
Look two years down the road at your church. Somebody who fills a role that matters right now won't be filling it then. That leader will move, wear out, step back for a season, or God will send them somewhere else.
Say it's the woman who’s taught the same third-grade Sunday school class for six years, the one you never worry about because you've never had to. Then her husband’s job moves them in the spring, and she tells you on a Sunday morning between services.
At that point you'll do one of two things. You'll scramble, begging somebody else to take the class, or even teaching it yourself. Or you'll turn to a person who has been quietly getting ready for the last year and a half, and hand it to them.
Which of those happens has mostly already been decided. It gets decided in ordinary weeks like this one.
I was still a teenager when Dr. W.C. Bryant hired me to lead the youth ministry at First Baptist Church of Norwalk. I had no track record. There was nothing on my résumé that could tell him I'd be able to do the job, because I hadn't done anything yet.
Here's what he said to me: "I wouldn't have invited you to be a part of this staff if I didn't trust you. The very fact that I trust you means you are free to do whatever it takes to get the job done. I will back you 100 percent."
I would have charged hell with a squirt gun for that man.
That year we baptized more than 100 students. It wasn't because I was gifted. It was because we tried things that had never been done before, and I knew that if they flopped, he wasn't going to drop me.
Notice what he did. He didn't give me the youth ministry because I had proved I could handle it. He gave it to me so I could find out. The proof of trust isn't what you say about somebody in a staff meeting; it's what you're willing to put in their hands.
Paul trusted Timothy the same way. He sent that young man to represent him to the church at Philippi, confident that Timothy would care for those people and bring word back to him: "I hope in the Lord Jesus to send Timothy to you soon, that I also may be cheered when I receive news about you. I have no one else like him, who will show genuine concern for your welfare" (Philippians 2:19-20 NIV). If you don't trust someone, you don't have confidence in them. And without confidence, nothing of real value ever gets done.
Mistrust creates stagnation. If you wait for proof before you trust somebody with real responsibility, you'll wait forever; the only place that proof can come from is the responsibility you're withholding.
So the same four people carry everything. Your most reliable volunteers get more tired, the willing ones out on the edges never get asked, and the bench stays empty. Then a chair opens up and there's nobody standing behind it, not because your church is short on people but because nobody was ever handed anything they could fail at.
In my years at Saddleback I told our staff I wanted everybody making at least one good mistake a week. As long as it wasn't the same mistake twice.
That sounds careless until you think about the alternative. When nobody in a ministry is making mistakes, it usually means nobody is attempting anything. If there are no mistakes, there's no creativity, and people will only be as creative as you allow them to be.
Everybody makes mistakes, and Scripture is clear about it: "For though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again" (Proverbs 24:16 NIV). Even a righteous man falls, and he falls more than once. What marks him is that he gets back up. Every volunteer and staff member in your church will need to do the same thing.
Somebody once asked Thomas Edison about the 200 chemicals he had tried that didn't work: Wasn't all of that a failure? "No," he said. "I've had an education." Don't call it a failure. Call it an education.
We did more things at Saddleback that didn't work than things that did. I would rather attempt something and fail than attempt nothing and succeed.
So when the new teacher you handed that class to tries something and it lands flat, you have a decision to make that morning. You can treat it as evidence you moved too soon, or you can treat it as tuition on a leader your church is going to need. Leave her free to keep trying, and she may end up teaching that class better than you would have taught it.
Don't wait for a vacancy to make you develop somebody. Pick one person this month, maybe the man who sets up chairs or the woman who always fills in at the nursery in a pinch. Then hand them something new, a class or a team, for example. Something with their name on it that they could genuinely do badly.
Then tell them what Dr. Bryant told me: “I trust you. You're free to do whatever it takes, and I'll back you.” Say that last part out loud, because they will not assume it.
The bench you'll wish you had in two years is the one you start building this week.