"Church Growth"

Dr. George R. Sinclair, Jr.
Pastor

September 9, 2007

  

             My father was in the insurance business. Once when I was home for vacation, not long after I had taken my first job as a pastor, I was complaining about how the church had an image problem, and my father said, “Every business has image problems. What’s the first thing you think when you hear the word insurance?”

             And I, being an ever-so-insightful 25-year old, guessed, “The fine print?”

And he said, “You’re right. Everybody thinks we’re out to cheat them by not paying their claims. You think you have image problems, try selling insurance.”

Sure enough, I checked out the “employment practices liability” section of our church insurance policy and under “terms and conditions” I found this fine print,

· Flat Charge (Non-adjustable).

· Deductible is per claim and applies only to legal and loss adjustment costs.

· All legal and loss adjustment costs are within the policy limits.

· Punitive Damages included where allowable by law.

· 36 Month extended reporting is available at 150% of the expiring premium.

$100,000 Sub-limit of Liability shall apply to Fair Labor Standards Act and all other wage and overtime claims.

I think I’ll stick to church image problems, though I must say the fine print of Jesus’ contract is not without image problems of its own.

 

Really, when you think about it, Jesus had a good thing going.  Lots of people were showing up.  Luke says “large crowds were traveling” with Jesus.  Every preacher likes a crowd, the bigger the better.  But then Jesus was no ordinary preacher, so he turns to the big crowd traveling with him and reads them the fine print, “Do you know what you’re getting into? You can’t follow me if you don’t hate your family, not just your father and mother, but your brothers and sisters, your wife and your children, yes even life itself.”  And as if that wasn’t enough Jesus spoiled all fun by adding, “Oh, and while you’re detaching yourself from your family also give up everything you own and carry the cross.”

I don’t think Jesus had a clue about church growth.  We’ve been talking a great deal here lately about church growth.  We even made church growth the theme for this Rally Day Sunday—Grow the Church. We’ve given you some seeds to plant to keep you thinking about church growth from now until Easter.  We want you to be “church growth minded.”  And we’re going to talk even more about church growth when we conduct our fall stewardship campaign. And I will tell you now what you already know; we’re going to ask you to give more money so we can grow the church. 

Church growth is very much on our minds.  I don’t think Jesus had a clue about church growth.  It looks to me like he was trying to run folks off—“You can’t be my disciple if you don’t hate your family.”  What kind of message is that? What kind of signal does that send potential new members? Didn’t Jesus understand that churches must be family friendly? 

The word can’t sticks out like a sore thumb in this passage.  “You can’t be with me if you don’t hate your family. You can’t follow me if you don’t carry the cross. You can’t be my disciple unless you give up everything.”  What was Jesus thinking?  Seems to me he ought to have said, “Look, here’s what you can do to follow me. It’s easy—one, two, three.”

But no, he’s got all these qualifiers in the contract, a lot of fine print that clearly seems ill-considered.  Didn’t Jesus assume that everyone was already “sort of” a Christian?  You know, everybody’s basically good.  When it comes right down to it, don’t we all pretty much believe “God is great and God is good, let us thank him for our food; for by his hand we all are fed; give us, Lord, our daily bread”? Everyone pretty much believes that, don’t they? 

I mean, really, is it all that far of a stretch from Government Street to the Sanctuary?  We don’t want to make that leap too great; after all we want to be like those churches we read about that are really growing.  They’re growing so fast they have to beat people away with a stick.  And if we’re going to be like them then we better get busy with a really good ad campaign and a really great program designed to meet all of your family’s needs.  After all, isn’t that what Christianity is about—meeting my needs, making me feel better about myself and assuring me that even when I get sick and die I’m going to go to heaven and everything’s going to be all right in the sweet bye and bye?  Jesus has punched my ticket and I’m traveling the road to glory. 

 

I think Jesus missed a huge opportunity to grow the church when he “turned.”  That’s what Luke says.  Luke says Jesus “turned” to the crowd following him. And that turning stops the crowd cold in its tracks.  Can you feel it?  I mean, there’s real excitement.  There’s amusement. There’s, well, what would you call it—momentum?  Large crowds are traveling with Jesus and he turns to them.  They’ve been looking at his back. And now he’s turned and they’re staring him straight in the face. 

I wonder what look was on his face that day.  Was he smiling?  Was he weary?  Was he angry? Was he chagrined because deep down, deep down he knew they’d all be gone come Friday?   What look was in his eyes that day—“Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, even life itself cannot be my disciple.”

I want to say, “Jesus, you can’t be serious.  I mean, really, isn’t that a bit much? What can be more important than family? My family’s the single most important thing in my life. And my life—do you really expect me to hate my life?  I thought I was supposed to love my life and feel good about it?”

I don’t think Jesus has a clue about church growth.  He’s off message.  Coming to Jesus is supposed to improve life. You know, Jesus absolves our guilt, tell us we’re okay; pats us on the head and helps us see that deep down we are good people. But no, he tells us to give up everything and carry a cross. 

 I wish Jesus hadn’t said that, but he did.  And it sounds as if he wants us to think about it before signing on. It sounds like Jesus wants us to read the fine print.  Cross bearing apparently is not spontaneous. It is not instantaneous. Cross bearing is intentional. It is voluntary. That’s the only way God will have it and therefore cross bearing is something we had better think about for a very long time before we take it on.

 

Jesus compared cross bearing to a guy building a tower, which when you think about it is not an especially prosaic or spiritual metaphor. “If you want to follow me,” Jesus says, “first sit down and think like Lou here who’s about to build a tower.”  And we see Lou pouring over a thick stack of blueprints and cost estimates.  “I don’t know; this looks pretty complicated.  I’m not sure I should jump into this thing.”

Finishing seems to be really important to Jesus.  I think about those other parables Jesus told. You know the one about the seeds growing and they sprout and then the sun comes up and they wither.  Makes me think cross bearing is not for the faint hearted, that cross bearing is not something you jump into like answering an altar call at a crusade and then going on about your business.  Cross bearing sounds like something Jesus expects us to pursue for the rest of our lives. And that’s a very long time to carry a cross.

Jesus also compared cross bearing to a general, or rather a king, sending his army into battle. Again, Jesus is not very prosaic or spiritual about his choice of metaphors.  Who would have thought he’d compare cross bearing to war strategy or politics.  “If you know you’re going to get licked,” he says, “ask for terms.” Or at least that’s what he said that day to the very big crowd traveling with him, “Think about what you’re getting into it. Are you sure you want to follow me?”

I hope you’ll forgive this sports metaphor because I know when I use it I’m going leave half of you out, but it comes to mind.  Listening to Jesus reminds me a lot of two-a-days.  I know some of you went through two-a-days.  I always hated two-a-days.  And I’m not really sure hate is a strong enough word. I despised two-a-days.  They were an exercise in hell primarily designed I am convinced to weed out the wannabees. 

Our high school, and you have to remember this was nearly 40 years ago when they thought that too much water was bad for you so they salted our Kool Aid, our high school was separated between the 10th grade and the 11th and 12th grades.  Tenth graders played JV football, juniors and seniors Varsity.  You could always count on a big turn out for Junior Varsity. I mean everybody suited up that first day for JV’s.  I think half of the 10th grade class turned out. 

Anyway, most guys made it through that first day. But each day a few more dropped out so that after two weeks of two-a-days we were down to 25 guys.  I guess we must have started with 75 or more. I don’t know, it’s been a long time and my memory tends toward exaggeration.  All I can say is that by the end of two-a-days coach found out who wanted to play and who didn’t.

You see, and I have to be careful with what I’m about to say, because I don’t believe Jesus is into exclusivity as if to say only a few real he-men or a few real she-women make it to the finals, but I do think Jesus is saying that the life he calls us to is not first and foremost about us—it’s not about us.  Following Jesus is about what happens in the world and to the world when the world meets up with our love.  Following Jesus is about loving the world the way Jesus loved the world and that is no easy calling. 

Jesus loved the world enough to die for it which means he loved life, not just the life of others but his own life.  You can’t live the way Jesus lived without loving life.  Jesus was not anti-world or anti-worldly.  Jesus loved the world and loved his own life but he possessed a passion or was possessed by a passion that always pushed him beyond what was in his own best interest. 

Jesus was other-directed not in the sense that he wanted to please people, but in the best sense of loving others the way God loves. And when you love that way you can’t help but forget yourself.  You can’t help but get out of the way.

  The greatest obstacle we face to following Jesus is sitting right inside us. Once we get over ourselves, once we recover from self-preoccupation we actually have a chance of turning out to be the kind of human being God had in mind when he spun us off his potter’s wheel, which is the whole reason Jesus turns so very sharply to us and says, “If you want to follow me give up everything.”

I don’t think Jesus had a clue about church growth, but I think he knew most everything a person needs to know about being human.  And if we all become the kind of human beings he had in mind, the church will grow as God wants it to grow.  “If you want to follow me, give up everything.” It’s not a message that sells, but according to Jesus it is the one that saves. Amen.