I remember the first day of Dr. Larry Hughes’ class, Introduction to Ministry, very well. Barely a week after I had arrived as a baby-faced freshman at what was then Bartlesville Wesleyan College, the class convened in a small room which was home to several musical instruments which had been stored there for years by the music department which generally met next door; a number of old bookshelves filled with the school’s entire music library; and a massive table, dark stained, and rather ornate in design. Probably twenty feet in length, six in width, the table dominated the small room, leaving really nothing more than a narrow walkway around the perimeter such that, if you found yourself seated at the far end, you had better pray you didn’t need a restroom break before the conclusion of the class.
Truth be told, the table made the room precisely the right space for such a class: with its top constructed of a single, apparently solid slab of wood, it was exactly the sort of table one would expect to find in a medieval monastery. But honestly, the table had nothing to do with why I remember that first day of class so well.
I remember the table and everything else about that day because of the question that Dr. Hughes asked just minutes into that first day of that first class of my ministerial preparation: “How were you called to ministry?” And I remember the puzzlement, followed by shock, followed by horror, as student after student answered the question with answers that were starkly different than my own.
I mean, I didn’t really expect every story to be exactly the same as mine, but I was, frankly, stunned to find just how different some of them were. There were a couple called to be missionaries. One called to be a Bible teacher and professor. And then there were about ten called to be youth pastors. One called to be a worship pastor. And as the last person shared, I realized that, of the fifteen or so students in the room, I was the only one called to pastor a small church.
Moreover, four years later, when that cadre of ministry students graduated and headed off to ministry, to my knowledge, I was the only one that went into a small church. Outside of the few missionaries and a couple that went on to even more education so they could become college professors and such, all of the others headed for staff positions. Or found other jobs to keep them busy until they found staff positions.
For a time, I thought it was because I was special. Someone I greatly respect told me that I was exceptionally mature and grounded for my age, so I was the only one qualified for solo ministry right out of school. But none of the others even tried to become solo pastors.
Then I thought I was proud. Was I not humble enough to accept a staff position to learn and grow as a minister? But before I was invited to candidate at a small church, I seriously contemplated a couple of staff positions that were offered to me. And besides, I was – and am – learning too many lessons to think that I was Superpastor or Mr. Wizard or something. And just in case I entertained such thoughts anyway, it was only a matter of minutes before I was reminded of the megachurch down the road that was “successful” in comparison to the tiny little flock which I was charged to shepherd.
So I decided I was weird. For some reason – perhaps a lack of ambition or vision, or maybe a buried masochistic streak? – of all my classmates, I was the only one willing to go to a small church and serve as a solo pastor.
The problem is, after ten years as a solo pastor, I’m beginning to realize that I was right. I was weird.
More than that, though, I am weird.
A 2007 article entitled “My Students: The Coming Wave in the Church” by author, theologian, and associate professor Keith Drury (http://www.drurywriting.com/keith/my.students.htm) explores the mindset of the students in the ministry classes he teaches at Indiana Wesleyan University, noting a number of significant tidbits:
- “They are products of youth pastors.” That is, their example of a minister and ministry is a staff pastor doing specialized ministry.
- “I have never seen more hard workers than this crop of students, especially when they are doing a project in a group.” In other words, they excel in working in together but have a hard time being self-starters.
- “Most expect to get settled in life and ease into life by age 30.” I.e., they don’t think themselves ready to settle their calling and establish what they’re going to do for the rest of their lives until they hit 30, not 22 or 24.
- “They don’t seek a job ‘where the pastor leaves me alone’ but want plenty of structure and mentoring.” Translate that, they expect a supervisor to tell them what to do, when to do it, and how to do it.
- “The last study we did showed our [ministry] students came from larger churches—the median home church was 700.” In other words, they’re not from small churches (<100) or even medium ones (100-500). They’re from large churches.
And then Drury drops this: “They not only expect to serve with a church staff, they expect to have a staff. In my sophomore class when I assign them to develop a church program to promote one-to-one mentoring, they often assume they’ll have a staff to do the work! Really!” (Emphasis his).
Remember, this is in an article about the “prominent characteristics of [Drury's] students.” In short, the next wave of ministers comes from large churches and expects to work in large churches. Because large churches are normal.
Except that they’re not. While a majority of church attenders attend medium and large churches, the majority of churches are actually fairly small, with an estimated 60% coming in at less than 100 in average worship attendance (http://hirr.hartsem.edu/research/fastfacts/fast_facts.html#sizecong).
And so we have come to a curious situation. Our colleges and seminaries are churning out more graduates with ministry degrees than ever before. In July 2010, the Presbyterian Church (USA) reported 2,271 clergy seeking positions but only 532 vacancies (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/05/06/from-clergy-shortage-to-c_n_566934.html). In my own denomination, I know of several people who have been forced to take secular jobs to pay the bills while they keep searching for an elusive staff position. And yet small churches routinely go months without a pastor because they can’t find anyone who will take the job.
Indeed, there is a crisis looming in small churches across America which will eventually reach cataclysmic proportions, ultimately impacting even the largest congregations both in the US and around the world. We’re about to have a critical shortage of pastors for small churches.
The only solution to the problem is for small churches to step up and raise their own crop of ministers convinced of the viability and import of small churches.
So for a few weeks (or months, however long it takes), I’m going to be exploring how we might do this very thing. If you have any comments or insights, I would very much welcome them in the comments section below or at my personal email, jrgeerdes@gmail.com.
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