Tag Archives: Leadership

Kodak, Hirsch, and the Future of the Church by James Petticrew

Over a shop on the little island of Gozo in the Mediterranean where we often go on holiday is a faded yellow sign which is a monument to one of the biggest and most unexpected bankruptcies in recent corporate history. It reads KODAK. Kodak, remember them? Up until the end of the last century most of us would have owned a Kodak camera at some time in our lives and probably, whatever camera we had ,the likelihood is that it would have Kodak film inside and would be printed onto Kodak photographic paper. Kodak was a corporate giant that dominated its industry. Now just about all that remains are faded signs in out of the way places. So what went wrong?

Futurist Dr. Bob Goldman describes the demise of Kodak like this ….

In 1998, Kodak had 170,000 employees and sold 85% of all photo paper worldwide. Within just a few years, their business model disappeared and they went bankrupt. What happened to Kodak will happen in a lot of industries in the next 10 years – and most people don’t see it coming. Did you think in 1998 that three years later you would never take pictures on paper film again? Yet digital cameras were invented in 1975. The first ones only had 10,000 pixels, but followed Moore’s law. So as with all exponential technologies, it was a disappointment for a long time, before it became way superior and got mainstream in only a few short years.

The demise of Kodak, when you think about it, happened because its leadership kept carrying out its mission in the ways that had been successful in the past and realized too late that digital photography was going to take over the market and their film and photographic paper was appealing to an ever-shrinking section of the population, those really serious photographers who wanted the look it created and those older people who didn’t want the newfangled digital stuff and would stick to the their box brownie.

I remember at least 10 years ago Alan Hirsch passionately warning church leaders, as he still does, that they were making the same mistake as the directors of Kodak. What I mean by that is they were persevering with a form of mission which, whilst it had been successful in the past, was destined to appeal to an ever-shrinking section of the population. Here’s how I think the Kodak catastrophe is being played out in the church in the West right now.

Basically, the church in “Christendom mode,” the church that had operated in a culture which had some sort of Christian “home field advantage” carried out its mission predominately by reaching out to the so-called “fringe” around the congregation. As a newly minted pastor in the 1990s I followed my training and the advice I got from church growth books of the time and made my prime focus in mission those who came for my church for “hatches, matches and dispatches” – people who approached us for religious “services” and so were at least open to coming to church.

Around the turn of the century I attended a Purpose Driven Church conference in sunny California and was urged by Rick Warren to focus my efforts in evangelism on moving people from the crowd (the fringe) into the congregation. That strategy worked in the U.S. and to an extent in the UK; the problem is that its success was like the corporate success in 1998 for the Kodak corporation: it hid the upcoming technological tsunami that would all but wipe out Kodak’s business model.

If you Google (who uses Yellow Pages these days? It was another company that didn’t see the technology tsunami coming) “civil celebrants” you’ll see numerous people offering to do secular versions of “hatches, matches and dispatches.” Ask any undertaker and they will tell you that the number of humanistic funerals are surpassing the number of religious funerals. This year in Scotland more people have been married in places as diverse as hotels and on the top of mountains than church buildings. As for “christenings,” for those who aren’t church members they are now rarer than a Scotland appearance in international football competition.

The problem as I see it is that in the face of this cultural tsunami, which is often described as “post-Christendom,” most church leaders are still acting like the directors of Kodak at the end of the 20th century. Fundamentally most established churches I know of are still committed to mission in the way that has been successful in the past, attracting the fringe of the church to attend events in the church building. The church now, like Kodak should have done over a decade ago, needs to face up to the fact we live in a changed and changing world. The stark truth is that the number of people seeking religious services from the church is becoming on a par with those who still prefer to use film and photographic paper rather than digital cameras on smart phones, that is, shrinking and probably soon all but gone.

The implications of this is that in the UK there are too many churches fishing in the shrinking pond of people who are still open to be attracted to church for that form of mission to be effective. The result is that congregations are having to become more and more competitive in attracting the diminishing number of people who are open to being attracted to church. I suspect this is why were are seeing growing numbers of “larger churches” if not megachurches in cities in the UK. It may also explain the success of the so called “megachurch franchises” like Hillsong and Saddleback which have sprung up and grown rapidly in London and other major European cities in the last decade. With the high profile, huge resources and training of their parent congregations these “franchises” can put on a better show than local smaller congregations and so are more successful at attracting those open to coming along to church. It seems to me evangelical churches in the UK are becoming increasingly like the fishermen of the North Sea: we are overfishing a diminishing stock, not of haddock, but of church fringe people, and the foreign megachurches and their clones are like the huge foreign factory trawlers; they fish more effectively and so will ultimately diminish the stock more quickly.

I had a conversation with the representative of a UK mission organization recently and he talked about how they were helping churches be more missional. When I questioned him further it was pretty clear what he meant by that was helping churches attract more people to their fringe who would eventually start attending church and hopefully eventually come to faith. To him “missional” meant being more committed to evangelism, being better at attracting unchurched people to church events, and of course we have just described the problem with that.

I doubt there is a more used and less understood word in the contemporary church than “missional.” Missional is not about being better at being Kodak in a digital photograph world. I don’t think anyone has done more to help the church understand what “being missional” is all about and is currently more frustrated by how the word is being used than Mike Frost. He writes in his book The Road to Missional:

My call and the call of many other missional thinkers and practitioners was not for a new way of doing church or a new technique for church growth. I thought I was calling the church to a revolution, to a whole new way of thinking and seeing and being followers of Jesus today. I now find myself in a place where I fear those robust and excited calls for a radical transformation of our ecclesiology have largely fallen on deaf ears. (p 16)

Mike Frost hits the nail bang on the head. Missional is not about new ways of doing church, better techniques for attracting those open to coming to church to actually walk through the church doors – it’s about a fundamentally different way of being church in a culture. I was walking around Motherwell recently, a bit of a down-in-the-heels Scottish town, when I saw a church building boarded up and decaying.

It reminded me of that Kodak sign in Gozo.

My prayer is that the current generation of church leaders would avoid the mistakes of the Kodak directors. That they would recognize that commitment to past successful methods in evangelism may be the biggest danger to effective contemporary mission and instead explore with the Spirit’s guidance what it means to be God’s people shaped by God’s mission in our world today.

How We Lead by Debra Wallace-Padgett

Lead Like Butler: Six Principles for Values-Based Leaders is a good read in
which authors Kent Millard and Judith Cebula define six dimensions of what Butler University athletes call “The Butler Way.” Being a former basketball player and serious sports fan, the nomenclature “The Butler Way” has caught my imagination.

Indeed this concept has inspired the North Alabama Conference Leadership Team to include in our Conference’s Ministry Action Plan a value we call “The North Alabama Way.” This value consists of the following six basic principles that guide how we do ministry in North Alabama.

Team matters.

Here in North Alabama, “team matters” is more than a catchy phrase. It is a way of functioning based on our understanding that: 1) God is our ultimate team leader, 2) we are stronger together than as individuals, and 3) teams are typically more generative than solo leaders.

Respond rather than react.

This is easier said than done, especially in the current cultural and church context! We are committed, though, to anticipating and responding to situations instead of reacting to them. This includes pushing the pause button when emotions are driving conversations; turning off the computer and iPhone instead of shooting off reactive emails, posts and tweets; and prayerfully considering the ideas of those who disagree with us.

What we do is of critical importance. How we do it is of equal importance.

Content, programs and doctrine are only part of the equation. How we deliver our message, live our lives, and handle situations can strengthen or diminish our actions and our witness for Christ.

The higher the expectations, the greater the outcome.

We have high expectations here in North Alabama. We expect our growing churches to continue growing and our declining churches to turn around. We envision spiritual leaders empowering life-giving congregations to transform the world. We anticipate that we will discover, develop and deploy more and more spiritual leaders to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. We look forward to God continuing to work through the North Alabama Conference to reach increasing numbers of people for Christ.

Move as quickly as we can and as slowly as we need to, for as long as it takes.

This “pacing” principle requires three qualities: a sense of urgency, the discipline to slow down when necessary, and the patience to keep on keeping on. Such pacing is an art that allows us to move forward together.

Follow the process and honor integrity at all levels of the system.

We acknowledge that we do not always get this principle right. However, when we realize that we have jumped steps or levels in our own processes and system, we are committed to self-correcting.

The Fallacy of a White Liberation Theology by Kevin Murriel

Each Sunday before I enter worship, Ms. Ruth holds my hands and prays for me. Ms. Ruth, or “Mama Ruth” as I affectionately call her, is a senior member of our church who happens to be a white woman. She grew up in the Cliftondale community and has remained a faithful member throughout the over 50 year history of our church. Ms. Ruth not only attends worship but nearly every Bible study, mission and fellowship event that our church hosts. In other words, she is all in.

But she also sticks out. She is easily noticed in a church full of black worshippers. Yet, she is a part of this beloved community of believers seeking to live out the Great Commission of Jesus Christ.

In recent weeks, I have had conversations with many of my white colleagues about white privilege. The ethos of these conversations hinges on the inarguable fact that because of a person’s skin color, they are afforded more equity in our culture.

To be honest, these conversations have not yielded much hope for better days to come.

There seems to be a shift in how many view the acknowledgment of their white privilege. For many, this acknowledgment is important and it appears liberating—to finally admit that “I am white, and I have privileges black people do not.” So strong is this ideology among many white church leaders, those in theological circles, and some in society, that it rings loudly of “White Liberation!” suggesting that acknowledging ones’ privilege has liberated the individual from the bondage of systems that work on their behalf.

This is a fallacy.

The thought hit me recently as I witnessed the insensible comments of Mr. Trump as he finally recanted his role in the “Birther” controversy regarding the citizenship of our already two-term black president. My thought, like many, was, “I suppose President Obama’s citizenship is now validated since a white man who could possibly become our next Commander-in-Chief has said so.”

This type of unintelligible and nescient language is what keeps our country in the pit of racial injustice and division. It also gives more breath to white privilege.

If I may go out on a ledge and state what most black people think each time we hear a white person say, “I am privileged and I feel guilty about it;” please do not insult the intelligence of black people by telling us what we already know, feel, internalize, live in, struggle with, fight against, tolerate, mourn over, protest about, march and die for. As if black people should give a philanthropic or ethical achievement award to every white person who feels liberated by the acknowledgment of their privilege.

And the timing of these comments makes them seem inauthentic. If it takes black blood to spill on the streets and unarmed black and brown people to die for white people to admit they are privileged, there is something seriously wrong with such a liberating theology.

Black people do not only struggle against racial profiling and injustice, we are unequal economically, professionally and institutionally—all of which relate directly to white privilege.

When a white man, who is a major party nominee for president states unashamedly that our black president (eight years later) was born in the United States without fear of reprimand or loss of support, he is operating in white privilege.

In the potent work of liberation theologian James Cone titled, The Cross and the Lynching Tree, he suggests that:

In the “lynching era,” between 1880 to 1940, white Christians lynched nearly five thousand black men and women in a manner with obvious echoes of the Roman crucifixion of Jesus. Yet these “Christians” did not see the irony or contradiction in their actions.

I argue that not much has changed today. I am concerned with the white Christian who can worship Jesus and not spend time with or get to the know the culture of Christians who are black.

I am concerned with the white Christian who in the same breath can acknowledge their privilege and condemn someone for peacefully protesting racial injustice wearing a football uniform while the national anthem plays.

I am concerned with the white Christian who wants to do something prophetic like telling other white people in their churches that they are privileged while at the same time only communing with white people.

I am concerned with the white Christian who has never been the minority for an extended period of time in any setting.

These are but the genesis of my concerns.

Yet I am truly concerned with the white Christian who thinks they are liberated by knowing they are white and privileged (which makes that privilege more dangerous).

The Lord revealed something unique the last time Ms. Ruth prayed for me. God asked me, “have you noticed that she never apologizes for being white or the horrendous history she is associated with because of her skin color? Have you noticed that she never acknowledges openly that she is privileged? Do you see how she hugs you and all the other black folks with whom she worships? Do you hear how she greets you with the words, ‘my pastor?’ Are you noticing how she sits and eats with you and wants to know more about your likes and dislikes?”

In that moment I received this revelation: She is not seeking liberation, she is modeling reconciliation through genuine love.

To my white brothers and sisters, focus less on explaining your privilege and start being in community with black people. Perhaps that is the best path towards the prophetic.

The Unreached Object by Elizabeth Glass Turner

Protestantism has hit a snag.

Catholics have their challenges, but it’s a very different set. The Orthodox church in its various forms has its disputes but remains largely unchanged.

North American Protestants have hit hard times, like an ecclesial version of the 2008 economic meltdown. We’ve printed Bible verses on magnets, screen printed t-shirts, run food pantries and epic VBS spectaculars, hashtagged our sermons – and overall, in the main, numbers are down, scandals occasionally rock prominent pulpits – if not of moral failure, of exhaustion and burnout – and everyone has a different perspective about why.

Which means we must be very careful about how we go about our mission, because across the country our faith community is in crisis. And crisis breeds desperation.

So these few thoughts aren’t on the why’s and wherefore’s of politics and theology other than as they may shape our attitudes while we attempt to go about ministry in the midst of a colossal, tectonic shift. When a shift of this magnitude occurs, it is tempting to:

A) Cling to the familiar and hold on for dear life

B) Take my Grandpa’s card-playing strategy, getting more and more desperate to get out of the hole and taking wild risks

C) Bail

Investors could probably capture this dynamic in economic terms. Some steadily play the long game, waiting for the system to settle itself down; the infamous day traders took high-risk, high-reward gambles; and there’s always someone who, like in the memorable It’s A Wonderful Life scene, lines up to get their money out of the bank. The tyranny of the urgent doesn’t always create space for careful deliberation. There is a crisis; we must act now; and certain leaders will tell us we must act this way or that way to navigate the crisis successfully.

So what is the mood – not in all, but in many – what is the mood in many congregations?

If we’re not growing, we’re dying.

We’re losing an entire generation.

How are we going to pay for that building project?

The church across town is really giving us stiff competition.

I feel dead inside and my superintendent has called three times about whether we’ll meet our apportionment.

One bad flu season could wipe out 80% of our biggest givers.

If I could really get this congregation going, I might get on the coaching circuit.

That’s just being honest.

So some congregations desperately cling to the rituals and routines – events you’ve always done, a calendar you’ve always observed, a strategy you’ve always employed. There’s risk of loss through attrition, but it’s slow and not too jarring, and in times of crisis overextension can be fatal, right? So keep your head down – even if your teeth are gritted and volunteers are getting discouraged.

Other congregations show desperation in other ways: your outreach gets a little frantic, your events are held with little or no explanation as to how they tie into mission, and visitors notice the tightness of the greeter’s eager handshake. There’s risk that you’ve lost your way, your identity, your distinct mission, but as long as the numbers stay up, you can tread water, right? So keep brainstorming, keep in perpetual motion – even if your outreach isn’t translating into discipleship and your focus is blurred.

Meanwhile, the last group usually isn’t made up of congregations: it’s made up of individuals. These are the people who, for one reason or another, bail. And boy, is this a growing group. Maybe you know one of these people. Maybe you are one of these people. You volunteered for years, you were a leader, but slowly you noticed that doing God’s work looked a lot like doing whatever program the latest pastor was enthusiastic about. You spent hours and money for The Vision, but after one too many blowups, or one too many events that bolstered a leader’s ego but didn’t necessarily seem to build the Kingdom of God, you were exhausted. Finally, you were done. You go to church occasionally but wince when greeters learn you have A Background In The Church because they’re quick to share they need volunteers…Sometimes you even sneak into the back of a Catholic service just to be anonymous, to be on the receiving end of ministry, to go somewhere friendly but not desperate.

Oh, American Protestants. You’ve published every version of the Bible possible, from Princess Bibles to Hunter Bibles to Bibles For The College Student, and you’re so tired. So very tired.

Listen, friends, our culture is in a huge seismic shift. I know you’re weary. I know you feel overwhelmed. I know sometimes in the middle of the grocery store your heart hammers and you fight away the panic while staring at a discount bin. There’s extraordinary pressure.

But no matter how you feel, people are not objects of your ministry.

They’re just not.

As soon as we start talking about zip codes or housing developments or suburbs or regions, we immediately have to exercise extraordinary caution, because while talking demographics can be helpful, people are not objects. And they are not the object of our outreach.

If bottoms in pews are a rung on your upward ladder, then buddy, you’re in the wrong business. That is the way of bickering disciples asking who will get the promotion, not the way of Jesus, who saw Zaccheus through the crowd, perched up in a tree. That is the way of the Pharisees, who objectified everyday people, not the way of Jesus, who fell asleep in the bottom of the boat. That is the way of the wretched Simon, who saw the gift of the Holy Spirit and asked for it so that he could make money off of it, not the way of Jesus, who healed ten guys but was only ever thanked by one.

Maturity means knowing how to be patient. It means knowing that you may invest in a relationship for years before a spiritual question ever comes up – if ever. It means praying for people by name for months, years, decades, knowing that their choices may cause them pain in the meantime. It means seeing people, not objects. You can control and herd objects. People are harder. And God may bless your ministry with extraordinary tipping-point breakthrough – or not. But you don’t get to control the outcome. Research, use common sense, learn about your “target demographic,” then push it all aside and ask God who God wants you to see with new eyes -really see. Because people are not objects.

Let’s trust that Christ will build his church, whether you run yourself ragged or finally take a vacation with your family.

Let’s trust that Christ will build his church, whether you can afford to helicopter the pastor onto the roof on Easter Sunday or you can only afford to repair the roof – after a special fundraising campaign.

Let’s trust that Christ will build his church, whether you flip pages of a hymnal or read words projected onto a screen.

Let’s trust that Christ will build his church, whether you feel insignificant or whether you’re in a spotlight of honor and praise.

Let’s trust that Christ will build his church, whether you wear vestments or jeans.

Let’s trust that Christ has given us everything we need to reach the unreached. Let’s trust that Christ didn’t see us as objects to be collected, but as people with sacred worth. Let’s trust that God is the same yesterday, today, and forever, no matter what new tech gadget we have to adapt to, no matter who is elected, no matter how effective our personal branding efforts are.

God, save us from the unreached object. Let us have eyes to see people, and to see them as you see them.

Money, Money, Money by James Petticrew

I can remember in Bible college getting a book about pastoral ministry which had a chapter entitled, “The Oh So Delicate Subject.” I turned to the chapter assuming it would contain some wisdom on preaching about sex, to find it was actually a chapter about money and asking for money for church. After many years of preaching I think that book was right; I can’t think of a more delicate and difficult subject to preach about than money – especially asking for money.

The difficulty surrounding talking about and asking for money in church probably stems from a couple of factors. Firstly, there are cultural factors at work. In our culture money, how much you have and how you use it are profoundly private matters and talking and asking about them feels like we are invading people’s privacy. Talking about money in the UK makes both the preacher and those listening feel very uncomfortable, so we tend to avoid the subject.

I think the other reason we tend to avoid talking about and asking for money is because we want to avoid guilt by association. We all know the scandals surrounding television evangelists and we recoil when we hear them greedily trying to fleece gullible people in Jesus’ name to fund their luxury lifestyles. In our determination to distance ourselves from these church charlatans all too often we avoid the subject of money at all. So in our attempt not to be seen as greedy money grabbers we end up being silent about money. The problem with our silence on money is that according to Scripture, money and our attitude to it is one of the most important indicators of the condition of people’s hearts. The danger of our silence is that if we ignore the subject of money, both the mission of the Kingdom of God and the spirituality of God’s people will ultimately be impoverished.

Over the decades that I have been a preacher, I have struggled with the subject about how to talk about and ask for money with integrity but clarity. Recently I found a little gem of a book by Catholic theologian and spiritual writer Henri Nouwen called The Spirituality Of Fundraising. It’s only 64 pages long, but this book has given me a better perspective on this subject than anything else I have read. I thought I’d share some quotes from Nouwen’s book to give you an insight into where he is coming from but mostly to encourage you to get a copy for yourself. If you are a preacher or involved in fundraising for the church or missions, you should have this book in your library. Nouwen’s book isn’t a “how to” book but rather a “why” book. It won’t give you strategies when it comes to fundraising and challenging people to give sacrificially, but it will show why you should and will give you more confidence to do so.

So here are some nuggets of inspiration from Nouwen:

“Fundraising is a very rich and beautiful activity. It is a confident, joyful and hope-filled expression of ministry. In ministering to each other, each from the riches that he or she possesses, we work together for the full coming of God’s Kingdom.”

“Fundraising is proclaiming what we believe in such a way that we offer other people an opportunity to participate with us in our vision and mission.”

“We will never be able to ask for money if we do not know how we ourselves relate to money. What is the place of money in our lives?”

“Are we willing to be converted from our fear of asking, our anxiety about being rejected or feeling humiliated, our depression when someone says, ‘No, I’m not going to get involved in your project’?”

“The Spirit of love says: ‘Don’t be afraid to let go of your need to control your own life. Let me fulfill the true desire of your heart.’”

“Fundraising is also always a call conversion. And this comes to both those who seek funds and those who have funds. Whether we are asking for money or giving money we are drawn together by God, who is about to do a new thing through our collaboration.”

“We must claim the confidence to go to a wealthy person knowing that he or she is just as poor and in need of love as we are.”

“I ask for money standing up, not bowing down because I believe in what I am about. I believe I have something important to offer.”

“We do not need to worry about the money. Rather, we need to worry about whether, through the invitation we offer them (the donor) and the relationship we develop with them, they will come closer to God.”

“When we give ourselves to planting and nurturing love here on earth, our efforts will reach beyond our own chronological existence.”

Lead Like Jesus by Otis T. McMillan

Have you ever faced a challenge so big that you were tempted to run from it? Fear invaded your thoughts when you looked at it, and you found yourself saying “there is no way I can do this”? If so, you are not alone. Moses and Gideon are just two of God’s leaders who wrestled with fear, and Abraham and Elijah wrestled with discouragement. If you struggle with either fear or discouragement, go ahead and run; just make sure you run in the right direction. If you run, run to the Father. Go quickly, fall on your knees, cast yourself on him, and call out to him for help. He is waiting for you.

“I call on the Lord in my distress, and he answers me.” (Psalm 120:1)

Are you content to have unfulfilled needs in your life? Most of us aren’t. We want enough for today, plus extra stored away for the future. Yet our longing for more than enough is often limited to what we can see and touch. Jesus told us that these things would never satisfy. He taught that only God can fulfill our most important needs, giving us a sense of security, identity, significance, and purpose.

These are essential needs for leaders. Only when we let God fill these core needs can we turn from our self-centered ways to lead like Jesus.

Consider the words of the Psalmist: “You, God, are my God, earnestly I seek you; I thirst for you, my whole being longs for you, in a dry and parched land where there is no water.” (Psalm 63:1)

What do you need in order to lead like Jesus today? Do you need strength? He sustains the universe. Do you need courage? His Spirit emboldens us to witness to him in word and action. Do you need confidence? Jesus triumphed over death. He is for you. He longs to empower you to live and lead like him. Receive his strength, courage, and confidence. Surrender to his Spirit. With open hands, receive the wisdom and guidance you need to lead like Jesus today.

Paul wrote, “I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe.” (Ephesians 1:18-19)

Lord Jesus, open our hearts and minds to understand who You are and who we are in You. May we turn to You for the insight and power we need to lead like You. In Your name we pray – Amen.

Leadership In The Wesleyan Way: Interview with Aaron Perry

Recently Wesleyan Accent spoke with Dr. Aaron Perry on Leadership in the Wesleyan Way, a volume he edited with Dr. Bryan Easley.

Wesleyan Accent: This summer, you and Bryan Easley published a 450-page collection of essays on “Leadership the Wesleyan Way: An Anthology for Forming Leaders in Wesleyan Thought and Practice.” It’s been praised by notable voices like Dr. Jo Anne Lyon and includes essays from familiar names like Lovett Weems, Will Willimon, Laceye Warner and…Calvinist Richard Mouw? Wait, how did you get him on board?

Aaron Perry: Often Wesleyan discomfort with Calvinism centers on double predestination without considering that there actually is much more to Calvinism. I heard Professor Mouw speak about holiness and Wesleyan thought at a gathering of graduate students in Indianapolis in 2014. Professor Mouw’s insight in terms of political theology would clearly help form Wesleyan values and effectiveness in mission and, as a result, leadership. I find this unique article a helpful appreciation and challenge of forms of revivalism and how it can be a help and hindrance to leaders. Yet, Dr. Mouw clearly appreciates the theology of a warmed heart and how personal transformation is vital to the leader’s effectiveness.

WA: What inspired you to collate thoughts particularly on leadership in the Wesleyan way, rather than to write a book on leadership and Wesleyanism? Why a collection; why leadership?

AP: I was preparing for my comprehensive exams for my PhD in Organizational Leadership. I envisioned a collection as getting the best of the preparation I was doing—having others write in their interests and strengths while I was studying! When people write in their strengths and interests, they often utilize their own experience, as well. During my doctoral work, I taught adult ministerial students. I encountered students who were bright, focused, and motivated, yet they were apprehensive about formal education. I saw an opportunity to combine scholarly work that would engage a variety of readers. We wanted a book that would help practitioners think and thinkers practice.

WA: How would you describe John Wesley’s leadership? How would you describe the impact of his theology on the practice of leadership?

AP: John Wesley modeled a deep connection between practice and reflection. One cannot be a Wesleyan and sit idle in the face of brokenness in the world. John Wesley’s leadership was intensely practical, aimed at making differences in the lives of everyday people. At the same time, Wesley’s leadership led to long-term strength through the bands, classes, and societies. Wesley’s belief in the whole gospel for the whole world had a deep impact on the wideness of leadership potential he saw in a variety of people.

WA: The book includes sections on “Wesleyan Leadership in the Postmodern World,” “Biblical and Theological Reflections,” “Historical Perspectives,” “Leadership Theory and Principles,” and “Leadership in Ministry.” Why do you think Wesleyan theology especially has resources to contribute to these discussions? Do you think Wesleyan contributions have been overlooked in the past?

AP: I am more convinced that Wesleyan theologians have something to say on the topic, beyond simply Wesleyan theology. There have been strong and important Wesleyan voices in the past, but the nature of leadership is that a new word is always being spoken in light of God’s ongoing activity in the world, building on established structures, tackling problems that could not have been tackled before, and engaging challenges that have not previously existed. Wesleyan theologians must speak from their roots and tradition, but while being aware of their own contexts—geographical, economic, cultural, etc. The result, I believe, is a variety of perspectives and emphases from a common tradition and set of values.

WA: Was there anything that surprised you both as you edited this collection-insights or reflections you didn’t anticipate? What did you learn about leadership in the Wesleyan way?

AP: I was not surprised by anything—by which I mean, I found what I expected to find: Wesleyan scholars and practitioners who had reflected deeply on the subject of leadership beyond quick-fixes or simple solutions, while at the same time with a deep appreciation for actionable insights. I found scholars who were deeply involved in the formation of persons into the image of Christ and were interested in leadership as it could facilitate the global parish vision. I was, however, pleasantly surprised at the way the book was received and promoted—and, of course, I hope that continues!

Dr. Aaron Perry is Assistant Professor of Christian Ministry and Pastoral Care at Wesley Seminary in Marion, Indiana. He is an ordained minister in The Wesleyan Church.

Servant Paul, Not Apostle Paul, in Philippians by Tom Fuerst

I’ve been studying Philippians recently, both because I continue to find myself attracted to the book for my own edification and because I intend to preach through it this summer. When I study like this I like to go segment-by-segment, studying each line in detail, in the original languages, and in the context of the larger segment and the whole of the book. It’s part my Inductive Bible Study training and part just that I’m a nerd.

When you look closely at the first few verses of Philippians, something quite unique stands out fairly quickly:

Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus,

To all the saints in Christ Jesus who are in Philippi, with the bishops and deacons.

You’ll notice that Paul does not refer to himself as an apostle.

This is strange by its absence because his apostolic credentials are a prominent part how Paul identifies himself nearly everywhere else:

Romans 1: Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God…
I Corinthians 1: Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and our brother Sosthenes…
II Corinthians 1: Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and Timothy our brother…
Galatians 1: Paul an apostle—sent neither by human commission nor from human authorities, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father, who raised him from the dead…
Ephesians 1: Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God…
Colossians 1: Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and Timothy our brother…
I Timothy 1: Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the command of God our Savior and of Christ Jesus our hope…
II Timothy 1: Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, for the sake of the promise of life that is in Christ Jesus…
Titus 1: Paul, a servant of God and an apostle of Jesus Christ…

The only other of his letters where he doesn’t claim apostleship is I and II Thessalonians and his brief letter to Philemon.

Many commentators suggest the reason Paul doesn’t appeal to his apostleship in Philippians is because he was on such good terms with them. He didn’t have to “pull rank” by appealing to his apostleship to get them to obey him or recognize his authority. This answer seems to have some merit, especially when you consider that in Galatians and I Corinthians, Paul is arguing against persons who are distorting the gospel he has preached or people who are questioning his apostolic credentials.

But should those controversies be read in a reverse sort of way onto Philippians? Should we assume the lack of defensiveness is the primary reason Paul doesn’t appeal to his apostleship? I don’t think so. After all, Paul has some major eschatological issues to set right with the Thessalonians – a setting in which it would be perfect to wield his apostolic title – yet he doesn’t refer to his apostleship. The same goes for his letter to Philemon – Paul could have appealed to his apostolic authority to get Philemon to welcome Onesimus back home and treat him like a brother, but he doesn’t (indeed, he even goes out of his way to note to Philemon that he doesn’t appeal to him in an authoritative way: vs. 18). Further, if Paul does not appeal to his apostolic credentials merely because he’s on friendly terms with the local church, then why does he need to remind Timothy twice of his apostleship? Timothy is Paul’s closest companion we’re aware of.

Of course, none of this denies that Paul’s friendship with the Philippians is a factor. Of course it is! But I don’t think it’s the only thing to consider. It seems to be the relational context of his reason for not appealing to his apostleship, but there are other immediate and book-as-whole contextual factors to consider as well.

Overseers and Deacons

The first reason Paul may not appeal to his apostolic credentials (in the context of a friendly, supporting church) is because Paul is deferring to the authority and leadership of the “overseers and deacons” within the church. He doesn’t have to appeal to his authority or his credentials with this church because the faithfulness of the church (as shown in their continued financial support of him while in prison) is the product of good leadership. He can defer to their authority, thus further giving credence to their pastoral leadership. Again, the context of this is his friendship, but the reason for it goes beyond friendship to the fact that this is a healthy church led by healthy leaders. He’s not writing to set anything right, but to thank them for their righteous conduct. On some level, I imagine Paul knows people are enamored with him and his authority, so by showing himself to be a servant, and by supporting the existing leadership of the church, he shows that the overseers and deacons – those who live life with them on a daily basis – are the true leaders of the local church, not a guy who just shows up every few years to encourage them.

Incarnating the Christ Hymn

The context of the Christ Hymn in Philippians 2:1-11 calls the Philippians to follow the example of Christ, who did not cling to his own privilege and status, but rather, laid those things down to die on the cross. This laying aside of privilege and status for the cross turns out to be the precursor to lordship and resurrection.

The point of Paul’s quotation of this ancient hymn is not purely theological, but practical – that they may regard each other as better than themselves as they see in the hymn, Paul’s own example, and the example of Timothy and Epaphroditus (the rest of chapter 2). In the end, these multiple examples, particularly that of Christ, ask the Philippians to consider a new kind of authority, leadership, and power – an authority, leadership, and power that does not cling to its privilege and status, but is willing to lay down all of its credentials in order to die and resurrect.

By calling himself a “servant of Christ” he’s making a direct thematic connection with the “servant Christ” he references in Philippians 2. By not appealing, then, to his apostolic authority or credentials and referring, instead, to his servant status, Paul models the very heart of his letter to the Philippians. If Christ did not cling to his credentials and privilege, why should Paul? Why should the Philippians?

Yes, of course, none of this can be separated from his friendship with the Philippians and his long history with them, all of which comes into play in the larger context of Philippians. But you also cannot disregard the immediate context and the explicit things repeated throughout the letter.

For those reasons I think Paul has no need to cite his apostolic credentials, but rather lays them aside to promote and encourage the leadership of the “overseers and deacons” and also incarnate that which Christ incarnated when he laid aside his glory and took on a human body, dying a human death, and resurrecting to glory.

Church Growth: Fruitful Or Cancer?

Today’s post is a compelling piece written anonymously by a successful pastor.

The Ideology of a Cancer Cell

I rarely have those moments I would unquestioningly call, “divine.” I’ve never been one to see the fingerprints of God on everything around me. So when something happens in my life that just seems divinely orchestrated, I have to latch on to it.

The other day I was sitting in Chik-Fil-A, eating my #1 with no pickles, sipping my Coke Zero, and reading my new Eugene Peterson book, The Pastor. As I read, sometimes challenged, sometimes encouraged, sometimes disagreeing, and sometimes annoyed with Peterson, I looked over and saw a young lady at the table next to me. She had a baseball cap on with a small, round pin clipped to the side. I’m sure I looked rather stalker-ish trying to read the small print from 7 feet away, but the effort was worth the risk. Her pin read, “Growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of a cancer cell.”

The pin had no logo. Just the words. I have no idea exactly what it was protesting. But because I’m a pastor, it didn’t take long for me to think of the church and how I, and many of my fellow pastors, see church growth as an end in itself.

After reading the pin and being prompted to thought by its vivid verbiage, I then looked down at my book once again. Where I’d left off before staring at the other patron’s head, Peterson had just written a letter to one of his friends who was leaving his church to pursue the greener pastures of a bigger church. Peterson wondered, in his letter, if the guy hadn’t just been enamored with the idea of a big church and had not been sufficiently enamored with simply being a pastor. So when my eyes went back to the page, this is where Eugene picked up – and I think you can see from this why I think I was having a divine moment:

“He accepted the call to the big church, and then another, and then another. I would get occasional reports on him from friends. All the reports seemed to document that size was turning out to be a false transcendence in his life. Meanwhile, the momentum of what was being termed church growth was gathering. All of us in the Company agreed it was misnamed. It was more like church cancer – growth that was a deadly illness, the explosion of runaway cells that attack the health and equilibrium of the body.”

If I can have a moment of critical reflection before anything else – I honestly do find Peterson’s comments here a bit condescending and extreme. I’m sure he knows his friend and probably something of his friend’s motivation, but not everyone who goes to a bigger church does so for self-centered glory. I do not believe either big church or small churches are the solution to the American church’s major problems. If you’ve ever spent much time in a small church, you know not to sentimentalize them any more than people who have seen the sausage made in big churches can consider them all bunnies and sunshine. Both are filled with finite, sinful human beings. Neither should be held up as the ideal – after all, Acts 2 records a church of 2,000 on the day of Pentecost, and some of Paul’s letters were probably written to small churches meeting in houses. Both are acceptable New Testament models. Both have strengths and weaknesses. I think Peterson is too hard on big churches in The Pastor. I think he’s too easy on small churches.

But he’s probably not entirely wrong about the church growth movement that drives big churches. I can probably point to other people I’ve known, other ministers and pastors, but I think it’s mostly appropriate to talk about myself. There is something grand and exhilarating about growing a church. It’s in some ways validating to the pastor, his/her preaching skills, and general likeability. There’s a kind of energy (often confused with the Holy Spirit, I think) in a room full of worshipers that is contagious and addicting. For these reasons, it can be really easy for me to focus on and find my satisfaction, not in changed lives, but in simple numbers. Church growth. Attendance. Butts in seats.

I know I can’t be the only one who struggles with the temptation to find my satisfaction and identity in church attendance because we have entire conferences pastors pay lots of money to attend simply designed to tell us how to make our churches get bigger.

When pastors lament the waning of the American church, what we are often really lamenting is a declining attendance. Our complex metrics and statistics tell us all kinds of things about church attendance trajectories and predictions, but few of us have thought through adequate and objective ways to evaluate whether or not our congregants are taking up their crosses. Some churches even hire pastors based on whether they think the pastor can make the church grow numerically. Pastors like me can even get caught up in it, thinking we’ve “arrived” because the numbers are the primary indicators of our talents. Then we secretly compare the size of our church with that of our colleagues – the fallout of which is, ehem, a bit of steeple envy.

At some point in wrestling with my own gauges of success, I wonder, to what end are we growing? Why exactly am I excited that my church or my service is growing at a high rate? Am I obsessed with growth simply for growth’s sake? How big is big enough for me? Am I just building bigger and bigger barns to store more and more people but caring only in a lip-service way for the development of their souls, bodies, minds, and societies in the image of Christ? And is there ever a time when church growth might be contrary to the kingdom of Christ? If so, how would we know?

Again, don’t get me wrong – I don’t have a problem with big churches in themselves. I work in a big church. Given the right structures for relationships, personalization, humanization, and discipleship, big churches can be really healthy manifestations of the gospel. They can be salt and light. They can most certainly witness to the gospel in their towns and around the world. So, no, big churches are not the problem. And to that end, I’ve also been in churches of 30 people that were obsessed with the attendance they didn’t have. But at the same time, whether the church is large or small, pastors can still have that greedy, cancerous voice in our head that wants us to value church numerical growth over church spiritual growth. That cancer whispers in our ears of the glory that could be ours if the sanctuary had 3,000 people instead of 300, or 300 instead of 30. At every level these sirens cry out for the pastor’s attention, and I fear for myself and many of my colleagues that we will find ourselves shipwrecked there if we are not careful.

When we take an honest look at the Bible, church growth as an end in itself does not seem to be something Jesus seems manifestly concerned with. Jesus had several opportunities to grow his numbers, but instead he sent the crowds away. He had no problem letting people walk away who could not give up their possessions (something almost no church growth experts would recommend, I expect). He had no problem angering the Pharisees, even though he knew that if he got them on his side he would gain the average-Joe population with them.

Of course, no pastor – myself included – has the guts to say, “I don’t care about making disciples; I only care about making my church bigger.” We don’t want to think of ourselves as having the “ideology of a cancer cell.” Every one of us is, in theory, willing to let people walk away. Every one of us is, in theory, willing to suffer the loss of audience for the sake of the gospel.

But how often does this really happen in practice?

Be honest. Don’t just attribute the decline in attendance to “the gospel” when it could have been your bad preaching or the cliques in your church. Be honest. How many times have any of us actually lost people because of the call to take up a cross and deny self?

This is what makes me wonder about my motivation. This is why I wonder if we have somehow missed the point. Look, if you want to gain a crowd, serve some coffee and have a giant pizza party. You don’t need Jesus for that. Some Papa Johns should do the trick. But if your objective in ministry is to make disciples of Jesus Christ, church growth may be a natural corollary to that mission, but it is not an end in itself. And therefore we pastors – the royal “we” by which I mean “I” – need to be much more in tune with our motivations, measuring methods, and the things we celebrate with our staff and congregation.

Since we pastors struggle to grapple with this question in a self-reflexive kind of way, I’d like to just pose a few questions to help us see whether or not we desire growth for the sake of growth or if our growth is really kingdom oriented.

When you evaluate the success of the Sunday morning service (or any ministry of your church) is your first question, “How many people attended?”
Do you find yourself envious of pastors with bigger churches? Or judgmental toward pastors of smaller churches?
Have you ever said something you thought might lose you a percentage of your congregation, but you knew you needed to say it to be faithful to the gospel? Or did you shy away from it for fear of slipping attendance or making people upset?
When you consider the measureable goals you have for your church this year, how many of them are attendance based or financial? How many of them concretely gauge whether or not true discipleship and life change is happening in your congregation?
Do you spend as much time and energy thinking about how to get people into deep relationships with each other and Jesus as you do how to get them in the door week after week?
Is your self-esteem as a pastor in any way connected to how many people attended church last Sunday? If there had been fewer people, would you have felt like a failure? If there had been more people, would you have felt like more of a success?
When you think about the future of your church, do you primarily dream in terms of more attendees, more services, more programs, and more visitors, or do you think in terms of more relationships, more disciples, and deeper connection to Christ?
Comparatively, what do you spend most of your time doing? Praying for your Sunday morning services or planning how to get people to come/return?
If a neutral party were to anonymously ask your staff, “Does your pastor care more about church growth in attendance or church growth in connection to Jesus” what would your staff say? Why would they say it?
When you celebrate your staff, do you celebrate their numerical victories in regards to attendance at their events, or do you celebrate the concrete discipleship and relationships they built and fostered?
Have you ever been willing to send someone to another church because you think they would fit in better there? – in other words, do you think kingdom growth is more important than your local church’s growth?
Deep down in your heart, when you’re honest with God about your motivations, do you have a sinful desire to grow the church big for the sake of growing the church big (and all the reputation and frills that come along with that), or do you want to see God’s kingdom grow, even if that means shrinking attendance at your church?

I ask you all these questions because these are the questions I must ask myself. I love preaching to a full room. I love it when people respond to my preaching and my ministry. I love looking at the spreadsheet every Monday morning and seeing how much our congregation has grown in the last two years. A certain amount of my identity is wrapped up in that growth. It’s tempting to keep chasing it.

And I know it’s tempting for you, too. But are you willing to acknowledge that this exists in your heart? And what are you willing to do to shift gears, change what you value, and see church growth (or non-growth) in light of God’s kingdom values? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to have the ideology of a cancer cell. I want to have healthy growth, which may or may not look like the image we’ve been sold at conferences, by consultation groups, or even by our peers.

Leadership Qualities That Can’t Be Faked by Elizabeth Glass Turner

Leadership is a tricky subject.

I had a great college professor who modeled it, taught it, instilled it, and theorized about it (only a rare person can do all of those things). He posed a question: are you born with leadership abilities, or are they learned? (A probable admittedly false dichotomy, to be sure, but a great way to think about how one gains the qualities of leadership.)

Rather late to the party, I watched the painfully exquisite Band of Brothers miniseries (2001), a carefully rendered tribute to a deep slice of modern history. “Band of Brothers” follows American paratroopers who served in Europe in WWII. The men were real, the stories are real, it all really happened – a fact which shakes me. It ought to shake all of us.

I’m in a generation that’s extraordinarily cynical about leaders, largely because of scandal in every sector and at every level of public life. A President misuses power in the Oval Office, Catholic priests are brought up on charges around the world, Congressmen and Governors accidentally Tweet explicit photos or try to sell Senate seats, Bernie Madoff bilks millions, star athletes admit to doping, unarmed Black men are strangled and shot in the back by police officers, 40% of North American pastors surveyed admit to using pornography. The development of the internet means we don’t learn of things slowly – we’re bombarded by information almost as soon as something happens.

Whether or not it’s fair, integrity isn’t assumed. Lack of integrity is.

It is assumed there’s a dichotomy in your life between image and reality – an Instagram filter, if you like. Everyone knows you take 20 selfies to get one good one, right? So the Sunday morning you – why would I assume that’s the real “you”?

There’s good news and bad news. The good news is that the world desperately needs strong leaders. Leaders won’t have to go busking on street corners with their guitars for loose change. Additionally, the good news is that there are still strong leaders in the world.

The bad news is that it costs. Additionally, the bad news is that many strong leaders don’t get much recognition.

Here are a few of the leadership qualities that can’t be faked. The hard part is answering whether you and I are willing to be the real deal, when a Photoshopped head shot is so much faster and easier.

You can’t fake sacrifice.

You can fake generosity, though. But real sacrifice – real sacrifice – isn’t faked. Usually only a few people know about it. When someone talks too readily about themselves and their sacrifices, watch out: often, real sacrifice is learned of from and through others.

To take the battlefield imagery alluded to above, you can fake generosity by offering to do something you were already signed up to do. But you can’t fake the sacrifice of offering to go on a patrol so someone else can rest or sharing the last of your supplies.

If you’re not willing to sacrifice regularly and quietly, don’t be surprised when people follow you when you’re successful but abandon you when the going gets tough.

You can’t fake humility.

False humility is visible a mile away. False humility still finds a way to put other people down privately and publicly. False humility asks followers to do things the leader isn’t willing to do. False humility gets mean at perceived slights. False humility goes hand in hand with a strong self-protective instinct. It sees humility as a social tool rather than a quality of Jesus Christ.

Real humility is comfortable with confidence – in the right things. Real humility doesn’t take potshots at others in order to masquerade as wisdom. Real humility leads from the front and picks up the cleaning rag first, not last. Real humility means a mild response when someone insults you. Real humility puts self-preservation to death.

You can’t fake consistency.

This doesn’t mean glossing over temperamental differences and personality traits. It does mean that whether you discipline yourself to become knowledgeable about property insurance or Greek verbs, the latest studies on PTSD or the life of Bonhoeffer, you see discipline and consistency as qualities that allow you to serve others better when the moment arises.

Or as Major Dick Winters put it (portrayed in “Band of Brothers,” he fought at Normandy, in Holland, and at the Battle of the Bulge), “war exposes the best and worst of those who are called to fight. I know of no man who lacked character in peace and then discovered his character in combat.”

There are very few leadership qualities that can’t be faked. You and I both know that real leadership costs something – and that every newly elected President of the United States who has worked hard to prove him or herself a worthy leader finds out quickly just what it costs to be one of the leaders of the free world.

What leadership qualities are you tempted to skate by on? What leadership qualities are valued by your peers? Do your peers value apparent leadership qualities easier to counterfeit or do they value less-apparent qualities harder to fake?

We want to follow Jesus Christ faithfully – don’t we?

After all – we live in a shell-shocked, battle-weary world.

Are we willing to raise a hand?

“Here am I…

send me.”