I spent six and a half years as an executive pastor before I became a lead pastor. I sat in every meeting that mattered, I knew the budget better than anyone, I led the staff day-to-day. I helped shape the vision, build the systems, and solve the problems. The second chair really is one of the best leadership training grounds in the church.

But here’s what nobody told me – and what I want to tell you:

A front-row seat to a role is not the same thing as sitting in it.

I’m not trying to be dramatic. The XP seat prepared me for a lot. But there were five things it simply couldn’t prepare me for, and I’ve talked with enough pastors who’ve made the same transition to know I’m not alone.

If you’re an executive pastor who might sit in the first chair someday (or a senior pastor trying to develop the leaders around you) this is for you.

First, Let’s Be Honest About What the Second Chair Does Prepare You For

Before I tell you what surprised me, I want to be fair to the role. My years as an XP gave me:

• Systems thinking – I understood how the whole organization actually worked, not just one ministry silo
• Staff leadership – Hiring, developing, and sometimes releasing people
• Financial fluency – Budgets, forecasting, and the discipline of stewarding resources
• Execution muscle – Turning vision into calendars, plans, and reality
• Organizational health – Seeing dysfunction early and addressing it before it spreads

If you’re an XP, don’t discount any of that. Those skills didn’t disappear when I changed seats. They’re a huge part of why the transition has worked at all. But there were a few things I didn’t expect or prepare for.

1. Nobody Prepared Me for the Weight of the Final Call

As an XP, I made hard decisions all the time. But here’s the difference I didn’t see coming: almost every one of those decisions had a relief valve. If something was truly heavy or consequential I could carry it up. There was always one more chair.

Now I’m the last chair. The decision stops with me. The staff looks to me. The elders are looking at me. And while I absolutely have wise voices around me, there is no one to hand the weight of senior leadership to at the end of the day.

You can watch someone carry that weight for years and still be surprised by how heavy it is when it’s handed to you.

2. I Went from Executing the Vision to Being the Vision-CRAFTER AND CARRIER

As an XP, my job was to take the vision and make it real. I think I was really good at asking and answering, “How do we get this done?”

What I wasn’t prepared for was the constant, relentless question that now follows me everywhere: “Where are we going?”

Vision isn’t a document the senior leader approves. It’s a burden the senior leader carries. People don’t just want to hear the vision from you – they want to see it in you. In your energy, in your preaching, in your hallway conversations. Every room you walk into, you’re either building faith for the future or draining it.

That’s not a task you complete, but rather, a weight you wear daily.

3. The Relational Ground Shifted Under My Feet

Let me tell you, this one stung a bit. As an XP, I was the staff’s leader, but I was also their peer in a real sense. We were all “under” someone together. There was a camaraderie in that.

Between the second chair and the first chair, the relationships changed. People filter what they tell you. They watch your reactions more closely. Casual comments in the hallway are not casual anymore. And the honest, unguarded feedback you used to get freely doesn’t come to you anymore – you have to dig for it.

People weren’t being fake, and I don’t think it’s that I wasn’t trusted – it’s just the gravity of the role.

4. I Underestimated the Spiritual and Public Weight of the Role

As an XP, I could have a bad Sunday and almost nobody noticed.

Not anymore. The senior role is a public role and a pastoral role at the same time – and you’re always on. The congregation reads your countenance. Your family lives in the glass house with you. Spiritually, you become a bigger target. Every senior pastor I know has experienced it.

The second chair let me serve the church in such a way that I could an arm’s length from that weight. The first chair doesn’t allow it.

5. I Was Tempted to Keep Doing My Old Job

Here’s the sneaky one. The operational side of the church was my comfort zone. I was good at it and it felt productive. It was fulfilling.

So in my early days as lead pastor, guess where I kept drifting? Right back to the spreadsheets, the systems, and the staffing charts – the very things I needed to hand off.

It’s a common temptation of leaders to default to their old strengths under pressure. But if the senior leader keeps doing the executive pastor’s job, two things happen: the church loses its senior leader, and the XP never gets to actually be the XP.

So What Do You Do About It?

Whether you’re a second-chair leader preparing for what might come next, or you’re new to the first chair and feeling everything I just described, here’s where I’d tell you to invest:

1. Grow Deeper Spiritual Roots

Whatever your rhythms of soul care were in the second chair, they are not enough for the first. The weight is heavier, the target is bigger, and the role never fully turns off. You need deeper roots, stronger rhythms, and real Sabbath. Build them before you need them, because the weight of the first chair will find every shallow place in your soul.

2. Hone Your Ability to Communicate Vision

Vision is the language of the first chair, and like any language, fluency takes practice. Work on it now. Learn to say where you’re going in a sentence, in a story, in a sermon, and in a hallway conversation. It may not be your vision to craft or even initially cast, but you get to recast it in some way every day, so practice. You can execute someone else’s plan without this skill. You cannot carry a church’s vision without it.

3. Decide What Only You Can Do, and Hand Off the Rest

Get it on paper. What are the things that only the person in your seat can do? Vision, culture, key voices, critical relationships – whatever your list is, name it. Then ruthlessly hand off everything else, especially the things you’re tempted to keep because they’re comfortable. If you want to read up a bit more on this, check out the post 4 Roles a Senior Pastor Can’t Delegate from The Unstuck Group.

4. Be Honest About Your Strengths, Weaknesses, Geniuses, and Frustrations

Self-awareness isn’t optional in the first chair – it’s survival. Know where you’re genuinely gifted, where you’re merely competent, what work gives you life, and what work drains you dry. Then be honest about it out loud, with your board and your team. Leaders who pretend to be good at everything end up mediocre at the things that matter most.

5. Surround Yourself with Leaders Who Are Strong Where You’re Weak

This is where the last point pays off. Once you know your gaps, build a team that fills them and then actually empower those leaders. Position them for real leadership, give them real authority, and then truly release it to them. Delegation isn’t delegation if you keep pulling it back. The best senior leaders aren’t the most complete leaders; they’re the ones most committed to completing the team around them.

One More Thing: Backfill Your Old Seat Well

If you’ve made the move from second chair to first, the single best gift you can give yourself – and your church – is a strong executive pastor behind you. I sat in that chair. Now I get to champion the person who sits in it for me.

You know better than anyone what that seat requires. So take what you learned and invest it. Hire well, even if it takes longer than you want. Then pour into that relationship like the health of your church, your family, and even yourself depends on it, because in many ways it does. Both trust and tension built in the SP/XP relationship multiplies through the whole staff. Don’t shortcut this one.

Final Thought

If you’re a second-chair leader, hear me: your seat matters, and it’s preparing you more than you know. But don’t confuse proximity with readiness. Do everything you can today to prepare yourself for the weight of what tomorrow could hold.

And if you’re a senior pastor, remember what it felt like on the other side of the desk, and develop your second-chair leaders with the whole picture in mind – not just the skills, but the weight.

Whatever chair you’re sitting in today, it’s not just a seat – it’s a training ground. Steward it well, carry the weight God has given you now, and trust Him to prepare you for whatever seat He calls you to next.