Leading change in the church
A veteran of church extension reflects on how “church planting” methods once felt like a revolution—and how, decades later, change still tastes better than expected. With humor and honesty, the piece encourages younger leaders to be patient with older skeptics. Beneath the scowls, there’s often real appreciation.
- New methods can feel disruptive at first, even when they prove fruitful.
- Experience can create a desire for stability—without slipping into paralysis.
- Older leaders may resist outwardly while quietly valuing bold leadership.
From “church extension” to church planting
When I first entered the world of “church extension” back in the 1980s, there was a young buck named Rick Warren in Southern California who had seen his church grow to 250 overnight. He coined a more organic description for our work—church planting. We flocked to Pasadena and put up with Pete Wagner talking about having been healed of his leg-length discrepancy, just to hear Warren fire us up with the new methods he employed.
When I got back to New York, weathered veterans cast weary glances. “So, church planting huh? I guess that means you’ll be buying a riding mower, now that you are a landscaper?” But we made changes anyway and new churches popped up like dandelions. We were young, excited, and unreflective. Kierkegaard said reflection is usually the death of passion, and we did not want to lose our passion. We fully embraced change, no matter how tumultuous.
It is now 25 years later and I am no longer enamored with change. Now I want stability. The problem is the only reliable path to stability is paralysis, and paralysis is seldom a good idea.
When change tastes better than expected
When I was a child I refused each new food pushed under my nose. When assorted tactics would finally open the “hangar” for touchdown, I found I actually liked the applesauce, or the macaroni and cheese, or the brussels sprouts. Well OK, not the brussels sprouts.
What goes around comes around, and now my second childhood has arrived. I keep my lips tightly shut when some 30-year-old tries to pry open my mouth for a taste of something new. We don’t need no stinkin’ new methods, I’m thinking. But when he finally gets the hangar door open, I like what I taste!
A note to younger leaders
Young people take note. Here is how it works. First, those over 50 will be greatly appreciative when you ask our opinion about changes you want to implement. Then we will threaten to draw and quarter you when those changes actually occur.
But remember this. The scowls on our faces belie a deeper truth. We do in fact like the changes you have implemented, but we cannot show our approval because a deeper principle is at stake—our need to appear grumpy. We have worked hard for our right to grumpiness, and it will not be quickly relinquished.
So give us time. Be patient. Eventually you will see the corners of our mouths curl ever so slightly upward and you will know the truth. We are very glad you are here and you are leading with boldness.
Author: Christian Standard
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