A few years ago, I read a social media post in a pastors’ group written by the pastor of a small-town evangelical church that left a lasting impression on me.
One quiet weekday afternoon, the pastor arrived at the church to find a disheveled man wandering in the front yard. His body odor could be smelled from several feet away, and dirt was noticeably smudged all over his face and arms. He had clothes that were torn and soiled, and his shoes were so worn that his toes were peeking out. Despite the pastor’s attempts at conversation, the man remained silent, turning his head only when spoken to.
The man held a plastic shopping bag filled with pecans, obviously harvested from the copious pecan trees adorning the church yard. The pastor wrote that for years his own family had regularly picked pecans from the church yard and shared them with people they knew, and that it was also common for church members to drop by unannounced and gather pecans.
Worried that the man might return later or possibly solicit money from members, the pastor told him to leave the property, and made him empty his bag of pecans onto the ground. The man silently complied, and as he walked away, the pastor invited him to morning worship and tried to give him a business card with service times printed on the back.
I found myself deeply disturbed not only by the pastor’s actions but also by the overwhelmingly positive responses of other clergy in the group. To my surprise, every comment was supportive. Many exclaimed that the pastor was acting as a good steward with church resources, and several complimented him for protecting the safety of his faithful attendees.
More than a few comments emphasized how it was his personal responsibility as the pastor to manage the organization in such a way so that the church maintained a positive reputation in the community.
The worst part was that not a single pastor in the group even considered the needs of the man, who as described seemed to lack resources to take care of the most basic essentials. Instead, their sole concerns were institutional, and no one deigned to speculate how Jesus would have responded to meet the poor man’s needs.
I believe Jesus would have helped the man pick pecans without hesitation, and then offered to serve or assist him in some tangible way. What he would not have done was force the man off the property or invite him to some scheduled religious service.
Church “Business”
The pastor whose story I shared is not any different than almost every other church leader serving in institutional churches, because they are all tasked with having to choose between the needs and obligations of an institution and the call of Christ himself—and those are seldom the same thing.
Admittedly, it’s almost too easy to criticize the prevailing twentieth-century evangelical model of pastors leading churches as the de facto CEO of a faith-based non-profit. Churches stole the idea from the business world, down to a functioning board acting no differently than would shareholders, and each ministry in the church organized not unlike special business units.
Individual mainline and Catholic churches are also participants in this business structure; they are more or less locally-managed branch offices of a larger corporate entity, like ecclesiastical franchises.
Although it is tempting to venture into defining the role of clergy, a larger problem is obvious: why do churches even have business needs apart from the mission and ministry of the body of Christ?
As I wrote about a few weeks back, an average of about 80% of resources within institutional churches are spent perpetuating the institution rather than mission and ministry.
The largest portion typically pays salaries, and next in line are the costs of acquiring/maintaining facilities and other real estate. Those buildings use costly utilities, not to mention the considerable expense of insurance, and a plethora of other licensing fees and dues.
Meetings and conferences take up human resources—time not spent discipling others—not to mention everything else church institutions require from worship planning to cleaning toilets.
No matter who volunteers what, institutional needs like trash bags and microphones add up to a lot of money and time. Even the tiniest institutional churches still must fund all the essential needs and supplies of an office, like paper and pens.
This is simply the way institutional churches are organized in the 21st century. But I have never met a paper clip that makes Christlike disciples.
Whose Church Is It Anyway?
Jesus voiced radically different plans for the church than people building buildings, buying highlighters, and pastors serving as CEOs:
“And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.” (Matthew 16:18, NIV)
Many are quick to argue about Peter’s role and the hierarchal succession of apostles over the centuries, or even the meaning of “church” (Jesus spoke in Aramaic, and the actual word he used most literally means “community,” by the way), but what is often overlooked in this passage should be the most obvious thing.
Jesus said he would build his church.
Not only does it belong to him—not us—Jesus is who builds it.
Jesus was telling his disciples that the community would replace the temple as where God’s presence is evident. In no uncertain terms, he warned of the coming destruction of the Temple:
“Jesus left the temple and was walking away when his disciples came up to him to call his attention to its buildings. ‘Do you see all these things?’ he asked. ‘Truly I tell you, not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down.’” (Matthew 24:1-2, NIV)
Similar predictions can be found in the gospel of Mark 13:1-2 and in Luke 21:5-6. Additionally, in the midst of his Olivet Discourse depicted in the synoptic gospels, Jesus foretells of the temple’s desecration and destruction, and in both Matthew and Luke, Jesus is quoted lamenting how Jewish leaders in Jerusalem ignored his message.
Nonetheless, the Jews remained loyal to the temple and its rituals, and when Titus surrounded the city of Jerusalem in AD 70, as predicted, the temple was desecrated and then completely destroyed, along with Jerusalem itself.
Continually, Jesus communicated that buildings and institutional practices were insufficient and would eventually be destroyed, but that a community of disciples could be indestructible against even the “gates of Hades.”
So, if Jesus is building his church as a community of disciples, what role do we have instead of organizing institutions and erecting costly facilities?
Only Disciples Make Disciples
Jesus did give instructions concerning the role of his followers in his earthly kingdom:
“Then Jesus came to them and said, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.’” (Matthew 28:18-20, NIV)
That’s how it is supposed to work: He builds his church by his disciples making disciples.
This wasn’t a new instruction. Jesus had previously sent seventy-two and the twelve out in pairs, commissioned to tangibly change the lives of others, and empowered to share the same kingdom message he preached.
The New Testament represents the early church sharing Jesus’ vision for a church made of people, not buildings. Although early faith communities met regularly in homes or in open places, these early Christians shared their daily lives with one another, and didn’t have a scheduled recurring meeting time. Notably, even a minimal organizational attempt such as the council of Jerusalem had mixed results rife with dissent and disagreement per scriptural accounts.
In the centuries following the events described in the New Testament, dedicated church buildings, such as basilicas and cathedrals, began to be constructed even in those first communities where the gospel thrived relationally. Many of those great, beautiful church buildings no longer host Christian congregations, and Christianity is hardly represented at all in those historic locations.
Institutions fail. They fail to meet the needs of our neighbors we are called to love, they fail to use their resources to accomplish much more than pay salaries and maintain properties. Institutions usurp the time and talent of dedicated Christ followers, and most importantly, institutions fail to make Christlike disciples.
Only Christlike disciples make Christlike disciples. So why are we wasting our time doing it any other way?
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In