Many leadership books focus on the act of leading, as though by sheer will, one can create success with no unanticipated outside interference. Anyone who has ever been in a position of leadership, however, knows this isn’t true. There are dozens of things that can come out of nowhere and derail your efforts toward reaching your goals. In his excellent new book Expecting the Unexpected, JD Pearring catalogs eighteen of these actions, feelings and events that we do well to be looking out for. He talks about anticipating these things as you go about your leadership duties, but the book is also useful in hindsight as you reflect on ways that each of us could have handled these negative influences better.
JD combines personal anecdotes, stories and scripture to structure each chapter. From these, he offers several ways to deal with the unexpected as it comes. The option to give up, quit, surrender, etc. is mostly missing from his suggested actions. Instead, by applying scripture to each type of event, leaders are encouraged to overcome in the best moments, or endure with faith in the more challenging instances. The Big Challenge conclusions to each chapter range in application from simple [don’t quit] to character challenging [serve in obscurity]. Depending on your situation, some will be more helpful than others.
Take some encouragement. It is out there for you.
JD Pearring
Expecting is a book to keep on a lower shelf for reference in the future. You may not be experiencing discouragement (now), but chances are you will at some point. Pull the book out, turn to chapter(s) on discouragement (and smears and complaining and fools and so on) and let JD’s wisdom get you back on track. This is a good book for new leaders who have yet to experience these troubles, as well as more seasoned leaders who have seen them all. I plan to use this material in coaching relationships with renewal leaders who often find themselves overwhelmed by these negative effects on the health of their church, as well as negatively affecting their leadership. Don’t miss this book.
Joy Rises with the Easter Sunrise || Warren Rachele
[Originally published in the Times-News during the Time of Covid, 2020]
Easter is a holiday marked by stark contrasts. The pastel pinks and sunny yellows of the springtime celebration feel out of place against the deep crimson and shadows of Good Friday. The sadness, despair and horror of the passion of Jesus give way to the elated celebration of Resurrection Sunday. Happiness and joy have similar contrast, though they are often spoken of as having the same meaning. The happiness of a beautiful Easter sunrise can be swept away by a snowstorm the following Monday. In contrast, joy that is anchored in the Easter miracle is lifelong and stands up to these storms of life. Americans are fond of quoting the Declaration’s promise regarding the “pursuit of happiness”, recognizing the ongoing desire of the heart but also, the elusive, sometimes fleeting nature of that emotion. What people really want, even if they can’t put it into words, is joy. Joy that is not easily stripped away and this is the joy of Easter, the joy of Grace.
If a poll were taken, the results would probably show that everyone wants to be happy. People throughout history have chased happiness in countless forms. Some find it in things, some find it in experiences and others still find happiness in relationships. But once found, can happiness be kept? Can this emotion be protected from the changes in life or are people looking for the wrong thing? Perhaps, rather than settling for momentary happiness, what their heart needs is the state of being joyful.
In our talking with one another people often use the words happiness and joy to mean the same thing. Though similar, feelings of happiness are generally controlled by what’s going on in life at any moment. If things are going great, happiness follows. If things take a turn and troubles become the norm, happiness can fade quickly into unhappiness. The heart wants something more stable, something that is not bound to the way things appear at any given moment. The heart wants joy.
The heart wants joy because it’s a windbreak against the storms of life; the storm will still pass over, but its effect will be less severe. Joy is anchored to a foundation of long-term contentment. The foundation results from having faith in something unchanged by day to day circumstances. A person who has this faith faces the darkest of dark moments and says, “this too shall pass.” Joy is built on this faith. Joy rests on belief that even if a storm doesn’t pass anytime soon, there is still confidence in the solid rock on which it stands. People who have joy trust in the way things are going to work themselves out.
Easter lays the foundation for people to know joy. Understanding Easter begins with the contrast of Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Jesus was crucified on Good Friday and it appeared that all the evil of the world had been revealed in that moment. The crucifixion gave the appearance that all hope was lost to even his closest followers. The happiness they felt from the promises they had seen in him was swept away. In their sadness they scattered, each looking for a new way to be happy again.
When Jesus rose on that Sunday morning, joy rose with him. His unhappy followers were the first to discover the truth of joyfulness. They learned that what had appeared to be defeat and snatched their happiness was something far greater, something eternal. Jesus was restored to life and he put all the momentary promises into the perspective of history. His followers were given an intimate demonstration of the contrasting natures of happiness and joy. While things might’ve been dark for a moment in their lives, the eternal promises of redemption assured their joy in both the rain and the sunshine.
The promise of joy is as true today as it ever has been. The joy of Easter is woven into the promise of redemption, of all things being made right. Jesus is the centerpiece of things being made right, his death making it possible for the restoration to proceed. The empty grave of Easter morning assures us that restoration is proceeding as planned. Joy, indivisibly welded to that truth, sustains through a day or two of trouble or a thousand nights of darkness. Happiness is fragile and positive thinking might maintain it for a day or a week, but if there is not the peace of deep-held joy, happiness will eventually turn to sadness. The deepest, darkest red of the crucifixion cannot strip the joy of belief that the bright sun of everything being made right is held in place by the eternal promises of Easter morning.
Reverend Warren Rachele is the pastor of Hope Community Church in Paul, Idaho.
I recently took The Divine Conspiracy off my shelf to look up a reference for a project I was working on. I read the paragraphs I was searching for, then the surrounding pages, and then the full chapter—context, of course—and to my delight, I found a new book in my hands. Captivated by Willard, I reread the book in its entirety, and found that it was not the same volume I had read better than twenty years ago. Had the text changed in the shelf-bound years? Obviously not. Rather, as Heraclitus once opined, I was not the same person. I wonder now, what other wisdom awaits on these shelves?
“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he is not the same man.”
Heraclitus
Reading anything more than once today is a radical idea. The firehose of electronic communication, our ever-growing to-be-read piles of books (nearly 100 as I look over) and our bias toward the new makes the practice of rereading the stuff of fantasy. This may or may not be an accurate observation, but, if it is, we’re poorer for it. As the philosopher said, we are not the same people when we return to a book 20 years later, let alone two weeks later. Our thinking affected by what we read, we have lived life in the intervening period. To return to an author’s work is to have tested their theses, applied their suggestions, lived their propositions or, to the contrary, ignored them altogether. Either way, we’re now able to agree or disagree, take out our pencils and argue in the margins, perhaps even decide to remove the book from our library.
“Master those books you have. Read them thoroughly. Bathe in them until they saturate you. Read and reread them…digest them. Let them go into your very self.”
Charles Spurgeon
Willard’s book was one of many that I have reread a second and third time in the past couple of years. When I first read it, I found it difficult to understand and, fitting my level of spiritual maturity, I couldn’t apply it. The reading process for me was to read it, say that I had read it and watch the dust cover spine fade on my bookshelf. I knew the book was important—because my seminary professors told me it was—but it was not important to me. I had no ability to interact deeply with Willard’s vision of our participation in The Kingdom Among Us.
Two decades later, however, the prose that I had once merely consumed was now something to be savored. I aligned with the author’s views on the kingdom gospel. I had wrestled with the biblical texts he referred to, built up the stamina and muscles needed to hold most of the points of his discussion in mind as I worked to understand his conclusions. I was a more mature disciple now, ready for the meat, having grown on the milk of my earlier years. No longer was I the same person who opened the cover and I am, even now, a different person, having reread the book again before returning to its spot amongst the others occupying the shelf.
For the past few years, I’ve made it an annual tradition to publish my reading list from the previous year. These lists have averaged around 90 books each, with an increasing number of rereads a part of those lists. The value of rereading is tempering my pace thus far in the current year as I slow down to interact more with the authors and their ideas. Marginalia and pencil lines are more common now, as are literature notes and summaries in Evernote. Fewer and better seems to be my new reading style, trading a high book count for a more engaged interaction with books of value.
Many a thoughtful reading has shed new light on other older volumes. Time spent with John Franke and Darrell Guder opened up my older books by Roxborough and Hirsch for me; Scot McKnight brought Jeff Vanderstelt off the shelf for a gospel conversation. Growing spiritual maturity and a developing recall of what I’ve read spur on this relational cycle of growth. The flood of published books urges us to consume and shelve, but is this rapid turnover leaving us undernourished? Might we grow more by an intentionally slower style of rereading and engaging? Let me study the question some more.
[Originally published in the Times-News in the Time of Covid, 2020]
Hope is an optimistic outlook that is tested every single day. Hope sustains people and gives meaning to life. Hope, true hope, is not wishful thinking. Rather, it is a trust based on unchanging truth and this hope will not falter. This is the hope that accompanies the first glimmer of sunrise on Easter morning.
For the groups big and small that had followed Jesus into Jerusalem in the week of his passion, the crucifixion gave the sense that all hope was lost. The Messiah was dead and destined for a borrowed tomb. His followers, no doubt recounting the many thoughts they held about him, didn’t know what to believe. The hope of many of these followers turned out to be little more than wishful thinking when the Messiah Jesus did not fulfill their preconceived notions. Doubt plagued them and hopelessness crushed them.
When the sun broke the darkness on Easter morning and a tiny group of his followers approached the tomb, hope was reignited. Jesus was not in the tomb, an angelic agent giving the incredible news that the Lord had risen. Hope had risen. Not hope that was based on wishful thinking or far-fetched scenarios but hope that was now anchored to eternal promises and unbreakable. This was the hope of Easter.
The hopelessness that plagues our world today, especially among the vulnerable young, is caused by hope in things that are temporary, things that are change by the next day or the next hour. The betrayal of a friend or the bullying of the crowd, not enough likes for the last picture that was posted or any number of other here-today-and-gone-tomorrow things that people believe will give meaning to their life. Each fails and hope slips further away, turning out to be no hope at all.
The hope that rises on Easter morning is rooted in the eternal, making it the antidote to hopelessness. Jesus rising on that Sunday morning was a promise made and a promise kept reaching all the way back to the earliest days of human history. Rebellion against God had created deep, wide gulf separating him from humankind. God knew that those who bore his image would be forever lost unless he bridged that gap. The perfect holiness on one side of the gulf required his sacrifice to create a bridge to the other side. No sooner had rebellion entered the world than God promised that he would make a way for the two to be together again. Jesus was that eternal promise fulfilled. Redemption and restoration began and hope was the result.
The hope of Easter morning has no expiration date nor is it limited to a certain group of people. It is eternal and available to all people. The foundation of hope formed by the promise made and the promise kept gives a solid footing. The promise that everything would be set right was made in the beginning of history, fulfilled early in the first century and stretches into eternity. It is this unending nature that makes the resulting hope unique. The ephemeral things that people often attach their hope to disappoint because they are just that, anchored in little and threatened by the west wind. When hope is followed by this disappointment time after time, it reveals itself to be untrustworthy. A lift of the eyes and one finds the superior hope of new life, the hope of Easter.
Hope anchored in the promise of redemption and restoration sustains through the temporary ups and downs of life in this world. The daily news of pandemic and the enormous personal costs being counted reveal shallow hopes in countless ways. Money that was counted on suddenly disappears. Plans made are abruptly canceled. If hope is tied to such easily changing things then it’s really no hope at all.
The hope revealed in the sunrise and the empty tomb of Easter morning does not change nor waiver. It is a hope that is untouched by the crisis of today or the sorrow of tomorrow. Hope resting on the foundation of eternity is the source of inner strength that have carried many over the bumps and challenges of life. It is this hope that enabled Beethoven to compose the Ode to Joy even as deafness stole his hearing. Eternal hope carried Abraham Lincoln from total poverty to the presidency. Rosa Parks, steeled in her resolve by the promise of eternal hope, ignited the press for civil rights for all. The hope of the empty grave is the hope that transcends any of the countless challenges people will face in this life. This is hope for all. This is the hope of Easter.
In my 2023 reading review, I mentioned I purchased many of my books from the used marketplace. When I do so, I always try to purchase the best condition possible, balancing the used price against the purchase of a new volume. When the book arrives in my mailbox, many times I cut open the vinyl package to find a book in better condition than expected; in several instances, the book has never been opened and is clearly unread. This is exciting for sure, but always makes me wonder why the original owner purchased the book but never found the time or the interest to read it. In some cases, the book may have passed through multiple owners before arriving in my office, no one having opened it along the way. In the picture that accompanies this essay, you see the cover of Tim Keller’s book “Jesus the King” adorned with a small orange Goodwill sticker. The excellent book was unopened when I received it and folded back of the covers for the first time, but before that it had touched down in at least two places. Someone had someone had originally purchased it, I presume interested in the content, but for whatever reason they had never got around to reading the book, eventually piling it in with a number of other books and donating it to Goodwill, where it was priced and put out for purchase. Drawing no interest in the store, the volume was scooped up by Thriftbooks and, listed in excellent condition, I purchased it for a price less than the new equivalent, opened it, read it and entered it into my library.
Because I’ve read the book, I know the value of the content beyond the little information offered in the back–cover blurb. As I handle the book, I wonder, why did someone purchase the volume only to relegate it to the “to-be-read” pile long enough to later discard it, all of its insight unrealized. Looking at my own piles of books waiting to be enjoyed, it makes me wonder if the topic was no longer of interest. Perhaps a more insightful book had come into the owner’s possession. It might’ve been a time constraint, something all readers are familiar with. To gain the most from a book, new or used, demands intentional reading. It requires that we mull over the author’s ideas. It demands that we consider the notes and references, in many cases, we need to add our own marginalia, footnotes and summaries. Maybe life had made demands on the first owner that made the challenge of this book impossible to surmount. Whatever the reason or cause, I benefit from discovering what others have missed.
I don’t remember what prompted me to purchase Keller’s book, whether it was a serendipitous search result as I looked for another specific book, or, as is most often the case, it was added to my reading list through a footnote or endnote in another book. Whether the condition had been like-new as I received, or well-loved, as many other books I’ve purchased have been, I am enriched because I opened the cover and read and considered the words and spent the time to think about where the ideas fit in my life, what previous knowledge hook they attach to. Not every volume will be a treasure. Some of our own books, that we purchased new, excited to read them, don’t hold up past the first couple of chapters. They find their way to the ARC or Goodwill, and later perhaps to Thriftbooks as a part of a volume purchase. In those cases, someone may pick up your book, look at the unfolded spine or the stiffness of the hardcover binding and wonder why you didn’t read the book, why you lost interest, what interrupted your reading time. Whatever the reason we pass the book on, it’s good to know that someone else may get the chance to discover what we missed.
My 2023 reading list has finally been tallied and it contains 97 books read in the past year. Though electronic media dominates, there is a special value to the slower pace and tactile experience of reading a book. For pleasure or knowledge, the engagement of mind (and soul) and eyes and fingertips with the paper and the binding and the slipcover creates a bond with yourself and the ideas contained within. This intimacy is also why bad books are especially offensive to us; the personal investment we’ve made in the selection and the purchase and the preparation to read the book spins up our expectations to the point where bad writing is an insult. One of the most valuable permissions that I’ve received in life is to not finish books. Life is brief and forcing yourself to finish something that turns out to be of little value is a waste of your time. Pass the book on and select another from the ever-growing pile of yet-to-be-reads.
I purchase a good many of my books used (yea Thriftbooks!). Apart from saving money, the book you receive has a story to tell. Many have never been read, like they had been languishing in someone else’s yet-to-be-read pile before being abandoned. The dust jacket may have a faded spine, but you still get to enjoy the satisfaction of opening the covers for the first time, feeling that resistance as the cover and spine loosen up for the first time, ready to share the author’s insights with an excited reader. It’s a delight to receive copies used by note-takers like myself. Do I agree or disagree with the marginalia? I’ve discovered heartfelt prayers and prayer lists in the front and back covers from and for people I’ll never meet but I feel apart of as I read them, wondering how they were answered. Few underline with pencil and ruler as I do. Some freehand with ballpoint pen, or worse, use garishly colored highlighters. Here too is a telling practice. When nearly every sentence is highlighted, which of the author’s thoughts were truly valuable?
“Read the best books first, or you may not have a chance to read them at all.” – Henry David Thoreau
I record each book in my journal as I complete it, writing the date of completion and my rating in the front cover before placing it into my library. My rating system is simple. Books rated 5 of 5 are the best, memorable pieces of writing that deserve to be read, notated if applicable and thought about. Those rated as 4s are also worthy of reading and notation, but perhaps just once. Threes are just good books and there an awful lot of those. Those rated as 2 or below come with a warning. Don’t waste your time. Also, don’t ask to borrow these books as they do not have a home in my library. You will notice a handful of books at the top of the list rated as 10. These are invaluable books and ideas that I would recommend to anyone and everyone interested in their topics. You’ll notice a number of titles in the list followed by a notation like (2x). This means that the book was reread during the year. How many books do you have that fall in that category?
As we shepherd the Lord’s struggling churches toward health, attendance is often the ruler by which we measure success and the progress of our efforts. This metric is the most common measurement, and attendance is often the pastor’s answer to most questions about the vitality of a church. From this perspective, any increase in attendance is viewed as a sign of health, and, conversely, to plateau or lower that number becomes an indicator of decline. This is a broad-brush indicator though. We have to remember this implicit fact: dropping attendance in church is a symptom, not the malady. With that axiom in mind, the revitalization-minded leader should lead the church toward a proper diagnosis before administering any remedy. Something precipitated the decline in attendance, and that reality (or realities) should guide the first actions on the return to health.
After taking the temperature of the church, we will probably find other indicators of sickness. We can bundle the most common warning signs found in struggling churches into a pair of broad categories –lack of spiritual depth and diminished or non-existent community gospel impact. Examining the patient, it’s easy to see the connection between the two; shallow Christians reflexively turn inward, but this doesn’t need to be fatal. Both conditions are reversible through diligent and intentional missional leadership. Deepening discipleship will contribute to the Christian’s sense of a need for a growing missional presence in the community, and this will pave the way for natural congregational growth.
Let’s turn our attention to being a gospel presence in the community. The sad reality is that many troubled churches no longer reflect the community in which God has planted them. Demographically or materially, the remaining membership of the church does not mirror the neighborhoods around the church. Any number of cultural changes may have taken place over the life of the church’s ministry. Perhaps the neighbors surrounding the church, who once spoke predominantly German or English, now speak Spanish. Traditions, once heavily influenced by European culture, find the parish filled with Asian celebrations and culture. In some cases, the demographic changes have caused unacknowledged distance with the neighbors, the original membership moving away from the neighborhood because of the blessing of prosperity, creating a commuter church where the members drive in on Sunday morning but no longer have any connection to the people around the building during the rest of the week.
Changing the metrics of revitalization begins with measuring the depth of missional integration in the parish before counting noses in the sanctuary. If this reach is too small to measure, congratulations! You have a wide-open field in which to minister. If your church is aware enough to know that they have become disconnected, call that a bonus! The first steps are easy. Find out who lives within the church’s spiritual reach and what their felt needs are. You may discover that the neighbors are demographically different in socio-economic or cultural ways, but remember always, they are also fellow image bearers who want to know peace, want their children to succeed, and want to be loved. Start your exploration (ethnography = fancy word) from the point of what you have in common rather than from the deficit point of all the differences that divide you.
From the not-so-scary point of “things we have in common with our neighbors,” you can see a variety of ways of being the gospel to them. It might mean that you learn to speak the neighbor’s language, learning at least to say “hola mi nombre es warren” or ask about their well-being (como estas). All people value their children, so help them with their reading and schoolwork, give them a place to gather after school. These and a hundred other things lessen the disconnection with the neighborhood and make you neighbors again. As you forge these relationships, you become a trusted presence in the neighborhood. Without even knowing it, you become the good news to those who the Lord Jesus loves and wants to rescue.
Measure these interactions, counting every opportunity to be a missional presence to the image bearers of the parish as a success. Measure the increasing depth of presence in the neighborhood and every moment in which you can meaningfully touch the lives of the people who live there, in both good times and challenge. Value this because it is these relationships that open the door to the broader gospel rescue story. Value these because these are metrics that matter.
National and international missions are an inseparable part of the revitalization of the church. If you read that sentence aloud, it’ll sound, sound counterintuitive. Mission support and outreach are budget line items slashed early and often when a body finds itself on the decline. The prevailing attitude is that missions is something we are generous with when healthy, and if the church returns to a measure of vigor, well, then we might be able to entertain that discussion again. The renewal of spiritual life to a church demands a different belief. First, the Bible commands us to be goers into all the world with no escape clause for congregational size or budget. Obedience is important, but the second reason is the real motivator. When a church commits to missions, it connects us to the faithful outside of our parish; it strengthens our faith in the provision of God; it expands our vision of what God can do. It reminds us that we’re alive in Christ and serving the same world-spanning God.
Missions is a natural fit with revitalization. The renewal of a troubled church begins with an expansion of vision. One of the most common symptoms of the troubled church is an inward focus to an extreme. The church can think of little else beyond survival. The initial steps of the revitalizationist are to lift the corporate vision, first to the neighborhood outside the sanctuary walls, and then further. Some might say this is a step too far, that a missional perspective on the immediate neighbors is sufficient. And it is, to light the flame, but the benefits of connecting to international missions through support or active involvement fuels the growth of the church’s vision of Jesus. The Messiah and the gospel he preached are the same in our town and on the other side of the world. What the Holy Spirit can do to bring salvation and shalom to those on another continent, he can do with the neighbors across the street. The question is (hopefully) asked, “should we be on a missionary footing to the those neighbors?”
Seeing God at work through a missionary might remind us of the proclamation in Habakkuk 3:2 “Lord, I have heard of your fame; I stand in awe of your deeds, Lord. Repeat them in our day, in our time make them known…” What God can do in the mission field, God can do in our neighborhood, and what God can provide to the missionary far from home, God can also provide here in our treasury. The faith and trust in God’s provision shown by all missionaries can spark a motivating dream for the discouraged church. Revitalization is encouraging the hesitant to step out in faith, both spiritually and financially [Matthew 6:26]. The church becomes motivated to pray with greater faith, to seek out God’s provision for a greater missional presence in the community.
Being that missional presence can feel close to impossible for the declining body trying to keep its head above the waves. But, when the church bobs up at the crest and catches a breath, the view of the missionary far from home, with no building, with no disciples, with nothing but a calling and gospel faith, the troubled church might find the blessings that they do have have far exceed the deficits. The renewal leader can seed the life of the church with this idea, reminding the body that God can use all the things he has provided them with in the past to prepare the ground for an exciting new future. Perhaps a future where the revitalized church supports more missions, maybe even sending some of their own into the field. Who knows, these missionaries might be the catalyst for new life in another church.
The North American Baptist Conference has four principles that guide ministry throughout their churches. These principles [called End Goals by the NAB] are interwoven and intended to be understood as a whole. Ministry flows through each of the principles to form a holistic, missional philosophy of the Church in the world. The thoughts above are an interaction with End Goal 4: NAB Churches will send and support international missionaries. In an article written by Executive Director Harry Kelm, the following appears:
We are committed to going to the nations globally, seeking to reach those who have not yet been reached. We are also committed to partnering with and working alongside the Christians and the churches of many nations. We believe the most effective way to share the message of Jesus is to equip the people of a nation to reach those within their own culture, to have Jesus flow in and through the culture to which they belong. |Onward Spring 2023
Besides church planting, these principles should also guide revitalization efforts. As with the church plant, the legacy church has a place in being and proclaiming the gospel to their community. Use the principles to evaluate the alignment of your church’s ministry and leadership with the vision embedded in the Goals. Teach them and shape your efforts to reach your community and the world with the love of Christ and the hope of shalom.
The mosh pit has a cardinal rule, a never-to-be-breached rule:
If someone goes down, you pick them up.
In the swirling morass that is a concert mosh pit, where the energy of arms and legs propels the aggressive, circular path, one iron-clad rule is followed; if someone should fall, you will stop, reach down, and lift that person to safety, ushering them to the outer edge to catch their breath, to dance again another day.
What if the Church made that a similarly sacred rule? That in the chaos of life, where challenges and trouble come at the Christian in rapid-fire volleys, what if we made it an unbreakable rule that we reach down, lift up our brother or sister and guide them to security and peace no matter the sacrifice it demands of us?
One of the most disappointing aspects of 21st century evangelical Christianity is the individualization that characterizes of our faith and practice. Each person holds to their own faith—just you and Jesus—and the fragility or strength of that relationship is no one else’s business. The koinonia (fellowship) that is to mark our lives together in The Christ diminishes to the social realm only. This voluntary-association-only idea robs us spiritually and danger lurks there. This individualism-in-the-vicinity-of-others makes us more vulnerable than we realize.
Deconstruction has become a buzzword and a reality in the Church today. You and I are witness to brothers and sisters in various states of unraveling all the time. Western individualism prompts us to make a polite inquiry into a brother’s spiritual well-being, but when we receive the “I’m fine”—when they’re clearly not—response, we back away. As the unraveling of belief spirals, we step further away, not wanting to elicit an angrier rebuff. Sometimes this spiritual struggle works out, but not without scars. Occasionally, the spiral goes so deep that the sister or brother walks away from their faith and the Church, the misguided choruses of “they never belonged to us” [1 John 2:19] whispered behind their backs. Man down. Woman down. These are not exclusively matters of perseverance but more so matters of our common brokenness.
We, and you are free to expand that category as far as you’d like, are eternally united in the Image we share. Those of us who have been enjoined in the category of God’s people by our loyalty to the Christ are united by our new common experience of bearing images-in-transition. Bearing both the Image and the Spirit, we are a part of a Koinonia, a fellowship that brings with it added concerns and responsibilities. We’re in this together, the ‘I’ condescends to the ‘We.’ The disciple’s sacrificial love is to be vigilant and concerned for the mental, spiritual and physical well-being of brothers and sisters. “I’m fine,” can be challenged with an observation of not-fineness only when the bond of these brothers and sisters is strong, when we as the Church refuse to go the way of the culture of individualism. We leave no sister behind. There are no men down while we sing Hallelujah.
Revitalization leaders may not be the leaders of the renewed church. Read that sentence a second time. The pastor who leads a church through the process of revitalization to new life, may not be the leader that God chooses to lead that now stable and flourishing church into the future. The unique gifting and pastoral heart needed to bring a church from decline to health may not always be the same gift set and disposition needed to serve a church in healthy times. For this reason, the Revitalizationist should commit to two principles in their renewal ministry. First, commit to building leaders for the future and second, commit to leadership development and discipleship as an integral part of your renewal work.
The pastor who leads a church through the process of revitalization to new life, may not be the leader that God chooses to lead that now stable and flourishing church into the future.
Both of these principles should apply to every leader in every ministry. Every leader in every level of God’s church should commit to naming and training the next generation of leaders, and do so with a self-sacrificial attitude. The overarching principle that should guide this commitment is to always do what’s best for the objectives of the church. Even in a healthy and flourishing body, there should be a plan in place for a pastoral transition to ensure that the church continues to be a blessing to its community going forward. Church renewal requires a special pastoral temperament and a different gift mix. In your commitment to doing what’s best for Christ’s church, a vision of that congregation in a healthy state may reveal that a different leader would be a greater blessing for the future. During the stresses of revitalization, it is also tempting to set this aside and worry about new leadership after the church has returned to health. You might say that there’s too much work to do, that there is not time to be training someone under fire, but, in reality, there’s no better time to raise up leaders for the future.
Your commitment to identifying, recruiting, and discipling young leaders during a revitalization blesses those people with a unique experience. These leaders will have opportunity to be in the thick of the ups and downs of the renewal process and they will be experience ministry that they may never see anyplace else. Developing leaders can be exposed to those things that brought about the decline in the church, learning to differentiate between internal causes and external demographic changes. In being exposed to these things, the leader will have opportunity to look critically at the ministry direction and efforts in the years before revitalization started, and learn how to avoid any of the pitfalls in the ministry they will lead in the years ahead. Young leaders can be discipled in biblical church structure, worship and discipling people on their own. The revitalization pastor needs to look at this as a unique opportunity to shape the leadership for flourishing.
Committing to working yourself out of your current call is a test of your faith. If you have discerned that God called you to revitalize, won’t you also trust that God has plans for your future as well? It might be mildly disconcerting to consider that eventuality after all the love, labor and heartbreak devoted to renewing the church, but we remember who we serve and who that renewed church belongs to. The relationship between Apollos, St. Paul and God is a useful meditation [1 Corinthians 3:6-7]. The Revitalizationist pastor is not alone in this either; these principles should guide every level of leadership within the church. Wartime elders and ministry leaders in the trenches of the renewal process should also commit themselves to discerning and raising up the elders and ministry leaders of the future. For all involved, could there be a greater blessing than being used by the Lord to bring new life into his church and then, if called to do so, to step back and simply be a part of the chorus that praises him for what he’s done?
The North American Baptist Conference has four principles that guide ministry throughout their churches. These principles [called End Goals by the NAB] are interwoven and intended to be understood as a whole. Ministry flows through each of the principles to form a holistic, missional philosophy of the Church in the world. The thoughts above are an interaction with End Goal 3: NAB Churches will develop spiritual leaders. In an article written by Executive Director Harry Kelm, the following appears:
As a conference, we must be committed to identifying, encouraging, equipping, and engaging the emerging spiritual leaders God is raising up. We invest in these emerging leaders by encouraging the growth of their abilities and the godly use of their giftedness. |Onward Spring 2023
Besides church planting, these principles should also guide revitalization efforts. As with the church plant, the legacy church has a place in being and proclaiming the gospel to their community. Use the principles to evaluate the alignment of your church’s ministry and leadership with the vision embedded in the Goals. Teach them and shape your efforts to reach your community and the world with the love of Christ and the hope of shalom.
LOVE | ACCEPT | FORGIVE 