Ministry Off the Platform

Years ago, I was invited to preach at a church where someone kindly but efficiently ushered me into a green room. It was a thoughtful setup. Comfortable furniture. Delectable snacks. I was treated like a guest of honor. We walked through the service flow, confirmed the details, and when we finished, I started heading toward the auditorium.

They stopped me.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to worship.”

“No, we’ve got it arranged so you can stay back here. We don’t want you to get distracted before you preach.”

“Distracted by what?”

“All the people out there.”

I paused and said, “They’re actually why I came.”

I took a seat on the front row. I worshiped with the congregation. I somehow managed to stand up at the right moment, walk to the platform without assistance, preach the sermon, and afterward I was never invited back.

That experience stayed with me. It revealed something unsettling about our church culture. Somewhere along the way, we started believing that leadership personalities need to be protected from the very people they are called to lead. We created sacred spaces to prepare for ministry while quietly distancing ourselves from the ministry itself.

If you are going to be a shepherd, you have to smell like sheep.

One of the most important things a church leader can do on Sunday is not preach well, sing well, or manage systems well. It is simply to be present.

I have known people who could preach the paint off the walls, raise the rafters with their singing voice, and impress everyone with their theological precision. But they did not know what to do with people. They were awkward. Detached. Moody. Over time, they did not endure in ministry. People will forgive missed cues, imperfect sermons, and rough edges if they know you are with them and for them. What they rarely endure is distance dressed up as devotion.

We often tell our members that if they want to connect, they should arrive early and stay late. But when church staff remain hidden, rush from task to task, or only interact with the same small circle of familiar faces, connection becomes difficult. The service may be excellent, but the shepherding feels thin.

You might say, “I’m an introvert.” I understand that. I am too. Public leadership drains me. That is why I do my recharging on Saturday. Sunday is not the day to conserve relational energy. It is the day to spend it. There is no other time in the week when so many of the people we are called to serve are gathered in one place. We do not have the luxury of hiding in private rooms rehearsing outlines while souls walk unnoticed on nearby hallways.

Jesus shows us another way. After the death of John the Baptist, He withdrew to be alone. But the crowds found Him. Scripture does not say He was irritated. It says He had compassion (Matt. 14:14). He allowed their need to interrupt His plan. He adjusted His schedule for the sake of the people. Shepherds do that.

And here is the hard truth. If the goal of Sunday is only to deliver quality content, then we might as well move entirely to livestream. Or simply tell people to tune in to someone who does it better. There will always be a sharper sermon, a tighter band, and a more polished production somewhere else. Content alone has never required incarnation.

But we do not gather merely to consume content. We gather to be formed together. And if we are going to call people to gather, then leaders must be part of that gathering. Not hovering nearby. Not protected from it. Part of it.

Presence is not accidental. It is intentional. Arriving early. Staying late. Learning names. Making eye contact. Praying with people instead of promising to pray later. Being interruptible. These moments may feel small, but small moments often carry eternal weight.

People are not distractions from ministry. They are the ministry. If the church is a business at all, it is the people business.

Paul said that he shared not only the gospel, but his life as well (1 Thessalonians 2:8). That is the work off the platform. And often, the credibility we carry onto the platform is earned quietly in the moments we think no one else is watching.

Ministry does not begin when the service starts.

It begins the moment you arrive. So, get there early. Be prepared by the time you are there. And stay until someone turns the lights out.