Pastoral Plans Don't Work

Allow me to clarify: in nearly twenty years of working for the Church—at the parish and diocesan levels and in an apostolate that has international reach—I have never seen a parish (or diocesan) pastoral plan produce the wide-spread transformative fruit its authors hoped for. I am not talking about capital campaigns or staff reshuffles or pastorate reorganization plans—I have seen those succeed many times. I am referring to pastoral plans aimed at discipleship and/or evangelization.

Now, I am sure there are exceptions (I hope there are), but I have never encountered one. You are probably not surprised. In hundreds of interactions with priests and parish pastoral workers around the country (and thousands of lay Catholics), I get the same response when I mention pastoral plans: an eye-roll or sigh or some other sign of exasperation followed by affirmation that they do not work.

So, apart from the rare exceptions that hopefully exist, why is it that pastoral plans tend not to work? Pastoral plans tend to ignore or do not know how to apply two subtle, but very important principles that must guide all pastoral and evangelical activity. The first principle is that renewal must obey the law of the mustard seed. The second is that in the Church, reality precedes structure.

The Law of the Mustard Seed

Firstly, most pastoral plans rely heavily on large events and workshops, not on planting mustard seeds and caring for them. For example, let us say that a parish mission or workshop draws 200 people. In an unexpected best-case scenario turn of events, all 200 of those people get rocked by the event and have a profound conversion experience.

Then what? Who will accompany the 200 individuals into deeper continual conversion? Who will help Jim when he gets discouraged when his buddies do not respond to his invitation to start a group? Who will help Barb when she begins to think that mental prayer just is not for her after the fourth day in a row of super distracted prayer times? Who will correct Aaron when he gets the idea that the most effective way to evangelize is to put Catholic tracts on all the cars in the parking lots in the surrounding Protestant churches? Who will help the 197 other people grow? Who will guide them into supportive Catholic community and apostolate? In many cases, I have experienced these types of situations backfire with disillusionment, frustration, and reduction of the enthusiasm of initial conversion to emotions.

The reality is that most parishes do not have the infrastructure—the people—to handle large-scale “successes.” Thus, renewal must obey the law of the mustard seed.

The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed which a man took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches (Matt 13:31-32).

Jesus used the parable of the mustard seed to describe his own method for building the Kingdom. Cardinal Ratzinger, too, used this parable to outline the method and structure of the “new evangelization,” and proposed it as one of three laws of the new evangelization.[1]

Historically, this means that the Kingdom of God began small; and new expressions within the Church have always begun small—small, insignificant, and oftentimes (by human standards) even doubtful. Spiritually and theologically, the law of the mustard seed emphasizes humility. God exalts the humble: when we decrease, he will increase. Pastorally, it emphasizes patience and care. A seed does not become a large bush or tree all at once; it takes years, decades, even centuries. And it takes care: watering, feeding, pruning, etc. Finally, the mustard seed also contains within it the mystery of the Cross—only if it dies and is buried will it bring about new life. Evangelization must follow the path of humility, patience, and the Cross.

Practically, and on a human level, the law of the mustard seed underscores the importance of shepherding people as individuals—not large groups. When an extraordinary event produces large-scale conversions or excitement, pastoral workers cannot adequately shepherd all the people who need accompaniment. Such events often become “the seed that fell on shallow soil.” After a few weeks, most people drift back to where they were before, because the parish leadership could not adequately nurture the “sprouts.”

Starting small allows pastoral leaders to attend to incremental growth in the individual members of the community as it happens, adjusting structures and projecting ahead for what the slowly growing movement truly needs to thrive. This creates stability along the way and in the long run.

Which leads me to the second principle pastoral plans usually miss: in the Church, lived reality is prior to structure.

Reality Precedes Structure

Most pastoral plans put the cart before the horse. They create a structure and then try to fill it with people that would eventually result in the hoped-for reality. Leadership will define a pathway or process for missionary discipleship and set a corresponding timeline. The plan instructs those executing it to herd people en masse through chutes (usually in the form of workshops and programs and/or getting more people involved in “parish life”) in the prescribed timeline, in the proper order, progressing tidily through the stages of discipleship so that by year three or five the diocese or parish will be transformed into a missionary discipleship culture. Basically, these pastoral plans attempt to put spiritual transformation on a production timeline, mechanizing on a large scale what should be tended and nourished as a mustard seed (thereby also neglecting the law of the mustard seed).

However, in the Church, lived reality is always prior to structure. This principle is a bit more involved than the law of the mustard seed, so please bear with me. The Catechism of the Catholic Church lays this principle out with great clarity:

In the Church this communion of men with God, in the love [that] never ends, is the purpose which governs everything in her that is a sacramental means, tied to this passing world. The Church’s structure is totally ordered to the holiness of Christ’s members . . . Mary goes before us all in the holiness that is the Church’s mystery as the bride without spot or wrinkle. This is why the “Marian” dimension of the Church precedes the “Petrine” (§773).

Reality Precedes Structure, Ontologically

The ultimate reality of the Church that precedes, in importance, any ecclesial structure is holiness. Holiness is the very life of God communicated to us. And God communicates his life to us by means of the sacraments, his Word which comes to us through the Church, and the governance of the Church. These are the structures that protect and facilitate the reality of holiness. Additionally, this holiness is by its very nature apostolic.[2] Holiness that is not apostolic is lacking. Therefore, the structures must protect and facilitate the reality of apostolic holiness.

It is in this ontological sense that we can say that in the Church reality always precedes structure. There is an ontological priority of holiness over structures: apostolic holiness governs and determines all the structures, which are means, “tied to this passing world” (§773) to protect and facilitate the growth of holiness, both in depth and breadth. Some of those structures are unchanging, like the seven sacraments and the hierarchical constitution of the Church. However, most structures can and must be changed according to needs and circumstances. Pastoral plans, job descriptions, org charts, councils and committees, and budgets are just a few of the changeable structures that are meant to serve the reality of apostolic holiness. In other words, the reality of holiness is the end, for which the Church’s structures are means.

Reality Usually Precedes Structure, Chronologically

But there is another sense in which reality precedes structure in the Church. Because we are temporal beings, the ontological priority includes a temporal dimension. This usually manifests itself as a chronological phenomenon: the lived reality of holiness usually chronologically precedes the development and establishment of pastoral and ecclesiastical structures.[3] The structures are usually incrementally added along the way, mature over time, and are revised as needed in order to protect the specific form of apostolic holiness that has developed and allow it to flourish and promote its spreading.

Why? Because God always takes the initiative. We cannot predict the specifics of what he is going to initiate and how individuals are going to respond to his initiative (nor can we predict how the Enemy is going to attack and how people will respond to that). How often does it happen that the Holy Spirit surprises us with whom he inspires, or how he inspires them! How often does it happen that our plans for other people are not God’s plans for them, and we try to get them to do things that do not feed their desires or correspond with their charisms or state in life!

Thus, the path to renewal starts with creating the conditions for God to inspire new apostolic holiness in just a few, and then incrementally providing the necessary structure along the way to allow the movement to grow. In a sense, then, this principle builds upon the law of the mustard seed, in which renewal in the Church always starts small. In other words, you cannot predict exactly what means you will need to support the end before the end exists, at least in seed form.

Contrast this with a pastoral plan that seeks to lay out a three-year plan for progressing in discipleship and evangelization. Suppose year one includes several large-group workshops and retreats on prayer and discipleship, with the goal of evangelizing the lowest hanging fruit and helping them to grow in their own discipleship. Year two focuses on teaching those people to evangelize the pews. Perhaps there are a few small group trainings, and maybe some other evangelization skills workshops. Then there is a small group push with sign-ups at the parish. Finally, year three directs attention on evangelization beyond the pews with kerygma workshops and trainings on threshold conversations.

What if fifty or seventy-five people come to the first workshop, but do not come to the others because, even though they were inspired to learn to pray and grow in discipleship, after a few days or weeks they did not know how to work past difficulties, because the parish staff was not equipped to accompany them (and perhaps many of them did not even want accompaniment by the parish staff)? What if the ten or so people who did stick with it were ready to evangelize the pews, but despite their best efforts could not fill their groups, because the pews were not actually their circles of influence? So they just decided not to do anything.

Now, let us look to the example of how Jesus began the Church. Notice how Jesus did not start with a strategic plan, charts, timelines, or structures that he shoehorned people into. There was no clearly laid out discipleship pathway, and there were no clearly defined core values or mission statements—at least there is no record of this. He began by forming a small number of men how to live—a mustard seed. In fact, the early Church was first referred to as “the way”[4] because it was a new way of life, formed according to divine love. As they lived in his new way of life and attracted people, and as the movement grew, they gradually discerned exactly what structures were part of the very constitution of the Church, and how to clarify and even add ancillary structures to facilitate fidelity and ongoing growth.[5]

This is not unique to Jesus. St. Benedict did not first write his rule and all the statutes of the Benedictine order and then try to “cast a vision” with “clear entry points” and a “clear Benedictine pathway” and then try to open it up to thousands of people at once. Neither did St. Francis of Assisi, St. Ignatius of Loyola, or St. Josemaria Escriva create their complete statutes, norms, and rules of life, and then try to fill their orders or the prelature with thousands of people. With regard to St. Josemaria, he did not even live to see the establishment of Opus Dei’s final canonical structure.[6]

Each of these saints started something new within the Church, something that had not existed before they responded to the Holy Spirit. In all these cases (and in basically all the others who began movements of renewal), as they began living in a new way, others joined them individually or a few at a time, by way of invitation and/or attraction. Along the way, as their new ways of life took shape and as the numbers gradually increased, they bit-by-bit wrote down notes and rules, which would later get clarified, and eventually get ecclesiastically ratified. It was only after living in these new ways sometimes for many years (with plenty of trial and error) that they wrote final rules and statutes or defined structures to protect these realities and allow them to flourish.

In other words, first there is a revelation or a call or some grace that is offered to someone or a very small group of people—there is a mustard seed. That person or group responds, and by grace begins praying and/or living a certain way. Initially, small numbers of people begin to follow, and this way spreads. Over years or decades, customs develop and a way of life flowers. Then, at points along the way, in an effort to protect it from aberration and to help this way of life to flourish, the Church clarifies and defines the teachings and clarifies or creates statutes, rubrics, prayers, or structures of governance. In other words, the structures are defined and/or established as, and sometimes even after, lived realities develop. The structures are created in service to the realities. This has been the modus operandi of how the Church has grown and renewed over the centuries. There are instances of other forms of growth and renewal in the history of the Church, but those have been the exception.[7]

Culture Eats Strategy for Breakfast

An important principle from the world of business leadership combines, in a way, the two principles above: “culture eats strategy for breakfast.” For some reason, pastoral councils (oftentimes made up of business professionals), pastoral planning consultants, and Church leaders nearly always forget to apply—or do not know how to apply—this principle to the life of the Church.

In a pastoral context, culture is equivalent to the reality of holiness, and strategy is equivalent to structure. In fidelity to the law of the mustard seed, the culture of holiness must begin small. We typically see this in the world of business leadership as well, in fact: culture change nearly always abides by the law of mustard seed.

“Culture eats strategy for breakfast” means if you do not have the right leadership culture, your strategy, no matter how good it is, will not amount to much. In a business context, healthy culture means having the right people on your team who are united in a common vision and core values, and who are committed to doing whatever it takes to achieve this vision together. The right people, with a common vision and total dedication, will be able to put together an excellent strategy. They will have the dedication, nimbleness, and excellence to be able to make whatever adjustments or changes of strategy needed along the way to achieve the vision; and adjustments will be needed.

Healthy culture in Church leadership means all of the human and professional traits I listed above, plus zealous apostolic holiness within supportive and prayerful community that fosters and supports the zealous apostolic holiness.

Most pastoral plans assume—if they even consider it at all—that the culture of the parish is healthy enough to carry out the plan with the docility, tenacity, and perseverance necessary to take them to completion (as if there is “completion” on this side of the Second Coming anyway). The reality is that parish culture—especially at the level of leadership—is usually not healthy enough, neither professionally nor supernaturally, to carry out pastoral strategies fruitfully.

Even reorganizations of personnel typically do not amount to much in terms of renewal because a reorganization is usually simply a shuffling or restructuring of a broken or unhealthy reality.[8] such a strategy does not actually address unhealthy culture. In other words, you just cannot restructure or reorganize people into apostolic holiness.

Moreover, by putting the structures chronologically prior to the reality of holiness—by trying to shoehorn people en masse into a strategic pastoral plan, you inadvertently end up treating the structures and plans as if they are ontologically prior to holiness. Filling ministries and/or workshops with participants, and then people “doing what they were trained to do” becomes the measure of success. And that subtly equates “renewal with the manipulation of institutional structures”[9] and success with the involvement of people in activities. To the extent that we do this, we actually empty the mission of the Church of its supernatural power, because we rely too much on human techniques and strategies or metrics and observable data, and not enough on the grace of God to effect personal conversion and holiness within the depths of hearts.[10] We strip the Church and her mission of mystery, replacing it with strategy and data that we can control and/or manipulate.

When this happens, practically speaking, the pastoral plans, ministries, programs, and ultimately “the parish”[11] become envisioned as an engine of evangelization that parishioners must fuel by their attendance or volunteering. Again, all of this in some way goes against the very nature of the Church, because it flips means and ends and reduces the mission of the Church to human technique and strategy.

In many ways, this is analogous to how very well-intentioned newly married couples will create a career plan “so that they can raise and provide well for a happy family” (a good goal!). But the more fixated they become on the plan, the more they can subordinate family life to career building and money-making. Eventually, family life begins to serve the plan. Somehow, over the years, right under their noses, means and end get flipped, and they find themselves in a world of severe hurt. Many cannot repair it.

A New Kind of Pastoral Plan

So if pastoral plans are not going to work for the vast majority of parishes (and dioceses), what are we to do? Should we abandon pastoral plans?

I would say we need a different kind of pastoral plan. One that begins very small, and moves at the pace of the personal conversion of individuals growing into a small community, and of communities growing into a communio of communities. We need pastoral plans that obey the law of the mustard seed and the principle that reality precedes structure. In other words, as mustard seeds of holiness are planted, pastoral leaders must begin shepherding them into growth, asking the questions, “Now what do they need? What do these people who are experiencing conversion need to continue to grow and flourish and begin to live on mission? What must we do to foster intimacy between God and these people and inspire mission?” Then they must do all they can to incrementally build the structures that support their growth into missionary discipleship.[12]

Let’s walk through what this could look like, acknowledging that each community needs to adapt and customize these general principles based on their circumstances and the people involved.

A pastor and a small group of individuals from his leadership dedicate themselves to formation and community. Importantly, they must desire growth and community with each other. Whether these individuals are part of staff, pastoral council, or some other combination of people will vary based on the community.

In this case, starting small, they obey the law of the mustard seed and begin probably with fewer than ten people. They gather at least weekly for formation and community, and another time specifically for group prayer. They meet one-on-one to accompany each other as well.

After several months of formation and growth into intentional community, they have the grace and the experience to begin to imagine how to plant more of these seeds. They discern together who are the next “lowest hanging fruit” among other parish leadership or parishioners. They then invite new people into the kind of intentional growth and community they have experienced.

Now, while continuing to be community with each other, the leadership, perhaps two-by-two, invites new people (parishioners who desire deeper formation, community, and fruitful mission) and accompanies them along the way. You can see how this necessarily requires more of their time. In order to create the capacity to accompany others, they discern with each other what to put aside, incrementally pruning other less fruitful responsibilities and ministries so that this branch will bear more fruit and sprout new shoots. As they do this, they slowly erect new pastoral structures to protect their growing leadership culture of community, holiness, and apostolate, because old habits die hard. These pastoral structures that are intended to protect and grow the leadership culture include some combination of regular staff prayer, staff formation, staff fun time, retreats, annual and quarterly goal-setting days, and regular—perhaps weekly—meetings for staying on track with those goals. They lean on each other for support as they expand their formation and shepherding to parishioners.

As more “shoots” begin to sprout off these branches, the leadership prune even more of the older, less fruitful ways of doing things so they can tend to the new shoots. This gets increasingly difficult, as pastoral leaders over time discern whether to prune away some fruitful ministries from their responsibilities to make room for this growing movement (much like pruning away some healthy flowers in order to make room for new growth that will surpass that of the existing flowers). Some of the new shoots need very little tending, while others need more.

The pastoral leadership makes all of these changes and adjustments in a discerning way, almost never before they need to happen. But the leadership, having first created a healthy culture of apostolic holiness within themselves, can support and advise each other in these adjustments, since their healthy culture is stably rooted and protected by the right structures.

Again, this is similar to how a healthy couple who is open to life is able to prune and reprioritize their life choices (the structures of their life together) with each new baby that they bring into their family—and not without (sometimes very difficult) sacrifice. They do this over time, as the babies come and as the combination of love and circumstances suggest, in service to each other and their family, as both a means to and an expression of love.

You can see how the above steps build on each other while never leaving the prior ones behind, in the same way that building a family consists of an accumulation of relationships. The culture I create with my wife can never be neglected as we add more children. Rather, it has to grow, and we may actually need to add various structures in a disciplined way to protect it along the way, like a weekly date night and a yearly get-away—things that we did not need to do when we were just starting out. And just as the particular culture my wife and I build and the structures that protect it are unique to my marriage, so it will be for each marriage, though certain principles will be universal.

None of this happens overnight, obviously. It starts slowly and continues slowly for a while. However, once a deeply rooted reality of apostolic holiness is in place in the pastoral leadership, and among an increasing number of members of the community—and once this growth in holiness is protected by the necessary structures—more and more people can join this stable and reliably growing movement over time.

At the end of five years, which would you rather have? A plan that was mostly ignored and eventually tossed to the side? Or, an ever-expanding culture of apostolic holiness growing with such health and vigor that it forces changes in structure from the inside out?