On Putting "Butts in Seats" and Other Pastoral Problems

If we have to sacrifice our convictions of what is good and right to maintain our numbers, we must ask deep questions about the worthiness of what we are striving to maintain.

Whether you like President Trump or not, the cultural and political tidal wave of MAGA unquestionably creates a quandary for pastors and churches in how we communicate the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

One would think the battle lines (a term that saddens and deflates the spirit for sure) are pretty much drawn at this point. But slow down, Sparky. We’ve only just begun with the conflicts and disruptions.

The abrupt dismissal of the pastor at Myers Park Baptist is a solid indicator of that.

While the story contains a ton of issues to address, I want to focus on a single sentence. Commenting on the dismissal Myers Park deacon offered key reason for the board’s actions: "We have got to put more butts in the seats, butts in the seats," he said.

Butts in the seats. Let that sink in. Reading that comment raised the hair on the back of my neck.

Honestly, I would not have preached Pastor Boswell’s sermon. I hold zero judgment about him preaching his convictions, but it is not the route I would take. Even if I was preaching at Myers Park, a congregation historically known for radical stances on social/political issues.

That said, if our goal is to find someone who preaches to get “butts in the seats,” we may be doing it wrong. “Butts in the seats” is code for “We need to maintain the institution” or “We need money to pay our bills.” Or “Why aren’t we getting as many butts in the seats as Church Y or Church Z down the street?”

Make no mistake: as someone who makes part of my living in church world, paying the bills sounds pretty nice. The institution is important. People in seats are important.

But when these become the main thing, then we have lost sight of the main thing.

If this is where we are, then we have abandoned hope in favor of feasibility. Jesus offers a Gospel of hope, not one of self-preservation. Christ’s message will offend and interfere in our lives, even if it is preached with a softer and more diplomatic tone.

My preaching is not like Pastor Boswell or other more radical messengers that I deeply respect. At the same time, preaching “Everything’s fine!” is the equivalent of playing the fiddle while Rome burns. The message is not intended to keep people happy and comfy. If preaching is not making SOME incursion into the hearts and lives of people as well as the cultural climate, then what are we even doing here?

Here’s the thing: we don’t need to be pointing and saying “scoreboard” about our churches. This is not the NFL or NBA or even a Trump rally. Our purpose evolves from greater meaning and a higher calling than maintaining the status quo.

At its heart, the good news and example of Jesus Christ are intended to interfere (and sometimes offend) until our lives are changed. We may not like it, but it should compel us to take action—and such action may not always put “butts in the seats.” Our purpose is found in the doing, not in winning the community popularity contest.

I sometimes listen to and interact with Professor Dan Miller of Landmark College. He makes the point that Christians are what we do, not what we say. This phrase hits home now, perhaps more than ever. If we exist to count heads on Sunday morning, then we are likely not doing much. A community of faith is created and built on a foundation Christ-centered action, not just stacking up stats.

I close this out with a note about church growth and what truly matters in Christ-centered community. I pastor a small church of 30 (40 on a “crowded” Sunday). They are just a wonderful, committed community trying to figure out how to be the presence of Christ in Six Mile, SC (and yes, that’s a real town). They are working to do all that they can to make that obvious.

This merry band could probably up the attendance by doing more popular things or taking stances in line with the prevailing religious and political sentiments of their surroundings. But they are choosing to follow the guidance of the Spirit despite the opportunity to make the numbers look better.

For every megachurch and mega pastor (or perhaps megalomaniac pastor), there are 100+ churches like mine. These communities are both flawed and faithful, sometimes merely surviving and occasionally thriving. But they stay with it, holding to their calling despite pity or judgment of those who think the scoreboard is all that matters.

Is this how we define our purpose as church?

Find those things that are worthy of your faithfulness and finitude. As you search for these, recognize that a loving, gracious, faithful community might be far more important than a big, maintenance-minded congregation.

After all, at one time Nickelback put a lot of butts in the seats. At one time they were popular, but that does not make them good. If we have to sacrifice our convictions of what is good and right to maintain our numbers, we must ask deep questions about the worthiness of what we are striving to maintain.