The Best Defense

You must live with people to know their problems, and live with God in order to solve them.
P.T. Forsyth

With the right spirit, a clumsy church structure will work. Without the right spirit, an ideal structure won't work.
Malcolm Cronk

After looking at the diverse dragons that can threaten a church, what are the best defenses?

Landscapers know the best way to prevent weeds is not to attack them individually. Uprooting stubborn dandelions or chickweed one by one will improve appearances temporarily, but within days, the troublesome plants will be back. The best way to handle weeds is a thick, healthy lawn, which keeps them from springing up in the first place.

Likewise pastors, who are charged to "see to it … that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many" (Heb. 12:15), find that the best way to prevent dragon blight, or at least minimize its damage, is to concentrate on developing a healthy church.

Taking opportunities to build a close, cohesive church will produce better results than the shrewdest political maneuvers after problems sprout. Defusing potential problems before they arise is far better than troubleshooting later on.

What are the keys to dragon-proofing a church? Obviously no technique is 100-percent sure, but there are several principles pastors have found helpful in building church health.

Encouraging a Positive Atmosphere

Some churches enjoy fighting. So do some pastors. Feisty, do-or-die leaders have a way of developing feisty churches.

Columnist Joseph Bayly observed in Eternity magazine, "Fighters must fight. Generals and admirals are never so happy as when they are involved in a big or little war. Boxers are never so happy as when they are pounding opponents insensate. Battling pastors and battling churches are never so happy as when they are locked in combat, preferably with enemies without, but otherwise with each other."

When attacked by church members, some pastors react by retaliating or at least refusing on principle to compromise. To bend would be a sign of weakness. It's total victory, unconditional surrender — or perish gloriously in the attempt. Peacemaking, as Bayly observes, "becomes as unpopular as Neville Chamberlain's umbrella."

When relationships become adversarial, however, the pastor's days are numbered. Most congregations are capable of producing more dragons than any one pastor can slay. The best defense is to create an atmosphere that breeds mutual advocates, not adversaries.

How? Not by refusing to fight, necessarily — some important battles may have to be waged, although less frequently than most of us think. More often, the best way to build an atmosphere of cooperation is to model a positive tone personally:

— by praising publicly the congregation's strengths

— by enjoying and taking pride in the diversity among church members

— by thanking critics, at least initially, for their candor and concern

— by assuming anything uncomplimentary you say about anyone will be repeated — because it probably will be — and by trusting very few people (your spouse? a colleague?) with your private criticisms and suspicions

— by being slow to step into other people's problems — balancing Paul's instruction to carry, with some qualifications, each other's burdens (Gal. 6:1-5) and Jesus' refusal to intervene in the disputes of others (Luke 12:14).

One pastor who has seen his nondenominational church transformed from a defeated, divided group to an enthusiastic, high-morale congregation says, "Obviously the Holy Spirit is responsible for this kind of change, but I think he honored some of our efforts in that direction, too. We began focusing on the joys of life rather than bemoaning our discouragements. You don't cover up your disappointments, failed programs, and lost votes, but neither do you dwell on them or announce them from the pulpit."

Pastors who personify a nondefensive spirit of joy and generosity tend not to attract as many dragons. And when they are attacked, the majority of the congregation begins to notice something amiss — "That's not the way we do things around here."

When the fruit of the Spirit becomes characteristic of the church's daily life, it becomes painfully clear whenever one person violates that spirit, and the body itself will work to take care of the irritation.

Full Employment in People Ministries

Unemployment will breed discontentment, whether in Pennsylvania steel towns, urban ghettos, or the church. Those fully employed in significant ministry are less likely to become troublesome.

When Richard Halverson was pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Hollywood, California, a church of seven thousand members, he discovered to his amazement only 365 were required to fill the church slots — choirs, boards, committees, teaching posts. And that was assuming each person could hold only one position. This meant, of course, that the overwhelming majority of the church could never have a personal ministry within the institution. As he observed in his book How I Changed My Thinking about the Church, "If the work of the church is what is done for the institution, very few, relatively speaking, will ever have an opportunity to do the work of the church."

Smaller churches may have a higher percentage of people involved in maintaining the church program, but they still can't give everyone a job, nor should they. Some of the most significant ministry is not done inside the walls of the church but outside, where the gospel has its most visible effect.

Elton Trueblood says one of the worst true stories he knows is about the preacher who stood on Laymen's Sunday, the first Sunday in October, and preached on lay ministry. He was so stirring and persuasive that at the end, when he said, "Will any men who are willing to dedicate themselves to the lay ministry please come forward?" a hundred men responded. Someone standing close to the pastor heard him mutter, "Oh my, what am I going to do with a hundred ushers?" The pastor had missed the point of his own sermon.

When it comes to breeding dragons, underemployment can be just as bad as unemployment. Maybe worse. Petty jobs lead to petty conflicts. But problems seldom arise from those active in significant people ministries. Attacks are rare from those concerned with ministering to others — whether in the choir, Sunday school class, or children's club program, or outside the church among refugees, street people, coworkers in a neighborhood Bible study, international students, the elderly, or in any other situation of applying the gospel to people's needs week after week.

Like any army, those on the front lines don't have time to complain. Griping is the luxury of those with small jobs. Being in the battle isn't always fun or even desirable to those involved, but it certainly has more significance and provides more motivation than bureaucratic work.

In the church, administrative details and paperwork are necessary. After all, someone must decide who's going to mow the church lawn, what color to paint the nursery, and who we can get to serve on the social committee. But a church overloaded with bureaucratic ministries is a prime target for a dragon attack.

A ministering laity, not just a busy laity, is a key to suppressing the dragon population.

Reinforcing Productive Members

A ministering laity doesn't happen naturally. Many people still expect the pastor to do the ministry while they watch — and criticize. Changing that image requires shaking up time priorities. Pastors who develop strong lay leaders have learned to honor those who minister, not those who demand it.

Church members notice whom the pastor chooses to spend time with. They appreciate pastors ministering to the chronic dependents, but they lose respect if the emotionally needy or the "squeaky wheels" are able to dominate. Worse, they begin to assume the pastor is the designated minister, and valuable opportunities for building an active lay ministry are lost. A breeding ground for dragons begins to develop. Even if the solid, ministering lay people are not taken for granted, often they aren't given the time they deserve.

"One of the things that surprised me when I entered the pastorate was that people felt they had to have a problem to talk to me," says a Denver pastor. "All I heard was 'Pastor, I don't know what to do,' and the healthy, productive people never made appointments because they felt I was too busy."

This pastor has since let the church know he no longer does extended counseling. "I'm available to see anyone for counseling once," he says. "After that, I refer them to a professional or one of our trained lay counselors. This still keeps me available to everyone and keeps me in touch with individual hurts, but it's freed me to spend those hours with ministry-minded people strategizing how to start a new ministry or do an old one better."

He's also discovered it helps in dragon prevention. The respected people in the congregation are not the self-appointed critics but the doers. Initiative is encouraged. Because of the pastor's time priorities, newcomers to the church soon learn that the church's attitude toward new lay ministries is: Better to have tried and failed than never to have tried at all.

Knowing Congregational Values

Pastors, especially those in their first year with a church, need to take time to build trust and healthy relationships before initiating changes.

Church analyst and former pastor Roy Oswald observes that the task of the first twelve months is to be "a lover and a historian — to fully understand what has taken place here and to learn to love these people before making changes." Too many quick changes tells the people, "You don't understand Christianity; I'm the expert; you should do it my way."

"I know one young woman who started pastoring in a small town," said Oswald in Leadership journal, "and she thought it ridiculous that the pulpit Bible was a huge King James, which didn't leave room for her notes. So she put it away. The next week it appeared back on the pulpit with a note: 'This Bible belongs on the pulpit. (Signed) The Management.' She refused to give in and removed the Bible again. She began having major problems in that congregation, largely because she couldn't recognize what was valuable to those people."

Pastors of healthy churches have learned what Dietrich Bonhoeffer called "honoring the Christ that is present in the community" — discovering what the Holy Spirit has been doing prior to their arrival. Even sick congregations have a spark of spiritual life that can be found and fanned into flame.

This kind of assessment isn't limited to new pastors. Veterans as well can back off projects for a time to repair relationships.

One Presbyterian pastor, who is used by his denomination to counsel beleaguered colleagues, observes that "time and again I see pastors feeling they have to come across forcefully to maintain their position of authority or else they'll be disregarded. But the opposite happens. They diminish their authority by pushing too hard. Real authority comes from proven credibility and caring."

Not many situations are solved by a forceful leap onto people. Most churches have plenty of strong personalities but a shortage of gentleness. Often the pastor gains more influence by being a gentle friend than by grabbing for control.

Sharing Outside Interests

If pastors are all business with their congregations, they lose opportunities to build pressure release valves when dragons cause things to heat up.

A trustee and former custodian in a Kentucky church was making life miserable for the present janitor. He would leave notes for certain floors to be swept or lights to be turned off. He tried to impose a watering schedule for the church lawn. After a public confrontation with the janitor over a thermostat setting, the trustee was asked to come to the next elder board meeting.

"Fred, we know you've got an interest in the maintenance of the church building, but we hired another man to do the job," the board chairman said. "Our custodian reports to the pastor, and we think it's best if you stay out of the picture."

"I don't think the custodian is doing much of a job," Fred said. "And if you don't get him out of there, I don't see how I can continue in good conscience to serve as a trustee."

There was a long silence before the board chairman said, "We're not asking for your resignation, Fred. But we've hired a man to do a job. His supervisor is satisfied with his work. And we can't fire him just because you don't like him." Fred stalked out of the meeting without the issue being resolved.

The pastor, however, shared a ride with Fred each week to their Monday night bowling league. Though he wasn't looking forward to the encounter, he knew someone had to help Fred settle things.

Nothing but bowling was discussed for two hours, but finally on the way home Fred said, "You know, Pastor, I guess I was out of line yesterday. I'll try to restrain myself."

Later the pastor observed, "I was glad we both liked bowling. I don't know if Fred would have reacted so well if I had just barged into his home to talk things over."

Other pastors let their passion for softball, poetry, or country music be known. Far from isolating them, these interests make pastors more human, more accessible, which often helps in finding common ground with a dragon.

Even family needs can provide a foundation for friendship. One pastor found his children helped heal a deteriorating relationship with a board member. At the height of their disagreement over a building program, the board member developed a genuine fondness for the pastor's children.

"My wife was in the choir," the pastor says. "The kids needed to sit with someone in church, and they grew attached to Dick and Verla Martin. Before long, Dick and Verla were offering to baby-sit if we needed someone. We took them up on it."

Later Dick told the pastor, "I've changed my mind on the building program. It was your girls who won me over. I was suspicious of your motives, but now that I know your girls, I feel like I know you and I trust you."

The pastor observes, "I was so glad we'd been careful not to let the kids pick up our bad vibrations with the Martins. We want our girls to grow up loving the church, not turned off because of hostilities among members. If they'd been defensive, I don't think God could have used them to heal our relationship with Dick and Verla."

Even the love for children and the need for a baby sitter can be used to defuse tension.

Underselling Beats Overselling

There's a temptation, especially in smaller churches, to be so eager for growth that prospective members are told what they want to hear. After all, if you've got only ten families, you're desperate for more, and you unwittingly present the church as a perfect fit for their needs.

Overselling the church, pastors have found, is a mistake. While it's flattering to have new members, they're likely to become dragons and eventually do the church more harm than good if they come with an ideology that doesn't mesh with what's there. A small, cohesive family is better than a house divided, even a large house.

"I've changed my approach after several bad experiences," says a Baptist church planter. "I no longer say, 'Our church is for everyone.' I'm more realistic now. Everyone is welcome, but I make it clear our church has a particular personality that will appeal to some and not others. Now I say, 'This is the direction we're going. If you're going the same direction, we'd love to have you hop on.'"

Those who prefer formal liturgy ought not to be persuaded to join a church that majors in gospel songs. Charismatics and noncharismatics can belong to the same congregation, but they need to know the ground rules before they join.

"I enjoy my charismatic friends, but our church is not charismatic," says the pastor of a Bible church in Oklahoma. "They're welcome to join our church, but I make clear from the beginning that we worship in a different way, and if they're uncomfortable with our style, they should probably find another church in town."

With a grin he tells about one woman who'd visited the church several times before eventually joining a charismatic church down the street. When the Bible church pastor visited the woman, he asked, "What attracts you to the other church?"

"It's so friendly — they always hug me there," she said.

"Well, we hug a bit, too," the pastor said.

"Yeah, but they really hug."

After that conversation, the pastor realized the issue was as much one of style as substance.

"Our church is friendly. Five different people from our church had been over to see her, and no one from the other church had called on her," the pastor reflects. "But they hugged her. And that's what means the most to her. That style doesn't come naturally for most of our people. So the right thing was to encourage her to join the other church."

Prospects have a right to know what a church is and isn't. Presenting a fuzzy picture of the church's stand and style is a sure way to produce confusion and dissension.

Healthy churches are confident in their own identity. They know their direction and limits. And they're less likely to be tossed about by disillusioned dragons.