Category: Church (page 7 of 28)

6 Reasons I Love the Church

I love parachurch ministries. (ministries like Campus Crusade For Christ, Lifeway, Hope Pregnancy Center, etc.) They play such an important role in the kingdom, coming alongside the church in a beautiful way to serve our communities. I’ve done ministry with parachurch organizations, served on leadership boards, and pointed countless people to them as viable, vital organizations.

3137

image credit: Creation Swap user pru lee

But I have distinctly chosen not to work at a parachurch. I have nothing bad to say against them. Nothing at all. But I understand where God’s called me to lead and serve, and it’s in a local church.

Recently I sat down with the VP at a large Christian organization, and he pitched me a job offer. It was a sweet gig, and the twist he threw my way was, “This is the chance to serve not just one, but to serve thousands of local churches through your work here.” It caused me to take a step back and evaluate who I was and what God was calling me to.

In the process, I realized how much I love the local church. I saw just how much I adore the local expression of the body of Christ. I received a renewed passion for this beautiful, hot mess of a bride that Jesus died for.

6 reasons I love the church

 1. It’s messy.

Local church work isn’t neat and tidy. Ever. If it grows clean, that means you’re not doing the work of evangelism…or you’re disengaged from real ministry. Real ministry with real people who have real problems is a mess. And I’ve found that when people are open and honest with where God has them, the doubts and frustrations they’re experiencing, and the places where they’re most confused, spiritual growth happens in huge ways.

Neat and tidy is boring.

2. It’s not a formula.

There is no one-size-fits-all system. There is no perfect structure. No ministry without hiccups. You can learn principles from other churches, but copying methodology doesn’t work. What worked in one church likely won’t work in another.

Formulas are boring.

3. It’s not a bunch of “professionals.”

Pastors are not “professionals.” We are on the journey with those we are leading, broken people leading broken people. We are redeemed sinners leading people to the King. I’m thankful that I am free to be who God has created me to be, not masking over the parts of my life I’d rather stay hidden. It’s time for pastors to stop hiding behind beautiful masks.

“Professional” is boring.

4. It’s chaotic.

Church world not always chaos, but ministering to and with real people is edgy. You can’t box ministry in, because the moment you do, you’ll find that the box has moved. Chaos is scary and uncontrollable…ripe ground for faith to grow.

Controlled boxes are boring.

5. The work is never done.

No matter what you do, who you “fix,” what system is just “perfect,” there will always be more work to do. And I love that. There are challenges everywhere you look. And everybody is a work in progress. Pastors included. Sunday is always coming.

Completion is boring.

6. We are the bride of Christ.

Christ died for us! The local church was worth the blood of Christ. The local church, that messy, chaotic, unprofessional, constantly-needing-fixed, uncontrollable, beautiful bride, is worth every ounce of effort I can give.

The bride of Christ is not boring.

Question:

Do you work in/serve the local church? What do you love so much about your church?

 

 

A plea to pastors: be real

I recently wrote a post that got some folks pretty fired up.

I wrote my 7 reasons for why nobody really likes cats. Turns out, that’ll get some people pretty angry. And how I think that “the only good cat is a dead cat.”

I made it clear that it was just a joke post, and that I was just having a bit of fun. I don’t really want to kill cats. If I see one in the road, I swerve to miss it. If I’m at your house and you have a cat, I’ll sneeze and scratch my eyes, but I’ll pet your cat. And I’ll talk to it in that little baby voice we talk to when we communicate with small animals.

I was having a bit of fun with my post. Why?

Because not everything that comes out of my mouth is a Scripture reference and a word of wisdom.

Confession: I am a real person.

Screen Shot 2012-10-22 at 9.24.05 AM

It’s okay for you, too, if everything that comes out of your mouth is not be spiritual. You have my permission. Especially if you’re a pastor.

In fact, I believe that’s one of the reasons why Grace, where I was on staff, was successful: our pastors were real people. That’s one of the reasons why I believe Long Hollow is successful, too: our pastors are real people. With real struggles. Real pain. Real shortcomings. Real victories. Real families. Real hobbies.

When pastors talk in King James and end their every sentence with, “thus saith the Lord,” it gives the appearance that they’re perfect, inadvertently preaching that they have nothing wrong, struggle with nothing, and have every answer to every question ever asked.

Pastors: please be a real person.

The danger of detachment

You have a different calling, with higher responsibilities. There are certain expectations placed on you by God Himself, and God will hold you accountable for the way you taught and led. But that doesn’t mean you have to abandon everything in life except your Bible. The more you detach yourself from regular life the more you’ll find yourself detached from the people you’re called to lead. If the people you lead are in to football, you need to be in to football. If they’re in to raising pigs, you need to be in to raising pigs. If they’re in to hiking, you need to be in to hiking. Paul says it like this: “I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some.” (1 Corinthians 9:22)

If you don’t have that thing that you enjoy, you’ll burn out, too. You can’t be a spiritual superhero all of the time. You’ll burn out and break. You need a release, and a chance to unwind. Find a TV show you and your spouse can watch together. Go golfing with the guys. Take your kids to a baseball game. Take off your pastor hat.

The more you share about who you are, even the parts of you that aren’t perfect and polished, the more you’ll be able to show people just how big of a God you serve. If you’re broken, you show people just how much you need Jesus. If you’re a mess, you paint a picture of a King that is full of grace.

It’s easier to relate with a real person that with one who doesn’t encounter regular life issues. It’s easier to connect with a pastor who follows Jesus but admittedly doesn’t have it all figured out. Why?

Because you don’t have it all figured out, either.

There was only one perfect man. And He’s the one I point people towards.

Which doesn’t mean that I don’t like football. Or golf. Or that I’m not going to say something dumb some time.

I’m sorry that I do that. I’m human. I don’t like that I’m still fallen, and still struggle. But offer me some grace.

And laugh at my jokes, even if you don’t think they’re funny. Please? 

 

 

10 Statements Church Visitors Never Want to Hear

Screen Shot 2012-10-08 at 7.40.55 AM

image credit: CreationSwap user Beaty Bass, edits mine

You’ve been a church visitor at some point, right?

Ever heard something you wish you didn’t hear, right off the bat?

I’ve got a few that nobody really wants to hear. Some I’ve heard personally. Others I’ve heard as they were told to someone else.

10 Statements Church Visitors Never Want to Hear

1. Our pastor isn’t normally this _____.

Insert whatever you want in this blank: loud, obnoxious, offensive, long-winded. If you have to explain part of your pastor’s style because you know that outsiders won’t like it, you’ve got a problem. Talk with your pastor about that.

2. We’re full. Sorry. 

Always have a backup plan. Always. If someone sees that your service is full once, they’ll deal with it. But they probably won’t come back if they don’t see a plan you have in place.

3. What are YOU doing here?

Never say this. Never. Your shocked, open mouth reveals your judgmental spirit…at least in the eyes of visitors. When you say this, all they can think is, “God couldn’t really love someone like you.”

4. You can’t serve now…you’ve got to be a member first.

Why would someone want to become a member if they’ve never had the chance to serve?

5. We don’t believe in serving coffee on Sunday mornings.

If you say this, I can only assume you are leading a church in the pit of Hell.

6. What’s your address? I didn’t catch it on the first 6 forms I had you fill out.

Try to streamline the “first time visitors check-in process.” Nobody likes to feel like they’re visiting HR on their first church visit.

7. You want to join a small group? You’ll have to wait until next Fall.

If you ask people to wait more than a month to join community, they’ll often look elsewhere.

8. Here we just care about the Truth. If you don’t like it, you can leave.

I get it. You love the Bible. You love preaching the Truth. But don’t love that more than you love people.

9. Here are the 38 things we do each week as a church.

Simplifying is the key, otherwise you’ll give people decision paralysis.

10. Next time, could you make sure to wear _____.

Fill that in with “something nicer,” “something more relaxed,” or “something that’s clean,” and you’ve offended someone unnecessarily. Creating a “come as you are” culture should be our aim, not creating a “come as I am” culture.

Got anything you’d add?

 

 

3 Questions to Discern God’s Will

Don’t you just wish God would write His plan for you in the sky so that you’d know what He want? Don’t you just wish God would send you a Twitter message that said, “If you want to know my will, click this link: http://____. #NowGetOffTwitterAndGoDoSomething”

Knowing

image credit: CreationSwap

If we’re honest with ourselves, there’s a bit of us always looking for the easy way out. Especially when it comes to the most important decisions. If we could shorten the process, we would. It’s not a matter of trying to be disobedient or experiencing decision paralysis. It’s all about wanting to know God’s will and move forward.

But if that were how God operated, there would be no reason to have faith. We’d just know. There would be no need for trust in the midst of uncertainty, because there’d be only certainty.

God doesn’t always give us 100% clarity before a decision so that we’ll learn to trust Him. So that we’ll seek Him. So that we’ll not simply rely on our own wisdom, but we’d learn to lean in to others.

Have you ever have a decision in front of you and you’re not sure what to do?

Any life-altering, future-shaping decision has to be run through a grid. If you don’t have a framework to use when making decisions, you can find yourself way off in left field.

That’s why I have 3 questions I ask myself that have helped shape decisions I make and directions I go.

I recently had a huge life decision in front of me. Before I ever made the decision to move forward, I spent lots of time praying through these 3 questions. I worked through them with my wife. With people who knew me, knew the details of the potential move, and who understand my strengths and weaknesses.

The 3 Questions

1. Is this from Satan?

I figured out the answer to this one pretty quickly. The potential opportunity wasn’t leading me towards sin. It wasn’t leading me away from my ultimate calling in life. It wasn’t leading me to disobey clear commands in Scripture. Wasn’t leading me away from my wife and son or away from God.

This is the only question with a clear black-and-white answer.

2. Is this from my flesh?

Through this opportunity, are you only looking to make more money or serve your own interests? Are you looking to be more lazy? Are you looking for an easy way out, avoiding something you know you need to do by saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to this opportunity? If you stepped in to this, would you be going against what you know God has called you to do in your current situation? If you say no, would you be staying in your position when you know God is prompting you to leave?

This is the point where you have to be painfully introspective and honest with yourself.

3. Is this from God?

If it’s not from Satan and not from your flesh, it may just be from God. Before you make the move, though, ask yourself if this is even something you want to do. Is this a God-given desire? Could it serve others better? Could God use you in a new and fresh way? Could God have been preparing you for this move? Could God be leading you on a new, different, fresh journey?

This is the point where you must bring others’ wisdom in. Don’t try to figure out this answer alone.

With every life decision, work the grid. Don’t work through it by yourself, though! Grab a trusted friend (or two) and ask them to help you out. It’s hard to see your own blind spots.

Question:

Got any big life decisions in front of you?

 

 

Holes in the gym floor

I played city-league basketball growing up. I wasn’t that great…just like now, I was a skinny white kid. But I was quick, and a decent shooter.

We played games on Saturday mornings at a local elementary school gymnasium. Overall, it wasn’t a bad place to play. Plenty of seating. It was heated and cooled. And generally, it was clean. Generally.

7302153422_98b9ff209c_b

image credit: Flickr user atlanticcape

Taking a look at the gym floor, you’d assume everything was fine. You could tell it had been used by decades of kids playing ball, but it looked acceptable. Not new, but on the freshly veneered surface all looked well.

But there was a spot.

And if you were to take me to that gym today, I could close my eyes and walk to the spot.

It was about 6 feet out from the basket on the side closest to the door. It was dead.

Everybody playing knew the spot was there, but in the heat of a game, usually once or twice, the guy with the ball would forget about the spot, and go up for a layup with nothing in their hands. Running down the court at full speed, the ball that was once bouncing right back to their hand would bound no more, falling like a bowling ball to the gym floor and making the player look like a fool.

If only the maintenance crew had peeled back the hardwood and exposed the subfloor, it would’ve been a problem easily remedied. It wouldn’t have cost a ton of money to fix the problem. But instead of fixing the underlying issue, maintenance decided to paint right over the spot and pretend it wasn’t there. Just below the surface hid this ugly hole, hidden by a freshly painted, freshly lacquered surface.

Spiritual Lacquer

We do the same things spiritually, don’t we? We put on beautiful masks to cover over a dark part of our story. We put a fresh coat of paint over the pain to tell the world we’re perfectly fine. We slather on fresh lacquer and cover up something that we’d rather others not know is there.

We forget that God can repair and restore what’s broken. We forget that God’s in the business of reconciling all things to Himself. (Colossians 1:19-20) And though that reconciliation might not look like we hope it will look, in time we’ll grow to see the beauty. We’ll experience God’s love, forgiveness, and grace. We’ll become new.

It’s in this process of restoring you and giving you hope that God will breath hope into someone else, too. (2 Corinthians 1:3-7) But not if you paint over your issues. Instead of healing, you’ll cover over rotting wood that’s waiting to explode in the heat of the battle. When you need the foundation of your life to hold the strongest, you’ll find it crumbling as you live life in hiding.

You’ve got plenty of mess and pain and disappointments and frustrations. Plenty of unmet expectations, unmet desires, and unreached potentials. So do I.

Quit acting like you don’t have problems. We’re born without a mask. So let’s quit putting a mask on.

Be real and honest with someone.

I’ll start:

I deal with insecurity. Not every day, but I have to battle against my flesh and remind myself that I’m loved by the King of Kings. I care too much what people think and what they say. “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names can never hurt me” doesn’t really ring true with me. Names hurt. Words injure. And I do battle with caring too much how others respond to my leadership.

Your turn.

 

 

Guilty feelings about missionaries

Screen Shot 2012-09-25 at 11.01.13 AM

image credit: Rob Gros, CreationSwap

Growing up, my local church would bring in a missionary couple once/quarter on a Sunday evening to present to our congregation about the work that they’re doing. Some were working overseas, others domestically. Either way, though, the format was the same.

My pastor would come on stage with his tie a little looser, and I could just sense it was coming. Nap time.

He’d give a brief intro, then have the congregation welcome the missionary couple to stage. They’d give a few words in another language, thank us for having them, hit the lights and queue the slide show. For the next 45 minutes, they’d scroll through slide after slide of pictures of huts, out-of-focus large-group pictures, and lots of “um…what is that, honey? Did you take that picture?”

And then I’m sure they said something after that, but I never caught it. I was enjoying my nap. 🙂

Part of me felt guilty, though. The most boring services of the year were the ones where someone who had given their life to serve others, and taken the Gospel to the most difficult areas of the world, were presenting.

But it wasn’t my fault. I had no reason to feel guilty.

It was the missionaries’ faults for being dull.

Dark rooms and pictures of people nobody know rarely inspire a room. Especially when you’ve got a 7 year old in the room.

Your story

If you’ve got a story to tell (and, presuming that you’re reading this, you’re alive, which means you do), tell it with gusto. Tell it like your life depends on it.

More accurately, tell it like someone else’s life depends on it. Because it does.

God uses other people to call us out of our normal existence and sweep us into the fuller picture of who He’s calling us to be and what He’s calling us to do. Rarely do moral platitudes do it. Ever more rarely do condemning opinions and judgments. Stories change the world. Stories shape ministries.

It was a story that helped shape my ministry. Over the course of 2 years, I listened to the story of a guy a few years older than me share his story of being called to ministry. I was 15, and it was his story that shaped the community I was a part of. Out of that community, 4 men are serving in full-time vocational ministry.

You’ve got a story to tell, so tell it. Share your pain, your frustrations, your disappointments, and your victories with those whom God’s given you the gift of building a relationship. Share it often and share it well.

 

 

Disruption: the king of community

I met the king of community last night. He was in my small group, just waiting to reveal himself at the right time.

I’ve seen him before. He’s popped his head in a few times to small group or to random conversations with friends. I’ve seen him at the gym, in the coffee shop, and waiting in line at Wal Mart.

It’s hard to plan for him, because he comes and goes as he pleases. The best thing you can do is to be ready for him, because when he shows up he could destroy a relationship. He could so distract you that you think he’s an annoyance, something you need to move past to get to something else that’s more important. In the moment, nobody really likes him.

The king of community’s name is not “food,” though that helps. His name is not “coffee,” though in my small group coffee is vital. His name is not “funny joke” or “comfortable couch” or “a great Bible study” or “common interests.”

His name is disruption.

image credit: CreationSwap user Jeremy Binns, edits mine

He shows up in a number of different ways. He shows up often in small groups, but if you’re not ready for him, he’ll come and go unnoticed as the king. He’ll frustrate, distract, and derail. In fact, when he shows up, he’ll make people want to leave.

But if you’re ready for him, he’ll build a stronger sense of community than you could ever imagine. Small group leader: be ready.

Unplanned disruption

Pain.

Sometimes this pain is caused outside of your group (losing a loved one, losing a job, etc.). Other times it’s a pain that’s shared together by the group. Either way, pain and difficulty disrupt the “normal” and build community. Neither of these painful experiences can you plan, and neither of these painful experiences would you long for. But either can cause your relationship with that person to go really deep really quickly, knitting your stories together.

The prayer request.

Look out for this one, because it’ll sucker-punch you in a small group. You’re ready to shut the group down for the night when someone brings up the request, “Dave’s not here tonight because we decided to separate.” Or, “Every week I just sit here and listen, but I need to tell you that I’m addicted to _____.” In these moments, slow down and let community happen.

The random question.

You’ll be tempted to dismiss this one as a distraction. And though it may be distracting you from the topic at hand, it can be a great community builder. These questions disarm people, giving them a chance to rally around their doubts, confusions, and curiosities. Chances are good that one person’s curiosities will reveal another’s.

Planned disruption

Meeting to serve.

Try putting your Bible study aside for the night and serving at a local soup kitchen. Or going shopping for your neighbor with 3 kids whose husband just left. Or going on a full-fledged mission trip together.

Game night.

Nothing reveals the depravity of the human heart quite like game night. Gloves come off, ribbing begins, and friends turn on each other. All is fair in love and war…but not in a game of “Cranium.”

The tough saying/hard question.

“What’s God calling you to do with this?” “How are you going to obey Jesus with this today?” “Why does God ask us to ____?” Wrestling through difficult questions and hard sayings builds community. Plan these question-bombs wisely.

Watch for disruptions. They’ll either rip the fabric of your group apart…or weave it together into beautiful community.

Question: 

Have you experienced authentic community? What helped build that?

 

 

It’s not you, it’s me

I had just finished my freshman year in college and made my way home for the summer. It had been a good first year, and countless opportunities were to soon dot the landscape of the next 2 months. But dread and fear and ache loomed in my heart as I stood outside the door. On the other side of the door stood a conversation I knew I needed to have.

4202269991_7239038ec2_b

image credit: Flickr user dolfi

I reached my hand up to knock, but jerked it back down, the internal battle manifesting itself as my sweaty palms looked for anything to do besides sweat. This was absolutely what I needed to do, but in the moment I wanted to do anything but.

Have you ever broken up with someone? You knew it was the right decision, but it was hard and there was a part of you still very much resistant to the whole notion.

That’s where I was the week after my freshman year in college.

And yesterday.

But yesterday took the cake.

Have you ever had to go through that whole heart-wrenching break-up routine 4 times in one day?

Yes?

Then you’re crazy. But I’ve got still got you beat.

Ever broken up with 2500 people on the same day?

I have. Yesterday.

As I stood on stage yesterday at Grace, I “broke up” with my church. I explained how God’s leading us somewhere else, to a new adventure and a new people. It was the hardest announcement I’ve ever had to make. As excited as I am for what’s next, I’m equally being ripped apart because I love the people at Grace, whom I’ve served for the past 5 years.

It’s not you, it’s me.

This has been the most difficult decision of my life. Fleeing a burning building is one thing. If a building is on fire, everybody would tell you, “Get out of there! It’s time to run!” But fleeing one you love, one that’s growing, and one that’s full of people you love and care for is something else entirely.

But it’s when we grow comfortable that God often calls us to take a big step of faith. A step of faith that gives us the chance to trust God in a new way that we couldn’t if we stayed planted in the same spot.

Comfort and faith rarely go hand-in-hand.

I will be starting at Long Hollow in Hendersonville, TN, on October 1, as their small groups pastor, working to create a healthy small group structure, investing my life in small group leaders.

I hate walking away from Grace, but am thrilled to be joining the team at Long Hollow. Thrilled for this next season in our lives. Thrilled to pour out blood, sweat, and tears (well…likely I won’t pour out blood…but you get it) to create healthy, authentic, God-honoring communities all throughout the Hendersonville/Nashville area. Absolutely stoked.

Big changes for the Reed family.

 

 

Measuring new small group health

When a group leader launches a new small group, they’re curious. They want to know if they’re going to have a successful group. They don’t know if their group is going to stick, if people will come back, or if they’ll take steps of faith together.

How do you know if your new small group is going to “work”? How do you know if they’re going to stick together and grow and have dynamic stories of life change?

313932

image credit: iStockPhoto user Daft_Lion_Studio

Is it that you have solid biblical discussions right off the bat?

Is it that for the first few weeks everybody shows up?

Is it that they’ve already started talking about the group serving together?

Is it just that sense of “peace,” that fluffy feeling in your stomach, that you sometimes get?

I submit something different. I saw the #1 marker of success in the small group that my wife and I lead, and I saw it last night. How do I know we’re going to have a successful group?

They stayed at our house until almost 11:00.

And we started at 6:30.

Relationally, we’ve already made deep connections. When we say, “Amen,” we’re not done. Our group isn’t defined by our study alone. Our group isn’t defined by the fact that we meet on Tuesday nights. Our group isn’t defined by our life stage or our kids’ ages. Our group is defined by significant relationships, built around the stories God has written with our lives and the story He’s writing with us together as a group.

We’ve built authentic community quickly. It just took us a few weeks, but God’s woven us together beautifully. We’ve made a priority out of getting to know each other at a level deeper than the surface. And it’s working. Late into the night every Tuesday night.

If your group hangs around after you say, “Amen,” you’re doing something right.

Without significant relationships, your group won’t last. Mark my word.

 

10 Things I Wish I’d Been Told in Seminary

My time in seminary was formative for my spiritual, and ministerial, life. I loved my time there, and was an important part of God confirming my call to full-time vocational ministry.

sbts-library

image credit: andynaselli.com

Seminary isn’t for everyone, but it’s incredibly helpful for some. Including me.

But seminary doesn’t teach you everything. It doesn’t fully prepare you for ministry, or tell you what hats you’ll have to wear. If you go in to seminary expecting it’ll give you every tool it takes to lead the Church well, think again. It ain’t happenin’. In fact, I learned a ton working in a coffee shop while in seminary.

10 Things I wish I’d been told in seminary

1. Your involvement in the community is vital.

Finding boards to serve on, roads to clean, and festivals to support shows that you love your community, your culture, and your people. It communicates that you care more than just about your local church, but that you see your local church is a part of a local community. It shows others you’re not just about yourself.

2. Rarely will the rest of the world care about obscure theology as much as you do.

This is the truth. You’ll run in to some young whippersnappers who care about transubstantiation. By and large, though, people won’t “care how much you know until they know how much you care.” (Rick Warren)

3. Leadership is crazy important.

You may be a solid communicator, but if you can’t lead you’ll severely cripple your congregation. You’ll struggle to recruit and keep volunteers, build a healthy staff, and build a healthy church culture. You’ll struggle when the issues you’re brought aren’t black-and-white, and when you can’t simply quote a verse and move on. Leading people through difficulties and change will shape your ministry.

4. People will care more about the application you draw from the text than they will you pontificating on the nuances of the author’s original intent.

This goes along with #2 (above), but it refers specifically to preaching. It’s not wrong that you publicly dive into the technical end of a text, but be sure to make a beeline to how people can apply that truth to their lives. Help people leave knowing what to do with a given Scripture rather than just a few random facts about it.

5. Weddings and funerals aren’t just about preaching the Gospel to people who show up…they’re about building relationships.

I was told about the value and necessity of preaching the Gospel at both weddings and funerals, and that if you don’t do that you’ve failed your calling as a pastor. What I wasn’t told was how important both events are in building real relationships with people in the most emotional times of their lives that they’ll remember more clearly than just about anything else. Building relationships during these events well builds a strong foundation for ministry, and helps garnish trust among people in your church and throughout your community. (because people other than your own church members will show up for these)

6. Remembering names will get you a long way relationally with people.

This should’ve been a class in seminary. Seriously.

7. You’ve got to be internally motivated to succeed as a pastor.

It’s easy to coast. I’ve seen too many guys slip through the cracks on auto pilot. If you’re going to succeed, you’ve got to create traction, recruit, train, invest, and stretch. Nobody else will do that for you.

8. People will constantly look at you for spiritual answers.

Constantly. The more you can give them hope, the better. You won’t have all of the answers, but you’re expected to. Constantly. Giving answers as to “why” is good…giving hope in the midst of pain is better.

9. Seminary is a bubble.

The real world doesn’t think, act, or talk like people do in seminary. If you act like a seminary student the rest of your life, you’ll be pushed to the fringes of real ministry.

10. Who you recruit to be on your leadership team (both staff and laity) will shape your ministry.

This is true whether you’re talking about deacons, elders, small group leaders, or kids ministry volunteers, recruit well. Don’t settle for hiring someone who’s not a fit on your team. Take risks on people, but know that they will shape your ministry.

Question:

Have you been to seminary? What do you wish they’d taught you?

 

 
Older posts Newer posts

© 2025

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑