The Succession Most Churches Get Wrong
There’s a certain kind of echo you only notice when the room is empty.
We were standing in the sanctuary at Dunn’s Creek, talking about sound absorption like three guys who suddenly became acoustics experts because… well, that’s what pastors do. If it matters on Sunday, we will absolutely have a passionate opinion about it by Tuesday.
Dave Malmberg (retired January 2025) was smiling the whole time, the way a man smiles when he’s remembering a life that moved faster than his memory can keep up with. David McRee was there too, the pastor who didn’t just “follow” Dave. He was formed in the shadow of a long, faithful tenure and then handed the keys without the church having to white-knuckle a search committee for 18 months.
And while we joked about bodies in pews absorbing sound, we were really talking about what absorbs anxiety in a church.
Trust does.
And trust doesn’t come from a resume. It comes from years of steady, faithful, boring-in-the-best-way leadership… and then a succession plan that doesn’t panic.
This conversation turned into Kingdom Over Turf - 001: Dave and David of Dunn’s Creek. But what you’ll read below is the story behind the story, and the practical stuff long-tenured pastors and churches can actually use.
Dave’s long obedience in the same direction
Dave’s story starts in places most people don’t expect. Born at a U.S. Army hospital in Okinawa. Earliest memories in North Carolina. Then Korea enters the family storyline, and his mother, a Japanese American, speaks broken English, so the family lands near relatives in Fort Myers.
Later, Dave comes to Jacksonville for Bible college at Luther Rice. He serves where he can, does interim work, and eventually ends up at Dunn’s Creek as an interim pastor.
And then the church does the thing churches sometimes do when God is smiling on them: They call the interim.
Dave didn’t swagger into the room like he had the master plan. He was honest about being young. He didn’t have a file cabinet full of recycled sermons. He was preaching Sunday school, Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night… with no full-time staff.
So he did what a wise young pastor does when he knows he’s young: He slowed down.
He told me he intentionally didn’t want to change much for a couple years. Not because change is bad, but because trust is fragile, and people were already carrying hurt from rough seasons before he arrived. He wanted to love them, preach the Word, and let credibility grow the old-fashioned way.
That’s not “leadership strategy.” That’s shepherding.
And you can’t skip it.
The deacon piece nobody wants to talk about
Somewhere in our conversation, we got into what most pastors only discuss in private with close friends: Deacons.
Not the office. The people.
Dave and David both described something that’s rare enough to feel like cheating: deacons who are friends with each other, not political operatives sharing the same title. Dave said the church had been blessed with good deacons, but he also said he guarded the gate over time. Not by building a room full of “yes men.” David was clear about that.
They had strong men in the room. Men willing to say, “Let’s do something or quit talking about it.” But the brotherhood mattered. The unity mattered. The mission stayed the mission.
And then David said something I wish every church would print and tape to every leadership binder: They could be brutally honest in the room… but once they prayed and left the room, it was “100% agreement outside these four walls.”
No Sunday school whisper campaigns.
No “let me tell you what really happened” hallway briefings.
No backdoor triangle conversations that turn unity into confetti.
That culture didn’t appear by accident. It was protected. Reinforced. Expected.
If you want to finish well, you don’t just disciple the congregation. You disciple the leadership culture.
The Quiet Leadership Superpower
Then David dropped the phrase Dave taught him early on: “Preclude objections.”
You could almost see the light bulb on it. Not as a gimmick, but as a pastoral habit.
It means you don’t roll out ideas like a surprise birthday party and then act shocked when people don’t clap.
You slow down long enough to ask:
What will the sharpest critic worry about?
Who will this change affect first?
What sacred cow might we be bumping into?
What are the predictable “yeah but…” questions?
Then you answer them before the church has to.
David described it like an FAQ page. When they present something significant, they often address the biggest objections right up front. And he said something that matters: “It tells people you care about them.” It signals, “We thought about you. We didn’t just have an idea at lunch and decide to remodel the whole church by Thursday.”
That’s maturity. And a lot of young leaders (and I love young leaders) don’t start there.
They start with gasoline and a match. Dave gave David a different gift: patience with a purpose.
Why this succession worked, and why most don’t.
Here’s what most churches do when a long-tenured pastor retires:
The pastor announces retirement
The church panics, forms a committee
The committee searches, debates, argues, interviews
A candidate arrives
The new pastor is instantly compared to the old pastor
The church swings the pendulum in the opposite direction
Everyone calls it “a tough season” while quietly bleeding people
Dunn’s Creek did something different: Dave didn’t just step away. He stewarded the transition.
He had a desire: bring in someone who could serve in youth and also grow into preaching and shepherding responsibilities over time. Not a promise. Not a coronation. A possible pathway.
And then God did what He does. He worked upstream.
Dave reached out to Andy Jackson at North Jacksonville Baptist Church, asking if he knew anyone. Years earlier, Andy had mentioned a guy in seminary. This time, timing shifted. Another opportunity fell through for David McRee. Suddenly he was available.
Providence doesn’t always feel flashy. Sometimes it just looks like a phone call at the right time.
They met at Bono’s BBQ, and the chemistry was immediate. Same sense of humor. Same books. Same preaching diet. Same heart direction.
David said something that made me laugh because it was too honest: Coming out of seminary, he had that classic “I’ve read the books, I have the answers, if these crusty church people would just listen…” energy. Then life humbled him hard. He called it “crushed,” not just humbled. That experience softened him enough to be teachable, and the Dunn’s Creek environment was safe enough for him to grow without being destroyed by every mistake.
That’s rare. And it matters.
The seven-year handoff and Why the timing mattered more than the title
They ended up with about a seven-year runway from hire to handoff.
That number isn’t magic, but it sure is meaningful.
In many churches, somewhere around years five to seven, the congregation stops saying “the pastor” and starts saying “my pastor.” Trust deepens. Shared history stacks up. And the relationship becomes more than positional.
What struck me most is that Dunn’s Creek didn’t just announce a successor and throw him into the fire.
It was gradual.
Dave shared “real ministry” with David from the start. Hospital visits. Funerals. Leadership meetings. Deacon meetings. Church council conversations. Not just “go drink Mountain Dew with teenagers and keep them occupied.”
Then COVID turned into an unexpected accelerator. With an empty room and a camera, Dave suggested they alternate preaching weekly.
A lot of pastors would never do that. Dave did. And the church didn’t revolt. They loved it. That season “precluded” a major objection: Can he preach weekly? Then, late 2022 / early 2023 (they remembered it as around there), Dave sat down with the deacons and said the quiet part out loud: “David is gifted. Somebody will scoop him up. We need to make this official.”
That wasn’t insecurity. That was stewardship. And when it finally came before the church, David said it felt like everyone went, “Duh.”
Because healthy churches often recognize what God is doing before it becomes formal.
The pastor-elect awkward zone: Engaged but not married
We talked about that strange in-between season. Pastor-elect, but not “the guy” yet.
David compared it to engagement. You know the future is coming. You’re not living it yet. Everything changes, but not everything has changed. What helped is that Dave kept handing over responsibility bit by bit, so when the baton officially passed, David wasn’t starting from zero.
Then David said something that pastors and churches should steal immediately: They intentionally implemented a couple changes before Dave left, using Dave’s credibility to “cash in” some of his relational capital, so David didn’t have to spend his first year burning trust on needed adjustments.
That is wise. That is pastoral. That is how you finish well and set the next guy up to thrive.
What long-tenured pastors can learn from Dave
If you’ve been at your church a long time, this is for you.
Not as pressure. As possibility.
1) Don’t wait until you’re tired to start the conversation - Succession planning done late feels like emergency surgery. Done early, it feels like discipleship.
2) Start handing off before you step off - Let your successor carry real weight while you’re still there. If they only inherit the title, they’ll drown under the responsibilities.
3) Choose “fit” over flash - Dave didn’t chase a trendy profile. He looked for a kindred spirit, a shared heart, and a compatible direction.
4) Guard the leadership culture - If your deacon room feels like a courtroom, your transition will feel like a trial.
5) Give your church the gift of a calm future - One of the most beautiful things David said was that once the transition plan was settled, the church got to enjoy Dave’s “victory lap” without anxiety.
That’s a finishing-well gift.
What churches can learn from Dunn’s Creek
If you’re a church with a long-tenured pastor, you’re sitting on a treasure you don’t fully realize. And treasures require stewardship.
1) Don’t punish faithfulness with panic - A long-tenured pastor is not a problem to solve. He’s a gift to honor.
2) Don’t confuse “different” with “better” - The pendulum swing breaks churches. Continuity in the mission protects the flock.
3) Let trust do what fear never can - Fear produces reaction. Trust produces wisdom.
4) Celebrate the outgoing pastor without turning him into a ghost - A good farewell isn’t worship. It’s gratitude. It’s closure. It’s blessing. And then… it’s forward.
The line I can’t shake
Near the end, Dave said something quietly powerful.
He wants the church to know they love them, and sometimes decisions aren’t popular, but love stays the motive. That’s finishing well.
And it’s also a reminder that walking by faith shouldn’t feel comfortable. If it’s always comfortable, something’s off.
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