如果說，第八篇所談的是，重要的事情需要慢下來；第九篇所談的是，領導不只是作決定，而是塑造群體；那麼，一個十分現實的問題便自然浮現：當一間教會已經有自己的章程、委員會和既定文化時，我們究竟應該如何開始改變？
畢竟，大部分教會都不是白紙一張。許多教會已經走過數十年的歷史，也累積了自己的制度、習慣和運作方式。因此，當人們談論更新時，很容易首先想到修改章程、重組架構、增減委員會，或者重新分配權責。然而，回顧教會歷史，我愈來愈覺得，真正困難的地方，往往不在於制度，而在於文化。
制度固然重要，但制度本身並不能自動產生共同辨識。即使擁有完善的委員會、透明的程序、公平的投票和清晰的架構，也不代表群體自然懂得一起尋求神。相反，若文化沒有改變，再好的制度，也可能逐漸變成例行公事。人仍然只是等待少數人提供答案，委員會仍然只是交換意見，投票仍然只是決定誰的聲音比較大，而不是整個群體一起學習聆聽神。
事實上，十九世紀以後，許多北美教會受到工業化和現代組織管理的影響，逐漸發展出各種委員會制度和功能分工。正如 H. Richard Niebuhr 所觀察，現代社會的組織思維深深影響了教會，使教會愈來愈傾向以效率和功能來理解自己。¹ 這些制度本身並沒有問題，也曾經為教會帶來不少幫助。然而，當制度慢慢取代了群體生活，會議便可能愈來愈有效率，卻不一定愈來愈懂得共同尋求神。
同樣地，Edwin Friedman 也提醒我們，焦慮中的群體很容易尋找快速的解決方法，並且誤以為只要調整結構，問題便會自然消失。² 因此，每當教會遇見困難時，我們首先想到的，往往是重新分工、修改章程、增加或減少委員會，甚至尋找一位更有能力的領袖。然而，真正需要更新的，很多時候並不是制度，而是整個群體的文化。
也正因如此，我愈來愈相信，委員會文化的更新，往往不是從革命開始，而是從陪伴開始。
很多時候，人們希望一次過改變所有事情，希望用新的制度取代舊的制度。然而，文化的形成需要時間，文化的更新也同樣需要時間。真正持久的改變，很少是推倒重來，而是透過一些新的習慣，慢慢在群體裡建立新的可能。
例如，在面對重要議題時，領袖是否願意在事情尚未成熟之前，便讓群體一起參與思考，而不是等到方案完成之後才尋求支持？在方向形成之前，是否願意先一起查考聖經、一起禱告，而不是先完成計劃，再邀請神為我們的決定祝福？當不同聲音出現時，是否願意給彼此多一點時間，而不是急於結束討論？這些看似微小的習慣，其實都在慢慢塑造群體。
又例如，執事會在開始討論議程之前，是否願意先用十五至二十分鐘一起查考聖經，並思想今天所面對的問題，與神的話有什麼關係？教牧團隊在面對重要方向時，是否願意預留一段安靜禱告和分享的時間，而不是急於尋找方案？涉及聘牧、架構改革、下一代承接和教會未來方向等重大議題時，是否一定需要在一次會議中完成討論？還是可以容許群體經過幾次聚集，在資訊分享、聆聽、禱告和反思之中，慢慢形成共識？
其實，很多重要的事情，本來就不適合在一次會議裡完成。第一次聚集，也許主要是分享資訊和初步想法；第二次聚集，才開始聆聽彼此的顧慮和不同的聲音；第三次聚集，則可能是一起禱告、重新思想，讓前兩次所聽見的內容慢慢沉澱。很多時候，真正深層的問題，往往不是第一次就能被看見，而是在一次又一次的等待之中，才逐漸浮現。
然而，共同辨識不只是會議技巧，它更需要信任。若一群人彼此不認識，只剩下工作上的合作，那麼共同辨識最後很容易變成政治角力。當彼此之間缺乏生命連結，人們便容易保護自己的部門、自己的事工和自己的想法。於是，會議最後可能只剩下資訊交換、立場協調和權力平衡，而不是一起尋求神。或許正因如此，有時候，一起吃飯、一起禱告、一起分享生命，看似與會議無關，卻可能比修改章程更加重要。因為真正的共同辨識，從來不是建立在制度之上，而是建立在關係之上。
最終來說，會議不是目的，制度也不是目的。真正重要的，不是我們擁有多少委員會，也不是能否找到一套完美的架構，而是這些制度，是否仍然幫助我們一起尋求神。因此，也許當我們下一次走進會議室時，最值得先問的問題，不是：「今天需要完成多少議程？」而是：「我們所建立的文化，究竟正在幫助我們更懂得一起聆聽神？還是只是讓我們更有效率地完成事情？」
而文化的更新，往往不是從革命開始，而是從一群人願意一起慢慢學習開始。
Antony傳道
註腳
1. H. Richard Niebuhr, The Social Sources of Denominationalism (New York: Henry Holt, 1929).
2. Edwin H. Friedman, A Failure of Nerve: Leadership in the Age of the Quick Fix (New York: Church Publishing, 2007).
Rethinking the Church through Baptist Tradition, History, and Theology (Practical Reflections)
Part 10 - When Structures Already Exist, How Do We Begin to Change?
Renewing Committee Culture Does Not Necessarily Begin with Revolution
If the eighth article suggested that important things need to slow down, and the ninth reminded us that leadership is not merely about making decisions but about shaping communities, then a very practical question naturally arises: when a church already has its constitution, committees, and established culture, how do we begin to change?
After all, most churches are not blank slates. Many congregations have journeyed through decades of history and have accumulated their own structures, habits, and ways of operating. Consequently, when people speak of renewal, they often think first of revising constitutions, reorganizing structures, adding or removing committees, or redistributing responsibilities. Yet the more I reflect on church history, the more I have come to believe that the deepest challenges are rarely structural.
More often, they are cultural.
Structures certainly matter. Yet structures themselves do not automatically produce communal discernment. A church may possess well-designed committees, transparent procedures, fair voting processes, and clearly defined responsibilities, and still not know how to seek God together.
Indeed, if the culture remains unchanged, even the best structures can slowly become little more than routines.
People continue waiting for a few individuals to provide answers.
Committees become places where opinions are exchanged rather than hearts are formed.
Voting becomes a way of determining whose voice carries more weight rather than a practice through which the whole community gradually grows in listening to God together.
In fact, from the nineteenth century onward, many North American churches were deeply influenced by industrialization and modern organizational thinking, gradually developing elaborate committee systems and functional divisions. As H. Richard Niebuhr observed, the organizational mindset of modern society profoundly shaped the church, leading it to understand itself increasingly in terms of efficiency and function.¹
These structures were not inherently problematic, and they have undoubtedly served churches well in many ways.
Yet when structures slowly replace communal life, meetings may become increasingly efficient without necessarily becoming more discerning.
Similarly, Edwin Friedman reminds us that anxious communities are often tempted to seek quick fixes and to assume that changing structures will automatically solve deeper problems.² Consequently, whenever churches encounter difficulties, our first instinct is often to redistribute responsibilities, revise constitutions, add or eliminate committees, or even search for a more capable leader.
Yet what truly requires renewal is often not the structure itself.
It is the culture of the community.
For this reason, I have increasingly come to believe that the renewal of committee culture rarely begins with revolution.
More often, it begins with patiently walking together.
People often hope to change everything at once, replacing old systems with new ones. Yet culture takes time to form, and culture also takes time to renew. Lasting change rarely comes through tearing everything down and starting over.
More often, it emerges through new habits that slowly create new possibilities within a community.
For example, when important issues arise, are leaders willing to invite the community into the process before matters have fully matured, rather than seeking support only after proposals have already been finalized?
Before directions are established, are they willing to study Scripture and pray together, rather than completing plans first and then asking God to bless decisions that have already been made?
When differing voices emerge, are people willing to give one another more time, rather than rushing to bring discussions to an end?
These seemingly small habits quietly shape the life of a community.
Consider, for instance, whether a board of deacons might spend fifteen or twenty minutes studying Scripture together before turning to the agenda, asking how God’s Word speaks to the issues before them.
When pastoral teams face important decisions, might they intentionally reserve time for silence, prayer, and mutual sharing instead of immediately searching for solutions?
And when churches wrestle with matters such as pastoral searches, structural reforms, passing the faith to the next generation, or discerning the future direction of the church, must everything be decided in a single meeting?
Or could the community be allowed to gather several times, moving gradually through information-sharing, listening, prayer, and reflection before consensus begins to emerge?
In truth, many important matters are not meant to be resolved in a single meeting.
The first gathering may simply be a time for sharing information and initial thoughts.
The second may allow people to voice their concerns and hear different perspectives.
By the third gathering, the community may find itself praying together and revisiting what has already been heard, allowing earlier conversations to settle and mature.
Very often, the deepest issues are not visible at the beginning.
They emerge only through repeated seasons of waiting.
Yet communal discernment requires more than meeting techniques.
It requires trust.
For when people do not truly know one another, and their relationships are limited to working together, communal discernment can easily deteriorate into political maneuvering.
Without genuine life together, people naturally begin to protect their own ministries, their own departments, and their own ideas.
Meetings then become exercises in exchanging information, negotiating positions, and balancing power, rather than occasions for seeking God together.
Perhaps this is why seemingly unrelated activities—sharing meals, praying together, and sharing our lives with one another—may ultimately matter more than revising constitutions.
For genuine communal discernment is never built upon structures alone.
It is built upon relationships.
Ultimately, meetings are not the goal, and structures are not the goal.
What matters most is not how many committees we have, nor whether we have discovered the perfect organizational model.
The deeper question is whether these structures are still helping us seek God together.
Therefore, the next time we walk into a meeting room, perhaps the first question worth asking is not,
“How much do we need to accomplish today?”
but rather,
“Is the culture we are building helping us learn to listen to God together?”
“Or is it simply helping us accomplish things more efficiently?”
For the renewal of culture rarely begins with revolution.
More often, it begins with a community willing to slow down, to listen, and to walk together.
Pastor Antony
Notes
- H. Richard Niebuhr, The Social Sources of Denominationalism (New York: Henry Holt, 1929), 101–123.
- Edwin H. Friedman, A Failure of Nerve: Leadership in the Age of the Quick Fix (New York: Church Publishing, 2007), 19–44.
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