In a healthy church, meeting with the pastor shouldn’t feel like winning a raffle. That was my first thought when I heard Josh Howerton describe giving church members a “once in a maybe lifetime opportunity” to sit down and ask their pastor questions.

Read that again. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. In fact, just listen to it for yourself.

What happened to the church?

I don’t mean that as a cheap shot. I mean it as a serious question. Somewhere along the way, much of evangelicalism traded the New Testament model of shepherding for a corporate structure that would have been completely foreign to the early church and the apostles.

Listening to a pastor describe access to himself as a rare privilege should give us pause. My concern is not primarily with the pastor. My concern is with the system that made such an announcement seem normal.

The New Testament presents elders as shepherds. Shepherds know their sheep. Shepherds spend time with their sheep. Shepherds walk among their sheep. Shepherds protect, teach, correct, encourage, and disciple their sheep.

The biblical imagery of the shepherd-sheep relationship is one of intimacy. It is personal, and it is relational.

A shepherd who only occasionally interacts with his flock is not functioning as a shepherd. He may be functioning as a gifted communicator. He may be functioning as an executive. He may be functioning as a public figure. He may be functioning as the face of a large organization.

But actual shepherding requires proximity.

And when the church members need a special event, a strategic meeting, or a scheduled access point just to ask questions of their pastor, something fundamental has already been lost.

The part that caught my attention even more was the explanation that followed. The purpose of these conversations, according to Howerton, is often to remove concerns that are preventing people from giving at a higher level.

Again, let that sink in. People have questions. People have concerns. People have reservations.

The questions get answered and the giving increases.

I understand the point he is making. Trust matters. People are more willing to support ministries they trust. Every pastor knows that. But the language reveals something deeper.

It sounds less like shepherding sheep and more like removing obstacles from a revenue stream.

That may not be what he intended to communicate. It is certainly what many people heard. And honestly, this is one of the unavoidable consequences of the megachurch model itself. Massive organizations require massive cash flow.

The mortgage has to be paid. The power bills have to be paid. The campuses have to be maintained. The armies of staff have to be paid. The media departments have to be funded. The production equipment has to be upgraded. The worship teams have to be staffed. The machine has to keep running.

Every month. Every quarter. Every year.

The entire structure becomes dependent upon a constant flow of cash moving through the system. And that dependence on revenue changes the incentives whether leaders acknowledge it or not.

When thousands of people stop giving, the consequences are immediate and severe. Programs disappear. Staff gets cut. Campuses close. Budgets implode. Entire ministries vanish almost overnight.

Small churches, on the other hand, live in an entirely different world. Yes, we are still commanded to give generously. Churches still have expenses. Pastors deserve support. Mission work costs money. None of that changes.

But what changes is the level of institutional dependence.

If a faithful church of one hundred people takes a financial hit, the church can survive. The people can gather in a fellowship hall. They can meet in a home. They can meet in a rented storefront. They can meet in a coffee shop. They can meet under a pavilion or even a public park if they have to.

The church continues because the church was never the building. The church was never the brand. The church was never the production. The church was never the infrastructure.

The church was the people.

Strip away every earthly asset and Christ still has His church.

A megachurch built around a sprawling corporate structure faces a completely different reality. Remove the revenue stream long enough and the entire ecosystem begins to collapse under its own weight.

That is not a criticism aimed directly at Howerton, or of any one pastor. It is a problem with the model. The model creates pressures that naturally push leaders toward organizational thinking. Attendance becomes a metric. Giving becomes a metric. Growth becomes a metric. Retention becomes a metric.

Before long, pastors start sounding less like shepherds and more like executives presenting quarterly reports.

This is exactly why my family chose a small church years ago—because we lived through that. Access to the pastor was like pulling teeth.

Today, our pastor knows us. He knows our children. He calls people. He disciples people. He visits people. If someone in our church needs to talk to him, they do not need to wait for a “once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” They pick up the phone.

That should not be considered extraordinary. That should be normal. The apostles never envisioned a brand of Christianity where the average church member viewed access to their shepherd as a rare privilege.

The biblical pattern is plain enough for anyone willing to see it. Christ gave shepherds to His church. Not celebrities. Not CEOs. Not brand managers. Not organizational architects.

Shepherds.

And shepherds are supposed to smell like sheep.