Embedded Files
A few weeks ago, I was on the phone with my friend, Pastor Eddie. Like many conversations between ministry leaders, it didn't take long before we were talking about one of the challenges almost every church seems to face today—finding volunteers. It wasn't a new conversation, and it certainly wasn't unique to one church. Whether I'm talking with pastors, nonprofit executives, or ministry directors, I hear the same concern over and over again: "People just don't seem willing to serve like they used to."
The more I thought about that conversation, the more I realized I no longer believe that's the real problem.
The Real Problem Isn't Recruitment
I've had the privilege of serving for years at First Baptist Atlanta, working alongside ministries that depend on hundreds of volunteers every week. What I saw there shaped how I think about volunteers today: what it looks like when people are genuinely led well, not just scheduled.
That experience convinced me of something. Most churches don't struggle to find volunteers nearly as often as they struggle to lead the ones they already have. Those two challenges may sound similar, but they require completely different solutions. Recruiting more people might solve next Sunday's schedule, but it won't solve the long-term health of a ministry. Healthy volunteer cultures aren't built by constantly asking for more people; they're built by leading the people you already have so well that serving becomes contagious.
That lesson wasn't learned in a conference room or from a leadership book. It was learned by watching ministry happen every single weekend. Long before the congregation arrived, the campus was already alive. Parking teams were directing traffic while children's ministry volunteers prepared classrooms and checked supplies. Guest Services teams gathered to pray before taking their places at entrances across the campus. The media team tested cameras, lighting, and audio while security volunteers quietly walked the property, ensuring that thousands of people could worship safely. Nursery workers welcomed the youngest members of our church family, while dozens of other volunteers served in roles that few people would ever notice. Most people simply walked into a church that felt warm, organized, and ready for them. They never saw the countless hours of preparation that made those moments possible, and that's exactly the point. Great ministry often goes unnoticed because faithful volunteers quietly make excellence look effortless.
Watching that unfold week after week changed the way I think about volunteers. We often describe them as one of the church's greatest resources, but that description has never sat well with me. Resources are consumed. Volunteers aren't. They're people who have chosen to invest part of their lives in something they believe has eternal significance. Every time someone volunteers, they make a decision to give away something they'll never get back. We often talk about the importance of financial stewardship, but time is an even more precious gift. Money can be earned again. Time cannot. Every hour someone spends serving in a nursery, greeting guests, mentoring students, running cameras, preparing meals, or participating in community outreach is an hour they chose not to spend somewhere else. In a culture where families are balancing careers, school activities, aging parents, travel, and the endless demands of everyday life, that decision deserves far more intentional leadership than it often receives.
Unfortunately, many churches unintentionally reduce volunteers to open positions on a schedule. We celebrate when every classroom has a teacher and every ministry has enough people to operate, but we rarely stop to ask whether the people filling those positions are actually thriving. Somewhere along the way, ministry can become more focused on maintaining programs than developing people. The irony is hard to ignore. Churches exist to make disciples, yet it's easy for even good ministries to unintentionally overlook discipling the very people who make those ministries possible.
Protecting People From Their Own Faithfulness
Perhaps nowhere is that more evident than in the way we treat our most dependable volunteers. Every church has them. They're the people who rarely say no, who fill in when someone cancels, who stay late after everyone else has gone home, and who somehow seem willing to carry whatever burden the ministry places on them. We celebrate their faithfulness, and rightly so. But I've found myself asking a different question over the years. Why do they have to?
If one volunteer has become indispensable to a ministry, we've created dependence instead of sustainability. That's not a volunteer success story; it's a leadership issue. Too often, the most faithful servants become the most overworked because they're simply easier to ask than recruiting and developing someone new. Burnout rarely arrives dramatically. It usually happens quietly, one Sunday at a time. Another event. Another text message asking for help. Another season where "just this once" slowly becomes every week. By the time leaders notice that someone is exhausted, they've often already lost one of their strongest volunteers—not because that person stopped loving Christ or believing in the mission, but because they simply ran out of margin.
Healthy volunteer leadership requires the courage to protect people from becoming victims of their own faithfulness. Sometimes the best decision a ministry leader can make is telling someone, "Take next Sunday off. Worship with your family. We'll be okay." That may sound counterintuitive when schedules are already difficult to fill, but preserving a volunteer for years is far more valuable than exhausting them in a single season. Churches should know who is serving every week, not because we're looking for greater productivity, but because we're looking for healthier people. If the same names appear on every schedule, leadership shouldn't congratulate itself. It should ask what needs to change.
If you're looking for a church home or visiting the Atlanta area, I'd encourage you to experience First Baptist Atlanta. Whether you join in person or online, you'll find a church that remains firmly rooted in God's Word, passionate about sharing the Gospel, and committed to helping people grow in their faith. I think you'll quickly discover it's more than a place to attend—it's a place to belong.
Training, Growth, and Genuine Recognition
That shift in thinking also changes the purpose of training. Too often, churches treat volunteer training as orientation—a quick overview of responsibilities followed by the hope that people will figure everything else out. I've never believed that's enough. Training isn't simply about procedures; it's one of the clearest ways leaders communicate value. When we invest time preparing volunteers, we're telling them that their success matters, their confidence matters, and their ministry matters. People who understand both the "how" and the "why" behind their role serve with greater confidence because they know they're contributing to something much larger than a weekly assignment.
I've often said, "Training, training, training," and I mean it. But training shouldn't stop with staff members. One of the healthiest principles any church can embrace is a train-the-trainer model, where experienced volunteers intentionally mentor new volunteers. That's how leadership multiplies instead of bottlenecks. Healthy ministries don't become dependent on a handful of extraordinary people. They become communities where experienced servants are continually raising up the next generation of leaders. That's discipleship in its purest form.
None of this happens by accident. The senior and executive pastors at First Baptist Atlanta are just as invested in this as anyone on staff. They care about volunteers fulfilling what God has called them to do, whether that shows up at a men's breakfast, in the middle of Vacation Bible School chaos, or in a hundred other places people serve every week. They're constantly asking how the church can better serve the people who serve everyone else.
I've seen this play out firsthand with the choir at First Baptist Atlanta, led by my friend Pastor Matt Slemp. Volunteers of every age take ownership of things most churches assume have to come from staff. They run their own check-in during practices. Dawn and Tina make sure new members know how to navigate Planning Center so nobody feels lost trying to learn their part. They've organized themselves into section groups, not just to rehearse music together, but to make sure nobody's walk with Christ falls through the cracks along the way. What started as a volunteer team has become something closer to a family, people who help each other grow in ministry and in faith at the same time. That's what a healthy volunteer culture actually looks like, and it's exactly why so many of them stay for years instead of quietly fading out. It isn't manufactured by a program. It grows because leaders create the conditions for people to take ownership, care for one another, and keep building something that lasts.
The same principle applies to the way we think about opportunities to serve. One of the greatest gifts we can give volunteers is perspective. It's easy to leave people in the same ministry for years simply because they're doing a great job, but sometimes the best thing we can do is help them experience another part of the church. A children's ministry volunteer may discover a passion for mentoring college students. Someone serving on the media team may find tremendous fulfillment participating in local outreach. A guest services volunteer may have leadership gifts that emerge in a completely different environment. Helping people experience different ministries doesn't weaken teams; it strengthens the entire church by helping volunteers see how every ministry contributes to one mission.
Recognition deserves the same thoughtful approach. Churches should absolutely celebrate their volunteers, but I believe we've often misunderstood what genuine recognition looks like. Appreciation isn't primarily about appreciation dinners, plaques, or gift cards. Those things are meaningful, but they're not the point. The real celebration is telling the story of what God accomplished through His people. Imagine gathering your volunteers at the end of the year and reminding them that because of their faithfulness, children heard the Gospel, students found mentors, marriages were strengthened, families received hope, guests felt welcomed, and people encountered Christ. Suddenly the conversation isn't about hours served. It's about lives changed.
What Can't Be Measured — and Where Technology Fits
For nonprofit organizations, volunteer service carries another important dimension. Volunteer hours frequently become part of annual reports, grant applications, and impact statements because they demonstrate measurable investment in the mission. That's valuable information, and organizations should absolutely track it. But churches understand something those reports never fully capture. The most important outcomes of volunteer ministry cannot be measured. You'll never know the eternal impact of the nursery volunteer who allowed exhausted parents to hear the Gospel without distraction. You'll never calculate the value of a conversation between a greeter and a first-time guest who was wondering if anyone would notice they came. Some of the greatest moments in ministry will never appear in a spreadsheet.
Ironically, that's why technology has become more important than ever. Not because it replaces ministry, but because it removes distractions that keep leaders from ministry. Throughout my career, I've watched churches attempt to coordinate volunteers through spreadsheets, email chains, text messages, paper sign-up sheets, and disconnected systems. Those methods often work for a season, but as organizations grow, administration begins consuming the very resource leaders need most: time. Time spent chasing schedules is time not spent encouraging volunteers. Time spent updating spreadsheets is time not spent developing future leaders.
That's why platforms like Bugle caught my attention. Not because they offer digital check-in or volunteer scheduling—although those capabilities certainly matter—but because they solve a leadership problem rather than simply an administrative one. When volunteer communication, scheduling, service history, reporting, waivers, and engagement are managed in one place, leaders gain something far more valuable than efficiency. They gain margin. And margin allows ministry leaders to do what only they can do: encourage, mentor, disciple, and invest in people. Technology will never build a healthy volunteer culture, but it can remove enough friction that leaders are finally free to focus on relationships instead of administration.
As I think back to my call with Pastor Eddie, I'm convinced the question churches should be asking has changed. Instead of wondering how to recruit more volunteers, perhaps we should ask whether we're leading the volunteers God has already entrusted to us as well as we possibly can. Are we protecting them from burnout? Are we training them with excellence? Are we helping them discover new gifts? Are we creating opportunities for leadership? Are we celebrating the stories that remind them their service has eternal significance?
When those questions become part of a church's culture, something remarkable happens. People don't have to be convinced to serve. They invite others to join them because they've discovered that serving isn't simply another obligation on their calendar. It's one of the most meaningful expressions of their faith.
Churches don't build extraordinary volunteer ministries by finding more people.
They build them by leading people extraordinarily well.
About the Author:
Scott Pleasants is an executive leader, educator, and author who believes every organization rises or falls on its ability to develop people. Drawing on more than 30 years of experience in leadership, technology, education, and ministry, he writes about organizational culture, innovation, cybersecurity, volunteer development, and the future of leadership. His work challenges leaders to think differently, lead intentionally, and use technology to remove barriers—not replace relationships.
Page updated
Google Sites
Report abuse