Finding Excuses to Die
“It was great to see all those people there for Easter yesterday.”
“Of course, and I hate to say it, there’s a part me that dreads Easter.”
“Well, there’s a lot to dread about Easter. It’s busy, and all those extra services. Easter’s tough on ministers.”
“No. That’s not what I’m talking about. Well, all that stuff is hard, but I mean something else.”
“Monday. I hate the Monday after Easter. Because as soon as Easter’s over, I start thinking about next week, and how most of those people won’t becoming back. Then that reminds me about how it feels like our congregation’s dying.”
“I know. That’s rough. So, what are you doing to make things different?”
“We want to change.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Well, it’s more complicated than that?”
“More complicated than what?”
“We want to change, but in order to change we need some things to be different.”
“But if things were different, that would be change already, right?”
“Has anybody ever told you how obnoxious you are to talk to?”
“Yeah, I get that a lot. But what is it that you need changed that—if you got it—would finally provide the right environment for transformation?”
“For one thing, we need more people to get involved.”
“How are you going to get them involved?”
“We’ve tried everything we know to try: begging, chiding, wheedling, shaming.”
“How’s that working for you?”
“It’s not, actually, smart guy.”
“So, you can’t change until somebody else does something?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t sound very good when you say it like that.”
“Why else can’t you change?”
“We need more resources.”
“It’s been tough, what with the recession and all. The budget’s been a train wreck. Money’s just hard to come by. If we had more money, things would be way easier.”
“What would money buy you that—if you finally had it—would allow you to change?”
“I’m not sure. Wait. I could get a new computer.”
“What would you do with a new computer?”
“I could get more done.”
“What kinds of things could you do with a new computer that you can’t do now?”
“I could write more, organize my time better. Digitally. You know.”
“You don’t have a computer?”
“Yeah, but a new one would be more efficient.”
“I’m just going to take shot in the dark: Have you ever considered the possibility that the quality of your tools isn’t your most pressing problem?”
So, here’s what I think: Most congregations don’t want to change. I’ve said this before, but I’m still convinced it’s true. Most congregations would rather die than change.
Believing that something external has to change before anything internally has a crack at transformation is a recipe for death. Whether you admit it or not, when you say, “Just as soon as _____, then we can start thinking about changing,” you’ve started making preparations to die.
And the convenient part about it is that you’ll have ready made excuses for why it’s dead.
Waiting for the conditions to be just right, focusing on external stuff is like saying:
- I could be a better preacher if I had a nicer pulpit.
- We could have more baptisms if we just had a nicer baptistry.
- We would have bigger budget if we had better accounting software.
It’s fiddling. Plain and simple.
You can’t lose weight by buying a cooler treadmill. If you’re not using the heck out of the one you’ve got, buying a new one is only going to succeed in making two things you don’t want to be: fat and broke.
In fact, you don’t even need a treadmill at all, we have these wonderfully free analog devices called “roads” and “sidewalks” that, with a little effort should suit your purposes.
If you’re not changing with the people and resources you’ve got, then even if all those Christmas and Easter folks came the next week, nothing would be different. In fact, things might get considerably worse.
Most ministers are afraid in the deepest part of their souls of getting everything they’ve always said they needed.
Because if your wish list is completed, and you finally get everything you think you need to change (more volunteers, a better web site, an associate, the right associate, great leadership, a bigger parking lot, an oversubscribed budget, shade grown coffee and Barcaloungers in the narthex), what happens if things don’t change then?
If you think what’s at stake can be fixed by newer and better Barcaloungers, then this is the best I can do for you.
If you’re worried about equipping disciples for the reign of God, then get back to work. You’ve got all you need to do that right now.
You want to change? Then change.
“That’s easy for you to say.”
No. Well, it may be easy for me to say. But it’s not any easier for me to do than anyone else. I fight my own battles with resistance.
The question isn’t whether I’m perfect at it. The question is whether I’m right about it.
The fact still remains that if you think the culture of your church is going to change for the better if you wait long enough for everything to fall into place before you do the difficult work of transformation, you’re always going to find an excuse to die.