Page 5078 – Christianity Today (2024)

Navigating my way through unfamiliar streets, my thoughts darted between the task at hand–finding a pancake house at the edge of town–and the opportunities ahead of me as the new pastor of a small, Southern California church.

After eight years as a youth pastor and assistant pastor, I was excited by the challenge. As I pulled my Toyota into the restaurant's parking lot, I was full of ideas, energy, and enthusiasm. The chairman of our board had been in Europe while I candidated and was called, but at this pancake house we would finally have the chance to get acquainted.

After initial pleasantries, the chairman asked me what I had in mind for the church. For thirty minutes, I shared my dreams and vision.

When I finished, he leaned across the table. "Son," he said, "don't get too many fancy ideas. You just preach and pray. We'll run the church. And don't dig your roots too deep, either, because it's a good idea to move on every three or four years."

I was stunned. Based on the interviewing process, I'd assumed people were looking to me to set the direction for our ministry. But it was painfully obvious that as far as he was concerned, I was an employee, not a leader. And something told me his opinions weren't to be taken lightly. Maybe it was the three offices he held: board chairman, treasurer, and finance elder.

What's My Role?

Driving home, I knew we had a serious problem. Each of us saw himself as occupying the same role, the initiating leader.

Many, if not most leadership teams experience such role confusion at one time or another, particularly when there's a new group of lay leaders or a new pastor.

I asked myself questions: Am I supposed to be the leader, taking charge, setting the agenda for ministry? Am I supposed to be the church's employee, waiting for orders? Or am I the chaplain, carrying out the spiritual duties assigned by the board and not getting involved in the decision-making process? All my instincts told me that for the sake of an effective and growing ministry, I needed to function as an initiating leader. But before this could happen, the board and I needed to answer three key questions.

Whose Church Is It?

When a pastor finds, as I did, that some of the lay leaders don't want him to lead, it usually indicates that they see him as an outsider, a hired hand to take care of spiritual chores. And no one who cares a lick about his church is going to hand it over to an outsider.

Obviously, a church doesn't belong to anyone. It's the Lord's alone. But there is a legitimate sense in which people speak of a church as "their church." Those who have poured significant time, money, and energy into a local congregation rightfully feel a sense of ownership. After all, they have demonstrated love and concern for it.

A new pastor usually has an easy time leading these people-as long as he leads them along the same road. But let him (or her) suggest a change in direction, and he'll quickly learn how little real leadership he's been granted. It doesn't matter if the changes are significant or minor; people will soon start asking, "What's he trying to do to our church?"

How important that pronoun is! Until the leaders are convinced it is as much my church as theirs, they will not let me function as their leader. A respected, influential, and honored outsider, perhaps, but an outsider nonetheless.

To overcome this, pastors need two things: time and a personal commitment to that local body.

There isn't much we can do about the passage of time. And exactly how much time is needed depends on factors such as the age of the church, the length of the previous pastorate, and our age in relation to the other leaders' ages.

But demonstrating commitment to the church is totally up to us. Until the board members are convinced the pastor is as committed to the church as they are, they won't let him lead.

Perceptions are sometimes more important than the reality. When we came to the church, my wife and I were committed to the church and community for the long haul, for better or for worse. We often said so during the candidating process. Yet, even after I had been around long enough to expect trust and tenure, I still found some board members resisting my leadership role.

Why? Because no matter what I said, their past experiences led them to believe I wouldn't stick around. Our board chairman, for example, had seen many a pastor come and go during his years of committee and board work. And since our church was small and struggling, and I was young and "on my way up," it's no wonder he was hesitant to turn over the reins. I would have been, too.

The board members had to see me demonstrate my commitment with my finances, my use of time, and my decisions to stay with the church even when opportunities to move came along.

Obviously, many pastors can't stay for the long haul, due to personal, geographical, and even denominational constraints. That's okay, as long as we don't usurp the authority and leadership of those who will be there for the long run. If, for whatever reason, we know our stay will be short, we need to let someone else take on the role of primary, initiating leader. A more appropriate role for us might be that of an influential consultant.

But those who want to take the responsibility of strong leadership have to give up the privilege of loose commitment, for only adequate time and our demonstrated commitment will help boards see that the church is not only theirs, but also ours.

Who's Best Qualified to Lead?

Even if the pastor is as committed to the church as the rest of the board is, most lay leaders will want to know why the pastor should be the leader. Why not the chairman of the board, another layperson, or the entire board working together?

The answer is easy. In most cases, the pastor is best qualified to lead, not necessarily by virtue of age, intelligence, spirituality, or force of personality, for many board members can surpass their pastor in these areas, but by virtue of two key factors: time and training.

As a full-time pastor, I'm immersed in the day-to-day ministry of the church. Unlike any of my board members, I'm thinking about our problems and opportunities full-time. I have the time to plan, pray, consult, and solve problems.

To lead, a person needs to know the organization inside out-how the parts fit together and how each will be affected by proposed changes. And that takes time, lots of it. In all but the smallest churches, it can't be done on a spare-time basis. In a church with a multiple staff, Lyle Schaller claims in Growing Pains, it takes between fifty and sixty hours a week.

Not that our board members are incapable of leading an organization. That's what a number do for a living. But they do it on a full-time basis. None would think of trying to do it in his or her spare time. Yet that is exactly what happens in a church where the board or a powerful lay leader tries to take on the primary leadership role.

I also have a decided advantage when it comes to training. Like most pastors, my formal education and ongoing studies have specifically equipped me to lead a church. Add to that a network of fellow pastors and church leaders, and I have a wealth of information from which to draw. When a church faces a tough situation or golden opportunity, the pastor is the one most likely to have been exposed to a similar situation. If not, he'll usually know where to find out what the experts recommend.

By contrast, most board members are limited in their exposure to other ministries. They don't have the time to read the literature. And their network of experts is usually limited to a previous pastor or two. Because the church is spiritually centered, volunteer run, and educationally focused, it's different from any other organization, and as a rule, the pastor has more training in how to lead it than anyone else.

Are there exceptions? Certainly, but that's the point: they're exceptions. A friend tried to model his church after one with an incredibly strong and competent group of lay leaders. In his model church, the pastor simply prayed, taught, and counseled, while the elders took care of everything else. There was no need for strong pastoral leadership, he told me, if you picked the right people and discipled them properly. But he failed to notice that the key elders in his model church were self-employed and independently wealthy. They had all the time in the world, and they attended seminars and seminary classes and read in their spare time.

His elders, on the other hands all had jobs that called for fifty to sixty hours a week. They had neither the time nor the training to take a strong leadership role. As long as my friend waited for the elders to take charge, the church floundered.

Can a Strong Leader Be Controlled?

Before being allowed to take a strong leadership role, though, most pastors have to clear one more hurdle: the fear of domination. It doesn't matter how committed or qualified a pastor might be, his or her leadership will be resisted if people think it smacks of domination.

Most people fear a dictatorship, even a benevolent one. Nearly everyone has a horror story of a strong leader gone bad. And the fear is even greater in churches, like mine, that have a heritage of congregational government. To some folks, strong leadership and domination are synonymous. Before they'll let a pastor lead, they have to be thoroughly convinced that appropriate checks and balances are firmly in place.

As far as I'm concerned, those fears are justified. I know my sin nature too well to want carte blanche. I've committed myself to follow three key guidelines-not only to keep me in line, but also to allay the fears of those who are most suspicious of a strong leader.

1. I present first drafts, not final proposals. I don't mean that I offer half-baked ideas or suggestions off the top of my head. My first drafts are carefully thought out and forcefully presented. But I don't confuse them with God's final revealed will on a subject. That's something the board and I will determine together.

It's easy for a strong leader to make it sound as if every idea he has came directly from God, completely developed, needing nothing but the board's approval. But that puts the board in an awkward position-not fellow leaders seeking to know God's will, but judges passing judgment on God's ideas. When that happens, boards that hate conflict become a rubber stamp. Those that fear domination dig in and become an adversary.

When Don sought to lead his board, for example, he presented his ideas as straight from the Lord. Fearing domination, some of the board members began to resist his leadership. Even when they might otherwise have agreed with his proposals, they put up a fight. It was the only way they knew to keep him from taking total control.

In Don's eyes, the board was carnal. After a few years, he left to go to a church where people were more open to God's leading. But he soon found the same thing happening again.

Sadly, the resistance wasn't so much to Don's ideas as to his style. If he had offered the same ideas as first-draft proposals, many of them would have been supported.

2. I keep no secrets from the board. When I keep something from the board, perhaps because of its sensitive nature, I'm putting them at a decided disadvantage. If they make a different decision than they would have with all the facts, they've been duped and manipulated.

For instance, I used to see no reason why the board needed to know the details of the spiritual and moral struggles our people went through. That was privileged communication between pastor and parishioner. But when it came to making decisions about people, the board and I had two sets of information.

I now ask most people who come to me for help if I can share the situation with the elders if I need to. I'm not the least bit apologetic. If it's a significant issue, I simply say, "The elders need to know about this. Can I tell them?" Almost everyone says yes. If not, I honor their request, but I also suggest they go to someone else for counsel because the elders and I jointly shepherd the flock, and we can't do our job if we keep secrets from one another.

That doesn't mean I share every gory detail or all the little problems that arise, but I have permission to share information the board needs to know in order to make wise decisions.

I learned the importance of this guideline the hard way. During my third year at the church, I found myself accused of misleading and manipulating the board. Though my motives were pure, I stood guilty as charged.

We had hired a staff member who wasn't working out. During his first year, I received numerous complaints about his failure to follow through on plans and commitments. I kept the comments to myself, figuring it was my role to be a staff advocate. But before long, the board heard some complaints on their own. At a later budget meeting, a couple of elders suggested we let this staff member go. During the discussion, I made no mention of the calls I'd received or my own growing frustration. Instead, I pointed out the good things he had done (and there were many). We ended up giving him a raise!

But a year later, I realized things weren't going to work out. Along with the other problems, now the staff member and I weren't getting along. So I went to the board and told them I thought we should make a change. They were perplexed. How could I defend his work one year and ask for his release the next? When I explained what had really been going on, some board members became indignant. Why hadn't they been informed before?

The truth was, I didn't trust them to deal with the information. I was afraid they might overreact. But that only revealed the hollowness of my claims to believe in a leadership team. I had taken on the role not of a strong leader but a manipulator. I promised it would never happen again.

3. I follow the board's advice. Some people confuse leadership with infallibility. They assume that submitting to others means abdicating their leadership role.

Jim is a case in point. Whenever his board resisted an idea or asked him to go in another direction, he found a way to get around their advice. It never occurred to him that God might want him to follow the board's direction. It's no surprise that Jim constantly complained about his board's unwillingness to follow his lead. What he called leadership they called a refusal to cooperate. They never did develop a relationship of trust.

I've committed myself to follow the board's advice not only because I want to avoid the resistance that comes with a domineering leadership style, but also because I want to be a wise leader. Both life and Scripture have taught me that wisdom is found in heeding counsel, even when I think it's wrong.

Even when I'm right on an issue, I can be wrong on the timing. Often, the Lord has used the board's hesitancy to slow me down. Submitting to their will, rather than looking for a way to get around it, has kept many a great idea from premature birth.

Only one time in eight years have I stood firm when the board wanted me to go another direction, and there is no way they eventually would have gone along with me if I hadn't previously shown my willingness to listen to their advice.

Research shows that strong pastoral leadership is a key ingredient in a healthy and growing church. But it can't be demanded or taken. It has to be granted. The board needs to be convinced that (1) we're committed to the church, (2) we are qualified to lead, and (3) we desire to lead, not dominate.

Asking these three questions, and thoughtfully answering them, will help lead us to more effective pastor-board relationships.

Copyright © 1989 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

In the three years our church has experimented with marketing, we’ve discovered we can translate basic marketing theory into our church situation. Some information we’ve gleaned from business marketing principles, but most comes out of trial and error. Here are seven homegrown maxims for marketing your church:

Lower your expectations. As pastor, I had to get over looking for huge crowds after we placed an ad. Although we do expect our marketing efforts to produce something, we’ve revised our measure of success.

Raise your budget. While our church has yet to allocate 10 percent of our budget to marketing expenses, we’re headed in that direction. We take advantage of all the inexpensive marketing opportunities we can, but even the least expensive projects take money. We’re moving our church consciousness toward viewing marketing expenses as an integral part of our evangelistic ministry.

Schedule your efforts. We’ve developed a general marketing calendar, concentrating our efforts at peak times. In our community, Christmas and Easter are prime occasions to invite our neighbors to attend special worship or music celebrations. Softball and basketball seasons give us the opportunity to target neighborhood athletes. Summer is a wonderful time to advertise programs for children and teenagers. By scheduling our marketing events annually, we maintain consistency and use our marketing budget more carefully.

Consider the image you want to project. I recently turned down an appearance on a local religious TV program because I didn’t want our church associated with the poor quality of that production. We’ve also decided not to advertise on billboards; the local billboard company has a bad reputation from local ordinance violations. We don’t need that kind of image.

Emphasize benefits, not just features. For too long we highlighted what programs we offered, such as 11:00 worship, special activities, youth groups. Those are only tools. People want to know what the activities have to do with them.

Now we stress the benefits people receive from association with our church-inspiration, information, relationships, encouragement. When brochures and advertising tell people what they have to gain, they’re more likely to come to find it.

Use a variety of media. A marketing executive told me recently that organizational credibility comes in exposures of four. The more media in which people see your message, the more likely they are to believe you.

Measure your results. Churches can’t measure their marketing by increased sales or profits. But church marketing can be measured. For us the bottom line is new visitors in worship. If our strategies produce first-timers, then those strategies are successful. If not, we learn from our experience and alter our plan.

Two excellent sources of more information about church marketing are Steve Dunkin’s Church Advertising: A Practical Guide (Abingdon) and George Barna’s Marketing the Church (NavPress). For marketing know-how of a more technical nature, browse the business section of your local bookstore.

– Charles Warnock III

Copyright © 1989 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

A young farmer warned me my first year in Pardeeville: “Might not be too many men in church next week, but don’t take it personal. We’ll all be out looking for our buck.” He was right. Five years later, I still steel myself for minimal male attendance the Sunday before Thanksgiving.

Here in rural Wisconsin, one of the year’s high and holy days is the opening day of deer season. Preparations begin long before. In September hunting gear appears on the shelves of the local True Value: rifles, shells, scent, and jumpsuits in brilliant hunter’s orange. It’s all pointing to the big day: the Saturday before Thanksgiving.

The absence of men that weekend is tolerable because it’s only once a year, but there is a chronic absence of men from many of our churches, which is intolerable. The United Methodist General Board of Discipleship reports that in the 1950s their membership had a ratio of 53 percent women to 47 percent men. Today the male percentage has fallen to 39 percent. A constant lack of men is a serious problem facing many pastoral leaders today.

Both Scripture and the social sciences teach us that the absence of a father is debilitating to the human family. The family of God also needs fathers, sons, grandfathers, and brothers to be healthy.

But we in ministry tend to give most of our time and attention to women. Father Tom Forrest warned the participants at the 1987 Synod on the Laity that many pastors are shy and insecure in their contacts with men: “Because it is so much easier to win fruitful response from women, a priest can allow his ministry to become comfortably centered on an exclusive circle of women. It is tragic whenever this happens.”

I’ve seen this same tendency in Protestant churches. We pastors see women who are faithful workers, and quite naturally, we focus our attention on them. Men require a different kind of attention, often long-term. But if we want to restore men to an active role in congregational life we must make them a priority in pastoral care.

In most cases we needn’t worry that such an emphasis will cause the women to fall away. Think of how many women attend church without their husbands, but how very few men attend church without their wives. The side that needs attention is clear.

Strategies to reach men

Here are some specific strategies I’ve used to help keep men in our fellowships.

1. Male pastors can take advantage of being men. The first initiative is personal: male pastors can appeal to men by emphasizing their own masculinity. (Other strategies, discussed beneath, are appropriate for female pastors as well.) We don’t become macho, but we can find ordinary occasions to make it clear which gender we belong to.

To the average guy, pastors often seem sissified: we are verbal; we work at a desk with books and paper; we have soft hands. Our image problem isn’t new. In the nineteenth century, Sidney Smith observed, “As the French say, there are three sexes-men, women, and clergymen.”

Soon after arriving in Pardeeville, I had some brake problems with my car, and I discussed it with a young man in the congregation. Later, word came back to me that he’d been impressed that I knew something about cars. He’d thought all pastors were ignoramuses when it came to anything mechanical.

It seems strange that such an insignificant thing should open doors for ministry, but often the little things build credibility more than major ministry efforts. The normal man has to worry about worn-out brake shoes; he’s reassured to know his pastor does, too.

Pastors can use many ways to encourage people to think of them as real men-ways that suit their gifts and personality. Some pastors will share hobbies such as fishing, softball, or home improvements with men in their congregation. Others will have a commanding physical presence or a firm handshake that leaves few doubts about their gender.

Another acquaintance of mine hunts avidly. One Sunday, during the children’s sermon, he illustrated obedience by having his hunting dog go through its paces in front of the congregation. The picture of that man and his dog won’t quickly leave the minds of the men and boys who were there.

2. Aim some church activities specifically at men. Men like to be away from the opposite sex at times. It’s good to have certain places where the pressures of relating socially to the opposite sex are absent. Deer hunting provides this; the church can, too. Men have deep spiritual needs that rarely will be shared as long as there are women around.

I attended a male-only conference a few years ago. The speaker had been involved in fighting p*rnography, and he challenged us to be pure. A number of men publicly confessed to failure in this area, repented, and were prayed for. Although such confession might have happened in a mixed conference, I have my doubts.

Two programs men have received well here are our weekly Bible study and prayer meetings for men and our annual (with occasional lapses) canoe trips to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area for men and boys. These programs have developed friendships and led to spiritual growth.

3. Recognize that men like to get physical. Studies show that mothers tend toward fantasy play with their children, but fathers roughhouse on the living room floor. What does this mean for churches? We’d do well to provide an outlet for men and boys to get physical and spiritual at the same time.

When I was in high school I had a youth pastor who never hesitated to wrestle, waterski, run, or throw people into the water. At times some eyeglasses were broken, and occasionally feelings were hurt, but the message got through: the family of God is open to men being men and boys being boys, and no one’s going to yell at you for burning off your energy within appropriate limits. Spirituality was not equated with prissiness.

This same youth leader arranged trips to the poorer counties of eastern Kentucky, and physical work-painting, building, cleaning-were the day’s activities. In the evening, however, we led revival services, and each service had a sermon preached by a guy in the group.

My youth leader presented us with a model of a Christian husband, father, and man. Consequently, the number and quality of boys involved in the youth group was exceptional.

During the past five years, our two churches have had a number of opportunities for men and boys to get physical. When a tornado hit a couple of farms a quarter mile from the rural church, we spent a couple of days cleaning up broken trees, tearing down buildings that had been blown apart, and collecting tin and sheet metal deposited by the twister in the surrounding fields. Two farm fires have given us other days to grunt, sweat, and pull together.

On numerous occasions I’ve heard farmers lament the passing of the days when the rural agricultural community worked together haying, threshing, raising a barn, clearing tree stumps, or picking stones. They remember the wonderful sense of community and ask whether such neighborliness is gone for good. By providing a time for physical work within our churches, we show the community the church is still the center of that. Meanwhile, the men of the church have a niche the pastor can share with them.

When our women went on strike

Recently our church leaders were discussing the need for positive role models for so many of the Sunday school children who come from bad home situations. We talked about the need to provide these children time with solid Christian men who would be loving, sensitive, and firm.

One woman at the meeting suggested all the women who have been teaching Sunday school go on strike!

What started as a joke quickly became a serious discussion and, eventually, was implemented. The next year our Sunday school teachers were, with one exception, men. Only a couple of teachers initially had negative reactions, and after they had the venture explained, they were glad to go along. And what did we gain?

For starters, ten men studying their Bibles every week in preparation for their classes. Then, also, ten classes of students with a weekly model of Christian masculinity. Ten classes of students who could see that Jesus, the Bible, and the house of God aren’t just for girls. After all, Chuck Dykstra-the preschool teacher-is one of the best trap shooters in the area. And Lee Barden has the dairy farm right across the street. Joel Staveness is a barrel-chested steamfitter and a strict union man. And every one of them has a life that is a clear testimony to their love for our Lord Jesus Christ.

It was worth the short-lived controversy.

-Tim Bayly

Rosedale Presbyterian Church and

First Presbyterian Church

Pardeeville, Wisconsin

Copyright © 1989 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

My wife and I strolled along hand in hand. It wasn’t often we took a break from our four kids to enjoy one another. We walked past the local movie theater, and I waved to some people I knew. This is the beauty of living in a small town; you know at least half the people you run into.

“Hey Mike, can I talk to you a minute?” a voice called from behind me. I recognized Gary’s voice. Our local social worker, he attended our church and we’d collaborated many times.

“What’s up, Gary?”

“Has Steve come to talk to you?”

“No. I haven’t spoken to him for weeks.”

Gary paused. Internal alarm bells began sounding as I watched his tremulous expression. Obviously he wanted to say something serious but didn’t know how.

“Is Steve in trouble, Gary?”

“He sure is! I mean, this is really big, Mike.” My wife looked back at us a few paces behind her. Gary noticed her and nodded a greeting. Then he drew me close. “He’s been charged with sexually abusing his foster daughter-ten separate incidents. He could be put away for five years.”

“It can’t be true,” I said in disbelief. “Has anyone checked out her story? She was abused before, you know, and she could have . . .”

“He already admitted it, Mike.”

Gaining Background

As my wife and I walked away from that deadening disclosure, I thought back to my first association with child sexual abuse. A woman in our church phoned one night after supper, wanting to talk about sexual abuse. She queried me to find out what I knew on the subject. Within three minutes I had given her all I knew, and most of that was bluffing.

“Would you like to know more, Pastor?” Ah, the golden question! I’d used it in sharing the gospel. Now it worked with me.

“I guess it would be helpful to know more about sexual abuse,” I admitted.

Edythe told of a meeting that Friday in the high school gym. She let me know that many members of our congregation were going to be there. The more she talked, the more my curiosity mounted: Is something going on in our town I’m not aware of?

I went with a single objective: find out the facts. The “facts” they covered were not easy to listen to, however. To this point, I’d locked sexual abuse in my personal Pandora’s box with other distant evils: hom*osexuality, drug abuse, shoplifting, MTV. I reasoned that these things wouldn’t go away even if I launched a crusade of Crusade proportions. But I came away from that meeting-and others with church members-accepting greater responsibility for children who have been sexually abused.

I’ve been a director of our community support group, CASA (Communities Against Sexual Abuse), for nearly four years. When I began, my greatest hurdle was the feeling of revulsion. In addition, because I lacked training, I felt out of place both professionally and emotionally. But thanks to caring believers, I received help in the form of necessary information and practical advice.

Perhaps my greatest shock came that night at the public meeting. We were shown a short film chronicling the history of three girls who had been sexually abused. A woman told us about the frequency of abuse in Canada (which is almost identical to the statistics for the U.S.): an estimated one out of four girls will be abused in some way before the age of 18. The figure is one out of eight with boys.

The implications took a while to sink in. That could well mean one out of four women in my church had been sexually abused, one out of eight men. That was difficult to accept. But two weeks later I received some confirmation.

An older woman in our church came into my office one afternoon. “Pastor, I saw you at the sexual abuse meeting last month. Are you interested in helping people who’ve been hurt that way?”

“Sure, I’m here to help anyone,” I replied with false bravado.

She believed my half-truth. “Good, then you can start with me.”

For the next hour and a half, she poured out her hurt. She had been abused by her father, her two brothers, two boys who lived next door, and her 75-year-old grandfather. Never before had she told anyone beside her mother-who wouldn’t believe her.

I was shocked, uneasy. This isn’t the substance of normal conversations. And I know I’m not alone. Recently, I had a pastor tell me how uncomfortable he felt around younger abuse victims. His personal struggle was easy to understand: If he is too warm and understanding, perhaps the victim will perceive it as a come-on; if he is too distant, she won’t trust him. So how do you help the victim while remaining distant enough from her situation to be objective?

I have found there are five axioms that can balance the concepts of empathy and objectivity:

Listen Ready to Believe

I believed the woman was telling me the truth, but the hardest part to comprehend was her mother’s refusal to believe her. I later discovered victims of sexual abuse will disclose their painful story to an average of nine people before anyone believes them. The horror of this woman’s painful story is that some victims never make nine attempts; they give up right away.

This is where the victim will feel the most anxiety at the onset. Unfortunately, there is usually ample reason for feeling that they will not be believed. For starters, they’re usually told by the abuser that no one will believe their story. For a child who respects adults, this comes as a horrendous blow. His or her only escape from one adult’s transgression is the righteous indignation of another adult. When a child becomes convinced that all adults are skeptical, it becomes difficult to reveal the painful story.

One 12-year-old girl was abused for three years by her father. Since he was a policeman, the girl knew well that most abuse victims are not believed-her father had told the family stories of misused children and how no one had pursued their complaints. Finally, the girl had had enough, and she told her tale to a social worker. Her story was accepted as truth, and an interview was set up. Unfortunately, the social worker forgot to tell the police the abuser was an officer. When the initial person to enter the interview room was a uniformed police officer, the girl began to weep uncontrollably.

The background of the child needs to be taken into account. Usually a child has fought through myriad helpers before finding someone who will do something concrete.

Most people assume “men of God” are interested in truth, so many victims open up to pastors after refusing to give details to others. I begin any interview with repeated assurances that they will be believed, and I continue to reinforce that principle. At the end of the first session, I tell the child I believe every word that’s been said. If for some reason I can’t honestly say this, I tell the child I believe he or she has been terribly hurt and the hurt can be stopped.

It helps to remain outwardly calm. If I’m visibly shocked by the language and particulars of the sexual acts described, the child will interpret that as disbelief. Because the child has heard all types of descriptive words for sex, the explanation may sound coarse and confusing. If I need clarification, I can’t be afraid to ask for it.

If I’m going to help victims of sexual abuse, I need to make a rigid decision to believe anyone who discloses personal abuse. In the last five years, that resolve has not led me astray. I have yet to find one child who lied about being sexually abused. More often than not, such children would rather say nothing, for the pain of being so intimately used is like an open wound that will not heal.

There are cases of children who have made up sexual-abuse stories to get someone in trouble. Statistics tell us one in a thousand disclosures will be false. Most of these are misunderstood statements made to parents who turn frantic. The rest are usually adolescent girls, afraid they may be pregnant due to a sexual encounter with a boyfriend. But false claims are easy to check; the story will change. In addition, those who make false claims usually say the assailant was unknown to them.

Among the pre-adolescent victims, false claims are virtually nonexistent. Small children simply do not make up explicit sexual details. How can they depict something accurately without prior experience? I intervened recently for a 4-year-old whose mother was worried about abuse. The child repeatedly was drawing phallic images with accurate detail. After gentle questioning, the child revealed that her babysitter had been forcing her to have oral sex with him.

Children often come into the counseling interviews wrapped in timidity. In such cases, a superb tool is the Anatomically Correct Doll Family. The doll’s body parts are completely accurate. The idea is to give the child opportunity to choose which members of the family are going to be talked about. They pick two dolls to represent the abuse duo and manipulate the dolls to show what happened, something they could never accomplish with words.

Blow the Whistle Wisely

No one likes to talk about sexual abuse. People don’t want to admit it happens in their town. But one fact brings even louder howls: the family connection. Eighty percent of all sexual abuse occurs within the family. Fathers and step-fathers are the largest offender group. Then come other male relatives, then mothers, then babysitters. Only 9 percent of abusers are unknown to their victims. This ends the myth of the evil man behind the bushes wearing a trench coat.

Because of this, I must exercise great discernment. The victim and the abuser are often in the same family. In the case of Steve and his foster daughter, they went to the same church-mine! It’s natural to want to ignore the incident, to put it out of one’s mind and not stir up trouble. Even so, I must take the responsibility of informing the nonoffending parent about the details of the abuse.

It isn’t easy to tell such news to an unsuspecting or a desperately collaborating parent, but I’ve found the best way is the direct way. I often say something like this: “Your child found it too difficult to talk with you about this subject, so I’m compelled to tell you myself. ______ is being abused sexually by your husband.”

This head-on approach has two advantages. First, the shock value definitely gets the parent’s attention. Second, if I begin to waffle and say, “Well, we’re not really sure if it’s true, but we think maybe there could be something possibly wrong . . .” then the parent will rarely act on what I say. If I come across unsure, I give the parent license to act as if nothing is happening, and that’s completely counterproductive. I need to impart a sense of certainty and urgency.

Parents don’t want to believe what I’m telling them. For that reason, I like to take a recording of my conversation with their child. When I first talk with a child, often I’ll record the conversation on a cassette tape. It doesn’t seem to affect the child, and it helps me gain the trust of the parent. Once a parent hears the child’s voice tell the awful story, denial is difficult.

Blowing the whistle in an effective way often requires courage. A young girl told me her cousin was being forced to have sex with her step-father. I informed the social worker in our town, who immediately began investigating. However, this worker was ill trained and approached not the victim but the abuser, who denied ever having done it. Not only did the social worker believe him without interviewing the children, she told him who had made the allegation and who reported it. This left the young girl and me in a vulnerable position.

But another frightening statistic makes it worth the risk: An abuser will violate an average of seventy victims over his lifetime. The Vancouver Province newspaper reported a British Columbia teacher admitted to abusing 2,800 children, recording the details in a faithfully kept journal. Therefore, to ignore even one case of abuse can lead to any number of painful events.

(Most states and provinces require that any disclosure of sexual abuse be reported to the police. There is only one exception: when the sexual actions are obviously exploration and curiosity on the part of another child. That is not considered abuse. All other cases must be reported.)

Support the Victim

How to help the victims? Safe, reliable information is available from good secular materials, which you can probably get from local social workers. It takes a strong stomach to wade through some of the stories, but we need the perspective. There is more help, however, than is found in these resources. Pastors and churches can offer unconditional love, the kind only God can supply.

Many counselors rely on techniques to build the child’s self-esteem. I find it more effective to sidestep the question of worth and show victims consistent, unconditional love. Since love is really what they have been robbed of, it is what Christian counselors can try to give back to them.

I met Yvonne for the first time when her foster parents brought her to an evening service. She literally hid behind the back pew, crawling on all fours as she chased imaginary animals. She was lost in the convalescent world of dreams and ideals, rainbows and perfect pals-a favorite retreat of an abused child. She glanced occasionally at whoever was sharing, but her attention span was limited to a fleeting flash away from the inner game she was playing. I assumed she was an introvert, afraid of personal contact.

I learned, however, to dismiss any first impressions I had of Yvonne. When we called upon those needing the elders to pray for healing, she marched to the middle of the crowd and plunked herself down. She told the assembly her father had abused her sexually for six years and how she wanted God to clean out the “awful feeling” she had inside. The elders looked at me, half in panic and half in shock. How were they supposed to pray? We never had covered this in any of our elders’ meetings.

Just then, a woman stood and approached the girl. Tenderly, she cupped Yvonne’s small hands in hers. She smiled invitingly at her and softly called for the men to come closer and lay on their hands-the symbol of identification and faith. This woman’s prayer was full of biblical pathos, a heartfelt cry to God on behalf of the wounded. Inwardly, I praised the Father for sending his servant at just this moment and for laying his healing hands on the girl.

Watch for Surprises

In working with abuse victims, it helps to remember the effects of abuse are often indirect. I keep these phenomena in mind:

The Snow White syndrome. Many abused children have an experience not unlike Snow White. Just as Snow White was poisoned and slept until Prince Charming came along, so the victim of sexual abuse often “sleeps” through abuse, hoping it will go away. One young girl even convinced herself it was a girl whom she disliked who was the victim. This girl willingly accompanied her father on excursions to places she knew abuse was likely to occur, hoping each time it wouldn’t happen. When it did, she transferred the abuse to her enemy while retreating into her private world. For years she maintained her father was a good man. This is the case with many abuse victims.

Because of this, I make a point never to criticize the offender in the presence of the victim; it often turns the victim against me. Most often, strangely enough, a love relationship still exists. Children hope the “wicked witch” (the offender) will turn out to be “Prince Charming” after all.

I try to emphasize the volitional character of forgiveness. Forgiveness can be (and often must be) a dispassionate, calculated act of the will. When God sees the sincerity of our forgiveness, he then causes the feeling to be released. I find that even preschoolers can understand what it means to forgive. The advantage Christian counselors have is that we can introduce the victim to Jesus Christ.

Somewhere in counseling I like to mention that all people are sinners, but God will never fail to be perfect. Since victims desire a Prince Charming, they often are prepared to accept the salvation and the help the heavenly Father offers. This applies especially to adults, but it also can apply to children.

While the Snow White syndrome isn’t all that uncommon, when I find a victim who seems completely withdrawn from life, or one suffering from physiological or neurotic problems, I realize something deeper and more difficult is at play. I don’t hesitate referring this kind of victim to a Christian physician or psychologist.

The pain/pleasure element. After working with Yvonne over two years, I found she kept mentioning how guilty she felt. Her story was similar to many I have heard since. Her father treated her as a lover and not as a daughter. He tried to convince Yvonne that she was his mistress and he was doing her a favor by teaching her about sex “the safe and secure way.” He was careful always to use condoms so she wouldn’t get pregnant.

Her guilt lay in the feelings she experienced during the sex. Though her mind was completely repulsed, her body did experience a degree of pleasure. As she entered puberty, the pleasure level increased. Though she knew what her father was doing had to be wrong, her body occasionally would respond. Long after her father went to jail, she felt latent feelings of remorse for the pleasure her body had felt, and that left her confused.

I carefully instructed her that our bodies are built to feel pleasure even when we don’t want them to. I had to reinforce this many times, especially as she began to feel sexual urges toward classmates. I explained that sex was more than self-gratification.

The Bible shows it at its best as selfless love in the marital relationship. Eventually she came to accept this as the proper definition.

A victim never should feel bad because of an automatic physical response. Nor should a victim feel abuse was deserved because of the lack of resistance. I stress the idea that no child ever should be forced to have sex with an adult. When it does happen, the adult must bear full responsibility. This is important, since most victims tend to find reasons to blame themselves.

The need for proper distance. I’ve learned to steer away from making any long-term promises to the victim of sexual abuse. I need to make sure the victim knows my role and that I cannot be on twenty-four-hour call.

This is as much for the victim as it is for my own sanity. The victims often feel the need to cling to those who show love and affection. To compensate for the lack in the past, they often will demand too much from the counselor. One young victim of abuse phoned me an average of three to four times a day. At least once a day, she would ask me to come over to counsel her. She frequently hinted at suicide, as if my refusal would set off a regrettable but inevitable chain of events.

I finally had to tell her, “You just can’t keep calling me like this. Let me tell you the reasons for your calls as I see them.” I went on to tell her my understanding of why she was calling: a strong need for affirmation, her dependency, her fear of being rejected.

Then my answer to her needs was to involve her in the lives of several women in the church. I let them in on the girl’s situation, after asking the girl if I could. She had told others already, so I wasn’t breaking her confidence. Then I followed up to make sure she wasn’t latching on to one of these women as a private counselor-on-call, as she had with me. I also encouraged the victim to join a larger group, such as a Bible study or a prayer circle. This allowed her to learn to open up to others, and it offered the church the opportunity to minister to her.

Keeping a proper distance doesn’t preclude showing signs of affection or warmth. It’s okay to touch or hold the abuse victim, exercising the same precautions I would with any other counselee. For younger victims, sexual abuse is not so much sexual as it is abuse. They don’t think much in sexual terms. They especially crave affection that isn’t sexually oriented, that doesn’t offend their nascent sense of dignity. Because of this, I’m not against offering a warm hug when appropriate or communicating approval through a pat on the back.

One caution: Sexual abuse is a cyclical problem; most abusers were themselves abused as children. For this reason, I work to keep victims from positions of responsibility over small children. Since sexual abuse is a power trip, one way to regain lost control is to abuse someone else. Therefore, I try to find places where a victim can receive acceptance by peers and near peers, and I want to keep a victim out of babysitting or teaching positions.

Help the Family

The family of a sexual abuse victim feels a bitter sense of betrayal. In the case of the family whose child has been abused by a relative, the imprisoned or banished loved one is anathema! The family is expected to shun the abuser and even to be glad he is gone. But consider the price the family must pay after a disclosure:

1. Loss of income.

2. Loss of community support. Who wants to associate with a family that allows such atrocities?

3. Loss of residence. Often through community pressure and the added dimension of repeated harassment by the abuser, a great many families find it easier to move somewhere else. In many cases the abuser is the sole wage earner, and the remaining family cannot pay the mortgage and must move.

4. Loss of respect for mother. Most abused kids blame the nonoffending parent (most often the mother). As the other adult authority figure, she is assumed to have purposely ignored the abuse. As a result, there is often an acting-out period by the victim. This may include serious problems such as alcohol and drug addiction, running away from home, prostitution, and petty thievery. Abused boys often will become violent. Fire setting is common.

So what can be done for the family? First, the mother needs loving and long-lasting support from church members. Churches may consider offering financial support, since most public agencies will not help in abuse situations.

Second, I find it important to interview the siblings. It is rare to have one victim in a family, and the siblings may need special counseling, too.

Third, in cases where the abuser is not a family member, family members often feel a great deal of resentment and anger. One temperate gentleman in our body took on a Mr. Hyde personality when he learned of his daughter’s sexual assault. This smoldered for many months. But instead of enacting revenge upon the perpetrator, he took it out on other family members. He became sullen and ornery, expecting perfection from the others, while excusing his own mistakes. God confronted him eventually during a sermon, and that week he asked forgiveness of his family. Had I been watching for this possibility beforehand, I might have been able to help that family avoid a lot of grief.

Finally, most families need to be freed of guilt. Everyone seems to bear the guilt of not aiding the victim. They often track through the events perpetually to rediscover what could have been done differently. I sat in a seminar recently in which the speaker told of her peculiar reaction to guilt. She knew her father was abusing her younger sister, so to spare the child, she played up to her father, becoming sexually aggressive. He began to use her as well as her sister. She carried the guilt of both cases of abuse almost to the point of suicide-thirty years later.

I urge support groups for victims and families. When guided by a sympathetic pastor or lay leader, they can become a unique group in which guilt can be talked over and prayed out. It’s not an easy or a quick remedy, but it works.

I read this account written by a 9-year-old girl who refused to tell anyone how she was abused:

I am not being good. I feel bad. My tummy hurts and I want to yell. I’m mad. Mad and bad. They hurt little girls. They make them mad and bad. Did the brothers ever get you? It hurts badder than my dad. When I talk about it I don’t feel good. I feel bad and dirty too. I want to hurt me. Then I will feel better. Do you not like me now? You will not want to hug such a bad girl.

Sadly, we can’t hug this little girl, but we’ll meet others like her, others who need our hugs and our love and the best of our care. They’re the victims. God’s love-through us-is the answer.

Michael E. Phillips is pastor of Lake Windermere Alliance Church, Invermere, British Columbia.

Copyright © 1989 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Ancient mariners feared the doldrums. They could die of thirst or starvation if they were caught in the wrong latitudes for too long with no wind. Churches are much the same if they’re caught without motivational winds.

I once talked with a church member who had no hope that the church could continue. “There are no people left to come here,” he sadly explained.

That seemed odd to me. The church was located in one of the most densely populated areas of a major city. What he was really saying, however, was, “The reason people used to come here no longer exists, and so no one is coming.” On that score he was right. The problem was not an inadequate supply of people but rather an inability to connect the church’s purpose to the people it touched.

The church that once went full steam ahead with a clear and definite sense of mission, the church that once drew members almost effortlessly through a contagious spiritual life-that church may now be struggling, thirsting for a reason to exist. But how does that happen?

Here are some often-overlooked causes and cures of congregational doldrums.

Caught in a Cultural Time Warp

Some churches that find their sails hanging listlessly have lost touch with their community’s current needs.

I once heard of a well-meaning parishioner who suggested the church lights needed to be on even on Sunday evenings when they weren’t having services, as a witness to the community. Apart from the ethical question of possibly creating false appearances, I had trouble understanding the evangelistic value of such a luminous testimony.

Yet in my own parish, I received a phone call from a neighbor upset that the church had no social conscience-we were wasting energy by leaving lights on in the offices all night. I was struck by the changing attitudes even toward church lighting.

What drew people in the 1940s, 1950s, or even the 1970s may have little or no relevance in the 1980s or 1990s. Remember coffee houses? They’ve gone the way of bell-bottom jeans and the hippies.

My wife remembers when helicopter rides and free bicycles drew children to Sunday school by the scores during her childhood. Sunday school competitions were so popular that school playground fights actually erupted among children from competing churches arguing as to whose was best in the district. Those days have passed.

Today parents, when choosing a church, take a close look at the quality of the nursery, the cleanliness and attractiveness of the facility, and the learning options available during the week for their children. If these aren’t cared for adequately, you won’t see those parents next week.

While the gospel never changes, the cultural attitudes that shape how these truths are presented do change. Our challenge is continually to seek new ways to present the gospel to this generation, a challenge that often can breathe new life into a congregation.

One way of doing that is to develop an “outside-in” perspective by looking at a church’s programs, facilities, and personnel as an outsider would. Our temptation is to evaluate the needs of our community from an “inside-out” perspective, which is hazardous to the future health and vitality of the church. An outside-in approach can help us avoid becoming painfully out of touch with the needs of the culture.

If church leaders don’t address the changing world, what was once a vital church will become, within a generation, the equivalent of a religious historical society. We will meet to preserve the past, not to alter the future.

Unresolved Conflict, Unaddressed Sin

The captain of the Titanic refused to believe the ship was in trouble till water was ankle deep in the mail room. Only then was it apparent the multi-layered hull had been pierced, and the unsinkable ship was going to sink. Ships that could have arrived before the great ocean liner went down weren’t summoned until it was too late.

Often there has been water in the mail room of a church for some time, but no one has been willing to acknowledge what it means. Perhaps a feud between families in the congregation has been brewing for months, but the pastor doesn’t feel his position is secure enough to get involved. Attendance, giving, and visitor trends have all been headed down for several years, but no one wants to admit the church is hurting. Or, there has been a secret liaison going on between a man and a woman on the music committee, but no one wants to handle the potentially explosive issue.

These and a host of other situations occur in churches in one form or another all the time. But for a variety of reasons-fear, uncertainty of what to do-these problems are left unaddressed.

A pastor friend once learned that money from the benevolent fund was going to make alimony payments for one of the church members. Word of this had filtered out, and many in the congregation felt it was an inappropriate use of the fund. As a result, contributions to the fund dried up. But no one was willing to discuss the issue. The life and resources drained from a worthwhile program.

Churches and church leaders that are unwilling to deal with moral, ethical, or financial misconduct in the church pay an enormous price in the loss of energy and motivation that inevitably occurs.

The corrective, of course, is wise and courageous confrontation of sin and conflict. It’s wonderful when revival sweeps a church and the ugly problems of sin and conflict seem to resolve themselves in an entirely supernatural fashion. But that’s more the exception than the rule. In the midst of unresolved sin or conflict, more often than not, someone has to take on the difficult and thankless task of confrontation before things get noticeably better.

Sometimes it’s tough to get people to help with this task. On one occasion, an elder knew he would be involved in confronting a friend. Rather than do that, he slipped his resignation under the pastor’s door, stopped coming to church, and was never seen on the premises again. The heat in the kitchen had sent him out for fast food permanently.

But instructions for church discipline and confrontation appear in the same New Testament epistles that call for love and forbearance. The truth is that only tough love will resolve some issues that slowly hemorrhage the life from churches for years or decades.

I grew up in a church that was racially mixed long before it was acceptable. In fact, it was a source of bitter dispute in those days. Hundreds left because it was feared certain minority groups would take over.

It was not until the last of such opposition left that the new church was born. But from that point onward, a 90-year-old church took on the zest and enthusiasm of a new church plant. The long and sometimes acrimonious board meetings, the whisper campaigns, and the not-so-veiled threats to take the money and go elsewhere finally ended. When it did, the survivors watched as the church blossomed and was given a new life.

So the principle that some conflict must be escalated in order to resolve it can be true as a church struggles to gain new purpose and direction. It’s no one’s first choice, but at times it’s the only viable option left when a church finds itself adrift because of long-standing conflict or hidden sin.

Unrewarded Effort

A friend of mine as a child once painted his entire backyard fence during the heat of the summer. For his efforts his parents gave him a dime. Sometimes that also happens in the church. People in the various ministries give and give, year after year, and receive little or no recognition for doing so. The burn-out rate in such settings stands alarmingly high.

This is particularly true in settings with an entrepreneurial leadership style. Launch one new ministry, and the attention turns to beginning another. Those in charge of making the program work are left to carry on alone. The excitement of the program fades into dull routine and weekly effort.

While the ministry itself may be effective, the sense of significance is gone because the leaders are wrapped up in new interests. The result: diligent workers are given the impression their sacrifice of time and energy is no longer important.

I’m well aware that our reward is in heaven, and our workers should seek the praise of God rather than men. But expressing appreciation for a job well done is also part of Christian virtue.

When we forget, we end up going through volunteers like aluminum soda cans in a college dorm. And with such a disposable attitude, often motivation and involvement are discarded as well.

But as important as it is to recognize and appreciate people’s efforts, the even more significant strategy is to help people discover they can make a difference.

There is nothing more discouraging than feeling your work doesn’t matter. One of the more cruel punishments inflicted on prisoners during World War II was to assign them to dig holes each day and then to fill them in at quitting time. That devastating psychological tactic cost many an individual his sanity and will to live.

Sadly, some people in church also arrive at the conclusion that their work is meaningless, an exercise in futility. They lose the will to try because they’ve lost the hope of making a difference.

During one pastorate, I visited a family that had left the church years earlier in anger but was still on the membership list. When I knocked, I was invited in, but it was clear their feelings toward the church were mixed at best. They spoke of how they had been unappreciated at the church and never intended to come back.

Not long afterward, the husband was diagnosed with brain cancer. It was a shock to everyone. He died within three months. I conducted the funeral, and in the follow-up counseling, I suggested to the widow that she get involved in the church’s ministry to the poor of our neighborhood.

With some hesitation, she agreed. Each Tuesday morning we handed out clothing to approximately one hundred people. Many were street indigents, bag ladies, and homeless families. Her job was to bring cookies and serve coffee to the people as they searched for clothing.

Though I knew the experience would help, the extent of her transformation amazed me. Her disappointment and hurt melted away week by week as she served coffee and cookies and helped distribute clothes. Instead of the painful memories of how the church had failed her, she was filled with the joy of knowing she was making a difference in people’s lives.

The same is true for a church. Years of anger, frustration, and hurt can be healed by helping others with needs. It’s hard to feel aimless when you see God at work through what you’re doing.

Cures You Can’t Control

Perhaps none of these cause a particular church’s doldrums. Even when the cause remains unidentified, a number of cures can revive sagging spirits. Some might surprise you.

A churchwide crisis. The noted English satirist Samuel Johnson once said something to the effect that nothing clears your mind as effectively as the prospect of being hanged.

The same may be said of churches. Either an imminent or a present crisis can galvanize members into working as a committed and concerned group of believers once more.

In a church I once served, an elder’s son died in his sleep while the man’s hospitalized daughter was fighting for her life with a deadly viral disease. After the funeral, the entire church took on a spiritual seriousness that remained evident years later.

Often a lawsuit will accomplish the same mobilization of the troops. Or a building fire. I listened in amazement as a fellow pastor told how he’d planned to preach from Peter on the refining fire of God’s work in our lives. The same week their new church building, only days from completion, burned to the ground. You can imagine how seriously the folks listened to his sermon the next Sunday.

The point, however, is that sometimes difficult and adverse circ*mstances can stir people to action. Adverse circ*mstances can become the opportunity for the people to search their hearts and recommit themselves to serving Christ in that church.

We obviously can’t control such crises, but we can be alert to the ways they affect a church.

Likewise, there’s a second uncontrollable remedy for congregational doldrums: a profound spiritual experience in key leaders.

There is no question as to the most sudden and dramatic change I ever witnessed in a congregation. I had been given two churches to serve part-time as I completed seminary. Each weekend I’d drive 125 miles to a farming community north of the Ohio River.

The smaller church was about to celebrate its centennial. It was a lovely group-kind, hardworking, and faithful to attend the old frame church with its well-worn pews and slightly out-of-tune piano.

But many of the men felt only a cultural obligation to church or attended because their wives coaxed them. In rural life, you don’t pry into one another’s lives much, and things tend to remain as they have been throughout the years. But this church was about to be stood on its head, and me with it.

I had invited a professor from school to hold a weekend of meetings, which they referred to as a revival. It was actually as predictable as Veterans Day, and all that was meant by the term was an extra service on Friday and Saturday night. A Kleenex box was placed dutifully at the altar, just as it was every year for the one or two souls who might respond, but it had been years since anyone did.

The first night when the sermon was over, I thanked the speaker and dismissed the people. Usually such a benediction brought a stampede toward the door. That night no one moved. I got up and assured the people that everyone could leave now, that we were finished for the night. Not a person stirred. I turned in somewhat awkward amazement to the guest speaker. What do you do when people won’t leave the church, even when you ask them to?

The old professor and I walked through the pews praying with people as they requested it. Something powerful was at work.

The next night the same thing happened. No one left following the benediction. We prayed with more people. It seemed something much larger than we had ever imagined was stirring.

We were right. A few weeks later, a farmer knocked at our door during supper. He was an ex-Marine with a reputation for being tightfisted and just plain mean. He was crying, holding an old Bible in his hands. Soon it was not uncommon to see many of the hard-shell cases weeping in church on Sunday mornings. The Spirit of God was at work, and no one knew why or how.

For the first time in half a century, the church started to fill up again, and a new education wing was added. I felt much like an observer in a rowboat as a tidal wave crashed over us. In all the years the professor had been traveling and speaking, he’d never seen anything like this either, he confessed.

Churches can be restored to life and health without warning when the Holy Spirit chooses to act in a powerful way. While we cannot depend on this to be the norm, we cannot rule it out, either. I learned a lesson in that rural church about how big God was and how little I was.

What You Can Do

We’ve mentioned a number of things already that we can do to bring life back to a drifting congregation: reconnecting the church’s ministry to the community’s needs, courageously and lovingly addressing unresolved conflict and sin, taking time to recognize the efforts of church members and to help them see that their work makes a difference in the lives of others.

But by far the most important action we can take is persistent prayer.

Collegians have a term for their fellow students who exhibit study habits above and beyond the call of duty: Black and Deckers. The term refers to a line of solid-steel tools that often set the industry standard for durability and toughness.

Churches reawakened after years of slumbering apathy and ineffectiveness invariably have been influenced by people that qualify as “Black and Deckers” in their own right. They have prayed without ceasing for years on end. Intercession of this type differs from the brief invocation mumbled at the beginning of a board meeting or before taking an offering. This type of prayer continues for years and sometimes for decades, not infrequently occurring early in the morning or late at night.

The results may be years in coming. That’s why so few people actually exercise this ministry in a given church. The patience, the faith, and the persistence it takes quickly thins out the ranks.

Yet, because God in his sovereignty seems to allot every church a Black and Decker or two-and possibly more-the hope remains for a spiritual breakthrough.

I’ve known such people of prayer. In general they aren’t critical souls; they tend to save their complaints for the Throne of Heaven, where they pour out their concerns. They don’t advertise their ministry; it’s far too private and important to discuss on a casual basis. Rather, they tend to be discerning individuals who can assess the needs of any given situation with little outside input. Perhaps it’s their gift of discernment that makes their prayer so powerful.

In each of my last two churches, after going through times of churchwide difficulty, I later learned that two or three individuals had been praying, in some cases for years, that we would address the problems that were sapping our motivation. Their persistent prayer for renewal was eventually answered.

When all is said and done, it is prayer that changes churches and events. But again, this isn’t quick and easy prayer. No, this type of prayer is so difficult and so worthwhile that at times it even hurts. But the results speak for themselves.

Shortly after the death of Franklin Roosevelt in 1945, a newspaper columnist observed the irony of the late president’s influence on the nation. Though he himself never fully recovered the use of his legs after his bout with polio, and though he spent much of his adult life in a wheel chair, it was FDR who taught a crippled nation how to walk again. Thrust into the presidency during the darkest days of the Depression, he inspired hope and vision in a nation immobilized by despair and pessimism.

Pastors, too, even when themselves somewhat infirm, can help congregations crippled by apathy and malaise of spirit not only to walk again, but to run. It’s not easy, and it requires both the wind of God’s Spirit and a crew that keeps the sails trimmed, but it can be done.

Copyright © 1989 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Prixel Creative / Lightstock

Many pastors identify with the old story about the minister who daily went down to the tracks at the center of town and cheered uproariously as the train steamed past, because it was "the one thing I don't have to push." Wearied from pushing and prodding and imparting commitment to ho-hum programs and parishioners, pastors relish the idea of something that makes progress by itself.

Lloyd John Ogilvie has led several churches, small and large, easy and difficult, appreciative and demanding. For the last seventeen years, he has been pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Hollywood (California).

Yet after many seasons of ministry, his commitment to his Savior and the church have remained at full throttle-or even accelerated. Today he writes books, edits the Communicator's Commentary series, appears weekly in the "Let God Love You" television program, speaks at evangelistic events, and manages to pastor an active church as concerned with the runaway teen as with the up-and-outer.

LEADERSHIP editors Marshall Shelley and Jim Berkley recently visited him to discuss how he keeps such a holy head of steam.

As we listen to pastors, we hear over and over how congregational apathy irks them. What is it about spiritual listlessness that so bothers pastors?

Many pastors are Type-A personalities; they're racehorses. They've found a great deal of their identity in activity, advancement, production. Therefore, it's abhorrent for them to be a part of a plateaued institution or one holding back.

Also, for pastors to be effective, they must have a burning conviction about what God wants to happen in their churches and in people's lives, a clear vision as to what the church ought to be. But it's never there. So learning to live with what is, and continually moving forward to the vision, is a challenge.

You preach to nearly three thousand a Sunday, but realistically only a percentage could be labeled truly committed Christians. What percentage would that be?

It would be difficult to estimate, but that's the edge we're working on all the time. One of our major emphases is to call all our people into ministry. We believe that to be in Christ is to be in ministry, to be actively involved in sharing one's faith and alleviating the needs and suffering of society. Every member of the congregation should evaluate personal commitment by saying, If the congregation were a multiplication of my commitment, what kind of a church would it be?

At one time, church attendance was practically mandatory in many communities, but now it's not exactly "the thing to do." Given the prevailing culture, is this more "voluntary" attendance a good thing for the church?

I think so. As a downtown, cathedral-type church, we have many visitors, people who are searching for God, hungry for fellowship. There's a whole new breed out there. Many who come want to hear the Scriptures preached and to respond by applying their faith. They want to work to solve the needs of their families and communities. Yes, America is a largely unchurched culture, but the opportunities have never been greater.

How about the uncommitted Christians within the church?

They're a wonderful challenge. I preach to a procession: church members who need a fresh touch of the power of God, people who don't know God and aren't part of any church, Christians who've just come to visit, and others who are facing perplexing problems.

At the end of our Sunday morning services, an invitation is given for people to come forward to the chancel to pray with the elders and pastors. Each week, many respond-some to receive Christ as Savior and Lord, others to experience his healing and hope for physical, emotional, and interpersonal needs.

My big challenge is to present the gospel in a way that will be an initial invitation to those who don't know Christ and an encouragement to those who do and who need to get on with the responsibilities of discipleship.

One of the great challenges of our time is to communicate new life to religious people who don't know God. The institutional church in America is filled with religious people who desperately need an experience of the living, holy, gracious God. And that's what keeps me excited about the ministry, because I see God raiding the ranks of religious people, as well as those of secular people.

Probably the greatest areas of challenge for my people would be in their marriages and families, their work, their self-image, their future, and their failures and frustrations.

So I take those five areas and help people see some specific illustrations of what it's like to be faithful and obedient to the Lord in those areas.

I know a judge, for example, who gets down beside his chair in his private chambers to pray before he has to make a decision. Once when I was in his chambers, I saw beside his desk the beveled-out places where his knees have been over the years. There's a man who is committed.

There's nothing more exciting than helping another person become a Christian-except helping that person into an exhilarating experience of discipleship.

It's good to focus on the positive side, but isn't this "procession" you preach to ever discouraging? What does it do to you to stand up, do the best job you can of communicating God's truth, and yet recognize that lack of commitment still infects a good number of people?

It's helpful to keep in touch with my own humanity and to recognize that I too talk a lot more than I do. I preach beyond what I am able to live. That gives me a sense of empathy and understanding with people who hear a lot more than they are able to perform, or are admonished to do more than they actually enact.

Starting from the level ground beneath the Cross-acknowledging that we all are human and hold the treasure of the gospel in earthen vessels-I can be a much more creative motivator and actually talk about the distance between what we are and what we do.

My identification with people frees them to take the first step. When I see them not as recalcitrant children but as needy people who long to grow, I then have the ability to begin to touch their lives with Christ and help them bring themselves out of apathy.

You're still talking about the positive aspects. What about the stragglers in the procession, people who come for the show, expecting a spiritual pep pill, but who give very little of themselves. How do you handle the reality of that crowd?

Every pastor has a number of people who cause frustrations and difficulties. It would be dishonest to suggest that this is not true of any church. However, if you concentrate on those people and build your life around them, you lose the great number of people who are ready to move ahead. So I focus on the people who are ready to respond, who obviously are on the edge of committing their lives to Christ or getting into active ministry.

How do you understand the needs of those ready to respond?

Each summer on my month of study leave, I take a trunkload of cards, letters, and survey-response data. I spend the first week listening to what God is saying to me through those deepest needs and urgent questions. I take them one at a time, read them, pray over them, and ask God how to respond to them. Then I search for the Scripture passages that speak directly to those needs and use those texts as part of my preaching guide for the year ahead.

What effect does this have on you personally?

It gives me a deep sense of awe and wonder that God would give me the privilege of listening to people. But I also hurt with them. I ache over their suffering and empathize with them in their quest for God.

Christians are burning out in great numbers because they've not discovered the way to stay alive in the resources of the Spirit of Christ rather than through their own energy.

Some people feel a lack of enough strength and energy to do all they are called to do. Usually that means they're attempting to do some things God hasn't called them to do.

As I understand it, our will, done on our own strength, is humanism. Christ's will, done on our own strength, is religion. And his will, done by his power, is the abundant life. And there's a great difference. That's the pastor's challenge.

Do people discover the abundant life by sitting in church? Even listening to great sermons?

When people hear the gospel week after week without implementing it in their lives, that eventually causes a spiritual putrefaction in the soul. Often people come to church, hear the good news, pray courageous prayers (or hear them prayed by their pastor), are stirred by great music, and then aren't given the tools and the directions to implement their beliefs in their ministry in the world.

I want to give my people ways to be committed.

Such as?

We call people to four basic commitments:

First, an unreserved commitment to Christ.

Second, a commitment to seek an unlimited infilling of his Spirit of power.

Third, a commitment to personal ministry of evangelism.

Fourth, a commitment to be involved in at least one of the major crises in our community. That may be anything from runaway children, to the homeless, to those facing poverty and hunger.

How do you begin to call a church to commitment?

Commitment has to begin with the church officers. They can lead the church no further nor any deeper than they have gone themselves. A church of committed people must begin in the fellowship of the church officers. If you call all your people into ministry, you need officers who are ministering and who out of the joy of their own experience want every member of the congregation to get moving.

We changed the title of our missions department, for example, to "mission and deployment" because missions had the connotation of sending other people to do the work, whereas deployment means we're to be involved. One Sunday we gave a call for missions involvement, and over three hundred people made a commitment to their ministry. It's that deployment we're looking for . . . from every member.

How do you fan the flames of this kind of ministry?

We try to provide a lay witness opportunity in every worship service. Someone living out his or her faith in a particular area talks about what Christ is doing in his or her life. This reflects the pattern of the early church when the elder would ask the gathered Christians, "What evidence do you have that Christ is alive?" and the people would tell how Christ worked in their lives the previous week. We've included people making a difference in the movie industry, people from education and medicine, people who have become involved in caring for people in need. This helps call people to personal ministry.

We've talked so far about the institutional Lloyd Ogilvie. Let's turn more towards the personal side. Where does spiritual tedium show up in your walk?

In the heavy schedule I carry-keeping it all together and not overscheduling so that I lose time for prayer and study and rest. My biggest challenge is maintaining a balanced life.

Every single week certain tasks have to be done. I need at least two days for study. I need a full day to do administration. I need to spend time planning.

When I agree to do too many things and begin to feel I just can't make it, I finally have to exercise the freedom to step back and cancel some things in order to do with some measure of excellence what is absolutely necessary.

Do you distinguish between physical and emotional fatigue?

I try not to confuse them, because they are different. Basically, I know what's required for me to stay physically resilient. I have to get adequate rest and exercise every day. I have to eat right. Neglect in any of these areas makes me feel physically exhausted.

Emotional exhaustion, however, affects the physical profoundly. Unresolved tensions, unfinished tasks, things that I'm feeling inside that I haven't been able to express outside, cause emotional exhaustion. I take an inventory every day and usually a longer one each week to be sure I'm not burying feelings or entering into what I call "the dishonesty of duality"-being one thing inside and another thing outside.

Anytime I begin to pretend I'm something on the outside that's lacking on the inside there's turmoil, which takes so much energy-emotional and physical-that it's very draining.

What's an emotional inventory?

I keep a little tartan-covered book. It's a bound book, but the sheets are plain. When I start the day, I list the things I need to commit to the Lord. That means I keep a record of how I'm doing in response to the Lord and what he's telling me about those specific needs.

The next day when I open the book, I look back and see how I've done. After a week, I have a longer viewpoint. It's interesting to look back over a month and realize what the Lord has done with certain problems and what still is unresolved and needs to be done.

Do any of the entries remain the same week after week?

Of course. I'm called to live with patience as well as with results.

The book also helps me outline the things I need to do to be faithful and obedient to Christ. I keep short accounts in my relationships so that nothing is carried over on the ledger of resentment or hurt for any period of time.

I need a daily commitment to the Lord. The only way I can endure the immense pressure of unresolved tensions and problems that resist solution is to commit it to him on a daily basis. Then I see him begin to work in wonderful ways, sometimes radical, shocking, disturbing ways.

How do you keep discouragement at bay?

I first try to identify the discouragement. If I can't do that alone, I get with a friend, one of my covenant brothers and sisters with whom I meet consistently, and talk until I can get to the cause. So often we deal with generalized frustration and exhaustion rather than getting to the core of it.

Once the cause is identified, I can commit it to God and trust him to give the discernment necessary to solve the problem. Then I can take the steps that need to be taken. For me, to identify some creative remedy and then try it often breaks the bind.

Some problems resist solution, and we have to face that. It's then that we're to wait for the Lord's timing. So I'm not suggesting that if I wake up with a problem on my heart, it's always gone by the end of that day if I surrender it to God. I've carried some problems for weeks and months, but every day I've had to come back to the place of letting go and telling our Lord that I trust him.

In every church I've served, there have been points at which I had to surrender the future of that ministry to the Lord. God used the tensions and frustrations of ministry to help me commit my ministry to him. That's happened over and over again.

Those are internal strategies. Do you have any external resources to keep you going?

I couldn't make it if I didn't have sources of encouragement to help me deal with frustrations.

I'm part of a covenant group of local pastors. We meet regularly, and each of us is given time to discuss current needs, fears, and hopes. We usually conclude with the question, "If you knew you couldn't fail, what would you do next to glorify the Lord?" And then we pray for each other.

In one of the first churches I served, one Sunday morning I was out of power. I really needed strength and felt discouraged. I got up early and took a walk. In the village park, I saw another pastor, and I said, "What are you doing here?"

He said, "I'm out of power. And I can't preach."

I told him I was feeling the same thing, and so we talked about what might have caused it: busyness, need for more time in the Word, perhaps some unresolved tensions in our personal lives, challenges in our church that were beyond us.

Finally we said, "Why don't we pray for each other right now?" I got down on my knees, and he put his hands on me and prayed for me. Then I prayed for him. I skipped off and led two services, and so did he.

He called me later and asked, "Lloyd, how did it go?"

I said, "I had the best morning since I began the ministry."

"So did I," he said. So we began meeting together, and then we called in others. Eventually we met every Tuesday morning.

Later a woman came out of my church one Sunday and said, "I'm leaving this church. It's too personal. You have no right to apply the gospel to my personal needs. I'm going to another church."

I told her, "Well, I'm very sorry that you're upset, but God bless you; I pray that you'll find a church you both need and want."

Six weeks later she came back and said, "I've been to every church in this community and they're all saying the same thing!"

The reason was that the pastors were all meeting together to pray and strategize for revival in that city. No wonder she heard the same thing, because we were on our knees together every week.

How much do you lean on others at your church?

I really depend on the leadership team at our church. An important part of our meetings is the sharing of our needs. I feel I must lead the way, since my vulnerability will give permission to others to be honest. Often, I'll open our sharing with a confession of need or a problem I'm facing. After someone has shared, we pray for him or her.

We maximize the joys together, too, and that's important to keep one's enthusiasm alive. The test of friendship is that you can share the great things that have happened as well as the frustrating ones. Lots of people are happy to share your failures with you, but it takes a great friend to listen to victories and say, "Isn't that wonderful? Let's rejoice together." I have a team that shares the ups and downs.

Prayer and discussion groups have always been a great source of help for me. As a freshman at Lake Forest College in Illinois, I was born into Christ in fellowship. The two people who introduced me to Christ were Bruce Larson and Ralph Osborne-two great leaders of our time. They took time with me, helped me to know Christ, and launched me in the first steps of the Christian life in a small group with them.

I couldn't handle the demands I have on me if it weren't for a healing center of fellowship in which I can be absolutely open and honest, be loved and challenged, and then be prayed for as a brother. If I ever get impatient or negative, it's probably because I haven't been in consistent fellowship with others. And I'm not talking about sloppy camaraderie where everybody agrees and pats each other on the back, but a fellowship where a stiff wind of challenge blows, a bracing accountability.

One summer in Scotland you were tried sorely by an accident. Tell us what happened and how that experience has affected your ministry.

While hiking alone, I crushed my left leg in a bad fall. I had to drag myself nearly three hours to get to a road, where miraculously I was found and taken to a hospital. Eventually I was flown back to the United States for surgery.

The most profound result was that I discovered God in pain. Throughout my ministry, I've prayed for people's healing and have worked to create opportunities for people to be healed by the Spirit of God. Miraculous things have happened.

But there I was, stretched out in bed in excruciating pain, and praying didn't make the pain go away. So I began to ask God how to find him in the midst of the pain and not only as the alleviator of pain. He answered that prayer. Some of the times of deepest pain and anguish were periods of closest fellowship with him. That put me in deeper touch with people who suffer.

In addition, probably the most creative part of the accident was that for the first time in my life, I was taken off the fast track for a brief time. I discovered most of my security and identity was in what I accomplished for God-preaching sermons, writing books, leading a church, being part of a media ministry. All of this identified my worth.

Well, what can you do when there's nothing to do but wait for healing? For three months I could put no weight on my leg, and even when I could get out of bed, I had to use crutches. When I took my first steps, I had to depend on a cane.

During that difficult convalescence, I discovered in a new way that God loves me not for what I do but simply because I belong to him. That liberating conclusion has transformed my attitude toward life's pressures and difficulties. I don't have to write books, do television, and lead a church to be loved by God.

Doesn't that seem simple? Why didn't I learn that twenty-five years ago? Well, that's one of the hard things for a Type-A achiever to experience.

During my recuperation, I read a speech given by Henri Nouwen. He'd left his career at Harvard to work in Canada at Day Spring, a care center for the critically ill. He, along with several others, was assigned to care for a little boy named Adam who had epilepsy. One day while calming Adam after an epileptic seizure, Henri looked at him and thought, God loves Adam as much as he loves Henri Nouwen, and there's nothing Adam can do to be loved by God. God loves Adam just as he is. That was a liberating experience of peace for Nouwen.

So my experience has changed me. I feel much more sensitive to people-more in touch with their feelings, more patient-because I've had to be patient with myself. Previously I thought of myself as a big giver and a stingy receiver, but I learned through this experience to admit how much I need the Lord and other people. I'm learning how to share my needs and be ministered to as well as to minister.

That's why I say everything that happens to us furthers what God wants to happen through us!

Copyright © 1989 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Here are eight areas a church must address to transform committees into caring communities. I’d start with the governing board and then apply the steps to each committee.

1. Deciding who serves. It’s a bad idea to put old Joe on your elder board because he needs to get more involved, or let Gertrude chair the deaconesses because her family makes hefty financial contributions.

Choosing leaders already involved in ministry is one clear biblical priority. When deciding who serves is based on commitment to ministry, faith, a clear job description, and an understanding of what really needs to be done, a committee structure can become a support base and a network of mission communities.

2. Recruiting honestly. I know a college board member who was recruited under the premise: “It won’t take any of your time; you don’t even have to come to meetings. We’re just proud to have you on our board.” What kind of quality can you expect from a board with that view of itself?

An executive I know accepted a position after being told his main task was to encourage people. After taking the job, he learned the institution was bankrupt; his real job was to solve its financial problems. Since that wasn’t what he signed up for, he has little motivation for his work.

As pastors, we want to teach people how to discern God’s will and hear his calling. When they respond freely and in faith, they will be excited about their ministry. This means being straightforward about the costs. It means giving people a chance to pray, discuss matters, and have the freedom to say no without jeopardizing our friendship or approval.

If we expect someone to put out extra effort in September, we tell them. If training and special events are involved, as they should be, we say, “If you’re going to take this on, we expect all new elders to participate in a four-week training experience and an annual retreat the first weekend of December. If you cannot do that, maybe this isn’t your year to become an elder.” It’s not fair to coax a yes and then up the ante.

3. Setting the tone. The first training experience is crucial because it establishes your group’s community-building tools and ministry tasks. In my last church, this training session began with everyone sharing his or her faith journey. Every session after that began with a question to open up relationships. This sets a precedent: “As we work together, we want to care for each other. Bring your whole self to the party.” The leader, of all people, must model this openness and care.

At one Christian education meeting, I asked, “What was your experience in Christian education, if you grew up in the church, and how did you respond to it?” I learned more about the viewpoints, prejudices, and concerns that made up that committee than I ever did from heated committee speeches. I learned why people were impassioned about certain matters. Most important, the group grew closer.

4. Holding a yearly retreat. It may take years to move from a voluntary retreat to a required one for leaders. The benefits, however, can be cumulative, with each year’s attendance and content improving as you build a history and sense of commitment.

One year we had ten elders retiring from the board. All ten asked if they could still come to the retreat! The question was no longer “How can I get out of this?” but “How can I be involved?”

Like the training sessions, the annual retreat should begin with sharing in small groups. One of my favorite questions is, What do you do on a Tuesday?

Move on to vision sharing led by a pastor or key leader. This can create energy and excitement as leaders grasp the overall picture of what God is calling them to.

The next step is evaluation. How did we do last year? How do we stack up to the vision? This provides a basis for the next stage, clarifying expectations and setting goals.

Just listing various positions and asking what we expect from each can be revolutionary. It clarifies who owns what and can create a shared sense of ownership, responsibility, and excitement about ministry.

5. Making meetings productive. Homes are the best committee meeting places. People behave differently in homes than on metal chairs in a sterile classroom. In a home, people treat each other with dignity. They relax. Some refreshments and a little sharing can infuse energy.

People often fear that relational exercises will make meetings longer. But if you give people fifteen minutes in groups of three or four with a focused question for each person to answer briefly, it can actually shorten meetings.

People have a need to be heard. A rule in building relationships is: Never let someone come to a meeting and say nothing. When people feel they’ve had their air time, they can focus on issues and are less likely to make inappropriate speeches later. They feel cared for, and with discipline the meeting actually can end earlier.

Discipline for me means no meeting goes past 9 P.M. I figure if you can’t solve it between 7:30 and 9:00, it isn’t worth pushing, because the quality of personal competence goes flat after that. Ending the formal meeting before people absolutely have to leave has a way of giving a group an extra shot of energy. They may sit around informally, share notes, touch base on projects, form strategies, and end up having spontaneous mini-meetings.

Remember the first hour of a meeting is your most productive. Don’t kill that energy by going straight into trivial reports and minutia. Ask yourself, What are the issues we most need to work on? After dealing with these issues, go to routine reports that require little creative energy and insight.

Giving a timed agenda is another secret to making meetings work. It says, “We have four things to discuss. We need about ten minutes for the first and twenty for each of the others.” When people know they have ten minutes on a subject, they behave differently than when they think they can talk for two hours. The key is to enforce the time limits. Anything that can’t fit a time frame gets referred to a subcommittee, assigned to an individual for research, or tabled for a future meeting.

6. “Spinning off” mission groups. Every committee runs into tasks that fall within its scope of responsibility but beyond its ability to tackle as a group. The answer is to form subcommittee task forces that can put in the extra time and energy.

If the church wants a new library, the education committee should appoint a library committee. The education committee should then do little more than set broad policy concerning the subcommittee’s assignment and monitor its progress.

Most committees should spin off at least two mission groups a year. These groups might work with intensity for three months or a year but then go out of existence once their tasks are complete. Each should maintain the priority on relationships modeled in the committee that formed it.

7. Using “expanded” committees. If the ministries of your committees are truly significant, you will want as many people involved as possible. Committees can function well with up to twelve people. If you know when to create subgroups (during sharing times, for example), and if everyone on the committee is recruited to a specific ministry, committees don’t have to stay small.

Expanding committees to include nonelders provides a context for nonelders to discover and use their spiritual gifts. This enables the church to assess people’s callings and creates a reservoir from which to recruit future elders.

8. Caring outside the meeting. If the only contact people have with each other is in meetings, they have yet to experience full community. It always surprises me how often long-standing church members don’t know each other’s names, addresses, phone numbers, and work places. Distributing this information to committee members is a first step, since church directories are usually sorely out of date.

I like to include birthdays and anniversaries on the list; then I send cards as a sign that I care. After all, the kind of caring we’re after begins with the examples of the leaders.

I’ve also asked people to list the ages of their children. This way they discover others with children the same age, which can prompt getting together for recreational activities. Soon people are praying for each other and meeting each other’s needs. All of this feeds into the quality of time when the committee meets next.

When we opened one committee meeting, Ken, an engineer, expressed concern about his daughter. His tone was matter of fact, but I knew this was a difficult thing for him to do. I prayed silently for someone to mention Ken during prayer, since I was the ordained pastor “expected to pray” for him. We prayed, and as I was about to close, someone finally prayed for Ken and his daughter by name. When we lifted our heads, tears streaked Ken’s cheeks, and he said, “I have just discovered what Christian community is all about.”

This is the kind of breakthrough we all look for in ministry-and it happened on a committee!

– Roberta Hestenes

Copyright © 1989 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

GOD’S OWNERSHIP

According to a January 15, 1989 article in the Lexington Herald-Leader, the family living in a home in West Palm Beach, Florida, told a film crew it was okay to use the front lawn as a set for an episode of the “B. L. Stryker” television series. They knew cars would be crashing violently in front of the house.

While the front yard was being blown up, the owner of the home was tipped off and called from New York demanding to know what was happening to his house. It seems the people who were living in the house were only tenants and had no right to allow the property to be destroyed as the cameras rolled.

Many times we live our lives under the mistaken impression that they belong to us. Paul tells us we were “bought with a price.” We must live as those who know God will call us to account for the ways we have used this life entrusted to us.

– Kevin S. Bidwell

Vanceburg, Kentucky

EVANGELISM

During one service I was complaining to the Lord about the lack of attendance: “Lord, attendance is just not what I’d like it to be.”

This was the Lord’s response: “My son, attendance is not what I’d like it to be in heaven.”

That was the last time I complained to the Lord about lack of attendance.

– Harvey Koelner

Fort Lauderdale, Florida

SEEKING GOD

Columnist Herb Caen wrote in the San Francisco Chronicle: “Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning a lion wakes up. It knows it must outrun the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death. It doesn’t matter whether you are a lion or a gazelle; when the sun comes up, you’d better be running.”

Spurgeon wrote likewise: “If you are not seeking the Lord, the Devil is seeking you. If you are not seeking the Lord, judgment is at your heels.”

In the Christian life, it’s not enough simply to wake up. We are called to run, to become more like Christ, to press ahead in godliness.

– Bill Effler

San Mateo, California

SERVICE

Don McCullough writes in Waking from the American Dream: “During World War II, England needed to increase its production of coal. Winston Churchill called together labor leaders to enlist their support. At the end of his presentation he asked them to picture in their minds a parade which he knew would be held in Picadilly Circus after the war. First, he said, would come the sailors who had kept the vital sea lanes open. Then would come the soldiers who had come home from Dunkirk and then gone on to defeat Rommel in Africa. Then would come the pilots who had driven the Luftwaffe from the sky.

“Last of all, he said, would come a long line of sweat-stained, soot-streaked men in miner’s caps. Someone would cry from the crowd, ‘And where were you during the critical days of our struggle?’ And from ten thousand throats would come the answer, ‘We were deep in the earth with our faces to the coal.'”

Not all the jobs in a church are prominent and glamorous. But it is often the people with their “faces to the coal” who help the church accomplish its mission.

THE BIBLE

A former park ranger at Yellowstone National Park tells the story of a ranger leading a group of hikers to a fire lookout. The ranger was so intent on telling the hikers about the flowers and animals that he considered the messages on his two-way radio distracting, so he switched it off. Nearing the tower, the ranger was met by a nearly breathless lookout, who asked why he hadn’t responded to the messages on his radio. A grizzly bear had been seen stalking the group, and the authorities were trying to warn them of the danger.

Any time we tune out the messages God has sent us, we put at peril not only ourselves, but also those around us. How important it is that we never turn off God’s saving communication!

– Harold M. Wiest

Dawson Creek

British Columbia, Canada

CHRISTIAN LIVING

Pastor Mark Thompson of Faribault, Minnesota, suffered terrible knife wounds from an assailant in his home, in October 1988. One of the many consequences of his difficult recovery was being forced to miss watching his son Chris run in the state cross-country championship meet. Pastor Thompson commissioned his brother Merv to go in his stead.

According to the account in the St. Paul Pioneer Press & Dispatch, Mark told his brother, “I can’t be there to see Chris run. So I want you there at the beginning of the race. Holler a lot. . . . Then at the end, I want you to really cheer loudly. And I want you to make your voice sound like mine.”

Merv heeded the advice, and Chris ran a strong race, finishing second. Merv, also a pastor, discerned the theological truth in the story. “That’s what Jesus wants us to do,” he said. “Make your voice sound like mine.”

SPIRITUAL STRENGTH

Awhile back on “The Merv Griffin Show,” the guest was a body builder. During the interview, Merv asked, “Why do you develop those particular muscles?”

The body builder simply stepped forward and flexed a series of well-defined muscles from chest to calf. The audience applauded.

“What do you use all those muscles for?” Merv asked. Again, the muscular specimen flexed, and biceps and triceps sprouted to impressive proportions.

“But what do you use those muscles for?” Merv persisted. The body builder was bewildered. He didn’t have an answer other than to display his well-developed frame.

I was reminded that our spiritual exercises-Bible study, prayer, reading Christian books, listening to Christian radio and tapes-are also for a purpose. They’re meant to strengthen our ability to build God’s kingdom, not simply to improve our pose before an admiring audience.

– Gary Gulbranson

Glen Ellyn, Illinois

APPEARANCES

A friend who lives in a forested area found his home overrun with mice-too many to exterminate with traps. So he bought a few boxes of D-Con and distributed them around the house, including one under his bed. That night he couldn’t believe his ears; below him was a feeding frenzy.

In the morning he checked the box and found it licked clean.

Just to make sure the plan worked, he bought and placed another box. Again, the mice went for the flavored poison like piranha.

But the tasty and popular nighttime snack did its deadly work. In the days that followed, all was quiet. Just because something is popular doesn’t mean it’s good for you. It can be deadly-like sin.

– Craig Brian Larson

Arlington Heights, Illinois

PROBLEMS

One of the classic baseball television shots comes from the 1975 World Series, in which NBC captured Carlton Fisk, jumping up and down, waving his arms, trying to coax his hit to stay fair. It did-for a home run. That colorful close-up would have been missed had the cameraman followed the ball with his camera, as was his responsibility. But the cameraman inside the Fenway Park scoreboard had one eye on a rat that was circling him. So instead of focusing the camera on the ball, he left it on Fisk.

Sometimes we encounter problems like that rat. We have no idea how they will be resolved, but because of them, we may see God work in a way we never would have without the problems.

– Richard C. Kauffman, Jr.

Tionesta, Pennsylvania

TRADITIONS

William Poteet wrote in The Pentecostal Minister how in 1903 the Russian czar noticed a sentry posted for no apparent reason on the Kremlin grounds. Upon inquiry, he discovered that in 1776 Catherine the Great found there the first flower of spring. “Post a sentry here,” she commanded, “so that no one tramples that flower under foot!”

Some traditions die hard.

PERSEVERANCE

John Killinger retells this story from Atlantic Monthly about the days of the great western cattle ranches:

“A little burro sometimes would be harnessed to a wild steed. Bucking and raging, convulsing like drunken sailors, the two would be turned loose like Laurel and Hardy to proceed out onto the desert range. They could be seen disappearing over the horizon, the great steed dragging that little burro along and throwing him about like a bag of cream puffs. They might be gone for days, but eventually they would come back. The little burro would be seen first, trotting back across the horizon, leading the submissive steed in tow. Somewhere out there on the rim of the world, that steed would become exhausted from trying to get rid of the burro, and in that moment, the burro would take mastery and become the leader.

“And that’s the way it is with the kingdom and its heroes, isn’t it? The battle is to the determined, not to the outraged; to the committed, not to those who are merely dramatic.”

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To Illustrate . . .

LEADERSHIP

465 Gundersen Drive

Carol Stream, IL 60188

42 Summer LEADERSHIP/89

Copyright © 1989 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Just out of seminary, my concept of ministry wasn’t, I suspect, all that unusual. Real ministry, I believed, happens in the pulpit, in the prayer meeting, on the doorstep of the unconverted. Real ministry is overflowing sanctuaries, published books, and “a presence” in the city. Real ministry requires imaginative and bold leadership. Real ministry is dynamic, energetic, and vital.

And then there is committee work-not exactly ministry, but sort of. After all, someone has to assign Communion servers, delegate the pulling of weeds, budget for crayons and glue, and decide who will bring hot dogs to the all-church picnic.

As for me and my ministry, however, I will serve in greater courts. I will make a name for myself . . . er, I mean, for our church . . . I mean, for the Lord. Yes, for the Lord.

Escaping committees

One of my first ministry goals, then, was to escape committee meetings, not an easy task upon first arriving at a church. Lay people, who spend a lot of time in committees, have an odd notion that what they do is important to the church. They call a pastor, in fact, to help them do their important work better. So I couldn’t let them know how I really felt.

But I could eagerly tell them I affirmed the ministry of the laity (meaning I wanted to get on to more significant things), I trusted them to do their work (meaning anybody could do that work), and I needed to be concerned about the big picture (meaning their job was to worry about petty details). For some reason they remained unconvinced and kept insisting that I be at their meetings.

So I tried a new tack. I pointed out that I couldn’t spend so many evenings away from my family. Surely ministry shouldn’t mean widowing one’s wife and abandoning one’s children. Expressed with subtle self-pity, it worked. They agreed to schedule all committee meetings on Monday or Tuesday nights to free the rest of my weeknights for my family-a partial victory.

And it prepared the way for my ultimate victory. Since two evenings a week away from my hearth was the new standard, I pressed home a new argument: I needed to call on people, and most of them worked in the daytime. Which was more important, calling or committees? At that, they waved the white flag, albeit unenthusiastically. I attended few committee meetings after that.

Ten years out of seminary, I’m the one waving the white flag.

I’ve discovered real ministry happens in committees as well as outside them. No, I’m not brain dead. I still acknowledge that committees can be dull and overly concerned with the minuscule. But I’ve come to see how vital they are for our entire ministry-and not only for those necessary details.

Here’s how I believe my involvement in committee work helps the ministry of our church.

Maintaining ministry momentum

When I don’t attend committees, decision making, which usually proceeds at the pace of the proverbial turtle, slows to the pace of a pet rock.

That’s because committees hesitate to plan programs, raise money, or take action until they check with the pastor. The quickest way to see if April 13 can be scheduled as a work day is to ask the person who knows the church calendar best: the pastor. Furthermore, most congregations hesitate to proceed with new ideas if their pastor has some moral or administrative objection, which I might if April 13 were Good Friday. We can weigh the desirability of such attitudes, but for most churches, especially small to medium ones, the pastor is integral to most decisions.

Consequently, when I don’t attend committees, every decision is slowed by a month. When every new idea must plod through this tortuous process, we shut off committee spontaneity and enthusiasm. Building momentum is impossible.

Affirming the laity

Again, we may question the theology of this attitude, but it prevails: When a pastor attends a church function, it raises the status of the function, the morale of the leaders, and often the attendance.

Our choir had been struggling to get eight to ten members out to Thursday rehearsals. When one of the two tenors was confined to bed for two months, I offered my voice box to our discouraged choir director. I intended only to beef up the tenor section. But as I regularly attended rehearsals, I noticed choir members did so more regularly themselves. Now, it’s unusual not to have a full choir at rehearsal.

I’ve also seen that phenomenon at work in committees. Even if a committee doesn’t need my input, many nights I attend simply to make a statement with my presence: This committee’s work is important.

Often, however, I go one step further. Periodically a committee ought to hear how I appreciate their regular sacrifice of nights at home, and how I admired their recent teacher workshop or whatever. Praise from the pulpit is important, but sometimes a brief expression of appreciation in a more intimate setting means more to the members.

Energizing the laity

Another simple but often unacknowledged fact of church life is this: The majority of committee chairpersons are not as creative or energetic as we might wish. Frankly, how could they be?

Most of our members work in the office or garage or in the home chasing three preschoolers. Some do all three! In addition, many take care of aging parents, or raise money for UNICEF, or sit on the local Young Life committee. Some retired members are so busy they wonder when they used to find time for work. On top of all that, some even find space in their schedules to give to church.

These faithful have never been seminary trained. They don’t get a paid study leave to attend church growth conferences. They seldom have time to read books on Christian ministry. It’s utopian, then, to expect the majority of the chairpersons to generate creative ideas and to muster the drive to push their ideas through the committee.

That’s not to deny the imaginative and bold leadership many chairpersons exhibit. But let’s face it: such leaders aren’t the norm. Most of the faithful need, and frankly want, inspiration and leadership from the pastor.

Attending committee meetings to offer my ideas and encourage bigger ideas can turn a church’s twenty-fifth anniversary after-church reception into a two-day celebration, and a youth car wash to raise $250 into a softball marathon that raises $2,500 for world hunger.

I can hardly take full credit for such examples-as my members will be quick to remind me. But as a general rule, bigger and better things are planned when I attend committee meetings.

Enhancing pastoral care

Committee meetings are not merely places where business gets dispatched; they’re also centers of Christian warmth. This is especially true of a small church.

I attended a workshop on managing the monthly meeting of Session (our board of elders). Suggestions included agreeing on agenda items, docketing items, sticking to the docket, and limiting extraneous discussion. In a flash I realized a Session meeting need not take more than two hours! My type-A personality was flushed with excitement as I left the workshop, silently vowing to implement the procedures at my next Session meeting.

In retrospect, I’m surprised my Session put up with such procedures for as long as they did. By the middle of the second meeting, they’d had enough. “Why do we have to be so scheduled, so businesslike?” complained one elder. “It makes the meeting feel so stiff that we can’t relax. I feel like I’m forbidden to talk about anything but business. What happened to the church family?”

In short, along with business they wanted a little fellowship. I had assumed they wanted the agenda kept to two hours. It turns out they don’t care if the meetings run past midnight-if they can do something more than business, such as share their lives with one another. Not that they don’t still complain about Session meetings’ length, but I now understand the nature of the complaint.

That’s a long way of saying that committees become for me a time to mingle with my parishioners, to talk about the weather, the kids, the construction of the new Hyatt Regency. There’s nothing earth shattering about that, but as most of us have discovered, such conversation is vital to building trust.

When I don’t attend, I miss out, and my relationship with my parishioners suffers.

Strengthening the larger ministry

Let me add a final reason I’m back to committees. Working with a committee helps not only that committee but other committees as well. Attending the worship committee, I can remind the members about the Bible seminar the Christian education committee will offer Saturday. Sure, they’ve heard about it in the newsletter and the weekly bulletin. But my mentioning it in an intimate setting is no small adjunct to other publicity.

Furthermore, one committee becomes a place to receive feedback on some other committee’s project or experiment. I ask the mission action committee what they thought of the Holy Week services, and the worship committee what they got out of the recent all-church picnic. The responses of people not wrapped up in making an event happen offer a valuable perspective.

So, as you can see, I’m a reconverted committeeman. Not every committee meeting needs my presence. But many do. And so I go.

It’s certainly not the only important work of the church. After all, churches do not live by committees alone. But then again, I’ve never seen one that could live without them, because that’s where some real ministry takes place.

– Mark J. Galli

Grace Presbyterian Church

Sacramento, California

Copyright © 1989 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Why is it that some church people come early, stay late, and work hard in between-and in the same church others show up late, quit programs midstream, and leave in a huff over minor irritations? And why are the numbers committed to working in the nursery, teaching Sunday school, or sweating on church work days never seemingly sufficient?

In a day when, as one pastor put it, “Everyone I know is overextended financially, emotionally, and spiritually,” how much can a pastor ask for? Especially from volunteers?

To find out, LEADERSHIP traveled to Tennessee, the land of the Volunteers, and talked with four experienced pastors:

-Maxie Dunnam, pastor of Christ United Methodist Church in Memphis;

-Don Finto, pastor of Belmont Church in Nashville;

-Duane Litfin, pastor of First Evangelical Church on Memphis’s growing east side;

-Adrian Rogers, pastor of Bellevue Baptist Church in downtown Memphis.

As you’ll see, the discussion soon wrestled with the deeper issues-spiritual growth, discipleship, leadership, and church structure.

Leadership: When you think of committed people in your church, who comes to mind?

Duane Litfin: An elder who has had opportunities to expand his business responsibilities and income, but he has chosen not to do that in order to retain maximum time for the Lord’s work. He chairs our missions board, which is a massive task.

Adrian Rogers: I thought of a man I greatly admire-Marvin Nelli. He operates a service station. He’s not a gifted speaker, but Marvin is perhaps the best personal witness I’ve ever met. He gets off work and visits in the hospitals-listening and sharing. Hardly a Sunday goes by that he doesn’t come forward with somebody he has led to a commitment to Christ. Sometimes it will be a whole family.

His commitment is not so much to the infrastructure as to what the organization is there to produce.

Maxie Dunnam: I think of Pauline Howard. People in the church call her to pray for them. Every week, though she’s about 80 years old, Pauline drives to a prison down in Mississippi and teaches people how to read. Hardly a week passes that she doesn’t call me and ask for $100 or $200 or $2,000 because somebody she’s helping needs something. It’s the most beautiful balance of personal piety and social witness I know.

Don Finto: We have a woman whose husband died of cancer ten years ago and left her with four children. People in the church helped her buy a car and do work on the house. Despite her financial difficulty, she gave the largest donation when another widow needed a car. A year ago she and her new husband and the two younger boys went to Haiti to minister, at their own expense, during their spring vacation.

Leadership: Powerful examples! The rub comes, though, because not everyone is this committed. What’s the “minimum weekly requirement” for the average member?

Litfin: Few things, I would say, are for everybody. Corporate worship on Sunday morning is about it. We do have Sunday evening and midweek services, but increasingly I’m willing to concede that we won’t get everyone back on all those occasions. In our culture, one gathering a week may be all you can expect everybody to attend.

Leadership: Anything besides worship attendance?

Litfin: Two other things: To be in a web of relationships and to participate in some form of ministry. We emphasize “one member, one ministry.” If you ask one of our members, “What’s your ministry?” he should be able to answer.

That’s what we expect, but we make a distinction between members and attenders. I’m delighted to have attenders-the more, the merrier. We’ll minister to them, woo them in, make the Christian life infectious, and try to help them grow. But when you say, “I want to join this church,” that is a statement of commitment. So for members, I expect attendance at worship, close relationships, and active ministry.

Leadership: What percentage of the members would you say meet those three criteria?

Litfin: You know the old 80/20 Rule-that 80 percent of the work gets done by 20 percent of the people. Well, I think our church does better than that. I’d put us at 70/30 or maybe 65/35. When you realize 50/50 is the ideal, 65/35 begins to look better. One of our strategic goals, though, is that by the year 2000 every member will be in some form of ministry.

Leadership: Do people know these expectations when they join?

Litfin: Yes, the “every member in ministry” is in our Target 2000 strategic plan. And in the new members’ class, I’m up front about the expectations.

Finto: It’s hard to place expectations on people if you do not have a formal membership.

In 1971, when I went to Belmont, I was so sick of dead institutionalism that my philosophy of church was, rent a warehouse and put up a sign that says, CHRISTIANS WORSHIP HERE. EVERYBODY WELCOME.

Well, that doesn’t work, because when you embrace everybody, you might end up with a New Ager or a witch teaching your children. So in the last six months we have come up with criteria for membership, one of which is: “to support the Lord’s work through Belmont Church with tithes, talents, and time.”

Leadership: How explicit do you make “tithes, talents, and time”?

Finto: We don’t spell it out contractually, but we make it explicit in new member classes. I’d like to think our involvement is at least 60/40 now, but we have a long way to go.

Again, that’s for members. Like Duane, I’m glad mere attenders are there, but on the other hand, I have to face the fact they’re a drain. We keep their babies in the nursery. We teach their children in classes. We financially supply for them. Yet they rarely contribute personally or financially.

Rogers: I differ. The only thing I look for when a person comes to join our church is commitment to Christ. Romans 14:1 says, “He who is weak in the faith, receive.” A newcomer is a babe, and I think every family needs a lot of babysitters. You can’t say to a baby, “We’ll let you into the family if you do the dishes, make the beds, mop the floors, bring in income.” He’s not equipped. He has to be nurtured and trained. So we keep a low threshold for new members.

Dunnam: We flirt with the danger of turning churches into elitist fellowships. Throughout my ministry, I’ve tried numerous methods to receive people into the church. First, I wouldn’t let them join until they’d been to twelve membership sessions. Then I reduced it to eight. Then to six. Now I don’t do anything. We have membership classes, but they aren’t a prerequisite to membership.

Interestingly, I cannot find any difference between the functioning of the members who’ve been through three months’ training and those who just walk down the aisle.

Leadership: So people don’t have to do anything to join?

Dunnam: Our approach is unusual in the Methodist church. Everybody who joins, whether from Adrian’s church or another Methodist church or by profession of faith, takes vows of Christian commitment and church membership. The vows cover commitment to Christ and the historic Christian faith, and then people are asked, “Will you be loyal to Christ through this particular church by holding it in your prayers, your presence, your gifts, and your service?”

Adrian’s point about “babies” is absolutely right. At the same time, I want my 2-year-old to learn to pick up something off the floor. So for a babe we have few expectations, but we still want some commitment as quickly as possible.

Leadership: If you keep entrance requirements at the infant level, what prevents you later from having spiritual teenagers who refuse to do any chores?

Rogers: The difference is between what we desire and what we require. You can’t require dedication, anyway. You can require some forms of legalism, but they won’t be a reality in people’s lives.

I believe you have to keep the theological standard high-the Lord said, “Be perfect,” and the leaders have to be striving for that standard with all there is in them. They are the spiritual fathers, John says.

But always there are the “little children” John refers to. They ought to grow rapidly, but you don’t screen them out on the front end. A church is an incubator, a nursery, a grade school. You start where people are and move them to where they need to be.

Leadership: When new people come, is it better to get them serving right away, so they don’t get programmed for inactivity? Or is it better to get them grounded in the Word and worship first?

Finto: It depends on the person’s background. If people are strong believers who have been active in ministry, we recruit them as soon as they’re ready. But if they’re inexperienced, we usually let them watch for a while.

Rogers: To me it depends on what you get them to do. When I meet with our new members, I tell them, “Every person has a gift, and our job is to help you discover, develop, and deploy that gift. There’s no clique to break into, but we feel it’s better for you to settle in and get acclimated. Don’t wait to serve, however, until you’re given an official position of service. If you’re the last one out of the room, turn out the lights. If you walk across the church grounds and see a piece of paper, pick it up and throw it away. Smile at the first person you meet in the hallway. That’s service to Jesus; that person may be the guy who came to church thinking, I’m going to give God one more chance before I jump off the Mississippi River bridge.”

So they begin to serve immediately. But again, we’re not going to give anybody a major responsibility unless he or she meets the criteria for leadership. You let a child carry out the wastebasket, but you don’t let him drive the car until he’s old enough and mature enough. And carrying out the wastebasket gets him ready to drive the car.

Dunnam: I believe in involving people in ministry as soon as you get a chance. Wesley talked about the means of grace. One means of grace he called “instituted.” This had to do with the Lord’s Supper, baptism, prayer, Bible reading, worship. But another means of grace was “providential”-simply works of mercy-to do no harm and to do all the good you can. I’ve seen more people serve their way into Christlikeness than I have seen pray their way into Christlikeness.

Leadership: Do you expect more from your lay leaders than you do from others? If so, what?

Rogers: There’s not one level of living here and another there; I believe God has the same high standard for all. But you can’t lead unless you’re out in front; those who lead must meet the standard. And so our requirements are holiness of living, doctrinal integrity, faithfulness, fellowship with the brethren. Then, of course, there’s spiritual giftedness, the ability to do the work we want them to do.

Finto: Paul doesn’t say anything in 1 Timothy about leaders that wouldn’t be expected of any Christian-with the possible exception of the things that talk about maturity.

But obviously we expect leaders to embrace the call we believe God has for our church. We’re an inner-city church, committed to stay, yet we had some elders who felt we should have moved to suburbia, so they were not supportive of the direction the church was going. Some weren’t supporting the church financially. Since we have lifetime elders, it led to tension within the eldership over many years.

So about a year ago, I felt the Lord was asking me to ask the elders as a group to resign. We operated with an interim group, and then the congregation affirmed a new group of elders. The church didn’t miss a heartbeat. Asking all the elders to resign was the right thing to do in our situation, but still, I’m appalled that I did it.

Dunnam: I’m appalled that you did it. (Laughter)

My hunch is that the real leaders of our church, unlike these other churches, are not necessarily in official positions. Many people in the body may be more committed, spiritually speaking, than some of the people on our administrative board. So if we do something that requires strong spiritual leadership and dynamic commitment, we’ll recruit those people from throughout the church.

For instance, we’ve just set up a nine-member committee to decide the mission and ministry of our church for the next five to ten years. Two of those people are from the administrative board, but we’ve drawn the rest from throughout the church.

If you were to ask the congregation, “Who are the spiritual leaders of this church?” they would name as many people outside the administrative board as they would inside.

Leadership: Is it your role to increase people’s level of commitment to Christ? To the church? Both?

Litfin: In our church, we rarely, if ever, talk about membership. Because there’s no pressure for membership, we have a large group of people who have never joined the church but are there week in and week out and involved in ministry. One family, for example, was from a Greek Orthodox background, and it was difficult for them to make a formal commitment. Not until after nine years of active involvement did they join the church.

But when someone is interested in leadership-elder, Sunday school teacher-we ask, “Are you a member?” Membership is for those who can say, “I’m willing to make an explicit commitment to this church.”

Is that what you’re saying, Adrian?

Rogers: No. If you’re a visitor or non-Christian, we consider you a welcome attender. But a commitment to Christ is ipso facto a commitment to church membership. To be in Christ is to be in the body.

Litfin: But that’s not the same as commitment to a local fellowship.

Rogers: I think it is. When the church is mentioned in Scripture, the great preponderance of times it refers to the local fellowship. When a person is committed to Christ, he needs to come under the authority of a pastor and be part of a church body. Like a newborn child, he is part of a family.

Finto: Our highest calling is to draw people to Jesus. The church is only to point people to Jesus.

Some may be hesitant to draw a distinction between commitment to the Lord and commitment to the church. Commitment to the church, ideally, ought to come about because I’m committed to the Lord and what he’s doing in this body of believers.

But in my background, I found many people committed to the church who weren’t committed to the Lord.

Dunnam: It’s our responsibility to see that the church’s ministry is centered in Christ and Christ’s mission to the world. Then you can see commitment to Christ and commitment to the church as one and the same.

Rogers: The problem is that in the minds of many people, committed to the church means committed to the meetings of the church. If we say commitment to the church is the same as commitment to God, then these people think they have to attend meetings in order to be committed to God.

I know some men who are having difficulty in their homes because of this. The wife can’t complain that she has an absentee husband, because he’s off “serving God” by sitting in meetings. In reality, he might better serve God by staying home.

I’ve never tried to get people committed to leadership or even committed to the church, per se. To go after church commitment is a mistake. It is a commitment to Christ that you want. People will do for Jesus what they’ll never do for you.

Dunnam: I don’t separate expectations of the church and expectations of Christ. If you do, you’re saying your church isn’t carrying out the ministry of Christ.

Finto: I am caught by the realization that we are never told in the Bible to draw people to the church. We are told to draw them to Jesus. The church is not to be lifted up, but Jesus is.

Dunnam: Theologically, I question that. Paul understood the church as Christ’s body. He was constantly calling people to be responsible to the body. You don’t draw people to Jesus in isolation, and you don’t draw people to Jesus apart from a fellowship of Jesus.

Finto: True, but many people today have to be converted to Jesus before they can tolerate the church. I’ve seen people committed to the institution who were not committed to Christ at all.

My destination likely is the same as yours, Maxie, because I think one has to be part of the church. But I’d take a different route to get there.

Leadership: What are your most effective strategies for building commitment: Preaching? Prayer? Establishing small groups? Visitation?

Litfin: One strategy is to have some sense of where the congregation needs to be going and then to call people to that end. If I as pastor don’t keep that vision before the people, who will?

The foremost strategy for me, though, is preaching. I’m an expository preacher, and I use every opportunity, as I work through the text, to be drawing this vision.

I’ve been preaching through Revelation, for example, and it’s extraordinary the degree to which it gives us the ability to call people to the kingdom of Jesus Christ. I can say, “This is what all of human history is about, and here we are on our way to accomplish it.”

Another way of building commitment is by influencing the leadership. I can’t be one-on-one with every member of the congregation.

Dunnam: I agree that the way you set the tone for commitment, more than any other way, is in the pulpit. I doubt if there’s a Sunday in which I don’t call people to examine where they are in relation to the Lord.

Yesterday I preached from Paul’s greeting to the Colossians, and I asked, “Are you growing in the gospel?” One way to tell you’re growing, I said, is if your dependence upon God is increasing and your dependence upon the props of life is decreasing. A second way is to ask yourself, Is there anything in my life that requires Jesus Christ to explain?

Finto: I don’t think we can lead somebody to a deeper commitment than we have. Patton said an army is like spaghetti: you can’t push it anywhere; you have to lead it.

I also believe I need to devote myself to prayer, and that everything else grows out of that. At least I believe that intellectually. Several years ago I heard Leonard Ravenhill say something that will haunt me until the day of my death. He said, “No preacher is worth his salt who doesn’t spend at least two hours a day in prayer.” I suspect he’s right.

Litfin: I work hard to avoid the notion that people are doing the pastor a favor by serving. They’re not doing this for me, and if they are, I don’t want them to be doing it. They’re doing it as unto the Lord.

Leadership: What do you do with people who seem to be loafing more than resting, who seem better at taking than at giving?

Rogers: You endure them. You love them. But you never accommodate the church to them, or everything will stop. You don’t move a church in convoy, because a convoy slows down to the slowest ship. So you move with the movers. If the rest want to move, fine; if they don’t, let them sit there. But as you move with the movers, a few who were sitting will start to get moving, too.

Why do we fall off in leadership exponentially from the top until there’s no commitment at all? It’s because too often we don’t choose Class A people to be leaders. I mean highly committed people who have a desire for excellence, who have the goods to be leaders. (A person can be a great, committed Christian and not be a leader.)

These Class A people will choose only Class A people to work with them. But if you let Class B people into leadership, they’ll choose Class C people. And there’s no telling whom the Class C people will choose.

Leadership: The key, then, is not to worry about the nonchalant but to focus on the people who are ready to go.

Rogers: It’s not a comforting thought to think that the average convert will become like the average member, but he will. (Laughter) But cream rises to the top. My goal is to work with those leaders. This means I’m ministering one on one to about the same number of people I ministered to when I pastored a small church.

Jesus told about the tree that didn’t bear any fruit. He said, “If it doesn’t bear next year, cut it down, for why does it cumber the ground?” The worst thing about it was it was taking the place of a fruit-producing tree. When someone can’t do the job, not only is the job not being done, but he’s standing in the way of somebody else doing the job.

Leadership: With this approach, how do you avoid the charge of elitism, that you’re not spending time with the outcasts, or even “average” people?

Rogers: You don’t avoid ministry to them, but Jesus’ overall strategy for building commitment was to reproduce himself through a few.

Leadership: Have any of you ever been criticized because of some commitment you were asking people to make?

Rogers: No. People want you to hold the standard high. They may not expect to reach it personally, but they’ll say, “Man, what a pastor!” Halfheartedness and mediocrity don’t inspire anybody to do anything.

Litfin: I work hard at not calling people to things that are unrealistic, but I have taken flak at times. People say, “You’re not being realistic,” or “It’s easy for you to say. You’re in full-time Christian work.”

I view myself as a projector shining on the wall Christ’s expectations for all to see. They’re not my expectations. I didn’t invent them. I’m here to say, “Look what Christ wants us to be. I haven’t arrived yet, either, but let’s go.”

Dunnam: Criticism, if you get it, comes not so much when you raise moral issues or standards as when you challenge people to give money. When you demand a pure lifestyle, you get avoidance, but when you ask for money, you get criticism.

Finto: Churches that are not holding the standard high are not getting anywhere. It’s the churches who call for commitment that are growing.

Litfin: I’m not sure, at least if you mean growing in number. An associate pastor of a large church told me recently, “What you’ll hear in this church week in and week out is, ‘Come; your sins can be forgiven. Come and let us meet your needs.’ But what you never will hear from the pulpit or anyplace else is, ‘Take up your cross, deny yourself, and follow me.’ ” And they are a huge church and growing.

I think of the difference between a willow tree and an oak. A willow grows very fast and gives shade quickly. But it’s soft wood. You climb the tree, and the branches break off. The tree is susceptible to pests and disease, and it’s short-lived. Oak churches grow slower, but they’re strong and resistant to pests and disease.

Leadership: Can someone be too involved in church ministry? Have you ever asked someone to do less?

Litfin: I try not to have expectations of our lay leadership that I’m not willing to fulfill myself. The average professional in our church is putting in over fifty hours a week at work. If I’m asking him to put in ten hours a week on leadership in our church, then his work plus church exceeds sixty hours a week. It’s not fair to ask that unless my total hours per week are the same.

Finto: Generally, people don’t burn out because they’re doing church work. There may be some exceptions, but usually people are burned out by many other things going on in their lives.

Litfin: Right. Many professional people have the tiger by the tail and don’t know how to let go. Their jobs are consuming them, and yet they want to be active in ministry. What they’re doing with their lives is killing them, yet they don’t know how to break free.

When I see someone who’s so tied into his profession he’s already putting in sixty or seventy hours per week, I know I don’t have any business trying to add another ten or twelve hours a week of church work to his load. A conversation about commitments and priorities might be in order, but not recruitment.

So a few times, usually because they were facing difficulties at home, we have asked elders to back off from church work so they could get their lives and families together.

Finto: When people are hearing God, I believe they’re going to have Sabbaths-ebb and flow-in their lives. When they’ve been with people too much, they need to back away from people. At times, people need to be not in assembly. Our people know I feel that way, and probably some of them will take advantage of it, but there have been a few times when I’ve encouraged my wife not to be at church because I felt she had been so overloaded. I let people know that.

Leadership: What was their reaction?

Finto: I think it caused me to go up in their estimation. They were shocked that a preacher would tell anybody to stay home and not come to church.

Litfin: When I call people to sacrificial living, they may be intimidated. I need to give them bite-sized ways to begin serving. For example, we had a Wednesday night dinner, and every week we had problems recruiting the workers. It killed the dinner and the woman doing the recruiting. So we broke down the dinner into small tasks-you stand here and wipe trays-and gave each one to an elder, deacon, pastor, or the spouse of one of those. We took on the dinner to model to the congregation the willingness to serve. Others joined in, and today the dinner is thriving.

It showed me that most people do better serving in an identifiable, manageable task. When you give that to people, they don’t burn out.

Finto: We’re writing job descriptions for every nonpaid person. We don’t call them volunteers anymore, though. We call them unpaid staff.

Leadership: What do you know now about calling people to commitment that you wish you’d known starting out?

Dunnam: That I don’t need to be intimidated by any lay person, no matter who he is. One of my problems for years was that I was intimidated by highly placed people.

When I came out of seminary, I organized a church that included doctors, lawyers, and professional people. I had trouble presenting the claims of the gospel and the call for stewardship. But as I’ve matured, I talk to them differently today than I did then.

A few months ago, for example, I told one man he had better think twice about how he was treating his pastor. That pastor was the best person they could have in that church at this time. Even though my friend didn’t agree with some of the things the pastor was saying, he needed to think about how he was treating him.

Rogers: The thing I’m still learning is that God has called every member to minister. The pastor is not the hired gun. I’ve gotten so bold as to tell my people they don’t pay my salary; they give the money to God, and God pays my salary. Now I say that with a smile. But I tell them, “You don’t pay me to do your ministry. My duty is to equip you for ministry.”

Litfin: I’ve learned not to be afraid to call people to a life of sacrifice. There’s a lot in me that doesn’t want to put people off. I think, If you say that, people may not be able to handle it. They may walk away. But I’m haunted by the Lord’s willingness to let the rich young ruler walk away. Jesus did not water down his expectations or fear turning people off.

Finto: In my early years I instilled guilt instead of conviction. I would read a passage like Matthew 25 about visiting the sick and the prisoners, and I’d get guilt-ridden. Then I’d pass that on in my preaching.

Later, as I came to believe that Jesus lives in us through the Holy Spirit, I saw that was the key to knowing which sick person and prisoner to visit. Now my goal is to challenge my people to hear from God and to obey his leading.

When people are hearing from God and obeying him, they’ll become fully committed.

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