Well, apparently I did. Before we get to speech, I think we ought to talk about some spiritual micro-disciplines. I don’t mean prayer, fasting, solitude, Scripture reading, worship, or Sabbath. Those are huge practices worthy of times written by pensive intellectual giants who are much more disciplined than I am.

Instead I am interested in the quite small practices: those little moments that aren’t quite full on “disciplines” but are still worth paying attention to. These are the habits that might be called “micro-disciplines” that, while very small, can make a difference in life if we pay just a wee bit of attention to them.

The series on micro-disciplines so far…

1. The Discipline of Praying Without Asking

I remember when my kids were 2 year olds. They had so many questions. They were professional askers. How does the wind work? Can I have some goldfish crackers? Why do trains make that sound? Can we go to the toy store? Sometimes the questions came in forms of demands or refusals: I want a drink! I won’t go to bed! I don’t want to take a bath!

God must at times think I’m a bit like my 2 year olds. My prayers are full of asks: Help this person. Fix that problem. Give me wisdom. Please get me out of the mess I may or may not have created myself. When it comes to prayer, I’m a professional asker.

Or at times my prayers are almost uttered in the form of a demand or refusal: I want a raise! I won’t talk to that person! I don’t want to face that thing you convicted me about!

Of course, there is nothing wrong with asking. Jesus taught us to ask God for things. But every once in a while, I wonder what it would do to me to pray without requesting anything. Maybe I could just pay attention in prayer. A little giving thanks, a moment of confession, a bit of awe in the presence of my Creator. I could even sit there quietly for a while and do the whole Psalm 46:10 thing... “Be still, and know that I am God.”

The micro-discipline of praying without asking is one of leaving the lists behind and learning to listen. It’s about letting a one-way prayer turn into a true conversation.

2. The Discipline of Doing the Right Thing Regardless

I love to be inspired. Nothing quite like moving in the naturally effortless and total flow state of doing something I’m super-inspired to do and feel energized by. When I’m “feeling it” it can be downright easy to do what God told me to do: to obey him, to do the right thing because the Spirit is filling me up while i’m pouring something else out.

But of course I don’t exist in this flow state all the time. In reality, those moments are unscheduled and can’t be counted upon daily, or even weekly.

So we all need the discipline of doing the right thing regardless. One spiritual life trap is assuming our emotions will always cooperate with our convictions. Sometimes you just don’t feel inspired. Sometimes the Spirit seems occupied filing someone else up at the moment, and you’re feeling a bit empty while being poured out. We can easily think: if God really wants us to do something, surely we should feel more spiritual momentum about it?

That’s where this micro-discipline is needed. Sometimes I gotta pray when prayer feels dry, serve when nobody notices, or I don’t even feel like I’m doing a good job at it. I know for me, obeying the command to forgive almost always falls in this category; I’ve never forgiven someone when I wasn’t still a fair bit annoyed by them at minimum. Obedience means you get there first and the feelings catch up later, if ever. Faithfulness still counts. Even when i’m not in the flow state, I need to not “...become weary in doing good” (Galatians 6:9).

3. The Discipline of Letting God Defend You

This one sucks. Sorry... fair warning. Here goes:

Someone misunderstands your motives. A criticism feels unfair. Your part of the story isn’t being told. You get accused of something that isn’t truth. Your name and reputation gets dragged through the mud.

Of course it is perfectly fine to correct misinformation or answer an accusation. Silence is not automatically spiritual maturity. But I’m increasingly suspicious of my need to correct every mistaken impression about me

I have a tendency to want to take every opportunity to clarify, reply, explain, provide context, and make sure the right people know what really happened, usually with whatever spin might make me look good in the process. I don’t know if social media has conditioned this in me or if it’s just good ‘ol human nature (or should I say, “bad ‘ol human nature”?).

But then not long ago I came across Isaiah 50:8a while reading. “He who vindicates me is near” Isaiah 50:8a. That was a new one for me. I’m used to many of the other “names of God.” Yaweh Rapha (The Lord Who Heals) and Yaweh Raah (The Lord Is My Shepherd), and of course the most famous, Yaweh Yireh (The Lord Will Provide).

But this name is new to me. In this one, God defends me. This is Yaweh Tsadaq, The Lord Who Vindicates Me. And I love that he emphasizes my Lord is near while doing the vindicating. Because part of all those accusations, those untruths, the reputation loss, part of that is feeling a bit alone. But I’m not alone in that moment, and I don’t have to defend my reputation. God will vindicate me; he is near.

4. The Discipline of Not Finding the Application

Something happens and we start searching for the takeaway almost immediately. We want to know what God taught us, what it all means, or how we can use the experience later.

Of course those are all useful questions. We need to apply things and it can be essential to find ways to help others learn these truths too. But I just don’t know that everything needs to be converted into a lesson to learn right away. I am your consummate applicationalist: always looking for how something I read or learn can be applied, lived out, communicated, or shared.1

Perhaps there is a discipline in letting something just exist; to be beautiful just for the sake of being beautiful for a while. Maybe we need to learn what aesthetics means? Grief can hurt without immediately producing a theological insight. A vacation does not have to produce seven leadership principles. I can read a Psalm and just call it meaningful, without squeezing every single meaning for me out of it. Maybe the Psalm is just about God, and has nothing to do with me.

There may eventually be meaning there. Usually there is. But perhaps part of receiving an experience is resisting the urge to process it into useful content while we’re still living it. Some things need to happen to us before they become material for us or which are converted into next stseps.

Maybe the next time I encounter a scripture or experience something as spiritually meaningful I can follow the example of Mary and “treasure up all these things and ponder them in my heart” (Luke 2:19, paraphrased). She did that with the incarnation, of all things, I think I should be able to do it with my much more mundane spiritual experiences in life!

5. The Discipline of Surrendering the Need to Be Seen as Humble

One of the biggest problems I have with humility is that I never get credit for it.

Yes, that was a joke. But we should talk about a micro-discipline related to humility. You see, there are subtle ways we can almost reinforce our need to be seen as humble. We casually mention what we gave up. We make sure people know we didn’t take credit for something. Sometimes we even tell people about the sacrifice while explaining that we don’t need anyone to know about it.

If your brain is twisted into a knot on this one, just know, our emotions on the subject of humility can be that way. That’s why “false humility” is a thing. It all gets complicated fast.

The real freedom of it all is doing something good and allowing nobody to notice, making every effort to ensure it is secret. Not every act of generosity requires witnesses, and not every sacrifice needs an explanation. Sometimes the good thing can simply disappear into the world without becoming part of the story I tell about myself, or that anyone else tells about me. That’s why Jesus said “Your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you” (Matthew 6:4).

That’s a start with five spiritual micro-disciplines. When I look at these all together I notice how many involve releasing something I would rather keep my hands on: maybe it’s control, or credit, even certainty, comfort, or comparison. Releasing what I’d rather hang on to is a thread running through a lot of these micro-disciplines, including the relational micro-disciplines and discernment micro-disciplines we already covered.

Gonna have to think a little more on that.

You can leave a comment here:

Leave a comment

Make sure you’re subscribed, and upgrade your subscription for just 10 cents a day for some additional writings available to paid subscribers.

Subscribe now

The first list was mostly about relationships. But there are micro-disciplines for our minds too.

We live in a time when everybody is expected to have an opinion about everything. Those opinions are expected to be quick, public, strong and immutable. Personally, I don’t mind this all that much. It fits the way I was raised. We used to watch The McLaughlin Group on PBS as a family when I was a kid. I called it “The Arguing Show.” One of the ways our family engaged with each other was to argue about issues likewise, and we sometimes called our vacations “The Arguing Road Show.”

So I may be unusually well equipped for strong opinions about everything. I likely already have them. But over time I’ve learned that discernment requires some micro-disciplines that push me into the other direction. I’m working on many of these to improve.

Seven Discernment Micro-Disciplines

1. The Discipline of Reading Someone You Expect You’ll Disagree With

And I mean actually reading them. Like: directly. Not reading the person who wrote the brutal rebuttal or a clip of a critic explaining why they are wrong. Read the person themselves. It is best to encounter the strongest version of an argument you disagree with rather than the easiest one to dismiss.

I’m a pretty devoted listener of the podcast Advisory Opinions with Sarah Isgur and David French. This legal podcast focuses heavily on what Sarah has called “The Last Branch Standing,” the Supreme Court. I am not a lawyer, but I’ve learned a lot from their “steel man” approach to debate: trying to present the strongest version of the position they don’t hold.

I need to spend more time making a steel man rather than a straw man of those I disagree with. Of course that’s hard because we naturally prefer opponents who make bad arguments. But sometimes intellectual honesty means making space to let someone make their own case before deciding what you think of it.

2. The Discipline of Changing Your Mind Publicly

I actively and on purpose listened to the hair-metal band Warrant in the late ’80s. I even inadvisably saw them in person at a concert once. Then Nevermind and Ten dropped and I fully embraced the grunge era. I mostly kept quiet about my earlier musical choices.

So I’m here to announce that I changed my mind and admit it publicly.

You see, it is relatively easy to change your mind quietly. You just stop bringing the subject up. It is harder to say, “I used to think this, but I don’t anymore.”

We sometimes treat changing our minds as evidence that something went wrong. But surely learning something new, listening to wiser people, or simply realizing we were mistaken should occasionally result in a changed mind. Sometimes the evidence even arrives in the form of Eddie Vedder abandoning a surfboard or Kurt Cobain strapping on a Fender Mustang in a dank high school gym.

If none of my opinions ever change, I’m not sure that proves I have strong convictions; maybe I’m just really good at protecting old convictions? The micro-discipline is not changing your mind constantly. It is being willing to acknowledge when you already have.

3. The Discipline of Not Needing an Opinion Immediately

Something happens in the world and approximately eleven minutes later we are apparently all supposed to know exactly what it means.

I’ll admit it: I don’t. Sometimes I haven’t read enough or I don’t know the people involved. Maybe the first reports are incomplete, or the subject might be complicated. And I gotta be honest: sometimes I just haven’t thought about it very much yet. My first opinion is rarely my best opinion.

Try saying, “I’m not sure I can articulate a full reaction to that on short notice.” It might feel weird. But not every unsettled question in your mind is a problem requiring immediate resolution. Some things deserve a crock-pot level of thinking, not a quickie microwave reaction.

4. The Discipline of Confidence Over Certainty

There are things I know and things I strongly believe. Then there are things I think are probably true, or at least suspect are right. And then there are the guessing-game subjects. The big ol’ maybes.

Those categories should not all come out of my mouth with an equal amount of certainty. Words like probably, perhaps, I think, I suspect, and I may be wrong are not signs of weakness. Sometimes they are simply signals that we are trying to be accurate about what we actually know.

We don’t need to sound 100% certain when we are actually 71% certain. And, yes, I made up that percentage. I’m perhaps 87% sure of it, I think.

5. The Discipline of Allowing Complexity

We all love simplicity. It is easier to understand, easier to communicate, and easier to sell. But I’ve come to believe that the best simplicity comes on the other side of complexity.

Oliver Wendell Holmes put it this way: “For the simplicity on this side of complexity, I wouldn’t give you a fig. But for the simplicity on the other side of complexity, for that I would give you anything I have.”

So I find myself asking: Have I asked the truly complex question and tried to investigate it in all its facets?

If not, I probably still have some work to do before I start brainstorming catchphrases. Clarity may come later, but it will be a better kind of clarity because it has taken the complexity of the real question seriously.

6. The Discipline of Learning Quietly

This one may be particularly difficult in our current age. You read a great book or hear an interesting idea. You discover some fascinating historical fact or learn a Greek word.

And then you immediately begin thinking about where you can tell others about it. Can I post this? Teach this? Quote this? Work it into a talk? Turn it into an article? Make a podcast out of it?

Okay, those last few might just be me. But this micro-discipline is especially hard for those of us who write, teach, preach, lead, or communicate in our roles. Learning just becomes the act of gathering raw material to flip public as soon as possible.

But it’s also a temptation for anyone with a social media account. Perhaps some learning should simply become part of us. I can read something and never turn into an Instagram quote. I can study something I never tweet. I can learn something and not add it to my curriculum vitae.

7. The Discipline of Asking What Would Change Your Mind

This one starts with a mildly terrifying question: What evidence would cause me to reconsider? Because if the truthful answer is nothing, we should at least admit that.

Sometimes that may be appropriate. There are foundational convictions I am comfortable not reconsidering every lunch break that comes along. But plenty of our opinions and takes do not belong in that category.

If no evidence, experience, argument, expert, outcome, or new information could possibly change my position, I am probably no longer investigating whether something is true. I am defending territory rather than investigating truth.

Knowing what could change your mind is one way of discovering whether your mind is actually still open.

That’s my starter list of discernment micro-disciplines.

Just a reminder: none of these require a degree. You don’t have to be the smartest person in the room to practice them. In fact, being the smartest person in the room might in fact make some of them harder, because the quality they require most is humility.

Maybe we learn discernment this way too: not merely through the enormous ideas we encounter, but through a thousand tiny decisions about what we do with our minds when nobody is grading us.

I’ve got some micro-disciplines of speech in mind next. But perhaps I’ll change my mind. Not sure yet.

Oh, and that big thing in the news this week that you wanted me to comment on? I’m not sure I can articulate a full reaction to that on short notice. ;-)

What discernment micro-discipline would you add?

—

Please leave a comment. I’d especially love to hear a micro-discipline you’ve learned the hard way, or one on this list you think I’ve got wrong. I suppose, given the subject matter, I’m obligated to consider that possibility myself too!

Leave a comment

Share this to a friend.

Share

You can find my books on Amazon at this link and more at DavidDrury.com.

Drury on Amazon

DavidDrury.com

NTKC on YouTube

You can also subscribe to the podcast on your pod feed of choice, such as Apple, Spotify, and iHeart Radio.

This Episode’s Show Notes:

Happy end of summer! In this episode, Pastor Darren Scheske shares insights on authentic church community, the power of prayer, and how diversity enriches faith communities. We hope you’ll discover practical ways to foster genuine connections and spiritual growth in your church or neighborhood through this conversation.

Hosted By: David Drury

Produced By: Seth Strand and Lantern

Edited By: Seth Strand

Network Provided by: Lantern

Lantern is a ministry sponsored by Wesley Seminary. We empower faith-driven leaders, churches, and organizations to connect, grow, and serve through a trusted network rooted in Holiness values—shining as a light in the world.

Subscribe now

This one is just for the fine ladies and gentlemen who are paid subscribers. I’ll put the paywall right up front here so there’s no bait-and-switch, folks.

Read more

DruGroup Summary: Some spiritual disciplines are big practices we build into our lives. But what about those ridiculously small interactions in life where we need just a little discipline to not control every moment that comes along?

John Ortberg tells a story about a student challenging Dallas Willard during a class. The student’s comments were somehow both insulting and incorrect. But Willard didn’t react.

Later, someone asked him why he hadn’t corrected the student or offered a rebuttal. Willard replied: “I was practicing the discipline of not having to have the last word.”1

I’ve been thinking about that line, because if not having the last word can be a spiritual discipline, it seems to open up a whole category of other disciplines. Maybe we could call them micro-disciplines: small acts of restraint or courage that require a bit of attention and usually more than an ounce of humility.

1. The Discipline of Not Having the Last Word

This is Willard’s original. Let the conversation end without adding your final correction or defense. In some cases, this also means resisting the urge to summarize everything that was just said in the meeting as though you are the judge of the room. Sometimes the conversation is just over. You do not have to add one more thing.

2. The Discipline of Not Correcting Minor Details

Have you ever been in a conversation where someone was telling a story and the other person was also there, but they keep interrupting to correct relatively minor details?

“No, that was Tuesday.”

“It wasn’t $20. It was only $15.”

Yeah, you’re right, the couple is married. Seems like 90-99% of the time you see this it’s with married folk.

This discipline is similar to not having the last word. We must resist the urge to search for the small exception that allows us to present ourselves as technically superior to someone else. We can allow an insignificant error to pass when correcting it would serve our ego more than the truth.

3. The Discipline of Listening Without Preparing Your Reply

I once heard a song where the artist was describing his narcissistic ways. He sang, “I’m usually only waiting for you to stop talking so that I can.” This discipline is about not being that guy!

Give someone your full attention rather than quietly composing your counterpoint while they’re still talking. Sometimes your eyes even leave the conversation partner and seem to search up in the air for your next point as if you’re reading a teleprompter or something. Yeah: do not be THAT guy.

4. The Discipline of Conversation Not About Yourself

I had a friend in grad school in Boston who would mock his own, and others’, propensity to be self-centered by occasionally throwing this line into the conversation as a transition:

“Okay, now, speaking of me...”

My wife and I to this day still say that to each other to undercut our tendency to focus on ourselves. It’s crucial to stay curious about the other person rather than turning the conversation back toward ourselves.

5. The Discipline of Not Topping Their Story

Ever been around someone who cannot allow another person to share of an experience, trip, or celebration without sharing their own story that somehow remotely compares, in a vain attempt (in both meanings of the word “vain”) to top the other person? Irritating, right?

Sometimes we even do this with bad stories. Someone else has a bad experience, and we gotta share how we had an even worse one that one time. We must refuse the impulse to answer someone’s experience with a bigger, stranger, harder, more impressive, or even intentionally worse one. Sometimes their story can just be their story.

6. The Discipline of Letting the Joke Belong to Someone Else

Boy, those of us who love jokes have trouble with this one. I’m culprit #1 on this problem, I tell ya.

I hear the laughter and I can come up with a “tag joke” to add to the end of someone else’s laugh. It is so hard to choose not to amplify the laughter with my own rider. Of course, sometimes we have an even more pathetic temptation to sharpen someone else’s joke, repeat it louder, or explain that we had thought of something similar earlier. In any case: let someone else own the laughs for a minute!

7. The Discipline of Receiving a Compliment Without Deflecting

These are two sides of the same coin. On the one side, naming the people whose ideas, work, or encouragement contributed to something good you did is important. That can be done quickly where it’s appropriate.

Of course, when someone specifically compliments you and nobody else was involved, you can simply say thank you rather than denying it, joking it away, or returning an immediate compliment. Sometimes you give credit to others, as you should, and someone else presses in: “No, I also want to praise you for what you did.” That’s when you can just say thank you.

8. The Discipline of Apologizing Without Explanation

In most every situation, if you must apologize, all you gotta do is say what you did, acknowledge its effect, and resist turning the apology into a defense. The only thing harder to say than you’re sorry is to only say you’re sorry. You’re not on trial, and if you act like it, the apology becomes one of those non-apology apologies and might make the whole situation worse.

9. The Discipline of Refusing to Keep Score

It can be a quiet task we are engaged in at all times: functioning as if we’ve been assigned the job of the Great Tabulator of All Rights, Wrongs, and Actions In The World Today.

Stop mentally tracking who initiated, helped, apologized, paid, remembered, sent a card, or sacrificed most recently. There is no need to do this, especially on two fronts: keeping track of good things you to and ensuring others notice it, and keeping track of bad things others did to ensuring others notice that too. Not convinced? Go and read 1 Corinthians 13:5.

10. The Discipline of Losing Gracefully

Speaking of keeping score, the competitive types aren’t gonna like this one. Did you know that you can lose at something non-important and it’s no big deal? A game, a debate, a parking spot. These are all small-stakes situations where it may feel like there are winners and losers; but maybe the real win for you is to pass the ego test of losing without it impacting your relationship with others.

11. The Discipline of Letting Someone Change

When someone is in the active process of improving themselves, we often hold them back with constant reminders of what they used to do, or of the small things they are still doing wrong. We must stop reminding people of who they used to be when they are trying to become someone different, and let people change.

12. The Discipline of Allowing Someone to Misunderstand

It can be subtle, but occasionally you’ll find that in a conversation someone misunderstood something that happened and you didn’t get credit for your part in it. Or maybe they credited someone else for what was actually your idea in the first place. Do not chase every mistaken impression when clarification would require unnecessary self-promotion.

That’s my starter list of relational micro-disciplines. These are of course very small things, but that may be exactly why they are in fact useful. Most relationships don’t get worn down by one enormous act; they die from a thousand smaller cuts.

Maybe some of our formation happens at that same scale. I’ve got some interior and intellectual disciplines in mind, along with some disciplines of speech to add. But I wanted to start with these relational micro-disciplines.

Dallas Willard had plenty he could have said to that student. He was the professor. He knew the subject. I’m guessing he had personally written the book on the subject that was being discussed. He’s a legend, for goodness sake! The student was likely very wrong, but Willard let him have the last word.

So maybe I should stop here and let you have the last word too…

Please leave a comment. I would genuinely love hearing your additional micro-disciplines in the comments, or a story about one I already shared (even if it tops my story; I’ll give you pass this time.)

Leave a comment

Share this to a friend. You might even give it to a spouse or accountability partner and ask them which of these disciplines you might want to engage in more often. Or maybe not. That sounds hard. Your call. ;-)

Share

Make sure you’re subscribed, and upgrade your subscription for just 10 cents a day for some additional writings available to paid subscribers. Paid subscribers also get perks like my 147 daily devotional about the commands of Jesus, and other book-length projects I’m working on that are only offered to paid subscribers.

Subscribe now

DruGroup Summary: Your story did not materialize out of thin air. The people, places, and experiences behind you still shape how you live and lead today. Let’s look at those influences, recognize the patterns, and see more clearly where God might lead you next.

Read more

🎤🦯🗣️📖🐎 - ⭐️

🤥🐎🏛️🔥 - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

👑🏹 - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🕷️🙋🏼‍♂️🟰🤴🏼❓- ⭐️⭐️

😈👠👸🏻🧵🍷🍖 - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🍷🍖👺👑❓👸🏻👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏽 - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🐌⛵🌊 - ⭐️⭐️

🏝️👸🌸💊💕🧠 - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

👁️👹🪵🔥👁️🐑🏹 - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🌊🔱🌪️ - ⭐️

👹🗡️🛡️⛵️💥⛵️💥⛵️➡️🌊 — ⭐️

🧙‍♀️🐷🌿 - ⭐️⭐️🤮

⚰️🪦🩸👻🔮 - ⭐️⭐️

🧜🎶👂🕯️🧔🏾🪢🪵 - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🌪️⛵️🐙 - ⭐️⭐️

☀️🐄🐮🔥🥩⚡ - ⭐️⭐️

🦉👴🏽🐑🧑🏽‍🦯‍➡️🧥🏠❤️ - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🕷️🙋🏼‍♂️🤝👑🏹🧑‍🧒🛕 - ⭐️⭐️⭐️

🐶❤️☠️ - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️😭

👩🏽‍🦱💭🪓🗽- ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🪓🏹🪓🎯❤️ - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🏛️🏹🤺⚔️ 👺☠️- ⭐️⭐️⭐️

🤴🏽👸🏻⛵️🌅❤️- ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Are there any of my stars you disagree with? Got any emoji additions or upgrades you like better than my choices? Let me know in the comments.

Please leave a comment. Emoji’s optional.

Leave a comment

Share this to a friend by text or email. You could even copy and paste my emoji list and send to a pal for fun after watching the movie ;-).

Share

DruGroup Summary: After reflecting on the dangers of denominational work, it is worth remembering why this kind of work matters so much. Denominational leadership can become bureaucratic, political, wasteful, or detached, but at its best, it offers rare opportunities for translocal influence, theological clarity, collaboration, alignment, and kingdom-scale impact.

Over the last several weeks, I have been revisiting a letter my father, Keith Drury, wrote in 1981 to a young leader entering denominational work. His letter named eight dangers that can come with this kind of leadership: spiritual coolness, getting out of touch, departmental growth, overestimating influence, denominational politics, wastefulness, the comfortable life, and superiority.

Those dangers are real. I know they are real because I have seen them in others, and I have seen the seeds of them in myself when I served in denominational leadership. In case you missed any prior entires on The Dangers of Denominational Work, here are all of the entries in one place:

The Opportunities of Denominational Work

It would be a mistake to end the conversation only with the dangers of denominational work. If all we do is warn people about denominational work, we may leave the impression that this kind of leadership is mostly a necessary evil. I do not believe that. I have seen too much good come from it. I have seen too much potential in it; a denominational role, rightly stewarded, can serve the local church in ways few other roles can.

In fact, when I served in denominational leadership, I sometimes wrote a letter to people as they were coming into those offices. In those letters I outlined the dangers we’ve examined in this series, but I also outlined the remarkable opportunities of such work. And those opportunities are worth naming, so below are several I emphasized to them and will outline for you.

The Movement Opportunity

The longer I worked in denominational leadership, the more convinced I became that hidden beneath the demands of institutional maintenance was a sleeping giant that someday might be awakened. If it were to wake up, it would become something God could use in a mighty way. I started to see how a movement could take shape.

A denomination at its worst can become an anemic authority structure, trying to preserve yesterday’s machinery with tomorrow’s money (which is how many people paying into a denominational system might describe their checks being sent in). But a denomination at its best can become a movement of churches, pastors, leaders, laypeople, missionaries, church planters, students, and innovators moving in the same direction for the glory of God.

That possibility is staggering when you really stop and think about it. What would happen if hundreds or even thousands of churches started moving together with fresh clarity? What would happen if the best ideas from one local church could be discovered, strengthened, funded, adapted, and shared with others? What would happen if a bright idea from a seminarian, a church planter, a lay leader, a pastor near retirement, or a congregation in Nebraska could become more than one isolated success story?

Ideas are easy to come up with. Anyone who has ever taken a shower or mowed the lawn has had an idea. But ideas are not easy to implement, nor to share broadly so others can iterated on them and see similar fruit.

That is where denominational work can matter. At its best, it helps the church move from inspiration to execution. It helps match good ideas with the people, resources, and accountability needed for implementation. It helps the whole movement learn from the genius already present out there somewhere else in the body of Christ.

The Translocal Opportunity

Local church ministry is beautiful because it is local. You know the people. You know the stories. You know the hospital rooms, the neighborhoods, the school systems, the funeral homes, the coffee shops, and the back roads. But denominational work offers a different kind of opportunity. It is translocal.

Your influence extends beyond one place. You get to serve the local church across many places. You are not leaving the local behind, at least you should not be, as I talked about in this series. But you are also attempting to serve the local from a broader vantage point.

Some pastors and local leaders begin to lead translocally through speaking, writing, conferences, coaching, training, or creating resources. That can be wonderful. But it also takes a lot of work, and sometimes it can begin to pull energy away from the local ministry they are called to shepherd. In denominational work, the translocal calling is the entire job.

The work is not to become more important than the local church, but the work is intended to serve the local church in more places than one person could ever serve directly. That is a holy opportunity.

The Convening Opportunity

One of the most underrated powers of denominational leadership is the power to convene. A denomination can call people together who might never otherwise be in the same room. Pastors from different regions. Church planters and scholars. District leaders and lay leaders. Missionaries and donors. Young leaders and seasoned leaders. Practitioners and theologians. People with money and innovators with inspiring plans. People with experience and people with energy.

I was often stunned by how possible it was to get the best of the best involved when the invitation was clear and the mission mattered. That power should never be used merely to fill calendars with meetings. Heaven help us if our greatest contribution is more meetings.

But when used well, the convening power of a denomination can create moments of deep alignment, innovation, and encouragement. It can help the church solve problems together that none of us could solve alone. Sometimes the right room at the right time with the right people can change the future.

The Theological Opportunity

Denominational work also offers a theological opportunity. Every church tradition carries a message. At its best, that message is not merely a brand distinction or a set of institutional talking points. It is a way of seeing the gospel that has transformed lives, churches, and communities.

In my own tradition, I believe our theological vision still matters. It matters for discipleship. It matters for holiness. It matters for missionary work. It matters for justice and mercy. It matters for how we think about grace, transformation, and the Spirit-filled life. Denominational leaders have the opportunity to steward that message.

Not to weaponize it. Not to reduce it to slogans. Not to use it as a loyalty test. But to keep placing the best of our theological inheritance in front of the church in fresh, clear, and compelling ways.

A denomination without theological clarity eventually becomes a network of preferences. A denomination with theological clarity can become a people with a shared witness. That is not a small thing.

The Collaboration Opportunity

Another gift of denominational work is the chance to collaborate with strong leaders. In some local church roles, I found that a significant part of my work was leadership development. That is good work, but it is slow work. You are constantly investing in people who are still growing into their gifts.

In denominational work, I often found myself surrounded by people who were already at the peak of their leadership lives. They were energetic, bright, experienced, and capable. In many areas, they knew far more than I did. That can be intimidating if you need to be the smartest person in the room. But if you are free from that insecurity, it is exhilarating.

The right kind of denominational team can multiply the impact of peers. You can bring your gifts to the table, and others can bring theirs. Your weaknesses can be overwhelmed by the strengths of the team. Your strengths can be amplified by the gifts of others.

But collaboration is not optional in this kind of work. It is the only way to get things truly done. A denomination without collaboration is just an authority structure. A denomination with collaboration can become a network of trust.

The Platform Opportunity

It may not be fair, but people pay attention to what is said from denominational headquarters. They may pretend not to. They may make jokes about the denomination. They may roll their eyes at institutional language. They may insist the local church is all that really matters. And in many ways, they are right to be suspicious of overinflated institutional importance; we even talked about that specific danger in this series.

But the platform is still real. When a denominational leader speaks, writes, convenes, names priorities, funds initiatives, or highlights stories, people notice.

That platform can be misused, of course. It can become self-promotional. It can become political. It can become disconnected from the actual needs of pastors and churches.

But when stewarded well, it can lift up what is good. It can amplify faithful innovation. It can help the whole church see what God is doing in one part of the body and imagine what might be possible elsewhere.

The platform is not the point. But it is a tool. And tools should be used for the mission, not kept stored up in the denominational toolbox in the institutional garage.

The Alignment Opportunity

Denominational work also creates an opportunity for alignment. Most churches and leaders are not lacking activity. They are busy. Very busy. The problem is that all of that activity is not always aimed in the same direction.

A denominational team has the chance to help clarify what matters most. It can help align energy, resources, language, leadership, funding, and prayer around shared mission.

This is delicate work. Alignment should not become control. Unity should not become uniformity. A movement should not flatten every local expression into one headquarters-approved template. That would be at minimum uninspiring and perhaps just plain creepy and oppressive.

But without some kind of alignment, energy scatters. When the broader church begins to move in a shared missional direction, local creativity does not have to shrink. It can actually grow and amplify one another. Good alignment does not erase local innovation. It gives local innovation a larger current to swim in which must precede movement.

The Fiscal Opportunity

There is also a fiscal opportunity. Denominational offices often have access to resources that most local churches and districts or conferences do not. Those resources can be wasted, as I wrote about earlier in this series. They can be spent on comfort, bureaucracy, duplication, and institutional self-protection.

But they can also be poured into things that make a real difference. Funding matters. It matters for church multiplication, leadership development, theological education, global mission, crisis response, communications, systems, research, and innovation.

The issue is not whether denominational work has resources. The issue is whether those resources are focused on what matters most. Mission clarity will mean the money funds the mission; but with a foggy mission the money will just fund the machine. That is why the fiscal opportunity must always be tied to stewardship.

The Authority Opportunity

Finally, denominational work carries an authority opportunity. This is probably the one we are most nervous to name, and rightly so. Authority in church life can be abused. It can be used to silence, control, protect insiders, or preserve broken systems.

But authority can also be a gift. There are moments when someone needs to make a decision. Someone needs to set direction. Someone needs to say yes. Someone needs to say no. Someone needs to protect the vulnerable, empower the faithful, confront dysfunction, and create space for mission to move forward.

Denominational leaders often have more authority than they want to admit. That means they must steward it well. We must never lord it over others. As we’ve noted, they must never confuse authority with superiority. We must never forget that authority in the kingdom of God is always for service.

But refusing to use authority can be its own failure. There are times when leadership requires action, not merely facilitation. The question is not whether authority exists. The question is whether it is being used for the mission of God and the good of the church.

Worth the Risk

So yes, denominational work has dangers. Clearly, I believe that deeply just as my dad did and warned. I have spent several weeks naming them and exploring each of them even more deeply than my Dad’s letter did, often naming my own personal struggles with each danger.

But I also believe denominational work has opportunities that are hard to match anywhere else. They are worth the risk if we approach them with humility, courage, accountability, and spiritual seriousness. The goal is not to build a better bureaucracy, but to help the church become more fully alive to the mission of God.

At its worst, denominational work can become a machine that consumes energy and protects itself. But at its best, it can become a servant structure that helps local churches do together what none of us could do alone.

I have noticed a trend among many former denominational leaders: they often believe they failed in their time in office, they regret many of their choices, and in some cases they, and their spouses, nurse grudges and carry a general malaise about their season in these offices. Have you seen this trend?

Now that I’m more than five years out from being in denominational leadership I can see without a doubt that I have struggled with such regrets myself. I’ve felt like I failed. I battle with sarcasm and cynicism all the time. But I’ve been fighting with my heart through that energy toward something that looks a little bit like hope.

I still hope that a movement is possible again. I still hope that it is worth it. A denomination at it’s best is a servant structure to help local churches do what they could not do alone. And that is still a vision worth giving your effort to.

So this is all here as something for you to keep in mind if the time comes and you get voted in, or get a phone call asking you to make the leap and serve. It’s still a vision worth giving your effort to as well.

Share this to a friend by text or email. Your recommendation matters most!

Share

You can find my books on Amazon at this link and more at DavidDrury.com.

Drury on Amazon

DavidDrury.com

Make sure you’re subscribed, and upgrade your subscription for just 10 cents a day for some additional writings available to paid subscribers. Paid subscribers also get other perks like my 147 daily devotional about the commands of Jesus, and other book-length projects I’m working on that are only offered to paid subscribers.

Subscribe now

DruGroup Summary: Some relationships stay vague because no one has the courage to name the next step. The right challenge, offered with clarity and humility, can move a relationship from connection to partnership and open doors that hinting never will.

This one is just for paying subscribers to DruGroup, so I’m putting the paywall up front here. But I’m pretty sure this is an essential one for those in high level leadership in particular.

Read more

DruGroup Summary: In this eighth episode of a series looking back at a 1981 letter from Keith Drury, we confront the danger of superiority. Denominational work can surround leaders with talented people, stimulating conversations, professional resources, and polished environments. But if leaders are not careful, those blessings can quietly become an attitude of spiritual aristocracy that ruins their leadership and damages their soul.

This is the final danger highlighted in a letter my father, Keith Drury, wrote to a new denominational leader back in 1981. Step by step in this series, we have walked through the unique vocational hazards that come when a person transitions from local church ministry into denominational oversight. Here are all of them so far:

This week, we come to the final warning on his list. It may also be the most dangerous one: the danger of superiority. Here is what my dad wrote forty-five years ago:

Dangers of Denominational Leadership Work, Part 8: Superiority

by Keith Drury

“Your new work will provide a nice office, lots of mental stimulation, and professional enhancement. You will be surrounded by some high level advisers and first class resources. You will be able to produce things that are far better than anything you have ever done before. Not because you are that much smarter, just because of the resources and standards of excellence. You will get to attend a large church. You will go to coffee break every day with denominational officials. You can go to lunch day after day and talk about great issues of theology, culture, and leadership. As time passes you will be tempted to feel you are a part of an elite spiritual aristocracy in the denomination. If you do not guard against it, you will begin to judge district superintendents, pastors, and laymen as inept and untrained. If you allow this to get a hold of you, you will begin judging others as shallow, defective, even stupid. This may be the greatest danger of all. Such an attitude of superiority will not only ruin your ability to lead, it will destroy your own soul. Avoid this attitude at all cost.”

The Greatest Danger of All

Now that I review it all, an attitude of superiority could become the root system feeding almost every other danger in this series.

If you feel superior…

• You will start emphasizing your own area over the work of others.

• You will overestimate your influence.

• You will excuse wastefulness because your work feels more important.

• You will become more interested in denominational politics because you will believe the whole thing depends on people like you being in charge.

• You will settle into the comfortable life and convince yourself you deserve it.

• And, over time, superiority will get you out of touch, chill your spirituality, and make you into the very kind of denominational worker everyone else quietly complains about.

Such an internal attitude of superiority not only merely damages your leadership, it damages your soul.

The Subtle Formation of an Elite Class

Now, I will say that I have somewhat less concern about this danger than I think my father had. I do hear stories about the attitude of superiority emanating from denominational leaders once upon a time. But a lot has changed in my lifetime, and if anything I do think there is more of an attitude of superiority over denominational leaders coming from many in the church.

I have heard all kinds of complaints about the denomination in my years of service, but I rarely, if ever, heard someone say they thought a leader was acting all high and mighty: with some kind of superiority complex. Sure, it happens occasionally. And I’m sure many denominational leaders struggle with pride or the way they come across to people. But these days, I think it is more common to make the other criticisms in this list of dangers from my Dad, or to generally question if the denomination is doing enough to make a difference, perhaps even a critique that they have too low of a view of what they should be doing, not too high a view.

However, it is still a temptation to be wary of. No doubt I have communicated an air of superiority to people unintentionally from time to time, and not even been aware of it.

My Own Starting Point

I have to confess something on this point and go a little deeper. The reality is that I dealt with this temptation long before I ever entered denominational work.

Let’s just say no one has ever confused Numbers 12:3 for my life verse.1 That verse says Moses was very humble, more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth. I have many strengths. That one has not always been first on the list.

So this warning does not hit me as a theoretical concern; it hits me as something I have to keep watching in myself. In his book 7 Saving Graces, Steve DeNeff says that the way to combat pride is not simply to strive after humility. That sounds right at first, but it can become its own problem. If you strive after humility, you may end up developing a false humility, which is just another form of pride wearing different clothes.

Pastor Steve says the opposite virtue to the deadly sin of pride is actually wisdom. That has helped me. Wisdom means seeing your true place in the world. It means seeing yourself from God’s perspective. Not inflated. Not diminished. Not self-hating. Not self-important. Just true.

That means I should not overestimate my influence and develop an attitude of superiority. But it also means I should not underestimate my influence and fail to steward what God has actually put in my hands.

Wisdom does not say, “I am nothing.” Wisdom says, “I am not God, and I am not useless. I am a steward.” That is a much better way to live.

My dad ended his letter to that young leader with a word of encouragement. After naming all these dangers, he still believed in the work. He still believed good people should enter it. He still believed amazing days were ahead. That matters too.

The point of this series is not cynicism. It is not anti-denominational. It is not a case against leadership beyond the local church. It is a plea for leaders to stay spiritually alive, locally connected, institutionally humble, financially careful, personally courageous, and wise enough to know their true place in the kingdom of God.

For this reason I’m going to follow this article wrapping up all the Dangers of Denominational Work this week with another one next week focused on “The Opportunities of Denominational Work.” I’ll explore there all the reasons I, too, feel like leading in that lane can be an essential and valuable way to serve.

How About You?

How do you combat an attitude of superiority? And how do you pursue wisdom instead of pride, false humility, or institutional self-importance? I would love to hear your perspective in the comments below.

Please leave a comment. It helps me know your reaction or thinking in response.

Leave a comment

You can find my books on Amazon at this link and more at DavidDrury.com.

Drury on Amazon

DavidDrury.com

NTKC on YouTube

You can also subscribe to the podcast on your pod feed of choice, such as Apple, Spotify, and iHeart Radio.

This Episode’s Show Notes:

S1E22 | Not That Kind of Podcast - News, Notes, and Updates

Hello and welcome back to another long-awaited episode of Not That Kind of Christian. In this episode, David Drury shares updates on the Not That Kind of Christian podcast, with plans for this upcoming season beginning in September. Take a listen to find out some of the plans for future episodes, as well as some insights from episodes you may have missed!

Note for Frequent Listeners: Our upload schedule is currently monthly episodes for the summer.

Hosted By: David Drury

Produced By: Seth Strand and Lantern

Edited By: Seth Strand

Network Provided by: Lantern

Lantern is a ministry sponsored by Wesley Seminary. We empower faith-driven leaders, churches, and organizations to connect, grow, and serve through a trusted network rooted in Holiness values—shining as a light in the world.

Subscribe now

DruGroup Summary: In this seventh installment looking back at a 1981 letter from Keith Drury, we confront the danger of the comfortable life. Denominational work can be stressful and demanding, but it can also become surprisingly pleasant, professional, and secure. That combination can slowly turn a risk-taking servant into a comfortable bureaucrat.

The Comfortable Life: The Dangers of Denominational Work

Occasionally throughout the late spring and summer of 2026 I have been revisiting a letter my father, Keith Drury, wrote to a new denominational leader back in 1981. The original letter briefly spoke of the unique vocational hazards that come when a person transitions from local church ministry into a broader scope and scale of leadership. I’ve been adding my own additional commentary from my own experience and seeing what might hold up to the present in my dad’s old warnings.

Here’s a list of where we’ve gone so far.

This next one delves into quieter danger that can happen to leaders who once took great risks for the kingdom of God. It is the danger of becoming comfortable.

Here is what my dad wrote forty-five years ago:

Dangers of Denominational Leadership Work, Part 7: The Comfortable Life

by Keith Drury

“In some ways the work you are entering is more stressful and demanding than anything you have ever done. But in other ways you will enjoy it much more. You will work with a collection of top-notch professional ministry-oriented people. International Center work is mentally stimulating, some have likened it unto getting an extra advanced degree. You will not be bothered with volunteers who are unreliable -- you will have paid staff here. You will not have to put up with a church member who is your enemy and has the power to vote against you this spring. On the evenings when you are home you very seldom get telephone calls. So, in spite of some extra pressure and demands, you will probably like this work. It can lead to the ‘good life syndrome’ if you are not careful. You must resist this with all of your strength. Once you settle in and start taking, rather than giving, that internal compromise will affect the rest of your life. If you find yourself becoming a ‘comfortable bureaucrat’ it’s time to leave or take a new risk.”

Subscribe now

The Good Life Syndrome

This one is hard to hear. But after my near-decade serving in the leadership of the denomination I’m a part of, it also rings true. I have also seen this danger at play in the life of denominational workers from many different tribes. I have also felt the pull of it myself. There is a way for those in broader church leadership to get a little too cozy with the life.

That does not mean denominational work is easy. It can be very stressful. The pressure is real. The hours can be long, especially with all the travel involved (at one point I was traveling 100 nights a year). The conflicts can be complicated and have a lot of consequences. Sometimes the decisions feel as though they affect a broader set of people than anything you faced in a local church. Of course, in the local church, the situations go deeper into individual lives, but the point still stands.

In other ways, however, the work can be more enjoyable. You often do work with thoughtful, gifted, ministry-minded professionals. Most people usually don’t get roles in those offices without having a slew of people that saw promise in them at other “levels” of leadership before. Whereas in the local church I usually was developing younger team members who were in the first decade of their work, in translocal denominational leadership, I often felt like I was working with mostly people at their peak: meaning they were firing on all cylinders and perhaps in the role of a lifetime for them.

The conversations with these leaders can be mentally stimulating. The exposure to the broader church can stretch your imagination. You are often in rooms where big ideas are discussed and large decisions are made. In some cases, it really can feel like earning an extra advanced degree like my dad said.

And there are some things you do not have to deal with in quite the same way. No more panic recruiting of volunteers on Saturday night. Very few late-night phone calls from the same person in yet another crisis. You are not carrying the same weekly pressure of preaching, funerals, hospital visits, counseling emergencies, board meetings, and Sunday-morning attendance numbers.

I’ve often told other pastors that nothing is quite so nice as that first Christmas season when you’re not in the local church. You can actually just enjoy your family without the highest pressure outreach services of the year in the church to run. And nobody out in the church is calling you with problems as they have enough problems to run in their own churches at Christmastime.

So while the work is demanding, it can also become comfortable. That is where the danger begins.

When the Lifestyle Starts to Need the Job

I have always been encouraged when I see people cycle in and out of denominational service, moving from the local level to the general level and back again. That pattern says something good to me. It says the work still belongs to the church. It says denominational leadership is a form of service, not a permanent elevation into a higher caste.

It stands to reason that some people elected or appointed to broader church roles may receive a pay increase from what they were doing before. In many cases, they are carrying more responsibility, more complexity, and more pressure. I do know of examples of the opposite, where they took a pay cut, but that is more rare. There are also plenty of people in the denominational pay structure who are not living some inflated lifestyle at all. That should be said clearly.

But I have also seen people start living in a way that required more and more pay to sustain. Just like any job in mid-life, if the cars, houses, meals, vacations, and comforts became normal, some really have to keep working at that level. I have always had deep concerns when someone says they can’t really go “do that kind of job again” because they couldn’t take the pay cut. Ministry leaders should not live like that, in my opinion.

The issue is not whether a leader can receive a fair salary. They should. The issue is whether the leader slowly becomes dependent on the lifestyle that pay provides. When that happens, something changes internally. You no longer ask yourself, “Where is God calling me to take the next risk?” You start asking, “How do I protect this?” That is when you no longer serve in the role, the role is serving you.

A Leader Who Went Back for New Stories

What I like most about my dad’s warning is the emphasis on risk.

When I was a local pastor, a District Superintendent once told me he was planning to resign. I thought he was at the very top of his game in that season. He was respected by many people. He had been effective in hard conflicts and major church multiplication issues. In almost every measurable way, he was one of the best I had seen doing that work up to that point.

So I pushed back. I told him I did not think it was right. I thought the church still needed him in that role.

He explained it to me this way: “You know, Dave, I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I need to get out in a local setting for a while. At least for a year or more. My stories are good, and they still provide some vision, but they are ten years old. I need to go out and serve in a smaller role for a while and get some new stories.”

I have never forgotten that. He did exactly what he said. He resigned from what many considered one of the best spots in the denomination and went to the mission field for a season. Later, he returned to a role that was even more demanding, more public, and more necessary, but with fresh stories.

Living Below the Blessing

During my years in denominational leadership, we resolved to live not only within our means, but well below them. I had received a pay raise to do that work, and I had already been well cared for before.

So we made a conscious decision when our income changed to not increase our expenditures. We lived within the means we had prior to a pay increase. That meant three things: 1) we were able to give much more away, 2) we were able to save more money for our kids college and for retirement, and 3) when it came time to leave, it was a no brainer: we didn’t have to stay for the wrong financial reasons.

I have seen others make the same choices, and I respect that about them. Some leaders quietly give away far more than people know. Some make intentional lifestyle choices so they can stay freer for the mission. Some refuse to let the role become like some kind of velvet prison.

The Comfortable Ecclesiocrat

I do not want to become what my dad called a “comfortable bureaucrat.”

Or maybe in church life we should call it a “comfortable ecclesiocrat.”

That is a person who once had fire in the bones but now mostly protects the institution. A person who once took risks but now mainly preserves the role. A person who once carried fresh stories from the front lines but now mostly repeats aging stories from a safer distance. That danger is real. I felt it myself.

We have to keep reminding ourselves to take risks. To not protect our own line of work. To keep reminding ourselves that no ministry job is the sum total of the kingdom of God. It is only a temporary assignment within it.

The truth is, I do not need any particular job. When the day comes that I am no longer useful in a role, or when someone else could do it better, I hope I am ready to step aside. A few times I’ve been at that crossroads, and I think I got out before it turned sour.

Over to You

So, how do you know when a role that once required faith has become a role you mainly protect? And what practices help you keep taking new risks for the kingdom instead of settling into the good life?

I would love to hear your perspective in the comments below.

You can find my books on Amazon at this link and more at DavidDrury.com.

Drury on Amazon

DavidDrury.com

Did you know you can gift a subscription to someone? Just click here to see some options:

Give a gift subscription

The headlines were terrifying. TWA Flight 800 went down. ValuJet Flight 592 crashed into the Everglades. The Khobar Towers bombing shook American forces overseas. And the Atlanta Olympics were hit with an explosion.

It was a strange year in biology and food science. Mad cow disease had me wondering if hamburgers were trying to kill me. The FDA approved Olestra, which promised guilt-free potato chips as long as you didn’t read the label about abdominal cramping and loose stools. Dolly the sheep was cloned, which just made me wonder if we were setting up our world to become an apocalyptic movie where no one survives.

It was a violent year, too. Jon Benet Ramsey was murdered. Tupac was shot dead. A gunman killed thirty-five people in Tasmania. The Unabomber was finally caught, which was good, but that just reminded me that he had been out there in the first place.

Technology was still in its infancy. Fewer than 40 million people were browsing the internet worldwide (I remember we still called it “Cyberspace”), and most thought it was a passing fad. AOL kept shipping shiny discs to us repeatedly begging us to get online. Apple was failing so badly they had to bring Steve Jobs back. The Telecommunications Act helped media companies start swallowing each other whole.

Even the entertainment news was depressing. Kathie Lee Gifford found out, along with the rest of us, that her clothes were made in sweatshops. The Fresh Prince, Donahue, and Ren & Stimpy all left television for good, and even Murder, She Wrote couldn’t solve 1996 well enough to stay on the air. Speaking of things that are ironic, Alanis Morissette still seemed relevant, and the Spice Girls released “Wannabe.” We embraced the cringe back then.

And I think we can sum up our ambivalence about 1996 by remembering that America had an election to choose between Bob Dole, Bill Clinton, and Ross Perot, and somehow the Macarena still won.

However, 1996 has at least one incredibly redeeming quality to it. That is the year my beloved bride, Kathryn, decided to marry me on July 6, precisely three decades ago.

Thanks for rescuing me, Kathy, and 1996 in the process!

Love, Dave

And below are some pics from the last thirty years with my bride, who keeps turning years that are bad by most any usual measure into good years:

Perhaps you wanna give Kathy and I something for our anniversary? Here’s three ways to support us:

You can find my books on Amazon at this link and more at DavidDrury.com.

Drury on Amazon

DavidDrury.com

Make sure you’re subscribed, and upgrade your subscription for just 10 cents a day for some additional writings available to paid subscribers. Paid subscribers also get other perks like my 147 daily devotional about the commands of Jesus, and other book-length projects I’m working on that are only offered to paid subscribers.

Subscribe now

Did you know you can gift a subscription to someone? Just click here to see some options:

Give a gift subscription

DruGroup Summary: In this sixth installment looking back at a 1981 letter from Keith Drury, we confront the danger of wastefulness. When the scale of leadership expands, small percentages of waste can become massive amounts of kingdom money. That requires more than frugality. It requires accountability, humility, and a constant remembrance of where the money came from.

Wastefulness: The Dangers of Denominational Work

In this series, we have been revisiting a letter my father, Keith Drury, wrote to a young leader back in 1981. Step by step, we have walked through the unique vocational hazards that come when a person transitions from local church ministry into denominational oversight. At times, we have also been able to apply those lessons to many other kinds of work, especially work with larger scope and broader influence.

So far, we have looked at the below linked dangers…

The next warning on his list exposes a very practical financial danger that sneaks up on leaders simply because the scale of the operation changes: wastefulness.

Here is what my dad wrote forty-five years ago:

Dangers of Denominational Leadership Work: Wastefulness

by Keith Drury

“A lot of what we do here is somewhat similar to the local church but on a larger scale. In a church you might print 50 bulletins for Sunday’s service. Here, we might run 5000 copies of a newsletter. Though the work is similar, the scale is expanded tremendously. To run off five extra bulletins did not seem like a waste when you were in the local church... even though it’s 10%. If you bring that same principal into your current work you will be running 500 extra copies of a more expensive product. Throwing away five bulletins seems minor. Throwing away an entire carton of newsletters or books can easily add up to hundreds or thousands of dollars. One of the dangers of denominational work is to quit being frugal, and spend money wastefully. If you look around and notice others making expenditures which seem wasteful to you, it makes it a little easier for you to do the same. This is a danger to resist.”

The Scale Changes the Stewardship

In most denominations, or really in any work with a larger or even national and international scope, there are certain “perks of power” associated with higher-level leadership. Some of them may be necessary. Some may even be wise. But almost all of them come at a premium.

The specific printing costs my father mentioned in 1981 may be less central now. We are not all running off thousands of paper newsletters in the same way. But the danger has not disappeared. It has simply changed forms.

Today, waste shows up in events, travel, technology, branding, consultants, subscriptions, software, videos, conferences, meetings, meals, and layers of administration. I sometimes see it in larger ministry structures. I have also seen it in larger churches, including my own larger church budgets.

For example, I planted urban churches in my twenties and both our church and those we ministered to had very limited resources. We counted the cost of most every financial decision down to the decimal point. Then I changed roles and began helping run budgets in larger churches.

I was stunned by how much coffee we had to purchase to offer free coffee on Sundays. In one half of my mind, that budget looked large enough to run an entire small church. It seemed wasteful. I’ll confess that the other half of my mind runs on coffee, so while I trimmed that budget and we changed suppliers, I did not cut it out completely.

That is the tricky thing about waste. It is not always obvious. Sometimes the thing really does have value. Sometimes the question is not, “Should we spend money on this at all?” The better question is, “Are we spending this money with the same care we would use if we had personally watched the people give it?”

Accountability Is Not an Insult

Most of us can do a better job being careful stewards in our roles. But the deeper problem behind ongoing waste is often not math. It is trust. It is accountability. It is the willingness to let other people ask hard questions.

To be completely honest, nobody really wants to take the extra time required to keep leaders accountable. It slows things down. It can feel awkward. It can make a leader feel second-guessed.

On top of that, some leaders, because of insecurity or other deep-seated issues, signal to the people around them that they do not want to be questioned. They may not say it outright. But people learn. Staff learn. Boards learn. Over time, everyone figures out which questions are welcome and which ones are not.

Because of that effect on the leadership culture, it can be very hard for people on the ground to believe that leaders actually want accountability. So you cannot merely say, “Hold me accountable.” You have to build accountability into the system.

A co-pilot goes through checks the pilot may have already completed. An auditor examines financial procedures that competent people may have already followed. A second signature on a check is not an accusation. It is a protection.

Good systems of accountability are not an insult to leadership. Our systems of checks are how those with power show they are transparent, can be trusted, and are not only willing to be held accountable, but willing to work to be held accountable.

The Check in the Desk

One practical thing helped me stay grounded on this front during the years I worked at a denominational headquarters.

The local church I left before entering that denominational role was a large congregation. Because of our size, we paid a very large amount in what is called the denominational assessment. Many pastors on the ground openly call it a “tax” for short hand.

One of my roles within our financial system of checks and balances was to serve as a check signer. I could have given that taks to someone else, but it was part of our own internal systems of checks and balances, on checks literally, in this case. (I could sign checks, for instance, but I could not issue them.) Each month, I would sit at my desk and sign the actual check that went to pay for our district, educational, and general denominational assessments.

For our church, it amounted to nearly $18,000 every month, adjusted for today’s dollars.

Every time I signed that check, I wondered whether our local church might be able to do more for the kingdom of God with that money than what would ultimately be done with it at the headquarters level. I honestly thought of that every single time my pen hit the paper.

Some months it genuinely grieved me to send those precious resources away. At the same time, I was wondering whether we could afford a part-time junior high youth ministry position, invest in a missions trip for our college students, or hire a resident pastor and train that person for future ministry. In each of those cases, just one or two of those monthly checks would have been enough to fund the ministry for an entire year. I have also planted four churches, and when you averaged their first-year startup costs, each one launched for less than that single monthly assessment check.

One of the very last checks I signed at that church was that assessment check. Before it went into the mail, I took a photocopy of it.

Then I kept that photocopy inside my desk working at the denominational headquarters. Here is that drawer pictured below but the check blurred out:

Every time I opened that drawer to grab a pen or a Post-it note, which happened many times a day, I saw that check. It became an immediate, silent reminder not to become wasteful. Whenever I faced an administrative decision about how to use the precious dollars sent in from local churches, I was instantly reminded of the pastor I used to be, constantly questioning whether that money might be better spent at the local level.

To be clear, when that denominational assessment was discussed with suspicion, I advocated with our board and staff that we keep sending in the funds. And, as you might imagine, I wanted churches to keep doing so when the tables turned and I was on the receiving side instead of the signing side.

For years, our church sent it faithfully. We never once missed our organizational obligation. I calculated it recently, and in my five-year tenure at that church, I signed checks totaling nearly one million dollars for denominational purposes. I am not saying that money was wasted by the people who received it. But I am saying this: everyone in such roles should think twice, pray twice, and do everything in their power not to waste it on their side of the desk.

Because on the other side of every denominational dollar is a pastor or lay treasurer wondering whether that same money could have funded a ministry need closer to home.

Over to You

So for the rest of our readers and leaders out there: how do you fight the creeping temptation of waste when you are managing a larger budget or a broader scale than you used to?

How do you keep the faces of the people who actually earned, gave, and sacrificed that money in your mind’s eye when making institutional decisions?

Maybe every leader needs some version of a check in the drawer.

I would love to hear your perspective in the comments below.

Please leave a comment. It helps me know your reaction or thinking in response.

Leave a comment

Share this to a friend by text or email. Your recommendation matters most!

Share

DruGroup Summary: The “Team Bullseye” is a practical, visual exercise to audit your relational network, ensuring you aren’t trying running off like a lone wolf.

Read more

A little break here from my typical articles, but I thought we could have some fun here in the summertime. Enjoy!

I support women in ministry and preaching, and so do the people I come from. In fact, I am a part of a theologically conservative denomination involved in ordaining of the first woman in the United States. Women in ministry has a long history in the church from the very beginnings, and I have found the resources (historical and scriptural) on this page to be very helpful, especially for those who have or field questions about women in ministry. The work of Elizabeth Glass Turner has been a great resource as well; I like her stuff so much that I interviewed her on my podcast.

However, we have to admit we have a marketing problem with women preaching. The quandary is simple: it doesn’t seem masculine or American enough. And as a fact and priority of contemporary life we must think actively about communicating TO AMERICAN MEN in all we do. This is especially time-sensitive as we had Father’s day this weekend, and the 4th of July coming up, this time celebrating 250 years of American awesomeness. The time is ripe to begin communicating more effectively to American men about women in ministry.

So like a freshman panicking at mid-terms, I elicited the help of a handy LLM-powered artificial intelligence to help me make this deadline. The parameters were simple: help me communicate the truth that women preaching is as American as it gets, but in a way that specifically communicates that well to men. This was the model’s first try:

This is not a bad attempt. Flags, manly men in the audience with striking jawlines and flags waving. A bald eagle is even alighting the event. But this first attempt was lacking on a few levels. The men needed to be more into it. And not just the word “it,” which the model gave to me twice for some reason. Men needed to be into the message the woman is preaching. Thus the second attempt:

Now we’re talking. The guys are super into what this lady preacher just dropped from the pulpit. That’s good. But it wasn’t manly enough in my book, so I told the machine.

Here we go! Not just muscles, but muscle cars. And Semi trucks! But it needed more things men are prototypically into, that would make it feel like a real “man’s man” would dig it. So the next attempt went for it…

More flags, more muscles, more Bibles, more tools, and more bald eagles all seemed like logical choices the model made. But what could more inspiring to the full inclusion of women in ministry than a manly man riding a pterodactyl listening to the sermon? You’re right: not much. I don’t know which part of Genesis that was inspired from but I wanna read it in small group soon! We’re heading in the right direction. But we still needed MORE!

Now this is more. The inclusion of a guy grilling was a master stroke. A pit BBQ is it’s own kind of altar of sacrifice and worship for some men. And the addition of Mount Rushmore and the Space Shuttle: pretty cool I gotta say. But I again asked for more. It needed to positively drip with testosterone.

And I got it. This drips. I can’t tell all that’s going on here but clearly the model believed more dogs were needed to connect to more men. And the bear was an unexpected but nice touch. I think Davy Crocket is even making an appearance now (I must say that fella is pretty manly). But we have to admit that it’s getting a little cluttered. I wondered what our machine overlords would do to make the image more clear and direct, something that gets the main message across with more grace and clarity. And it gave me this:

We were closer, but not quite there. All the key elements remained and are centered in this most recent image. But I asked the machines who have studied us so assiduously to help me communicate with crystal clear focus the message I was trying to get across. Many men don’t want to read the exegesis on women in ministry texts or grapple with the church’s long history of women preaching, so we needed one image we can use to change the hearts of American men on this important doctrinal message.

I wasn’t burning up half the transformer architecture of the midwest’s recurrent neural network models or depleting much of the water-table around Indiana’s server farms for nothing! I needed to know: what is the purest, most direct essence of female empowerment that would be received well by a completely secure and masculine man?

I wanted the machine to focus on the main point, and I think it gave me an enduring image for the times that no doubt your uncle will want to share on Facebook. And as a completely secure and masculine man myself, I can say that the result was breathtaking….

Please leave a comment with your favorite development in this journey through communicating to American men.

Leave a comment

Share this to a friend by text or email to someone you just KNOW is dying to share images like this on Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, or maybe even MySpace.

Share

DruGroup Summary: Politics are inevitable in any organization with elections, but the danger lies in becoming absorbed by the game. By moving from a posture of conspiratorial gossip to one of transparency and honest conviction, we can remain focused on the mission of the Church rather getting embroiled in the maneuvering of its people.

We’ve been winding the clock back to 1981 about the dangers of denominational work, based on a letter from my father he sent to colleagues way back when. So far, we talked of the temptation toward spiritual coolness, the drifte to get out of touch, and the confusion between departmental growth and actual kingdom growth, and overestimating your influence.

As a quick refresher: back in 1981, my father, who served in denominational leadership in a variety of roles for more than two decades, wrote a letter to a new colleague outlining several professional hazards. Some 35 years later I also worked in denominational leadership for nearly a decade, and I started the practice of sending my dad’s letter to some of our new team members that worked with me along with some of my additional commentary. (A few of those have come back to me now reminding me of our interchanges about the subject when we worked together.) Now I’m taking all that and revisiting it yet again to see if my dad’s wisdom holds up in our current landscape.

Spoiler alert: it does.

My father’s fifth warning was simple, and it’s about denominational politics….

Dangers of Denominational Leadership Work, Part 5: Becoming Absorbed with Church Politics

by Keith Drury

“Any organization or institution that selects its leaders by election is doomed to some sort of politics. Even if a person had no intention whatsoever to ‘politic’ their actions may still be interpreted as political. Because our denomination has chosen to select its leaders by popular vote, if you are not careful, you will get caught up in the discussion of who is rising in popularity, falling, or who is the latest dark horse candidate for one job or another. You will not be able to escape some conversations like this. However, it is a serious danger to become absorbed with it. It is much better to simply do a good job and leave the politics to people who would rather play that game instead of work hard.”

You won’t be able to escape these conversations entirely. However, my father warned that it is a serious danger to become absorbed by them. It is much better to simply do a good job and leave the political maneuvering to the people who would rather play the game than do the actual work.

The “March Madness” of Ministry

Over and over again, in every stripe of religious leadership, I hear people bemoan the politics of their systems. And yet, I’ve noticed at many conferences that the older guard loves playing these games most of all.

I’ve often called it “March Madness” for the church. People do something similar to filling out their brackets: talking in hallways, corners, and even restrooms (sometimes speculating, sometimes conspiring) always with that familiar gleam in their eye. When asked about it directly, they’ll often pivot: “Oh, I don’t know what will happen. I don’t play politics, but it is interesting. By the way, have you heard about what [insert name here] is saying?” Beware of the person who comes to influence your vote while claiming they “don’t play politics.”

Two Hard Truths

While I agree with my dad’s core warning, I’d offer two nuances.

First, politics is played in every system with leadership. It isn’t just denominations. I’ve pastored some small churches (two of which I planted) and served on staff at two large ones. I’ve volunteered and worked in churches ranging from 30 to 3,000 in attendance. In every single case, politics were at play. When pastors scorn the denomination for being “too political,” I always want to have a conversation about the power and political dynamics happening on their own staff, their church board, or even in their children’s ministry. Leadership may be influence, but influence rarely happens without the pugnacious head of politics popping up.

Second, if we admit that politics exist, we can be more authentic. The problem isn’t necessarily that someone is trying to find out how I’ll vote or attempting to persuade me or even advocating for changes they want to see take place. The problem is more often the surreptitious, dishonest way it’s done, usually accompanied by a thin veneer of false humility. In my book it is much better to be an open book, stating our intentions and our views clearly.

A Kingdom with One King

It is important to not get absorbed in the “March Madness” of elections in denominational circles, and to understand that no matter who is elected, the mission is the same in the end. I want to recognize that while I cannot escape politics entirely, I can be honest about what is happening and what I want to happen. I can choose to be forthright in my opinions and trust God to guide the process and be supportive and not disunifying when things don’t go my way. After all, we must remember that it is His Church we are leading. A kingdom can have but one King, and I am not Him.

How about you? How do you manage the politics of your church, your denomination, or even your workplace? Does the “March Madness” of your local circles get to you, or have you found a way to stay focused on the work at hand?

-DED/KWD/mtf

Please leave a comment. It helps me know your reaction or thinking in response.

Leave a comment

Share this to a friend by text or email. Your recommendation matters most!

Share

Catch up on the series: Click here for the previous installments on the Dangers of Denominational Work: Part 1 – Spiritual Coolness | Part 2 – Getting Out of Touch | Part 3 – Thinking Department Growth = Church Growth | Part 4 - Overestimating Your Influence.

DruGroup Summary: In this fourth installment looking back at a 1981 letter from Keith Drury, we tackle the illusion of reach: the danger of overestimating your influence, the reality of denominational “junk mail,” and why leaders must learn to live with “missed ducks.”

We have been looking back at a letter my father, Keith Drury, wrote back in 1981 about the dangers of denominational work.

There are some unique vocational hazards of moving from the frontlines of local ministry into denominational oversight. So far, we have looked at the internal drift toward spiritual coolness, the temptation to get out of touch, and the corporate temptation to confuse departmental growth with actual kingdom growth.

This week, we turn to the fourth warning on my dad’s list. It deals with a common leadership blind spot: overestimating your influence.

As leaders, we can be hyper-aware of the times we underestimate our impact. Parents do this all the time with their kids. Teachers get discouraged and lose sight of the seeds they are planting. Anyone working with the next generation knows the ache: young people rarely have the awareness nor the vocabulary to articulate the impact you are having on them in the moment, and you often only see the fruit in retrospect.

But there is an opposite, equally dangerous error: assuming you have a massive audience hanging on your every word when, in reality, you are speaking into the void. Being farther from the ‘front lines’ exacerbates this danger, and it can be an acute problem for those in denominational leadership

Here is how my dad laid out that exact reality check:

Dangers of Denominational Leadership Work, Part 4: To Overestimate the Influence of the International Center*

by Keith Drury

“To over estimate the influence of the International Center.1 When you send out a letter or a mid-week publication in the local church many of your people might read part of it. This will change. Denominational work is essentially different in this respect. The vast majority of the mail we send out from this building is considered “junk mail” by the recipients. Most of these people do not know you personally, consider most of us out of touch, and will simply stack it up in a pile or toss it out unopened. We must say things over and over and over again before even half of the audience gets them. Even then, they won’t get the entire message. If you are unable to live with “missed ducks” this work will be very frustrating to you. Never assume “because I said it they know it.” The work that you are now entering requires constant and repeated saying of the same thing. You have left local church work where you had a great influence on a fewer number. You are now entering denominational work where you will have a smaller emphasis on a greater number.”

The Reality Check

This one exposes some problematic self-talk when it comes to organizational branding, vision casting, and promotion. As a leader, you desperately want to avoid sounding like a broken record. But the mechanics of the role demand that you repeat yourself constantly just to achieve basic baseline awareness.

Keep in mind, Dad wrote this back in 1981—not only in the pre-internet era, but the pre-computer era for most people he worked with (even if our family was already experimenting with them). Back then the primary delivery mechanism was physical paper envelopes arriving in a pastor’s metal mailbox. I’m guessing the paper was cranked out on ancient mimeograph machines. If you don’t know what those messy and strange machines were, then enjoy this little trip.

If the institutional distance felt vast back then, today the distractions have multiplied exponentially. We aren’t just competing with a stack of physical mail anymore; we are competing with an endless digital deluge of emails, texts, notifications, and social feeds. At least back then you had to physically throw away your pile of junk mail, now our apps filter them out automatically, even if someone wanted to read them.

Worse yet, the perceived irrelevance of denominational structures is no longer a hushed conversation whispered in the hallways by frustrated pastors. Today, it is a stated, widely accepted fact for many leaders on the ground. When HQ speaks, the default response from the trenches isn’t anticipation; it is often a collective shrug.

If you are a leader transitioning into this space from a local church background, the shift can be a shock to the system. In the local church, you had a high-depth, high-influence relationship with a smaller number of people. When you spoke from the pulpit or sent out a midweek update, people listened because they knew your character and trusted your voice. At broader levels of leadership, that dynamic flips like my dad pointed out. You trade high-depth intimacy for high-breadth scale. Your influence is spread out and thinner, like butter scraped over too much bread.2

The Resolution

It is critical to not become presumptive. You have to have a healthy skepticism about the memorability and portability of the things you communicate. If you want your message to cut through the noise, you have to change the way you communicate entirely:

• Clarity Over Volume: Saying things clearly is not optional. Rigor is needed in constantly sharpening the message so it is unique, focused, and passionate, or it won’t be received even if heard.

• Creative Redundancy: It is critical to not just say things more often; you have to say them in entirely new ways, using fresh mediums that actually meet people where they are.

• Joining Existing Conversations: Rather than continuing to hold echo chamber meetings, it’s best to lean in and join the conversations already happening nearer the ground, answering the actual questions people are currently asking.

Ultimately, communication cannot be about justifying institutional existence. Nobody is saved by a bureaucracy. The most important clarity in communication is knowing why your organization exists in the first place. If you don’t know that, why do the work at all?

Missed Ducks

Dad also used an odd turn of the phrase in this letter that you might not have tracked with when he mentioned being “unable to live with missed ducks.” This is a reference to a leadership parable he used to share called “Duck Hunting” (from his popular “strategetics” teachings3) which goes like this:

Over to You

How about you? For those of you looking at things from the local church perspective, where do you see denominational or network leaders overestimating their actual reach and influence?

How do you sometimes overestimate your own impact in your context, whether that’s in your preaching, your newsletter, your blog, or your clever social media posts? How do you keep yourself grounded when communicating across a broader distance?

I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

-DED/KWD/mtf

Please leave a comment. It helps me know your reaction or thinking in response.

Leave a comment

Share this to a friend by text or email. Your recommendation matters most!

Share

Catch up on the series: Click here for the previous installments on the Dangers of Denominational Work: Part 1 – Spiritual Coolness | Part 2 – Getting Out of Touch | Part 3 – Thinking Department Growth = Church Growth

NTKC on YouTube

You can also subscribe to the podcast on your pod feed of choice, such as Apple, Spotify, and iHeart Radio.

This Episode’s Show Notes:

Welcome Back to Not That Kind of Christian! In todays episode Dr. Charlie Alcock shares his 36 years of experience in youth ministry, emphasizing its importance, evolution, and how to effectively disciple young people by following Jesus’ example. Discover practical strategies for engaging youth, the significance of holistic discipleship, and the future hope for youth ministry amidst cultural challenges!

Note For Frequent Listeners: Our upload schedule is changing to monthly episodes for the summer. Thank you for your patience this week!

Hosted By: David Drury

Produced By: Seth Strand and Lantern

Edited By: Seth Strand

Network Provided by: Lantern

Lantern is a ministry sponsored by Wesley Seminary. We empower faith-driven leaders, churches, and organizations to connect, grow, and serve through a trusted network rooted in Holiness values—shining as a light in the world.

Subscribe now

DruGroup Summary: In this third installment looking back at a 1981 letter from Keith Drury, we tackle another temptation of denominational leadership: when we confuse bureaucratic, departmental growth as if it’s frontline kingdom growth.

I’ve been taking time to look back at a legacy letter my father, Keith Drury, wrote to a young leader way back in 1981.

So far in this series, we wrestled with the first two warnings on his list: the internal drift toward “spiritual coolness,” and the distancing trap of “getting out of touch” with everyday congregations. Both of those hit close to home for me, resonating with temptations I grappled with during my own time in denominational leadership.

This week, we turn the page to the third portion of his letter. This section exposes a subtle, corporate temptation: the pressure to measure our success by the expansion of our own administrative kingdoms rather than the health of the frontline church.

Here is how my dad framed the danger forty-five years ago:

The Danger of Thinking Departmental Growth Equals Church Growth

by Keith Drury

“To be deceived into thinking that departmental growth equals church growth. In the local church it was easy to measure your own effectiveness. More people got saved and came into your church, and your budget went up. If you are not very careful, you will bring that same mentality into the International Center and apply it to departments. You will tend to assume that you are being successful if you have more and more people working for you and your budget is increasing. This false notion of church growth is prevalent among all denominational headquarters systems. It results in a gradually growing bureaucracy where each departmental leader measures his success by the size of the budget and the number of staff working for him. If you are not very careful you will fall into this trap. Keep in mind that the only kind of church growth there is, happens locally. Our entire purpose for being is to serve and support the local church as it grows.

The Reality Check

It is incredibly easy to see how this temptation takes root. For those of us who transition out of local church ministry, we are accustomed to seeing the fruit of our labor with our own eyes. You see the seats fill up, you witness people cross the line of faith, you watch the budget stabilize, and you see the community change. It is tangible, immediate, and visible.

You shake the actual hands of the people. You dedicate their babies, officiate their weddings, and bury their parents. You baptize and counsel, you preach and teach. You place the elements of the Lord’s Table right into their hands directly. These are not only the things that count, it’s the actual numbers you count. Your metrics are that meaningful.

But when you move into a denominational role, most that direct connection to the daily stuff of ministry disappears. It stands to reason that human nature kicks in, and we naturally look for something right in front of us to measure. If we aren’t careful, we find a pale substitute of the local church’s metrics in our immediate organizational numbers. Those of us used to counting heads and baptisms and tithing-families start looking for what to count in our new work. We start looking at the size of our offices, the number of direct reports on our team, and the expansion of our departmental budget as proof that we are winning.

But all that is a false measurement. In fact, it can be a dangerous one. Swelling the size of a central headquarters often means drawing more resources away from the local church in terms of finances and focus. An overbuilt bureaucracy doesn’t fuel frontline health; it hampers it by becoming an undue financial and administrative burden on the people doing ministry “out there.”

I have seen this danger become evident in decision-making and arguments over pieces of the pie. I have seen it cloud judgment and get us entirely off-mission.

A Counter-Intuitive Check

When I left the local church to work in denominational leadership, I took a copy of the last check our church sent to pay for our “denominational dues,” as many call them.1 Because we were a “capped church,” it was a very big check.

I kept that check in the top drawer of my desk the entire time I worked in denominational leadership. From time to time, I would bring it out in meetings as a visual illustration to drive home a singular point: this is where the money comes from. We certainly must spend that money well.

Because of that deeply ingrained value, I am glad our denomination has actively pushed back against the danger of bloated bureaucracy over the years. But I will observe that at times, “doing less” has effectively become the unofficial slogan of central leadership.

So here is where a counter-intuitive check comes into play. It is also a corresponding danger to think that the shrinkage of “doing less” is always automatically good for the kingdom.

The size of one’s staff and the scale of one’s budget are never the actual things to measure. The real metric is impact. We cannot waste kingdom resources. But if we are just doing less and less at every single turn, then why do any of it at all? An ineffective thing running at a 2% cost is not as good as an incredibly effective thing running at 5% cost.

It’s the Parable of the Talents redux. The core problem in the parable from Jesus (see Matthew 25:14-30) was not the number of talents loaned to the servants; the problem was what they actually did with them. True stewardship isn’t just about shrinking the budget or burying resources in the dirt out of fear; it’s about maximizing effectiveness to fuel the frontline. It’s about the impact of the actual use of what’s entrusted to us. We must measure effectiveness, not size.

This is all true as well in an organization like my own, Global Partners, which isn’t funded by denominational dues at all, but merely by the giving of those supporting missionaries.2 However, dollars spent on the centralized staff (what they call the “Resource Team”) are dollars that could be spent on direct missionary activity to further reach the four in ten without access to the gospel. So what we do in those offices needs to have value to increase that impact in some prioritized way for missionaries themselves, or the things that enable us to have missionaries in the first place. All of that should be regularly evaluated in terms of impact and efficiency, of course.

And likewise these principles apply at a local level just as much for anyone doing the counting and measuring. Even the list I created above about local ministry can lure us into counting something that is not having the impact we imagine. The scope of our ministry does not change the fact that we must count things that really count, in the end.

Over to You

When an organization exists to serve a wider network, how do you measure whether the center is actually helping or just taking up space? How do you know when an operation is effective because it is streamlined, or when it has simply become too emaciated to be worth doing in the first place?

For those of you leading businesses, non-profits, or local churches, how do you keep your organizational “headquarters” lean and focused on the primary mission rather than self-preservation? Or maybe you’ve led in some kind of denominational or “headquarters” type central environment and have seen this temptation at play and had to avoid the danger. I would love to get your take too in the comments.

-DED/KWD/mtf

Please leave a comment. It helps me know your reaction or thinking in response.

Leave a comment

Share this to a friend by text or email. Your recommendation matters most!

Share