We don’t often speak about pastoral succession in our churches — not in the way we need to.
We might allude to it in elder meetings or crack a nervous joke about “preaching until we drop,” but rarely do we treat it as the serious, spiritual responsibility that it is. And yet, leadership transitions are not an if but a when. We will all, eventually, step aside.
Recently, I read a doctoral thesis that offered a gentle but urgent nudge. It wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was thoughtful and quietly convicting — the kind of writing that does what God’s Word so often does: lays us bare and builds us up.
Among its many insights, one rose to the surface like a truth I already knew but hadn’t dared say out loud: to lead well is to prepare others to lead after you.
Leadership Isn’t a Lifetime Appointment
There’s a sacredness to pastoral leadership — and with that comes a temptation to treat the role as something permanent. But biblically speaking, leadership is a season, not a possession.
The research I reviewed pointed to a compelling statistic: 84% of churches in America lack a written succession plan for their senior pastor (Vanderbloemen & Bird, Next: Pastoral Succession That Works). Let that sit with you for a moment.
Eighty-four percent.
That means most churches are unprepared for the inevitable — be it retirement, illness, moral failure, or the quiet nudge of the Holy Spirit calling a pastor to a new season. The absence of a plan is rarely out of apathy. More often, it’s out of discomfort. But faithfulness invites us into discomfort when it’s required for the flourishing of God’s people.
The “Moses Effect” — And the Cost of Delay
The thesis described a leadership pattern called the “Moses Effect.” It refers to faithful pastors who lead well for decades but remain in their role long past the season of fruitfulness — often without training a successor.
The image is compelling: Moses led the people out of Egypt, but Joshua led them into the Promised Land. God’s purposes required both. And for the transition to work, the baton had to be passed intentionally.
We are not Moses forever. We are stewards for a time. The question is: will we raise up Joshua while we still can?
Succession Planning Is Spiritual Formation
Succession is not just a leadership issue — it is a discipleship issue. It is the natural extension of what Jesus modeled.
Jesus didn’t just preach the kingdom. He prepared people to preach after Him.
He empowered His disciples. He equipped them. And — maybe most counterintuitively — He left. He did not cling to His earthly ministry. He completed it, and in doing so, gave it away.
To prepare a successor is to say with our lives what we preach with our lips: This ministry was never mine to begin with. It belongs to God, and He will raise up the next shepherd, just as He raised up me.
Why We Delay (and Why We Can’t)
So why don’t churches plan?
The research uncovered familiar obstacles: fear of financial insecurity, emotional attachment to the role, fear of irrelevance, and, perhaps most deeply, the absence of a vision for what comes next.
As a consultant, I’ve seen this up close. Churches hope the conversation will wait until a better time — after Easter, after the budget is settled, after this next hire. But succession planning is never urgent until it’s too urgent.
The longer we wait, the more we risk:
- Leadership confusion
- Loss of trust
- Congregational division
- Ministry decline
Planning doesn’t weaken your leadership. It strengthens your legacy.
A Better Way Forward
You don’t need a retirement date on the calendar to begin thinking about succession.
Here’s what you do need:
- The humility to admit your season has limits.
- The courage to ask who God might be raising up.
- The wisdom to involve others in the process.
- The love to leave well — not for your sake, but for theirs.
Because a leader who loves their people prepares them not just for this season, but for the next.
One Takeaway for All of Us
Successions are not about endings, but about endurance.
It is the quiet, courageous work of ensuring the Church continues — not on your shoulders, but on the shoulders of those you’ve discipled, mentored, prayed for, and released.
We are not called to be the cornerstone. We are called to build faithfully upon it.
So whether you’re a lead pastor, a board member, or someone serving behind the scenes, consider this an invitation: to begin the conversation, to trust the Spirit’s timing, and to believe that what God started through you, He will continue — through someone else.
Because the true measure of leadership is not what we keep. It’s what we leave.