But they stumbled in the task of studying current measurements, verifying their accuracy, and evaluating whether their congregation is receptive to outcome-based decision making.
A few ministers and staff persons kept the metrics. And while there was no suspicion of “cooked books,” the team didn’t think it could ask the two critical questions: are the right measurements being kept, and are the measuring procedures adequate.
One issue, it seems, was that the numbers weren’t community property; they were owned by top staff. Budget figures, by contrast, belong to a larger group, and the impact of budget figures is shared with all. Metrics in areas such as attendance, participation, enthusiasm, and transformation of life are perceived as a reflection of staff performance, not congregational performance.
Another issue, then, was avoiding accountability. Ministers resisted being held accountable for outcomes such as declining attendance, because they have little leverage over attendance. Why be held accountable for something they can’t change?
The congregation, meanwhile, preferred to see declining attendance as a consequence of external factors like recession and changing residential patterns rather than a measure of congregational vitality, openness, and focus on faith.
Such difficulties show the precise reason why metrics matter. They aren’t a weapon to be used against church staff or members, but are clues into the congregation’s health. It’s why businesses verge on being obsessive about numbers. Without accurate metrics, managers are flying blind, and what they don’t know in time will bite them.
In the instance of this congregation, the fact that a Metrics team couldn’t find a way to ask about measurements suggests an outcome worthy of examination. What is it about this congregation’s culture that makes metrics seem off-limits?
Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant, and Episcopal priest based in New York. He is the publisher of On a Journey, and the founder of the Church Wellness Project www.churchwellness.com.
