Dear Pastor, You Don’t Want to Be Famous

"Lord, I have heard of your fame; I stand in awe of your deeds, Lord. Repeat them in our day, in our time make them known; in wrath remember mercy." —Habakkuk 3:2

In a world that places so much value on likes, followers, and viral moments, choosing a quiet life might seem countercultural. But for a Pastor, the decision should be simple: you don’t want to be famous. And you don’t need to be famous to be effective. Your calling is not about growing your platform; it’s about furthering the Great Commission. 

Now you should not lack ambition or fear success—but pastors should value something deeper. I’ve learned through my representation of many pastors across the country that fame, book deals, and large congregations are not the golden tickets they appear to be.

For one thing, fame doesn’t equal fulfillment. We often assume in ministry that being known by many will somehow make us feel more significant. But church history tells a different story. Some of the most famous ministers throughout our history of the modern church struggled with depression, isolation, substance or alcohol abuse, and burnout. History always repeats itself. Fame in our world today might temporarily amplify your voice, but it doesn't guarantee inner peace. 

I'd rather you as a pastor build a life that's quietly meaningful than loudly empty. Because if you seek after the platform at all costs, then you will eventually be in a private conversation with an attorney like me and we will have quite a mess to clean up. 

Secondly, privacy is priceless. You will always be known by God, but being largely unknown to man is a blessing. Fame will rob you of the simple dignity of being known by only a few. There’s a unique comfort in being able to go to the grocery store without being photographed. Your personal life should be personal, and that is hard enough to do when you’re a pastor of any size church. (Ask any Pastor’s Kid … and while you are at it, start listening to a Podcast we support from our friend Yancy called Stained Glass Kids available here) It becomes so much harder when you are widely known. Pastors filling the pulpits of our churches today need to know the cost of fame. 

Also, relationships can get complicated quickly. True connection requires trust, but fame makes it hard to know who’s genuine. Are they here for you, or your image? Are they interested in friendship, or access? It is so much richer to grow relationships in quiet soil—free from the distortion of public attention. Fame distorts the integrity of a healthy relationship-building process, where true friendship with real trust and loyalty as its foundation takes years to build. 

By the way, this is not an indictment of those who are famous, or whose God-given mission leads them to live visible lives or sit at influential tables. Some are called to that space and carry that burden with humility and grace. And if fame is your cross to bear, then take it up and follow Him. But even for those who do, the goal should be to be deeply known by a few and to live a rich life doing the “good works that God has prepared for us to do.” Eph. 2:10. Whether those works are seen by millions or by God alone, it is His glory we should seek.

Another consideration you should mull over is that authenticity is easier maintain when there is no audience. The larger your platform, the harder it becomes to be truly yourself. When you chase after fame, you begin to curate your life to meet expectations. I have many stories I could share with you where the goal of a pastor or organization became to project a certain image rather than serve or further the mission. 

As a pastor, even a Senior Pastor, you should never lose the ability to be wrong, to grow in private, to be held accountable, to employ those who will confidently but respectfully tell you no, to serve with those who feel free to spar with you and challenge your thinking, and to have the freedom to change your mind without it becoming a headline. Pastors need to keep the freedom to be human while maintaining their ministries.

In the end, if you would rather give in to the fleshy temptation and your ego and seek after the fame, good luck. I tell my clients that when you “play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.” My wife likes how the book of Hosea puts it: if you sow the wind, you will reap the whirlwind. Hos. 8:7. Look at history and see how many pastors and ministry leaders – and their families – have had to suffer the whirlwinds of their own making.

Because your legacy as a pastor will not be measured in how many likes you have, or how many New York Times Best Selling books you “authored” (with the help of a ghost writer that was privately retained by your ministry). Your legacy will also not be measured by how many buildings they put your name on or whether you have amassed generational wealth through your “ministry.” 

What I hope you leave behind isn’t a name in lights, but a legacy of purpose, character, and quiet influence. Some of the most powerful people in church history were never famous—but they were called; and they were our teachers, coaches, mentors, parents, or friends who impacted our lives behind the scenes. That’s the kind of greatness I admire.

If this is something you have struggled with, you should check out a book written by a good friend of mine. Thann Bennett and his family are long-time members of the National Community Church family in Washington, D.C. In his professional capacity, Thann and I were colleagues for many years, and he wrote a book entitled: “My Fame, His Fame.” This book is a call for believers to heed the example of the prophet Habakkuk by stepping to their watch on the ramparts and calling for a revelation of God’s mighty acts to be repeated in our time. It is an inspiring reminder that our lives are to be lived for one aim: to increase the fame of the Famous One. Thann presents a radically different—and far better—approach to achieving success in life and you will walk away inspired and equipped to live for the purpose of His fame. You can order it here.