In recent years there’s been much discussion about the nation’s supply chain and the frightening flaws in the system which were exposed by the Covid lockdowns.
Empty grocery shelves get your attention pretty quickly, and it was with those in mind that the idea of building an antifragile supply chain gained steam. If a huge portion of our food comes from one warehouse or processing plant, we’re one failure away from crisis.
More importantly, by outsourcing production in mass, we’ve forgotten how to produce anything ourselves. Should one or two of those outlets go down, not only would it take months before we could produce any of our own food—most might not have the knowledge or ability to do so even if they wanted. And if we can’t produce our own food locally, that’s an awfully fragile supply chain.
It’s hard to say this wasn’t an enormous blunder. The rising homesteader movement aims to address the mistake, but it’s going to take years and years of millions more people hopping on board before that even begins to become a solution.
Wait a minute—I though this was supposed to be an article about church leadership.
Hold on, we’re getting there.
See, nobody denies there’s a church leadership crisis. Pulpits are getting harder and harder to stock. Having talked to a couple of congregations who are mired in drawn-out preacher searches, anecdotal evidence backs up the reporting.
Even more concerning, elderless congregations are becoming the norm. And not only do many of them not have elders—perhaps most of those don’t have potential elders coming through the pipeline in the foreseeable future.
Getting back to the supply chain idea, I have to ask: is it possible we accidentally did this to ourselves?
How so, you might ask? Well…
Could there be a connection between the rise of professional ministry training schools and the shortage of preachers and elders?
Have we created a fragile supply chain of church leadership by outsourcing leadership training?
I’m going to say right up front that I’m a preaching school graduate and I’m incredibly grateful for the education I received. I’m just making the case that the current default process for producing church leadership might not be the optimal system. In fact, it may be a highly fragile system, one which needs to be replaced with an antifragile, homestead-style approach to developing church leaders.
A few changes which might result from training our men locally:
A greatly improved approach to handling our youth
Instead of seeing our teenagers as the people to whom we will hand the steering wheel in a few decades, we see them as our responsibility until they turn 18. If we can steer them toward camps, rallies, and eventually a good Christian college to up their chances of staying faithful, we’ve done our job. The more spiritually interested get pushed toward preaching schools or a college with a good Bible major program.
For most, the best case scenario is that they end up as solid servants in some other town’s congregation. And, in like manner, we just hope somebody else’s youth grows up, moves to our town, and stocks our leadership pipeline.
What if we started looking at our young people as the ones to whom we are going to hand the keys to the congregation in 30-40 years? Would that change the kind of investment we put into them in their youth, the kind of expectations we place on them, the path to involvement we give them?
Ministry by meritocracy
This will sound harsh, but anyone who’s been in a school of preaching knows exactly what I’m saying—in many cases, we aren’t getting Jeremiahs with a “fire in their bones,” we’re getting 18-20somethings with no other plan in life, to whom a free (or inexpensive) education is a good fallback option. Ministers are chosen because the piece of paper they’ve obtained and their ability to present well for a weekend tryout rather than being selected on the basis of demonstrated character.
If our future leadership were chosen by mentorship on the home front, it would inevitably be more of a meritocracy. Nobody is putting the aimless 24-year-old in the pulpit and handing him the keys to the congregation’s hearts and minds. But that’s what happens fairly regularly in our current fragile system. I know because I was that guy.
Shepherds who know their sheep
The current system places guys from California in Alabama and guys from Ohio in Arizona for 4-7 years and we’re surprised our churches struggle to grow numerically or in closeness with one another. Jesus said a prophet is not without honor except in His hometown, and that’s often true. But we’re not talking about prophets—just competent people. Until the last 50-70 years it’s been human nature for one generation to raise up their successors to take over the local businesses, schools, and churches.
The death of the horrendous preacher tryout system
Since I mentioned it, I don’t believe anybody likes our current system for matching preachers with churches. Denominations with their networking and hierarchical oversight might do it differently, but in the churches of Christ a congregation will typically post a job opening and field résumés from interested candidates, sift through those based on education, experience, and a general “feel,” invite a few guys out for Sunday preaching tryouts, and then pick the one they thought was best.
Having done it twice, it’s all very weird. Those people didn’t know me, and I didn’t know them. Thankfully, in my case it worked out both times and I served with wonderful people. Speaking for congregations and ministers I know, not everyone has such pleasant experiences.
Circumventing the lectureship ladder
I’m not going to spill a lot of ink over this one because it just is what it is. The elbow-rubbing, back-slapping network of inviting and being invited, or staying at a congregation until the offer from a bigger, better job opens up has become part of the system. I am not accusing every minister (or even the majority) of playing the game, but it’s undeniably a feature of the landscape.
Home-grown young men with an obligation to the local membership, who want to uphold the congregation they inherited from their parents and grandparents and will hand to their children and grandchildren, are much better suited to service. Humans are humans, so the mercenary spirit would likely still be an issue in some cases. But on the whole, I think the framework would be much stronger.
We’d relearn how to produce our own leaders
When, for convenience sake, we stopped even trying to grow or kill our own food, we also slowly forgot how. In the same way, by deferring to the experts we’ve almost fully lost the ability to train leaders locally. Taking our crutch away would force us to learn how to do it again, even if it proves difficult at first.
Can the local congregation provide the kind of education our schools can? No (though with the internet this has become so much easier). Similarly, I can’t grow the volume of fruits and vegetables Walmart does, either—but I know I can count on my supply in a crunch.
What does this look like practically?
As localism and valuing one’s roots are having a resurgence in our culture, the church can fully take advantage of this. Encourage your young men and women to stay near home for their education or apprenticeship, and to plan on being part of the congregation’s future.
Find ways to bring education and training to them rather than send them away for it, and build a pipeline within your own congregation. Today’s leaders must take it as their mandate to make disciples and train up their replacements. But don’t be in a hurry to lay hands on anyone too quickly—Lord willing, they have time to grow into their roles.
Paint the picture of how beautiful it would be to start families, raise their children in the same pews they themselves grew up in, and to grow in age and wisdom to the point where they can take responsibility for keeping up the congregation they love.
Start building an antifragile supply chain of church leadership now, and reap the benefits for generations.
Related: my article making the case for moving away from full-time ministers
Aaron Renn, one of my favorite cultural commentators, wrote on a similar issue last week.
Excellent in my eyes! Love the ending, we raised our daughters in the congregation I grew up in. (I am 79.) None of us are there now but some are still there and one daughter has great love as I do for them and the ones in our memories. It’s so good to be with a congregation for many years, the love is enduring and the “roots” have great meaning. You are an excellent writer, you express yourself so well. Thanks for your ministry of writing!
My church went through a bad patch of theology that took years to excise and heal from. We lost 70% of our congregation. Just as we started to increase, COVID hit and we lost ground again. In my opinion, the double whammy wiped out a generation of our future leaders. Men and women weren't there to go through the spiritual maturation process.
Been telling the rest of the deacons that we need to fix this before we end up leading into our 80s. But it is SO hard getting the under-50 crowd to do more than just attend every other week. I see a couple of future leaders in the 15-20 year-old group, so I guess we'd better get started. This article helps.