Taking Risks
I remember my first Easter as Pastor in Auburn. I was excited and had some grand ideas for our congregation. We all needed a successful something. After all the negative events of recent months our church needed a real positive. So six or seven weeks prior to the holiday I announced a planning meeting to brainstorm about how we could make Easter really impactful for our community. I invited everyone back that Sunday afternoon to put our heads together and pray for a God-sized Easter Sunday.
About twenty five people showed up, which was about a fourth of our congregation, so I was excited. We spent the hour sharing ideas regarding themes, skits, food, mailers, decorations, etc. Before we prayed together I asked one final question: How many people should we pray and ask the Lord to bring on Easter? I wanted to set a God-sized attendance goal. I already had a number in mind, but I let the group discuss this. Someone said we should ask God for 150; someone else said 200, which was the number I had in my mind. Then our volunteer worship leader boldly proclaimed that 300 should be our goal. I shuttered, but many others agreed with him and before I knew it we were set on asking God for the miracle of 300.
I remember staying awake on Easter Eve of that year and praying that God would perform a real miracle. ‘Please Lord, don’t let your people down. They are stepping out in faith and asking You for a real miracle’. I felt asking God to triple our normal Sunday attendance was mind-blowing and such a risk of faith. I was proud of our people for wanting to take such a risk in the name of the Lord, but three hundred… really?!?! What if only half of that number showed up? It would be another negative episode for our already down trodden body of believers.
This last Easter Sunday was my twentieth as Pastor in Auburn. It was a wonderful Sunday filled with music, drama, and the Word. But this year there was no numerical goal. In fact we haven’t set numerical goals for many years now. I discovered long ago that real risk in ministry has nothing to do with how many people show up on Sunday or how much comes in the offering baskets. Real ministry risk is much harder and runs much deeper than these things. Dare I say our congregation can try gathering a crowd or give weekly gospel invitations without really risking much at all?
Real risk taking in ministry includes three elements; three elements which have nothing to do with goal setting or asking the Lord to answer ‘God-sized’ attendance prayers. These three elements are often shied away from by leaders. I was unwilling to face these risks for the first five years as Pastor in Auburn. But God wanted more from me and from our congregation. Discovering what He wanted, then having the courage to follow it through was the biggest risk I’ve ever taken as a leader, and our congregation has ever taken as a family of believers.
Risk Element #1 – Ask hard questions, really hard questions.
A few years into my position here I was attending a Pastor’s conference and the speaker asked this haunting question: ‘If your church closed its doors today would it have any spiritual impact on your community?’
It’s a question of fulfilling your purpose. If the purpose of our congregation is to make a difference in the spiritual climate of our community then it’s good to analyze how we’re doing. Hard questions about core issues are not often asked of ministries or ministry leaders. But if we want to make a difference for Jesus and get out of the rut we are in then hard questions are the first step. But it’s risky. It’s easier to keep doing what we’re doing and hoping that something changes other than us.
Risk Element #2 – Answer the questions, honestly.
I sat there stunned for a few minutes because I immediately knew the answer to the speaker’s question was ‘no’. Deep down I knew that if we closed the doors of our church, at that time, there would be almost no community spiritual impact. The people who were attending at the time would be disappointed and hurt. But a church does not exist just to have human beings hang out together. IMPACT is God’s purpose for His congregations, and we were failing in our most basic purpose.
But answering that question honestly set me on a path to find out why and how to turn the answer around. I began to analyze our ideologies, our methodologies, and myself as a leader. What beliefs did we hold onto that held us back from fulfilling our purpose? What ministry methods were we perpetuating that were not working, but we held dear? What weaknesses did I have as a leader that held us back from being what God intended us to be?
I began to meet with our Elders to discuss articulating a vision. I began to meet with ministry leaders to discuss new ideas of how to do ministry. After several months of sharing and prayer we saw the real problems we had. We had problems in our ideologies, our methodologies, and in my leadership skill set. I came up with several key answers to the hard questions.
Risk Element #3 – Embrace change – regularly.
The core truths of being a congregation who honor the Lord can never change. God’s Word is unchangeable and fits into every generation and in every culture. But what we believe about making an impact (ideologies) and how we do ministry (methodologies) can and should change from time to time.
But deep change to any congregation or organization is HARD! We dread it. On some level it’s an admission of failure. And we hate to admit failure. Change demands humility. Change includes grief. Because change means all these things we do not like deep, real, DNA type change. But an unwillingness to change leads to organizational malaise or ultimate death.
Praise the Lord our leaders were willing to embrace change. We changed why we did ministry, how we did ministry, and I went back to school and earned my Master’s degree so I could be better equipped as a leader of change. Slowly the painful changes began to blossom into healthy impact. Ideologies that held us back were let go and new ones were adopted. Methodologies that were no longer effect were set down and new methods were installed. My leadership skill set was bolstered to be able to lead beyond the present and into the future.
But deep change comes with two bags. All leaders who embrace risk carry these two big shopping bags of emotions. These bags are labeled THRILL and GRIEF. Over the years since taking these risks there have been so many thrills. God has done things way better than I imagined and originally anticipated. I could name 100 things God has done here. I am so thankful and humbled by the last dozen years here at AGCC.
But the other bag is labeled GRIEF. Change brings sorrow. ‘The good ol days’ really were good in many ways. I miss the days when everyone could come over on Sunday night for ice cream, the days when we all went to Sizzler after church, the time when we could know everyone’s kids names. We were so connected as friends and co-labors. It’s different now. It’s better now. I wouldn’t go back for anything. But change includes grief, a bag of sorrow. And sorrow can paralyze a congregation or its leader. Many do not want to hold the bag of grief and the weight of it holds some back fro moving forward. We love the THRILL bag, but get held back by the sorrow of change.
What keeps me going is the original hard question: ‘If our church closed its doors today would that have a spiritual impact on our community?’ Today I would answer a resounding ‘YES!’ to that question. The risks taken by so many have led to where we are today. IT’s been worth the effort, the sacrifice, and costs. It’s worth carrying the two bags.
But we must not get complacent. We need to pray and seek God’s plan for our tomorrows. We need to continue to have a willingness to take risks. We need to continue to ask hard questions, then answer those questions honestly, and finally embrace changes that will increase our ability to make Jesus even more famous.
So whether you are a leader here at church, or a parent in charge of a household, or a local business leader, take a real risk and see what the Lord will do.
I love being your Pastor
Phil Sparling
