Tag: change (Page 1 of 4)

The Chaplaincy Trap

June 3, 2026 / / 0 Comments


The Outward Turn  ·  Part One

If your church ceased to exist tomorrow, would anyone outside your congregation know it was gone?

Sit with that question for a moment before you answer it.

Not the people on your roster. Not the families who would miss Sunday morning. Not the pastor whose livelihood depends on the doors staying open. I mean the neighbors. The apartment complex two blocks away. The single mom who drives past your building every morning on her way to work. The young couple who moved into the neighborhood last year and has no idea your church exists. The business owner on the corner whose employees walk past your parking lot every day.

Would any of them notice?

For most congregations in America, and I say this not to wound but to wake, the honest answer is no. And that’s not a condemnation of the people in those churches. Most of them are good, faithful, loving people who genuinely believe in what they’re doing. But somewhere along the way, without a single dramatic decision, without anyone choosing it on purpose, the church turned inward. And it stayed there.

That’s the chaplaincy trap. And it’s far more common, far more subtle, and far more dangerous than most church leaders are willing to admit.

How It Happens: Comfort to Competency to Identity

Nobody decides to become a chaplaincy church. It doesn’t show up on a vision statement. No board votes to stop caring about the community outside their walls. It happens incrementally, organically, almost invisibly. And it follows a remarkably consistent pattern.

It starts with comfort. A congregation naturally gravitates toward the things its people enjoy, the programs that feel meaningful, the worship style that resonates, the community events that draw a crowd from within. That’s not inherently wrong. A church should be a place where people are genuinely nourished.

But comfort, left unchecked, slides into competency. We get good at the things we do repeatedly. The choir sounds great. The Sunday school runs smoothly. The potluck is legendary. The small groups are warm and connected. These are genuine goods. But they’re all goods that serve the people already in the room.

And then, and this is the critical moment, that competency hardens into identity. What we do becomes who we are. The choir isn’t just a ministry anymore; it’s the soul of this congregation. The Sunday school isn’t just a program; it’s our heritage. And at that point, any suggestion of change doesn’t feel like a strategic conversation. It feels like an existential threat.

The drift is complete. The church now exists, functionally, to sustain itself. The budget reflects it. The calendar reflects it. The staff structure reflects it. And the community outside the walls? They have no idea the church is there because the church has no idea they exist either.

The chaplaincy trap isn’t about bad people. It’s about good people who stopped asking the most important question: who are we here for?

What It Looks Like in Practice

Pull out your church’s budget from last year. Not the vision statement on the wall the actual budget, where the actual dollars went. Ask yourself one question as you read through it:

How much of this spending is oriented toward people who are not yet in this room?

In most congregations, the honest answer is somewhere between five and fifteen percent. Everything else – staff, facilities, programs, insurance, utilities, equipment – serves the people already gathered. That’s not automatically wrong. But if nearly every dollar is pointed inward, the budget is telling you something the vision statement is not.

Now look at the calendar. Count the events from the last twelve months. Sort them into two columns: events designed primarily for the congregation, and events designed primarily to reach, serve, or welcome people who aren’t part of your church. In most congregations, the second column is nearly empty or at best populated with things like a trunk-or-treat that technically invites the community but is really designed to make insiders feel like they’re doing outreach.

Now look at your staff or volunteer leadership structure. Who has a defined role oriented specifically toward people outside the walls.  Not just hospitality to Sunday morning visitors, but intentional, sustained engagement with the surrounding community? For most churches, the answer is no one.

Budget. Calendar. Staff. These three things tell you more about a church’s actual priorities than any vision statement ever written. And in a chaplaincy church, all three point the same direction: inward.

The Theological Problem Underneath the Practical One

Here’s where I need to say something that goes beyond strategy and budgets, because the chaplaincy trap is not just a leadership failure. It is a theological one.

The church was not gathered by Christ in order to maintain itself. It was gathered in order to be sent. The Great Commission is not an addendum to the Christian life. It is its central organizing principle. The verb “go” is the first word of the gospel commission. Not “gather.” Not “sustain.” Go.

When a congregation loses its outward orientation, it doesn’t just become less effective. It becomes something subtly different from what Jesus intended the church to be. A community that exists primarily to serve its own members is a club, not a church. No matter how sincerely it worships, how soundly it preaches, how warmly it fellowships.

The Apostle Paul’s image of the body in 1 Corinthians 12 is instructive here. Every part exists for the sake of the whole. And the whole exists for the sake of the world. A body that turns all its energy inward, that consumes its own resources on its own comfort, is not healthy. It is ill. And the illness, if untreated, is fatal.

A body that consumes all its energy on its own comfort isn’t thriving. It’s sick. And a congregation that exists primarily for itself has quietly traded the Great Commission for a much smaller story.

The Way Out Is Not a Program. It’s a Posture.

If you’re reading this and feeling the weight of recognition. If some part of you is thinking yes, this is us, and I don’t know how we got here…I want to offer something more useful than guilt.

The way out of the chaplaincy trap is not a new outreach program. It’s not a rebranding effort, a new series, or a community event. Those things can be useful, but they treat the symptom rather than the disease. What actually changes a chaplaincy church is a shift in posture. It’s a fundamental reorientation of how the congregation understands its own existence.

That shift starts not with programs but with proximity. It starts with leaders. No, not just pastors, but elders, deacons, ministry chairs, and committed lay people. It’s leaders choosing to spend intentional time in the community they say they want to reach. Not with an agenda. Not with a tract. Just present. Learning names. Understanding needs. Asking questions instead of offering answers.

It starts with a budget conversation that asks not just “what do we need to sustain our ministries” but “what would we need to fund if we were serious about the people outside this building?” That conversation will be uncomfortable. It should be.

It starts with a calendar that has white space on it. Space not filled with another congregational event, but held open for something that doesn’t exist yet. New ministry rarely gets started because there’s a perfect opportunity. It gets started because someone decided to make room for it before they knew what it would become.

And it starts with the question we opened with. Asked not once, but regularly. Asked in board meetings. Asked in budget reviews. Asked in staff conversations and small group discussions.

If we ceased to exist tomorrow, would anyone outside this room know we were gone?

If the answer is no, or even maybe, that’s not a verdict. It’s your invitation.

Leader Assessment

These questions are designed to be answered in two stages. Sit with the personal questions alone first. Honest self-assessment is the foundation of honest leadership.

Sit With These Alone First

When was the last time I had a meaningful conversation with someone in my community who has no connection to my church – not to recruit them, but simply to know them?

If I’m honest, do I spend more of my leadership energy sustaining what exists or creating space for what doesn’t yet exist?

What would I have to give up personally to lead the church toward a more outward posture? Am I willing to pay that cost?

Bring These to Your Leadership

Pull out last year’s budget and calendar. What percentage of our spending and programming was oriented toward people not yet in this congregation? What does that number tell us?

Ask the question plainly: If our church ceased to exist tomorrow, would anyone outside this congregation notice? What would need to change for the answer to become an unambiguous yes?

Name one specific neighborhood, demographic, or community within two miles of this building that has no meaningful connection to our church. What would it cost us in time, money, and energy to begin building one?

Next in this series: the case for merging, consolidating, and going multisite not as institutional strategy, but as the most faithful thing a dying congregation and a growing one can do for each other.

What My Chickens Are Teaching Me This Season

May 14, 2026 / / 0 Comments

If you would have told me ten years ago that I’d live on 13 acres with about twenty chickens and a substantial garden, I would likely have laughed in your face. But here we are. And I’m loving it.

But I will tell you that life on a farm, even a mini farm, isn’t for everyone. You either love it or you’re gonna hate it.

Like the night the guy who helps farm my land decided to spray the field. Nope, not with weed killer or any pesticides. This was straight up liquified hog manure. And unless you’ve smelled it, you can’t appreciate the speed with which we closed every window and door in the house.

There’s a rhythm to life on a piece of land like this. Seasons change and with every changing season you find a new pace. Then there’s the livestock. We have chickens, but other animals have similar cycles. Some seasons those little feathered velociraptors push eggs out faster than you can eat them. They forage through every open piece of ground they can find. They’ll eat just about anything. They’ll debug your garden or your fruit trees. They’ll take care of the weeds if you let them. But they’re indiscriminate, so just be careful.

But chickens aren’t always dropping those yolked shells of goodness. Some seasons they have to redirect their energy and capacity to keep warm, or to regrow feathers during molting season.

Life in many ways is like taking care of land or livestock. There are seasons to how we live.

The molting season is the one nobody likes to talk about. The chickens look terrible. Feathers are everywhere. Production drops to almost nothing, and that’s if you’re lucky enough to still get an egg a day from your flock. Until I knew better, I thought something was wrong.

But that’s the thing. Nothing is wrong. Everything is exactly right. The chicken isn’t broken. It’s just redirecting. All that energy that was going into egg production is now going somewhere less visible. Regrowth. New feathers. Renewed capacity for the season ahead.

People have molting seasons too.

There are seasons where output drops and you can’t explain why. Where you feel like you should be producing more but everything in you is just… quiet. You might even be a little featherless and rough around the edges. The seasons where you look at yourself in the mirror and think something has to be wrong.

But what if nothing is wrong? What if you’re just molting?

You probably didn’t choose this season. The chicken didn’t either. The season made that decision for it. And the chicken doesn’t fight it. It doesn’t fret because it’s losing feathers. It doesn’t panic because the egg production is down. It just molts.

There’s something humbling and freeing about that. The reality that we don’t always get to choose the season we’re in. Sometimes the quiet, stripped-down, low-output season isn’t failure. It isn’t a lack of effort or discipline. It’s just where you are.

Your job isn’t to stop the molt. It’s to recognize the disheveled mess of feathers around you and stop fighting it.

Bubble Wrap Won’t Save You

February 11, 2026 / / 0 Comments

I’ve been slowly working through The Coddling of the American Mind by Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt, and it’s one of those books that makes you stop mid-page and think, Yep… that explains a lot.

The authors argue that well-intended efforts to protect people, especially young people, from discomfort, offense, or risk have reshaped American culture in ways we didn’t anticipate. They call this mindset “safetyism.” It’s the belief that emotional and psychological safety should be prioritized above nearly everything else, and that exposure to difficult ideas or experiences is inherently harmful.

Lukianoff and Haidt trace how this mentality shows up on college campuses and in public discourse: speech codes, trigger warnings, growing intolerance for disagreement, and a tendency to see conflict not as something to navigate but as something to eliminate. They connect these trends to changes in parenting styles, social media dynamics, and a decline in unstructured play. They argue that many kids have grown up physically protected but emotionally fragile, unused to taking risks or handling friction.

One of the book’s most helpful contributions is its exploration of what they call the “three great untruths” shaping modern thinking:

  1. What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker.
  2. Always trust your feelings.
  3. Life is a battle between good people and evil people.

The authors counter that adversity often builds strength, feelings can mislead us, and the world is usually more complicated than simple moral categories. They lean on psychological research about resilience and cognitive behavioral therapy, emphasizing that growth often comes through facing discomfort rather than avoiding it.

You don’t have to agree with every conclusion in the book to find its diagnosis compelling. It’s a cultural X-ray that reveals how quickly protection can turn into paralysis.

My Reaction

What keeps echoing in my mind is that: we cannot protect ourselves from every concern in the world.

And maybe more importantly that trying to do so might be doing us real harm.

There is something deeply human about struggle. About learning to carry weight. About discovering, often the hard way, that you can endure more than you thought possible. When every rough edge is sanded down and every hard conversation is avoided, we don’t become safer. We become smaller.

I see this not just culturally, but also spiritually.

A life aimed at eliminating all discomfort will eventually avoid truth. Growth, and I mean real growth, almost always involves friction. Confession is uncomfortable. Repentance is uncomfortable. Forgiveness is uncomfortable. Loving people who disagree with you is uncomfortable. Yet those are precisely the places where transformation tends to happen.

The Christian story has never been about insulation from pain. It’s about redemption through it.

That doesn’t mean we should be reckless or cruel or dismissive of real trauma. Care matters. Compassion matters. Protection has its place. But there’s a difference between guarding someone and building a padded cell around their life.

If we teach ourselves and our kids that fragility is normal and avoidance is wisdom, we shouldn’t be surprised when courage becomes scarce.

Perhaps one of the most loving things we can do for one another is not to remove every obstacle, but to walk together through the hard things and remind each other: You’re stronger than you think. And you’re not alone.

That feels like a truth worth recovering.

How to Course-Correct Without Shame

January 15, 2026 / / 0 Comments

You don’t wake up one day and decide to drift.

You wake up one day, pause long enough to be honest, and realize…
I’m not where I meant to be.

That realization can hit hard. Spiritually. Relationally. Personally.
And for a lot of people, that moment becomes dangerous. It’s dangerous not because of the drift itself, but because of what they tell themselves next.

“I’ve blown it.”
“I should be further along.”
“I need to fix this before God wants anything to do with me.”

That voice doesn’t lead to repentance.
It leads to hiding.

Let’s get something straight: drift is not failure it’s feedback.

Drift Reveals, It Doesn’t Condemn

Drift exposes where attention slipped.
Where boundaries softened.
Where urgency faded.

And Scripture is clear: God does not respond to drift with disgust. He responds with invitation.

“Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.” (Joel 2:13, ESV)

Grace doesn’t excuse drift.
But grace does make correction possible.

Three Lies That Keep People Stuck

If drift is common, why don’t more people correct course? Because they believe lies.

Lie #1: “I’ve drifted too far.”
Distance feels longer than it is. Pride exaggerates the gap.

Lie #2: “I need a full restart.”
No, you need a realignment, not a reinvention.

Lie #3: “I’ll get serious when life settles down.”
Life doesn’t settle down. Direction is chosen in chaos or not at all.

These lies keep people stalled when God is inviting movement.

How to Course-Correct (Without Overhauling Your Life)

Correction doesn’t require drama. It requires honesty and obedience. Here’s how real course correction actually works:

1. Stop and Name the Drift
Be specific. Where did you lose focus? Prayer? Scripture? Community? Integrity? Say it out loud. Drift loses power when it’s named.

2. Re-Center on Direction, Not Guilt
Go back to the theme or Word that was meant to guide you. Guilt focuses backward. Direction focuses forward.

3. Restart One Daily Rhythm
Not ten. One.
Five minutes of prayer.
One chapter of Scripture.
One protected boundary.
Consistency beats intensity every time.

4. Bring One Person Into It
Isolation accelerates drift. Accountability corrects it. Tell someone you trust not for shame, but for alignment.

That’s it. No dramatic reset. No public apology tour. Just obedience.

Grace Is the Power Source

Correction without grace leads to burnout.
Grace without correction leads to drift.

Jesus offers both.

He doesn’t say, “Try harder.”
He says, “Follow me.”

And following always involves movement sometimes back toward center.

Let me coach you straight for a moment.

First:
You don’t need to punish yourself to prove sincerity. You need to obey quickly.

Second:
The longer you delay correction, the farther drift takes you. Course-correct early. Pride makes the walk back longer than it needs to be.

Here’s the truth most people miss:

The moment you realize you’ve drifted is not a moment of failure. It’s a moment of clarity.

Don’t waste it.

You don’t need a perfect restart.
You need a humble realignment.

And grace is already waiting at the center.

Drift Is The Enemy

January 7, 2026 / / 1 Comment

Most people don’t fail their New Year goals because they quit.

They fail because they drift.

They start January with energy, motivation, and good intentions. They don’t abandon the plan outright. They just slowly stop paying attention. Days blur together. Priorities soften. What once felt urgent becomes optional. And before they know it, they’re moving… just not anywhere that actually matters.

Drift is far more dangerous than quitting.

When you quit, you know it. When you drift, you convince yourself you’re still “basically fine.”

Spiritually, relationally, physically no one drifts toward health, depth, or faithfulness. Drift always moves you somewhere unintended.

“Pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it.” (Hebrews 2:1)

That verse exists for a reason.

Motion Is Not Direction

Busyness is not faithfulness. Activity is not obedience. Motion is not direction.

You can fill your calendar, crush tasks, and still slowly drift away from who God is calling you to be. You can stay “productive” while losing clarity, purpose, and conviction.

Drift happens when:

  • You stop deciding and start reacting
  • You stop praying and start assuming
  • You stop leading your life and start letting it happen

The reality is: If you don’t choose a direction, your life will choose one for you.

You Don’t Need 12 Goals. You Need a Compass

This is why I’m convinced most people don’t need more resolutions. They need more focus.

Not a to-do list.
Not a productivity hack.
A directional anchor.

Ask yourself this uncomfortable question:

If I keep living exactly the way I am right now, where will I end up?

Not where you hope to end up.
Where your current habits are actually taking you.

That answer doesn’t lie.

This is where a Word or Theme for the Year becomes powerful. It’s not just trendy, not cute, but clarifying. One word that acts like a compass. A filter. A line you refuse to cross.

Words like:

  • Faithful
  • Courage
  • Rooted
  • Undivided
  • Obedient

Not aspirational fluff directional clarity.

Drift Is Subtle. Direction Is Chosen Daily.

You don’t drift all at once. You drift a little at a time:

  • One skipped prayer
  • One unguarded yes
  • One “I’ll deal with that later”

That’s why direction has to be chosen daily, not annually.

Daily rhythms beat big intentions every time.

If you don’t decide:

  • when you’ll pray
  • how you’ll be in the Word
  • what you’ll say no to
  • who speaks into your life

Then friend, you are already drifting.

Hard Question Time

Let’s be honest:

  • Where have you been drifting spiritually?
  • What conviction have you softened?
  • What discipline have you rationalized away?
  • What decision are you avoiding because clarity would require courage?

Drift feels harmless until one day you look up and don’t recognize where you are.

Let me leave you with two coaching challenges.

1. Name the Drift.
You can’t correct what you won’t confront. Write it down. Say it out loud. Bring it into the light. Drift loses its power when it’s named.

2. Decide One Non-Negotiable.
Just one. A daily practice, boundary, or rhythm that anchors you to direction. Small. Clear. Unbreakable. This is how momentum becomes faithfulness.

You don’t need a perfect plan for the year.

You need clarity, conviction, and the courage to refuse drift.

Don’t just avoid quitting this year.

Choose direction and walk it on purpose.

A Few Changes Are Coming

October 22, 2025 / / 2 Comments

There’s a shift coming to the blog next month. Don’t worry! I’m not selling essential oils or becoming one of those skinny jeans wearing worship pastors. No offense to my essential oil (aka voodoo oil friends) or you skinny jean wearing peeps! Those have their place but it isn’t likely on this blog. I’m just tired of pretending that “pastor” is the only hat I wear.

Somewhere between the pulpit and my zero turn mower, God’s been reminding me that faith isn’t meant to live only in the sanctuary. It’s also in the sweat, the soil, and the sips around a backyard firepit.

For years, derrickhurst.org has been mostly ministry-focused. Like sermons, church leadership, discipleship, the usual “pastor stuff.” And I love that. I’ll keep writing about faith and leadership because that’s who I am. But it’s not all that I am.

I’m also a guy who loves lifting weights and the way it preaches discipline louder than most devotionals.

I’m a guy who likes a good bourbon not for escape, but because slowing down long enough to actually taste something is a spiritual act these days.

I’m a guy who finds God in dirt under the fingernails, broken tools, and the slow redemption of a half-dead garden.

And maybe that’s the point,  God is just as present in the mundane as He is in the miraculous. So, you’re going to start seeing a bit more of those mundane moments here. Posts about working out, working the land, coaching pastors, and wrestling with what discipleship actually looks like when the Bible closes and Monday shows up.

If that sounds too “earthy” for you, there are more blogs out there. But I’d love to have you hang around anyway. You might find that Jesus was far more earthy than we like to admit.

If that sounds like your kind of thing, then good. Grab your coffee (or whatever’s in that cup, depending on the hour), and let’s dig into what a full life of faith really looks like.

Because following Jesus was never meant to fit neatly in a church bulletin. It’s meant to invade everything from the gym to the garden to the glass in your hand.

So we’ll see you in a week or so with a little different focus and a better rhythm. Until then meet someone new. Share your name and one thing unique about yourself. Then see where the conversation goes. You might be surprised how who you are actually is interesting to someone new.

Hey Thanks!

January 17, 2024 / / 1 Comment

A simple thought. An easy word really. But do we say it enough? Why is it so hard at times to say thanks?

Ok so it’s not that it’s hard to say, it’s that sometimes we forget to say it. At least that’s my biggest problem with today’s word. But did you know the more you say thanks, the harder it is to complain?

It’s a fact. You can’t be disgruntled about something and thankful at the same time. It’s like being blinded by light and in total darkness simultaneously. It just can’t happen!

Gratitude should probably be the word for today, but thanks is so much shorter of a word. A simple thank you can totally change someone’s day. And no I don’t just mean the person to whom you’re speaking either. I mean you. It can change your day.

Saying thank you over and over again for things will condition your brain to look for things for which you can be thankful. The more thankful you are the more you’ll say thank you and the more you’ll see things for which to be thankful. It’s like this crazy cycle of goodness!

Here’s a little secret as you try to implement this one in your life. You don’t always have to be overwhelmed with thanks to just say thank you. I’ve said thank you at times when I wasn’t really even sure that I was thankful. I did it because it felt like the right thing to do. I did it because I knew if I said thank you eventually my heart and head would catch up to my mouth. I don’t mean to be disingenuous by any means. But sometimes you have to say it out loud before you can feel it deep inside.

Today’s word comes with a challenge. What are some simple things that people do for you consistently that you could slow down long enough to thank them for today? Maybe it’s your spouse always making sure there’s food in the house – that should probably be one of mine. You know I can’t remember a time when I went to the pantry or the fridge and it was totally empty! And honestly I don’t know if I’ve ever said thanks to my wife for doing the whole people thing and going to the grocery. So here it is, in public for anyone who cares enough to read this, Thanks Dear for always making sure there’s food in the house!

Who will you thank today?

Change

January 10, 2024 / / 0 Comments

There are two kinds of people in the world, and the title of this post revealed both sides. When you think of changes to something about which you’re passionate, you either get super excited or fight it with all your might. Which are you?

Admittedly, there are some gradients here. Some are like I’m in! Let’s change it all! Others are willing to change even though they know it will hurt. Still others who are not resistant to change will tiptoe into it knowing it needs to happen but not be super excited about it.

What I think everyone needs to understand is that change is essential and it is everywhere. Change doesn’t really care of you want to do it or not. Change doesn’t mind if you hate it or love it. Change is just change.

We change our clothes everyday, some of us more than once a day. The seasons change, unless you live in Ohio and it’s pretty much always gray and gloomy this time of year. Trees change from bare in the winter to buds in spring to leaves in summer. Grass changes from lush and green in the spring to dormant in the summer to back to dormant again in the winter months again.

Change is everywhere!

Watching changes happen from one season to another or changing your clothes are super easy. But what about when, after you get married, your new spouse changes the way the budget has always been worked? Or what happens when she makes chili in a different way than your mom used to make it? Or what about someone proposing a change in how your church does worship? (you know the whole hymnal vs band debate that seems to be never ending)

The point is some changes are easier to manage than others. While change doesn’t always have to be bad but it is always disruptive to comfort. And therein lies the problem. We love our comforts in life. We love to have our set routines. And when someone disrupts our routine, all hell breaks loose. We don’t want anyone to mess with the way it’s always been done!

Change can sometimes feel like that whole ice bucket challenge that was social media popular. Except it’s like someone doing that to you when you’re enjoying a nice steaming hot shower. It is awful! It shocks the system because it takes you out of your comfort zone.

Since this week’s word is change, consider how you handle change. Consider what types of changes are hardest for you to manage.

The Church And The Monkey Trap

August 10, 2023 / / 1 Comment

Have you ever seen a video of a monkey trap? I was going to put a video on here but some of you might be offended by the content so I’ll just describe it to you. You’re welcome to go search for a video online, they’re pretty easy to find.

The idea is simple. The monkey gets trapped because it sees something it wants and won’t let go. Therefore trapping its hand in a jar. Historically there are cultures that have trapped monkeys in the wild. They would take a jar or a coconut and put a hole in it large enough for the monkey to put its hand inside. Inside the jar is something the monkey wants, often rice or another food substance they just simply can’t ignore.

The monkey puts his hand into the coconut and grasps the rice only to realize that he can’t get his hand out again. Mind you, the hole did not change size. The opening is the same size it was when the monkey put his hand in. The only difference is, now the monkey’s hand is closed around the rice. The hole is just large enough for the open hand to enter but too small for the closed fist to pull out.

I really think this is what we’re seeing in the institutional, denominational churches in North America. We are the monkey in the story. We live our lives and things are going well. As we look around, we see the values of society and culture shifting around us. Sometimes shifting faster than we can even define.

Add to the scenario that we see our numbers shrinking as churches are closing, pastors retiring, men not going into the ministry – it’s a situation that causes great fear and anxiety for some people. Enter church as monkey.

If we were to define the parts of this analogy to meet our current situation, we’d see the church is represented by the monkey. The rice inside is the way we’ve always done it. Really it’s anything that has become something we just can’t loosen our grip on (aside from the proper teaching of the Bible – really that’s the only non negotiable in the mix). And the jar is the culture war surrounding the church, the crisis of leadership in the church at large.

The church has its hand in the jar because that’s where we live. We have our churches embedded in communities and neighborhoods. Our hand is in the jar. It’s hidden in that jar and somewhat safe inside there. But we’re not called to hide in that place. We are to stand out and live differently, but how do we do that when culture shifts so fast?

When we feel threatened by the cultural shift around us, we clench our fist. In this case, we grasp whatever is known and comfortable. These things are actually, in and of themselves good and historically proven. For the church body to which I belong, that thing we are grasping is historicity, traditionalism, and structure. These are the rice in the coconut that we don’t know what to do with so we just cling to it more tightly.

The problem is the church is supposed to love God and love our neighbors, but we are not able to love our neighbor if our hand is stuck in the jar. The longer we hold so tightly to the things we have in the jar, the farther away from serving the culture we move. Now before you get all honked off here don’t hear what’s not being said. I’m not saying throw out the tradition and history. That’s absurd and will actually do more harm than good!

Know when the structures of the past will work and when they won’t. Understand that structures in the life of the church can’t be a one size fits all kind of deal. Every congregation is unique in its expression of faith because every community that it serves is unique. Forcing an historic structure, no matter how good and worthwhile in its day, to a thriving modern environment at best won’t always work. And at worst will hinder the expansion of the gospel in that context.

The solution? Let go a little.

If the monkey would loosen the grip on the rice, it would be able to get its hand out of the jar. When it releases the rice, it’s still a monkey. Letting go did not change the fact that it was a monkey. It just allowed that monkey to be free. Likewise if the church would loosen its grip on some of the things to which it clings, we could be released to do more ministry in our individual contexts. It won’t stop us from being the church anymore than releasing the rice changed the monkey from being a monkey. It won’t change us from being Lutheran either. It will simply make the church more able to pivot to meet the needs of the people in and outside of the church.

Look I get it. There’s comfort in the known things. There’s something cool about the liturgy and the formal structures of things. But to say that it’s the only way it can be done is bordering on being a pharisee, you know the very people that Jesus told were white washed tombs! I surely don’t want to be considered a pretty coffin – fancy on the outside and dead on the inside.

The church is a people gathered and on mission to make disciples. How, where, when we gather are not really things the Bible addresses. More than anything I want the message of the gospel to be spread to the ends of the earth. I want to see my friends and neighbors come to know and believe in Jesus. I believe that Jesus is the only way to heaven, but I also believe that this one structure of how we do church life isn’t the only way to Jesus. It’s good and meaningful but it isn’t the only way. If we loosen up a little while clinging tightly to the truths of the Bible, we just might see the gates of hell start to fall like Jesus promises to Peter.

In short monkeys, it’s time to let go of the rice so we can get our hand out of the jar.

Changing Times

August 1, 2023 / / 0 Comments

The times we’re living right now are times many of us never thought we’d see. The speed of cultural shift is so drastic it’s almost dizzying! Look at how fast things have morphed in the past 3-5 years. Some blame the pandemic others blow the thing off like it never happened. I think a better assessment is that it happened, whether we like it or not, and that it accelerated our lives to a speed many of us are not comfortable with. It’s even been said that our society jumped forward about 10 years in the span of 2 years time.

Changing times are terrifying. We don’t like change often because we can’t control it. Something being out of control is not fun. I’m often branded a control freak. But that’s not totally accurate. I tend to embrace change pretty easily and change is out of control. I would say I have a need to be informed about what’s happening so I can be prepared to address challenges that arise. That’s not control it’s desiring information.

Recently the national version of the church body to which I belong made some pretty bold moves. And not bold in a good way necessarily. Honestly I think they’re bold in a way that shows some lack of faith and a bit of cowardice.

I know this is going to probably push someone’s buttons. While that is not the intent, if it does get people having a dialogue instead of unilaterally legislating how we handle change in the world then so be it. I’ll push away!

There are two matters that have really stood out to me as I’ve participated virtually in this conference: as a church body we really have a trust issue and control is pretty important.

There are a couple topics that make this super evident to me. One of which is the desire to focus on one method for raising up pastors in the church body. While I admittedly did not hear anyone say that only pastors going through a residential seminary training process are real and everyone else is fake or lesser, that sure seems to be the tenor of the conversation. I am willing to be wrong here.

The matter from my perspective is one of control. While I do believe it is important that anyone who is rightly called as a pastor within this church body know what we believe, teach and confess. And while I also know that it is important to have diligent study of the Bible and our confessional structure, I also believe wholeheartedly that there is more than one way to get that same result.

Just like I was able to participate in the conference virtually and virtual education methods are numerous and getting more user friendly, having a strong virtual element to the raising up of pastors would be fantastic. I have men in the congregation I serve who would make phenomenal pastors but they just can’t uproot their families or quit their jobs. So alas that’s one less pastoral candidate our church body has in circulation.

The unwillingness to release a little control over the structure of how things are taught (not what is taught but how and where) is really disheartening. I honestly am shocked when I see how the apostles led the churches in the book of Acts. They were uneducated men. They didn’t uproot their families to go off to an institution for a 4 year stint to learn something. They were able to learn while they lived their daily lives.

Are there some trade offs? Yes there are but doing the same thing the same way will not yield a higher result. It just won’t work that way. We should still cherish the traditional route to ministry that has served us well for many years! But releasing a little control back to the parish pastors and working alongside them to raise up and train men for works of ministry sounds kind of Book of Acts to me. Keep high standards. Work on curriculum or teaching points/methods. But leave the how and where to the local guys with regular checkins from the structures that already exist.

But then there’s the whole trust issue. Do we trust that the men in the field are going to steward their gifts properly? I think this is a huge struggle as well. I mean most of them were trained in the residential program that is being held up as the only way to do it. And yet we don’t seem to trust them to be able to teach other men to do the same job? Seems to show a lack of trust in our own teaching! One of the signs of a great teaching is that the student is able to teach the material to someone else.

Look I get it. None of this is going to be easy. But it doesn’t have to be impossible either. The tighter we hold to this method as the only method, the more we’re going to lose. But why is it so hard for us to let go a little?

Change is hard because it leaves things out of control for a period of time. I’m not one of those change everything just because we can kind of guys but we need to know what can change and what can’t change. Changing nothing is not an option. It just isn’t possible. If we can manage change well, we can better manage the chaos that’s so often associated with change.

I think a long and hard conversation needs to be had about where God wants his church to go. Not where we want it to stay. It’s time to make some bold moves for the sake of the kingdom. Repent where we’ve made mistakes. But keep moving and advancing the kingdom. It’s only then that we will see how weak hell’s gates truly are (as long as we’re sitting here those gates hold up pretty darn well).

The times are changing and while the message can’t change – the methods are going to have to change.

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