Einige Punkte gilt es zu beachten Brazilian Studio

2026年5月22日星期五

《誰來接下一棒?》(二)有些教會總有下一代領袖|Who Will Take the Baton? — Part 2 Some Churches Always Seem to Have Another Generation of Leaders

我成長中看見的一種文化

如果第一篇所提出的問題成立,那麼另一個問題自然會出現:為甚麼有些教會到了交棒的時候找不到人,而有些教會卻似乎總能產生下一代領袖?

過去七年多的牧會歷程裡,無論在香港還是加拿大,我曾聽過不少教會談論或面對接班的困難。有些教會為主任牧師退休而憂慮,有些教會為長執老化而煩惱,也有教會花了多年時間尋找年輕牧者,卻始終沒有結果。然而每當聽見這些討論時,我總會不自覺地想起自己的成長經歷。

今天回頭看,我發現自己其實很幸運。因為在信仰成長的不同階段裡,我曾經身處一種十分重視傳承的教會文化之中。當時我並不覺得這有甚麼特別,因為我一直以為所有教會都是這樣。直到後來接觸更多不同背景的教會,我才慢慢發現,原來並不是每間教會都把培育下一代視為教會文化的重要部分。

更準確地說,有些教會未必經常談論「接班」,卻一直在做著接班所需要的事情。他們未必有一套完整的接班計劃,也未必知道二十年後誰會承擔重要崗位,但他們持續不斷地培育人、陪伴人、授權人。漸漸地,我開始明白,有些教會之所以總有下一代領袖,未必只是因為他們比較幸運,而是因為培育下一代早已成為教會文化的一部分。

一節經文所塑造的文化

在我成長的教會裡,提摩太後書二章二節幾乎是最常出現的經文之一。從初信栽培到門徒訓練,從團契生活到領袖聚會,從主日講台到同工分享,我反覆聽見同一個提醒:

「你在許多見證人面前聽見我所教訓的,也要交託那忠心能教導別人的人。」(提後2:2)

起初我以為這只是一節重要的經文。後來我才發現,它其實塑造了一種文化。

主任牧師差不多每年都會重複宣講這段經文。講解時,他也常常提醒我們,保羅在這裡看見的並不只是兩代人,而是四代人:保羅、提摩太、忠心的人,以及那些將來再被教導的人。¹ 換句話說,保羅所關心的並不只是提摩太能否承接自己的工作,而是福音與使命如何一代一代地延續下去。

正因如此,這段經文在教會裡從來不只是門徒訓練課程的一部分,而逐漸成為一種思考方式。無論是小組組長、團契職員、主日學老師,還是教牧同工,大家都被提醒同一個問題:如果今天你正在承擔一個崗位,你是否也正在培育下一個能夠承擔的人?如果今天你領受了一些信仰上的教導與經驗,你是否也正在思考如何把自己所領受的交託給下一代?

我後來才明白,這正是這段經文對我最深刻的影響。它不只是提醒教會尋找接班人,更在塑造一種持續培育門徒與領袖的文化。人們不只是思考如何完成眼前的事工,也開始思考如何讓使命在自己之後繼續被承接下去。

傳承發生在關係裡

當我再思想那段成長經歷時,我發現當年教會最寶貴的,其實不只是課程或訓練,而是一種跨世代同行的文化。

那時候在教會裡,老、中、青不同年齡的信徒之間,普遍存在許多自然的連結。大家會一起參與事工、一起參加短宣、一起籌備活動,也會在聚會以外主動相約見面。有時候是一起飲茶,有時候是一起吃飯聊天,有時候只是簡單分享近況和代禱需要。

當時大家並不覺得這些事情有甚麼特別。我們不會刻意說自己正在做「跨代牧養」,也不會把每一次聚會都理解為領袖培育。大家只是很自然地活在同一個群體裡,讓不同年齡和人生階段的人彼此認識、彼此影響。後來我才發現,這種文化其實並不容易建立,因為它需要時間,也需要一群願意主動走近彼此的人。

再仔細思想,我發現這種文化之所以能夠自然形成,還有另一個重要因素。當時教會的牧者與核心領袖大多處於三十至五十歲之間。今天看來,這群中生代領袖其實扮演著十分重要的橋樑角色。他們既能理解年長一代的需要,也較容易理解年輕一代的語言、文化與處境,因此能夠自然地把不同世代連結起來。

這種橋樑角色未必表現在講台或制度上,反而更多體現在日常生活之中。當時許多活動、聚會和事工安排都帶著一種自然的生命力。年輕人不會覺得自己被迫參與長輩的活動,年長信徒也不會覺得自己被年輕文化排除在外。不同世代的人能夠一起事奉、一起學習、一起生活,而不需要刻意強調自己正在做跨代事工。

直到後來接觸更多教會,我才慢慢發現,原來這種關係並非理所當然。在不少教會裡,不同年齡層的人各自聚集、各自事奉、各自生活。即使同樣在教會多年,也未必真正建立深厚的跨代關係。

然而,聖經中的傳承並不能單靠課堂完成。保羅與提摩太、摩西與約書亞、以利亞與以利沙,都不是只透過幾堂課建立關係,而是在同行的歲月中彼此影響。信仰固然需要被教導,但更多時候,信仰也在關係中被觀察、被模仿、被活出來。

今天再看,那些一起事奉、一起短宣、一起飲茶、一起聊天的日子,看似平凡,卻正是傳承文化重要的土壤。當一位年輕人願意主動找長輩傾談,當一位資深信徒願意花時間陪伴下一代,傳承其實已經開始發生。

「委身你成功」背後的信念

除了提摩太後書二章二節之外,在我的成長過程中,還有一句教會經常使用的說話,一直深深留在我的心裡:「委身你成功。」

這裡所說的「成功」,當然不是成功神學,也不是保證每一個委身的人最終都必然成功。多年後我才明白,這句話真正反映的是一種教會對人的承諾:如果你願意委身成長,教會也願意委身陪伴你成長。

很多人剛開始事奉時其實並不成熟。無論是講道、帶領、牧養,甚至人際關係和屬靈生命,都仍然有許多需要學習和被塑造的地方。然而在這種文化裡,人們願意給予機會,也願意容許失敗;願意給責任,也願意陪伴成長。教會不是只尋找已經成熟的人來填補事奉崗位,而是願意陪伴人成長為成熟的人。

後來我愈來愈明白,這其實是一種十分昂貴的文化。因為培育人永遠比使用人更花時間,也更需要耐性。許多教會願意使用成熟的人,但真正願意花上數年,甚至十多年時間培育一個人的教會卻不多。然而若沒有這些長期的投入,我們也很難期待成熟的領袖有一天會自然出現。

Marshall與Payne在《The Trellis and the Vine》中提醒,教會可以花費大量精力維持事工架構,卻忽略培育門徒生命。他們並不是否定架構本身的價值,而是提醒教會,架構應當服事人的成長,而不是反過來讓維持架構成為目的。² 今天再看,我愈來愈覺得,真正的傳承文化並不只是一套制度,而是一種對人的長期投資。它相信神會興起工人,同時也相信神往往透過人的陪伴、教導與栽培來完成祂的工作。

當培育成為一種習慣

後來我才發現,這種文化也在不知不覺間塑造了我的事奉方式。

當年帶領小組時,我並沒有刻意制定甚麼領袖培育計劃,也沒有想過要培育多少傳道人或宣教士。我只是很自然地做著自己一路以來被教導的事情:陪伴人、栽培人、給予機會,並鼓勵他們承擔責任。當時的我並沒有意識到自己正在做所謂的「領袖培育」,因為在我所熟悉的教會文化裡,這本來就是一件十分自然的事情。

當我再看當年那七年的小組牧養——那時候我還只是二十多、三十多歲——才發現有些事情一直在悄悄發生。在那些年日裡,小組中有三位組員後來成為傳道人,包括我和太太;另有一位走上宣教工場。當我離開原有的事奉崗位,進入神學院接受裝備時,也有兩位已經接受了兩年培育的實習組長願意起來承擔組長的責任,繼續帶領群體。³

我並不是要把這些事情視為自己的成績。相反,這些經歷讓我愈來愈相信文化的力量。有些時候,我們以為自己只是在陪伴幾個人成長,實際上卻可能正在建立下一代領袖出現的土壤;有些時候,我們以為自己只是在帶領一個小組,實際上卻可能正在延續一種對福音使命的理解。

這種觀察與Coleman在《The Master Plan of Evangelism》中的提醒有相通之處。他指出,耶穌塑造門徒、延續使命的方式,並不是以建立龐大的組織為中心,而是長期把生命投資在一群門徒身上;倍增並不只是來自活動的增加,而是來自生命對生命的培育。⁴ 今天再看,那七年的小組事奉並不只是在延續一個小組,也是在延續一種文化。

移民潮帶來的一場測試

過去幾年的香港移民潮,其實成為許多教會的一場大型壓力測試。當大量家庭離開香港、大量信徒移民海外時,許多教會同時面對會眾、領袖和同工流失的挑戰。這不只是人數減少的問題,更是多年累積的人才、經驗與事奉力量,在相對短的時間內被迅速抽離。

我的母會同樣經歷了這場衝擊。原本由一些資深領袖長期承擔的崗位,忽然需要其他人接上;原本穩定運作的事工,也因為人手離開而需要重新調整。有些責任在幾個月以前看來仍然十分穩定,轉眼之間卻需要重新思考由誰承擔。畢竟,一個群體要培養一位成熟領袖,往往需要十多年甚至更長時間,而失去一位成熟領袖,卻可能只需要短短幾個月。

然而近年再次觀察母會的發展時,我所看見的並不只有空缺。教會裡仍然不斷有新的組長、新的事奉者和新的傳道人出現。特別是在三十週年感恩聚會裡,我看見不同世代的人一同站在事奉崗位上;看見曾經擔任兒童導師的年輕人成為青年領袖;也看見過去被陪伴、被栽培的人,今天開始承擔陪伴和栽培別人的責任。在三十週年回顧教會歷史時,我們更發現這個群體已經培育出超過三十位傳道人與宣教士。

但真正令我感到驚訝的,其實不只是這個數字。

因為這三十年並不是一段一帆風順的歷史。教會曾經歷三次嚴重的分裂,其中一次甚至有接近一半的領袖離開;經過那些艱難的歲月,教會人數也曾經由數百人下降至百餘人。群體曾經受傷,事奉力量曾經流失,留下來的人也需要很長時間重新整理和醫治。

若只從人的角度來看,這些事情本來很容易令一個群體的培育出現斷層,也很容易令人從此變得保守,只求維持,不敢再把生命投資在人身上。然而培育並沒有因此停止。一代人離開了,另一代人仍然慢慢長出來;曾經被建立的人,又繼續建立後來的人。

這些果效不是短時間內可以製造出來的,也不是單靠某一位牧者、某一套制度或某一個黃金時期便能解釋。

對我來說,三十年後再回頭看,這甚至帶著一點神蹟的味道:一個曾經幾次受傷、甚至一度失去大量領袖的群體,竟然仍然能夠持續有人被建立、被差遣,再去建立別人。

正是在這些觀察裡,我開始明白一件事情:真正值得研究的,或許不是接班計劃本身,而是接班計劃背後所反映的文化。很多時候,我們以為只要設立制度、安排職位、設計接班程序,問題便能夠得到解決。然而移民潮和過去的幾次分裂,卻從不同方向提醒我:人可以離開,崗位可以突然空下來,原有的安排也可以被打亂;但如果一種培育下一代的文化已經深深植根於群體之中,它並不會隨著某些人的離開而消失。

相反,這種文化會繼續透過關係、榜樣、陪伴與交託,在不同世代之間延續下去,也繼續讓新的人慢慢成長起來。或許這正是為甚麼有些教會即使經歷巨大的流失,仍然能夠繼續向前:真正支撐群體未來的,從來不只是某幾個人,而是一種能夠持續培育人的文化。

我的一個領悟

這些年來,我愈來愈有一個體會:即使一間教會十分重視傳承,也不代表傳承一定能夠成功;然而,如果一間教會從來沒有刻意思考傳承、培育和交託下一代,要建立健康而持續的傳承文化,也就十分困難。

換句話說,刻意思考傳承,並不保證傳承一定成功;但如果我們從來沒有想過如何傳承,就很難想像傳承會自然發生。

因為傳承從來不是某一天忽然發生的事情。它不是退休前幾年的安排,也不是出現空缺時才開始的計劃,而是在許多年日裡,透過陪伴、教導、授權與同行,一點一滴累積出來的結果。

我也開始明白,為甚麼有些教會總能持續產生下一代領袖。未必是因為他們特別幸運,也未必是因為他們剛好遇見優秀的人才,而是因為他們很早以前已經開始培育人。當別人看見的是接棒的那一天,他們其實已經默默耕耘了二十年。

而這或許正是今天許多華人教會需要重新思考的地方:我們所擔心的,究竟是接班問題,還是培育問題?

下一代領袖是怎樣出現的?

然而,當我繼續思想這個問題時,我也開始發現另一個現象。有些教會明明知道要培育人,卻始終培育不起來;有些教會明明擁有不少資源,卻仍然出現領袖斷層;有些教會談論傳承多年,卻始終無法建立穩定的接棒文化。問題似乎不只是課程,也不只是制度,而是更深層的文化與價值觀。

下一篇,我想透過自己母會的一段歷史,進一步思考:一間曾經歷三次嚴重分裂、會眾一度由數百人下降至百餘人的教會,為甚麼後來仍然能夠重新站起來,並持續產生下一代領袖?

也許答案並不在於它做了甚麼特別的事情,而在於它長期相信一件事情:

教會最重要的投資,不是事工,而是人。

Antony傳道

註腳

¹ 提摩太後書2:2。Mounce指出,這節經文呈現了一個跨越多個層次的傳承圖畫:保羅將所領受的交給提摩太,提摩太再交託忠心而能教導別人的人,而這些人又會繼續教導其他人。這幅圖畫正好呈現了本文所關注的重點:所領受的並不停止在一個人身上,而是繼續被交託下去。參William D. Mounce, Pastoral Epistles (Word Biblical Commentary 46; Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2000), 492–494。

² Colin Marshall and Tony Payne, The Trellis and the Vine: The Ministry Mind-Shift That Changes Everything (Kingsford, NSW: Matthias Media, 2009), 13–24。Marshall與Payne並非否定教會架構的價值,而是以「棚架」(trellis)與「葡萄藤」(vine)的比喻提醒教會:架構應當服事人的成長,而不應讓維持架構本身取代建立門徒的工作。

³ 文中有關當年七年小組牧養、三位組員後來成為傳道人、一位走上宣教工場,以及兩位實習組長後來承擔組長責任的描述,均來自作者個人的牧養經歷與觀察。

⁴ Robert E. Coleman, The Master Plan of Evangelism (Grand Rapids: Revell, 1963), 27–43, 95–108。Coleman強調耶穌集中生命於一群門徒身上的培育方式,並進一步討論門徒如何透過再生產與倍增,使使命延續下去。因此這裡引用的重點,不只是「陪伴少數人」,也包括生命如何繼續建立生命。

A Culture I Witnessed While Growing Up

If the question raised in the first article is valid, then another question naturally follows: Why do some churches reach the point of passing the baton only to find that there is no one ready to take it, while others seem to keep producing leaders from one generation to the next?

Over the past seven years or more of pastoral ministry, both in Hong Kong and Canada, I have heard many churches talk about or face the difficulties of succession. Some worry about what will happen when their senior pastor retires. Others are concerned about aging deacons and church leaders. Still others spend years searching for younger pastors without success. Whenever I hear these conversations, however, I find myself thinking about the church culture in which I grew up.

Today, I realize how fortunate I was. At different stages of my Christian journey, I was part of a church culture that placed great importance on handing on what we had received. At the time, I did not think there was anything unusual about it. I simply assumed that every church worked this way. Only after encountering churches from a wider range of backgrounds did I gradually realize that not every church sees developing the next generation as an important part of its culture.

More precisely, some churches may not talk very often about “succession,” yet they are continually doing the things that make succession possible. They may not have a comprehensive succession plan, nor know who will carry significant responsibilities twenty years from now. But they keep developing people, walking alongside them, and empowering them. Gradually, I began to understand that some churches continue to have leaders in the next generation not simply because they are more fortunate, but because developing the next generation has already become part of their culture.

A Culture Shaped by One Verse

In the church where I grew up, 2 Timothy 2:2 was one of the passages we heard most often. From follow-up for new believers to discipleship training, from fellowship life to leadership gatherings, from Sunday sermons to ministry-team sharing, I repeatedly heard the same reminder:

“What you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful men, who will be able to teach others also.” (2 Timothy 2:2)

At first, I thought this was simply an important Bible verse. Only later did I realize that it had actually shaped a culture.

Our senior pastor preached from this passage almost every year. When explaining it, he would often remind us that Paul was not looking at only two generations, but four: Paul, Timothy, faithful people, and those whom they would in turn teach.¹ In other words, Paul’s concern was not simply whether Timothy could take over his work, but how the gospel and its mission would continue from one generation to another.

For this reason, the passage was never merely part of a discipleship course. It gradually became a way of thinking. Whether someone was a small-group leader, a fellowship committee member, a Sunday School teacher, or a pastor, we were all repeatedly confronted with the same questions: If you are carrying a responsibility today, are you also developing someone who may one day be able to carry it? If you have received teaching and experience in the faith, are you also thinking about how to entrust what you have received to the next generation?

I came to understand that this was the deeper significance the passage had for me. It does not simply call a church to find successors. It helps shape a culture in which disciples and leaders are continually being developed. People learn to think not only about completing the ministry in front of them, but also about how the mission can continue after them.

Handing On Happens in Relationships

As I reflect on those formative years, I realize that one of the most valuable things about the church was not simply its courses or training, but its culture of relationships across generations.

Older adults, middle-aged adults, and younger people were naturally connected in many different ways. We served together, went on short-term mission trips together, and organized activities together. We also made time to meet outside church gatherings. Sometimes we went for dim sum. Sometimes we shared a meal and talked. Sometimes we simply caught up on life and shared prayer needs.

None of us thought these things were particularly unusual. We did not deliberately describe what we were doing as “intergenerational ministry,” nor did we interpret every gathering as leadership development. We were simply living naturally within the same community, allowing people of different ages and stages of life to know and influence one another. I came to realize that this kind of culture is not easy to build. It takes time, and it requires people who are willing to take the initiative to move toward one another.

As I thought more carefully about why this culture had developed so naturally, I began to notice another important factor. Most of the pastors and core leaders in the church at the time were in their thirties, forties, and fifties. From where I stand today, I can see that this middle generation played an important bridging role. They could understand the needs of the older generation while also relating more readily to the language, culture, and circumstances of younger people. In this way, they naturally helped connect different generations.

This bridging role was not expressed mainly through sermons or formal structures. It was more visible in ordinary church life. Many of our activities, gatherings, and ministries had a natural vitality to them. Younger people did not feel that they were simply being made to participate in activities designed for older people, while older members did not feel excluded by a younger culture. Different generations could serve, learn, and share life together without constantly having to emphasize that they were doing “intergenerational ministry.”

Only after encountering other churches did I begin to realize that these relationships cannot be taken for granted. In many churches, people of different age groups gather separately, serve separately, and live much of their church life separately. Even after years in the same congregation, they may never develop deep relationships across generations.

Yet the handing on we see in Scripture does not take place through classrooms alone. Paul and Timothy, Moses and Joshua, Elijah and Elisha were not formed through a few lessons together. Their relationships developed through years of shared life and ministry. Faith certainly needs to be taught, but very often it is also observed, imitated, and lived out within relationships.

Those ordinary days of serving together, going on short-term missions together, sharing dim sum, and simply talking with one another may have seemed unremarkable at the time, but they were part of the soil in which a culture of handing on could grow. When a younger person takes the initiative to talk with someone older, and when an experienced believer makes time to walk alongside someone from the next generation, the handing on has already begun.

The Conviction Behind “Commit Yourself to Others’ Success”

Alongside 2 Timothy 2:2, another phrase that our church often used has remained deeply embedded in my memory: “Commit Yourself to Others’ Success.”

The “success” in this phrase was never about a theology of worldly success, nor was it a promise that everyone who committed themselves would inevitably succeed. I eventually came to understand that it expressed a commitment the church was making to its people: if you are willing to commit yourself to growth, the church is also willing to commit itself to walking with you as you grow.

Most people are not mature when they first begin serving. Whether in preaching, leadership, pastoral care, relationships, or their spiritual lives, there is still much to learn and much that needs to be shaped. Within this kind of culture, however, people are willing to give others opportunities and allow room for failure. They entrust responsibility while continuing to accompany growth. Instead of simply looking for mature people to fill ministry positions, the church is willing to walk with people as they grow toward maturity.

Over time, I came to understand that this is actually a costly kind of culture. Developing people always takes more time and patience than simply using people who are already capable. Many churches are willing to make use of mature people, but far fewer are willing to spend years—even ten years or more—developing someone. Yet without that kind of long-term investment, it is difficult to expect mature leaders simply to appear one day.

In The Trellis and the Vine, Marshall and Payne warn that churches can devote enormous energy to maintaining ministry structures while neglecting the work of growing disciples. Their argument is not that structures are unimportant, but that structures should serve the growth of people rather than allowing the maintenance of those structures to become an end in itself.² The more I reflect on this, the more I believe that a culture of handing on is not merely a system, but a long-term investment in people. It trusts that God raises up workers, while also recognizing that He often does so through people who accompany, teach, and nurture others.

When Developing People Becomes a Habit

I eventually began to see how deeply this culture had shaped the way I approached ministry.

When I led a small group, I did not deliberately create a leadership development plan, nor did I set out to produce a certain number of pastors or missionaries. I simply did what I had been taught to do: walk alongside people, nurture them, give them opportunities, and encourage them to take responsibility. At the time, I did not think of this as “leadership development.” Within the church culture I knew, it simply felt natural.

When I later reflected on those seven years of small-group ministry—when I was still in my twenties and thirties—I began to notice what had quietly happened. During those years, three members of the group eventually became pastors, including my wife and me, and one went into the mission field. When I left that ministry to enter seminary, two others who had already spent two years learning as apprentice small-group leaders were willing to step forward and take responsibility for leading the group.³

I do not mention these things as achievements of my own. On the contrary, they have made me increasingly aware of the power of culture. Sometimes we think we are simply walking alongside a few people as they grow, when in fact we may be cultivating the soil from which the next generation of leaders will emerge. Sometimes we think we are simply leading a small group, when in fact we may be carrying forward a particular understanding of the gospel and its mission.

This observation resonates with Coleman’s emphasis in The Master Plan of Evangelism. He points to Jesus’ way of forming disciples and carrying His mission forward—not by making the building of a vast organization the centre of His strategy, but by investing His life over time in a group of disciples. Multiplication comes not merely through an increase in activities, but through people forming other people.⁴ Seen in this light, those seven years of small-group ministry were not simply about keeping a small group going. They were also about carrying forward a culture.

The Migration Wave as a Stress Test

The wave of migration from Hong Kong over the past several years has, in many ways, become a major stress test for churches. As large numbers of families left Hong Kong and believers moved overseas, many churches faced the simultaneous loss of members, leaders, and ministry workers. This was not simply a matter of declining attendance. Years of accumulated experience, leadership, and ministry capacity were being removed within a relatively short period of time.

My home church went through the same disruption. Positions that had long been carried by experienced leaders suddenly needed someone else to step into them. Ministries that had once functioned steadily had to adjust as people left. Responsibilities that had seemed secure only months earlier suddenly raised the question of who would carry them next. After all, developing a mature leader can take ten years or more, while losing one may happen within a matter of months.

Yet when I observed my home church again in recent years, I saw more than vacancies. New small-group leaders, new ministry workers, and new pastors continued to emerge. At the church’s 30th anniversary thanksgiving celebration in particular, I saw people from different generations serving side by side. I saw young people who had once served in children’s ministry grow into youth leaders. I saw people who had once been accompanied and nurtured beginning to take responsibility for accompanying and nurturing others. As we looked back over the church’s history during the anniversary, we found that this community had raised up more than thirty pastors and missionaries.

But what surprised me most was not simply the number.

Those thirty years had by no means been an uninterrupted story of growth. The church had gone through three serious church splits. During one of them, nearly half of its leaders left; across those difficult years, the congregation at one point fell from several hundred people to just over a hundred. The community had been wounded, ministry capacity had been lost, and those who remained needed a long time to recover and heal.

From a purely human perspective, experiences like these could easily have broken the continuity of leadership development. They could also have made a community more defensive—concerned simply with preserving what remained and reluctant to invest deeply in people again. Yet the work of developing people did not stop. One generation left, another gradually grew, and those who had once been built up continued building up those who came after them.

These outcomes could not have been produced in a short period of time, nor could they be explained by one pastor, one system, or one golden era.

For me, looking at the church thirty years later, there is even a hint of the miraculous in it: a community that had been wounded more than once, and at times had lost many of its leaders, somehow continued to see people built up, sent out, and then building up others in turn.

Through these observations, I began to understand something: perhaps what deserves closer attention is not the succession plan itself, but the culture beneath it. We can easily assume that if we create the right structures, assign the right positions, and design the right succession process, the problem will be solved. Yet the migration wave and the church’s earlier splits have reminded me in different ways that people can leave, positions can suddenly become vacant, and established arrangements can be disrupted; but when a culture of developing the next generation has become deeply rooted in a community, it does not simply disappear when certain people leave.

Instead, that culture continues through relationships, examples, accompaniment, and entrustment. It moves from one generation to another and allows new people to grow into responsibility. Perhaps this is why some churches can continue moving forward even after significant losses: what sustains their future is not simply the presence of a few particular people, but a culture that continues to build people.

One Thing I Have Come to Understand

Over the years, I have come to one conclusion: even when a church takes handing on seriously, there is no guarantee that it will succeed. Yet if a church never intentionally thinks about handing on what it has received, developing people, and entrusting responsibility to the next generation, it is very difficult to build a healthy and sustainable culture of handing on.

Put another way: thinking intentionally about handing on what we have received does not guarantee that we will succeed. But if we never think about how to hand it on, it is difficult to imagine it happening by itself.

The handing on of what we have received is never something that suddenly happens one day. It is not an arrangement made in the final years before retirement, nor a plan that begins only when a vacancy appears. It is the accumulated result of many years of walking alongside people, teaching them, empowering them, and entrusting responsibility to them.

I have also come to understand more clearly why some churches continue to produce leaders from one generation to the next. It may not be because they are especially fortunate, nor because they happen to encounter unusually gifted people. Often, it is because they began developing people long before the need became obvious. By the time others see the baton being passed, they may already have been quietly cultivating people for twenty years.

And perhaps this is what many Chinese churches need to reconsider today: Is the problem we are worried about really a succession problem, or is it a development problem?

How Do Leaders of the Next Generation Emerge?

As I continued thinking about this question, however, I began to notice another pattern. Some churches know that they need to develop people, yet still struggle to do so. Some have considerable resources and still experience gaps in leadership. Others have talked about succession for years but have never developed a stable culture in which the baton can be passed. Perhaps the issue, then, lies not only in courses or systems, but in something deeper—in the culture and values of the community itself.

In the next article, I want to look more closely at a chapter in the history of my home church and ask another question: How could a church that had gone through three serious church splits, with its congregation at one point falling from several hundred people to just over a hundred, eventually stand again and continue producing leaders for the next generation?

Perhaps the answer lies not in anything particularly extraordinary that it did, but in something it had come to believe over many years:

The church’s most important investment is not in ministry, but in people.

Pastor Antony

Notes

¹ 2 Timothy 2:2. Mounce points to a pattern of transmission across several stages in this verse: what Paul has taught is entrusted to Timothy, who is then to entrust it to faithful people capable of teaching others, who will in turn continue the process of teaching. This pattern captures the concern at the heart of this article: what has been received does not stop with one person, but continues to be entrusted to others. See William D. Mounce, Pastoral Epistles, Word Biblical Commentary 46 (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2000), 492–494.

² Colin Marshall and Tony Payne, The Trellis and the Vine: The Ministry Mind-Shift That Changes Everything (Kingsford, NSW: Matthias Media, 2009), 13–24. Marshall and Payne do not dismiss the value of church structures. Rather, through their image of the “trellis” and the “vine,” they argue that structures should serve the growth of people rather than allowing the maintenance of structures themselves to replace the work of making and growing disciples.

³ The account of those seven years of small-group ministry—including three group members who later became pastors, one who went into the mission field, and two apprentice small-group leaders who later took responsibility for leading the group—is based on the author’s own pastoral experience and observation.

⁴ Robert E. Coleman, The Master Plan of Evangelism (Grand Rapids: Revell, 1963), 27–43, 95–108. Coleman emphasizes Jesus’ sustained investment in a group of disciples and later discusses how discipleship continues through reproduction and multiplication. The point being drawn on here, therefore, concerns not only investing in a smaller group of people, but also the way lives shaped through discipleship go on to shape others.



沒有留言 :

發佈留言