Equip: Change the method, not the message, Part 1

Frank (not his real name) joined our church as a child in the 1940s. He moved away as a young man. When he was almost 90 years old, he returned to live out his final days.

He had been away from our church for over 70 years, but he never transferred his membership. So, Frank thought he was returning home. He fully expected to see the childhood church he remembered so fondly. Instead, he found a church he could not recognize.

The room he knew as the sanctuary was now the youth room, which seemed to him a sacrilege. We no longer played an organ, but now, we had guitars, which were not his preference. He was confused we did not pass the offering plates, and he was offended we no longer wore suits and ties. It bothered him we did not always read from the King James Version of the Bible.

Much of what Frank experienced in our church felt wrong to him, not because he was stubborn, but because he was grieving. He felt sincere loyalty to a church he could no longer find and we could not provide.

Over those seven decades of Frank’s absence, much had changed. We have different schedules, buildings, clothing, music styles, communication tools, outreach methods, and a long list of other changes.

What never changed throughout that time was the gospel, our commitment to Scripture, our love for God and neighbor, sincere worship, or the mission of the church. Our message never changed, but our approach changed many times over the years. That distinction is vital to the health and longevity of the church.

Adapting to technology

Do you remember floppy disks? We used to store about 360 KB of data on 5.25-inch disks. Life got a little better when we upgraded to the sturdier 3.5-inch disks that could hold more like 1.44 MB. Then, CDs became the standard, followed quickly by DVDs. Eventually, USB flash drives took over. They not only stored more, but also saved a lot of time.

But technology kept moving. Today, my laptop doesn’t even have a traditional USB port. If I want to carry a file, I need a USB-C flash drive.

The purpose never changed. I still need to get my files from one place to another, but the method that worked perfectly well a few years ago cannot even be read by current technology.

Refusing to update the method can make perfectly good information inaccessible. That is because the message and the method are not the same thing.

We must develop the ministry priorities of Paul, who wrote: “I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, that I may share with them in its blessings” (1 Corinthians 9:22b–23 ESV).

While the truth of the gospel remained fixed, Paul’s methods of sharing it were flexible. We need to distinguish between them to ensure we love our message more than our method.

Method becomes tradition

The distinction between message and method can be difficult to maintain because of the way our practices become tradition without our notice.

We try something. It works well. So, we repeat it. We build structures and habits around it and begin to associate it with fruitful ministry. Eventually, we stop thinking of it as a way to do ministry and begin thinking of it as the right way to do it.

Because we always want to do what is right, changing the method can then feel like compromising faithfulness. Yesterday’s innovation can quietly become today’s tradition, and today’s tradition can eventually be mistaken for a biblical mandate.

Our challenge is to avoid falling into the trap of substituting traditional activity for meaningful ministry, even though that activity became tradition because it once worked so well.

An example: Visitation

In the late ’80s and early ’90s, when I got started in ministry, guest follow-up worked through visitation.

If a new person filled out a guest card during Sunday morning worship, we called them a “prospect” and assigned someone to knock on their front door sometime in the next few days. Usually, it was a cold call with no warning. That was just how it was done, and for a long time it worked.

Try that today and you’re liable to get your picture taken by a Ring doorbell and posted on the neighborhood Facebook page with a caption like, “Creepy person showed up at my door uninvited.”

Our love for guests hasn’t diminished, but our methods had to change. Our intention has stayed the same, but the cultural meaning of unscheduled visits changed over time. Today, we use a texting service to contact guests and express our care for them without bothering them at home.

Other examples

For years, we mailed a church newsletter every month. People expected it, read it, and kept up with what was happening. Today, most of that information is distributed through email. Instead of waiting days or weeks for information to arrive, we can communicate almost instantly.

We used to depend on a metal sign beside the highway access road to tell people where we were located. Today, a person considering coming to our church is far more likely to look for us online before ever driving onto our property. Our website has become part sign, part front door, and part information desk.

The list keeps growing every year. Livestreaming lets a homebound member worship with us in real time instead of missing church altogether. Text alerts do the job the phone tree used to do. Social media has become a front porch where people meet us before they ever meet us in person.

Podcasts and posted sermons let someone hear the gospel on a Tuesday commute instead of only on a Sunday morning. A QR code now enables people to register for the next big event, and an offering given from a phone reaches the same place as one dropped in a passed plate.

None of these tools are more sacred than a mimeographed bulletin was. None of those changes altered our theology. We did not change what we believe about the church, fellowship, communication, or ministry. We simply learned to use different tools to accomplish the same purposes.

We must adapt to last

If pastors and other church leaders are going to last long in the ministry, they must learn some hard lessons. One of the most difficult ones is, a structure or activity can be good, meaningful, and effective without being permanent.

We have to be able to adapt, even though adaptation requires sacrifice. It can be hard to let go of something we created, especially if it once flourished and is connected to memories of people we love.

I will say more about this next week.

John Crowder is the senior pastor of First Baptist Church in West. The views expressed in this resource article are those of the author.