A sense of duty isn’t enough for long-haul motivation; a sense of purpose is.
—Roger Thompson
It was going to be great! A youth trip with a purpose. Out of our group of twenty-five high schoolers, twenty-two had signed up for seven days of nothing but service and discipleship. We were serious: eight hours of work each day, plus Scripture memory and Bible study.
We had talked up, psyched up, and signed up every available body. That’s what comes from good teaching, strategizing, and planning, I told myself. And the kids were even paying their own way!
The final week arrived. As I made call after call, the excuses mounted. Heavy pencil lines ran through all the leaders’ names … and most of the followers. I was reduced to begging. Instead of an impressive caravan of youth missionaries, we piled into one station wagon: four silent “fringe” teenagers, two sponsors, and myself. I was into Round One of an expensive lesson in leadership and motivation. I was angry and befuddled.
Motivation’s Mystery
Motivation is a suspect enterprise, a pseudo-science. It is loved or hated. Creating and maintaining motivation among God’s people is variously viewed as carnal mass manipulation, flim-flam fund-raising, or somewhere between B. F. Skinner and the black arts.
But motivation is an unavoidable part of any people ministry. Avoidance, fear, or ignorance of the motivational dynamics in a congregation is disastrous both occupationally and spiritually.
I’ve known churches on both extremes in their views of motivation, and either polarity eventually freezes spiritual health.
One extreme is the bigger-and-better Siss-Boom-Bah hype. “We can do it if we each do our part!” Its stock-in-trade is contagious enthusiasm, colorful charts or graphs or thermometers, achievable goals, and constant reinforcement. Every program is launched by means of visible reward. Numbers are important. Busyness abounds. But what happens when the tents are folded and the ringmaster packs away the megaphone?
No wonder church members who have seen eight pastors come and go are skeptical and tired when we drag out the latest incentives. Often these faithful attenders have never felt valued, trusted, or worthwhile. They are always expected to jump—just like they did thirty years ago—when the pastor says, “Here’s the plan.” Many who are labeled “burned out” simply want to be treated as grown-ups.
The other extreme for supposed spiritual giants is the disdain-of-anything-tangible school. This approach implies we shouldn’t have to work at motivating people. It is beneath the dignity of mature Christians to publicize, thank, or reinforce. All truly spiritual motivation is invisible, intrinsic, mysteriously implanted all at once by God at the time of one’s conversion. This sense of duty fuels the loftiest motives of life. No pit stops allowed. We simply call upon that sense of “oughtness” whenever a job needs to be done.
A sell-out to either of these extremes eventually results in anemic, reluctant compliance by a congregation. Absent is the joy of serving, the want-to motivation so necessary for long-term effectiveness.
While the success sellers like Zig Ziglar have turned motivation into a major new service industry, few churches are able to heavily invest in that movement. Nor are they inclined to. Many churches and Christian leaders have discovered a much less expensive incentive: guilt.
Guilt Gets ‘Em Going (for a While)
Many of us, wittingly or not, expect a lot from guilt. It is the leverage we use to prop up a sagging budget, enlist volunteers for the nursery, or get movement down the aisles.
Guilt often becomes the pastor’s closest and most effective associate. When it comes to getting people moving, it just plain works! And after all, we might ask, why shouldn’t people feel guilty for not participating? Not giving? Not serving?
But things are not always as they seem. Guilt, in fact, is a lousy motivator, effective only in the short run. It is a merciless taskmaster and a joyless mentor. Guilt is an impetus with diminishing returns. It is a major cause of the musical-chairs memberships being exchanged in many metropolitan churches.
Chuck, for instance, was a skilled technician who installed the new sound system in his church, ran the tape ministry, sang in the choir, and repaired the organ. As a new Christian, he felt constrained to do whatever the pastoral staff asked of him. The pressing needs and his overactive conscience always kept him overcommitted. After two years of four-nights-a-week service, however, he finally gave up. Quit completely. He went off seeking a church where he could find some rest.
When that happens, something basic is missing. What is worse, a counterfeit has passed for the truth.
All of us, of course, must deal with real guilt. Sin and sloth, when exposed by the piercing ministry of the Holy Spirit, place us guilty before God. It is with God we must deal, for he has convicted us. But real guilt is a warning light, a corrective leading to repentance and forgiveness. It is not meant to fuel the Christian enterprise.
When people run on guilt, it is like burning regular gasoline in a car designed for unleaded. There is no initial difference in performance. In fact, the first fill-up is cheaper. But eventually the system begins to clog. Power diminishes; the wheels stop rolling.
Our churches are strewn with many such rusting hulks. After the stewardship campaign, the visitation blitz, and the Sunday school recruiting drive, inertia often sets in, the residue of being fueled with guilt.
What is missing is a creative environment where guilt-free, confident Christians pursue a few things wholeheartedly. Reaching this enriching environment does not require groping in dark, shrouded mystery. It has a lot to do with applying genuine biblical motivation.
The Christian walk is meant to take place amid freedom, peace, perseverance, and joy. Guilt is the warning signal that repentance (not more activity), forgiveness (not greater responsibilities), and restoration (not fancier incentives) are needed. Renewed freedom—release—is the result, not increasing bondage.
True want-to motivation instilled by God can be a reality. And it lasts.
Capturing and maintaining this lifelong motivation for God’s work is no small sideline. It cannot be conjured up by intermittent trickery whenever attendance begins to lag or teaching vacancies appear. Rather, motivation is the consistent craftsmanship of a leader, and it demands continual nurture.
The Right Rewards
It is probably safe to say that the average lifelong member of a church has been “incentived” to death. Countless attendance thermometers have risen to the top as he invited friends to Sunday school rallies. Pins, Bibles, trips, titles, and strokes have been dangled, and he has pulled like the lead husky. But if the pressure is released or the campaign is less slick, does the performance continue? Has he learned a spiritual discipline, or has he simply salivated under the right stimuli?
A brief glance at God’s original design, I feel, helps bring clarity and balance to our use of rewards.
In Genesis, people were created with something to do. From the very beginning, we were given the capacity to “rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air,” to subdue the earth and fill it, and to work the garden. The Imago Dei is expressed in dominion and work.
This affects our view of motivation and reward. Work really matters! Our strivings do not have to relate exclusively to the sweet by-and-by. To stay motivated is to find reward in one’s work. The Bible does not argue this; it assumes it. People are rewarded naturally by seeing that they are actually working, not merely staying busy.
The greatest reward is seeing progress and achievement in something you perceive as eternally significant.
But note: The newer the venture, the less developed my talents, the more fear I have. In these areas an achievable goal is paramount. When people are just beginning, immediate reinforcement is more important. If the job appears too big or the reward too far off, many will not risk the venture.
During the poverty days of seminary, necessity spurred my wife and me to begin building our own furniture. A close friend would often stop and chat, asking questions about lumber, costs, glue, and tools. When I challenged him to build some items for himself, he would back away, claim lack of aptitude, and retreat to his studies.
One Christmas, however, Phil wanted to surprise his wife with a small shelf for her spices. He came for advice, but what he got was encouragement. Every step was cause for counsel and deliberation. He drew plans, figured board footage, and asked about finish and mounting. Pointers may have been helpful, but the real task was helping to overcome the intimidation of actually doing it. Support was the real curriculum.
My friend has long since surpassed my ambitions and abilities. He has produced a houseful of early-American furniture, a custom-made wood stove, and, most recently, he designed and built an active solar family room! Small incentives don’t guarantee great advances, but they help insure that first steps will be taken. And who knows where that will lead?
Though we discouraged people from asking, “What’s in it for me?” we do well, whenever we begin a new program, to ask, “Can my people find legitimate and immediate reward in participating?”
Obviously, this can be abused. But remember, we are addressing only the initial steps of behavior, not the full scope of character development. It is possible to modify behavior without touching the person, so caution must be taken.
While raising our children, I discovered the power of rewards, as are a host of parents today facing the momentous task of potty training, room cleaning, or household chores. They are finding that good behavior can be launched by the promise of a shiny star on a chart. Similarly, the mountain of Christian discipleship can be broken down into achievable bits, culminating in appropriate rewards. Verbal kudos, personal affirmation, progress reports, and shared enthusiasm over a job well done are some of the tools to be employed. Paul did this with Timothy, Jesus with his disciples.
The impetus of incentive is most necessary at the beginning, and it can produce phenomenal short-term results. The key is the perceived value of the incentive.
On the bicycle trips we have taken each year with our youth group, we have traveled about 350 miles through the Colorado Rockies in five rather stressful days. One of the disciplines we want to instill during all those hours in the saddle is memorizing a life-related Bible verse each day. We have discovered an incentive that has never failed: No verse, no lunch. Verses get memorized!
On a one-week trip this produces tremendous results. As a weekly expectation in a Sunday school class, it would undoubtedly become a motivation problem. But the very experience of progress instills confidence and circumvents excuses. All of us need to be shown that we can succeed in spiritual enterprise. Sound incentives can insure a successful launch.
Worthy pursuits, noble achievements, and world-changing strategies all have discernible milestones. Incentive, extrinsic reward, and reinforcement need not be disdained if we understand their function. They are simply not the whole picture. Another aspect needs equal recognition.
Right Relationships
Without a shared excitement, any discipline can become lifeless plodding. Without a sense of teamwork and support, we risk burnout or latent bitterness.
Lone Ranger workers may continue for years, but they often have a degenerating perspective. They may feel unappreciated, perhaps perceiving themselves as martyrs. Frequently, this attitude is well disguised but flares up at the suggestion of change, improvement, or evaluation.
The Creation account provides us with a second essential quality of mankind. We are uniquely relational. Men and women were created to be in continuing relationships with God and each other.
In the Garden, Adam and Eve knew they mattered. This unconditional love from God and each other was to produce purpose, confidence, and lasting motivation.
This may help us understand why after seeing a midweek club ministry grow from twelve to one hundred, Mike and Sue burned out. They felt unappreciated. Their ministry, though productive, was isolated from pastoral or parental relationships. They labored on without appreciation, support, or integration with the whole. Their once-tenacious spirit gave way to disappointment, discouragement, and feelings of alienation. They had accomplished much, but how did it fit? Who cared? Did it really matter to anyone? Their hearts’ questions went sadly unanswered. They needed a significant relationship to remind them it mattered to the people of the church, and most of all, to God. Their piece of the puzzle had eternal significance.
This dual aspect of man’s nature helps us understand why we do not live by incentive alone. To simply move from one achievement to another without intimate personal partnership with God is meaningless. The greatest achiever of all time, Solomon, concluded that.
The mysterious internal combustion called motivation is sustained even in the absence of extrinsic rewards when one knows he or she is important to a worthy cause. This fuels tenacity—pushing ahead over obstacles, around barriers, and through darkness. When discernible reinforcements have long since disappeared, this motivation remains. It is sustained most often by sharing the enterprise in a quality relationship.
Crises poignantly remind us of our fundamental need for relationships. Conflict, grief, perceived failure, or loss of direction can quickly strip us of the virile motivation we knew during easier days.
Like every other person on planet Earth, conflict is my least favorite exercise. But as every Christian worker has discovered, it is sometimes unavoidable.
As I recently faced a season of misunderstanding and sleep-disturbing conflict, my motivation was sorely tested. Everything lost its luster; it was a time of emotional dullness, physical fatigue, and futile efforts. The phone became the conveyor of bad news; church growth seemed less important than personal survival.
In God’s grace, however, I was surrounded with veteran spiritual warriors who refused to accept my interpretation of life. They painted the horizon a different color than I was able to see. While affirming my growing awareness of my blind spots, they doggedly refused to let me retreat. I was reminded of our corporate responsibility before God. My strengths were called upon, and my contributions were in demand.
Sustained by the richness of those relationships, the motivation to endure, learn, and overcome was kept alive. Motivation that lasts is fueled with love, respect, and appreciation. Much spiritual work, by its very nature, precludes external incentives. How precious at those times is the cadre of caregivers.
Right Purpose
Five couples met to discuss their Sunday school class. These were the faithful and the teachable. But their enthusiasm for their young-marrieds class was faltering. Week after week they experienced frustration. The atmosphere was not friendly, the lessons were not stimulating, and the social hours were sparsely attended. They weren’t ready to quit—they were in it to the bitter end—but they were being reduced to mere endurance with little vibrancy or expectation.
As we talked, numerous agendas became apparent. Some felt the hour on Sunday needed more “meat.” Others thought it should concentrate on relationships. Still others perceived too much time was wasted on coffee and donuts.
Once these struggles were heard, we reviewed our philosophy of ministry for adult Sunday school and placed its purpose in perspective with other ministries of the church. For us, Sunday school falls between the two extremes of Bible college and coffee klatch. We want to present life-size segments of sound biblical teaching wrapped in an outgoing, affirming atmosphere that anyone can enter. The standards for leadership need to be high, the entry qualifications low. We want to teach for the insiders but structure socially for the outsiders so they will be drawn in.
That automatically eliminated many of the frustrations. The couples saw it was not a choice of either/or, but both/and. They stopped fighting the agenda war and began planning for growth.
We brainstormed how the hour could be structured, leadership selected, and plans laid. That renewed the drive of those involved to make the class count. They were reminded of its relationship to the whole and were thereby liberated to concentrate on doing a few things well. Motivation returned.
A sense of duty isn’t enough for a long-haul motivation; a sense of purpose is.
William James said, “Habit is the flywheel of society.” Habits carry us through lives that are constantly under change and stress. Good habits in the church—such as giving, serving, teaching, or ushering—often thrive in people who have no elaborate or discernible reward system. Apparently they find meaning and joy in the enterprise itself. Such behaviors are the bedrock of church programs. We all value this kind of consistency.
However, purpose must be evaluated even among our most faithful people. The repetition of behavior without purpose can sour even the most faithful. Scripture repeatedly warns us of the dangers of performance without purpose, sacrifice without love. It is the essence of pharisaism. Giving is to be cheerful—work “as unto the Lord,” service “in love,” and correction “in gentleness.” Workers can easily lose their connection to the whole enterprise, which not only stalls personal motivation but bottles up others who want to participate.
The more established the behavior, the more important its constant realignment to God’s purpose. Means too easily become ends, thereby stifling freshness, growth, and teachability. Constantly renewing our vision helps us avoid complacency and averts demotivating battles over the status quo.
How can we help people maintain contact with ultimate purpose?
First, help people work together on tasks, rather than alone. Teamwork can be a guardian of perspective. Since people work is by nature an exercise in incompletion, we need others to help us maintain healthy vision.
Rick, Dave, and John have been working together in a singles ministry. As they have merged their separate gifts, strength has been obvious. There are still disappointments and an adequate dose of conflicts, but what is different in this shared stewardship is the endurance of vision. One lifts up the other (Eccl. 4:10). Teamwork places a net under wounded leaders. It catches them, nurtures, reminds, and recycles. Without that kind of support, spiritual warfare is often overwhelming. Rick, Dave, and John pray together, learn together, and struggle together. And together they have not lost sight of their ultimate purpose.
Second, I try to teach and preach how God’s timeless plan is translated into human action. Even while propounding the Great Commission, it helps to give illustrations from living models. Not only does it illustrate the biblical command but also refuels the joyful purpose in our ministries. As Henri Nouwen has reflected: “If there is anything that makes the ministry look grim and dull, it is this dark, insidious anger in the servants of Christ.” By using our sermons to point people to positive examples of faithfulness, we help build a motivated congregation.
One of these living illustrations is a church member who is now in his eighties. Most of his life was spent as a missionary and pastor. Now, because cancer has kept him housebound, he participates in our fellowship via cassette tapes. He recently wrote me a note: “Thanks so much for the tapes. We enjoy them and play them Sunday mornings, a little earlier than your service, adjusted to our aches and pains and weaknesses. We put on the clothes we would probably be wearing if we were going to the service. We follow the bulletin and the Scriptures, and we are ordering a hymnbook so we can follow the hymns.”
To call that “motivation” doesn’t do justice to the depth of such a life. Here is commitment spurred on despite diminishing returns, a flame that will not be extinguished by hardships, a life fueled by the worship of God himself.
This is the type of character we envision when we are fueling those who are beginning the journey. Self-sustaining fellowship with God is its own reward.
Copyright © 1997
