You don’t complain about church. That’s one of the things I like about you. That and your breath. It’s delightful. What is that? The black Dentyne gum that is so minty fresh it lights your tongue on flavor with freshness? I thought so.
You’re not a complainer. The moment you get in the car to drive to church, you shut off your desire to complain. You don’t cut people off on the way to church and, upon arriving, you walk in, worship, leave and go home without a negative word. You’ve never complained about Sunday School or how the kids program is run.
I have, though. I used to complain about the traffic at a church I attended. Which, by the way, is the opposite of the Great Commission. “Urgh! I hate this traffic in the church parking lot! All these people coming to worship God and have their hearts transformed! So frustrating. Who keeps making these disciples?”
That’s a topic for another post. But, in addition to complaining about the traffic, I also complained about the volunteers who were directing it. I’d get all grumpy how our row of cars was getting ignored while the volunteer in the vest kept waving out people who hadn’t been waiting nearly as long as us.
Sermons about grace and compassion would roll right off my back like something even slipperier than water off a duck’s back. You thought I was going to say “water,” but sometimes I shake a sermon even faster than that.
But then I learned a pretty powerful truth about church volunteers that forever changed my habit of complaining. Something that I hope you’ll keep in your pocket for the next time someone complains about a ministry or a program or an anything at your church.
Here it is:
Never complain about something at church you’re not willing to volunteer for.
That’s it. I couldn’t complain about how the traffic at church was directed if I was unwilling to volunteer for traffic duty. I couldn’t get frustrated at how the volunteer in front of our car was weaving the lanes if I wasn’t willing and able to get out of bed early, stand in the freezing cold on some days, and direct hundreds of cars out of the parking lot.
So if you don’t feel like your kid is learning anything in Sunday School, volunteer.
If you wish they did more for single adults at your church, volunteer.
If you hope Vacation Bible School is better than last year, volunteer.
If you wish your church did a better job of welcoming new people, volunteer.
This principle works like a charm. Except if you’ve got a problem with the music or the minister. You can’t just volunteer to give your own sermon next week if, while critiquing the sermon at Sunday lunch, you realize you are complaining. You can’t just bring your own instrument next Sunday and volunteer to play if you feel like worship is incredibly tambourine deficient. That’s what a man in his 70s did one Sunday at my dad’s church. He literally got out of his seat, walked to the front, stood beside the worship leader during one of the songs, and started tambourining.
So don’t do that. But, when it comes to just about everything else, remember:
Never complain about something at church you’re not willing to volunteer for.
Question:
Have you ever volunteered at your church?
