SEP 1 2015 | The Perfectly Imperfect Church

Sea Change Church · "The Perfectly Imperfect Church" · Adam Stadtmiller · September 1, 2015
Automated transcript. Not reviewed for accuracy.

Adam Stadtmiller.com I sat there waiting for the executive pastor to show up. He was 25 minutes late. I'd been asked to interview for a newly created campus pastor position at this well-known and highly effective Orange County megachurch. The lobby was bustling and the waiting easy. There were plenty of flat screens on the walls pumping out the latest worship gigs.

A Keurig station offering dark, bold Sumatran, free Wi-Fi, leather couches, and interior decor that coagulated the best of surf hipster, New York chic, and rustic farmhouse. Stunning. Unfortunately, the few people hustling by did not seem to notice. As I sat there in opulent comfort, my mind flashed back to a church meeting I'd attended in Thailand a decade earlier.

The coffee was instant, the floor seating hard, and the only decor, a faded picture of a brown-eyed Jesus hanging on the cross. The spirit of peace in that place was tangible. It was as if no one was trying, and I mean that in the best of lights. The executive pastor arrived with lavish apologies for his tardiness. A radio interview had gone long.

He was likable, focused, and obviously loved Jesus. Under his arm was a copy of Fast Company magazine. He told me to wait another five minutes and that his assistant would come out and collect me for the meeting. I was offered another coffee. For me, the interview had already ended. I knew we were headed to the same destination, but on different paths.

If there's one thing that I've learned in 20-plus years of leading churches, it's that you can buy a church. Check that. You can buy or create a church experience for your community that will offer them the temptation to think that this church has it all together. It's also a great growth strategy. It allows people to check the box of being part of something that is effective and meaningful.

As a pastor of a small local church and having just come out of 10 years of ministering in a megachurch setting, I feel the pressure to create Fast Church, with all the modern bells and whistles, singing the latest anthems and offering clean, efficient systems to organize people around legitimate spiritual causes. The problem that I face is if I were to go after that, it would not be long before I was the wizard behind the curtain, offering up an illusion of spiritual perfection that would not only be soul-killing for me, but also for those I lead.

It's one thing to talk about messy churches and lives from the pulpit, but it's quite another to actually allow the messiness become part of your church staff, volunteer base, or even organizational systems. What I often see are churches that preach and sing about brokenness and authenticity, but then go out and try to create a church image and culture that presents modern ideals of perfectionism.

And here's what I mean. Would you allow a seriously obese person to be your door greeter? Can we allow someone to stay on staff who's not reaching their targets and goals for one reason or another, believing that sometimes God cares more about your staff as individuals than what they can produce? And can someone be on a worship team that occasionally sings flat, or do heads roll when the PowerPoint or sound is not run with Spielberg perfection?

I believe that when we present authenticity and imperfection from the stage, but don't allow that to play out in the ebb and flow of our church's matrixes and social systems, we're actually creating a culture that never lets people truly be free. In fact, it heaps unseen heavy burdens upon their heads. No, I'm not advocating a sloppy church. Being an A-type control junkie, it pains me to be patient as God grows those I lead.

I see every perceived misstep, off-note, and occasional unedited promotional piece. The thing is that deep down, my desire to present the perfect church has more to do with how I want people to perceive me than trying to offer them a Savior who brought a casual perfection, but never demanded it in return.