Geographically, New York and Atlanta are less than 900 miles apart. Culturally, they occupy different universes. New York is fast-paced, cutthroat, and secular. Atlanta, by contrast, is southern, faith-friendly, the last big loop on the Bible Belt. • Like the cities in which they minister, Tim Keller and Andy Stanley are markedly different as well. Stanley is a pragmatist, a leader's leader known for his vision and commitment to creating environments where the unchurched feel welcomed. Keller, on the other hand, is a professorial presence, a skilled theologian who effectively addresses the doubts of intellectual urbanites. • Both have new books explaining their distinctive ministry philosophies. Tim Keller's tome is Center Church: Doing Balanced, Gospel-Centered Ministry in Your City (Zondervan, 2012). Andy Stanley's magnum opus is Deep and Wide: Creating Churches Unchurched People Love to Attend (Zondervan, 2012). • We spoke with Keller and Stanley about what they've written. Their answers uncovered some deep differences—and surprising similarities.
Andy Stanley
In the title of your book, what does "deep" refer to? And "wide"?
It addresses a tension a lot of people see with large churches. People think you can't be deep and wide. And since megachurches are wide (as in big), they assume they must be shallow. That's a misperception this book addresses. You can not only be both; you must be both. It's a false dichotomy, a false tension. We don't skimp on theology or content. We've been successful in capturing the imagination of unchurched people not in spite of depth but because of it.
You write about your parent's divorce, your complicated relationship with your father, and the decision to leave his church. How have those experiences shaped you as a leader?
It did a great deal for my courage. I had to choose to walk away from a wonderful ministry environment, which was very risky for me relationally and financially. There's something incredibly defining about leaving what's comfortable and familiar. Not just in ministry, but in life in general. And as horrible as that season of life was, for Sandra and me, we would both make the same decision again.
You're a master communicator. Isn't that the real reason your church has succeeded?
I'm really glad you asked that question. This past weekend we had more than 5,000 middle school and high school students at our Atlanta-area churches. That has absolutely nothing to do with my communication skills. This past weekend we had 650 sixth graders go on a weekend retreat. Just sixth graders! That has nothing to do with my communication skills either. The effectiveness of our church has far less to do with my abilities than it does with the systems we've created. It has to do with what we've learned about releasing people to do ministry and our commitment to creating environments that unchurched people find attractive. They stick. They don't agree with everything we teach, but they come back even if they don't agree.
I love it when leaders or even skeptics come and look behind the scenes at what we do, because they walk out and say, "Wow! There's a whole lot more to that than simply communication."
In Deep & Wide you identify five faith catalysts," ways people's faith is deepened. What's the significance of those?
We identified five things God uses to grow our faith. We built our entire ministry around them.
- Practical teaching
- Providential relationships
- Private disciplines
- Personal ministry
- Pivotal circumstances
These aren't the only ways God works. There might be six or eight or 20 things. But with us God seems to use these five dynamics over and over and over. They don't happen in any predictable order. So instead of creating a discipleship sequence in a series of classes, we have taught our people to be alert to these five dynamics that God uses throughout their lives.
"People are not on truth quests," you write. "They're on happiness quests." What's that mean?
If people were on truth quests, they'd all be on diets. We would have extraordinary physical discipline, because we all know what makes life healthy. But we're not on truth quests. That's why we eat dessert. Once I realize this, I say to myself, "Okay, when I show up on the weekend, I'm standing in front of people who, at the end of the day, just want to be happy." Well if that is the driving factor, and if I want to influence them, then I need to factor that into everything I do and say. Of course I don't have to take this into consideration. I can decide just to shoot truth at them. You know, unload with both barrels, go home and say, "Well, God, I told them the truth!" But if you want to impact people's lives, you have to start where they are, not where you'd like them to already be.
If that's your starting point, is there a temptation to avoid the harder truths?
Not if we truly believe that ultimate fulfillment is found in uninterrupted communion with our Creator. We all know unhappy rich people, and unhappy poor people—and happy rich people and happy poor people. Happiness is not reliant on circumstances. Something else that creates an inner sense of peace. And that's what people really want: peace.
There's a connection between peace and happiness. There's a connection between having a clear conscience and being happy. There's a connection between self-control and happiness. All the difficult truths ultimately lead people to a life far more fulfilling than the things they think are going to make them happy. The path of discipleship, following Christ, leads to a more fulfilling kind of life. So I don't think it's bad to start there, because at the end of the day, you end there, too.
What role should marketing play in the church?
People really hate to use the term marketing, but the truth is every church is presenting itself. The question is whether they're doing it well. A lot of churches are empty because they've successfully presented to the community that there's nothing here for you. And everybody believes it!
Marketing is about perception. You work to create a perception, which hopefully reflects the reality. Being intentional about how we present ourselves in the community is crucial. But it's not about billboards. We don't have a billboard. We don't buy radio spots. We don't have ads in the newspaper. Our marketing is our service in the community. Our marketing is our generosity to charities in the community. Our marketing is providing volunteers for other organizations. That's the best kind of marketing. Some people use leaflets and billboards. We don't do any of that. It's not necessary. But churches do need to pay attention to their reputation in the community. And if it's not what it should be, they have to address that.
Of course if people aren't even aware you're in the community, you have a marketing problem. If they know you're there but the perception is negative, you have a marketing problem. So you have to do something. Don't be afraid of that. Just accept this as the world we live in, and figure out a way to reshape your reputation in the community.
What role does entertainment play in ministry?
We want people to be engaged. There are only a few things that engage people. Entertainment's one of them. Tragedy is the other. And we don't want to go around creating tragedy! If the school calls to say your kid has been in an accident, you're very engaged. You get a call from your doctor after your blood work comes back, you're all ears. So apart from creating crises, we're left with entertainment to get people's attention.
I want everyone who comes to our church services to have laughed within the first five minutes. To unchurched people, that's a shock. They walk in assuming they're not going to enjoy themselves. They're asking, "How long will this last?" So right up front we tell them, "You're going to be here about an hour and five minutes." Then I want them to enjoy themselves, up until the point when they're confronted with truth. That might not be enjoyable, but by that time they've bought in. The gospel is offensive. We just don't want anything else in the church to be offensive. Let's let the gospel be the stumbling block, not what happens in the parking lot or hallways or announcements.
Is Sunday morning primarily for outsiders?
We begin by thinking that people are coming. Not insiders or outsiders, just people. Christians have more in common with nonbelievers than we like to think we do. Far more. We all want love. And satisfaction. Our bodies work exactly the same way. We all have to go to work, to get our kids through school. So to assume unbelievers are so different from us is a terrible idea. We create great experiences for people, because that's who's going to show up—people. There's just not that big of a difference.
Now, obviously, nonbelievers think there's a big difference. Some might think Christians are freaks or that we check our brains at the door. Who knows? So we do make an effort to create an experience where an unbeliever can go, Okay, this isn't so bad. This isn't weird. We want people to see that we are just regular people. When we communicate, it's all about creating an enjoyable experience for all of us.
How would you describe your role in the pulpit?
I'm an exhorter. I want people to do something because they're here. There's got to be a takeaway. It's got to be helpful. It has to help people stop doing something or to do something completely new. That drives my communication. People far from God usually don't take the Bible seriously. But if you help make their lives better, they will keep coming back.
Many of our Jewish attenders refer to me as "a motivational speaker." I'm not offended by that. They're saying you inspire me, even if I don't buy the Jesus part. And I'm thinking, I am so glad you're here! One of our Jewish attenders went through a divorce, and one Sunday during Christmas, it just happened. The veil was rent and she saw Jesus as her personal Messiah. But for years I was just a motivational speaker to her. I don't care. I just wanted her to keep coming.
I try to say things people can apply. And you know what? Jesus did that. I'm not merely a motivational speaker. But in order to start with people, we have to find common ground and be practical. At the same time, I can point to some successful pastors whose approach is way more theological than me, yet they still attract unchurched people. But I've found what works for me.
You write that "we're foolish to assume our ideas are trans-generational" or that "we will intuitively be able to sniff out the need for change in our own organization." How do you keep things fresh at North Point?
I have the advantage of a team of guys in their late thirties and early forties who are our campus pastors. I'm 54. So I'm able to skip down 10 to 15 years and put younger, much brighter, more culturally relevant leaders over churches in the Atlanta area. And because I meet with them every single week, I feel like I have multiple sets of eyes and ears on the ground, in the community. They hear and see the world differently than I do. They're in touch with a different generation. They keep me in touch with what we should and shouldn't do.
I actually make very, very few decisions. I do not have very many new ideas, and most of them are not good ideas. Sometimes when I suggest something, the people around me kind of roll their eyes like, No, that's not a good idea. I don't think I've had an original idea since we started the church. Things go better if I let the younger generation set the tone. And they're phenomenal.
I'm the point leader, but I don't lead the individual campuses. To be in touch with these younger leaders has been a huge asset for me personally and to our entire organization.
Tim Keller
What's "Center Church" mean?
Center means balanced, gospel-centered. In the book, I lay out several balances we're trying to strike. Getting the gospel right is a balance. It's neither relativism nor legalism. Churches shouldn't be too assimilated or too withdrawn from their cities and cultures. Churches also shouldn't be too fluid and cut off from tradition. Nor should they be too institutionalized, too traditional, locked in the past. So "Center Church" really refers to these importance balances.
Center Church is also about a way of doing ministry that is especially important to keep in mind if you are ministering in city centers. A lot of Christians and certainly evangelicals have found it difficult to minister in major urban centers. Even in parts of the world where the faith is growing rapidly, like Asia or Africa, they still have trouble reaching the very center of their cities. So the book's title is about creating the kinds of churches that will thrive in urban centers.
Yet this isn't exclusively for those ministering in big cities. After a number of years of ministry here in New York, I started laying out how we did things. I wasn't trying to speak to everybody, just urban pastors, those in a center city situation. But repeatedly I've been approached by people from other places who told us that what we're doing has broader application, that it's not just for people in these big center cities.
I've concluded that globalization, fueled by new technology, has probably meant that more and more non-urban places are becoming urban in their sensibility. It used to be kids in Iowa were extremely different from kids in New York City, but now because many of them consume the same media, that's just not the case. What we're talking about was born in the city, but we've found it has great transferability.
After your first decade of ministry, you served on the faculty of Westminster Seminary. How did this hiatus from pastoral ministry prepare you to start Redeemer?
When you're teaching you have to spend a lot of time reflecting and studying. At that point I had spent about a decade in practice where I didn't have the leisure to do much reading and reflection. It gave me the opportunity to do more theological reflection on virtually everything. I had to teach preaching. I had to teach leadership. I had to teach evangelism. It basically deepened me all the way around.
Westminster had a thriving urban ministry department, so my time at Westminster re-sensitized me to the importance of the city. It helped me think about how the gospel could work in the city. I had a general positive regard for the city, but when I was there, I was on the faculty with Roger Greenway, Edna Greenway, Harvey Conn, Bill Crispin—those folks helped me understand cities better, which is what really prepared me to go to New York.
You're a phenomenal preacher. Isn't that the real reason your ministry has succeeded?
Honestly I wrote the book largely because I was tired of people saying that. Laying aside for the moment a discussion of my talent, there is a way of doing ministry in the city that's gospel-centered, that's culturally engaged, that's evangelistic, that's holistic, and that's the secret sauce, as it were.
The pastor's talent is like octane. Some gas has higher octane than others. There are some pastors whose talents are such that they see broader impact, but ultimately it's not really the talent of the pastor that makes a ministry flourish. What really creates the traction we've gotten here is not my preaching; it's the stuff I describe in the book. I set out to counteract that very sentiment; that our fruitfulness is just due to my preaching. So I've written 400 pages of things any group of people can do. It's not just a matter of becoming a better preacher. That's the "great man" view of history, the theory that holds that God just works through great individuals. I think that's far too simplistic.
You write that having a doctrinal foundation is not enough. Can you explain?
The book is written in the middle space between doctrine and program. For example, let's just say we have two Presbyterian ministers who both believe the Westminster Confession. They agree on a long statement of faith, thousands of words of doctrine, and yet their ministries might look completely different. One uses contemporary music and the worship is very lively. The other person uses hymns, and the service is very austere. Why the difference? Because they have read the culture in different ways.
One person sees the culture as pernicious, totally toxic, and believes the best way to relate to it is at arm's length. Therefore any popular music, because it's the product of a corrupt culture, is suspect. The other person has read the culture as a mixture of good and bad, and is willing to accommodate it more. So two people can have the same doctrine and yet do totally different kinds of programs.
The reasons for their decisions may be invisible to them. Because even with the same doctrine, there are so many differences: how you read the culture, how you understand tradition and its relationship with the Bible, how you understand the roles of reason, rationality, and how faith relates to reason, how you even read the Bible. There's a whole lot of stuff in that middle space that determines how your doctrine is expressed in your time and place.
There are many books on the doctrine of the church, on what the Bible has to say about the church. I don't go there. And there are tons of books on program—how to evangelize, how to create community, how to organize your church, how to lead your staff. I don't go there either. I address that middle space. That's where a lot of assumptions about how we relate to culture play out. I want to help people do reflection in that middle space so they choose their programs wisely.
What role should marketing play in the church?
The critique is that the church has overused, maybe unconsciously, business marketing techniques. And I think that critique is probably half right. Whenever people talk to me about marketing, I say, "Tell me what marketing is." Some of what they usually describe seems like common-sense, wise communication. Some of it seems like manipulation. I commend wise communication, not the other parts that make me cringe.
I do feel that a lot of urban churches overdo it in this area. They create a façade. They have incredible websites and terrific published pieces. Their physical environments have a slickness and hipness about them. Some people are shocked to find none of that when they visit Redeemer. One person said, "It wasn't what I expected at all. Number one: There were no screens, no clips. It was very print-oriented. Very retro." This person also pointed out that I was an older guy, white hair, bald, and wearing a suit. He said, "This isn't my idea of an urban church at all." I found that amusing. But I think it shows that a lot of urban churches put way too much emphasis on branding and façade and first impressions.
I think the key is substance. Urban people recognize when they're being spun and do not respond well to that. I think a lot of times people feel like there's something more authentic about a place that doesn't have the screens, doesn't have the slick sites, and doesn't have a young, hip-looking person up front. It can backfire on you.
Is Sunday morning primarily for outsiders?
We do want to have evangelistic worship. But realistically the Sunday worship can't be a complete seeker service. Most skeptical people are simply not going to be showing up every Sunday. But a lot of non-Christians can be present—people who are being incubated, people who are in relationships with Christians, people who are kind of on their way.
Therefore I think a good 30 to 40 percent of what happens in the services should speak to both Christians and non-Christians. I think it's primarily for Christians, to edify them, but we should be very aware of non-Christians present and never forget them. We should constantly refer to them and think about them when we lead worship and preach.
How would you describe your role in the pulpit?
When Dr. Martin Lloyd-Jones died, his wife told people that her husband was first of all a man of prayer. Then, second, that he was an evangelist. Right now the jury's out on whether I'm a man of prayer; only my wife will be able to tell you after I'm dead. I don't know what she'd say right now, but that should be the first thing, because whatever else I am flows from that.
Second, I think I'm probably more of an evangelist than a teacher or pastor. So I would say that's essentially my role, and I'm eager to keep that as long as I'm here in the city.
How should the gospel shape ministry methodology?
The fact that we're saved by grace should keep us from being too culturally narrow. Legalism and insecurity, thinking we have to earn our salvation, leads people to take hold of cultural forms and turn them into principles. We really want to be assured we're right with God so we add rules that aren't in the Bible so we can do something to assure ourselves that our salvation is secure. The gospel frees us from that.
At the same time, just as we are saved by faith alone, we're saved for holiness. There's a new desire to please God. You don't just live any way you want. That balance between legalism and antinomianism has implications for how we do ministry.
It should lead us to be both flexible in the way in which ministry is shaped—not rigid, not too traditional—but at the same time still very afraid of offending God, of grieving and dishonoring the One who saved us.
It leads us to be more careful, to honor the past. It prevents us from being either too institutional or anti-institutional. It keeps us from being too contextualized or under-contextualized.
The gospel brings a wonderful balance.
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