My preacher friend dropped down beside me in the pew. The first session of our annual state convention was about to get underway. I treasure his friendship and rejoice at the outstanding work he is doing in this his third pastorate. He’s new in our city and we are blessed to have him.

“What did you do today?” I asked.

He smiled. “I’ve spent the day at the pastors conference at the seminary.”

“How was it?”

“Great. They had some terrific speakers.”

“How was the attendance?”

“Good actually,” he said, and named two or three mutual friends he had bumped into.

I looked around and said, “I don’t see them here tonight.”

He said, “They won’t be here. I told them I was heading out to the first session of the convention and asked if they were going. One rolled his eyes and said, ‘Boring!'”

That conversation took place a month ago and I’ve thought about it ever since. It bugs me for several reasons.

One: I wonder if any of that pastor’s church members avoid his sermons for the same reason. Wonder if he would appreciate their applying the same standard to his messages he is applying toward the convention session.

Two: I wonder if he realizes what a disservice he is doing to his church members. They dutifully give their offerings on Sunday with the understanding that a good portion will end up in the state convention and go on from there to Baptist work throughout the country and the world. I’m confident they expect their leadership to follow up to make sure their investment is well placed, that the Lord’s work they are supporting is being done responsibly.

That pastor is shirking his duty to his congregation.

Three: I wonder why pastors with the spiritual maturity sufficient to lead a church and preach great sermons aren’t mature enough to sit through a dry report from an agency head.

Now, we all appreciate exciting reports and glowing presentations about the Lord’s work throughout our state, but frankly, not everyone knows how to present such accounts of their work. Furthermore, would it seem to petty to point out that only the immature need reports to entertain; the grownups have learned to listen with discernment and to hear what needs to be heard.

I for one want to know what Joe Aguillard is doing as he leads Louisiana College, what Perry Hancock is doing in leading the Louisiana Baptist Children’s Home, and what David Hankins is doing as he heads up our state convention work. I want to hear Mark Robinson tell what God is doing on our college campuses, Wayne Jenkins as he shares about evangelism in our state, and Gary Mitchell as he reports on his work with bi-vocational pastors.

Are these reports boring? Some could stand a little juicing up, but most are conversations between the speaker and the audience, and no pyrotechnics are required for that.

The budget recommendation is rather vanilla, admittedly, but surely no one in the audience needs to be reminded that adopting the budget determines what is going to be done in the next year. This is the heart of why we’re here in the first place. Fail to fund something and you’ve killed it, for all practical purposes.

Personally, I’d hate for our Order of Business Committee and our state convention staff to spend their time finding ways to juice up the reports which messengers will be hearing at each annual meeting. There is no need to employ the powerpoint services of the VeggieTale characters to make the budget more interesting.

We need to draw a line somewhere.

Recently on a Sunday afternoon, I sat in a fellowship hall with a church council to assist the leaders of one of our congregations in finding its way for the future. Their pastor, already under fire for some shenanigans, had resigned that morning. For an hour I listened to the comments being tossed around and found myself growing frustrated at the failures of this church’s previous pastors.

One member thought I was with the seminary. Another indicated he did not have a clue what the association is. Another wondered what right I had sitting in that meeting. And yet, this is a church which dutifully sends its check to our associational office every month. However, during the 18 years I’ve been in the New Orleans area, only one of their three pastors bothered to attend a pastors conference or the regular meetings of the associational executive committee. No wonder their members are ignorant of the association; their pastors are to blame.

Anyone who knows me knows I am the pastor’s advocate. In controversies between pastors and congregations, I’ve been accused of almost always taking the preacher’s side. That comes from 42 years of pastoring churches and seeing first-hand how the Lord’s shepherds are mistreated and taken advantage of by thoughtless members and unspiritual leaders.

But sometimes the pastor is the culprit. When he encourages his people to contribute to the work of the denomination through the association and state convention and then never attends a session to learn what’s being done or to make sure the money is well-invested, he is failing his people.

When the pastor never informs his people that they are part of a network of a hundred other Baptist churches making up the Baptist Association of Greater New Orleans and several thousand forming the Louisiana Baptist Convention, he is failing his people.

When the pastor goes it alone, never gets to know the other shepherds leading congregations in his area — Baptist and otherwise—he is failing his people.

Before clicking “send” for this article, I called the pastor friend referred to in the opening and asked his okay before releasing it into cyberspace. He said, “Go for it.” Then he added, “That’s the very reason I attend the association and the conventions. It’s worth a couple of days of meetings for me to represent my church and learn what is going on. That way, I can encourage them to be faithful in their working and giving with full knowledge that we’re doing the right thing.”

That’s one smart pastor.