Slate magazine has a fascinating slideshow of megachurch architecture, including good commentary. You’ll find photos from Lakewood Church (Joel Osteen’s stomping ground), Willow Creek, the Crystal Cathedral (which is the only one which inspires awe), and others. Including the 21,000-seat Mormon conference center in Salt Lake City, the largest religious assembly place in the country. Really interesting stuff.

I try to be a champion for small churches. This doesn’t mean I’m anti-Big Church. Sure, I have my issues with them, but I’m also fascinated and thrilled by what some megachurches are doing–Granger, Quest, Willow Creek, Seacoast, Lifechurch, and many more. And yet…small churches, despite their own “issues,” deserve more respect than they get.

Keith Dury’s column last week was called “Seven Advantages of Starting Out in a Small Church.” He tries to encourage his ministerial students at Indiana Wesleyan, most of whom come from large churches, to consider beginning their ministry in a small church. One of his points was “Small churches give you a chance to do everything.”

In one year at a small church you’ll get to do 25 times the things you’ll get to do on a large church staff. Weddings, baptisms, funerals, hospital visitation, budgeting, preaching, prayer meetings, leading board meetings, and a hundred other things are normal for a year’s work in a small church. On a large church staff you may serve ten years before you get to do 90% of a minister’s ordinary work.

In a later point, Drury emphasizes that small churches let you preach, whereas if you’re on staff at a church of 1000, you may rarely (if ever) get the chance to preach. (And yet you want to be called a “preacher”?)

The same issues apply to laypersons. In large churches, you might take spiritual gifts tests and then get slotted into roles consistent with your test scores. If your test-determined gift is Hospitality, then you become a greeter. I really really despise that, for several reasons.

For one, your “gifts” will vary, depending on the test you take. I normally score high in Teaching, Administration, and Giving. But in a recent online test, Music, Writing, Hospitality, and Giving were my high scores. And in another, my high gifts were Giving, Hospitality, Missionary, and Music. Way too many questions are based on what you currently do or have done. If I attended a large church, my piano playing wouldn’t be of sufficient calibre and would go unused and unappreciated. But I use it all the time in a small church, and thus, Music emerges as a key gift. It has nothing, in my view, to do with any actual divinely-imparted gift.

Additionally: why limit your Christian service to one or two areas (your areas of giftedness)? As a layperson in a small (120 persons) church, I’m able to do some of everything. I operate in the areas of many of the gifts, regardless of whether those are “spiritual gifts.” I give, I show hospitality, I teach, I lead, I evangelize, I encourage, I show faith, I serve, I show mercy. I even preach occasionally.

When a church need arises, my involvement never depends on a stupid test score. If I feel God wants me involved, I do it. Whether or not I’m any good at it. How is that theologically wrong?

In a large church, I could do only a few things. And I wouldn’t be able to do the thing that gives me the most joy (play the keyboard). But in a small church, there are no restrictions. I can do it all, and I’m severely needed. I like that.

What is most important to a first-time visitor to your church? David Zimmerman, writing on Church Marketing Sucks, says, “First-time visitors care most about not embarrassing themselves.” He then gives some examples of what a visitor might fear:

• How they are dressed. Too casual, or too dressed-up?
• Will their kids acts up and make a scene?
• Will they get confused and stand up at the wrong time?
• When the offering is taken, will they feel pressured to give?

Zimmerman mentions how some churches ask visitors to stand. I haven’t seen that since college, when a UB church here in Huntington had visitors stand and introduce themselves (for the record, it didn’t make me uncomfortable then, but would now). He also mentions attending a church that reversed it, asking the regulars to stand and the visitors to remain seated. He then found himself “surrounded by towering members in this intimidating church, each hanging over me as they offered me an obligatory welcome and handshake.” Yeah, that would make me claustrophobic.

Here are some other things that can cause a visitor some anxiety or awkwardness.

• As you enter the church, someone shakes your hand and states a boilerplate welcome, and then goes on to the next person. You’re left standing by yourself, feeling conspicuous and wondering, “Where do I go now?” Contrast that with a greeter who sticks with you, shows you around, and genuinely takes an interest in you.
• Uh oh, they’re doing communion. What’s the procedure? Do I need to get out of my pew and go somewhere? Can visitors even take communion here or do you need to be a member? Do I drink and eat as soon as I get the elements, or do I wait? I need to watch everyone closely to make sure I don’t screw it up.
• Standing around by yourself, waiting for the service to star. Nobody comes up to speak to you, even though it’s obvious you’re a visitor. You feel sooo conspicuous.
• As a lifelong church attender, I know that people stake out regular pews. I’m afraid of sitting in someone else’s “personal” place. At a UB church some years ago, an older couple gave me a bothered look, because I apparently took “their” pew. Hey, I’m sorry.
• If the church has a greeting time during the service, this can be a nice thing. But it can also be terribly awkward if you’re a visitor and people still ignore you. Or if they give you a quick “Nice to have you” welcome, and then turn to someone else–a regular, someone they know–and begin talking about how their week went.

At any event, I’m always hyper-conscious of how I’m dressed. Am I over-dressed, or under-dressed? I need to get over that, but at age 50, it’s pretty ingrained and I’m not sure my apparent low sense of self can conquer this persistent insecurity.

Dawn Nicole Baldwin is CEO of AspireOne, which helps churches (mostly very large ones) with branding and web strategy. She’s a real authority on branding, particularly as it relates to the church world. She’s tightly associated with Willow Creek. Here are some tidbits from her afternoon session on branding.

• Ask, “What do we, as a church, want to be known for?” If we’re not intentional about defining who we are, others will do it for us.
• “Brand experience” includes many ways people interact with you: word of mouth, your website, mailers, publications, your logo, and much more. The brand is not just the logo.
• Brand strategy: ask these three questions: Who are you serving? What are your unique strengths? How do you reach people with impact.
• When ministry leaders say, “We need a brochure,”…do they really? I face that at the denominational level. Everyone wants a brochure, and I don’t think they’re all that valuable.
• Blanding: trying to be all things to all people. You water all your uniquenesses down.
• She doesn’t like churches giving different brands to a bunch of church ministries. She doesn’t like having different URLs for the various ministries. Prefers having everything under the single brand of the church and the church website.
• Identify your biggest fans (brand advocates). In churches, your church’s biggest fans are often new Christians.
• Sometimes the senior pastor is such a presence that he is the brand. Go to the website for Houston’s Lakewood Church. You’ll see Joel Osteen plastered everywhere. You wonder whether the website is for the church or a commercial for his books.
• Seacoast Church is a multi-site church with 11 campuses, one of which is five hours from water. Did the name “Seacoast” fit them? They decided that their brand transcended geography.
• She gave away some gifts. One was to the person who had been in his/her communications role the longest. A gal sitting in front of me said “16 years,” and nobody could top that. So she got a free book. After the workshop, I told her, “I’ve been doing my job for 26 years.” But since the focus here is local church communications, I didn’t inject myself.