June 28, 2006

Video Venues and the Papacy of Celebrity: Why changing the methods always changes the message

Most people spend a significant part of the week looking at screens; television screens, movie screens, computer screens—in fact, you’re looking at one right now. But traditionally Sunday morning was not a screen-time. Then came PowerPoint. First the hymnal was replaced and now many churches are substituting 3-D preachers with 2-D digital projections. Shane Hipps, Lead Pastor of Trinity Mennonite Church in Phoenix, Arizona, has written a new book that asks us to explore the implications of new technology on our ministries. Below is an excerpt from The Hidden Power of Electronic Culture: How Media Shapes Faith, the Gospel, and Church (Zondervan, 2006). To get more background on Hipps' understanding of how mediums impact our message be sure to read his previous post.

One of the increasingly popular initiatives in the North American evangelical church is the use of multi-site, video-venue worship services. This is a model where multiple congregations are sprinkled throughout a city or campus, but one preacher is piped in to each gathering via video. Its proponents argue such a method offers the best of both worlds—you don’t have to commute, you get to worship your way, and you don’t have to sacrifice great preaching.

I was visiting a church recently on the day they were launching their multi-site service. I watched the sermon live, while two other gatherings in other parts of the city watched via a large projection screen. It was a stellar sermon by an extraordinarily gifted preacher well-known in the Christian subculture. But the most striking feature of the sermon was that his message was being directly contradicted by his medium—the video venue.

Here’s how. The pastor was speaking on the difference between talent and character and how too often we emphasize talent in ministry more than character. He began with an object lesson. There on stage next to him was a huge dictionary set on a high stool. As he spoke he began to dispense several cans of whipped cream on top of the dictionary, creating a white fluffy mound. When he finished he told us that the dictionary was our character, the firm foundation. The whipped cream was our talent, something very attractive but lacking substance. After this set up he concluded by saying, “If your ministry is based on character it will last, but if your ministry is based on talent…” he paused, and then swatted the mound of whipped cream. In one swoop it was all over the floor “…your ministry will suffer when times get tough.”

His message was excellent and told an important truth—ministry is supported by character, not talent. However, the medium of the video venue had a subliminal message of its own. The message of a video venue sermon is that the authority to preach is derived from talent and celebrity not character or communal affirmation. A televised event doesn’t communicate anything about a person’s character. It can only affirm or deny talent and attractiveness. We don’t generally watch movies or TV shows because we respect or want to know the personal character of the actors. We watch because we are attracted by their beauty, talent, or celebrity.

Character requires some personal knowledge of one another. This personal knowledge is impossible for the satellite congregations who only see the pastor’s performance. The congregation witnessing the sermon via video can only assess whether the preacher has talent, not whether he or she has character.

Not only did the medium undermine this particular preacher’s message, the extensive financial outlay required to pull off a video-venue service communicates to the congregation that only a preacher with a golden tongue has authority to preach the gospel. It conveys the unspoken belief that no one in the satellite congregation has the authority to speak to their context because preaching requires unique talents that only a few actually possess. Like the wizard in The Wizard of Oz, only the larger-than-life giants, painted by pixelated light, and hovering above the congregation, possess these elusive talents. The medium itself nurtures an elite priestly class in which the preacher is set apart from the people. With video venues, we can say goodbye to the priesthood of all believers and hello to the papacy of celebrity.

Even if this attitude is explicitly denied by the preacher, the very medium reinforces the belief that only talented people with some degree of celebrity can or should preach. Even if lay people were encouraged to share a word from God before the church, the pressure is too much for most of us. Few people possess the confidence and charisma to preach before thousands, let alone the unflinching gaze of the camera vicariously channeling the eyes of others who witness and study every amplified movement or mistake.

My critique of this situation has nothing to do with the preacher’s message, character, or intention. In fact I have great respect and admiration for this person. The problem comes from a lack of awareness for how media shapes our message in worship. When we ignore the power of the chosen media, its effects often go undetected. As a result, we fail to perceive the unintended consequences of our decisions and the ways our media undermines our message.

Posted by UrL at June 28, 2006 | Comments (37)

June 23, 2006

Radioactive Church Attendance: predicting your congregation’s half-life

Some churches are more unstable than others. This may not be the result of impulsive leadership or poor planning, but rather the life stage of the congregation. Dave Terpstra pastors The Next Level Church in Denver, a community comprised primarily of young singles and families. Here, Dave compares the instability of church attendance to the half-life of radioactive material and gives some helpful suggestions from his own experience.

I have noticed a trend in the churches of which I have been a part. Most church attenders have a half-life. In other words, on average, one can predict the longevity of an individual’s participation in the church by their life stage. [I’m going to be using general terms and rough numbers so please don’t get lost in the details, but try and stick with the overarching analogy.]

After high school students graduate from high school, about half of them will leave the church. After college students graduate, about half of them will leave. When a college grad takes a career, again half of them leave the church. When they get married, when they have kids, when they become empty nesters, when they retire…half, half, half, half.

Chances are more than half leave after high school and maybe more than half stay from empty-nester to retirement. However, the phenomenon of church members leaving at life’s natural transition points still exists. So what does that mean for us as church leaders?

1. Just like in radioactive material, the more “half-lives” the material has made it through, the more stable the material. Therefore, retired people are the most stable, followed by empty-nesters. High school and college students are terribly unstable (in case you didn’t already know).

2. Churches that target young families are targeting those who may be stable for the longest period of time. A family with a newborn will potentially stay for 18 years until their child graduates from high school and they become empty nesters.

3. If the numbers turned out to be true based that means only one out of 64 high school students will actually make it to retirement in the church.

4. Radioactive material doesn’t disappear all at once. The material transforms over time. Don’t expect all of the transitions to take place at once, but they will take place.

Since my church is full of students and singles it is more unstable than a church full of empty-nesters and retirees. However, instability and radioactivity can produce a lot of energy as well. So remember that there are costs and benefits to both sides.

But since most churches seem to go after families, allow me to give some more general challenges and warnings.

1. Don’t just go after the “easy” target of young families. Students and singles need the church too. Especially considering how unstable their lives are, perhaps they need us even more than young families. Deal with the instability and reach young people for the Kingdom!

2. Give your youth pastor, college pastor, and young adult pastor a break! You cannot expect them to be able to retain every student and individual that was at the previous stage. Even the best senior leaders don’t keep everyone who becomes and empty-nester. Cut them some slack.

3. Pay attention to an increased adult population nearing a transition point. If a couple of families every year become empty-nesters that may not be a significant change. If 1/2 of all your families go through that transition in three years time, you may see a major drop in attendance or participation.

4. Constantly go after individuals on the lower end of each half-life cycle. Remember, you can’t just expect everyone to transition from one stage to the next.

5. Pay attention to staff members going through transition points as well. It should not be a surprise when a staff member leaves after getting married, having kids, or becoming an empty nester. Life transitions lead to job transitions as well.

I recognize I am not speaking with hard data to back up my conclusions. I am simply making observations. But I am interested if there are churches that have mastered the art of retaining people in their community from one stage to the next. I’m curious if this is just a large church phenomenon or if smaller churches experience it too. I’m most curious about churches that are able to help someone make it from being a college student to a young family—the most unstable life stage of all.

Posted by UrL at June 23, 2006 | Comments (7)

June 19, 2006

The Second Coming of Superman: Finally, a "Christian" movie not marketed to churches

Thank you Hollywood. Thank you Warner Brothers. Thank you director Brian Singer. Thank you for leaving me and my church alone!

Next week the highly anticipated film “Superman Returns” debuts in theaters. Early reviews are incredibly positive, and some are predicting the return of the original superhero to the silver screen will break box office records. But the web is also chatting about the movie’s apparently overt Christian themes. That made me wonder—why didn’t I receive any marketing materials at my church? Why no posters, toys for the children’s ministry, or helpful super-sermon ideas? Why wasn't America's comic book messiah marketed to Christians?

CNN’s entertainment page is running an article titled “Jesus Christ Superman” that discusses the film’s Christian credentials. Billed as a sequel to the original movie directed by Richard Donner in 1978, “Superman Returns” has a digitally resurrected Marlon Brando playing Superman’s “heavenly” father that has sent is only son to earth as a “light to show the way.”

In the new film, directed by Brian Singer, Superman returns to Metropolis after an absence of five years just in time to rescue humanity from cataclysmic destruction—a story line that could be seen as symbolic of Jesus’ death and resurrection or his eschatological second advent. In one scene the man of steel is stabbed in the side with a kryptonite shard just as Christ was pierced by the Roman’s spear. And another scene shows Superman with outstretched arms reminiscent of Jesus’ crucifixion.

Finding messianic overtones in the Superman mythology is nothing new. As the CNN article points out:

[Superman’s] comparison to Jesus is one that's been made almost since the character's origin in 1938, said Skelton, author of "The Gospel According to the World's Greatest Superhero."

Many simply see the story of a hero sent to Earth by his father to serve mankind as having clear enough New Testament overtones. Others have taken the comparison even further, reading the "El" in Superman's original name "Kal-El" and that of his father "Jor-El" as the Hebrew word for "God," among other theological interpretations.

The Time article, "The Gospel of Superman" by Richard Corliss, says that Brian Singer's new movie emphasizes the character's similarities to Jesus even more than previous incarnations:

Earlier versions of Superman stressed the hero's humanity: his attachment to his Earth parents, his country-boy clumsiness around Lois. The Singer version emphasizes his divinity. He is not a super man; he is a god (named Kal-El), sent by his heavenly father (Jor-El) to protect Earth. That is a mission that takes more than muscles; it requires sacrifice, perhaps of his own life. So he is no simple comic-book hunk. He is Earth's savior: Jesus Christ Superman.

We shouldn’t over look Superman’s wholesome alter ego, Clark Kent, either. Raised in the conservative Midwest with red-state family values like truth, justice, and the American way—one could imagine mild mannered Clark Kent attending a church potluck after leaving the newsroom at the Daily Planet.

With so many biblical and conservative values to exploit, why didn’t Superman Returns' producers market the film more directly at evangelical Christians? In the last two years Hollywood has enthusiastically used the church to advertise family-friendly and biblically meaningful movies. “The Passion of the Christ” and “The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe,” are the most obvious examples. Last December my mailbox was bombarded with Narnia merchandise, pastor promotions, and sermon ideas.

Granted, Narnia was written by C.S. Lewis with intentional Christian symbolism. But even less overtly Christian films have also been marketed to pastors and church leaders like “Cinderella Man,” and the heretical “Da Vinci Code.” (This Spring I couldn’t read a Christian journal or webpage without Mona Lisa or Leonardo himself staring back at me.)

Having suffered financially in recent years, Hollywood seems eager to win the evangelical market with family-friendly, wholesome, biblically illustrative films. This looks like a job for Superman! But, strangely, Warner Brothers has chosen to ignore churches and pastors in their marketing campaign for "Superman Returns." And for this I say to Warner Brothers, Brian Singer, and everyone responsible for creating and distributing the movie, THANK YOU!

Thank you for not using the church as a money-making vehicle.

Thank you for not hijacking my church’s mission to make disciples by using it to make consumers.

Thank you for not replacing Christian art, symbols, and icons with movie posters and advertisements.

Thank you for not trying to interfere with the ministry of preaching God’s Word by offering pastors rewards for mentioning your film in a sermon.

Thank you for not filling our children’s ministry with Superman plush toys and kryptonite bracelets.

Thank you for not telling me "Superman Returns" is the greatest outreach opportunity in the galaxy.

Thank you for not asking me to rent an entire theater so our members can invite non-Christians to see the film.

Thank you for respecting the integrity of my faith.

And thank you for letting me enjoy "Superman Returns" simply for what it is—a good night at the movies.

Posted by Skye Jethani at June 19, 2006 | Comments (27)

June 15, 2006

The President & The Pastor (part 2): more lessons from George W. Bush’s brave/reckless leadership style

In May, NY Times book reviewer Michiko Kakutani surveyed seventeen books written about the leadership of President Bush. Her article, which summarized what Bush’s fans and critics have observed about his leadership style, caught the attention of Out of Ur blogger Andy Rowell. Andy is a teacher of church leadership at Taylor University and a former pastor. In part 2 of his post, he reminds us that some bureaucracy may actually be good, and he champions the value of transparency.

Lesson 3: Remember that some policies and procedures created generations before us actually make sense.
There is nothing more annoying than a policy that does not make sense to us. There certainly may be policies on the books at your church that no longer fulfill their original intended functions.

By all accounts, President Bush inherited a dysfunctional overly bureaucratic intelligence establishment. Sensing this, the Bush administration created a special office to look into the evidence for Iraq's weapons of mass destruction. In doing so, they unintentionally avoided experts and procedures that would have noticed and corrected some of the weaknesses in the intelligence gathering methods and conclusions.

One of the hardest things for a pastor is getting permission to do things. Often times, we have to wait until the next committee meeting to get our initiative approved. At that meeting, the issue is discussed but there is a request for more information before a final decision can be made at next month's board meeting! Frequently, we're sorry we asked! Isn't it just better to ask forgiveness than to ask permission? But sometimes these cumbersome policies and procedures help protect us from our own blind spots.

Lesson 4: Be honest and transparent about what you are doing.

President Bush permitted wire-tapping without full public disclosure because his team believed getting permission wasn't fully necessary. But when it became public he was highly criticized for it. Apparently, even National Security Advisor Condoleeza Rice does not always get consulted when things are happening. For example, she reportedly was not informed about the plans to house foreign prisoners at Guantanamo Bay.

In pastoral ministry there are certainly times when levels of confidentiality and limited disclosure are called for. For example, some people will be working with a couple having difficulty in their marriage. Not everyone in the church needs to know what is going on. But in general, our desire to keep something we are doing secret is an indicator that something is wrong.

Once I bought a board game for $40 with money from the church budget in order to use it for one evening's activities. I ended up using the game for about twenty minutes. Was that worth the money? I found myself debating whether I should pay for the game out of my own money or with the church’s. I ended up sheepishly explaining my questions to my Senior Pastor. We ended up deciding that I would pay for it myself and keep the game because the church would have no ongoing use for it. Even though I have not used the game since, it was probably the right decision because I learned again the importance of financial integrity in the church.

The point is that in the ministry we sometimes do things we feel mildly embarrassed about. Bush and team probably felt a bit embarrassed about the wiretaps and Guantanamo. Their temptation was to keep these things private and secretive for as long as possible. Bob Woodward, one of the journalists who helped uncover Watergate, says that presidents can make mistakes but they just need to admit them promptly and clearly. When a mistake is admitted, people are stirred up momentarily but they let the issue go. Similarly, as pastors, if our conscience bothers us, let's expose the offending issue to others. If we have a desire to be secretive, there is probably something wrong.

Conclusion: Perhaps we are better off seeking to be faithful rather than seeking to make an impact.

The last line of Kakutani’s article says:

The administration's growing problems suggest that Mr. Bush might have done well to put aside his yearning, as Fred Barnes notes, to be an "event-making leader" who "by himself, changes the course of history" and focused instead on a task Mr. Barnes says is not even on the president's radar: "being an 'eventful leader' who merely handles the tribulations of his era skillfully."

The same might be said to us. Like the president, we badly want to "make a difference." We want to "make an impact." That is good.

But may we first endeavor to be faithful. There is something deeply noble about someone who "merely" serves faithfully in the midst of the trials and tribulations of local church life. Life will be full of enough problems for us to overcome without causing a number of them by our foolishness and ambition.

Instead, may we take the situations that are given to us and approach them with all the courage and wisdom we can muster. And may we recognize that the "opportunities" that demand we compromise our integrity in order to "tackle them" are in fact temptations of the evil one. May we have the courage and conscience to bypass the ambition and the fame despite the cutting label "ordinary." Another One will call us faithful.

Posted by UrL at June 15, 2006 | Comments (8) | TrackBack

June 13, 2006

The President & The Pastor: lessons from George W. Bush’s brave/reckless leadership style

In 2000, Bill Hybels invited President Clinton to speak at Willow Creek’s Leadership Summit. The controversial move was based on the assumption that pastors could learn from Clinton’s leadership experience—both his triumphs and his mistakes. Following this tradition Ur blogger, Andy Rowell, examines President Bush’s leadership style to glean wisdom for ministers. Andy teaches church leadership at Taylor University in Upland, Indiana, and previously served as the Associate Pastor at Granville Chapel in Vancouver, British Columbia.

Pulitzer prize-winning NY Times book critic Michiko Kakutani reviewed seventeen recent books about President George W. Bush in her May 11, 2006 article entitled "Critic's Notebook: All the President's Books (Minding History's Whys and Wherefores)." She concludes that Bush's supporters and critics agree on one thing—that he often ignores advice and chains of command in decision-making. While this approach has the potential to bring fresh ideas to useless bureaucracy, it can also lead to poor decisions. Kakutani's article raises serious questions about the decision-making processes of the Bush administration. Still, the breadth of her reading, her attempt to make her points without partisan exaggeration, and her thorough documentation, make the article wonderful fodder for anyone (Bush fan or hater) seeking to learn about leadership.

In particular it seems that young pastors like me [I'm thirty years old] can learn much from the effects of President Bush's brave/reckless leadership style. As young pastors we can easily spot things that look outdated or overly bureaucratic. We can walk into a room and have a vision for how things could be spruced up. In some ways, young pastors are in demand precisely for these instincts. We have fresh eyes to old problems. We have fresh energy to tackle big challenges. And yet, Bush's example reminds us to take care as we lead.

Lesson 1: Be cautious before acting on our first impression.

Kakutani notes a number of Bush insiders who have indicated that Iraq was on the agenda of the administration before 9-11. They also admit that there was never a clear process by which the decision was made to go to war. The troops were sent to the region and then eventually it happened. Other economic advisors complain that Bush's staff was not interested in hearing any alternative to their drive to cut taxes. There is surely more to each of these stories than these simple characterizations but still the lesson is apparent.

As pastors, we cannot help but make initial impressions about what needs to be done when we enter a church. Still, those initial judgments may not be reliable. When I was new to the church where I pastored, I was disturbed by the shabbiness of the decor of the church building. Six years later, we did end up getting new carpet but in the process I learned a number of things that tempered that first impression.

I learned that on Sunday mornings with hundreds of buzzing people, the carpet was less noticeable. It was most noticeable to me during the week when no one was around. In that case, is it worth replacing the carpet for the pastor's morale on Wednesday? I also learned that this church gave more of a percentage of its budget to missions than any church I had ever attended. I also learned that in an urban setting, immaculate cheery suburban decor may turn as many people off as it attracts.

Lesson 2. Seek out and pay attention to qualified advisors.

According to Kakutani's article, Bush and team did not listen to thoroughly researched reports that Iraq would most likely need a huge investment of time, money and soldiers. They were quite sure that the American soldiers would be greeted as liberators so they dismissed these inconvenient warnings by marginalizing these voices even if they had previously been supporters. (Interestingly, I just heard that Bush got together today, June 12, with some of his advisors to talk about Iraq. These are not necessarily people who have agreed with Bush's handling of the war, but who are acknowledged experts in war strategy. See Bush invites his critics to a war council at Camp David).

As young pastors we should run our plans past a wise pastor friend before we decide to rip all the pews out of the sanctuary. Our initial sense is that we will be greeted as liberators from the status quo, but then again, the response might be mixed. And if that wise older pastor counsels caution, will we discount the advice because he is old and out of touch, or will we take that counsel as an invitation to sharper reflection on the pros and cons of our approach?

At my church, I was a bit frustrated that so few people were attending from the surrounding neighborhood. "Something should be done" I thought, "and I guess I should do it since no one else is." (Ah, the mixture of passion, pride and ignorance.) I began making plans. Fortunately, I was in the habit of briefing my senior pastor weekly on my projects and plans. He gently described to me the efforts that had been made over the last thirty years to reach out to the surrounding neighborhood.

Thankfully, my “aha” moment occurred in his office rather than on one of our neighbor's doorsteps. His narrative helped me see that my instincts were good but any new attempt would need to take into account that many of the neighbors may have had negative experiences with outreach attempts in the past. We ended up giving each neighbor a free Christmas poinsettia plant with a friendly note to thank them for their patience with all the traffic and parking problems that our church generated. It warmed up some relationships that had been cold.

When we sincerely seek out the opinions of others, they will at times say things that jar us—that do not fit with our nicely arranged plans. It is easy to dismiss them as negative or vision-challenged, but if we dismiss them prematurely we endanger ourselves and our flock.

Andy Rowell will be posting more lessons from George W. Bush in part 2 of The President & The Pastor.

Posted by UrL at June 13, 2006 | Comments (7) | TrackBack

June 9, 2006

Is Church Growth the Highway to Hell?

The summer issue of Leadership, arriving in mailboxes in July, focuses on the impact of consumerism on ministry. Some people have equated the church growth movement with the rise of "consumer Christianity." Others believe the church growth philosophy has brought innovation and health to ministry.

Our friends at ChurchMarketingStinks.com are hosting an interesting conversation on the blessing/curse of the church growth movement. Here is a sample.

Start talking about church growth and things can get ugly. Eyebrows raise. Tempers flare. Comments explode. Just ask any blogging pastor who has broached the subject. It's as if growing your church is taking the on-ramp to the highway to hell.

The New Testament church grew daily (Acts 2:47). I think it's hard to deny that the purpose of the church is to grow, to bring in new people and increase numbers.

And perhaps that's the rub. Some people are concerned with motivation or focus, thinking numbers have suddenly become supreme. Others wonder if a successful church always has to be growing. Others ask if it's ever healthy for a church to be declining. Some might just be jealous.

In Part 2 of the discussion, Rick Warren chimes in with his 9 myths about church growth:

Myth #1: The only thing that large churches care about is attendance.
"The truth is, you won't grow large if that is all you care about" (48)

Myth #2: All large churches grow at the expense of smaller churches.
This may be true for some churches, but not all, and it's certainly not a good sign of growth. Warren calls it "reshuffling the card deck". (For the record, 80% of Saddleback's members became Christians at Saddleback.)

Myth #3: You must choose between quality and quantity in your church.
Every church should want both, and they feed on each other. Quality produces quantity (do it well and people will come) and quantity produces quality (if you have more people, you'll have more skilled people).

Myth #4: You must compromise the message and the mission of the church in order to grow.I never understand this critique. Somehow the church is selling out because people are coming. There are some churches that have watered down the message, but painting every church in such broad strokes like this is so wrong. It always seems like a bit of petty jealousy to me—that church is growing and mine isn't, so they must be doing something wrong.

Visit Church Marketing Stinks to read more.

Posted by UrL at June 9, 2006 | Comments (48) | TrackBack

June 6, 2006

Is Jesus the Answer or the Question?: rediscovering the role of mystery in our faith

Recent posts on Ur have focused on the nature of Emergent—is it liberal Christianity recast for a new generation, or simply a forum of conversation for those looking for a better understanding of their faith? Critics have accused Emergent’s better known participants, Tony Jones and Brian McLaren, of being evasive with answers to pointed doctrinal questions. In response, Jones and McLaren have pointed to the importance of dialogue and thoughtful questions over definitive answers.

Ed Gungor’s new book, Religiously Transmitted Diseases (Nelson Ignite, 2006), equates definitive answers with “dead religion.” In this excerpt from the book, Gungor affirms the life-giving role of mystery within our faith.

I think Christianity is supposed to be the unreligion. That’s because the strictness and predictability of religion causes simple, pure faith to become diseased. If not stopped, religion can even kill living faith. And dead things just aren’t very interesting. Case in point…

I was eleven years old the first time I dissected anything. I was on a scouting trip. Armed with flashlights, a few of us wandered into the woods after dark to explore. Joe was the first to spot him. He was a pretty good-sized frog. And he was quick. Flashlights and size 8 feet darted every which way as we scrambled to grab him. Something in us boys wanted to know what was inside that frog, what made that living thing alive.

“Don’t kill it!” Joe cried. “Take him alive.”

I’m sure that frog had no idea he was going to stumble into the midst of a gaggle of earth giants that night, and he did his best to flee, but to no avail. I got my hand around him as he tried to hop between my feet. Then we each whipped out our scout-issue jack-knives and begged to be the surgeon.

In a few moments the frog lay dead, his inner secrets uncovered. But to my surprise we didn’t gain any greater understanding of Froggie when we opened him up. We had lost something. The interest that had charged the air during the hunt completely disappeared when he lay open and lifeless before us. Dead things aren’t nearly as attention-grabbing as things that are alive. Only in the presence of life does mystery exist.

My quest to dissect continues to this day. It is as though I am uncomfortable with wonder. I find something full of life and, instead of enjoying the mystery of it, I want to dissect it, to figure out the how and why. But dissecting life results in death. And once death comes, the mystery disappears.

Religion, too, is all about dissecting. It is the nemesis of mystery.

But religion does have its attraction. It is so neat, so organized, so repetitive, so habitual, and oh-so-predictable. It makes God look more like a clock than a person – ticking and tocking in a perfectly ordered way. Life isn’t nearly so conventional. It is messy and full of surprises. Repetitious? Yes, but certainly not predictable.

I have conducted more funerals this year than in recent memory. We often say that dead people “rest in peace.” I think we are fooled by the way they just lie there. No complaining. No whining. Just nice and stiff and orderly – religious, really. That’s because religion is antilife in some ways. It demands order and fixation, just as rigor mortis demands of the dead.

Religion may be attractive on one level, but it always strives to remove all the mystery that congests life. It has answers for everything, because questions are way too untidy. “Jesus is the answer.” Right? But what if Jesus isn’t the answer? What if He is the question?

Posted by UrL at June 6, 2006 | Comments (33) | TrackBack

June 1, 2006

Beyond Bodies, Bucks, and Bricks: Jim Collins on how churches should measure success

Dallas Willard has said that most churches are not intending to produce disciples, but increase their ABC’s—attendance, buildings, and cash. Dave Terpstra, pastor of The Next Level Church in Denver and regular contribut-Ur, believes many church leaders focus on these tangible measurements of success because they are simply easy to quantify. In recent months, Terpstra and his elders have been stretched to think differently about discerning ministry success by reading Jim Collins’ advice to non-profit organizations. The respected author of Good to Great believes churches and businesses must evaluate success differently.

Jim Collins recently wrote a monograph to accompany his best-selling book “Good to Great” where he examines the application of his book in the social sectors. He was also interviewed on the subject of his monograph for the current issue of Leadership.

In both the monograph and his interview Collins emphasized the importance of being disciplined as an organization in defining goals and assessing results. But the most intriguing aspect of Collins’ work is what he suggests true goals and results for not-for-profits should be (and should not be).

Quickly after entering church leadership, most individuals realize that churches find value in the intangibles. Whereas businesses exist to make money for their shareholders, churches and other not-for-profits exist for something else. Collins suggests that one of the biggest mistakes those of us in the social sector make is to follow the business sector in thinking that money is a goal or output of our church.

Quickly after entering church leadership, most individuals realize that churches find value in the intangibles. Whereas businesses exist to make money for their shareholders, churches and other not-for-profits exist for something else. Collins suggests that one of the biggest mistakes those of us in the social sector make is to follow the business sector in thinking that money is a goal or output of our church.

According to Collins, money is only an input in the social sector, not an output. In other words, we need capital and other resources to carry out our work. But increasing capital is not the point of our work…or is it? How are we supposed to define success in the church?Even more to the point, how are we supposed to measure success in the church?

The three most measurable “products” of church communities are bodies, bucks and bricks. It doesn’t take long in church leadership to begin to compare your ministry to others. And whether right or wrong, we all evaluate our churches relative to other churches. I believe every church leader asks these sorts of questions: Are more people coming in the door? Are we able to find a place for them to sit and a place to take care of their kids? Are we growing financially so that we can expand our programs to serve them?

No doubt you have probably heard the maxim before that every church is an organism. Every organism that isn’t growing is dying. But as Collins suggests, there is more to growth in the not-for-profit world than the tangibles.

Simply growing the number of bodies, bucks and bricks at our church isn’t the answer. I hope you already know that. But how do we define and assess the intangibles?

Collins gives an example of the Cleveland Orchestra. They defined their success according to three seemingly unassessable goals: superior performance, distinctive impact, lasting endurance. However, Collins demonstrates how they were able to assess their ability to meet their goals even though they seemed intangible.

Although most of the assessments the orchestra used dealt directly with intangible aspects of their goals, some of the measurements they used involved bodies, bucks and bricks. The orchestra asked questions like: Was their an increased demand for tickets? Did supporters donate more time and money? Did the endowment increase?

Although I agree with Collins’ statement that resources are not goals but simply inputs into our churches, it seems to me that even according to Collins, bodies, bucks and bricks have to factor into our assessment of our churches. Perhaps there is truth to the growing or dying organism analogy. But something in me doesn’t want there to be. Somewhere inside of me wants to believe that attendance can be going down and God might still be blessing our community. I want to believe that giving can be decreasing but lives could still be changed.

But somewhere else inside of me knows that decreases to bodies, bucks and bricks are probably not typical signs of health for church communities. So the question we have to ask ourselves is: how should church leaders define success?

Posted by UrL at June 1, 2006 | Comments (30) | TrackBack