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.
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.
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.