Five writers compose open letters to pastors about how the Church needs to change.

[Editor’s note]: First things first: we love the Church. And we know that the majority of pastors and church leaders are hard-working, caring and loving shepherds for their communities.

But sometimes the culture gap between leadership and church community is wide enough—by no one’s fault—that it can become difficult to understand peoples’ needs. That’s why we went to five authors who love the Church, but who have also seen Her problems. We asked them to write to pastors and church leaders as church members about the things they face that they’ve seen neglected by leaders in the past. Their responses are difficult, impassioned and frank—but above all, are centered around a deep love for the Church and Her leaders. Weigh in in the comments section with your thoughts—we’d love to hear what you think about these challenges.

Does Church Commitment Trump Everything?

When I was a kid, my family was at church all the time. Sunday school and worship on Sunday mornings. On Sunday nights, a Southern Baptist boys’ group called Royal Ambassadors, plus another worship service. On Wednesdays, a community meal followed by children’s choir. Summer brought a whole new schedule of camps, events and weekly activities.

My almost-daily church involvement didn’t bother me then. In fact, I loved it. But as a dad, today? No way my family is spending all those hours at church every week.

Don’t get me wrong—we love our church. My wife works with the children’s ministry. I play on the worship team and fill the pulpit when the pastor’s away. We’re involved. But church is not the most important thing in our lives.
In 2009, a study by the Barna Group noted that, while weekend worship attendance at mainline church congregations remained stable, congregants were becoming disengaged with church life overall. Volunteerism at church was down by 22 percent. Adult Sunday school involvement had declined. The report described this as “the underlying problem of softer commitments.”

My wife and I maintain the same faith as we did growing up, but we’ll admit that our commitment to church activities has become “soft.” I can explain this in one word: family.

We have two elementary-aged kids at home, and we’re committed to making the most of our time together. We don’t let our kids join every sports league that comes along. Instead, we focus on one or two activities a year (and we play a lot of basketball and baseball in the front yard). We play Mario Kart or Settlers of Catan on the living room floor. We eat breakfast and dinner as a family. We read together before bed.

We try not to over-schedule our lives with stuff that pulls us in different directions—which means church activities, apart from worship services, aren’t always a priority.

Maybe the Barna Group sees this as a “problem of softer commitments,” but I’m not sure I do. The problem is how we define commitment.Doe Does it only apply to church-sanctioned activities?

For example, is it better for us to put our kids in childcare so we can attend a big church banquet with friends, or invite those same friends (and their kids) over for pizza on a Friday night? Either way we’re experiencing community with Christian friends. But the second option allows us to do it as a family.

What’s a better use of my time: coaching my second-grade son’s public school basketball team, or serving on yet another church committee? If I have to choose, I’ll commit to the one that lets me interact more with Owen, his friends and their families.

Which has more impact: my wife’s hour in the church nursery once a month during worship services, or her time on the PTA board at our kids’ school? Option two helps her get to know our kids’ teachers and other parents.
Some leaders might see these options and say, “Well, nothing’s keeping you from doing all those things.”

Wrong. We’re limiting ourselves on purpose. We pay attention when church leaders talk about the value of the Sabbath and the priority of rest. We’re pursuing a balanced, family-rich life while trying to invest our lives in the people around us, who aren’t always people at church. So that means saying no to church activities.

It’s not because we dislike our church. It’s because we believe the Kingdom of God is bigger than our church.

Pastors and ministers, what we’d love is for you to encourage us in this rather than making us feel guilty for not serving. attending or being active enough. I’m not sure the world needs church members who’ll get more involved in church activities.

I think it needs more Christians trying to lead balanced and generous lives both inside and outside the church.

Jason Boyett is the author of O Me of Little Faith (Zondervan) and other books. Find him online at jasonboyett.com and @jasonboyett.

Can We Trust Church Leaders?

Can I trust you? That’s the question many of us ponder on Sunday mornings as we listen to you talk about grace, mercy and forgiveness. Oh, we like you, of course; we like your charisma, and we think your ability to eloquently move from story to theology to life application is impressive, at times even convincing. But can we trust you? That’s what we don’t know.

Distrust of clergy isn’t a new problem. Ten years ago, a survey by George Barna found that churchgoers’ respect and appreciation for pastors had hit an all-time low. People’s trust in a pastor’s ability to understand and address their problems as well as lead them was in a 15-year downward spiral. Since then, other studies have confirmed that people are more likely to trust police officers and teachers than clergy. But these stats fail to answer the question of why we struggle to trust you.   

It is tempting to assume that we struggle to trust our church leaders because of the sex and financial scandals involving pastors and priests. But I suspect most of us have more personal reasons.   

At least, that’s why I struggle to trust people like you. I grew up in a church that believed a pastor was “God’s chosen,” a title that meant he or she deserved our respect, honor and, yes, trust. To challenge the pastor wasn’t simply viewed as an act against “God’s man”—it was an act against God. The pastors at my church often lied, manipulated, covered up sins and refused to admit wrongdoing, and I watched my parents wrestle with how to confront the pastors and with the belief that God protected His “chosen.”    

As an adult, I’ve befriended and trusted various pastors, and over and over again I’ve become discouraged, saddened and even dumbfounded by their actions. I started to assume the worst about all pastors

So yes, when I met Pete, my current pastor, I had baggage—lots of it. During my first months of visiting his church, I carried a truckload of pastoral baggage I’d been collecting since I was a child. My thoughts about Pete were somewhat bipolar: He seems nice, but I bet he treats his staff like crap. He seems genuine, but he’s probably got more secrets than a CIA agent. He seems to relate to what’s happening in my life, but he probably pulls in a six-figure salary and drives a BMW. He seems to be caring, non-pushy and hope-driven, but I bet he’s a right-wing conservative who rallies against health care, gay people and taking care of the environment.

You might be thinking, “It sounds like you’re the one with the problem.” And you’re right—my baggage is my problem. But if I come to your church and engage your community, will you make me (or someone like me) your problem?

Thankfully, Pete was. For the first time since my early 20s, I trust a pastor. He’s not perfect. But he knows that. And I can trust that.

Chances are, every Sunday morning, some people are sitting there asking themselves, “Can I trust you?”* Their reasons for asking the question might be different than mine, but I guarantee those reasons are rooted in stories that are painful, sensitive and difficult to articulate. Remember this: Just because they don’t trust you doesn’t make them bad people—it just means they’re hurt people. They’re people who have encountered a “you” who was arrogant or untrustworthy or an abuser. It might seem unfair that they distrust you, considering they don’t know you and you’ve done nothing wrong. But be humble toward them anyway. They’ve brought their stories and experiences and baggage into your church and sat down: be gracious, kind and help them unpack.

Matthew Paul Turner is the author of 10 books, including Churched: One Kid’s Journey Toward God Despite a Holy Mess (WaterBrook Press).

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