The fact that some congregations cannot rise high enough to even meet their own internal challenges is a truth that should not be overlooked, but more about that later.

I can remember as a young pastor how exciting and full of promise every fall became as ideas percolated and programs took shape. Finally, the big day, when all vacations came to an end and the children dragged their parents back to reality. That was a rush. What possibilities were waiting for discovery? What people would be deeply moved by some tiny idea flowing from the congregation's activities?

In every congregation there are visionaries who hope their congregation will be open to new ideas. There is a need for church leaders to listen to these fringe people who sometimes have so many ideas, some a little too zany, that they become benign pests in the scheme of things. In many congregations, they are ignored. In some, they are chased away.

But leaders should remember that change almost always starts at the fringe, where people with very little to lose hatch their ideas. Some of those proposals for change fall dead at the first telling, but some may drop on good soil and take root. That is the great chore of all leaders, to distinguish between those ideas that will grow and those destined for an early grave.

The other task for religious leaders is to judge the value of change. When considering new ideas, leaders must look to the future: Will this program bring change that will strengthen the community, or will it eventually drag the congregation into a complicated situation -- too much money needed or too many volunteers, for instance?

But the truth is, many congregations will set up barriers at the first news of change. There are plenty of religious leaders who will allow themselves to be shocked by change -- literally shocked -- so that when a new idea comes up in committee, heads will snap back and jaws will grow slack. As the new ideas are spouted, eyes glaze over and a deadness becomes evident. When the vote is taken, change is soundly defeated.

The trick here is for a good leader to refuse to be shocked. Sometimes ideas coming from the fringe are a bit bold. That doesn't mean the idea should be clubbed to death. It just means it has to be adjusted.

I remember a gift that was given to a congregation I served that was to be used to buy scholarships for summer campers. The congregation was located in an area that had a number of struggling families. The children in those families, this generous fringe donor decided, should have the same summer opportunities as children from more affluent families.

So several thousand dollars was deposited in a savings account, pending the approval of the board of governors. When I approached the board that evening with this bright news, one of the members became very agitated. He wondered how we would measure a child's need? Some children and parents might cheat, he said. Would each child receive the same? Why give it just to the poor children? The questions continued for more than an hour, and many other board members became involved in the discussion.

Finally, I calmly (at least that is my recollection) reminded the board members that this donor was trying to give them thousands of dollars to be used to help children. Further, if there were problems to be worked out, a committee of trustees would find solutions.

Obviously, I had a group of board members who were allowing themselves to be shocked. These were not ignorant people, nor were they bad people. They had simply never considered the possibility that they would be shocked at a board meeting.

Every church leader should make a personal pledge never to be shocked. That gives the board time to consider a new idea without emotion and without the rhetoric of an outraged member.

Now, what about those churches that have such a low level of energy that they can barely solve the small simple problems, such as what to do about the broken-up sidewalk outside the main entry?

Here's my quick answer: Run for your spiritual life.

Clark D. Morphew