The pastor and bestselling author talks about his new direction—and why it's not as cuckoo as you might think.

Maybe it’s his contagious smile, or the conviction evident in his voice. Maybe it’s his refreshing sense of humor, or the childlike glee that surfaces when he laughs. Whatever it is, people just like Francis Chan.

You don’t have to listen to Chan for very long to realize he is a gifted communicator and an engaging personality. On paper, Chan’s accomplishments as a well-known and well-respected pastor, best-selling author and sought-after public speaker may not seem unusual. After all, such success has almost become standard for megachurch pastors. But Chan has never been the typical megachurch pastor.

When he talks about the way some churches chase after the latest trends in an attempt to woo people to their services, you can almost hear traces of dismay (or disgust) in his voice. Chan prefers to point to the Bible—emphatically—and to call Christians to embrace a lifestyle that doesn’t make sense to the rest of the world (the central theme of his 2008 best-seller, Crazy Love). It’s this passion to see Christians living transformed lives that makes Chan’s messages distinct and personal.

People trust Francis Chan. They are drawn to his directness and sincerity. And when Chan speaks, people almost feel like they’re receiving a message straight from God.

And that’s a voice Christians do not want to lose.

Which is why Chan created such a stir last April when he announced he was leaving Cornerstone Church—the megachurch he planted in Simi Valley, Calif.

“Lisa [my wife] and I believe God is calling us out now, that He is sending us out to do something new, something that scares us, something that’s a step of faith,” Chan told his church when he resigned.

Though he was still uncertain about the details, Chan said he felt like God was leading his family to embark on a new ministry in a large city (such as Los Angeles, San Francisco or New York) where he will focus on ministering to the poor, and he wanted to be faithful and answer that call.

In the days that followed, Chan outlined his next steps, which included speaking throughout the U.S., walking the streets of large cities while praying for God’s direction, and eventually spending a few months serving in a developing country to “work with kids who have been rescued out of the slave trade … to go to a place where I’m a little bit more obscure, unknown—and just serve and care for some widows, orphans, and […] really seek the Lord, really be alone with Him.”

Chan’s decision (and uncertainty) elicited responses from church leaders and laypeople everywhere. Many asked why he would leave his church without knowing what he was going to do next. Many wondered if there was more to the story. But Chan says those who knew him best were not surprised—they could tell something was stirring inside him.

“You can talk to the people at Cornerstone and most of them—I’d say 80 to 90 percent—have been like: ‘Well, we knew it was coming. I thought it was going to be years ago.’”
Those at Cornerstone may have known him best, but they were not the only ones affected by his decision. Chan has become something of an ambassador for the big-c “Church”—writing books, speaking at conferences, preaching around the world. And so, in the wake of Chan’s announcement, the same question reverberated on blogs, forums and at conferences: “Why? Why would he walk away from his ministry?”
Others were asking more pointed questions.

Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs

In an online video conversation hosted by The Gospel Coalition that has attracted numerous viewers and given life to new debates about Chan’s decision, Mark Driscoll hijacks a discussion between Joshua Harris, Francis Chan and himself and uses the opportunity to put Chan on the spot, asking many of the tough questions others had been wondering.

One of the more memorable moments comes when Driscoll suggests that everyone thinks Chan is “cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs” for walking away from a thriving church.

Without realizing it, Driscoll’s claim may have affirmed Chan’s decision. After all, Crazy Love is Chan’s plea for people to embrace Christ so completely that it doesn’t make sense to others. Or, put another way, to trust God even when it prompts others to call you “cuckoo.”

“I don’t see it as this big step of faith. I mean, I do and I don’t,” Chan says. “I think people look at what I was doing and go: ‘Isn’t that the goal? Isn’t that what we’re striving after? So why would you not keep doing that?’ And I guess it’s because some of it was the goal, but the goal is really to just move as the Spirit moves, and to be as biblical and Christ-like as possible and try to be faithful to your calling.

“It will look a little different for everyone.”

Chan can laugh at Driscoll’s ”cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs” comment. He can certainly handle the word “crazy.” But the one thing that does bother him is when people start suggesting what he’s doing is weird.

“If we say, ‘That’s a weird person, that’s a weird theology,’ it automatically excuses us from doing anything similar. And to me, I don’t see it as strange,” Chan says. “Honestly, when I read the Scriptures, I really believe the Lord puts a heart in us when we become believers. And when the Spirit comes in us, there is this concern for the poor and for those who are in need, and this love for them to where you go: ‘Man, I would happily give you the shirt off my back. I would happily give up my future retirement to help you guys stay alive.’”

---