If you count on and need the support of the people you lead–and who doesn’t–it is absolutely essential you keep them informed on situations and up-to-date on circumstances. They will be reluctant to make great sacrifices based merely on their allegiance to you.

Tell them what’s going on.

This week, as I write, the president of the Baptist seminary in our city sent a letter to hundreds of the school’s supporters across the country. In the single page missive he outlined the financial situation for the seminary and the post-Katrina recovery which is 90 percent complete. He pointed out what the American Association of Theological Schools estimates the typical year of seminary education to cost and laid that alongside what the six schools of our denomination spend per student, and finally, contrasted that with the much smaller figure for the New Orleans school.

“We’re not fighting for our survival,” he pointed out, but the day-to-day expenses of utilities and insurance have increased alarmingly and put the seminary in a difficult situation. He was asking for contributions to the general fund. The next day I wrote a nice check and sent to this outstanding school which has played such a key role in my own life and ministry.

Every denomination has its own way of operating, but a motto in Baptist life for many generations has been “tell the people.” Dean Doster, past-executive of Louisiana Baptists, likes to say, “Baptists are down on what they’re not up on.” No doubt it’s true of other religious groups also.

I believe that axiom and have the battle scars to prove it.

That’s why I did what I did and how I got into trouble.

Twenty years ago, I was the new pastor of a fairly large church in another state and excited to be there. I arrived during the middle of the summer, and with everything so unfamiliar and so many demands for my attention, I did not notice that the church had an unusual way of handling financial deficits which often occurred in the summer months. The second summer, I found out. Boy, did I ever.

The financial office informed me that we were running behind the budget for the month of June and based on past years, could expect to do so for the rest of the summer. Soon I met with the finance committee and proposed something I’d found to work very well in previous churches. “Let’s tell the people,” I said.

I suggested that each of the dozen or so members of the finance committee go into a Sunday School assembly the following Lord’s Day with a marker and write a few basic numbers on the board in front. “Show the members what our budget calls for, what we have received so far, and what the deficit is at this point.” I said, “I’m confident that once they see that we need their faithful support, they’ll come through.”

“Pastor,” the elderly man who chaired the finance committee, said softly, “That’s not how we do it.”

“Oh? What do you mean?”

He paused a moment and said, “We don’t tell the members about this. We don’t like to upset them. So, each summer we go to the bank and borrow enough to tide us over the slow months, and then the offerings in the Fall will make up the slack and we’ll pay it back. We’ve done that for years.”

Looking back, I would have given a five dollar bill had he informed me of this beforehand instead of breaking the news to me in front of the full committee. I also wish I had bitten my tongue and suggested he and I meet separately the next day to discuss the matter. As it was, on the spur of the moment and with no advance thought, I hardly knew what to say. I’d been around Baptist churches of one kind or another all my life and had never ever heard anyone say they protected the membership from news of the financial situation. In fact, the idea offended me. It made me wonder what else they were not telling the congregation.

Whether it was wise or not–and it probably wasn’t–I held my ground and insisted that borrowing money from the bank was completely unnecessary when all we had to do was inform the members and they would bring in the needed offerings.

In previous churches I had developed something of a reputation–mostly undeserved, I now realize–as an effective fund-raiser. You get that a reputation when God allows you to pastor a generous, happy congregation. Anyway, I thought I knew whereof I spoke, and the chairman of the finance committee and I ended up having a full disagreement in front of the full committee, a division that grew intense and heated.

He let me know quickly that he considered me knowledgeable about spiritual things but an ignoramus concerning finances. He being a banker and all.

Members of that church–some of whom read this blog–have sometimes wondered why I ended up leaving that church after only 3 years. The answer is long and involved–and includes bringing in a consultant who studied the church and made a number of painful recommendations, including that I depart and let the congregation start afresh with a new pastor–but in a nutshell, the answer is that the way I did church and the way the leaders did church were poles apart. Since I was the newcomer and they were entrenched in power with no thoughts of ever allowing the upstart young pastor to have any say in how things were done, they stayed and I ended up cleaning out my desk. It’s a long story–much of it sad–but that’s the gist of it.

Before I agreed to the recommendation of the consultant to leave, I asked the lay leadership to take the entire process before the congregation, to inform them, answer their questions, and have them agree to the terms. “Telling the people” was definitely not what they preferred to do.

God used that experience, of course, as He will any experience we commit to Him. I do not regret for a moment all the changes that came into our lives which, among other things, moved us to New Orleans in 1990. Three of those blessings are named Grant, Abigail, and Erin. These grandchildren were worth all of that heartache and more.

Tell the people. Inform those you are counting on to follow your leadership. Just because they chose you as their leader or made you a general or elected you president does not mean you are a one-person show.

During America’s Great Depression, President Franklin D. Roosevelt began using the radio to address the citizens in his periodic “fireside chats.” In this manner, he was bypassing the editors of newspapers who had been interpreting his press releases and editorializing on his speeches and putting their own spin on matters. By bringing the microphone into the Oval Office, Roosevelt was going directly to the American people. It was a new technique and he quickly became a master of it.

By telling the American people and shooting straight with them, their confidence in him sky-rocketed and they elected him president four times. During the War, Franklin Roosevelt was the most popular political leader on the planet.

In war-time England, Prime Minister Winston Churchill also took to the air waves and told the British people what they were facing. He offered no false hopes, but made it clear that the battle ahead would involve “blood, toil, tears, and sweat.” Later, when someone asked a British politician what role Churchill had actually played in the Allied victory, he answered, “He talked.”

Yes, he did–but how he talked.

Yesterday, as I write, I spent two hours in an automobile tire company’s waiting room and read most of the magazines and newspapers cluttering the area. I was struck by an article in the Wall Street Journal telling how executives of Fortune 500 companies are now staying in touch with their employees and customers by the internet. They’re sitting at their computers and blogging. One said, “A blog is an extremely effective way of articulating a vision.”

Recently, a pastor in another state e-mailed me with an invitaton to check out his blog. He writes a few paragraphs each day, basically telling of some experience he found interesting. After a few days of reading his material, I decided to risk our slight relationship with a suggestion.

I said, “Make more of your blog. At this point, the only people interested in what you are writing are your family members. It’s similar to what a 15-year-old would write.”

I suggested when the pastor finds something unusual he wishes to write about, that he give it some thought and make a wider application. This is a great place to stay in touch with your people during the week, to inform them of upcoming events, and to get their support on matters of importance. A blog is an ideal way to tell your story to your congregation, to speed up the process by which they come to know their leader and the way you operate. If there are doctrinal or community matters you need to address with them, here is the perfect way.

And cost effective? There has never been a better deal.

Take this blog of mine, for example. Twice each week, we email the articles I’ve posted to many hundreds who’ve asked to be recipients. If, let’s say, our mailing list is 1200, that comes out to 2400 mailings per week. Multiply that times 50 (we’ll take a couple of weeks off for vacation, let’s say) and we have 120,000 messages sent out each year. At the current postage rate, what would that cost? A lot!

The actual cost for this website and all our mailings is less than $150 per year. The best bargain on the planet.

Bottom line: if you expect your constituents to respond when you lead out, don’t wait to the last minute to bring them on board. Keep them informed.