When a Pastor Gets Transferred: Calling or Crisis?
My last day of high school at Loyola College in Ibadan, Nigeria crept up on me, though I thought I was ready for it. The boarding house on campus was eerily quiet that Saturday morning, a stark contrast to the rush of farewells the day before. We’d finished our final classes, said goodbye to the commuter students, and watched as some of the boarders left with their parents. By Saturday, only a few of us remained, scattered across the school grounds like the last remnants of an era coming to an end.
I remember waking up earlier than usual, filled with a strange energy, a mix of excitement and something else, something harder to pin down. With nothing to do but wait for my parents to pick me up, I wandered the campus that had been my world for six long years (Junior and Senior High/JSS1-SS3). I walked familiar paths, the dorms, the classrooms, the sports fields, trying to take it all in, knowing that soon this place would no longer be mine.
Eventually, I ended up outside the cafeteria and sat on the steps, staring at the empty building, surrounded by silence. And then, without warning, it hit me. A flood of emotions I hadn’t expected washed over me, and I broke down. I cried, hard, like a dam had burst inside me. It wasn’t just a tear or two; it was a full-on sobbing session, the kind that catches you off guard and leaves you wondering where it came from.
What confused me most was that I didn’t understand why I was crying. I had been looking forward to this day for months. I’d finished my exams, packed my bags, and was ready to return to Lagos, with the added promise of heading to the U.S.A for college. I had survived six tough years of boarding school, without the luxuries that students today take for granted, and had made it through. Yet, in that moment, the excitement I had expected wasn’t there. Instead, I felt a deep sense of loss.
In those six years, that campus had become more than just a place I lived. It had shaped me. It was where I had my first fight, where I won my first basketball tournament, where I met some of my closest friends, where I experienced my first kiss (with a girl from the visiting girl’s school), where I stumbled into my first real leadership role. Somehow, even with all the challenges, it had become home. And now, I was leaving it behind, stepping into a future that was bright but also unknown.
That Saturday morning should have been filled with relief and anticipation for the next chapter of my life. Instead, it was marked by an unexpected sadness, a kind of grief for the familiar, for the memories, for everything that had been part of my life for so long.
Transitions are complex emotional experiences. They evoke a mix of conflicting emotions; joy for what has been accomplished and a deep sense of loss for what is left behind. Even when a transition is something we’ve prayed for, dreamed about, or long anticipated, there is always a price to pay. A familiar world to leave. A comfort zone to abandon.
Pastoral Relocation: Problems And Promises
As I look back on that season of my life, I see echoes of this experience in the journeys many Nigerian pastors face today. Pastoral transfers and relocations, whether mandated by denominational structures or born out of a personal calling to start something new, can stir up the same blend of hope and hesitation. The shift from the familiar to the unknown is not just a physical move; it is a soul-deep transition that tests faith, stretches patience, and, at times, feels like an emotional tug-of-war.
So, how do you make that transition from the familiar into the unfamiliar when you get that call? What do you do when the announcement comes, “Pastor, pack your bags, you’re moving”? How do you navigate the complicated realities of pastoral transfers in Nigeria, where cultural expectations, congregational attachments, and denominational politics add layers of complexity to an already challenging experience?
To explore this, let's first take an honest look at the realities of pastoral transfers, where the calling of God often meets the unpredictability of human emotions and institutional decisions.
4 REALITIES OF PASTORAL TRANSFERS IN NIGERIA
When a pastor receives the call to transfer to a new congregation or launch into a new ministry, the news is often met with a mix of faith and fear. While the church may see it as a move of divine orchestration, behind the scenes, pastors and their families often face an upheaval that touches every aspect of their lives. From emotional strain to congregational dynamics and denominational politics, pastoral transfers in Nigeria are anything but straightforward.
1. Emotional Strain on Pastors and Families
For many pastors, a transfer is not merely a change of workplace; it is a forced farewell to a community that has become family. Years of shared joys, sorrows, and spiritual milestones create deep bonds with congregants, making any transition feel like a form of relational amputation. It is not uncommon for pastors to experience grief, akin to mourning a loss, as they leave behind those they have shepherded.
The impact extends to their families. Spouses may need to leave behind careers or businesses they’ve nurtured, and children might struggle to adapt to new schools, environments, and friendship circles. Stability is disrupted, and what was once a home now feels like an unfinished chapter, closed before its time.
2. Congregational Reactions and Resistance
On the other side of the pulpit, congregational reactions can vary widely. Church members often develop strong attachments to their pastors, particularly in Nigerian settings where pastors serve as spiritual guides, community leaders, and even family counselors. When a beloved pastor is transferred, some congregants may feel abandoned, and this emotional wound can lead to resistance toward the incoming pastor.
This resistance can manifest in subtle ways, cold receptions, reluctance to support new initiatives, or overt challenges to the pastor's authority. The new pastor might find themselves walking into a minefield of unmet expectations and unhealed wounds, making integration into the new church environment an uphill task.
3. Denominational Policies and Politics
In many Nigerian denominations, pastoral transfers are often dictated by central leadership without prior consultation with the pastors involved. While this model aims to maintain organizational structure and distribute resources evenly, it can leave pastors feeling like pawns in a game they have little control over.
Some transfers are a result of denominational politics, where a pastor may be moved not because of divine direction but as a consequence of challenging the status quo. In extreme cases, transfers are used as a disciplinary measure or to remove pastors seen as threats to established power dynamics within the church hierarchy. The result is often a sense of powerlessness, where pastors and their families are left scrambling to adjust to a decision they had no part in making.
4. Challenges of Adapting to New Congregations
The diversity of Nigeria means that moving from one region to another can be as culturally and linguistically challenging as moving to a different country. A pastor transferring from Lagos to a rural village in Benue State, for example, may face language barriers, cultural differences, and even dietary adjustments. These challenges extend to their families, who must also adapt quickly to new norms and expectations.
Earning the trust of a new congregation takes time. Each church has its unique culture, unwritten rules, and historical baggage. The pastor must navigate these dynamics while balancing respect for the past with a vision for the future. This delicate balance requires wisdom, patience, and grace, qualities that are often tested in the crucible of transition.
From The Desert To Canaan: A Case Study Of Relocation
So, let’s turn to a familiar old Testament narrative for insights on how to handle these daunting transitions, drawing from the story of the Israelites and their journey to the Promised Land, a story that holds timeless lessons for every pastor on the move.
Just imagine the scene: The Israelites stood at the edge of the Promised Land, a place described as "a land flowing with milk and honey" (Exodus 3:8), yet their hearts were gripped by fear. After over 400 years of slavery and a year of wandering through the wilderness, they were finally at the threshold of God's promise. But when faced with the reality of transition, from the known hardships of the desert to the unknown challenges of Canaan, their faith wavered.
Numbers 13 paints a vivid picture of this moment. Moses, following God's instruction, sent 12 spies to survey the land of Canaan. For forty days, these men explored the territory, witnessed the land’s fruitfulness, and observed the formidable inhabitants. When they returned, their reports were split:
The Fearful Majority: Ten spies saw danger and defeat. They admitted the land was fruitful but emphasized the giants and fortified cities. Their conclusion was bleak: “We seemed like grasshoppers in our own eyes, and we looked the same to them” (Numbers 13:33), heir fear was contagious, and soon the entire Israelite community was in despair, wanting to return to Egypt (Numbers 14:3-4).
The Faithful Minority: Joshua and Caleb, on the other hand, saw the same giants and cities but filtered their perspective through faith. They declared, “We should go up and take possession of the land, for we can certainly do it” (Numbers 13:30). Their confidence wasn’t in their own strength but in the God who had led them through the Red Sea and sustained them in the wilderness.
This story is not just about ancient Israel; it is a mirror for us, especially for pastors facing the daunting task of a new ministry assignment. When the denominational headquarters calls with news of a transfer, or when God nudges your heart to plant a new church, it can feel like standing at Kadesh Barnea, peering into the unknown. For many Nigerian pastors, the "Promised Land" of a new assignment often looks less like a blessing and more like a battlefield.
In moments like these, the difference isn’t the challenges we face, but the promises we cling to. Here are four unshakable biblical promises to anchor your faith in transition.
PROMISE 1: GOD IS ALWAYS WITH YOU
When the twelve spies returned from exploring the Promised Land, they all saw the same reality: a beautiful land filled with abundance but also fortified cities and intimidating giants (Numbers 13:27-28). The physical evidence was the same for everyone, yet their interpretations varied wildly. Ten spies saw defeat, while Joshua and Caleb saw destiny. What made the difference?
The secret to Joshua and Caleb’s faith wasn't just their optimism; it was their closeness to God. If you trace Joshua’s journey through Scripture, you’ll notice a pattern of proximity. In Exodus 24, when Moses ascended Mount Sinai to receive the Ten Commandments, Joshua went with him. In Exodus 33, when Moses met with God in the Tent of Meeting, Joshua lingered at the entrance, absorbing every moment of God’s presence. Caleb, too, was marked by this closeness to God. In Numbers 14:24, God Himself says of Caleb, “...my servant Caleb has a different spirit and follows me wholeheartedly.”
For pastors facing the upheaval of relocation, this principle is gold: The strength to navigate transitions doesn't come from denying the challenges but from drawing near to the God who overcomes them. Like Joshua and Caleb, your confidence in the face of the unknown will stem from the intimacy you cultivate with God when no one else is watching.
The promise of God's presence is not just a nice thought, it's an anchor in turbulent times. Isaiah 43:2 reassures us: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”
For pastors, this means that whether your transfer feels like being thrown into a flood, wading through a river, or walking through a storm, God is there. He is present not just in the destination but in every step of the journey.
If God delivers you AWAY FROM the storm, rejoice in His mercy.
If God carries you THROUGH the storm, trust His strength.
If God leads you INTO the storm, remember that His presence is your protection.
The same God who stood with Joshua and Caleb in the face of giants stands with you today, offering not only His presence but also His peace.
PROMISE 2: EVEN WHEN LIFE CHANGES, GOD DOES NOT!
Transitions have a way of clouding our memories. When the ground beneath us feels unsteady, we often forget the solid rock we've been standing on all along. The Israelites, on the brink of entering the Promised Land, are a prime example of this "spiritual amnesia."
They stood on the border of their future yet trembled in fear because they had forgotten their past with God:
They forgot how God drowned the Egyptian army in the Red Sea when their doom seemed certain (Exodus 14:26-28).
They forgot the ten plagues God unleashed upon Egypt, demonstrating His unmatched power and His determination to set them free (Exodus 7-12).
They forgot the pillar of cloud and fire, God’s supernatural GPS, guiding them through the wilderness both day and night (Exodus 13:21-22).
They forgot the victory over the Amalekites, a battle they won despite having no military training, all because God fought for them (Exodus 17:8-13).
Pastor, it’s easy to judge the Israelites, but are we any different? When a transfer order arrives or when God nudges us toward a new assignment, do we also forget how He has faithfully led us before?
God's Unchanging Nature in Our Changing Seasons
Life is full of transitions, sometimes planned, often unexpected. But here’s the truth that holds steady: GOD DOES NOT CHANGE. His faithfulness is not seasonal, and His promises are not situational. James 1:17 reminds us, “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” God isn’t like a shadow that moves with the sun. He is constant. Unshakeable. Immovable.
Hebrews 13:8 echoes this truth: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” The same Jesus who called Peter out of the boat into stormy waters is the same Jesus who calls you to step into new ministry assignments. He has not changed, and neither have His plans for you.
There is no crisis, no sudden transfer, no unexpected transition that catches God off guard. He will never turn to the Holy Spirit and say, “Oh no! I didn’t see that coming. What do we do now?”
Instead, God is already at work in your next assignment. He has gone ahead of you, prepared the way, and equipped you for what lies ahead. The God who was faithful to you in the past will be faithful to you in this new chapter. And when life feels like it's being turned upside down, you can stand firm, knowing that the One who holds you has never changed.
PROMISE 3: GOD IS ALWAYS DOING SOMETHING, EVEN WHEN WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT IT IS!
What the Israelites failed to grasp as they stood on the edge of their promised land was that their transition into Canaan wasn't just a geographical move, it was the unfolding of a divine promise set in motion centuries earlier. Their journey was part of a story much bigger than their immediate circumstances.
In Genesis 12:2-3, God made a covenant with Abraham, saying, “I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.”
This promise wasn't just about giving a patch of land to the Israelites, it was about setting the stage for global redemption. Through Abraham’s lineage would come not only a nation but ultimately the Messiah, Jesus Christ, through whom all nations would be blessed. The transition into the Promised Land was a critical step in fulfilling God’s redemptive plan for humanity.
Pastor, when you receive that transfer letter or sense God calling you into a new season, remember this: Your move is not just about changing your address or learning a new congregation’s culture. It may very well be a divine chess move in God's grand narrative. You are not simply being relocated, you are being strategically positioned.
Author and pastor John Piper wisely said, “[At any given moment] God is always doing 10,000 things [with your name on it], and you may [only] be aware of three of them.” The truth is, God is always orchestrating, aligning, and preparing, even when you don’t see it. The discomfort of your current transition may be the soil from which God plans to produce fruit, not only in your life but also in the lives of those you will impact.
Your Move Is Not Wasted
There is no transition in your life that goes to waste. Whether it is a sudden pastoral transfer, a denominational reassignment, or the launch of a new ministry, God is always at work. The story of the Israelites reminds us that even when the future feels uncertain, God is not improvising, He is fulfilling His promise.
Your move is not just about you, it’s about the lives you will touch, the seeds of faith you will plant, and the harvest that God has already envisioned. You may not see all the pieces now, but trust that God is the Master Builder, and every step you take is part of His perfect blueprint.
And as we look forward to the final promise, let's hold on to this truth: If God is always doing something, even in the chaos of transition, then our role is to trust, follow, and remain steadfast, knowing He is not only guiding us but using us for His greater purpose.
PROMISE 4: GOD WILL GIVE YOU WISDOM IF YOU ASK
One of the most challenging aspects of any transition is navigating the unknown. Whether you're stepping into a new congregation, adjusting to a different culture, or leading in a setting with unspoken rules and expectations, the unfamiliar can feel daunting. In these moments, what you need most is wisdom, not just skill, but divine insight to see beyond what is visible and discern what is needed.
Navigating the Unknown with a Wise Guide
Not too long ago, my wife and I found ourselves in desperate need of a break. Ministry had been intense, and our souls felt threadbare. So, we decided to take a short sabbatical, trading the bustling demands of Jos for the serene promises of a beach resort in Lekki, Lagos. It was supposed to be a simple trip, a quick flight, an hour and a half drive, and the reward of ocean breezes and much-needed rest.
But, as is often the case with Lagos, our plans hit a snag. Our flight landed later than scheduled, which meant we were baptized into the infamous Lagos traffic at its peak, and well into the night. After what felt like an eternity of inching through the expressway, our driver finally turned off the main road. I thought the worst was behind us. I was wrong.
To reach our resort, we had to navigate through what felt like a maze of winding, dimly lit streets. The further we drove, the darker it got. Electricity was out in the area, and without streetlights, the roads seemed to lead into the abyss. Shadowy figures seemed to loom in every corner. I couldn’t help but notice the clusters of young men standing at intersections, their faces illuminated only by the occasional flash of headlights. My heart rate spiked, and I found my wife's hand clutching mine a bit tighter.
But then, amid my silent prayers and mounting anxiety, our driver’s calm voice broke through. "Don't worry, sir. We're on the right track," he said with a confidence I envied. "Those boys over there? They're just enjoying their Friday night. Nothing to worry about."
When we turned another corner and the landscape seemed to dissolve into nothingness, no houses, no lights, he reassured us again. "This is the best route, sir. It looks strange, but we're almost there."
And sure enough, after what felt like an eternity, we rounded a final bend, and there it was, our beautiful beach resort with its own security officers. The illuminated entrance seemed to shine even brighter against the backdrop of the darkened neighborhood. Relief washed over me, and I couldn’t help but think how differently the night might have turned out if I had gone with my original plan of renting a car and driving myself.
Our driver, our guide, had not only known the way but had also given us the peace of mind to endure the journey. He had seen what we could not see and understood what we could not comprehend. His voice, steady and sure, had led us safely through unfamiliar and unsettling territory.
God as Our Ultimate Wise Guide
In life, and especially in ministry, God offers to be that guide through the wisdom He provides. He knows the landscape of your new pastoral assignment. He understands the hearts of the people you will lead. He sees the obstacles and opportunities ahead, even when you cannot.
Just as our driver navigated us through dark and winding roads, God offers His steady voice to guide us through the uncertainties of transition. His wisdom is not only about giving directions but also about offering the reassurance and peace that we need to keep moving forward when the path feels unclear.
When the Israelites stood at the brink of the Promised Land, they had the ultimate source of wisdom available to them, God Himself. Yet, instead of seeking His guidance, they allowed fear to dictate their response. Instead of asking God for insight on how to conquer the land, they chose rebellion, plotting to stone Moses and return to Egypt (Numbers 14:1-4). Their refusal to ask for wisdom led to forty years of wandering, a prolonged transition that could have been a victorious entry.
God's Promise: Ask and Receive Wisdom
Wisdom is one of the few things in the New Testament that Scripture directly encourages us to ask for, with an ironclad promise of receiving it. James 1:5-6 offers this assurance: "If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind.”
This is not a maybe or a sometimes. It is a promise. God is not withholding His wisdom like a secret prize to be earned. Instead, He offers it generously, without scolding us for not knowing. He delights in our asking because it reflects our dependence on Him. Remember, God is not playing hide-and-seek with His will for your life. He wants you to know what’s next. He invites you to ask, seek, and knock (Matthew 7:7-8), assuring you that the door to wisdom will be opened. As you face this transition, let your prayers reflect a heart eager to learn and ready to act on the wisdom God provides.
So, pastor, as you step into the unknown, do so with confidence. Not because you know every twist and turn ahead, but because you know the One who does. And His promise is sure, if you ask for wisdom, He will give it.
BEST PRACTICES FOR YOUR NEW SEASON OF TRANSFER/RELOCATION
Speaking of wisdom, here are some practical strategies that pastors and their families can implement to not only survive but thrive through the process of relocation.
ONE: PURSUE EMOTIONAL AND SPIRITUAL CARE
Set Healthy Boundaries: One of the biggest risks during a pastoral transition is burnout. The pressure to quickly establish oneself in a new congregation, coupled with the emotional weight of leaving the previous church, can drain a pastor's mental and spiritual reserves. Setting healthy boundaries is crucial:
Pace Yourself: Don't try to implement all your visions for the new church in the first month. Give yourself and your congregation time to adjust.
Sabbath Rest: Make room for personal time with God that is not about sermon preparation but about soul restoration.
Say No When Necessary: During transitions, it’s easy to fall into the trap of trying to prove yourself by saying yes to every request. Know your limits and prioritize your well-being.
Seek Authentic Community: Isolation is a real danger in ministry, especially when moving to a new place. It is essential to surround yourself with people who can offer support and accountability:
Stay Connected with Trusted Friends: Maintain relationships with mentors and friends from your previous community who can provide perspective and encouragement.
Build New Connections: Find other pastors or church leaders in your new area who can offer camaraderie and advice.
Engage in Prayer Networks: Joining a prayer group or community can provide a spiritual safety net and reinforce your reliance on God’s strength.
TWO: MAINTAIN FAMILY WELL-BEING
Involve the Family in the Process: When pastors transition to new roles, their families are often involuntary travelers on the same journey. The change impacts spouses and children just as profoundly:
Discuss the Move Early: Don’t spring the news of a transfer on your family at the last minute. Allow them to process, ask questions, and express their feelings.
Visit the New Place Together: If possible, take your family to the new area before the actual move. Familiarizing them with the new environment can reduce anxiety.
Let Them Participate in Decisions: Involve your spouse in choosing a new home or school for the children. Give your family a sense of agency in the process.
Acknowledge Their Grief: While you may be excited about the new assignment, your family might be mourning the loss of their community, friends, and routines:
Hold Space for Their Emotions: Understand that your spouse may miss their job, and your children may miss their friends. Don’t dismiss their grief, validate it.
Create New Traditions: Help your family build new memories by exploring the new community together, finding new favorite spots, and establishing new routines.
THREE: BUILD CONGREGATIONAL RELATIONSHIP
Earn Trust Slowly: When entering a new congregation, it’s tempting to want to make an immediate impact. However, building trust takes time:
Listen Before You Lead: Spend the first few months listening to the stories, concerns, and hopes of your congregation. Understanding their history will help you serve them better.
Honor the Past: Even if the previous pastor’s style was different, resist the urge to criticize. Instead, build on the foundation that was laid before you.
Lead with Humility: Approach your new role as a learner as much as a leader. Ask questions, seek input, and show respect to established leaders within the church.
Avoid Criticizing the Previous Pastor: Transitioning pastors sometimes feel the need to differentiate themselves from their predecessors. However, this approach can backfire:
Speak Well of the Previous Pastor: Even if you have to address past mistakes, do so with grace. Your congregation will appreciate your honor and integrity.
Build Bridges, Not Walls: Instead of focusing on what needs to change immediately, identify what is already going well and affirm those strengths.
FOUR: EMBRACING THE MISSION
Stay Mission-Focused: In the whirlwind of settling into a new role, it’s easy to become consumed with logistics and lose sight of the bigger picture, God’s mission:
Keep the Vision Clear: Remind yourself and your congregation that the goal is not just to fill pews but to advance the Kingdom of God.
Develop a Mission Strategy: Create a plan for how you and your church can make a tangible impact in your new community. Whether it’s outreach programs, discipleship initiatives, or community service, keep the mission front and center.
Reframe the Challenge: Instead of viewing the transfer as an interruption, see it as an invitation to new opportunities:
Embrace a Pioneering Spirit: Like Joshua and Caleb, choose to see the land as filled with possibilities rather than pitfalls.
Celebrate Small Wins: Acknowledge and celebrate progress, even if it’s incremental. This will help you and your congregation stay encouraged
AWAKEN TO THE NEW THING GOD IS DOING
Transitions, especially in pastoral ministry, often feel like stepping off a cliff while hoping a bridge will appear beneath your feet. It’s uncomfortable, disorienting, and, if we’re honest, a bit terrifying. But here’s the truth: God doesn’t just send us into new seasons; He goes ahead of us to prepare the way. He is not simply pushing you out of your comfort zone; He is pulling you into your calling.
Isaiah 43:18-19 offers a divine wake-up call: “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” This is more than a promise; it’s a proclamation. God is not only aware of your transition; He is actively orchestrating it. What looks like a wilderness to you is fertile ground for God’s miracles.
So, instead of seeing this move as being sent away, reframe it as being sent forward. You are not being displaced; you are being deployed. This isn’t an exit, it’s an entrance into a fresh chapter of impact, growth, and divine encounters. Your new assignment is not a detour; it is the main road, and God is already on it. And hey, if nothing else, remember this: If God could lead the Israelites through a desert with a cloud by day and fire by night, He can certainly guide you through a few awkward meet-and-greets at your new church. You might not get a literal cloud or a pillar of fire (though that would be impressive), but you do have the Holy Spirit, the ultimate GPS, guiding you every step of the way.
So, take a deep breath, pack your bags, and step into this new season with faith. Who knows? You might just find that the promised land you feared is filled with more milk, honey, and joy than you ever imagined.
