A church that is not reaching out is passing out.
Duke Barron
There I was, settling into my first full-time pastorate and wondering, What have I gotten myself into? With a consistent attendance of less than fifteen and a total church budget of under $14,000, you might say there was nowhere to go but up. But how do you begin the ascent?
The people looked to me for leadership, but I wasn't sure I knew where to start, let alone where to lead.
Although my situation was probably extreme, in principle it illustrates what all small-church pastors face at one time or another. With limited resources, a handful of people, and not infrequently a hint of discouragement or desperation, what can a pastor do to make a difference, especially when the budget restrains experimentation? From my more than ten years in a small church, I have learned three principles that helped keep us growing. The principles are not earth-shattering, but they set the stage for growth.
A Positive Perspective
In smaller churches, I have observed what I call the "attitudes vs. abilities" factor. Organizations that work with churches often offer resources to sharpen leaders' skill levels. Such resources, of course, are both good and needed. Rarely, however, do they address the self-image of the church. It is often that deficient attitude, not just the lack of skills, that hinders a church's development.
The small church knows full well what it can't do, how much money it doesn't have, and all the needs it isn't meeting. (Interestingly, it's a revelation to many small-church leaders that bigger churches often feel exactly the same way but on a larger scale.) Such attitudes often lead to an unhealthy introspection and an apologetic demeanor: "Well, I know it's not much, but we're giving it our best shot." The pastor then complicates the situation by directing sermons at the weak areas, urging greater commitment, greater efforts in evangelism, greater giving.
I've found it better to continually hold before my people the good things the church is accomplishing. Even small things, when lumped together, give a sense of real accomplishment to the people.
For example, as I looked at my church early in my tenure, I realized we were not accomplishing much that I thought we needed to do. But rather than constantly emphasize what we couldn't do, I decided to help the people rejoice in the ministry we were able to accomplish.
The local Youth for Christ group was led largely by people in our church; per capita, we were near the top in giving to our district ministries; our participation in conference camping and church-planting programs contributed to our district's outreach; and in many other ways we were making our mark. Individually, none of these accomplishments appeared all that significant, but taken together, they formed a positive backdrop for ministry and for change. When one of our people accomplished something, we made sure our whole church heard about it and rejoiced!
Pastors are often advised to perform a "strengths vs. weaknesses" study of their churches. When the results are tabulated, frequently there is only a weak nod in the direction of the strengths while the major effort is expended on improving the weaknesses. Perhaps a better starting point would be targeting one or two strengths and working to improve them even more, making them the central thrust of the church's ministry.
In most churches, two or three strengths will naturally bubble to the surface. A strength may be fellowship, a good Bible study program, small groups, the worship on Sunday, or an effective children's program. I encourage smaller churches to take charge of the process rather than just letting strengths develop haphazardly. Churches can identify and improve on their strengths until they become expert in these areas.
Developing a strength accomplishes two things. First, it gives the church an area of expertise. Very likely this strength will establish the church's reputation in the community and become a natural springboard for outreach. "You know, there's just something about First Baptist; you really feel loved when you go there, and it makes you want to go back" or "Bible Fellowship definitely understands the problems of young marrieds. I like it there."
Second, it gives the church a reason for genuine and healthy pride. Nothing helps a small church's esteem so much as to know "We do this well!"
When I got to Faith Baptist, I found a group of people who definitely cared about others, member and visitor alike. So I capitalized on it, underscoring at every possible occasion, "We care about people." Lately I've found it rebounding. I had one counselee tell me, "I'm not a churchgoer, but this is a church I'd like to be a part of because you people really care." He'd been to only one service, but he had picked up on a natural strength of our congregation.
Of course, work still remains to round out the total ministry of the church and strengthen its weaknesses. But now it can be done in a positive and progressive atmosphere of growth, not a negative one of desperation and despair. Even in the worst of situations, such strengths become an anchor point for the rest of the ministry.
Pulling is more effective than pushing, and if the people perceive their role as "rounding out" instead of "desperately hanging on," more is accomplished.
A Clear Purpose
Purpose comes second for a definite reason. Often the smaller church has no clear purpose, and the idea of developing a church purpose can strike fear in the hearts of church leaders. Where do we start? How do we proceed? And how can we convince the church it's even necessary?
Sitting down cold and trying to state on paper their reason for being is often just too big a step for church leaders. To be "spiritual," the church will try to do a little bit of everything. A large church may pull it off, but it becomes difficult, if not impossible, with a small church's limited staff and budget.
If, however, the church has already specialized in one or two areas, grasping the concept of purpose and direction is much simpler. The process then becomes one of understanding the scriptural mandates for churches, seeing where the church is going, and developing a purpose that combines the two by saying: (1) "As we understand the Bible, the church is to do …" (2) "We can fulfill that mandate by …" This way, rather than forcing a purpose on the church, purpose emerges out of the gifts and natural aptitudes of the church.
For example, at Faith Baptist our general purpose statement reflects our desire to keep people, not programs, a central focus of our ministry, and yet to grow at the same time. As we analyzed our ministry, this purpose statement became an indication of both our present direction and our future hopes: "The purpose of our church is to maintain a personal ministry that equips individual believers to successfully live a Christ-like life. We are committed to excellence in (1) preparing the individual, (2) exhibiting a personal touch in ministry, and (3) proclaiming Christ to our world."
I realize that's a pretty broad statement, and we're taught that purposes should be specific. But this was the first time our church had been able to put down in writing our reason for existing. We can now begin to measure all we do against this standard. "Does this activity help us accomplish either number 1, 2, or 3? Are we doing this with excellence? If not, perhaps we should rethink it."
After this first step is taken, further refinement of specific goals comes more easily. For instance, we can take a three-year approach, emphasizing one point each year. Once the original hurdle is overcome, the possibilities are endless.
I admit my entire congregation may not understand completely the purpose and goals of the church—that's the ideal to work toward, but in the interim, I consider it crucial that the leaders do. For a small church like mine to be effective, the leaders must be "owners" of the ministry, not simply administrators. Here I, as pastor, am important: I must encourage, lift, build, help, and show that I value my leaders. They must feel they are colaborers in Christ. And though at this time they may not be able to spell out exactly the goals and direction of the church, they must at least sense a target on the horizon. Remember, the definition of a fanatic is "one who redoubles his efforts when he loses sight of his goal."
All this presupposes that I as pastor have a clear understanding of that target; if I cannot decide what I want the church to become, there will be no dynamic to the church's ministry. I need to be able to say, "In one year, five years, ten years, twenty years I want my church to be …" Vision is more caught than taught, and woe unto the pastor who has no vision to spread.
When I arrived at this church, I decided to first dream dreams without worrying about how to make them happen. For the initial year, my goal was simple survival. Within five years I wanted to help the church iron out its problems, stabilize the budget, and move toward an attendance of forty. By ten years I wanted to see a self-supporting congregation on firm footings, one I could leave without its falling apart. After getting the dreams in place, we have worked hard to make them happen, and we are about two years ahead of the plan.
Now I'm beginning to revise the picture. As of this writing, we're looking toward adding a second pastor in a year, buying property and erecting a building in the next three years, and reaching 250 in attendance by five years. Then we'll start a daughter church. This may have seemed impossible when I began with 15 people and practically no resources, but by now it isn't just my vision; others share the dreams with me.
A Thoughtful Presentation
I'm an amateur radio operator, and two stores in my area cater to ham radio needs. One, about fifty miles away, has a prominently displayed sign that reads: This is not a radio club—no loitering. The other, almost twice the distance, greets you with a pot of coffee and donuts. I drive the extra distance because I feel welcome there.
Similarly, visitors gauge how friendly a church is by the way it presents itself. Smaller churches may unknowingly project a negative image. Buildings are sometimes old, and there's not always money for proper upkeep. Bulletins and church literature may look decidedly amateuristic. The people of the church don't often see these things because the church is so familiar. Perhaps they have never known any other standard. However, these clues do not escape the notice of the first-time visitor. The physical plant and public image communicate the personality of the church.
Beyond the material considerations stand the people themselves: how they react to visitors and how they treat each other. No matter how much the church wants to reach out, growth will not happen if the building and the people fail to say "Welcome!"
One technique I've found helpful in building this awareness is to walk church members through their building as if they were first-time visitors. I take a small group a block or so away from the church, give them pencils and note cards, and try to create a "first-time visitor" mindset for them. Then we "visit" our church. What does the general appearance of the building and grounds communicate about the congregation? How at home do they feel? For example, can they find the rest rooms without having to ask the embarrassing question? Is the foyer cluttered and messy? Are minor repairs left undone? Do the walls and posters tell them anything? If one is not a Christian and has seldom been to church, what would this building say? Would they have any idea where to go or what they were supposed to do? The unwritten "signs" around the building may say a lot more than any welcoming committee ever does.
When the group "visited" our building, they found the exterior in sad shape. It looked as if we were telling the community we weren't a viable church; if the building were any indication, we might not be around much longer. However, on the interior we scored better. Our friendly bulletin boards and displays and the inviting coffee pot in the foyer made up for the undumped trash and the woeful lack of signs indicating rest rooms.
Since then we've spruced up our exterior, made sure the trash is dumped regularly, and posted clear signs to the lavatories. These simple efforts may not win any souls, but they tell people we are committed to our church and care about them. And that, combined with our strength of friendliness, may bring them back to hear the gospel.
I apply the same technique to the Sunday activities. Is any effort made to create a good impression? Or is too much taken for granted? How many people talk to visitors? How much time elapses before someone greets newcomers? Does the church give any impression that it even expects someone new to come? For one new church I know, meeting in a community center, it took twenty minutes of deliberate search inside the building for a visitor to find the meeting location! The church had no signs posted, no ushers at the outside doors—and no visitors.
I try to extend image-oriented thinking to all the public images our church projects. What does the Sunday bulletin look like? Although it did cost our church a bit of money (at a time when we had little to spare), we custom designed our bulletins. Since bulletins generally go home with people, we wanted them to carry away a good impression, so we bore the expense. We've had T-shirts professionally designed with our church logo. We use them for sports, youth activities, vacation Bible school, and other occasions, and it's exciting to see them dot the town.
I've found that whatever we decide to do—even as a small church—we need to maintain a sharp image before the community, one that says, "We know what we're doing, and we intend to do it well." People are, after all, bombarded by TV and print media of the highest quality, and it hits a responsive chord if the church is professional in its presentation. Would people feel comfortable visiting a doctor whose office is kept with the carelessness with which many churches keep their foyers?
This, of course, is not to negate the church's spiritual ministry role. But with a little attention to detail and, yes, just a little money, much "pre-evangelism" can be accomplished with first-time visitors before any words are spoken or any visits made. And the members themselves begin to take pride in their church as well.
The determination of salmon swimming upstream to spawn impresses me. I feel tired just watching them. However, there is no spiritual blessing to be received by churches fighting their way upstream against feelings of insignificance and defeat. Effective ministry is difficult enough even in the best of situations.
I've discovered these three principles are neither costly nor difficult to implement, yet they can help churches overcome self-image deficits.
My father used to tell me, "Work smart, not just hard." I believe our Father honors the same concept. By taking a good look at our churches and making sure some basic principles are at work, we can set the stage for growth and service in the smaller church that could make even big churches envious.
Gary Harrison is pastor of Faith Baptist Church in Delevan, Wisconsin.
