Selling Vacuum Cleaners, Part 1

The church has a problem. It’s not what you may think. No, I’m not talking about tumbling attendance rates, financial shortfalls, music wars or the staggering number of our adult children walking away from Christ. The real problem, according to many, is that these pastors are just so darn disorganized.

 “What we need,” say some, “is to look at the church like a business. Of course the church isn’t a business,” they’ll mutter under their breath, “but pastors could learn a thing or two from business people.” And it’s true. Business professionals are trained to develop systems that run efficiently and effectively. What church couldn’t benefit from a little more efficiency and effectiveness? Enter the era of the businessman-pastor.

I’ve visited a number of churches that seem to prefer business skills above preaching skills, spiritual disciplines and even theological training. Here’s the problem. Business people have two primary concerns: (1) develop a customer base; and (2) keep the customer base happy. Now developing a customer base should fit in nicely with the church’s mission. After all, if a church is doing its job (making disciples), then the church should grow (increased customer base).  But is the reverse also true? Does church growth mean the church is doing its job?

I could line my cabinets with the church advertisements I receive in the mail. What I find disturbing is the marketing strategy, “Every other church is boring, money-grubbing and unfriendly so come to ours. We’re different. We’re better.” That’s business for you-destroy the competition. Hmmm. Are we helping our cause?

Trouble is, the strategy works. Those dissatisfied with their current churches come seeking greener pastures. Our customer base increases with much greater speed than when we focus our energy on making disciples out of pagans. As one pastor said, “To ask a businessman to strategize in the area of evangelism is like asking him, ‘how do you sell vacuum cleaners to people with dirt floors?’.”

His answer is usually, “You don’t.” His goal is to find people with rugs. When translated to the Christian subculture, “churched” people have rugs, making them a softer market to sell our church.

As the customer base grows, it’s important to keep the customers happy. The businessman pastor must focus his efforts on internal ministries, services and of course the aesthetic preferences of his parishioners. He leads a church of religious consumers.

Most Christians would agree religious consumerism is not the goal. And yet, here we are. Religious consumers are as common as Costco members. Is the solution to keep business people out of ministry decisions? I hope not. As a business woman, I’d like to think I can contribute to my church. So how do business people support the church’s mission? THAT is the subject of my next post.

The Quiet Voice of God

I plopped down at my desk. Staring back at me was the Bible I hadn’t cracked in several days. Next to it was yesterday’s “to do” list with less than half the tasks crossed off. Lingering in the background was a darkened computer screen loaded with fresh emails which, with the faintest touch of the mouse, would steal the spotlight from the gold-edged pages waiting for today’s verdict. What a poignant picture of my life right now, I thought.

“Read your Bible first,” the Spirit inside me whispered.

“But I have so much to do,” my flesh argued back. The knot in my stomach twisted and tightened as I pondered this week's demands. “If I can just get through my list, then I’ll have time to focus on my Bible reading and give God the attention he deserves,” I reasoned, knowing full well how that strategy had panned out yesterday.

The gentle whisper answered back, “In whom are you depending?”

Guilty. My reluctance to open God’s Word betrayed my distorted view of God and myself, for that matter. Today, I saw no power in Scripture, just a duty to read it. Through the years, I’ve learned to follow that sense of duty when it’s all I can muster.

I opened to 2 Samuel. “Drat, I lost the flow by skipping several days,” the excuses started to flow. “Was Abishai a priest or Joab’s brother? Now I have to look up all the names again.” In time, the frustration dissipated and God began to speak to me through his Word. In today’s passage, revenge’s stench was strong, but mercy’s beauty proved more powerful. My heart and mind were transported from the broken freezer and the Open House guest list to the company of my Creator, who knows my daily anxieties but wants to offer me more than a rescue. He wants to elevate my heart, soul and mind to a place where my daily worries are small when compared to the greatness of the Father who loves me.

Aimless and Ashamed

Other people’s priorities can cloud my judgment, thwarting my ability to make decisions. If I stay at home with my son, but can’t afford piano lessons or little league, I’m denying him opportunities. If I focus on maintaining my home, I lack the time to volunteer at school. If volunteer activities consume my day, I’m folding laundry instead of helping my daughter with homework. If I go back to work, I’m shirking my parental duties. And so the circle of guilt continues. No matter what I choose, shame lurks over me like a dark cloud refusing to rain.

I’m shackled by the weight of everyone’s disappointment in me. To make matters worse, most people have reasonable expectations and are understandably perplexed at my inability to deliver. Yet once amassed, these expectations, no longer reasonable, conspire to bury me.

The shame is unbearable. So I scatter snippets of myself; just enough to lower raised eyebrows and mollify my wounds. In the process, I lose sight of the person God called me to be. I’m like a puppy who bounces from person to person, with no direction or purpose other than to lap up a morsel of food or find the softie who’s sure to rub my tummy.

The Bible tells us we were created with purpose. For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. (Eph 2:10, NIV) If we know God created us with purpose, why does it wound so deeply when others tell us we’ve failed to meet their expectations? Shouldn’t it be enough to know God’s purpose and act accordingly?

Apparently, most of us don’t have the bulldog focus and determination of Winston Churchill. Take a stroll through your local Christian bookstore and you’ll see rows of books on managing time, determining priorities and setting boundaries. These resources help individuals learn to say no, a skill critical to stress reduction.

But then, there are those who don’t struggle at all with turning you down flat. And when you’ve had to compensate for people who refuse to help, you empathize with those who are drowning - you want to spare them the frustration you’ve felt. Your sympathetic side struggles to say no. Being counted among the “do nothings” who suck the life from every organization is more than you can stomach.

How do you care about others without becoming a rescuer? How do you discover a sense of purpose when so many needs compete for your energy? Those who are both compassionate and focused have learned to coexist with a nagging reality. They know they must identify the yes’s in their lives before they can allow themselves to say no.