The Very Large Church: New Rules for Leaders

222 Pages·2000·0.68 MB·English

by  Lyle E Schaller

THE VERY LARGE CHURCH
Lyle E. Schaller
Abingdon Press
Nashville
Copyright Information
Introduction
In May 1937 I graduated from the Hickory Park Elementary School, a tax-
supported public school located on a one-acre campus three miles south of Lime
Ridge, Wisconsin. The campus included four white wood buildings. The largest
was a one-room (two, if you count the entry area, which also served as the
cloakroom) building that contained 32 desks for students, plus the large teacher’s
desk and a bookcase that contained the 200-volume school library.
The second largest building was a woodshed that contained the supply of
hardwood used to fire the furnace in the school basement. After playing in the
wet snow, standing over that hot air register in the middle of the room was a
memorable way to dry off and warm up. The other two structures were small
privies; the one south of the woodshed was for girls and the one to the north for
boys. The campus also included two steel swings, a softball diamond, a well with
a hand-operated pump, and a dozen trees.
By definition, the teacher’s role was as a generalist who taught all subjects from
art to history to music and spelling, but who also served as the chief
administrator, disciplinarian, coach, custodian, surrogate parent, arbitrator of
disputes, school nurse, playground supervisor, director of the annual Christmas
pageant, and counselor.
For eight years it was, next to the family, the center of life for the 28 to 32
children enrolled in one of the eight grades. That school district, which was an
independent unit of local government, covered an area approximately two miles
by three miles in size that included three dozen farms.
The graduating class of 1934 was taught by the nineteen-year-old son of one of
those families. He had graduated with the eighth graders of 1928 and, therefore,
had been an older schoolmate of some of the class of 1934. After four years in a
nearby high school and a year at the county normal (teacher training) school,
located fifteen miles from his home (but far beyond commuting distance), he
returned to teach for three years at his alma mater. Several years later he earned
his doctorate and became a university professor.
The one-room country school was a wonderful invention! It facilitated peer
learning, encouraged egalitarianism, rewarded merit, modeled respect for
legitimate authority, emphasized the three R’s, and reinforced the need to master
skills in interpersonal relationships. With a typical enrollment between 15 and 32,
it encouraged one-to-one relationships between teacher and learner. It was as
large as a social network can be and still retain the luxuries of intimacy and
simplicity. It also was the ideal institution for socializing the children and
grandchildren of the immigrants from Western Europe into the culture, political
system, economy, language, and labor force of the United States.
It was small enough, in terms of the number of students, for an easy transition
from the family nest into a larger social setting. The typical first grader already
knew a majority of the student body before that scary first day of school.
In 1935, incidentally, the total dollar cost of operating the Hickory Park School
averaged out to approximately $30 per pupil for the year. (That would be the
equivalent of approximately $500 in 2000 terms after allowing for inflation. In
1935, $30 was two weeks’ salary for an experienced elementary school teacher.
In 2000, $500 was two days’ salary for an experienced elementary school
teacher.)
After eight years in that small friendly, supportive, intimate, relatively simple,
easy-to-comprehend, and substantially homogeneous social setting, most of us
entered into a more intimidating, far more complex, less user friendly, more
competitive, and heterogeneous environment called high school.
These institutions typically employed three to ten full-time adults, most of them
specialists who were comfortable explaining what did not fit into their job
description. A few accepted the role of surrogate parent, friend, or counselor, but
usually with only a tiny number of students. English teacher, coach, principal, bus
driver, custodian, and science teacher communicated that they were specialists,
not generalists. Likewise, the grade a pupil was in further fragmented the student
body. In the one-room country school, the fifth and sixth graders frequently
functioned as one class, but in high school, many of the seniors never bothered
to learn to identify all the freshmen and sophomores correctly by name.
The village high school of 1940 operated with a radically different rule book from
the one that was used in the one-room rural school of that day.
That design of the public school system in rural and small-town America was
mirrored by much of American Protestantism. The countryside was covered with
the buildings housing small congregations that averaged 7 to 40 at worship.
Many were able to provide an even more supportive and reassuring social setting
than were those one-room schools. They perpetuated their Western European
heritage by sharpening the distinctive identity with both a denominational and a
nationality image. That is a Norwegian Lutheran parish. That is a German
Evangelical church. That is a Dutch Reformed congregation. That is a Swedish
Methodist church. That is a Welsh Presbyterian church.
The rural and small-town social systems were designed to allow children to move
out of the close intimacy of the family setting into a relatively simple and easy-to-
comprehend elementary school before being challenged to master the skills
required to function effectively in large groups that included more than forty
people.1 It was not until after one’s seventeeth or eighteenth birthday that a
young person was expected to be comfortable in a social setting that included
several hundred to a few thousand people.
Six decades after four of us eighth graders graduated from Hickory Park School,
the public school district west of where we now live constructed a new building. It
is designed to accommodate 800 four-year-old children in the prekindergarten
program offered by that district.
Imagine the experience of a six-year-old starting first grade in a building with 20
to 30 other children, one or two of whom may be siblings, three or four relatives,
and several friends or acquaintances. Compare that with the experience of the
four-year-old entering for the first time into a school building filled with 799 other
four-year-olds plus the scores of adult strangers required to staff that enterprise!
(cid:31) From the Civil War through the Great Depression, American society prepared
children to learn how to live in a world of small institutions that placed a high
value onintimacy, simplicity, small numbers, and mutual support. It was not until
becoming a teenager that one was forced to master the skills required for life in a
more anonymous, complex, and hostile social environment.
From the Civil War through the Great Depression, American society prepared
children to learn how to live in a world of small institutions that placed a high
value on intimacy, simplicity, small numbers, and mutual support. It was not until
becoming a teenager that one was forced to master the skills required for life in a
more anonymous, complex, and hostile social environment. (That generalization
applied not only to the rural United States in the first half of the twentieth century,
but also to many central city neighborhoods, especially those with a high level of
ethnic homogeneity, that also were organized around intimacy, spontaneity,
simplicity, and small private institutions [retail stores, clubs, lodges, service
providers, etc.].)
That culture was comfortable with the small to middle-sized Protestant
congregation averaging fewer than 135 at worship. At this point, it may be worth
noting that in 1929–30, when I was a first grader, there were 150,000 one-
teacher public elementary schools in the United States, down from slightly over
200,000 in 1916. By the time I graduated in 1937, that number had dropped to
125,000, and it plunged to 35,000 in 1956. Today there are fewer than 100 one-
teacher public schools.
In 1930 the 262,000 public schools in the United States enrolled 26 million pupils
in twelve grades, an average of 100 students per school. Seventy years later, the
80,000 public elementary and high schools in America enrolled 48 million
students in grades K–12, an average of 600 per school.
Concurrently, the average (mean) size of a Protestant congregation in the United
States tripled between 1906 and 1996.
As late as the 1950s and 1960s, many denominational ministerial placement
systems operated on the same basic assumption. Regardless of one’s age or
personal history, the best entry point into the pastoral ministry was first to serve a
small single-cell congregation organized around a network of one-to-one
relationships, kin-folk ties, intimacy, simplicity, local traditions,a denominational
identity, and the maintenance of a meeting place. That was widely perceived asa
useful prerequisite to prepare a minister to move on to a large multicell
congregationfilled with complexity, anonymity, and a more highly structured
organizational system.
(cid:31) This new culture organized around big institutions is governed by a different
rule book from that which was used in the old culturecomposed largely of
smallinstitutions.
Why write a book on the role and future of the large church? One reason is that
the culture has been transformed. Instead of preparing children for life in a world
of small institutions, for the past half century the American culture has been
equipping people to live in a world of big institutions. This new culture organized
around big institutions is governed by a different rule book from that which was
used in the old culture composed largely of small institutions.
This autobiographical account illustrates the changing context for ministry as well
as for public education. The educational requirements to be a public school
teacher or a parish pastor are far greater today than they were in the 1930s. The
support system for public schools or for the parish ministry is weaker than it once
was. The era of small institutions has been replaced by a day when most of the
participants are found in the big institutions. The day of the generalist has been
replaced by the demand for specialists. The expectations people project on the
church or the public school are far greater today than formerly. The total annual
compensation for both the parish pastor and the public school teacher has
increased at a faster rate than the increase in per capita income. The public
schools and the parish church are faced with more competition for the loyalty of
their constituents than ever before. The public schools and the churches were
widely viewed as allies and potential partners in the first half of the twentieth
century. By the end of the century, they often were viewed as adversaries. Both
the neighborhood school and the neighborhood church have been placed on the
endangered species list. In recent years, hundreds of books have been published
that are highly critical of contemporary public education or of the contemporary
parish ministry. The schools that train future public school teachers or future
parish pastors often are the subject of condescending comments and ridicule by
many professors in the elite research universities. Newspaper stories about the
public schools or the Christian churches in the large central cities often make
repeated use of the words failure and renewal. Service as a public school
teacher or as a parish pastor, once widely perceived to be a lifelong career, often
is an interlude today between graduation from a professional school and
entrance into the secular labor force. The leaders in public schools and in many
of the denominationally affiliated congregations feel that their work is increasingly
regulated by distant bureaucrats who “do not understand what life is like here in
the trenches.” Both public school systems and ecclesiastical organizations offer a
more attractive reward for administrators than for those who are involved
firsthand in serving the constituency the organization originally was created to
serve. In both vocations a common contemporary comment is, “We are no longer
able to attract the high-quality candidates for our vocation that we once did.” In
both the public schools and the parish churches, the generations born after 1945
want a broader range of choices, and this gives an unprecedented advantage to
the large institutions. In the typical community, the role of public school teacher
or parish pastor does not bring with it the automatic respect and deference it
once carried. Much of what volunteers did in earlier decades is now being done
by paid staff.
The reader can add another dozen examples of how the societal context has
changed for both the public schools and the parish ministry. In both areas of life,
however, the basic point is the same. The past several decades have been
marked by an unprecedented degree of discontinuity with the past. Part of that
discontinuity is reflected in the new rule book on how to do church in the new
millennium.
This autobiographical account also is offered to illustrate two other points. The
first is the ambivalence felt by many of us who grew up in a culture dominated by
small social institutions. Our hearts are with the small school, the small church,
the “Mom and Pop” grocery store, the one-screen motion picture theater, the
physician in solo practice working out of his house, the corner druggist, and the
family farm. Our heads, however, tell us that the future is with the large complex
and anonymous institutions, such as the thirty-screen motion picture theater, the
medical clinic with a staff of forty or more physicians, the three-acre building
housing that new home supply and hardware store, the 100,000-square-foot
supermarket, and the megachurch averaging over a thousand in worship every
week. We are torn between what we like and what meets our needs. Earlier in
life we learned how to be comfortable with the old rule book. Now we are being
told we must follow a new set of rules.
Second, while the future is filled with uncertainty, most of the contemporary
evidence suggests that the people born after 1965, who were socialized into
adulthood in a culture dominated by big institutions, will outlive those born before
1945 who carry happy firsthand memories of a culture dominated by small
institutions. In planning for the future of your congregation, do you expect most of
your new members in the 2000–2020 era will be people born before 1945 or after
1965?
For those who want to be advised of the central thesis of a book before deciding
whether to read it, this volume has three. One is the need for more very large
congregations if the goal is to confront the generations born after 1965 with the
truth and relevance of the Christian gospel. The second is that it requires an
affirmation of the fact that the megachurch is not simply an overgrown version of
a big congregation averaging 450 to 700 at worship--it is a sharply different order
of God’s creation! That is why a new rule book is needed.
Third, while the first half of the twentieth century was supportive of small
institutions, the early years of the third millennium provide a context that is
supportive of big institutions. The most important single component of this new
context often is described as consumerism. Consumerism has changed the rules
of the game!
A simple way to describe this is that the small churches, those averaging fewer
than a hundred at worship, play by their own rules on their distinctive playing
field. Another 40-plus percent, those averaging 100 to 700 at worship, use a
different rule book that is appropriate for their playing field. The 3 to 5 percent
that either average 800 or more at worship or have the potential to be in that size
bracket use the most recent edition of a different rule book and play on a much
larger field that is not restricted by geographical boundaries.
This book was written for those congregational leaders, both volunteer and paid
staff, who recognize that their old rule book is obsolete and who are eager to
learn how to participate effectively in the very large church game on a playing
field that is defined by the culture, the societal context, clearly defined
expectations, a theological belief system, a passion for evangelism, a high level
of competence, creativity, innovation, and a new and different set of rules, rather
than by local traditions or geographical boundaries or yesterday’s stereotypes.
The new millennium has brought a new game to town that requires the players to
master a new rule book.
Chapter One--Culture, Size, and Certainty
What is the crucial difference between, on the one hand, the United States Army,
the United States Air Force, and the United States Navy, and, on the other hand,
the United States Marine Corps? According to military journalist Thomas E.
Ricks, the answer is in the cultures.1 To a substantial degree, the Army, the Air
Force, and the Navy are organized around their “toys” and the training of people
to use these toys. These include battleships, tanks, air-to-ground missiles, fighter
planes, submarines, helicopters, strategies for fighting two wars concurrently,
bombers, weapons carriers, doctrines, and rules.
By contrast, the Marine Corps is organized around a deep and rich culture that
has “a deep anchor in [its] own history and mythology.” Ricks adds that “the
Marines stand out as a successful and healthy institution that unabashedly
teaches values...to the bottom half of American society.”2 The rule book used by
the Marine Corps is consistent with the culture.
After hitting the bottom in the 1970s in terms of morale, quality of recruits, and
race relations, Ricks contends, the Marines have rebounded and now stand out
as the best of the four branches of the American military services. That rebound
is due in large measure to a renewed emphasis on doing what they do best.
Instead of begging for more money to buy new toys, the Marines have exploited
their culture--values, assumptions, and traditions--to transform recruits into
Marines and individuals into cohesive and effective fighting units. This emphasis
on culture and values is reflected in the themes emphasized by the Marine Corps
in recruiting volunteers. The other three branches of the military services focus
on consumerism--What’s in it for me if I enlist? Technical training? Educational
benefits? Early retirement? An excellent pension system? Travel? By contrast,
the Marines focus on challenging recruits to fulfill their potential.
The culture of the Marine Corps includes projecting high expectations on both
recruits and units, the transmission of values (honor, courage, faithfulness,
commitment, fidelity, and integrity), minimizing racial and social class differences,
the integration of those values into a way of life, and an acceptance of the fact
that some will drop out, but that does not justify lowering the standards.
THE HIGH-EXPECTATION CULTURE
What are the basic differences between the typical American Protestant
congregation of today and those churches that project high expectations of
anyone who wants to become a full member? One answer is in the cultures.
As the decades roll by, the culture of the typical congregation increasingly
reflects local traditions, the values, priorities in ministry, the expectations of what
the future will bring shared by the committee members (who may have died
seventy years ago) responsible for the design of the meeting place, the
theological stance, and priorities of one or two long-tenured pastors, the
expectations brought by the most influential contemporary volunteer leaders, and
the doctrine and polity of that religious tradition. Taking good care of today’s
members, transmitting the faith to the next generation, balancing expenditures
with income, maintaining the real estate, perpetuating local customs, and seeking
replacements for the members who leave become high priorities. Among the
other goals are enlisting volunteers, encouraging members to be better stewards
of both time and money, and persuading people to attend special events and to
contribute money for missions.
The natural, normal, and predictable institutional tendency is to create a new
worshiping community to proclaim the gospel to the unchurched. But gradually
the emphasis shifts to a focus on how to persuade people to be more supportive
of that congregation.
The culture of the high-expectation churches tends to resemble thatof the Marine
Corps. The initial focus is on persuading the non-believer of the relevance and
truth of the Christian faith. The culture of the Marines includes the basic
assumption that “every recruit...has the ability to become a United States
Marine.” The culture of the high-expectation church includes the basic
assumption that every human being can and should become a fully devoted
follower of Jesus Christ.
(cid:31) The culture of the high-expectation churches tends to resemble that of the
Marine Corps. The initial focus is on persuading the nonbeliever of the relevance
and truth of the Christian faith. The culture of the Marines includes the
basicassumption that “every recruit...has the ability to become a United States
Marine.” The culture of the high-expectation church includes the basic
assumption that every human being can and should become a fully devoted
followerof Jesus Christ.
The training program for prospective Marines includes the assumption that
recruits must be transformed from isolated, consumer-driven, and self-centered
individuals into warriors as the first step in the sequence. Next they must learn to
identify with a unit and automatically act in the best interests of that unit, rather
than in their own self-interest. That transformation requires time; the following of
a tested discipline; emphasis on the challenge of meeting high expectations and
doing what they know is beyond their capabilities; participation in a mutual
support system; integration into the assumptions, beliefs, and values of the
Marine culture; and leads eventually to acceptance as a full member of that
special set-apart group.
The Marine Corps has been especially successful with recruits who come from
the lower socio-educational-economic half of the young adult population.