Toying with my coleslaw, I tuned in to the conversation at the other end of the table. (District Prayer Conference is a wonderful place to get inspiration and encouragement, as well as to get a feel for what lay people think about churches and pastors.)
A rotund and thickly bespectacled woman was clearly speaking to more than just her friends across the table. “I guess–for a new church–it’s a good one, but … ” Her voice trailed off, and her little audience leaned forward to get the real scoop. “They don’t have an evening service.”
Her listeners shook their heads.
“And you know what else?” She leaned forward, this time with even more graveness than before. “Pastor Marks doesn’t even want one!”
Eyes rolled heavenward, mouths opened wide, they stared at each other in disbelief.
Not in the mood for dessert, I quickly made an exit. They were talking about a daughter church ours had begun, and Pastor Marks was a good friend. It was true. Wilsonville Alliance Church did not have an evening service.
I was jealous. Very jealous.
FOUR STRIKES AGAINST IT
Fourteen years have passed since that overheard conversation, and since then my feelings about Sunday evening service have swung from negative to mildly positive, but it is not hard to recall why I viewed Sunday evenings with a combination of dread and distaste.
Fatigue.
Weekends are anything but relaxing for a pastor. As a youth pastor, I was usually out late on Saturday nights. Sunday morning the alarm went off at 6:30. I arrived at church around 8 A.M. for the 8:30 service. By Sunday night my adrenaline wanted to be down not up. I wanted to veg, not put on my suit and tie and pretend I was happy for yet another chance to be with the saints.
The pressure of the empty sanctuary.
As pastors we are not supposed to be overly concerned about noses and nickels, right? We aren’t trapped by the success syndrome, deriving our self-worth from the number of people who walk in when the janitor unlocks the sanctuary door, right? But I haven’t met a pastor yet who doesn’t pay attention–a great deal of attention–to those twin gauges of ministry success.
I felt if we were preaching the Word, if the people were spiritual, if the music was excellent, people would be eager to return to their pews Sunday night. But week after week a thousand eager people showed up Sunday morning, and seven hours later less than a hundred returned.
Our attendance on Sunday night was either bad or really bad. On really bad nights I whispered to myself, “It’s an ego-strength night.” It takes tremendous willpower to cheerfully lead a service in a virtually empty sanctuary.
Feeding the already fed.
Most of the people there on Sunday evening had already had personal devotions, a Sunday school lesson, and an hour of excellent worship and preaching. If they’re like me, they already felt well-nourished. More feeding on Sunday night was the last thing we needed.
The arm twisting that often goes with Sunday night.
In the last twenty years, I’ve been on staff at three churches with evening services. I’ve heard church leaders exhort the pastoral staff to “beef up” and “revitalize” the evening service. I’ve seen a good senior pastor branded as liberal for altering the Sunday night schedule to include quarterly home meetings. I’ve seen church leaders declare their opposition to a “dog and pony show” on Sunday night–films, outside musical groups, and other “entertainment”–and seen those same church leaders usually absent themselves on Sunday night except when we did have something special.
My negative attitude about Sunday night services, however, has moderated in recent years.
EVENING MEMORIES
First, I had to acknowledge that the evening service was and is meaningful to a subset of the congregation, mainly pre-baby-boomers. They have vivid memories of their younger days when churches were bulging on Sunday night. The music was dynamic, the preaching was evangelistic.
In that generation if you were spiritual, you attended church on Sunday nights. “Lukewarm” churches did not have evening services; good, Bible-believing churches did. That was the paradigm.
As a pastor I owe evening service attenders both respect and consideration. After all, they have had to make significant adjustments to other facets of church life. On Sunday morning I ask them to put up with guitars and synthesizer. I challenge them to support small group ministries. They have had to get used to the same church bulletin page announcing the Ladies Missionary Luncheon and the HIV Positive Support Group, the Adult Children of Alcoholics Group, and the Divorce Recovery Group. Problem people are coming out of the closet everywhere.
To many of the older generation, it is confusing, disturbing, and makes them feel insecure. Some worry that the church is being overrun by a godless culture.
These people are part of the church, and I respect that for them the evening service is a familiar, reassuring part of the church. Sunday evening is time for targeted ministry to our pre-boomers.
THE COMFORT OF CASUAL
The Bible does not say Sunday evening services must be in the sanctuary. In Seattle we changed location to the fellowship hall. We continued our usual style of service with singing and Bible teaching, but the atmosphere became more informal. Everyone–even the pastoral staff-stopped dressing up for Sunday night. We came casual and felt dose together in a small room instead of far apart in a large room.
In other words, we accepted that the culture has changed, that no matter what we did on Sunday night, short of cash rebates, we would not get the response of decades before. We stopped looking at Sunday night attendance as a spiritual issue. We freed ourselves from the burden of the empty sanctuary.
The evening service devotees weren’t thrilled initially about the change. They quickly adjusted, though. They saw the pastoral staff more relaxed and happy to minister. They liked the warm feeling of being together–reminded of the time when church seemed more like family.
I wasn’t as tired on Sunday nights. It helped that I didn’t have to dress up, and I found the new ambiance refreshing.
Time is passing. The percentage of pre-babyboomer Christians is declining as they make their inexorable march toward that heavenly home where the worship service never quits. As long as they find it a meaningful ministry, I will ungrudgingly give time to the Sunday evening service.
Copyright (c) 1994 Christianity Today, Inc./LEADERSHIP Journal
Copyright © 1994 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
