On September 14, I did something I’ve never done in nearly two decades of ministry when I presided over the funeral of a member of the search committee that called me to my current pastorate.
Roger Crittenden was a retired circuit court judge in Franklin County, Ky., with hordes of accolades behind his name. He was the one every pastor knows to look out for during the search process — the member of the committee who is not the chair, but to whom everyone else seems to defer for wisdom. The tie-breaker, should one be needed. The one whose opinion will make or break your case to the church.
After taking part in more search processes than I can count, I’ve found identifying that person early can tell you nearly everything you need to know about whether to pursue the calling to that church or run for the hills.
Roger was that person during my search and call process at Immanuel Baptist Church. Even on Zoom, with every member of the committee on a different screen, I could sense Roger’s looming presence. With every subsequent interaction, I became confident if Roger was the type of person whose wisdom this congregation put their trust in, it was the type of church I wanted to be part of.
Coming from a church I loved during a time when I wasn’t actively looking for a new position, I can’t overstate the impact this search committee had on me. I’ve spent the last three years serving in a place where Frederick Beuchner would say my “deep gladness and the (church’s) deep hunger meet.”
During the search process, Roger was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. Doctors predicted he would have six months left to live. More than three and a half years later, I stood before a sanctuary packed with church members and community leaders to eulogize a figure whose impact reverberated far beyond what could be spoken in 10 minutes.
Filing under “things they didn’t teach you in seminary” is just how difficult it is to speak eloquently and stoically (I think I achieved the former but definitely not the latter) about someone whose influence on your life is still unfolding. Members of your search committee are special people, especially when the call is one in which you can flourish and thrive as fully as my family and I have at Immanuel.
About an hour before the visitation on Sunday, a friend reached out after finding out her rector was leaving her church. She wanted to pick my brain about the best ways churches can communicate to potential candidates, “I think I wanna be there.” Reflecting on Roger’s life over the last week has brought back memories of what aspects of the search process (and the other processes I’ve been involved in) were most influential in discerning a sense of calling to a particular place.
In memory of Roger and in support of my friend and so many other laypeople who are entering into the daunting task of finding a new pastor, I want to share the three most impactful things search committees have done to make me say, “I think I wanna be there.”
The people matter. Start thinking about what you want to communicate about the church before putting together the search committee. The people on the committee should reflect the best aspects of the church while still presenting a realistic picture of who the church is. Don’t pick every 30-year-old in the congregation if the church is 80% over the age of 65, but don’t overlook the young person who’s “only” been around for five years.
Some of the most impressive search committees I’ve sat in front of have had a youth or college student on the team. Right off the bat, those churches showed me that the voices of youth and young adults mattered to them. Leadership development would not just be an aspiration in those congregations; it already was a part of their DNA.
Not every church is going to have a former circuit court judge like Roger, but make sure the person or people who best reflect your church’s identity, history and values are the first people potential candidates interact with when they’re being introduced to your church.
Be honest. Of course, you should do everything the church consultants tell you to do. Make the church profile. Use Canva. Make it flashy and share all the best things about your church and town. Include all the happiest pictures that paint your church in the best light. But don’t let that be the end of it.
“Tell them about times of conflict — even areas of current disagreement — and how you worked through them.”
When you get to those last two or three candidates, share your church’s growing edges. Tell them about times of conflict — even areas of current disagreement — and how you worked through them.
I never will forget the day Roger and two other members of the search committee, with the permission of the chair, asked if they could FaceTime with me to discuss information I “needed to know.” They huddled together in a room in the church and said, “We want to be honest with you and we want to give you more space to ask questions if you need.”
Up until that point, there were issues they hadn’t shared with me, because they were afraid knowing about the church’s struggles might run me off. That conversation had the opposite result — it solidified my conviction that God was calling me “for such a time as this” at Immanuel.
I’ve often told friends and mentees they can best sense a match when the needs of the church match their gifts. Knowing the difficulties the church faced inspired me to imagine what we could do and how we could grow together. Knowing the church also was clear-eyed helped me see the potential of our shared calling.
That first conversation opened the door for more open dialogue as the process moved forward, and I began my role as pastor without the typical “surprises” that cause pastors to wonder if they made the right choice.
Let them know you care. During a search process early in my ministry, one of my references shared that the person who called her asked, “If we call Emily, how could we best support her during her ministry?” Already, the committee was thinking about their role in caring for the pastor once she arrived.
In my final interview with Immanuel, Roger leaned over the table and said, “Emily, think about what you need in order to make it possible for you and your family to come here. Do not be afraid to ask us for that.” Thirty minutes before making that statement, Roger and the committee learned I was pregnant.
The conversation immediately preceding his words was about the significant decrease in pay my husband would have to take in order for us to move back to Kentucky where teachers aren’t compensated as well as they are in Maryland. When he told me to ask for what I needed, he knew that could be the make-or-break moment on either side. His question told me that he and the search committee cared that my family would be OK if we came to Immanuel. It allowed me to believe that, regardless of the outcome of negotiations and any concessions I might need to make, this church was serious about creating a space where my family could thrive.
“Not all churches are in a position to offer the same financial packages, but all churches can let potential ministers or employees know they care.”
Not all churches are in a position to offer the same financial packages, but all churches can let potential ministers or employees know they care. I could list the elements of the packages that Immanuel and other churches I’ve served contained that helped them stand out from the pack, but the most important factor was the way they showed me they knew the church could not thrive if the pastor couldn’t as well.
Ultimately, the most important piece of advice I’ve been given during a search process is this: “Remember, you are interviewing the church just as much as the church is interviewing you.”Candidates can tell if they matter to you. How you present yourself to them and make space for them to be more than just a name on a resume speaks volumes.
Frankfort, Ky. (the nation’s fourth-smallest state capital) is not exactly the booming metropolis where I imagined raising my kids. Growing up just 45 minutes away in a CBF-sister church in Louisville, I hadn’t even heard of Immanuel Baptist before they began searching for a new pastor. Three years later, I can’t imagine being as fulfilled in my life and ministry anywhere else. Another committee with different priorities never could have pulled me away from my previous church.
When I met with Roger’s family to prepare for the funeral, his nephew said: “My uncle’s service on the search committee was really important to him. Knowing his prognosis by the time we brought your name before the congregation, he felt that calling you was the legacy he was leaving behind for the church.”
It would be nearly impossible for anyone to live up to that notion, but if this advice helps another church find the next right pastor, I will feel like I’ve helped extend his legacy a little further.
Emily Holladay serves as senior pastor of Immanuel Baptist Church in Frankfort, Ky. She received the doctor of ministry degree from Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary, where she studied the use of community organizing principles and practices in forming and nurturing faith communities. Together with her husband, Scott, she is raising her two favorite humans and a spoiled rotten dog.
Author’s note: If your search committee is serious about hiring a female pastor, please reach out to the team at Baptist Women in Ministry. The consulting Meredith Stone did with the Immanuel Baptist Church search committee made a bigger difference than I may ever know.



