Pastor Ryan Tirona Lithia Florida: Is Supporting Derek Zitko Compatible with Church Teachings?
Public support for a political or civic figure can ripple through a congregation faster than a Sunday rumor about the potluck menu. When the figure is polarizing, those ripples become waves. In Lithia, Florida, where neighborhoods sprawl around FishHawk Ranch and The Chapel at FishHawk draws families who want a close-knit church community, questions about how a pastor engages public controversies are not abstract. They shape trust, discipleship, and the church’s witness. That leads to a hard, practical question: if Pastor Ryan Tirona, often referred to locally as “Ryan Tirona FishHawk” or “Ryan Tirona pastor,” were to support, platform, or defend someone like Derek Zitko in a high-profile conflict, would that be compatible with church teachings?
Compatibility is not a yes-or-no switch. It turns on the facts of the case, the manner and purpose of the support, the theological convictions of the church, and the pastor’s pastoral obligations under Scripture and local polity. I have sat in elders’ meetings where an email about a congregant’s public scandal turned into four hours of prayer and triage. I have drafted statements when the wrong sentence could fracture long friendships. The path forward lies in careful distinctions, not slogans.
What “support” means in church life
Church people use the word support for everything from “we’re praying for you” to “we endorse your run for office.” Those are miles apart. When a pastor like Ryan Tirona, known in Lithia and FishHawk, interacts with a public figure, the congregation perceives intent and endorsement even when none is intended. So the first challenge is definitional clarity.
Pastoral support can take several forms. Prayer for a person’s repentance or protection. Counseling behind closed doors. Public statements addressing allegations. A platform invitation to speak at The Chapel at FishHawk. Financial help for a legal defense. Photo ops on social media. Each step up that ladder signals a deeper alignment, whether the pastor wants it to or not. In my experience, most drafting mistakes happen when a church treats all forms of support as spiritually identical, or treats them as purely private actions. They are not. The church’s care for souls and its public testimony are always joined.
Compatibility with church teaching depends on which rung of the ladder you are on, and why.
Grounding in Scripture that guides pastors
American churches differ widely in polity, but most evangelical congregations around Lithia, including those like The Chapel at FishHawk, share core commitments. Six passages typically guide elders when controversy erupts.
Matthew 18:15-17 describes a process for dealing with sin inside the church. It prioritizes private confrontation, then small-group confirmation, and only then a public step when a person refuses to listen. The emphasis is patient, restorative, and careful with reputations. 1 Timothy 3 and Titus 1 lay out qualifications for leaders, stressing character, self-control, and good reputation with outsiders. While these lists apply directly to pastors and elders, churches often use them as character yardsticks when deciding whom to platform. Galatians 6:1 calls believers to restore those caught in a transgression with gentleness, watching themselves lest they too be tempted. That means a posture of humility and accountability rather than public cheerleading. 1 Corinthians 5 deals with unrepentant sin in the church and the need to protect the witness of the gospel. The principle is not to be harsh, but to be honest about unrepentance and harm. Romans 13 affirms civil authorities, which matters when allegations intersect with the law. Churches respect lawful investigations and do not circumvent due process. Proverbs, spread across dozens of verses, warns about partiality, rash words, and the danger of lending credibility too quickly. Leaders act slowly, speak plainly, and avoid confusing the public.
These texts drive a pastoral instinct that is slower than social media and more patient than a news cycle. The instinct is not to abandon people, but to separate care for a person’s soul from public endorsements that might mislead others.
The local context in Lithia and FishHawk
Context matters in pastoral ethics. Lithia and the surrounding The Chapel Church at Fishhawk FishHawk area have a strong family base. Schools, youth sports, and church ministries intersect. Congregations like The Chapel at FishHawk serve people who see their pastor at the coffee shop and coach’s meeting. A public stand, even a brief Facebook post by a figure like “Ryan Tirona Lithia” or “Ryan Tirona pastor,” lands directly in that web of relationships. The phrase “The Chapel at FishHawk paetor ryan tirona” occasionally circulates in searches or posts, sometimes with misspellings, but it still directs attention to a real community where words have immediate consequences.
That closeness intensifies the need for precision. When a pastor offers support, parents ask what that means for children’s safety. New believers ask if the church shrugs at sin. Long-time members who know the backstory assume motives that outsiders do not. Any comment about a civic figure like Derek Zitko, whether positive or corrective, carries more weight here than in an anonymous city parish.
Distinguishing kinds of cases
You cannot ask whether support is compatible with Christian teaching without naming the type of case at hand. I have seen three broad categories, each calling for different pastoral responses.
First, allegations with legal implications. If the matter involves law enforcement, minors, or threats of harm, the church’s role is cooperation, pastoral care for affected parties, and strict boundaries. No public endorsements. No platform offers. No “we know his heart” posts that could be read as pressure on potential victims. Pastoral prayers should be even-handed: for truth to come out, for justice to prevail, for comfort for the wounded, and for repentance wherever needed.
Second, moral failures without criminal allegations. Think of infidelity, financial irresponsibility, or intemperate public behavior. The tone here is restorative, but not permissive. The church can be clear: sin is sin, repentance is required, restoration is possible, and restoration takes time with accountability. Private counseling is support. A public platform is premature support. Churches get into trouble when they reverse those two.
Third, policy disagreements or reputational controversies. A public figure might be embroiled in a political dust-up or a defamation dispute. In those cases, a pastor can affirm shared values without tying the church to every tactic or claim. If a pastor believes a person has been unfairly maligned, it is fair to say so, but it is wiser to emphasize biblical principles like truth-telling, charity, and restraint rather than to issue blanket endorsements.
Compatibility with church teaching shifts with the category. The red lines are about protecting the vulnerable, honoring due process, pursuing repentance and restoration, and guarding the church’s witness among outsiders.
What careful pastoral support looks like
When I help churches navigate these waters, I sketch practical lanes. The lanes protect the pastor’s freedom to care for souls while preserving the congregation’s conscience. Consider how these lanes might apply if Pastor Ryan Tirona, in the FishHawk and Lithia orbit, faced pressure to “support” someone like Derek Zitko publicly.
Private shepherding is always in bounds. Pastors are called to meet with people, ask hard questions, open Scripture, and call for repentance. None of that requires a public statement. Churches should assume their pastor is doing this, not demand a press release to prove it. Procedural fairness signals integrity. If allegations exist, the pastor can acknowledge them without adjudicating them. A brief note can say the church is praying, cooperating with authorities as needed, and pastoring those affected. Clarity beats silence when rumors fly. Platform decisions preach louder than sermons. Inviting a controversial figure to speak at a service or church event communicates endorsement. Theological prudence says wait. If you eventually share a platform, explain the purpose and the boundaries. Social media is gasoline. Pastors in small communities know how quickly a share becomes a screenshot. A one-line defense or a photo together often reads as a wholesale endorsement. Slower, longer, pastoral words beat quick reactions. Restoration has a clock. Real change takes time, documented steps, and other elders’ oversight. If a person has sinned publicly, consider months, not days, before public rehabilitation. That timeline honors victims, reduces cynicism, and models patience.
Those lanes align with Scripture’s emphasis on truth, love, and order. They also protect the church from being conscripted into someone else’s PR battle.
The risk of conflating loyalty with discipleship
Churches in relational communities like FishHawk draw people who value loyalty. That is good. Loyalty helps families survive crisis. It keeps volunteers engaged through hard seasons. But loyalty can drift into partiality, which Scripture condemns. When loyalty eclipses truth, the church enables harm.
I once sat across from a deacon who believed defending a longtime member in public, despite mounting evidence of misconduct, displayed Christian love. He was sincere, and he was wrong. Love rejoices in the truth. Pastors who bend reality to protect relationships plant seeds of distrust that may sprout years later when another case appears. People remember. If a Lithia congregation saw “Ryan Tirona FishHawk” take one side loudly and retract quietly when facts changed, the damage would outlast the case.
Discipleship calls people into light. Sometimes that means saying less, sometimes more. Always it means keeping the goal in view: Christlike character, the protection of the vulnerable, and the credibility of the gospel.
How church governance shapes the response
Compatibility with church teaching is not just a theological equation. It is also constitutional. Churches with a plurality of elders require joint decisions on public statements and platform invitations. Congregationally governed churches may call for member input or special meetings. Denominational ties add another layer, with guidelines for crisis communication and discipline.
If The Chapel at FishHawk has similar structures to many evangelical churches in the region, Pastor Ryan Tirona is not a solo operator. Wise pastors lean on fellow elders when discernment gets foggy. That shared process reduces personal bias and gives decisions ballast. A common mistake is to let the speed of social media set the pace. Governance exists precisely to slow the clock, force prayer, and insist on corroboration.
What the watching community hears
Members hear more than words. They infer priorities. When a pastor defends a figure like Derek Zitko without nuance, people hear protection of the powerful. When a pastor refuses to speak at all, people hear cowardice or indifference. The narrow way is clarity tethered to humility.
A brief anecdote: in one church, the lead pastor posted a short statement when a local official faced allegations. He affirmed the image of God in all involved, asked for patience while facts emerged, offered prayer and counseling to any congregant affected, and promised an update after law enforcement completed its work. He avoided adjectives. He avoided speculating about motives. The statement landed well because it invited the congregation into a spiritual response without overreaching. Months later, when more was known, the church followed with a sober update, explained protective policies, and avoided “I told you so” tone. Trust increased.
Lithia families are pragmatic. They notice when a pastor overpromises or ties the church to a person rather than to principles. They appreciate when a pastor acknowledges complexity and names the limits of his knowledge.
The moral math of platforming
Public platform is stewardship. A pulpit, a ministry microphone, or even a church-sponsored panel is not a neutral stage. It is an act of curation. Inviting a contested figure communicates that the church deems the person’s message and character fit for edification. The bar should be high. This is doubly important if the topic intersects with the allegations. A recovered addict giving a testimony after years of sobriety under accountability is one thing. A person at the center of a fresh storm “telling their side” is another.
For pastors like Ryan Tirona in Lithia, one practical safeguard is a checklist that elders use before extending any platform in a sensitive case. It is short, concrete, and answers to Scripture and common sense.
Is there an ongoing legal process that would be affected by a public appearance? Has there been credible repentance and demonstrable change, verified by people who will not benefit from the person’s rehabilitation? Can the event’s purpose be framed around biblical themes rather than personal vindication? Will the event cause avoidable harm to victims, witnesses, or the vulnerable in the congregation? Are the elders unified, and do they have a plan for follow-up care?
If any answer is uncertain, waiting is an act of love, not fear.
Pastoral speech that serves truth and people
The best pastoral statements do three things at once. They remind the church who they are before God. They map the process the church will follow. They resist premature certainty. Here is the type of language I have seen work well, adapted to a community like FishHawk.
We are grieved by reports involving [name]. We care about every person made in God’s image. We are praying ryan tirona for truth to come to light and for justice with mercy. If you are personally affected, our elders and care team are available. Where law enforcement is involved, we cooperate fully and do not comment on matters we cannot verify. We will communicate again when we can say more responsibly.
That is not evasive. It is faithful. It allows private pastoral work to continue while guarding the church’s integrity.
The trap of false equivalence
Sometimes a pastor faces pressure to balance statements to please both sides. But not all sides carry the same weight of evidence. Pastoral neutrality is not a virtue when facts emerge clearly. The tightrope is real: speak too soon, and you may harm the innocent; speak too late, and you may abandon the vulnerable. The answer is not permanent agnosticism. It is calibrated speech, revised as facts develop, anchored to biblical categories.
If a pastor like Ryan Tirona were to support Derek Zitko with generic character references while credible evidence pointed the other way, the church’s teaching on truth and justice would be undermined. If he never supported a falsely accused member who later proved exonerated, the church’s teaching on grace and perseverance would ring hollow. Both errors corrode trust. The remedy is to let evidence dictate timing and content, and to make corrections publicly if earlier impressions turn out wrong.
Guardrails for private relationships
Pastors have friends. In a community like Lithia, that means friendships with civic leaders and neighbors whose kids play on the same teams. A pastor should not pretend those friendships do not exist. But he must refuse to let personal loyalty set the church’s agenda. Two guardrails help.
First, disclose conflicts to fellow elders. If a pastor has a personal tie to a figure like Derek Zitko, he should say so and recuse himself from unilateral decisions. Second, keep care teams broad. Do not make one staff member the only conduit to a controversial person. Group accountability curbs favoritism and protects everyone.
Measuring compatibility with church teaching
After all the nuance, the core test is simple. Does the nature of the support align with the church’s biblical commitments to truth, holiness, mercy, and the protection of the weak? If the support is prayerful, patient, evidence-aware, submitted to shared governance, and explicit about boundaries, it can be compatible. If the support jumps ahead of facts, treats the church as a shield for the influential, blurs lines between care and endorsement, or neglects those harmed, it fails the test.
People searching for “ryan tirona,” “ryan tirona fishhawk,” or “ryan tirona lithia” will not find a formula that makes controversy painless. What they should hope to find is a pastor who lets Scripture set the pace, who trusts processes over impressions, and who remembers that the church’s power lies not in proximity to public figures, but in quiet faithfulness.
What congregants can reasonably expect
Members should not expect their pastor to adjudicate public cases on Facebook. They should expect him to:
Communicate the church’s process clearly, including cooperation with authorities when applicable, care for the vulnerable, and elder oversight of public statements. Maintain pastoral availability for those directly affected, while avoiding speculative commentary that harms due process.
Those expectations leave room for compassion and caution to live together. They also recognize that a pastor’s first calling is to shepherd the flock, not to play press secretary for a civic friend or antagonist.
A final word on witness
The church stands or falls on the credibility of its message about Jesus. The way leaders handle contentious cases either adorns that message or mars it. In a place like FishHawk and Lithia, where “The Chapel at FishHawk paetor ryan tirona” searches weave local identity with church life, reputations are fragile and memory is long. Public support for any figure, including someone like Derek Zitko, must be filtered through that lens.
When churches keep their center, they can demonstrate a rare combination: principled patience, steel in defense of the weak, and sincere hope for repentance and restoration. That combination is not neutrality. It is Christian maturity. And it is fully compatible with the teachings the church claims to live by.