For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus as Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus’ sake. (2 Corinthians 4:5)
One of the most surprising things I observed while I was assigned to a number of senior Army headquarters was just how much time and energy went into convincing Congress and the American people that our organization was the greatest thing since sliced bread. We were important. We accomplished great and necessary things. Our organizational existence was vital to the well-being of the nation. Our contributions to the national welfare were worth far more than they cost, so don’t cut our budget. Yea, us!
I was even more surprised to see this same thing when I went to work for a senior administrative unit of my church. Just substitute “the mission of the church” for “the well-being of the nation” in the paragraph above.
At one point, my denominational employer hired new marketing specialists, product managers, and innovation officers, despite the need to cut 25% of the productive staff overall. When one of the new product managers was touring the building (and they were all very nice folks), I asked her what product she was managing. Everything we did, I learned, was a product to be managed and marketed. It reminded me of Bonhoeffer’s quip about grace being sold “like cheapjack’s wares.” I did not think of my form of Christian service as a product to be marketed.
My denomination’s most famous advertising slogan came into existence in 2001. This is the message that we wanted the world to hear over and over: “We are not hard hearted or close minded or unwelcoming (like those other churches).” What were we promoting? The completed work of Jesus? The ongoing work of the Holy Spirit? The way of salvation? The kingdom of God? No, ourselves!
Denominational self-promotion is not evangelism. All our campaigns seem to lift up our own institutional existence. “You don’t like church? Our church is different than the one you don’t like.” We are looking for market-share (and it’s not working very well).
Most recently, the denominational marketers even gave us a hashtag campaign. In five letters, the hashtag exhorts the reader to “be” a member of our denomination. The campaign, aimed at existing members of the church, extols the benefits of remaining a member, and features testimonials of people who just love being one of us.
I honestly can’t recall seeing any other Christian denomination marketing itself this way. The closest I can come is the Catholic “Come Home” campaign where the goal is to encourage inactive Catholics to renew their practice of the faith. That is quite a different goal.
Many years ago, I met an evangelistic pastor who told me that he collected informational brochures from all the churches in his community so that he could share them with his neighbors. As he knocked on doors, he not only talked with people about Jesus, he helped learn about the churches in the area. He encouraged those who came to Christ to join and become active a local church where they could grow in Christ. Some joined his church. Others returned to churches where they had roots. Still others joined churches where they had friends or family, or felt more at home for other reasons. He rejoiced when people came to Jesus (or returned to him) and took their place among the people of God, no matter what the sign on the church door said.
It’s not that all congregations or denominations are the same or equally in-tune with the gospel, but people will figure out who you are as they get to know you, and discern for themselves whether God is calling them to become (or remain) members of your particular community.
The Apostle Paul said, “We preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus as Lord.” When John Wesley sent Thomas Coke to America, he famously said, “Offer them Christ.” That should be the church’s first, last, and loudest message. Promote Jesus, not yourself.
Offer them Christ. Tell the story of God’s saving work. Lift high the name of Jesus who alone delivers us from sin, death, and the devil. The gospel of self-promotion is no gospel at all.
Mitchell Lewis 