Show me your deacons and I'll tell you how healthy your church is.

The church is making enemies of administrators and millennials are watching.

"Those who hate me without reason outnumber the hairs of my head; many are my enemies without cause, those who seek to destroy me. I am forced to restore what I did not steal. You, God, know my folly; my guilt is not hidden from you." - Psalm 69:4-5

The raw honesty with which King David laments the target at him should tell us that we aren't likely to live completely lovable lives, especially when we step into roles that challenge existing norms in the Church.

For some of us, our portion is to pursue a system we think is good and engineer programs within the Church to such ends. Sometimes, we create systems, alter procedures, and manage new initiatives. These ideas can be ambitious to many, but usually, they spring from a desire to meet a need and for the gospel to move efficiently through faithful programs.

When others prioritise consensus, we push for efficiency. Not that these concepts are mutually exclusive. Whatever we do in the Church, the goal is to nurture all believers with the Gospel of Jesus Christ so that we can all be transformed. Whether we ask the Church to fund tertiary education, serve food to the less privileged, or visit prisoners, the goal is to touch people.

The relationships we build to achieve this are as meaningful as the programs we create and implement. Yet the reality is that we are not all equally talented at both. Some of us are drawn to processes more than we are to people. Unlike preachers, we are seldom charismatic, so we often draw suspicion for airing unpopular opinions. In my experience, we usually find ourselves misunderstood, dismissed, or resented.

The New Testament calls people like this deacons. Tasked with managing the needs of the early Church, they were appointed not because they preached well but because they administered justice faithfully. These deacons, filled with the Spirit and wisdom, distributed resources while the Apostles preached and prayed. Many of us live out this same call today.

Not that I have been appointed a deacon, but in several ways, I thrust myself into various initiatives and insist on decisive administrative actions like the first deacons. Yet, I have managed to create a personality fit for animosity. I have received several emotionally triggered attacks for even recommending that we reduce unnecessary expenses in my Church.

I have worked in the education and nonprofit sectors over the past ten years, supporting and delivering meaningful impact through various programs, which I wish to see in my congregation. Once, I had a month to coach a select list of students at a church for the SAT, all of whom did not know the examination until then. Several parents courted me to enlist their children when I was appointed to manage the project. And barely a week into the program, parents of some participants protested against my methods, as did some of my students. My consolation was that five out of nine students scored over 1000, and four now study abroad.

Doing the right thing doesn’t always earn affection in the Church. Suppose millennials like me, who are often eager to serve and implement effective strategies, continue to be met with suspicion or resentment. What assurance does the church have that we will genuinely aspire to such vital roles as deacon or elder? And is it not the Holy Spirit’s desire that these spiritual administrators be in the Church?¹

Many of us are already functioning as deacons without the title, but it feels like we’re on our own, without the love and protection of the Church.

The Church Has Always Needed Deacons

Systemic problems benefit people even in the church. It is therefore understandable that beneficiaries in such cases will resist change.

Take the situation in Acts 6 as an example. Were the Hebraic widows not better off, excluding the Grecian widows, when sharing the provisions? Calling that selfish only undermines the problem because the apostles thought it significant enough to warrant new leadership to handle such matters.

The Church had just started, but was on the verge of collapse right then, over nothing else but logistics. This wasn’t a doctrinal matter. It was simply about "waiting on tables."

The apostles didn’t want any of it. They would not be entangled in such matters. Then the world had yet to know the name, Jesus Christ. And they had been given the Great Commission for that very purpose. They were clear about their calling.

They understood that the Church needed people with a different kind of gifting: wise, Spirit-filled, practically minded leaders who could organize, coordinate, and administer justice in the name of Jesus Christ.

Even when Bible scholars debate the earliest controversies in the Church, they don’t mention this. But think about it for a moment.

The twelve apostles, anointed by our Lord and Saviour, appointed a new set of leaders to wait on tables. They were admitting a fundamental crack in the formation of the Church, what we might call a systemic failure, and what better way to deal with that than introducing administrative reforms?

Now, how do you think the beneficiaries of the status quo hitherto felt? The Hebraic Jews must have raised their eyebrows against the apostles and the newly appointed seven deacons for implying that the Hebraic Jews either didn't know what they were doing or were corrupt.

With a new leadership, the apostles called out and overruled the brethren managing food distribution.

Even today, some of us push for structure, documentation, and measurable impact. When we do this genuinely, we’re like the seven deacons, "full of the Spirit and wisdom," even if we unintentionally offend others, especially those who may benefit from faulty processes.

The first appointed deacons were solution architects. Their role was as spiritual as it was practical. They had to be both respected by the people and deeply aligned with the apostles because they were not just managing programs but preserving the unity and testimony of the Church.

I believe millennial Christians will make effective church leaders. Having experienced a VUCA world (Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity, and Ambiguity), we are professionally equipped in various areas, from project management to web development and public health. The Church can benefit enormously from these gifts.

When Doing Good Gets You in Trouble

I've been actively involved in several initiatives in the Church. I am convinced that some believers have no business with their assigned roles.

Recently, a brother from another congregation contacted my fiancée. He contacted her on a Wednesday, inviting her employer (a hospital) to conduct a free public eye screening on a Saturday (the same week) for an expected beneficiary of up to 300 people. No prior consultation. There were no feasibility checks. It was just a presumptive announcement and subtle pressure to deliver. Imagine sourcing facilitators days before your event, after planning and announcing your program to the Church.

That’s the kind of "fire brigade" approach to things that burns people out and breeds cynicism about church projects. As Apostle Peter writes in 2 Peter 1:10, “make every effort to confirm your calling and election.” That calling requires excellence in program management.

The Church needs to utilize the best hands. Let’s not assign people to responsibilities because they are available or likable. If we do average things, we’ll get average results. And there’s nothing godly about average outcomes because we are called to excellence.²

I’ve also heard tales of Church members trading punches and even taking machetes to meetings. Sometimes, the cause is that one person attempted to disrupt someone else’s preferred status quo. But who can guarantee that we won’t offend others whenever we set out to do good? Who can ensure that our strategies, however well-intended, won’t brush up against people’s insecurities, egos, or assumptions? Who can promise that some won’t take deep personal offense over how what we said or did made them feel?

When people take up arms against us over the programs we proposed or implemented, have they not taken the place of God? Shouldn't our maker be our judge since He made us talents, watching us through uncommon paths where we failed or sinned, yet He shaped us for His purposes? Other than that brief moment of satisfaction at one's downfall, what else would a self-appointed enemy gain from my loss that they will not also lose?

Despite being a man after God’s heart, David offended many people. In Psalm 69 (quoted at the start of this article), he confesses his isolation and persecution. "I am forced to restore what I did not steal," he says. That’s the reality for many of us, too: paying relational debts we never owed just because we tried to lead something well.

I hope I have not claimed righteousness in this article or pretended to be perfect. I am asking for patience and room. Room for program-oriented millennials to contribute their unique skills and experiences for the Church's growth. Room for those whose first instinct is to organize, whose hearts beat for process and clarity, not just charisma and consensus.

We need our vibrant millennials to love God enough to stay in the Church, so they will love the Church enough to become deacons and elders. If, instead, we hate them for trying to help, we’re training the next generation to stop trying.

God Calls Program Managers, too.

God has always used administrators, organizers, and problem-solvers to build His Church. He continues to do so today. God chooses them for a short time (project) as He does for a recurring need (programs).

During the exodus from Egypt, God gave Moses the Torah as a blueprint for the growing nation of Israel. He also made Bezaleel and Ohaliab, designers and project managers, to supervise the construction of the Tabernacle (Exodus 31:15). Their work was equally holy, not because the outcome was a righteous people or a tabernacle; it was sacred because they served the needs of God’s people.

Joseph was a supply-chain genius whose vision and inventories saved entire nations. Similarly, King David’s military campaigns and resourcefulness prepared King Solomon to build the first temple. When God calls people, He calls them to vision and execution, and a responsibility to withstand accusations, betrayals, and suffering.

Appointing deacons today is a commitment to the tradition of the twelve apostles. When various issues beset the young Church, the apostles didn’t pray them away. They didn’t "leave it to the Holy Spirit" as some people claim to do today. The apostles appointed deacons to resolve issues decisively. That’s what program managers do. They design processes for the unity, edification, and growth of the Church. Being likable or charismatic is merely secondary to this office.

Now, are we perfect? No. Are church administrators immune to sin? No.

God chose David to establish Israel, but David wasn’t righteous. He took another man's wife and killed him to cover up the former sin. But it was Prophet Nathan who called King David to order and repentance.

We may rightly be concerned that people do evil in the name of God and get away with it. After all, leaders, regardless of their administrative or charismatic gifts, are fallible.

We must ensure the integrity of the programs our administrators and deacons manage and the gospel. We must affirm their essence by supporting them, but we must also insist on accountability and discharge them for unrepentant sins. When God raises people to fill particular needs in His Church, and they sin, it's the mandate of others, equally called by God, to guide their amends, not to wish them dead.

1. Act 20:28

2. 2 Peter 1:3