If you’re a long-time, faithful church member who doesn’t like the way your church is changing, I have one thing to say to you.
Thank you.
For what? We’ll get to that soon. But first I want to tell you a short story.
My Biggest Cheerleader
Last December, one of only two remaining founding members of our church took sick, then passed away in just over one week’s time. Ron Cook had been a faithful member and leader since the church was planted in 1961. Now his wife, Jean, is the only surviving founding member.
After helping the church through a very tumultuous decade from the early 1980s to the early 90s, he was the chairman of the pulpit search team that brought me in as their pastor in 1992. Shortly after that, Ron permanently stepped down from leadership. “I’ve done my time,” he told me. “The hard decisions will be up to others from now on. I want to be your biggest cheerleader.”
And that’s what he was. Over the next 25 years as I pastored the church, we tried a lot of new things. First, to dig us out of ten-plus years of downward motion, then to build a new way forward. Along the way I made a few good decisions and far too many mistakes.
Ron Cook was there through all of them. Cheering me and the church on with a “great job, pastor!” when I did well, and an encouraging “we’ll get it right next time” when I failed.
Ocassionally, when we tried things that he was uncomfortable with (like getting rid of suits and ties, and moving service times) he’d tell me, “I don’t understand a lot of what’s happening at this church any more, but I do know this. You’re preaching the Bible clearly, young families are finally showing up, and we’re reaching out to the community. That’s good enough for me.”
He never stopped being my cheerleader. And after our pastoral transition he did the same thing for our new pastor, Gary Garcia, for the final six years of Ron’s life.
We miss him every day—especially Sundays.
Thank you, Ron. From all of us.
When Everything But the Message Is Changing
It’s tough when you’ve been in a church for a long time and things start to change. Soon, the church you love may feel like it doesn’t even exist anymore.
So, for all the Ron Cooks out there, I want to say a huge “thank you.”
Your church has changed, but you’ve hung on. Why? Because, like Ron Cook, you’ve seen that the changes are on the surface. The methods and styles are different, but the gospel message is the same. (If your church is compromising the gospel, that’s another situation entirely).
So, for every long-time church member who’s staying and contributing, even while your church goes through changes you don’t understand, here’s my tribute to you . . .
Change Is Hard — Thanks For Staying
Thank you.
Thank you for staying in a church whose
- Music
- Clothes
- Liturgy
- Building
- Service order
- Preaching style
- Sanctuary
- or something else
has changed into something you don’t recognize any more.
Thank you for the heritage you passed on to us that gives us the courage to try new (sometimes stupid) things to see if they work.
Thank you for how much you pray for us.
Thank you for reminding us that the methods can change as long as the message doesn’t.
Thank you for keeping the ship steady when people like me want to rock the boat.
Thank you for the times you want to speak up, but decide it might be best to pray about it for now.
Thank you for the times you need to speak up and do.
Thank you for the times you express your concerns in private, so you can stand with us in public.
Thank you for forgiving us when we blow it.
Thank you for letting us reach higher, because we’re standing on your shoulders.
Thank you for catching us when we fall.
Thank you for doing all of this without getting anything close to the credit you deserve.
For these, and so many other blessings that no article will ever be long enough to express, we thank you.
We couldn’t — and don’t want to — do it without you.
(Photo by zoetnet | Flickr)
