Pastors

A Message from the Publisher: January 01, 1981

Right in the middle of our putting this issue on success together, we received a letter from Bill De Leo of Maryland which said, among other things: “I’m a tragedy. I have such a bundle of feelings inside it’s difficult to express them.

“I read avidly. I read searching to find a place for me in the center ring. Reading LEADERSHIP frustrates the daylights out of me. My head spins after each issue. The answers are inspired- too inspired.

“My Sunday morning Bible study is the most eventful thing in my life. The people there have made dramatic steps forward in their Christian walks. And I know LEADERSHIP’s writers would tell me this is the heart of a satisfying ministry. But it isn’t enough for me.

“There are a lot of beautiful, committed, unsuccessful people ministering out here. And, like me, they’re not likely to find a place of recognition in the church world.

“I first awakened to my agony of thwarted ambition late one evening last summer. My heart throbbed with every thump of my running shoes on the beaten path out behind our military living quarters. Earlier that day I’d been told I had been passed over for selection to Major in the United States Army Chaplaincy. As I ran, sweat and tears mingled together on my cheeks.

“Poor baby or no, I was shattered. My question was ‘How hard do I have to work and how good do I have to be to be considered capable of handling a promotion? A lot of civilian ministers ask the same question of their superiors who seek others for the preferred churches. Success seems to go to the beautiful.

“The process brought me through bitterness, anger, coolness, disappointment. I lost nearly every possibility of becoming humanly successful in my life’s ambition. I didn’t let down. I worked hard and longer and better. But that didn’t change the reality of shattered dreams and false hopes. …

“I’m sorry. I got carried away. Like I was saying. I was reading LEADERSHIP, and the greatness I felt within me brought tears to my eyes because I knew that no one would ever notice.”

Bill’s last paragraph strikes me as particularly true to the human condition. Made in God’s image, called to “create” with him, we long to express our unique gifts. We are to offer them to God, but we look for human feedback to “see how we’re doing”-and sometimes all we get is a yawn.

It’s easy to criticize Bill for wanting “a place in the centerring.” But sometimes such critiques don’t really help, especially when they come from “successful” people. Two examples from the last two weeks come to mind. First, for our problems column, we were working on a letter from a pastor locked into a discouraging rural setting. After reviewing reams of our good advice, I wondered how much help our successful, thoughtful panel would be to this man. Second, for the letter we actually used (see page 10) for this issue, we wrote, rewrote, added, subtracted; but we still didn’t have the answers. Sometimes there simply are no pragmatic, fix-it solutions.

Whether it’s the highly placed who straight-arm the newcomer or lack of ability, life is essentially unfair. Even if someone has great talent, “the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong . . . but time and chance happen to them all” (Ecc. 9:11). We’ve seen from interviews that magazines and seminars in which “successful” people tell the “unsuccessful” how to do it can become an especial irritant to those who struggle in the shadows. Those who most need affirming often get the least.

Yet, for all this on the human level, the ultimate release comes in such statements as from Thomas a Kempis, “Love to be unknown in the world,” and Jesus’ reversal of the idea of greatness: “He who is least among you. … ” We become leaders, in

Jesus’ steps, by becoming servant of all. When we were developing names for this journal, the only other one under serious discussion was “Servant.” If we are to lead, we must humbly (and therefore joyfully) serve.

Yes, some will appear more successful than others. But that is an earthly judgment. We need human feedback to improve ourselves, but when we fear the critique of man, we worship man instead of God. When man rejects, we cringe. When man applauds, we become conceited.

We all-as Paul Tournier points out so well in his article-struggle in much the same way. The successful want more success. One step up whets the appetite for the next.

Francis Schaeffer, in his book No Little People, says this:

Jesus commands Christians to seek consciously the lowest room. All of us . . . are tempted to say, ‘I will take the larger place because it will give me more influence for Jesus Christ.’ We fall prey to the temptation of rationalizing this way as we build bigger and bigger empires. But according to the Scripture this is backwards. We should consciously take the lowest place unless the Lord himself extrudes us into a greater one.

“The word extrude is important here. To be extruded is to be forced out under pressure into a desired shape. Picture a huge press jamming soft metal at high pressure through a die so the metal comes out in a certain shape. This is the way of the Christian: He should choose the lesser place until God extrudes him into a position of more responsibility and authority.”

Tough advice? Yes. But when we truly see ourselves-all of us-on the same level before the Cross, we see the ultimate irrelevance of man’s “success” and “failure.”

Harold L. Myra President, Christianity Today, Inc.

Copyright © 1981 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Pastors

BOOK COMMENTARY

A Theology of Church Leadership by Lawrence O. Richards and Clyde Hoeldtke Zondervan, $12.95 Reviewed by David Lim Academic Dean, Western Pentecostal Bible College, Clayburn, British Columbia Canada

Church leadership has been on a quest for identity over the past twenty years seeking the answers to several questions. Is there a truly biblical theology of leadership? Can modern management methods apply to church work? Is pragmatism the key test?- does it bring souls into the kingdom of God? Or, should we simply listen to what God tells us for our particular situations?

As church leaders from every social, economic, educational, and denominational background wrestled with these leadership questions, several intriguing ideas emerged.

Elton Trueblood (The Encourager) pictured the pastor as the coach of a team, enabling it to win the game. His joy came from watching his players develop ability and insight to fulfill their functions.

Findley Edge (The Greening of the Church) felt the church should be like a miniature theological seminary in which the key enablers specialize in their areas of ministry and lead the congregation to exercise their gifts in spiritual and social concerns. The key purpose of the church is to educate for practical living in Christ.

Bruce Larson and Keith Miller (The Passionate People) brought in the emphasis on relational ministry and interaction in small groups. A church should be a place of openness where hurt humanity could identify with fellow humans, and acceptance would not be based on achievement, but on personhood.

Ray Stedman (Body Life) focused on each member finding his ministry within the body of Christ and sharing it. Laymen were to be involved in every area of leadership.

With the breakdown of authority in society and increasing permissiveness came a reaction in the church to the idea of democratic forms within the church and family. Men like Bill Gothard (chain of command) and Jay Adams (confrontational counseling) in evangelical circles, and Bob Mumford and Juan Carlos Ortiz (shepherding) in charismatic circles confronted people with the authority of the Word of God and of the elders and church leaders. The need was for obedience.

Peter Wagner (Your Church Can Grow) and others of the church growth school believe strongly in diversities of gifts in different Christians. Some lead as ranchers would, bringing in different people to handle the different flocks; some are more like shepherds who handle the flocks alone.

In recent years Christian authors have applied modern management theories in speaking to the crisis problems of the church today. Ted Engstrom, Edward Dayton, Robert Schuller, and others feel this to be imperative.

A Theology of Church Leadership by Lawrence Richards and Clyde Hoeldtke completes the spectrum on the current discussion and is a unique contribution. Their point is that only a truly biblical theology of servanthood will lead to the proper methods to reach the goal of Christlikeness, of being the incarnation of Christ in this world. This latest contribution to church leadership theory needs to be more closely examined.

For purposes of discussion we can probably isolate four styles of leadership from these experts.

Chain of command phraseology was popularized by Bill Gothard. Leaders such as Jack Hyles personify its presuppositions and goals. Such leaders are highly revered for sacrifice, ability, and charisma. The theology is related to “old-fashioned fundamentalism.” Failure in laity comes from lack of obedience. The organizations are tight, efficient, and highly demanding. Emphases may vary-soul winning, ministering gifts, or doing the work of the church-but the key methods involve following the pastor’s lead and direction.

Modem management involves the best theory available in the management field for job descriptions, organizational charts, planning, leading, organizing, controlling, and staffing. For greatest efficiency, one must follow the rules of interaction and proper respect of fellow-workers.

The pragmatic approach notes that churches grow in different ways with different leaders and varying philosophies. Leadership should not be based on any one model, but on the best way to reach the community. The emphasis is on making the church a “go” structure rather a “come” structure. We are fishers of men, not keepers of the aquarium. Since homogeneous church growth appears to be the most effective in reaching more people, that method is preferred to seeking heterogeneous growth in a multiplicity of cultures. The pragmatic approach would accept any of the other three approaches and study their successes in terms of quantity and quality.

Servant theology is one of the most stimulating, creative approaches of recent years, yet Richards and Hoeldtke claim it is as old as the New Testament church. The malaise of the church is blamed on a wrong perspective of what the church really is and, therefore, a wrong emphasis on what it does. If the church is the body and Christ is the head, it implies that leadership functions belong uniquely to Christ. The body is an organism, not an organization; people are more important than projects. Here are some of the book’s key points:

¥ The church exists to edify itself and to build people into the full image of Christ, not to win the world or accomplish certain programs.

¥ The task of ministry in the world belongs to Christians, individually or in groups. If the church would truly be the incarnation of Christ, then individual members would fulfill the tasks. The issue in our churches is to minister to one another, not administrate or manage.

¥ Policy making, goal setting, and decision making belong to Jesus, not human beings. If Jesus is Lord of the church, then trust him to use the organism.

¥ Leaders lead, not by demanding, but by modeling the Christ-life in all the truths they teach verbally. Modeling is best accomplished in relationships with people, in families, and even in informal situations.

¥ A church that is project oriented cannot be people oriented. The Christian church is the unique organization in the world that is totally people oriented. Christians have no strength to fulfill their tasks until they gain it in fellowship and ministry within the body of Christ.

¥ No organizational method of modern management is genuinely geared to meet human needs, according to McGregor’s Theory Y. respecting man’s need for self-actualization and fulfillment. Human organizations put the enterprise before the person. Persons are used to meet the ends, as in McGregor’s Theory X.

Richards hits out at glaring problems in the church today. Sunday school teachers seem to impart knowledge, but no corresponding change of lifestyle. Many churches institutionalize ministry as jobs in the church rather than functions of an organism sharing gifts with One another. External form is substituted for internal life.

Board members, Sunday school teachers, youth leaders, and others are quitting because of overwork and pressure-not desiring another church position. Frustrated by failure, they feel no support and life from the rest of the body of Christ except as they fulfill certain role expectations.

Very little interaction among members of the body takes place. Communication is usually one-way and at best two-way, rather than in context with other members of the body of Christ.

Churches today focus on human leaders instead of allegiance to one another and to the head, Jesus Christ. They seek harmony at any cost rather than openness and interaction in the body. They seek personal rights rather than a shared life; doctrinal issues, legalism, and dogma rather than the Lordship of Christ; measures of spirituality instead of genuine prayer, worship, sharing of gifts, and bearing of personal responsibility.

Richards admits that a servant leader might look weak and indecisive to some. He will seek consensus with his leadership team as they pray concerning God’s will in their decisions. He might suffer persecution from those who want him to take a more forward, managerial approach. But he will be following the one New Testament pattern that will lead to openness, sharing, spontaneity, creativity, and life in the church.

Few will disagree with Richards’ section on building allegiance in the church, but many would rather not accept the presupposition that allegiance to persons can be built only into an organism and not an enterprise. Most churches fall into the category of enterprise.

Richards is at the avant-garde of creative Christian thinking. He stimulates my thinking and bothers me. That’s why I read his material. I like to be bothered with new ideas that shake me out of my security and ease in Zion. I want to challenge him. That’s why I want to suggest the following tentative critique of what is presented in this book.

First, if Richards and Hoeldtke are right in their presuppositions, then all church management styles are wrong, even if souls are saved and people grow in Christ and find a rich experience in serving God; for in the long term, that church will degenerate to enterprise. Is Richards reacting to a domineering type leadership, overstating to make a point, or possibly seeing a number of unique growth situations that follow the servant pattern? Do these men feel this is the one pattern for every culture, church, and situation? They seem to feel it is the New Testament pattern.

Second, is the interrelationship between organism and organization being underestimated? These men infer that the church has no enterprise or organizational tasks in the traditional sense. Does not the body have any other duties than that of building itself up? Did Paul have enterprise in mind as he established churches and sought their growth? If not, why the split with John Mark after the first missionary journey, and why the change of heart years later when Paul says of Mark, “He is profitable to- me for ministry” (II Timothy 4:11)? Mark had not come up to Paul’s earlier expectations, but finally matured as a useful vessel.

With Richards and Hoeldtke, enterprise ministries are the responsibility of individuals, groups, or parachurch organizations, and building the body is the task of the church. Can one make such a distinction between the finger and the body? Cannot enterprise build the body? If Richards says yes, then much of the task of edification can be accomplished through enterprise. If the answer is no, then the exercise of the body’s parts has nothing to do with the building of the body. Maybe the issue is not “either organism or organization.” Maybe it’s a matter of degree.

Third, is this view the biblical one? Without doubt, servant thinking is integral to any biblical view of leadership. Richards and Hoeldtke imply that Old Testament leadership failed and was not an organism in its nature. While the New Testament church does not follow the Temple pattern, many similarities could be related to the Tabernacle, God’s organization of Israel in the wilderness, and God speaking charismatically through kings, judges, and prophets.

The dynamic of the organism is dependent not only on the interaction of the body, but on the touch of the Spirit. This may explain why many churches are surging ahead and throbbing with vitality using traditional management methods.

Servant leadership implies consensus among the leaders before action is taken. Moses couldn’t use this pattern. Jesus made unilateral decisions. Paul declared his judgment as an apostle as he administered discipline. Was there total consensus in Acts 15? If so, why the persistent problems in the churches on the issue of Christian liberty? Could “Christ the head” ultimately degenerate into consensus leadership, or at best, a forced consensus? The issue of power is not fully resolved in servant theology.

Fourth, cannot a leader be task oriented and yet develop programs in light of gifts and ministries in the congregation, and help the members find their places in the body of Christ? If we start developing people, can we not lead on to fulfillment of the Great Commission through those same people-the church? In other words, can we not have enterprise in organism, and even develop stronger organism as we strive for certain enterprises?

Fifth, a servant-relational organism will not necessarily result in mission to a lost world. As Richards and Hoeldtke admit, that is the task of individual Christians in enterprise. The sovereign Lord of the harvest must lead individual Christians in their ministries to the world. But Christian groups thrive not only upon interaction, but upon mission that is external to that organism, a mission that is integral to being the people of God-the church.

Perhaps I am simply reacting to a creatively new approach to leadership. I may ultimately agree with them as I continue on my pilgrimage-they say so many crucially important things. We cannot lightly dismiss proposals in this well written, documented, and thoroughly researched book. It is must reading for all who are seriously involved in Christian leadership.

Ministering to Youth- A Strategy for the ’80s. Edited by David Roadcup Standard Publishing, $5.95 pb Reviewed by Nate Adams, Youth Director, First Baptist Church, St. Charles, Ill.

Unintimidated by the uncertainty of the ’80s and the traditional unpredictability associated with youth, Roadcup has compiled a comprehensive primer for today’s youth minister. The chapters are written by leaders in their fields and include almost every facet of youth work.

The book opens with a historical analysis of youth culture. In the progression from agrarian to industrial to post-industrial society, the transitional period dubbed “youth” has changed dramatically

Faster physical maturation and faster social and cultural changes create a frightening awareness in youth that the type of life they’re preparing for has never been experienced by prior generations. The ’60s and ’70s in particular produced a “youth subculture” characterized by unique values and norms.

“This situation doesn’t reduce or minimize the role of the family or the church for youth,” Roadcup maintains, “but intensifies the obligations of each to provide nurture, acceptance, loving understanding, and practice in problem solving for youth. Although parents cannot lead their children where they have not been themselves, they can lead as to how they got where they are.”

The next chapters focus on the youth minister and the goal that he sees as transformation to Christlikeness. How? To summarize a chapter: “If the Scripture is taught for response, the Holy Spirit is given free reign in people’s lives, and adult models will build loving relationships with youth and share life experiences. Over time, young people might come to live the kind of lives we’ve dreamed of. If these conditions are not met, no program, however attractive and well attended, will have any worth.”

Practical helps given for reaching the goal include in-depth discipleship, effective Bible study, large-and-small group fellowship, and authentic service. Roadcup then shows how the youth minister can involve others and obtain help in the ministry. “The superstructure of any solid youth ministry,” he says, “is the development of a qualified adult volunteer staff.” Here the author targets one of the greatest needs, and often one of the greatest weaknesses, of youth ministers today. He zeros in on zealous young do-it-yourselfers whose approach often leads to frustration. Roadcup sets forth some basic qualities to look for in youth workers and outlines a practical program for counselor recruitment and training.

Other valuable resources offered are sections on getting started in youth ministry and on planning a year’s approach. Administrative aids and creative ideas are explored along with an examination of the interview-call process, and the youth minister’s relationship to the senior minister.

Fortunately, Roadcup does not consider a solid, on-target ministry to the youth group as a complete strategy. Contributing writers deal with youth evangelism and developing leadership in youth. Les Christie writes, “We, as youth ministers, have tended to become keepers of the aquarium instead of fishers of men, and our kids are bloated from always taking in Christ’s love, but never giving it out. Evangelism must begin not with an ‘I ought to’ attitude, but with an ‘I must’ motivation.” With this statement as a premise, Christie lays down a structure for starting an effective outreach program, and outlines simple presentations of the gospel and personal testimonies.

A closely-related section offers suggestions for recruiting and nurturing youth leaders and motivating them to lead. “If you want to motivate kids, look at them with God’s eyes, seeing what they can become.” Young people must be praised, and even more important, they must be allowed to fail.

The closing section is an excellent smorgasbord on social activities, drama, choir, puppets, and retreats. A 32-page appendix listing books and other resources adds further help.

This is a book that combines a good balance of the theoretical and the practical. There is variety in approach, but unity in strategy.

The Positive Power of Jesus Christ by Norman Vincent Peale Tyndale House, $8.95 Reviewed by William G. Enright Pastor, First Presbyterian Church. Glen Ellyn. 111.

What is the gospel we preachers proclaim? Do we announce good news or blather bleak warnings? Do our sermons conjure up guilt and insult self-worth, or do we free people to dream as we excite their innate curiosity for God? Is our preaching an invitation to joy or a summons to judgment? Do our pulpits put people in touch with their balcony thoughts or their cellar fears? As word dealers, does our language entice listeners to strike out on the fast-moving expressway of divine grace or does it encourage detours as we build barricades inhibiting spiritual yearnings? These were some of the questions disturbing my mind as I read this book.

To be honest, I liked Peale the preacher, but felt Peale the author might be little more than the patron saint of pop pulpit psychology. Now I admit it I was both prejudiced and wrong. More important, in my snobbishness, I was blocking out part of the preacher’s world of reality: the person in the pew. Peale has his finger on the pulse of the men and women coming to hear us preach Sunday after Sunday.

Too frequently I associate big words with big thoughts, and complex sentences with profound ideas. It took someone such as Peale to remind me that awesome thoughts can be couched in simple phrases. Theology can be told via story and anecdote. As Peale has discovered, the people in the pews simply want to know what difference the gospel makes where they live.

Peale has caught what we preachers too often miss. Authentic communication has no place for cant or the camp, for the chic or the cliche. He comes across as simple without being simplistic. With him, as with most effective preachers, true profundity is always packaged in simplicity and attractively wrapped in the vitals of life.

Summer is my time to map my preaching for the coming year. As l wrestled with sermon themes and biblical texts, Peale forced me to ask three additional questions:

1. What do I preach? Is it good news proclaimed in a positive way? For Peale, “the power of Jesus Christ is, indeed, positive and life-changing.” Why? Because the gospel is “more positive and infinitely stronger than any negative forces arrayed against it.” As Peale says, “The positive power of Jesus Christ is without limits. By constantly stressing the message that faith in Jesus Christ changes lives, and by witnessing to this phenomenon in every possible medium . . . I’ve seen some amazing results of the power.”

From St. Paul to Peale, preachers have insisted that their charter is to preach Christ. Why does Peale call it the positive power of Christ? For him, the reason is autobiographical. As a young preacher, he came to grips with his own sense of inferiority in his struggle to find himself, and discovered this power. A great plus in this book is that it opens the window to the soul of Peale the preacher and Peale the man; his integrity shines through-the man and his message are one.

2. How do I preach? Peale seems to say: positively, practically, and with gusto and with an eye on the person in the pew. This book throbs with story, anecdote, and personal diary. It has something visceral about it. The appeal is more to the will and the imagination than to cold reason. One clue to Peale’s effectiveness both in the pulpit and in print is his daring to be himself .

3. Wherein lies the power of preaching? For some, the power is in the intellect; for others, it’s the polished phrase. For most of us, it is sheer, dogged discipline and hard work. For Peale, the power of preaching is belief in the power of Jesus Christ. He believes that the belief of the preacher, via proclamation, can become the belief of the listener. He is convinced that preaching Christ’s power brings about astonishing changes in people’s lives. Yet because the power belongs to God, he can sit back and let God be God. He does not try to typecast the way God should work. In the sermon, the preacher becomes a channel for the power, and simply lets it happen. As Luther said at the time of the Reformation: “The Word did everything. I did nothing. The gospel simply ran its course.”

As I read this book, I was goaded and challenged to take a new look at my preaching. As I closed the book, I also felt as though I were off the hook. The power belongs to God, for the power is God. As Peale puts it:

“The power to remake a person from weakness to strength, from failure to success, from hopelessness to creative achievement-this is the positive power of Jesus Christ in action. There is no romance, no creativity to equal it. Here we have the greatest of all human dramas-that of change from the worst to the best-and all due to spiritual power working in d human being.”

I feel ready to preach again.

The Energy-efficient Church by Total Environmental Action The Pilgrim Press, $4.95 pb. Reviewed by Daniel W. Pawley, Assistant Editor, LEADERSHIP

Why send money up your chimney? Based on a thorough energy conservation analysis of three churches in Massachusetts, this practical book shows how to realize savings of up to 50 percent of your annual energy use (thousands of dollars per year) for only hundreds of dollars in investment.

For winter conservation, have a heating contractor check the efficiency of the burner in your church’s heating plant. A tune-up will not reduce your building’s need for heat, but it will reduce its need for fuel, and your church will save hundreds of dollars.

Many church heating plants cycle on and off too frequently if the plant is oversized for the actual heating needs of the church. By reducing the size of the fuel intake nozzle, or the size ‘of the burner motor, you can greatly increase efficiency. An expert can assess your situation and perform the necessary alterations at low cost. This may increase your heating plant’s efficiency as much as 30 percent.

If you climb on top of your church’s roof this winter and huddle around the chimney, you might find enough heat for a Bible study or a board meeting. By installing an automatic stack damper which closes when the burner cycles off, you can eliminate the waste

of heat escaping up the chimney. In the three churches, installations of the stack damper ran between $200 and $700; and the range of savings was between $90 and $1627. Warning: compare estimated costs and benefits carefully.

Another important conservation measure is an annual check of your heating distribution system. Pipes and ducts which run through unheated spaces should be well insulated. In steam systems, the radiator valves sometimes allow steam to blow past them so that water condenses in the return pipes, wasting heat. Check the valves periodically; repair or replace them when necessary.

In water systems, air bubbles often block the flow of hot water, and the radiator must be bled. Malfunctioning water pumps also cause waste.

In air systems, heating efficiency is considerably lowered by dust-clogged air filters, improperly adjusted dampers, and malfunctioning fans. Professional checks and repairs for these systems can be expensive, but the three churches individually saved up to $3300 in the winter of 1977.

Although it is not practical to reduce the size of your church building, it is possible to reduce the amount of space being heated at one time, and this saves money. You can keep unused rooms at lower temperatures by manually turning down thermostats, but this may mean you’ll have cold rooms plus an hour of shivering each morning. A better way is to install a seven-day, automatic time clock and connect it to the thermostats. The clock can be set to turn on the thermostat an hour before a room will be needed, and this avoids wasting heat.

A great contribution to energy conservation would be the scheduling of meetings in the same heating zone of your building. By using rooms in the same zone, the thermostats can be kept lowered in other zones.

Finally, proper insulation of ceilings, roofs, and walls can save a church astronomical figures over the years. The ability of insulation to keep heat from leaking out of a building is measured in “R” values; the higher the value, the better the insulation. The book comes on strong in its instruction of purchasing and installing insulation, and highly recommends that church volunteers contribute to the work. Other topics discussed include weather stripping, caulking, storm windows, shutters, and thermal curtains.

The book is printed in green ink-perhaps to remind us that evergreen trees impede the prevailing winds in winter.

121 Ways Toward a More Effective Church Library by Arthur K. Saul Victor Books, $3.50 Reviewed by Marilyn J. Baird former librarian of Ebenezer Baptist Church, Detroit, Mich.

If your church library is better known for the dustiness of its books than the value of its content, Arthur Saul’s 121 suggestions will be helpful. He makes two basic assumptions that should be the foundation for any church library service.

First, “A reading people is a growing people.” If you can’t agree with this first assumption, there is no point in even considering a library service.

Second, he believes the library “should serve and be supported by all the organizations and activities of the church.” A library collection is too expensive to build for the use of only a select group. Haphazard service and nominal support are the reasons dust gathers and chokes the vitality out of a library service.

What can a church do to set up an effective library? Saul recommends the same process used in all other church projects:

1. Establish support for the project, and consider goals, objectives, and policies that will guide the library as it grows.

2. Appoint and give direction to a library board or committee, which would establish library policies, set up a procedural manual for the library staff, take part in recruiting staff, plan for growth, administer the budget, and regularly report back to the church board.

3. Select a librarian from candidates of both sexes. Qualifications for this position should include supervisory abilities, speaking and writing abilities, training in librarianship, administrative experience, knowledge of doctrine and church practice, and some understanding of people of all ages and interests. If no one with library training can be found, the person selected must be willing to acquire training. “It takes dedicated, detailed work to make the library go,” warns Saul. “It will not be successful if operated by just anyone in any way.”

4. Saul suggests eight staff positions to support the librarian, although few churches will be able to build such a large staff initially. However, a single librarian will not be able to establish an effective library service in the same way a single Sunday school superintendent cannot handle the entire Sunday school alone. The library should never be open without a staff member present to give friendly assistance; thus this may require recruiting high school students or retirees as parttime members.

5. Space needs are often the biggest roadblocks to effective library operation. A sizable room, dedicated completely to library operation, will need to be equipped with shelving for books, storage for audiovisual materials, file cabinets for clipping file, display units for magazines, a desk for the library staff, and so forth.

6. A budget should be set each year which allows for the regular purchase of a certain amount of books, magazines, films, filmstrips, recordings, and many other items. When a policy statement is written for the library, it should outline the procedures for evaluating all material to be added to the collection, including gift materials.

7. Cataloging is the most technical library skill, and a trained cataloger is invaluable, if one is available, to carefully catalog and process.

8. The library staff will need to constantly promote their service. Saul believes “The library must be kept before the people so it becomes a part of their thinking when they consider the ministry of the church and their own lives.”

Any church setting up a library should consider several of the books Saul suggests in his work. The guidelines he has given toward development of a church library are excellent.

Copyright © 1981 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Pastors

Just an Associate Pastor

One man’s experience of the first few years after seminary–mortification and edification.

My name doesn’t appear on the church stationery, nor does it appear in the newspaper or telephone book advertisements. I’m not in the limelight. No one refers to the church I serve as “Brother Epps’ Church,” and few in the congregation look to me for spiritual guidance. I’m the “silent partner,” the “second in command.” I am simply an associate pastor to a more mature minister who pastors a growing and thriving local assembly. And I wouldn’t have it any other way!

Six years ago, armed with a college degree, I assumed the pastorate of a church consisting of 110 members, although there were only fourteen who attended regularly. Full of idealism and zeal, I mounted the pulpit with the certain knowledge that I was going to instruct these poor, neglected folk in the deeper mysteries of God. When I ran out of sermon material inside of six weeks, I began to sense that all was not going well.

I demonstrated my profound wisdom time and time again, as I attempted to minister to the needs of the people. I preached, for example, on the evils of hatred and prejudice-and ended up losing two families. How was I to know that my little church was in the heart of Ku Klux Klan territory?

I came down hard on astrology and superstition in another sermon. What I didn’t know was that many of my members were farmers and planted “by the signs;” they misunderstood my intentions. I blundered along, unintentionally offending people and stepping on toes that had been sore for many years.

I thought tact was something one used to evade the issue, and diplomacy was tantamount to compromise of standards and a sell-out to all that was meaningful. Somehow the congregation had more patience with me than I had with them, and over a period of time we adjusted to each other fairly well, with attendance reaching into the seventies.

The next year, when I was twenty-four, I took the pastorate of a congregation of nearly 600 individuals. Although I had learned to cope with certain situations in the previous local body, I found myself unprepared for the turmoil that was to be mine in the next eighteen months.

In my new parish, I found a resistance to the moving of the Spirit (as I interpreted it, of course) that I did not expect. I came, for the first time, face to face with divorce, adultery, drugs, death, pain, and suicide. I was accused of being unloving, uncaring, and a know-it-all (who, me?). Then at the board meeting, not only was my salary not raised, it was cut! And though offerings and attendance were above the previous years, I finally resigned in anger and frustration, vowing never again to take a pulpit.

What good had all my training done? What purpose had it all served? I began to develop a resentment toward the church that had rejected my message. I felt deserted by my ministerial brethren who seemed to be nowhere around during these times of difficulty. I even began to question whether or not God had ever spoken to me or called me into ministry.

After a period of reflection and wandering, I determined to place myself in a local church and strive simply to serve as a faithful member of that body. I had not, after all, ever filled that particular role. I wasn’t a participant in church activities until my mid-teens, and at once I was elected one of the officers. After high school I entered the Marine Corps, and college followed. During those years I served as a youth counselor or a minister of youth, so I never had the opportunity to become a “simple church member,” whatever that is. So, for the first time, I began to see the church from the perspective of the layman, and to realize that the congregation and the pastor do not always see eye to eye. How different it was to work forty-plus hours a week and be expected to participate in all the activities of the church (Doesn’t the pastor know I have to get up early tomorrow?).

About a year passed before the sectional presbyter called and requested that I conduct a limited number of services at a small, struggling, mission outreach. I resisted, but he prevailed, and off I went. Six people attended that first service-quite a drop from the 600 of a few years before. I was going to learn a lesson in humility and come to the understanding that God gives you only what he thinks you can handle.

Thus I found myself with d gift of six dedicated yet somewhat discouraged saints. Before the week was over, the group had grown to fourteen, and I was elected its pastor. During the thirteen months we remained together, I began to glean something of God’s intentions for the sheep and the loving, caring, patient role of the local shepherd, the pastor. The church grew, and the people learned to trust and love one another (most of the time) and to tolerate differences. We all came to realize we were “Christians under construction,” and that God certainly wasn’t finished with us yet. We learned the importance of loving people enough to let God bring about maturity, as opposed to legislated morality; and that same love also allowed people the opportunity to fail. After all, the Lord certainly loved the apostle Peter in the midst of his bungling.

Still, for me there was a dissatisfaction. I wanted to learn more about God, but I wanted what we called in the Marines, “OJT” or “On-the-job-training.” I not only wished to be taught (as I was in school), but trained in active service in the kingdom.

I shared this desire with a brother pastor whom I trusted, and within a short few weeks, I left my present pastorate to become a “number two man,” without salary, in a new and growing assembly under the direction of an experienced pastor.

By his example, I began to learn more of dealing with tragedy in the lives of the people of God. Never will I forget driving to the church late one night and finding the pastor at the altar, calling out to the Lord on behalf of one of the members of the congregation. I’ve spent sleepless nights with him in the hospitals and morgues, watched him weep when a family experienced the turmoil of divorce, and observed him give his last dollar to a family without money for fuel and food. I’ve learned to praise God in the midst of difficult circumstances, and to stand and “see the salvation of the Lord.”

I’ve been given opportunities for ministry to children, youth, singles, and families, as well as a campus ministry and a ministry to the lost. I’ve taught, preached, studied, and learned under the direction of this senior minister. My associateship has exposed me to new principles of finances, counseling, building, music, worship, and service. Because of these and other experiences, I feel a special kinship with Timothy, and have a better understanding of the responsibilities of Paul.

So, I’m no longer the “big cheese.” “Oh, you’re just the associate pastor,” some have said to me. Yes, and, praise God, through the direction of the Holy Spirit, and the guidance and direction of the man I assist, little by little, God is developing me into all he wants me to be.

Do I want to pastor, to have a church of my own? I simply wish to follow the Lord wherever his cloud may lead. Until God determines otherwise, I am perfectly content camping with his people in the place he has provided for my good and for his glory.

-David Epps, associate pastor Trinity Assembly of God Johnson City, Tennessee

Copyright © 1981 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Pastors

Organizing Volunteer Visitation

“Knowing your members are available for visitation is one thing,” says Ron Norman, “but organizing and arranging for their contact is another ball-game.”

Norman, pastor of Village Green Baptist Church in Glen Ellyn, Illinois, has developed a workable method for mobilizing laity for volunteer visitation.

He began by circulating small questionnaire cards in the church bulletin. The cards featured a short, motivational statement about the importance of visiting hospitalized individuals, church visitors, and inactive members. Two categories of information were sought: the type of visit, and a preferred visitation partner.

Under the first category he listed four choices: ¥ Sick and/or hospitalized :000 ¥ Church visitors

¥ Inactive members

¥ Special situations

The second category listed six choices:

¥ With spouse

¥ With another man

¥ With another woman

¥ With a youth

¥ With one of the pastors

¥ Alone

Members were then encouraged from the pulpit to indicate their interest in the visitation effort by checking any or all of the choices listed, signing the cards, and dropping them into the collection plate.

After the cards were collected, Norman transferred all the information onto a master sheet. Across the top, he arranged the two major categories and the ten subcategories vertically Down the left side he listed the names of the individuals who had signed up; and across from each name he put an X in the categories those volunteers had marked on the questionnaire cards.

Next, he had prospect cards printed. On the front were blanks for the names, ages, addresses, and phone numbers of visitation prospects. (For a hospital visit, the address would include the name of the hospital and the patient’s room number.) On the back were blanks for recording the date, type, and result of each visit. At this point, Norman sent a copy of the master l sheet and a form letter explaining how the visitation l process would work to all the visitation volunteers. 7 In effect, this is what was in the letter.

Let’s say that a couple, Mr. and Mrs. Jones, visit the church this Sunday. We want someone to make a friendship call on them as soon as possible. So, by Monday afternoon, I will have filled out a prospect card on the couple and sent it to someone who has indicated an interest in calling on church visitors. That person may either visit alone, or call a visitation partner from the master sheet of volunteers.

After the visit is made, the prospect card is to be completed and returned to me. I will keep a record of all visits made so no one makes too many or too few visits. This same process applies to visitation of hospital patients and inactive church members.

We will plan for the entire volunteer visitation staff to meet once a month after a Sunday evening service for fellowship and sharing.

Thanks, and God’s blessings,

A visitation model such as this one gives many g benefits:

¥ It provides an opportunity for sharing a church’s visitation load between pastor and laity.

¥ It encourages laity to take an active role in the planning and coordinating of visits.

¥ It eliminates the need of having to meet at the church every time visitation teams are needed.

¥ It facilitates communication among the visitation volunteers. A well-organized volunteer visitation program such as this becomes an important step toward developing a caring ministry in a congregation.

Copyright © 1981 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Pastors

Working With Volunteer Secretaries

It’s been extremely helpful to have a coordinator for the volunteer secretaries. We have ten secretaries, two for each day, and each works five hours a week. Not all of them type, and only one takes shorthand, so our coordinator has posted the schedule of who covers what days. This allows the staff, who know which secretaries can type, to plan ahead for what they want done.

On Mondays the two secretaries take care of the needs of the nursery school. It’s a big operation in terms of mimeographing, stencils, and telephone calls.

Tuesdays, the coordinator meets with me and we review what needs to be done that week. The next two secretaries do personal typing for me, handle the recording of the offering envelopes, and start to prepare the weekly church newsletter.

The volunteers on Wednesdays cut the stencils for the newsletters and prepare them for mailing.

There is only one volunteer who takes shorthand, so on Thursdays I usually have a lot of dictation for her.

Then on Fridays they put the Sunday bulletin together, and anything that the teachers need done for Sunday is completed.

Our coordinator works only five hours; besides overseeing the secretarial schedule, she also handles membership transfers, keeps the minutes of the session, and coordinates the use of the building. If one of the secretaries can’t be there, she has four or five people to use as substitutes, basically to answer the phone. The details of the administrative load are well taken care of by her.

-Eugene H. Peterson

Copyright © 1981 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Pastors

LEADERSHIP FORUM

Church growth is a worthy goal, but is it a measuring stick for success? Observations from five church leaders.

“I don’t even like to use the word success anymore,” commented a pastor friend at a recent meeting. “It means so many different things to people, you never know what they’re hearing when you say it.”

As we asked church leaders what they’d like to see in a LEADERSHIP issue on success, we heard the same thing over and over. Depending on who uses the word, success might mean a big salary, a private secretary, a huge organization, or faithfulness to an ideal.

But what is success for church leaders? What’s personal success? Does it mean a large, growing church? A large budget? An influential voice in the denomination? A television ministry?

And what’s a successful church? A church that’s growing in numbers? In the commitment of its members? In achieving established goals?

We asked John Huffman, pastor of St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church in Newport Beach, California, to assemble some church leaders from California and talk about the question. John met with Larry DeWitt, pastor of Calvary Community Church, Westlake Village; Vernard Eller, professor of religion, LaVerne College, LaVerne; Ben Patterson, pastor of Irvine Presbyterian Church, Irvine; and Peter Wagner, professor of church growth, Fuller Theological Seminary. Author Harold Fickett edited the taped proceedings.

John Huffman: What do we mean by church growth? Peter, you’re the expert; you and Fuller Seminary have turned “church growth” into a technical term. What is it?

Peter Wagner: Some people think the church growth movement deals only with churches growing larger, particularly people who try to rationalize away the problems that keep their churches from adding new members. But that’s not what is meant.

Church growth has four dimensions. In commending the church at Jerusalem, chapter two of Acts says that church growth is to grow up in our personal and corporate spiritual life; the church at Jerusalem matured in its understanding of apostolic teaching by gathering together for the breaking of the bread, prayer, and fellowship. Second, they grew together. In fact, the Jerusalem church lived together in a community; they weren’t “lone-ranger” Christians. Third, they grew out. They did not exist for themselves; they reached out into the community and performed works of charity, which in turn, created a favorable impression of the church in its neighbors’ minds. And fourth, they grew in numbers. As a result of the way those people lived, the Lord added daily to the church such as should be saved. A church that is pleasing to God grows in these four ways.

Vernard Eller: I’m glad to hear your definition of church growth, Peter; it’s balanced. But not everyone in the church growth movement has such a view. I attended a church growth seminar where the first three aspects you mentioned were totally neglected. What I heard was simply sociological advice on how to grow a big institution.

Peter: Well, you know I offer some seminars where I do nothing but give sociological advice, because that’s the seminar’s focus. But it’s not the whole story.

John: Although I’m sure you don’t mean to suggest this, Peter, you do sound as if anyone who criticizes the church growth movement must be trying to rationalize his own “failure.” I grant there might be problems in churches that don’t grow in numbers, but there also might be many things wrong with churches that are growing like wildfire.

Peter: That’s a valid statement. In the early years of the church growth movement we made such statements as, “Any church can grow.” We now know that statement to be invalid. But, I do think our methods-the state of the art-now address themselves to the complexity of the situation.

Ben Patterson: Would you say that if a church is growing in the first three ways it is reasonable to assume that growth in numbers will follow?

Peter: You can only answer that question if you examine individual cases against four factors. The first one we call national contextual factors: in a given nation, how much religious freedom is there? What is the religious context for the entire population? Second, there are national institutional factors: the kind of decisions made by the courts and by denominations. Then there are local institutional factors: the internal dynamics of the congregation itself. Finally, there are local contextual factors: the common attitudes of the people in a particular locale toward churches. In any situation, each of these factors will weigh differently, and each can encourage or inhibit growth. You can only judge the success or failure of a church to grow when these factors have been taken into account.

Vernard: But still, many people believe that if a church is growing numerically, it proves the people are experiencing the other forms of growth too.

John: Let me put that in question form. Can a church, Peter, be healthy and successful in a biblical sense and not experience numerical growth? Can a church simply maintain the status quo in membership and still be a healthy church?

Peter: No, I don’t think so. A church that is totally healthy will grow. The concept of health is the key here. People with bad colds or ingrown toenails are not totally healthy. They can still perform a range of activities, but they can’t do everything as they could without these problems. In the same way, a church that is not healthy may be performing many of a church’s functions very well, but the debility will show up in one way or another. Often, it shows up in a lack of numerical growth.

Vernard: A church that doesn’t grow may be simply sociologically unhealthy. It’s when church growth enthusiasts start drawing theological implications from sociological criteria that I get my back up. I lived in a congregation that did not grow, and I knew why. We were in competition with a big church a few blocks away, and we couldn’t put on its kind of razzle-dazzle program. But I maintain that in the Lord’s eyes, we were healthier than that church. I grant you that from a sociological perspective an institution needs to grow to be healthy. I’m not sure that is true from God’s perspective.

John: Let me cite an example to focus our thinking. I served as pastor of the First Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh. For the last seventy-five years it has run about twelve hundred people on Sunday mornings. Seventy-five years with the same average attendance-that’s a long time. And there were good reasons why this was so: it is in the center of an industrial complex, very few people live within a radius of two miles, and there are two hundred United Presbyterian churches within an eleven-mile radius that compete for suburban membership. It is a very fluid situation where people come and go; it’s a church with a high turnover rate but practically no growth or decline. Is it a terminally sick church?

Peter: We would say that church is growing. For certain churches in areas of high mobility, to maintain the same membership is to grow: churches such as the one you described, others near military bases or college campuses. These churches can be very healthy, and grow, and still not show an increase in the total number of members.

John: So you’re saying what we might call “flow” is the same as growth?

Peter: Yes, for people are added to the church in three ways: through biology, transfer, or conversion. All three kinds of growth are good, but the one that makes the most difference to the kingdom of God is conversion growth. The question I would ask about the Pittsburgh church is this: Over the years, has God blessed it with conversions? And I would quantify the growth of the church on that basis rather than on the total numbers.

John: In my example there were all three types of growth. But let’s push this a bit further. How about a church in a less tenable inner-city situation than mine was in Pittsburgh. How about a church whose membership declined from 2,000 in 1960 to 800 members in 1970, and then to 400 in 1980 due to rapid demographic changes in the surrounding community. But within that twenty-year context, and despite the decline in total membership, the church has experienced all three types of growth. Would you call that a successful church?

Peter: Borderline!

Vernard: But, Peter, you’ve come full circle. You indeed are saying that if there’s no pay-off in numerical growth, then the other types of growth must not be present.

Peter: No, I’m not. I’m saying that dimensions one, two, and three can be in full operation and have no effect on number four; I’m saying the exact opposite of what you think. The four dimensions cannot be related by an equation; it’s difficult to establish precisely how they are linked. What I am saying is that if all four types of growth are not present-if God is not blessing in all four areas- there’s something wrong with the church, and something must be done.

Vernard: Okay, but I still see numerical growth as part of a sociological process, not a biblical mandate. I wrote a commentary on the Book of Revelation, and I’ll take my stand on what I found there. In the letters to the seven churches of Asia Minor, Christ looks at these congregations and assesses them. He doesn’t give them a letter grade, but it’s easy to translate what he said into school marks. Out of the seven, two get an unqualified A, two receive an unqualified F. and the three others are somewhere in between. The amazing thing is that the two small, struggling congregations get an A and the two flourishing ones get an F. Now I don’t want to invent an obverse equation in which small, struggling churches are inevitably A churches and the big, flourishing ones are in the F category. But I think it does say that to judge the basic health of a congregation simply by its numerical growth isn’t biblical.

Ben: I think, to give Peter his due, he can fit that passage into his system. The A churches in Smyrna and Philadelphia were certainly subject to the “national contextual factor” of persecution by the state. Also, one must think about time in this regard: because martyrs were willing to die for their faith at crucial historic moments, the church endured, prospered, and yes, grew. There are similar situations today, such as in Uganda and Red China, where the church is under severe pressures, yet we may expect the faith to spread in these countries because of the heroism of Christians there now.

Larry Dewitt: As I’ve been sitting here listening, two words come to my mind that I think are significant: “faithfulness,” which we have been talking about, but also “fruitfulness.” The Scriptures often speak of faithfulness through the image of fruit. In Matthew 7 it says, “Every good tree produces good fruit.” And the vine passage in John says, “My Father is glorified through your bearing much fruit.” Now these are emphatic statements, ones in which fruitfulness is almost synonymous with faithfulness. I don’t want to say only, “I’m faithful whatever happens,” but to say, “I know I’ve been faithful when I see good fruit produced, the fruit of the Spirit.” And that might mean the fruit of maturity, which Vernard seems to be insisting comes first, and it might also mean the fruit of numerical growth, which Peter stresses.

John: If we’re going to understand what church growth means and how to define “success” in relation to church growth, we have to agree about what the church is. Although we should have a fair amount of common ground, I know from your individual ministries that we might have some radical differences in our understanding of what a church is. Let’s get this matter out on the table.

We can start with a highly visible church, Robert Schuller’s Garden Grove Community Church, as the focus of the discussion. Schuller says his Sunday morning service is not a church, it’s a “ministry.” It’s a ministry to the unchurched of Orange County and the nation, who are turned off by traditional approaches. So he’s not going to talk about sin, he’s not going to do expository preaching, he’s not going to use theological language. He’s going to provide a time of inspiration by talking about possibility thinking.

He justifies this by making a clear distinction between the Sunday morning television ministry and the church proper. Schuller says that true churches have several characteristics: they evangelize, they teach, they provide community. All of these things happen at Garden Grove, but they don’t happen on Sunday mornings when the TV cameras are on. They happen on Sunday nights when Bob preaches on Romans, and they happen in adult education programs and small groups.

Now, how should we perceive what the church is and what these types of ministries are when many people only see church growth and success in Schuller’s type of ministry?

Ben: The Roman Catholic Mass is not the church, it is something the church does. Vacation Bible school is not the church, it is something the church does. Inspirational talks on possibility thinking are not the Garden Grove Community Church, but Schuller’s TV messages are one of the things that church does. It’s a total cop-out to talk about a ministry in this way, as if you thereby created a special province governed by a dispensation to the effect that anything goes.

John: I knew you four disagreed here, because in one of your books, Peter, you used the Garden Grove Community Church as one ideal model of church growth.

Peter: I think to put all of this in perspective I need to give a brief description of the theory behind distinguishing “ministries” from “churches.” We handle these questions by speaking of a “philosophy of ministry.” I see room in the kingdom of God for many different philosophies of ministry. Schuller’s is one. Schuller’s philosophy is to have a ministry strictly geared to reach the unchurched. That’s why his Crystal Cathedral is useful. His church is in Orange County, and the unchurched people there are used to Disneyland, Knotts Berry Farm, and Anaheim Stadium. Having a Crystal Cathedral with a pool down the center aisle with fountains that trigger on cue allows him to reach that audience in a way he couldn’t do otherwise. Then, after getting the people there, he leads them to Christ through other aspects of the church and builds them up in the faith.

I think we have to allow room for a diversity of ministries in the kingdom, ministries that might be even more unusual than Schuller’s.

John: But let’s return to the basic question. Can we agree on this as a working definition of the church? The church is a visible, tangible group of people who have committed themselves to God through Jesus Christ, and to each other in fellowship and mutual care. Isn’t this what the church is? It’s people. It’s not a worship service. It’s not a Bible-teaching service. It’s not a building. It’s people, committed to Christ and each other.

Larry: That’s good. I like that. And then I think each church needs to ask itself how various scriptural mandates apply specifically to it. We have the Great Commission, and we have to ask how this mandate works itself out in our situation. Our first concrete task is to clarify in our own minds what we think is the biblical purpose of our church.

We did this in our own church. We sat down and went through several passages in the Bible where Christ was talking about what he wanted to accomplish. We looked in Acts and the Epistles, where the subject was the “church.” And with three little Bible-study groups we said, “What does this passage tell us about Christ in relationship to the church? What does it tell us about our relationship to each other? What does it tell us about our relationship to the world? Then we wrote a statement of purpose for our church. We said that we are on this earth and in this church to celebrate God’s life, to cultivate personal growth, to care about each other in Christ, and to see that this is communicated to the world. We’ve enlarged on it, but in essence, that’s the mandate for our church.

Ben: I think Peter and Larry have given us good, workable definitions of the church, but I think the real problem is translating those ideas into a specific cultural setting. Culture is for us as water is to a fish: our milieu. And we Christians have done a very poor job separating the gospel from the civil religion of American culture. Many times we’ve ended up simply being a mouthpiece or a source of propaganda for the materialistic values of American society rather than the true gospel: “Be committed to Jesus Christ and you can be just as committed to your own economic expansions and to your mainstream American politics as you were before, except you’ll actually be better at getting rich, and your neighbors will think you’re a super-patriot.” The church should play a prophetic role when it becomes aware of the cultural situation, and that understanding leads to a Christian critique of the culture, whether it’s in sections of America or Africa or Asia.

Vernard: I agree absolutely. The church must be a prophetic voice.

John: Peter, in one of your books on church growth, you make a distinction between a church’s responsibility to take positions on the issues of the day and its obligation to conduct specific social action programs. You said one of the reasons for the decline of so many churches is that they became involved in political issues, and they did so in a way that precluded growth, and they were wrong for having done so. How can the church be a prophetic voice and still grow?

Peter: The church is responsible to show through its corporate life the signs of the kingdom of God. Two of these signs are redemptive cultural and evangelistic activity. Both are biblical; in fact, both go all the way back to the garden of Eden.

Vernard: What do you mean by redemptive cultural activity?

Peter: I mean moving into the world to meet people’s physical, social, and material needs; to free people from oppression; to be concerned for the poor and the hungry; to be concerned about exploitation and all the social problems that have to do with the world.

Vernard: You used the term “kingdom of God.” I think it’s essential to include an eschatological understanding of it, to perhaps use the term in a more literal way than you did. Whenever we define the church simply by what we are to do in the here and now, we have really shortened the true calling of the church. The church needs to remember always that this world is not our home, and that we are pointed towards, and citizens of, another kingdom.

Ben: Maybe we need an evangelistic-cultural-eschatological mandate, for we can have our evangelistic mandates very much intact, and we can even have a cultural mandate intact as set forth in Genesis; but if we’re not aware that this world is still guided by the principalities and powers of darkness, then we’re going to reduce the gospel to the fatuous message that “things go better with Jesus.”

John: Vernon Grounds wrote an article [see page 54] a couple of years ago in which he claimed that evangelicalism “is bowing before the bitch goddess of success. We are sinfully concerned about size, salaries, sanctuaries, and Sunday schools. We are sinfully preoccupied with statistics about budgets and buildings and buses and baptisms.” Has evangelical Christianity adopted a secular view of success that is unbiblical?

Peter: I hear a lot of talk about success along the lines of Grounds’ remarks. He uses “success” in a way that is foreign to my definition. In terms of churches, success is simply the accomplishment of goals. The pastor should ask himself, “How many people are tithing? Twenty percent? Well, let’s try to bring it up to forty percent in the next year.” If he does, God has given him success in leading his congregation into a biblical discipline. This is not “bigger is better.” It’s simply using the technique of quantification in carrying out a biblical calling for Christ’s church.

John: Is that a shift in your thinking, Peter? Bigger is not better?

Peter: No, emphatically no. Bigger is not better!

Ben: Shout that from the rooftops! Peter Wagner says bigger is not better!

Peter: Well, I’m glad to say that here. People get the notion that church growth advocates say bigger is better because most of our illustrations come from big churches. But we use big churches because they have experienced growth-they are cases in point. We’re like the biologist who studies enzymes involved with plant growth: he takes his samples at the points of a plant’s growth, and then studies how that growth is taking place.

In our classes at Fuller, we have X number of churches we do field research on. Every year I get people who say, “Hey, we need smaller churches;” so I pick smaller churches. But the churches I pick don’t stay small.

John: Peter, in the ’50s, mainline liberal churches experienced tremendous growth. Many of those same churches are now on the decline. How do you relate their numerical success to the current growth in evangelical churches?

Peter: I can’t answer you directly because as yet we haven’t developed the instruments to measure the quality of growth; but we’re working on it. It’s very important that we do, because growth can be cancerous as well as healthy-for instance, the People’s Temple of Jim Jones. That was demonic growth.

Vernard: You’re right that success should mean accomplishing biblically-based goals. But that’s not how it’s commonly used. Grounds is right in saying that success is heard in terms of salary, sanctuary, Sunday school attendance, and memberships. When the church growth movement talks about success, what comes across is “bigger is better.” I’m glad to hear you say it isn’t what you mean. But in the church growth film I saw, Hollywood Presbyterian Church and Garden Grove Community Church were lifted up as ideal models. That’s not much help to people in small, struggling congregations.

Peter: You’re right. The way you defined success is the way most people think of success. I wish we could change the thinking on that.

Larry: But hold on. One item on Vernon Grounds’ list doesn’t belong. We can define success, at least partially, in terms of baptisms: how many people are making commitments to Christ and declaring their faith through baptism? And anyway, I don’t think the church growth movement has ever defined success in terms of budgets, buses, and buildings.

Vernard: Yes, they have, Larry. One of the principles is that if you are going to grow, you have to have an attractive building with plenty of parking space.

Larry: There’s nothing wrong with that.

Vernard: No, but people hear that and think that’s success.

Peter: But, Vernard, we’re saying that if your goal is to lead people to Jesus Christ, then you have to have a place to put them. You have to have a place for them to park their cars. Now if your goal is to build people in the faith and to get them studying the Bible, you don’t need that so much.

Vernard: Let me give you another example of how success is actually used. Someone quoted Schuller as saying that his whole purpose is to reach the success-oriented people of southern California, and he does that by projecting an image of success. What does he mean by success? He means Crystal Cathedrals. He means budgets and buildings.

Larry: What is Schuller’s goal?

Vernard: We’ve said that once he gets people in, then, yes, they do get a real biblical message. But it’s false advertising.

Peter: What you’re questioning is not Schuller’s goal of wirining people to Jesus Christ and building them in the faith, but the means he has chosen. You feel he sells out too much to culture.

Vernard: Exactly.

Ben: You can’t make a distinction between goals and means; the ends don’t justify the means; in fact, the means very often vitiate the end. Can you say that whatever it takes to get people to hear the gospel is justified?

Peter: That’s a legitimate question, but it’s not a simple one, and it’s one that Christians might answer in a variety of ways. For instance, should we give kids bubble gum when they get on the Sunday school bus? If not, how is that different from taking your friend out to dinner in order to talk to him about the gospel?

Vernard: We need to hear Marshall McLuhan when he says that the medium is the message.

John: I’m glad you brought that up. As someone who worked for years in the media and prayed for the day that evangelicals would get access to the media of mass communication, I am convinced we must make McLuhanesque distinctions between what radio offered Donald Grey Barnhouse and Charles Fuller and what television offers ministers today. Radio is a hot medium that demands involvement. The old knights of the airwaves could communicate the gospel in a pretty pure form, one that really helped people come to personal faith in Jesus Christ. But television, a cool medium, controls its evangelical stars rather than the other way around. It turns them into stars in the first place by teaching them what they can and can’t say in order to remain on top.

Let me give you a personal illustration. I did a television interview show in Pittsburgh, and I had certain guests on my show because I knew they would boost the ratings. I rationalized this by thinking that with more people watching I was a more effective spokesman for God. Larry listed four characteristics of the church, and I don’t think any one of them applies to what happens between a television viewer and his set.

Ben: So you’re saying that a large part of evangelical success in the last few years is fool’s gold; that we have to distinguish between spiritual growth and television ratings.

Peter: That’s why I say it would be so helpful for the church growth movement to develop quantitative instruments to measure spiritual quality. But I also want to stand up here as one of the defenders of someone like Schuller and other television pastors who back up their mass appeals with solid church organizations. Schuller’s church has 2,000 members enrolled in a lay ministers program. That’s a course of study of 250 class hours. I’ve rarely seen a small church of fifty or one hundred people that trains members to that extent, and then commissions them to work in the church community as lay ministers of evangelism, pastoral care, hospitality, and other specialties. For example, the lay ministers of pastoral care contact between ten and fifteen designated families each month. And think of the proportion-2,000 out of 10,000 members trained in this way; 20 percent of the congregation-that’s not too bad.

Ben: How many times do we have to say this? We say the ends don’t justify the means, and then when we find out suspect means can be overwhelmingly “successful,” we start to cozy up to them. We can talk ourselves blue in the face about how corrupt liberal theology and its relativistic ways are, but when we confront relativism in our own back yard, particularly if there’s a sensational party going on back there, we join right in.

John: Here’s another quote to think about in this context. A. W. Tozer has said, “God may allow his servant to succeed when he has disciplined him to a point where he does not need to succeed to be happy. The man who is elated by success and cast down by failure is still a carnal person.”

Peter: May I respond to that one? I think Tozer is wrong. Saying you can be faithful without being successful is a serious misunderstanding of the biblical teaching of stewardship. Many of the faithfulness and success passages in the Scriptures are given by Jesus in the context of stewardship. The parable of the talents is a prime example. The servants who were faithful in this parable increased the master’s wealth; they made money, and the more the better. The servant who buried his talent was chastised. It’s our responsibility as good stewards of God’s gifts to add to the wealth of the kingdom of God, to multiply the number of people in that kingdom.

Vernard: Okay, Peter, but see what you’ve done. You’ve used your definition of success as accomplishing biblically-based goals.

Peter: That’s right.

Vernard: And I still say when you talk about success to the people of the world, they don’t hear you in terms of biblically-based goals. They don’t understand that Jesus never promised institutional success would necessarily follow faithfulness. You can’t make a parable into a magical formula with the reliability of E=mc2. We must make a distinction between the success of carrying out biblical mandates and institutional success.

Peter: I agree.

Vernard: Jesus says, “If you’re a faithful disciple of mine you’re going to meet persecution, rejection; you’re going to be pulled before synagogues and magistrates.”

You see, in one sense, in a deep sense, Jesus going to the cross was success. In the eyes of the world, though, crucifixion is exactly the opposite of what it would consider success.

John: I want to raise another issue. In Francis Schaeffer’s book, No Little People, he says, “Someone God has been using marvelously in a certain place takes it upon himself to move to a larger place, and loses his quietness before God. Ten years later he may have a huge organization, but the power is gone.” How can a pastor know whether an apparently “successful” move to a larger church is really what God wants?

Ben: Too often the clergy see professional growth as a cardinal virtue, an almost absolute goal. We tend to define professional growth in terms of Horatio Alger stories: the people who come out of seminary start with a small church and rapidly move on to bigger and bigger churches. Many feel their preaching gifts or pastoral gifts are wasted on the small church. Professionalism can be a deadly thing.

I know the pressures from personal experience. Even my family is prouder of me now that I have my own church than when I was an assistant. “Ben has done well,” they think. “He’s not an assistant in somebody else’s operation, he has his own franchise.” It’s as if they were talking about fast-food restaurants.

John: I remember when I was serving a little church in Key Biscayne, Florida. We had 280 members and I was the pastor there for six years. A veteran evangelical pastor came and visited in our church community and said, “John, don’t ever leave this church. I’ve seen too many men who have had fruitful ministries in small churches like this and then, after climbing up the ladder, they have never had the same sense of fulfillment in their larger pastorates.”

This has haunted me, because I did go from there to a church with 2,300 members, and now a church with 3,000 members, where the pressures of administrative detail rob me of some of the fulfillment that came from the intimate relationships I had with so many people in that small church.

Larry: There’s definitely a different dynamic in a large church.

John: A therapist friend of mine said something to me that troubled me even more deeply. He said that the seeds of self-destruction are within the psychological make-up of the entrepeneurial-type pastor who makes things happen and grow. He also said growth oriented pastors should reflect at the deepest level about their motivations. They need to know when they’re working for the kingdom and when they’re simply building up their own egos.

My friend cited prominent evangelical organizations founded by magnificent entrepeneurial types who, in the process of building their organizations, destroyed their own integrity and the lives of their families. Eventually, their organizations had to remove them and find a new generation of leadership that was better at administration.

Vernard: In response to that, I think we ought to bend over backwards to affirm pastors of small churches, and let them know their church and their ministry is just as valid in the eyes of God as the superstars with their colossal pastorates.

Ben: I’ve had a very personal struggle with all this. I’m now in a situation that, from a purely sociological standpoint, is going to grow. In most white, middle-class communities, about two percent of the population is Presbyterian. In our community, Irvine, it’s projected that in the next ten years there will be simply phenomenal growth. So, if we just do an average job of pastoring, Presbyterians are going to start showing up and the church is going to grow-it’s growing already.

I’ve struggled with success and church growth; I really think, on the one hand, we ought to grow numerically. There’s a lot of folks out there and not many churches, so we must reach out to the community. But half the time I don’t know what to do with the growth. I feel ill-equipped to handle it organizationally.

We had a tight group of folks at the beginning who really loved one another in Christ; because of that, the church is now four times larger than it was when we first opened up. You see, the very thing that created growth-the warm fellowship-is now threatened by what it’s produced. We can’t be that close any longer; there are simply too many of us.

Larry: I identify with that. I have a junior high son who grew eight inches last year and went through a lot of pain because of what he experienced physically. When we have growth pains, I think it’s all the more important to review goals; what you want to see happening in the lives of these people, and how you think that should come about. In doing this, we’ve developed an outline of ten steps we call people-process, and it details what we hope will happen to each person who walks through our door, from the initial encounter to the point where they’re reproducing believers.

But in the last year I’ve been scared by the amount of growth we’ve had in the worship services. I feel, as you do, Ben, that the important thing is not the rate of numerical growth; the important thing is growth that can be integrated into the total life of the church through support networks. If we don’t provide good soil for growth, we won’t have healthy harvest.

Copyright © 1981 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Pastors

Something I Learned From Maxey Jarman

He built a billion-dolar corporation, but neither success nor failure were crucial to his interior life. He treated those two impostors just the same.

In our very first issue of LEADERSHIP, we ran an extensive interview with Fred Smith. It evoked the strongest response of anything we’ve published to date. We’ve had many requests since then to get Fred into these pages again.

It seems only natural for his first article this year to be about Maxey Jarman, who passed away last fall at age seventy-six. He influenced Fred a great deal. Here was a man who took a company from 75 employees to 75,000, making Genesco in the late ’60s the world’s largest apparel company. Yet when reverses came, Maxey maintained a tremendous spiritual resiliency and kept contributing energetically, without bitterness, to many Christian causes. He was a man who rose to the very top in business, yet was uncompromising in his spiritual commitments.

From his close relationship with him over forty-three years, Fred gives us insights into Maxey Jarman’s character and practices.

I first met Maxey Jarman back in the mid-thirties when I was about twenty. I had been teaching a Sunday school class in a nurses’ training program at Nashville General Hospital. One of the nurses became an industrial nurse, and she introduced me to her boss, the director of personnel. I said to myself, “I’d like a job like that.” I had no training or experience, but I knew General Shoe (later Genesco) was one company in town where there might be such a position. So, I decided to meet Maxey Jarman, the president.

Maxey always bought gas at the station next to the plant. I waited until he drove up in his red Chrysler, then walked over and introduced myself. We just shook hands; he probably thought it was very strange, for in his early thirties he wasn’t very gregarious.

Mary Alice and I had just married and rented out one of our two bedrooms to a factory worker at General Shoe. She told me of some labor problems at work, and I called Mr. Jarman and offered my viewpoint. He invited me to his office. We had a very short conversation, and I heard no more about it. But he impressed me so much that when I heard he taught a Sunday school class, I started attending. They had me lead singing and eventually elected me president of the class.

One Wednesday night after church in 1941, Maxey invited me to have a Coke at the Rexall Drug Store. We sat on fountain stools, and he asked me what I planned to do in life. “I’d like to be a personnel man,” I told him. He asked if I’d ever had any experience, and I said, “No, I’ve never even seen a personnel department. But I met a guy who’s a personnel man, and I’d like that kind of work.”

That night I told Mary Alice I thought he would offer me a job, and no matter what he offered, I was going to take it because he was a man I wanted to be associated with. I sensed then I wanted to be with him for life. There was something significantly different about this man. Being a preacher’s kid in the poor end of town, I’d become somewhat cynical about Christians. But Maxey personified reality. This was so valuable to me at that time . . . Here was a real man, a genuine person; and our years of friendship intensified that evaluation. When he offered me an opening in personnel, I was elated.

I had never seen a man so serious about wanting to reach the truth. For forty-three years I wrote my observations of Maxey on scraps of paper, everything from church bulletins to napkins, and last year I compiled them-500 pages of separate paragraphs. Then I spent three weeks at the lake doing little but reading them and thinking. When I told him about this, he said, “I’m amazed. What a waste of time!”

I’ve learned much from Maxey, but for this article I’ll distill just a little. I started to say, “Some of these principles, perhaps, you will want to emulate.” But Maxey would have been embarrassed to be held up as an example.

Maxey had an awesome sense of responsibility. He was not only involved, he was enveloped in what he did. He treated every responsibility as a “call,” but never named it that. The Sunday night Maxey was taken to the hospital barely able to breathe, he kept delaying because he was to speak at the evening service and “The pastor is counting on me.” One of his favorite stories was of Jeb Stuart, who signed his letters to General Robert E. Lee, “Yours to count on.” Occasionally, I would close my letters to him “YTCO.” You could count on Maxey.

Maxey was cause oriented. He sublimated his ego and personal interests to whatever he as

trying to accomplish. Most people simply cannot do that. Whatever he undertook, he did it “with all his might,” from building the business to heading the committee for the revision of the King James Bible.

For instance, Maxey owned Tiffany Jewelry as a part of buying Bonwit Teller. When we’d go to restaurants in New York, people would look up and say, “There’s Maxey Jarman who owns Tiffany.” He enjoyed this connection with Tiffany, but then he sold it. I asked him why. “Because it doesn’t fit our apparel company.” Now, to sacrifice the ego satisfaction of being known as the man who owns Tiffany just to be more efficient for a larger responsibility requires dedication. Incidentally, the Tiffany illustration also shows how committed he was to Principle versus Money. A well-known promotional company would have paid more for Tiffany, but Maxey was afraid they would prostitute the name. He wanted to ensure the quality of Tiffany, so he sold it to Walter Hoving.

Maxey thought little about himself. His mind was occupied with opportunities and how he was going to get the job done. He thought of himself as little as anyone I’ve ever met. Most think of their private interests first, even when working for God. He didn’t.

Maxey went through some painful problems; but because he wasn’t self-centered, he didn’t worry too much about being humiliated. For most of us, the events he went through would have been unbearable. But as people have different thresholds of pain, Maxey had a different threshold of problem bearing. Most humiliation is a reverse for our egos. Since Maxey didn’t have the ego “high,” he didn’t experience the depths of the ego “low.” He repeatedly quoted to me, “Be grateful for all things.” I would say, “In all things.” And he would repeat, “For all things.” And on his prayer list of thanksgiving he had “when I’m being lied about.”

Maxey was future oriented. He seldom wanted to reminisce. He would have been the poorest person in the world to attend a class reunion. Maxey was always looking to the future. Even in our last visit, while under the oxygen support system, going in and out of a light coma, he didn’t reminisce; he wanted to talk about the black holes of space on

which he was writing a paper, and a list of current world problems.

He quickly lost interest in the past and concentrated on the future. When he lost his race for Republican nominee for governor, Mary Alice and I met Maxey and Sarah Mac at the Nashville airport. As we walked toward them, both of us started smiling. “That was this morning,” I said. “What about this afternoon?” He replied, “That’s exactly right!” Maxey felt you could learn from the past, but it should never be allowed to impede the future. Spinning yarns of the past violated his sense of the use of time.

One of my prayers is: “Lord, give me a fresh today. I’m tired of dragging this yesterday around.” Maxey, for some reason, was not cursed with this albatross.

Maxey believed in progress, not perfection. He criticized himself privately a great deal not because he failed to reach perfection, but because he wanted more progress. He realized that the difference between satisfactory progress and whimsical perfection simply costs too much. There’s a cover story in a recent issue of Psychology Today that shows the fallacies of perfectionism, and how often some people sacrifice broad progress for narrow perfection. Maxey understood that.

Maxey differentiated between gossip and grapevine. He knew it was important to be on the grapevine and know what was going on. He wanted to be close to his people where it related to business. But he wasn’t interested in gossip. I don’t think I ever heard him whisper in his life. He made no effort to keep his voice low because he didn’t maneuver you with confidences. If you said to Maxey, “I don’t want you to breathe this,” he would usually say, “Then don’t tell it to me. It loads up my memory to remember what I’m not supposed to say.”

Time was Maxey’s greatest “means.” Since time was his greatest limitation, it was to be invested judiciously. He invested it in the cause that brought the highest return according to his priority list of responsibilities. He needed to feel at the end of the day he had fulfilled his greatest responsibility. In the office he was never chatty. His associates respected his time, yet he didn’t rush about in a panic. His pace was fast and steady. He organized to save time, and was particularly short with telephone conversations-never rude, just businesslike. When he talked to you, he gave you his utmost attention, but you had the feeling that the subject should merit the time. I always wrote down what I wanted to talk to him about before I phoned. He never chided me into this; it was just that I felt in his attitude it was the only courteous thing to do. Possibly he gave others this same feeling, for he was able to live without an unlisted phone number during all of his career. He always kept to the subject.

Maxey looked first at opportunities. No opportunity, no responsibility. You hear people bemoan the fact they can’t meet a certain need. If you have no genuine opportunity, you have no responsibility. A man in jail can’t become a foreign missionary. As Spurgeon said, “If you can’t speak, God didn’t call you to preach.” Maxey had a great practical sense of what was possible.

Effort alone didn’t count. He had limited regard for effort because he felt many people substitute effort for accomplishment. Some individuals feel that as soon as they’re tired, they’ve done a good day’s work. He respected results with the least possible effort. I never tried to impress Maxey with activity. I never told him how tired I was or how much I traveled. I accepted the rule, “Result is the best excuse for activity.”

Someone called Maxey one day to criticize a sales manager: “Do you know John is out playing golf during business hours?” Maxey’s response was, “With the results he’s getting, I wish all my sales managers would do that.”

Maxey believed in people’s potential. He realized most could do more than they thought; therefore he was always exploring ways to develop them. He studied motivation and tried many formal and informal methods. He preferred for people to pull responsibility to them, provided they would accept accountability for it.

He didn’t see success for each person the same. In the mid-forties, one of our employees, Bill Fox, was killed in an automobile accident. I had just taken him off a machine and put him into the personnel department. As we drove back from the funeral, Maxey said, “I believe he was as successful a man as we have.” I was completely taken aback by that. “What do you mean, Maxey?” His response was, “He did as much with what he had as anybody I know.” He considered Bill Fox a successful man.

Maxey implemented responsibility with a strong, consistent discipline. As responsibility was the reason for his work, so discipline was the method. Once I told him I was a person of few habits, to which he replied, “Then you must waste a lot of time.” Habits were for saving time. He had habits for the routine things, and reviewed them periodically to see if they were still helping him be efficient. Those he didn’t need he replaced, no matter how hard. Smoking was the toughest habit he ever tackled, but he broke it. Those things that could not be routinized into habits he listed on a priority sheet. Then he would work to complete the first item before tackling the second, wherever practical. He didn’t jump around in his efforts. For example, he answered his mail as he read it-no shuffling through it two or three times. He went straight through his list for the day unless deterred by an emergency. He thought emergencies were the evidence of poor planning, therefore, he had very few.

His feeling of discipline was purely practical, not puritanical. He learned he could do more through strict discipline. He and Susannah Wesley would have been friends. Years ago, he shocked the Baptist brethren by admitting he worked on Sunday as a habit, not as an exception. He didn’t push any ox into the ditch to justify working. He felt he should work, not waste time sleeping or reading the comics in the newspaper.

He went to church twice on Sundays and to Wednesday night prayer meetings. He read four chapters every day and five on Sunday to get him through the Bible once a year (over sixty times). He more than tithed, and he prayed daily. He taught two Bible classes, held most of the lay positions in his church, and served many other Christian organizations including Christianity Today. As part of his discipline, he slept five and half hours a night.

Competition was part of his discipline. He believed in it. Maxey never felt we could get the best from the organization until we had them under competition. He enjoyed setting up competition between departments and individuals. I thought of Maxey when I asked a world-class weightlifter how much more he could lift in competition than he could in practice.

He said, “About two hundred pounds.” Maxey loved to argue, for it was verbal competition. We often explained to strangers that we were friends, but argued continually as a challenge.

Maxey was courteous, but still honest. Even in competitive business deals, he believed in helping anyone “save face” where there was no moral issue involved. He felt personal confrontations were unproductive. Maxey didn’t want gunslingers in the organization-shooting either for him or against him.

Even in the Christian community, Maxey was never one to make pious remarks such as “Bless you, brother,” or volunteer to pray for you as a way of terminating the conversation. If he said, “I’ll pray for you,” that meant you went on a list. He had a

daily, weekly, and monthly prayer list. He also kept a personal list of qualities for spiritual maturity he was praying about and developing in his own life.

Maxey was a catholic reader. He read constantly, quickly, and widely, usually five or six books at a time. Occasionally I would sit with him and another broadly-educated person, exhilarated by the amazing conversation. The Bible and French history were his favorite subjects, and they led into a very broad cross-section of literature. He would read as many viewpoints as possible to help him form his opinion. He kept a large library, with much coming in and about the same amount going out. He had a rather low acquisitive drive. He discarded letters, records, files, and even books as they were used. He never felt alone as long as he had a book. The first book he ever suggested I read was Plutarch’s Lives. He felt reading developed the mind as well as filled it.

Maxey made lists. The man who invented the pen deserves much of the credit for Maxey’s contribution to life. Everything he wanted to do he wrote down. Each year he made a list of the things he was working into his personal development. To live was to improve, and to improve was to make a list for specificity. Once I was telling him some plans that he felt were fuzzy. He asked that I write him a memo on it. When I told him I couldn’t write it but I could tell it to him, he smiled as he said, “The only

reason you can’t write it is because you don’t know it. Anything you know you can write.” That started me writing, and I believe he was right. As Bacon said, “Writing makes an exact man.”

Actually, the person who seriously deserves the credit for Maxey’s contribution is Sarah Mac. She was the warm home base, contributing to all he did and was. To her, Maxey came first, yet she had her own identity-a vital part of the civic, social, and church community. Maxey and Sarah Mac were like excellent dancers with separate and complementary choreography.

Maxey accepted his own weaknesses. For instance, his intuition about people wasn’t exceptional. He accepted this, and didn’t waste time trying to develop skills he didn’t have. He would say, “Don’t try to strengthen people in their weaknesses; it’s less productive than utilizing their strengths.” The role of the organization was to free and synergize their strengths, and in some other way cover their weaknesses. He was good at recognizing talent and giving opportunity for its use; utilizing without “using” others.

Maxey would not force the individual to succumb to the organization. As much as possible, he made the organization fit the people. In a sense, he felt the organization should be as loyal to the person as the person should be to the organization. We seldom hear loyalty used in this respect. He even accommodated himself to the star performers who were at times temperamental, even though it brought criticism from other executives. As long as they had high performance, he didn’t worry about their challenging his authority. His responsibility was to get results, not to prove he was the boss.

Maxey never became cynical. He knew that to manage a large organization he had to trust his subordinates. The few who failed him or conned him didn’t change this conviction.

If you were to ask what satisfied Maxey most in all his accomplishments, I think it was the people he had helped develop by providing them opportunity. Once he told me, “It’s not the plants we have built, but the people we have helped develop that makes me the proudest.” A large part of his drive to expand the business was to provide opportunity for others. Geraldine Stutz, the owner of fabled Henri Bendel, told me at Maxey’s funeral that when she bought the store, she immediately called Maxey and told him, “There is a Geraldine Stutz because there was a Maxey Jarman.”

He had the normal temper ascribed to “redheads,” but he controlled it well. When he did lose control, he was humiliated-not for social reasons, but because he lost his power to be effective. This was one of the few things that would upset him. Self-control was a matter of will, commanded by Scripture, and therefore his responsibility. In his Bible he defined temperance as “self-control.” I felt he usually came nearer “righteous indignation” than hotheadedness. When I recall the times he was hot, it generally involved someone’s irresponsibility or lying. He hated a lie. He couldn’t understand anyone deliberately being dishonest.

Maxey was decisive. This was one of his greatest leadership traits. He resented anyone “second guessing” his decision. He had a very open mind before making a decision, but a very closed mind once that decision was made. I found he would quickly review a decision when he thought it involved a moral mistake. Once he had the books opened just to give an employee a $2.85 refund because “The question isn’t how much trouble, but do we owe it?” Decisiveness, he felt, is one of the rarest traits in leadership. After he retired, he said, “Many people can make a good decision, but very few will.” He wasn’t a nervous leader; he had poise and tenacity.

Maxey was a much better demonstrator than a teacher. He rarely lectured; he showed you. He didn’t do it to snow you or prove how capable he was. He simply did it, and you had to observe him to learn the lesson. In fact, you had to work with him to fully appreciate him. He was not colorful; he was effective. In following him, we felt we could do anything required without losing self-respect. When we worked with Maxey, we could really “plant our feet” without looking over our shoulders expecting unethical maneuvers. He was loyal to his organization, and I never remember him making someone a scapegoat. When I failed, he told me, but I knew he wouldn’t sacrifice me to save his or anyone else’s face. You just don’t meet many people you can follow with that level of security.

Money to Maxey was a means, not an end. It’s hard to think of Maxey without thinking of money because he handled so much of it. He was “afraid” of accumulating personal wealth. He talked about money’s deception and the evils it brought to those obsessed by it. He proved his conviction by giving millions to Christian causes.

There were three facets to his giving that stand out to me: First, he gave currently. He didn’t save up or wait for occasions. Second, he gave a very large percentage of his income. Tithing was much too little for him to give. Therefore, his personal fortune was always much less than it could have been. He gave it away. Third, Maxey believed in giving anonymously. He didn’t want any earthly shrines named for him. In South America, Mary Alice and I were traveling with the Jarmans, visiting mission stations and churches. We repeatedly saw plaques denoting that the church had been given by Maxey Jarman. He never pointed out one of these, and I know he would have preferred the plaques not be there. Another time, I was visiting a preacher when his mail arrived with a check for $27,000 in answer to a request to Maxey.

As close as we were, he never told me of a single gift he ever made, even though I know he offered as much as a million dollars to start a Bible school. He combined the wealth of the rich and the spirit of the widow’s mite without trumpets blowing or the left hand telling the right what a great giver they belonged to.

Even when Maxey was at his lowest personal fortune, he gave a check for $13,000 to help Youth For Christ with a project we were undertaking. It was the last of his mother’s estate, which he had completely given away, just as he had given his inheritance from his father’s estate to start the Jarman Foundation for Christian causes. During the darkest days of his temporary financial crunch, which he didn’t try to hide or exploit, I asked him if he had ever thought of the millions he had given away. His answer was pure Jarmanese. “Of course I have, but remember, I didn’t lose a penny I gave away. I only lost what I kept.”

Maxey would never exploit his corporate position. He wasn’t picky, and he didn’t try to catch others he knew were taking some advantage, but he personally didn’t. He felt the higher you went in the organization, the more example you should be.

One time somebody made a crack about another executive: “He acts like he owns the place.” Maxey responded, “I’m glad he believes that, and I wish everybody here believed it and acted that way.” He wanted everybody to have a genuine sense of ownership because he knew the motivation that developed.

He oiled his effort with a deep joy and thanksgiving. Throughout his Bible, he repeatedly marked verses on joy and thanksgiving. In his personal prayer list he noted the things to be grateful for before he turned to problems and requests. Thanksgiving was a great part of his relation with God. He had the humility of gratitude.

If Maxey were alive, I would never show him this article. He would be embarrassed. I can almost see him push his lower lip over the upper and scowl. If I insisted, he would recognize my right to be wrong and would probably say, “OK, if you think it will help, go ahead, but put some of my weaknesses in to balance it. You have said too many good things.” To this I would have replied, “Forget that. I’m writing this to share with others the helps you have given me, and it doesn’t help to give them your weaknesses. This isn’t biography; it’s distillation.”

In the last memo we exchanged, he wrote about various persons and their search for meaning in life. Maxey’s final statement, I think, will give you the key to his life: “The ultimate, and I guess very few, if any, ever get to the full level of this position, is to know God-not necessarily to do something for God, but to know Clod. Reference might be to Philippians 3, verses 8 and 10. I really believe the ultimate purpose is to know God. I guess I’d have to confess I’ve had a good feeling in the very considerable number of people I’ve known in various ways-bank presidents, financial people, industrial corporation heads, governors, presidents of the United States, prominent people in the Christian world, and so forth. But that really is rubbish, to use Paul’s term, compared with the privilege of knowing God. I still have a long way to go to let the Holy Spirit teach me about Jesus Christ and the other things I need to know.”

Copyright © 1981 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Pastors

Robert Schuller’s Irrepressible Legacy

Reflections from the life of a ministry pioneer.

FILE - In this Jan. 28, 1996, file photo, Rev. Robert H. Schuller, pastor of the Crystal Cathedral in Garden Grove, Calif., speaks at the church. Schuller, the Southern California televangelist who brought his message of "possibility thinking" to millions, died early Thursday, April 2, 2015, in California. He was 88. (AP Photo/Michael Tweed, File)

Televangelist and Crystal Cathedral founder Robert Schuller died on April 2 at the age of 88. Schuller, once one of the most influential ministers in the country, attracted both fans and critics for his upbeat and positive preaching style. We published the article below in 1981. It provides an inside look at his ministry philosophy for those reflecting on his legacy.

He has drawn both fire and plaudits with his drive-in church, television ministry, and Crystal Cathedral. Has Schuller abandoned the gospel for watered-down hi-jinks? Or is he effectively following Christ's pattern?

As churches of all types try to evaluate ministry models, Garden Grove Community Church usually becomes a reference point. Some people denounce its methods, saying many never hear the full claims of the gospel; others point to it as effective both in evangelism and congregational development.

What does Robert Schuller himself say he is trying to do? What is his overall strategy, and how should you view it in regard to your own ministry?

Here, in his own words, is a glimpse of how he came to his personal conclusions about ministry.

******

"I find a restiveness in man," the late Robert Ardrey wrote, "a dissatisfaction of a universal sort. The average human being, as I judge it, is uneasy. He is like a man who is hungry, gets up at night, opens the refrigerator door, and doesn't exactly see what he wants because he doesn't know what he wants. He closes the door and goes back to bed."

We can all identify with that statement, but that only sets the stage for the question: What is the ultimate hunger of the human being? For the past fifty years, psychologists and psychiatrists have been trying to answer that bottom-line question. Let's look at some of those answers.

The will to experience pleasure, according to Sigmund Freud, explains the basic deep-seated hunger of human beings. Beyond a doubt, the pleasure instinct is a very real and very powerful force in human behavior. On the other hand, men and women by the millions have been known to forsake pleasure in favor of work, love, religion, or war. Man craves something deeper than pleasure. The appetites of the eye, the stomach, the ear, and the sex organs can all be satisfied, yet the human spirit hungers for something more.

Alfred Adler came along and said that Freud's observations were too shallow. To him, the will to achieve power explains everything. The desire to be in control and the exhilaration of being in command illustrate man's drive for power. The bloody pages of history offer horrendous evidence that man will kill, cheat, lie, and betray his own soul in his pursuit of power.

Yet power does not produce ultimate satisfaction. On the contrary, power often produces enormous anxiety and feelings of insecurity. The man on the top is the man who is shot at, threatened, and challenged by those who seek his position of power. The possession of power often leads only to futility and frustration.

The late Victor Frankl detected a deep and powerful undercurrent in human motivational forces when he suggested that the will to find meaning is the ultimate hunger of man. With perception, he has pointed out that man is able to achieve mental and emotional equilibrium when he sees meaning in his life experience. This explains why some people are able to achieve peace of mind in the midst of enormous suffering and misery. He, of course, had experienced the Nazi death camps. His family was exterminated in the holocaust, and he alone survived. When Frankl stood naked before the Gestapo, they made him take off his wedding ring. At that horrible, terrifying moment, the thought came to him, "You can't take away my freedom to choose how I will respond to what you are doing to me." Yet deep inside, man seeks more than meaning.

Abraham Maslow suggests that man's deepest need is for self-actualization. Erich Fromm believes it is the will to love. Rollo May talks about the will to create. All of these men speak to one of the strong subsurface currents within man. But none of them identifies the basic force we are seeking.

The position I have taken is that none of these theorists is totally wrong, and no one is totally right.

There is a deeper human hunger that I call self-esteem. Based on my perception of the person of Jesus Christ, the work of Christ, and the teaching of Christ, I submit that the deepest of all human hungers is the need for self-esteem.

Historically, systematic theology has started with the doctrine of man. I agree with this approach, for the people that I am trying to talk to do not accept the Bible, God, or even Jesus Christ. But they do accept and believe in human beings. So I believe that it is my sincere calling from God to take the systematic approach.

The whole theology of self-esteem is a systematic theological approach. To be systematic in theology is not to be anti-biblical. It had better be biblical or it is not going to have integrity. But I chose the systematic theological approach because I feel that's the way to communicate to people who will ask questions, who will listen to answers, and, if it makes sense, they will accept it. That's our strategy at Garden Grove Community Church.

From that perspective, then, we have developed a system of theological concepts. I never verbalize them to the television congregation, but they undergird everything we say and do: our substance, our style, our strategy, and our spirit.

Mankind's deepest need is for self-esteem. I consider this to be universal. I have traveled around the world and met Christians and non-Christians in a variety of cultures and nationalities and have found this to be true.

Let me illustrate how this relates to sin, salvation, and fullness of life. I come out of a Reformed theological background. For my thesis at Western Seminary, I made a topical and a scriptural index to the

Institutes of the Christian Religion by John Calvin. I had to read through the Institutes word for word ten times, until I finished a 285-page index.

A central theme of Reformed theology is that a human being is, by nature, rebellious against God. But this does not go far enough. We must go deeper and ask why. The explanation given is that Adam and Eve disobeyed God and thus sinned in the Garden of Eden. They were expelled from the Garden, and that's it.

Let me illustrate with a cross-section slice of a golf ball. First, the outside of the golf ball is the white dimpled plastic. Classical theologians look at the golf ball and they see man, by nature, as rebellious against God. He sins, he steals, he kills, and he fights, unless he is born again.

Now when we say that man's nature is to rebel against God, we are looking only at the outside of the golf ball. We must ask the question: "Why is he that way?" or we won't know how to approach him. I contend that the skin of sin is rebellion. But at the very core of the golf ball, there is a hard rubber pea. That is the core with which all human beings are born, and I call that "negative selfimage."

Erik Erikson, an authority in child development theory today, contends that there are several stages of human psychological and emotional development. During the first twelve months, after the traumatic experience of being expelled from the womb and thrown into a world of sound and light and sensations, the child must learn to trust. It is not born with trust. In every premature nursery in America, nurses are taught to stroke and talk to the premature infant. Infants do not, by nature, trust!

If you want to know why Schuller smiles on television, if you want to know why I make people laugh once in a while, I'm giving them sounds and strokes, sounds and strokes. It's strategy. People who don't trust need to be stroked. People are born with a negative self-image. Because they do not trust, they cannot trust God.

So lack of trust is the exact opposite of saving trust. This is understood in the light of the classical Reformed theological definition of saving faith in Jesus Christ. Faith in Jesus Christ includes three elements:

¥ Knowledge of the facts surrounding Jesus Christ

¥ Belief that the facts are true

¥ Personally trusting in Jesus Christ alone for salvation

We want to see people turn from a negative self-image, or lack of trust, to trust in Jesus Christ. Unless trust is adequate, all kinds of defense mechanisms enter the picture. Because people don't trust, they wear masks; because they don't trust, they are not honest.

Second, around the hard, solid rubber pea in the golf ball there are all kinds of tight, stretched rubber bands. They represent the intricacies and complexities in each person of tensions, worries, fears, guilts ambitions, and ego trips. Finally, when you come to the outer skin, you have a rebellious person.

I happen to believe with all my soul and being that you don't approach the rebellious person and say, "Hey, buddy, you're rebellious." You're going to get a sock on the chin. But that's been the classical approach. Tell him what a sinner he is, convict him of his guilt. The trouble is that the only people who are getting that message are the Christians who are sitting in church. The sinners stay away like fat people avoiding a bathroom scale.

When this church was being started, I rang doorbells and asked, "Why don't you go to church?" "What books do you read?" I found the unchurched people were reading Norman Vincent Peale. So l invited Dr. Peale to come and preach in the drive-in theater, and I promised him a big crowd. I told him we had the biggest church parking lot (1,700 cars) in southern California where everybody can have a soft seat near an open window. Dr. Peale said he'd come.

For that Sunday we advertised in the sports page, the business page, the news section, and the women's page. We really blanketed southern California. The drive-in theater was jam-packed with cars. I'll never forget that Sunday, because a movie was playing on the life of Audie Murphy, the World

War II hero, and carried the title on the marquee "To Hell and Back-In Person-Norman Vincent Peale."

Well, that morning I forgot Dr. Peale's biographical sheet. As I walked up to the podium to introduce him I prayed for guidance. This is what came out:

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have with us today the greatest positive thinker in the world. His name is a household word. He is, in my mind, the most beautiful person I have ever known. If you get to know him personally and have a chance to talk to him alone as I have, you'll be born again. His name is Jesus Christ; and here to tell us all about him is Norman Vincent Peale."

Dr. Peale blushed from the collar up. My introduction had intimidated him, although I hadn't intended it to do so. He began, "If Jesus Christ were here today, what would he tell you? Would he tell you what terrible sinners you are?"

I thought, "Yes, he would." But Dr. Peale said, "No, I don't think he'd have to. Deep down in your soul you know it. What he would tell you is 'Follow me and I will make you fishers of men.' "

He started the sermon where I usually ended mine. I must tell you that my preaching strategy up to this time was to make the listeners realize how sinful they were; generate a sense of guilt within them; and then give them the Good News that they can be forgiven. I patterned this after the classical formula of the Heidelberg Catechism, question and answer number two:

How many things are necessary for you to know, that you in this comfort may live and die happily? Three: the first, how great my sins and misery are; the second, how I am delivered from all my sins and misery; and the third, how I am to be thankful to God for such deliverance.

I don't quarrel with this. I believe it. But as a strategy for mission, it's a lot better just to start with question and answer number one: What is your only comfort in life and death?That I, with body and soul, both in life and death, am not my own, but belong unto my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. …

That feeds my self-esteem. If he is mine, and if I belong to him, I am somebody.

Then Dr. Peale made another statement that was really very revolutionary. He said, "In fact, in the Bible, Jesus never called any person a sinner." I knew at that point he was wrong. So I went home that afternoon and I read through the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John in the King James Version, red-letter edition. I discovered that Jesus never called any person a sinner! He recognized the reality of sin. He recognized the fact that all persons were sinners, but to convert them, he didn't use the strategy of calling them sinners! Jesus did call some people snakes and vipers. Those stern words were used only against the religious leaders, who made it a practice to use their religious authority to deepen a sense of guilt rather than sharing the knowledge of God's grace. But Jesus didn't use that language when he was trying lo take a person of the world and turn him into a believer.

I don't think there is anything a minister could do that would provoke the wrath of Jesus more than if he failed to communicate to sinners the grace of God. But what is grace? Grace is God's love in action for people who don't deserve it.

Adam and Eve were created, according to Genesis, without sin. Then they fell, which means they had a chance. They knew better. If Adam and Eve were in my congregation, I would not hesitate to say, "Adam and Eve, you are sinners. You both knew better." But their children were born in the bushes, in hiding, and it's not fair to pick on those kids and preach to them as if they were the same as the parents. Those kids never had a choice. They never had a knowledge of the beauty of God. Adam and Eve did. They walked in the Garden. So you take the positive approach with their children, one that has some strokes in it.

If I had to write a book on communication, I think it would be a development of this one sentence: "I am not what I think I am; I am not what you think I am; I am what I think you think I am."

How do you approach people? You don't approach them through battering their self-respect and insulting their dignity. That violates their self-esteem. The worst sinner still is not a monkey. The human creature is a cathedral; not a shack. That's true whether he's white, black, yellow, or red; whether he's rich or poor, literate or illiterate, Mongoloid or genius. He's not a shack; he's a cathedral. He may be a cracked cathedral with the windows destroyed; he may be in ruins because of his rebellion, but he's still a cathedral because he was created in the image of God.

The secret of success is to find a need and fill it. Now apply that principle to communication. The theology of self-esteem produces a theology of communication. You never communicate with people by insulting, manipulating, or intimidating them. In all the churches and denominations there are people who claim to be Christians; they claim to be born again; they love the Word; they preach the Scriptures; and they know the right answers-but they're mean as the dickens. The love isn't there. And the number one reason is that the seeds of salvation were planted in the soil of some soul's shame, instead of being planted in the remnant of some soul's self-esteem. A person who is converted out of shame still has the same basic uncured problem of a negative selfimage. That's different from the person who experiences conversion and who knows out of the reality of what God thinks: "I am wonderful and he loves me, and he wouldn't stop at anything, not even the Cross, to make me his friend again." When you appeal to a person's self-esteem as a strategy for evangelism, a different kind of a Christian will emerge than when you appeal to a person's shame and degradation and insecurity.

That's why I won't be controversial from the pulpit when I'm communicating with unchurched people. The controversial material is better placed in the classroom setting where Christian education takes place. In that setting there is give and take. Dialogue takes place. Growth through interaction is experienced. This communication approach respects and promotes the dignity of the individual.

A theology of self-esteem also produces a theology of evangelism, a theology of social ethics, and a theology of economics; and these produce a theology of government. It all rises from one foundation: The dignity of the person who was created in the image of God. I see this relating to the central theme of salvation, which is clearly developed in the book of Romans. This is examined and well developed by Professor Anthony Hoekema in his book, The Christian Looks at Himself.

Let's suppose a person has a negative self-image. How would you build that person's selfrespect? Do you know what Jesus did? He approached Zacchaeus and said, "Let's have dinner together." When he came to Mary Magdalene he treated her like a lady.

"I'm not what I think I am; I'm not what you think I am; I am what I think you think I am." We become what people expect from us. We will fulfill the expectations that others hold for us.

If somebody with an immoral reputation invited me to have coffee with him, I would be a little ashamed to be seen with him. That would violate my self-dignity. If someone who is my equal invited me to have coffee with him, that wouldn't do anything for my self-esteem. If somebody high up the ladder, let's say the President of the United States, invited me to the Oval Office, that would give my self-esteem quite a boost.

But let's suppose there's somebody above the President whom almost everybody accepts as the Ideal One. In biblical terms, it's the Lamb of God without spot or blemish. Let's suppose he calls me on the phone and says, "Schuller, I want to meet you." So we meet all alone, and we talk, and he looks at me as if he really respects me. He puts his arm around me and makes me an offer: "I wanted to get together with you, Bob. You know, I'd like to live my life through yours if I could." And I say, "Wait a minute, I'm not good enough for you." And then he takes his robe of righteousness and puts it around me. "Here, wear this." I'm declared to be righteous by the person of God, and the righteousness of Jesus Christ is imputed, freely given to me as my own.

When you meet this Ideal One, who knows you as you really are but treats you as if you were perfect, you have a psychological, existential, and spiritual encounter with the grace of God at the most profound level. That's when you are truly born again. Now you can also accept yourself. "What is your only comfort in life and death?" You can now say:

. . . that I, with body and soul, both in life and death, am not my own, but belong unto my faithful Savior Jesus Christ; who with his precious blood has fully satisfied for all my sins, and redeemed me from all the power of the devil; and so preserves me, that without the will of my Father in heaven, not a hair can fall from my head; yea, that all things must work together for my salvation, wherefore by his Holy Spirit, he also assures me of eternal life, and makes me heartily willing and ready, henceforth, to live unto him.

Real self-esteem now emerges. Now I dare to receive the Holy Spirit because I feel worthy to be a channel for the Holy Spirit. And now it becomes possible for the fruit of the Spirit to flow through me in love, joy, and peace. I no longer have to function at the level of my old defense mechanisms: still insecure, defensive, touchy, and angry.

Don Quixote, The Man of La Mancha, beautifully illustrates the gospel of Jesus Christ. Cervantes portrayed the Ideal One as Don Quixote. Any Ideal One is going to be called crazy by the world; and they called The Man of La Mancha crazy. So he asked, "Who's crazy? Am I crazy because I can see the world as it could become? Or are you crazy because you see the world as it is? Who's really crazy?"

I have thought about that question, and I believe The Man of La Mancha is right. I'm not crazy if I'm an idealist. I'm not crazy if I'm a beautiful dreamer. People are crazy who only see the world as it is. They're crazy because they're not creative; they're crazy because they are not uplifting sources. Because they're not part of the solution, they keep the world as it is.

"I am not what I think I am; I am not what you think I am; I am what I think you think I am." If you say we are all sinners, you're right. I agree with you. Your condemnations only reinforce my own rebellion. So don't tell me what I am; tell me what I might become.

The Man of La Mancha sees this harlot, this whore, this Mary Magdalene. Aldonza is her name. She's a waitress by day and a prostitute by night. She serves the drunken camel drivers. The Man of La Mancha says to this whore, "My Lady." She looks at him and exclaims, "Lady?" Some camel driver makes a pass at her and she squeals . . . laughs. The Man of La Mancha says, "Yes, you are My Lady, and I shall give you a new name. I shall call you Dulcinea. You are My Lady . . . you are My Lady, Dulcinea."

Once, in distress, not comprehending him, when they are alone, she says, "Why do you do and say these things? Why do you treat me the way you do? What do you want from me? I know men. I've seen them all; I've had them all; they're all the same They all want something from me. Why do you say these things? Why do you call me Dulcinea? Why do you call me your Lady? What do you want?" He says, "I just want to call you what you are . . . you are My Lady, Dulcinea."

Later there is a horrible scene backstage. You hear screams . . . she is being raped. She runs onto the stage. She has been insulted with the ultimate indignity and she's crying and hysterical, dirty and disheveled. Her blouse has been torn off and her skirt is ripped. He sees her and says compassionately, "My Lady, Dulcinea, Oh, My Lady, My Lady."

She can't stand it and cries, "Don't call me a Ladv. Oh God, don't call me a Lady. Can't you see me for what I am? I was born in a ditch by a mother who left me there naked and cold-too hungry to cry. I never blamed her. She left me there hoping I'd have the good sense to die. Don't call me a Lady. I'm only a kitchen slut, reeking with sweat. I'm only a whore men use and forget. Don't call me your Lady. I'm only Aldonza. I am nothing at all."

As she runs into the night of self-flagellation he calls out, "But you are My Lady." The curtain drops.

The curtain rises, The Man of La Mancha is dying, like our Lord, from a broken heart, despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. To his deathbed comes a Spanish queen with a mantilla of lace. She kneels, makes the sign of the cross, and prays. He opens his eyes and says, "Who are you?" She replies, "My Lord, don't you remember? You sang a song, don't you remember? 'To dream the impossible dream, to fight the unbeatable foe, to bear the unbearable sorrow, to run where the brave dare not go. … ' My Lord, don't you remember? You gave me a new name, you called me Dulcinea." She stands proudly. "I am your Lady."

And the angels sing, and he goes to be with his Father. It is finished. She was born again.

That illustrates for me the gospel of grace in Jesus Christ. There is no philosophy, no psychiatric system, no theology of any religion in the world that can match this for an immortal soul.

Copyright © 1981 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Pastors

CRITICISM: FROM STUMBLING BLOCK TO STEPPINGSTONE

We all feel wounded by a critic’s arrows, but they can become goads to progress.

My wife recently shared with me something she had read. “People can be divided into three groups: those who make things happen, those who watch things happen, and those who wonder what happened.” I quickly added a fourth group: those w ho don’t like what happened, whatever it was!

This tendency has roots deep in human nature. It’s much easier to criticize another person than to offer something constructive ourselves. Attacking the ideas of someone else gives a feeling of superiority. It hides the fact that in the secret room of many Christians there is nothing-no praver, no reflection, no spiritual discipline. So people flee from dealing with their own inner problems by dwelling on another person’s shortcomings. There is little that will destroy the momentum of a church as rapidly as unbridled criticism.

Critical eyes often focus on the church leader. (Did something inside you just say “Amen” spontaneously?) How often has someone cornered you and said, “I hate to be critical, BUT. … ” (It’s odd how willing a person is to do something disliked so thoroughly.)

There is a story about Spurgeon that may or may not be apocryphal, but it contains a powerful message concerning the use of criticism. Earlv in his ministry, a member of Spurgeon’s congregation began writing anonymous letters hypercritical of his sermons. Week after week the letters arrived, dissecting without mercy his efforts in the pulpit. In his later years, Spurgeon said he would like to know who had written the letters, because more than any one person, that anonymous critic helped his preaching grow and develop.

You can change criticism from a stumbling block to a stepping stone. Rather than merely being irritated by it, you can be stimulated by it. Consider these suggestions for dealing with criticism:

1. Respond positively Proverbs 15:1 reminds us that “A soft answer turns away wrath.” Anger and defensiveness are ineffective. You can’t always do what the person giving the criticism wants you to do, but you can always respond positively. Try saying, “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.” This simple courtesy will defuse many a potentially explosive situation, even if you don’t follow the advice of the critic.

2. Never write in anger. I keep a file of letters I’m glad I never sent. Sometimes I write a complete letter expressing all my anger, how unjust l believe the criticism to be, and all the things I dislike about the critic. Then I file that letter in my folder of unsent letters and compose a letter with a positive, loving response. Written responses aren’t usually necessary unless the criticism comes in the mail; but if it is called for, don’t allow feelings of frustration to spill over in your letter. You will always regret sending angly letters.

3. Focus on solutions, not problems. Enlist the help of the critic in searching for solutions. This will subtly bring the two of you together, and will move you from the narrow confines of the problem to the broader field of possibilities for an appropriate plan of action. It’s surprising how often the simple question, “What can be done?” will soften the anger of criticism and turn it toward positive action.

4. Maintain a pastoral perspective. It’s always easy- to underestimate the problems of another person. The critic often is troubled by problems wholly unrelated to the verbalized reaction. I ask myself a simple question three different ways in every critical situation:

First, “Why is ale telling me this now?” Who is the critic? What is going on in his life? What are his problems? What are his secret wounds?

Second, “Why is he telling me(7 this now?’ What have I done k) precipitate this incident? What is our previous relationship and how does it affect this situation? What does he expect me to do about this?

Finally, “Why is he telling me this now?” What is the timing of the critical moment? What factors have influenced this situation? What is the immediate precipitation and how is it related to other episodes?

Somehow the church leader must see through the criticism to the person. Only love can cure. Anger will not; defensiveness cannot; even being right is not enough. Showing love in your response is part of your vocation.

5. Keep your eyes on the overall objectives. If you allow all the little daily irritations and frustrations to consume your energies, you’ll never achieve the big victories and your ultimate goals. The best antidote for everyday problems is a reexamination of your direction and prayerful consideration of your goals. Then lift your faltering vision to the important commitment of your ministry.

It was Theodore Roosevelt who wrote: “It is no the critic who counts, not the one who points of how the strong man stumbles or how the doer deeds might have done better. The credit belongs | the man who is actually in the arena; whose face | marred with sweat and dust and blood; who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, if he fails at least fails while daring greatly, that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

-William Boggs, pastor

First Church of the Nazarene

Los Angeles, California

Copyright © 1981 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Pastors

Comments From the Executive Editor

Few people know that Albert Einstein once postulated a mathematical formula for success. He said, “Success equals X + Y + Z. X is work, Y is play, and Z is ‘keep your mouth shut!’ “

For several months we found ourselves hiding behind letter Z when pressures built about addressing the subjects of success and growth. These two words may well be the “buzz” words (as in buzzsaw) of our time. In almost any setting, they have the capacity to ignite intense interest and passion.

One pastor described it this way: “An informal comment between two ministers such as ‘Have you heard about the successful singles ministry at First Church?’ will bring a hush over the monthly ministerial meeting that would make the creators of the E. F. Hutton commercials jealous.”

On page 54, Vernon Grounds asks “What is success?” a question that doggedly followed us for several months. Next to the subject of conflict, no theme has been more requested by our readers and, likewise, no topic has elicited such sharply contrasting opinions from them.

This response made us wish for the skills of G. K. Chesterton, the master of paradox. Chesterton could reveal opposites as both having validity.

Not being that talented, we chose an easier route, but one we think might be more helpful-a firm belief in the intelligence and maturity of our readers. This may seem like a gratuitous statement until we explain that 1) many manuscripts were rejected because we thought they told you something about success and growth you already knew, and 2) we thought you would want a broad cross-section of articles that represent no one school of thought and, in fact, might seem contradictory.

For example, you’ll see clear methodology conflicts in the Forum discussion. The articles by Peter Wagner and Robert Schuller contrast with the emphases by Vernon Grounds and Eugene Peterson. We determined to leave in the hard edges of conflict rather than try to synthesize them into simplistic, one-dimensional answers. However, we believe most of the material is complementary, a mosaic for the mature reader to sort through and evaluate. Tom Minnery (page 57) captures the spirit of what we want to achieve with this theme when he suggests that numerical and spiritual goals are not like the goals of a football field-when you run toward one you are running away from the other.

In this issue we welcome Fred Smith as a regular contributor. Perhaps you remember Fred as the businessman we interviewed in the first issue of LEADERSHIP about “dissecting sense from nonsense.” Fred has chosen to extract some stimulating leadership principles from the life and ministry of Maxey Jarman. Maxey, a Christianity Today board member for twenty-three years, was one of the first lay leaders to encourage us to launch LEADERSHIP.

We were also fascinated with the experiences our readers shared with Harold Myra (page 43) about trauma and betrayal. Although it is not a thematic piece, it confirms the old adage, “All growth is accompanied by some pain.”

Your gracious response to Harold’s inquiry prompts us to ask you for another favor. We’re looking for persons who have insights to share with the writer of the following letter we received. Take a moment to read it through.

Too often it seems that seminary graduates are limited to three options if they want to fulfill their call to a pastoral ministry: 1) youth ministry in a large church (multi-staff), 2) Christian education work in a medium-sized congregation (two or more staff members), or 3) a single-staff pastor in a small church. Available small churches seem to be the “undesirable” ones-those located in isolated, hard to reach places, or located in a declining urban area.

Responding to a call to be a pastor/ teacher, I came to a declining urban church-what appeared to be the best of my three options. After two years I think I have done everything well; but If eel awful about my lack of love for the congregation and the community. This is a job to me-and a frustrating one at that. The neighborhood has a high crime rate; If fear for my family’s safety as well as resent the broken church windows. The congregation is elderly, poorly educated, and set in their ways. In addition, the financial remuneration is extremely oppressive for a young family .

I feel guilty about complaining, but I also know I’m being realistic about my attitudes. I believe God has given me a great deal of ability to be used in the ministry, but already I want to bail out. There seems to be a lot of young ministers like me, working toward their next parish while resenting the present one. Is this sense of failure, frustration, and lack of love normal? Is it necessary? What are some non-simplistic suggestions for those of us who want to have an enjoyable as well as an effective ministry? Can/should ministry be enjoyable?

Does this letter reflect any familiar events in your own life? We’re asking you “who have been there” to give us thoughts and experiences we can share as responses to this letter in our next issue. Please write: LEADERSHIP Editor, 465 Gundersen Drive, Carol Stream, Illinois, 60187

* * *

One final note. Recently we have become aware that some of you are experiencing difficulty with your subscriptions. If-that’s true of you or a friend, please contact us directly at the above address, and we’ll see that the problem is resolved. Computers- Bah!

Copyright © 1981 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

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