When I first came to my present pastorate, I wanted a vision à la (“Where there is no vision, the people perish”). I wondered, What does God have in mind for our church?
For several months, though, I concentrated on building relationships, establishing credibility, and hearing the leaders’ ideas about the church. Before long my days were spent in disjointed attempts to repair programs or solve people-problems. I became bogged down in routine. My hope of finding a vision, a long-term goal for the church, never materialized.
I looked to the elders for leadership, but they spent all their time, like me, solving problems instead of providing vision.
In the midst of my frustration, however, I had two hit-yourself-in-the-head realizations.
First, in 20 years of ministry I had never seen a committee receive a vision. Committees had offered wonderful methods to accomplish a vision or reach a goal. They had confirmed and refined an individual’s insights. But I had never seen vision originate in group process—not in the Bible, not in the church.
Second, the problem was not my inability to discover and articulate a vision. My problem was more basic: interruptions and distractions hindered me from seeing where God was leading.
These distractions were good and necessary elements of ministry—daily devotions, sermon research, pastoral care, and administration. But they hindered me from discovering God’s larger purpose for this church.
The itch I sensed in me and my congregation was twofold: (1) we wanted a long-term goal larger than our routine, and (2) we wanted our purpose to go beyond our local church.
Unspoken Plea
Though they may not be able to articulate it, church members sense a need for long-range planning. Like the second law of thermodynamics, congregations tend to unwind and break down.
The most compelling reason I have for going away to pray is to find what God is saying to our congregation in the context of the larger church. Local church projects are fine, but they often don’t fulfill our highest priorities. New church program emphases are good, but so often they lack a sense of the eternal. Even emergency projects leave laypeople wondering, Is there a broader point to all this?
After five years as pastor here, I still hear questions such as: “Where are we going? What vision do the leaders see for our church?” Such specific questions cannot be answered by our mission statement: “The mission of Northland Community Church is to bring people to maturity in Christ.” We have to offer more than that, because people need specific answers to these questions before they are willing to fully commit themselves to the congregation.
The immediate frustrated my attempts to find the eternal. Until I learned to get away, I struggled to reconcile the immediate needs with a larger vision. I decided to simply get away from the church and its routine, even if only for a few days, to do what I—and no one else in the congregation—am called to: gaining vision for the future.
Risky Retreats
Moses heard God on the mountain, but I had trouble taking time to separate myself as he did to be with God. Besides my busyness, I recognized that getting away entailed some risks. Here are some concerns I faced:
Something traumatic will happen in the church while I am gone. I will be misunderstood. “Yeah, I wish I had a job where I could just go and dream all day,” parishioners may say. I will go away and come back empty. What if I think, pray, and wait, and the Spirit says nothing? My vision may get vetoed.
I went ahead with my plans to get away. I felt if I didn’t take such risks, I’d never gain a vision for the congregation.
My first attempts to hear from God were neither long nor far away. I wanted to see whether a day in a library or a walk on the beach would benefit me. Through those early experiences, God confirmed two things to me.
First, I sensed that we were not too far from the mark. God used the quiet to give comfort and peace about the church. I began to appreciate the good things: the congregation’s earnest desire to love God more, our outstanding staff, our very adequate facilities, and our people’s desire for vision, rather than being satisfied with just fixing problems.
Second, I began to see that the work of the kingdom is not left to us alone. The Baptist church is literally the friendliest church in town—it’s not just their slogan, it’s their gift! The Assemblies church focuses on healing and confidence, restoring bruised people. The Presbyterian church concentrates on a rich heritage of Reformed theology and distinguished tradition. God offers all of these churches to our community. Our church need not try to imitate any of them. We can simply add another facet to the diamond.
These came to me not as staggering revelations to the mind, but as balm to my spirit.
A number of these brief times away convinced me that God was involved in the present. I could then begin to concentrate more on the future.
On a trip to a lake house, I outlined three months of sermons. Later, I perceived a theme we should develop through an entire year. In addition to monthly goals, I plotted each week’s sermon topic for the entire year.
After my third long-range planning trip, almost three weeks in Colorado, I was ready to offer the church leadership a way to fulfill our mission of bringing people to maturity in Christ. It would be a ten-year process toward Christian maturity. Rather than accumulate biblical principles for specific problems, the process would spend a year weaving one major biblical theme (purpose, faith, reason and revelation, holiness, witness, worship, among others) into people’s character.
What Changed
As a result of my times away, both the church and I have changed the way we approach ministry. The elders, for instance, are now asking practical and helpful questions about the long-range plans of the church: “If this ten-year process is progressive, what will happen to those joining us in years to come? Will they understand the foundation we laid at the beginning?”
The other pastors and staff are working on the implications for their areas. For instance, in youth ministry, we’re asking, “Should we write a curriculum to take teenagers through the process?” In pastoral care, we’re asking, “How does our home group ministry change in light of a long-term church focus?” In the area of leadership development, we’re discussing, “What kind of congregational leadership will we need for such a process?”
In addition, my preaching and planning now are markedly different. They are, I trust, still relevant to current issues, but they also paint with a broader stroke. People have a sense of anticipation as well as a sense of history. Planning around a larger theme allows latitude even as it insures consistency.
For example, I will begin the emphasis on maturity with a series on “Paying Off the Past,” exhorting people to reduce their debts—whether financial, emotional, or spiritual—so they can be free to move into the future. I know the messages will have specific application, given the current consumer debt load in this nation and knowing how unresolved emotional problems cause most counseling needs. At the same time, the broader perspective of what we can become serves as our primary motivation.
Long-range planning, then, is more than practical; it is inspirational. It does more than fix; it fulfills.
On another level, three things in particular have amazed me about my times away. First, I found that prayer never diminishes the amount of work I can do; it multiplies my accomplishments. Sometimes I return with so much for my secretary to type that it seems I haven’t taken time to pray. On the contrary, it was because I had time to pray that the ideas flowed.
Second, my time away has also increased my pastoral effectiveness. I used to be easily distracted from conversations, thinking about work I wanted to do elsewhere. When I take time now to chart progress and direction, I can give more undivided attention to people as I meet with them.
Finally, instead of resenting my going away, the church leadership and staff appreciate someone taking the time needed to consider our future. They know they will have input without having to create vision in committee.
In the Details
I’ve noticed that if I pay attention to certain details, my time away is more productive. To help me concentrate, I try to eliminate distractions beforehand. I need to know the church is covered, my family is secure, and that no one is overburdened. My secretary reminds me in advance of any such details.
The setting where I go can distract me if I don’t select it carefully. It helps if I know no one there, if there is no TV, and if food and reading—two of my favorite activities—are kept to a minimum. I usually take only a Bible, a writing tablet, and several mechanical pencils.
Studying and praying before I leave on a trip probably prepares me for my time away better than anything else. Faith seems to come more easily when I assume in advance that God wants to reveal his plans for our lives.
While I’m away, I try to call home every night. Calls earlier in the day would tempt me to think about church routine or my family. My wife, Becky, fills me in on messages or events. I have not yet been brave enough to go somewhere without a phone. Besides, because I miss my family, a nightly call helps me sleep and concentrate on the next day.
Also the very way I pray while I’m away makes a difference. For instance, I find it more productive not to pray about a specific agenda but simply to pray for a sense of God’s love and leading in my life. For me, thinking things through in the presence of God prepares me to discover his agenda.
Some years ago, I had a disagreement with one of my denominational officials. At the same time, a man in our congregation verbally attacked me and my wife. After weeks of trying in vain to put this experience behind me, my wife scraped together enough money for me to get away to pray.
During those days away, God began healing me, showing his love to me. I began to see the incidents in perspective and realized what God could build in the future. I was able to come back, submit willingly to the denominational officials, and love the man who had attacked us.
I am grateful my wife saw a need in me I could not perceive. That time away not only gave me perspective on the future, it was a time of healing.
Another added benefit of getting away is that it allows my creative juices to flow. My weekly routine is not creative. Study time, small group meetings, counseling, calling, and administration comprise routine in my ministry. I enjoy these activities; they all add something valuable to my life and ministry. Yet they do not provide much chance for creativity.
I find it necessary to pray and fast in order to be creative. I must fast from conversation. I must fast from normality. I must fast even from religious activity.
During a recent planning retreat I found myself writing ideas for dramas in worship. I’ve never done that in my life! Whether these dramas are performed is beside the point. I realized that even after years of established patterns, completely new aspects of ministry can be born within me during planning retreats.
For years I pastored churches by problem-solving rather than planning. No matter how many problems were solved, however, I never felt we made progress. The size and number of the problems set the pace of the church and the pastor. I remember leaving church board meetings knowing that the church was afloat but somehow adrift.
My perspective has changed. Immediate problems are opportunities to adjust our long-range course, a destiny we eagerly anticipate. More important, we’re no longer in a hurry. Our goals are not emergencies. So we don’t worry. We have heard from God, and we will, in time, get to his goal for us.
From the book Renewing Your Church Through Vision and Planning, copyright © 1997
