Thinking Before Speaking is an Important Leadership Skill

Some of the best leaders I know are often the quietest ones in the room.

They’re not disengaged. They’re not distracted. And they’re certainly not unprepared. They’re thinking.

Yet in many ministry contexts, silence gets misread. If you don’t speak quickly, you must not have much to say. If you don’t jump in immediately, you must not care. If you pause, reflect, or hesitate, you risk being labelled unsure or passive.

There is a common saying“Still waters run deep.”

Fast Talkers Get Credit, Deep Thinkers Get Results

Modern leadership culture rewards speed. The quickest response often gets the most attention. The person who fills the silence gets assumed authority. In church meetings, this can quietly shape who is seen as decisive and who is overlooked.

But speed is not the same as wisdom.

Introverted leaders tend to process internally before speaking. They listen longer, weigh more factors, and consider consequences others miss. By the time they speak, they’re not brainstorming out loud, they’re offering something refined.

In my research with pastors, this pattern showed up repeatedly. Introverted leaders are slower to speak in meetings, but their contributions carried unusual clarity when they did. The problem wasn’t their leadership. The problem was that the system didn’t always know how to read it.

Scripture Has a Lot to Say About Pauses

The Bible is remarkably suspicious of quick words.

“Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry” (James 1:19).

Even Proverbs reminds us, “Even fools are thought wise if they keep silent” (Prov. 17:28). That’s a humbling verse for leaders who equate volume with insight.

Jesus Himself regularly disrupted the pressure to respond immediately. One of the most striking moments happens in John 8. A crowd demands an instant judgment. The tension is high. The moment is public.

And Jesus does something unexpected.

He bends down and writes in the dirt.

No rush. No reaction. Just space.

That pause wasn’t indecision. It was authority. Jesus refused to let urgency hijack wisdom.

Silence Is Not Absence

One of the most damaging assumptions in leadership culture is that silence equals disengagement. In reality, silence often signals deep attention.

Introverted leaders are frequently:

  • tracking group dynamics
  • noticing emotional undercurrents
  • praying internally
  • connecting present conversations to past experiences
  • considering long-term implications

That’s not withdrawal. That’s leadership beneath the surface.

The tragedy is that when churches don’t value this kind of processing, they unintentionally train leaders to talk before they’re ready. Over time, speed replaces discernment, and confidence replaces wisdom.

Why This Matters for Ministry

Ministry decisions carry weight. They shape people’s lives, families, and faith. Not every decision should be made at conversational speed.

Leaders who think before they speak help slow the room down. They introduce discernment into reactive spaces. They remind teams that silence can be productive, not awkward.

If you’re an introverted leader, you don’t need to apologize for your pace. You don’t need to compete with louder voices. And you don’t need to force yourself into constant verbal processing just to be seen as engaged.

Your pause may be the most responsible thing you bring to the table.

A Word to Leadership Teams

If you lead alongside introverts, resist the urge to measure contribution by airtime. Some of the most faithful leadership happens quietly.

Ask better questions.
Allow space after discussions.
Invite reflection, not just reaction.

You may discover that the leader who speaks last often speaks best.

Thinking Is Not Hesitation, It’s Stewardship

Jesus never confused urgency with obedience. He moved decisively when the time was right, but He never let pressure rush Him.

In a world that prizes quick answers, the church desperately needs leaders who think before they speak. Leaders who pause. Leaders who pray. Leaders who understand that wisdom often arrives after the noise dies down.

Thinking before speaking isn’t a liability.

It’s a leadership skill.

And the church would be healthier if we treated it that way.

An Introvert with Public Gifts

For a long time, I thought something was wrong with me.

I loved preaching, teaching, and leading, but after Sundays, conferences, or camps, I was exhausted. Not “I need a nap” tired. More like “please don’t talk to me for 24 hours” tired. I assumed that if God had really called me to public ministry, it shouldn’t cost me this much internally.

Then I finally found language for it.

I’m an introvert with public gifts.

That single sentence reframed everything.

Introversion Isn’t the Opposite of Leadership

Somewhere along the way, the church absorbed a quiet assumption, leaders are extroverts. If you’re energized by crowds, quick with words, and always ready to engage, leadership must be your sweet spot. If you’re reflective, inwardly processing, and need solitude to recharge, you must be better suited for behind-the-scenes roles.

But introversion has never been about ability. It’s about energy.

Introverts don’t avoid people. We engage deeply, then we pay a cost for it. Public ministry doesn’t repel us, it drains us. That doesn’t mean we’re bad at it. It means we steward it differently.

Public Gifts, Private Processing

One of the consistent findings in my research was this, introverted pastors often thrive in visible leadership roles, but they do their best work before and after the spotlight, not during it.

They prepare deeply.
They reflect longer.
They replay conversations.
They pray through decisions quietly.
They process inwardly what others process out loud.

That means the sermon didn’t start on Sunday morning, it started days earlier in silence. The leadership decision didn’t happen in the meeting, it happened on a walk, in prayer, or sitting alone with a notebook.

The gift is public. The process is private.

And that’s not a flaw, it’s a feature.

Jesus Fits This Pattern Better Than We Admit

Jesus was fully comfortable teaching crowds, confronting leaders, and commanding attention. Those are public gifts if there ever were any. Yet His pattern was unmistakable.

He withdrew often.
He prayed alone.
He avoided unnecessary attention.
He didn’t rush to respond.
He chose silence when others demanded noise.

Jesus didn’t lack social ability. He lacked the need to perform.

He knew when to step forward and when to step away. That rhythm wasn’t weakness, it was wisdom.

Why This Matters for Pastors and Leaders

If you’re an introverted leader with public gifts, here’s the danger, you’ll assume exhaustion means disobedience. You’ll think needing quiet means you’re failing. You’ll try to imitate extroverted rhythms that slowly hollow you out.

That’s how burnout sneaks in wearing the mask of faithfulness.

You don’t need to become louder.
You don’t need to be “on” all the time.
You don’t need to apologize for needing space.

You need to honour how God wired you.

Public ministry will always cost you something. The goal is not to eliminate the cost but to recover properly so you can keep showing up with integrity.

A Word to Churches and Teams

If you lead alongside introverts, pay attention to what you might be missing.

Silence is not disengagement.
Stillness is not laziness.
Needing space is not selfishness.

Some of your most prayerful leaders won’t dominate meetings.
Some of your most discerning pastors will speak last, not first.
Some of your most faithful servants will care deeply without broadcasting it.

The Body of Christ needs both visible energy and quiet depth. One without the other becomes unhealthy.

Naming It Changes Everything

When I finally said out loud, “I’m an introvert with public gifts,” I stopped fighting myself. I stopped spiritualizing exhaustion. I stopped assuming that leadership had to feel energizing all the time to be right.

Instead, I learned to lead with honesty, rest without guilt, and serve without pretending.

If that phrase resonates with you, maybe it’s because you’ve been carrying the same tension quietly for years.

You’re not broken.
You’re not unfit.
You’re not failing.

You’re an introvert with public gifts.

And God has always used people like that.

Rest is Not a Reward

Some pastors treat rest like it is a gold medal at the end of a ministry marathon, the prize you get only after you have preached, visited, emailed, texted, counselled, solved a crisis, cleaned up the youth room, and contemplated the meaning of life in the parking lot. In other words, we rest only when we are one sermon away from burning toast instead of burning bright.

The problem, of course, is that God never treated rest like a treat. He baked it right into the recipe for being human. It was never meant to be the finish line; it was meant to be part of the rhythm.

Genesis tells us that God rested on the seventh day.
Not because He was tired. Not because the angels had worn Him out with questions. He rested because He was modelling the kind of life that actually works. From the very beginning, God wove rest into the fabric of creation. If the Creator of the universe practiced rest, then His pastors probably should not act like rest is optional, or worse, sinful.

And then you get to the Sabbath command.
It sits right there with the big ones. No idols, no adultery, take a nap. God does not say, “Rest if you earned it.” He says, “Rest because you exist.” It is a gift, not a gold star.

Then Jesus comes along in the New Testament and, frankly, He doubles down. Jesus rested often and unapologetically. He took off to lonely places to pray. He napped in boats. He ate long meals. He withdrew from the crowds even when people had legitimate needs. Jesus, the most productive human in history, had a rhythm that would make most pastors feel guilty. But He was not guilty, He was healthy.

If the Son of God can say no, step away, sleep through a storm, and take time to breathe, then introverted pastors certainly can too. Rest is not laziness. Rest is obedience. It is humility. It is admitting we are not God, we are not infinite, and no amount of caffeine can magically make us omnipresent.

For introverted pastors, this matters even more. We recharge differently. We burn out differently. And we recover differently. When we treat rest like a bonus instead of a baseline, we get worn thin, sharp around the edges, emotionally brittle, and spiritually foggy. That is when even good ministry starts feeling like punishment.

So here is the truth you already know but probably hate to admit:
Rest is not a reward for surviving your week.
Rest is a requirement for serving your King.

Build it into your rhythm. Schedule it like a meeting you refuse to cancel. Guard it like you guard your preaching time. Let Sabbath be Sabbath again, not an afterthought squeezed between two ministry emergencies.

Rest is not a reward. It is a reminder.
A reminder that God is God, and we are not.
A reminder that we serve from fullness, not exhaustion.
A reminder that the Shepherd leads us beside still waters, not into endless hustle.

And if anyone asks why you are resting, just smile and say what Jesus said, “The Sabbath was made for people.” Then go take your nap with a clean conscience.

Are you in a Barren or Bearing Season?

Do you realize that the answer to this question may have everything to do with your attitude toward the season you’re in? It’s easy to bear fruit when life is good, ministry is healthy, and God’s favour is palpable. But can you continue to bear fruit during a “dark night of the soul” kind of season?

I was “let go” from a ministry position in 2011. After two years of struggle and challenge, the church saw its future best without me. It’s true, we had a difference in philosophy of ministry. The larger issue, I have come to believe after years of reflection, is that I was the wrong personality fit. I was an introvert working with 7 extroverted pastors, and I didn’t have the tools at the time to address the misaligned expectations and communication gaps.

During the interim, I still needed to put food on the table for my family. While I struggled to find another ministry position, I took a job in construction.

I was bitter because this was below me.

That was my attitude. I would ask God, Why am I here? Haven’t I served you well? Don’t I deserve a ministry position? I am the most educated person here, but I am at the bottom of the hierarchy! Lord, why have You forsaken me? Why are pastors with less education and less experience getting hired over me?

I was focused solely on myself and what had been taken from me. It wasn’t a healthy place mentally, and when I slowed down to listen to God, He started gently correcting me. He helped me be thankful that we never missed a mortgage payment or even a meal. I was thankful to have the support of my amazing wife. I was thankful to have the opportunity to provide pulpit supply at the church we began attending. There were countless ways that God was blessing us, but I was missing it because I was only focused on what I had lost.

Then came the big question: God, I have been called to pastoral ministry, why have you kept me from my calling?

The answer: You are still a pastor, your church just looks different.

God was clear: if I am called to be a pastor, then I can fulfill that calling, even while building houses. So I made the mental shift and told God, Okay, I will build houses for free, and they will pay me to be their staff pastor. Of course, I didn’t announce that to my foreman, but that shift in attitude changed everything. I went from a pitiful, barren season to a beautiful bearing season.

Let’s be honest, our feelings are not a switch that we can simply turn on or off. Writing about changing my attitude was much simpler than the actual process, but I want to encourage you to do the difficult work.

1. Admit Your Feelings of Self-Pity

Perhaps it’s not even self-pity; maybe it’s something stronger, maybe not quite that strong, but you know your attitude is not helping you. We can’t deal with the problem until we admit there is a problem. If you feel you are in a barren season but you’re not sure why, ask God to reveal it to you.

2. Give it to God

I know, I know, it’s super cliche. That doesn’t make it any less true. I wrote above that I simply made a mental shift, but it wasn’t just about convincing myself that there’s light at the end of the tunnel. I had to give my concerns and anger and pride and every other negative feeling to God. He heard my lament and my accusations and my cry for help.

3. Repent of Sin

The Father lovingly revealed to me that I was deep in pride. Funny, isn’t it, that my loss of self-worth was rooted in my pride? So I began the process of repenting, turning away from sin and toward God. It wasn’t quick nor easy, but it was so good. This is the kind of work the Holy Spirit will do in us when we humble ourselves and allow Him to speak into our lives.

4. Walk it Out

This is the tough part.

Why?

Because I had the same construction job. My circumstances hadn’t changed, and my reputation hadn’t revived. It can be difficult to change your attitude when none of the things that brought you to that place have changed. Paul, who wrote those inspiring words, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength,” was writing from a place of physical stuck-ness, but spiritually victorious. And while we are in desert seasons, we too can bear much fruit, and fruit that will last, through Christ who gives us strength.

The Ideal Self

Dear Introverted Reader,

Be honest with me, do you ever wish that you were more introverted?

Have you ever observed your brother-in-law at a family wedding, wearing his tie on his forehead like a headband, dancing like an absolute fool? Part of you is embarrassed by his absolute void of shame for causing such a scene, but another part of you is envious of his lack of inhibitions, free from liquid courage, no less!

I confess, I believe life would be easier if I were more extroverted.

What’s it like to flit around a room like a butterfly visiting each flower in a field, picking up energy as you go? What’s it like to make a phone call without taking time to get psyched up first and to re-calm afterward? What’s it like to be at a convention and prefer to be in groups of three, introducing yourself and saying three fun facts rather than hiding in a bathroom that’s off-the-beaten-path in sweet solitude?

I’m not saying that I want to be an extrovert, but it would be nice to be able to act more extroverted some of the time. If you can relate to that feeling, you are certainly not alone!

In her book, The Introvert Advantage, Marti Olsen Laney reported a study that had been replicated three times. Both introverts and extroverts were asked whether they would prefer their ideal self to be introverted or extroverted, and which they would prefer in their ideal leader. Both groups preferred their ideal self and their ideal leader to be extroverted.

I’m sure we’d all like to change things about ourselves, but much like our height, there’s not much we can do to cause permanent change. For better or worse, in my conversations with introverted pastors, a quiet pattern emerged: they were able to wear a mask of extroversion for about half a decade, but around that time, something had to give: their health, their joy, or their job. Susan Cain refers to this as the Rubber Band Theory.

When we act in ways that align with our personality preferences, we are like a rubber band at rest. Conversely, when we are required to do things that go against our natural patterns, we are like the rubber band pulled further towards its limits. We are elastic, and we can stretch ourselves, but only so much before we break.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still proud to be an introvert and thankful for the gifts that come with this personality type. We, as introverts, have many gifts to offer the church, and need to be confident in who God has created us to be, but it’s ok to be honest about our struggles too.

If you have spent years stretching yourself thin trying to act like someone you are not, maybe it’s time to let the tension ease. When you minister from your true wiring, you end up offering people something far better than performance, your presence.

Is This a Conversation Worth Having?

I am currently taking my research from my dissertation and writing a book for introverted church leaders. I trust it will be helpful for all introverted believers; in fact, I think it’s a worthwhile read for all extroverted believers too, but the focus is on introverted church leaders.

The purpose of the book is to openly and honestly explore the strengths and challenges of being an introvert in church leadership. In doing so, there is a risk of portraying introverts as humble saints quietly following Jesus while avoiding being steamrolled by gregarious extroverted bulldozers. That is not my intention with the book. I am not shaming extroverts nor sanitizing introverts.

There have been times when I’ve questioned whether this book is relevant or whether this topic is worth exploring. Then something happens that reminds me exactly why this book is important. Let me share two very recent examples.

I regularly post videos on social media about faith, leadership, and introversion. I shared a short clip of myself, an introverted worshipper, unable to contain my excitement when the beat drops. The joke is that I went from standing completely still to gently moving side to side and tapping my coffee cup to the beat. It was a silly video poking fun at the fact that introverts are usually less outwardly expressive in their worship; it wasn’t meant to be serious. However, I received some comments on the video that made me realize this book is relevant.

One viewer commented:

Bro, I don’t even remember if I was ever an introvert. Since the fire of God entered my life, the word “introvert” doesn’t exist for me.

Another individual remarked to the first:

Haha YES!!! Good for you!! Same here… when it comes to Jesus I am LOUD!! I am a completely different person by His grace . Me He continue to bless you! [sic]

The message is clear: mature Christians are not introverts. In fact, if you have the fire of God within you, you will be delivered from the “sin” of introversion. Once you become a mature Christian, you will become a “completely different person by His grace,” a person who is no longer hindered by the enemy’s flaming arrows of introversion.

In his book Blessed are the Misfits, Brant Hansen aptly stated:

When one person insinuates that another must be spiritually lacking because of a dearth of feeling, it’s worthwhile pointing out that this is utterly foreign to the biblical concept of bearing fruit.

Another inspired text reads:

The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart (1 Samuel 16:7b).

The Sunday following these online comments, I was talking with a dear saint between church services. Being fully aware that I am our church’s resident introvert, she shared with me her own struggles as an introverted Christian. She had been advised to stop referring to herself as an introvert because she was making agreements with the enemy. Proverbs 18:21 is clear: our words hold the power of life and death. This introspective and reserved woman was told to stop speaking curses over herself, or she might never be free.

These stories might sound extreme, but they reflect common conversations within the church. I’ve been encouraged many times to stop calling myself an introvert. I’ve spoken with numerous pastors and laypeople who have been discouraged from making such negative statements about themselves. These comments are not meant maliciously; I don’t believe the people involved had any bad intentions. However, they reveal a deeper issue—one that has shaped church leadership expectations for decades: extroversion has become the assumed spiritual default.

Taking The Scenic Route

In my conversations with introverted leaders, I have found many common experiences. One of those experiences is a true distaste for class participation marks. Maybe you relate to that scenario, the feeling of wanting to speak up but not having anything you feel is worth sharing, at least not yet. The discussion keeps going, and by the time you have a polished nugget to offer, the class has moved on well past that point. Or, even worse, you have the nugget ready, but there’s no room in the conversation to insert yourself, so the moment passes, and you sink into your chair, waving goodbye to more class participation points.*

            Perhaps you have had people comment, “Every time you share, it’s so good! You need to talk more!” You wish you could talk more in those staff meetings or classroom settings, but you just can’t conjure up deep thoughts in shallow spaces.

            Let me give you some encouraging news: there is a scientific explanation for this! It’s not that you are not intelligent enough; it’s not that you are simply too slow-minded to keep up with the extroverts in the room. You are wired for depth, not speed.

            A team led by Dr. Debra Johnson at the University of Iowa used positron emission tomography (PET) scans to measure cerebral blood flow in introverts and extroverts. The results were remarkable. They showed that introverts and extroverts literally process the world through different brain pathways.

            When an extrovert takes in information, the neutral signal follows a relatively short route through areas of the brain associated with sensory experience, touch, and action. It’s the fast lane. This explains why extroverts tend to think and speak in the moment; they are wired for real-time processing.

            Introverts, on the other hand, take the scenic route. Their neural pathway travels through regions of the brain associated with long-term memory, problem-solving, and reflection, specifically the frontal lobes, anterior thalamic nuclei, and hippocampus. It’s not slower in terms of intelligence; it’s simply a longer, deeper route. Information takes time to move through memory, emotion, and analysis before emerging as words or decisions. That’s why, by the time you’re ready to share your well-crafted thought, the conversation has often moved on. Your brain was doing more work, not less.

            If you’ve ever been told, “You think too much” before you speak, that’s not a flaw. That’s evidence that your brain is wired for depth over immediacy. You’re processing connections, implications, and emotions, not just reacting to stimuli. Extroverts bring quick insights and energy to the room; introverts bring synthesis, reflection, and perspective.

            In ministry, that means your slower pace in meetings or discussions is not a weakness; it’s a strength! When you speak, you’re not adding noise, you’re adding weight. Your words carry thoughtfulness because your brain literally took time to travel the long road to get there. God designed you with the neural circuitry for contemplation. And in a world addicted to speed, that’s a gift the church desperately needs.

* I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately as I plan to begin teaching some college-level courses in the near future. I think I may have come up with a reasonable solution: students can choose one of two options. Option one, the traditional marks given for class participation, with one caveat: speaking often, forcefully, or with great volume will not equal a high mark; participation will be graded on the value the speaker brings to the conversation. Option two: Students can write a short reflection after each class to demonstrate that they have mentally engaged with the material and can articulate their thoughts after some time to reflect.

Introverted Doesn’t Mean Indifferent

“I just wish you’d speak up more.”
If you’re an introverted leader, you’ve probably heard that before, maybe from a colleague, a board member, or even a well-meaning church member. It’s usually said kindly, but it reveals a deeper misunderstanding of quiet people.

We often assume that passion looks loud, that leadership looks busy, and that silence means disengagement. But if you’ve ever been led by a deeply thoughtful, prayerful introvert, you know that’s not true.

Introverted doesn’t mean indifferent.

1. The Misreading of Quiet Leaders

Introverts tend to process internally before responding. In meetings, they may sit quietly while others talk, not because they have nothing to say, but because they’re still thinking. When the moment passes, it’s easy for others to interpret that as apathy.

In reality, it’s the opposite.
Introverts are often more engaged than they appear. They’re observing the dynamics in the room, weighing the words being said, and considering the ripple effects of decisions. Where an extroverted leader might process ideas aloud, an introvert does the same work silently, with equal care and conviction.

During my doctoral research, an introverted paster remarked, “By the time I speak, I’ve already written and edited three versions of my response in my head.” That’s not disinterest, that’s discipline.

2. The Depth of Quiet Concern

Introverted leaders often express care in ways that are easy to miss.
They may not rush to console someone publicly, but they’ll follow up quietly with a note, a text, or a prayerful conversation later. They may not voice opinions in every meeting, but they’ll stay up late reflecting and asking God for wisdom on how to serve best.

Their care runs deep, even when it runs silent.

That’s why churches need to learn to see beneath surface energy. Outward enthusiasm is wonderful, but it’s not the only sign of engagement. Jesus told us, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Luke 12:34). For some leaders, that treasure is in words; for others, it’s in attention. Introverts treasure people by listening to them deeply.

3. Jesus Was Never Indifferent, but He Was Often Quiet

When we think about Jesus’ leadership, we often picture His public moments, the teaching on the mount, the feeding of the five thousand, and the fiery temple cleansing. But much of His ministry happened quietly: private conversations, quiet prayers, deliberate pauses.

In John 8, when confronted by an angry crowd demanding a reaction, Jesus stooped down and wrote in the dirt. He didn’t rush to respond. He created space for reflection, for Himself and for them.

That’s the kind of leadership our world desperately needs: not reactive, but reflective. Not indifferent, but intentional.

4. Why Quiet Care Matters

The introverted way of caring doesn’t draw attention to itself, and maybe that’s the point. Paul reminds us that the quieter parts of the body are often the most indispensable (1 Corinthians 12:22).

Introverted pastors may not always lead with fanfare, but they often lead with faithfulness, quietly preparing sermons long after everyone else has gone home, praying over names in a church directory, writing personal notes of encouragement, or simply sitting with someone in silence.

These quiet acts of care rarely trend, but they transform.

5. Creating Space for Different Kinds of Passion

Churches flourish when they learn to value different temperaments of passion. Not all fire burns the same way.

  • Some flames dance high and visible.
  • Others burn low and steady.

Both give light.

We do a disservice to the Body of Christ when we assume one kind of energy is holier than another. The extrovert’s enthusiasm stirs hearts; the introvert’s steadiness anchors them. One leads the song; the other listens for harmony.

6. A Call for Reframing

If you’re an introverted leader, hear this: your quietness doesn’t make you less spiritual, less passionate, or less called. The way you care may not always be seen, but it is felt. You don’t have to match someone else’s volume to match their devotion.

And if you’re serving alongside an introvert, resist the urge to measure their heart by their noise level. Ask questions. Give them time. Watch how they love in small, deliberate ways. You might discover a depth of compassion that words could never capture.

The Quiet Passion of Jesus

When we look at Jesus, we see both bold proclamation and quiet presence. He could speak to thousands, and He could sit in silence with one hurting soul. His passion wasn’t measured by how loudly He preached but by how fully He loved.

Introverted doesn’t mean indifferent. It often means someone is loving you in a way that doesn’t demand attention, with prayer, thoughtfulness, and peace.

And in a world addicted to noise, that kind of love just might sound the most like Jesus.

What Would Jesus Do?

If you were a Christian in the 90s, you are undoubtedly familiar with WWJD bracelets, a simple reminder to live like Jesus in everyday life. But have you ever stopped to really ask, What would Jesus do… if He were a pastor in 2025?

Would He have a podcast? Run a leadership conference? Post sermon clips to Instagram Reels? Maybe. But knowing what we know of Jesus’ life and habits, I think He’d do ministry a little differently.

In a world obsessed with visibility, Jesus valued withdrawal. In a culture that rewards volume, He prized listening. In a time when crowds demanded constant access, He often chose solitude.

1. Jesus Knew When to Step Away

Luke 5:16 says, “Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.”
That’s not a one-off moment of burnout recovery; it’s a pattern. Even when ministry was booming, He slipped away. When the crowds pressed in, He stepped out.

If Jesus led a church today, I don’t think He’d buy into our unspoken rule that busyness equals faithfulness. He’d probably close His laptop midweek, take a long walk by the river, and remind us that fruit grows in silence before it’s seen in public.

The Son of God didn’t fear missing out, He feared missing the Father’s voice.

2. Jesus Didn’t Need to Be the Loudest Voice in the Room

When Jesus spoke, people listened, not because He shouted, but because He carried authority. He asked questions. He told stories. He paused. He let silence do its work.

Our modern church culture tends to equate charisma with calling, as if the Spirit moves most when the mic is hot and the energy is high. But some of Jesus’ most profound moments happened in whispers, in quiet homes, on secluded hillsides, around small tables.

Imagine Jesus at a staff meeting today. I don’t think He’d dominate the conversation. He’d listen carefully, ask heart-level questions, and speak only when it mattered most. His power wasn’t in performance but in presence.

3. Jesus Focused on Depth, Not Numbers

We often celebrate ministry through metrics such as attendance, engagement, and growth curves. Jesus poured into twelve. And within that twelve, He gave special attention to three.

He could draw crowds of thousands, yet He consistently chose smaller circles. That’s not a strategy of inefficiency, it’s a vision for transformation. Jesus knew that deep roots produce lasting fruit.

If He led a church today, I suspect He’d spend less time on the stage and more time around tables. He’d still preach to the multitudes, but He’d invest the best of His energy in a handful of people, teaching, mentoring, and walking with them until they learned to walk with God themselves.

4. Jesus Valued Being Over Doing

When Martha was busy serving and Mary was sitting quietly at His feet, Jesus gently said, “Mary has chosen what is better” (Luke 10:42).

That doesn’t mean He disapproved of hard work, He simply knew that our identity isn’t earned by ministry activity. The modern church often measures success by output. Jesus measures it by obedience.

I imagine Jesus walking into some of our leadership conferences today and asking, “How’s your soul?” Not, “How’s your strategy?”

A Different Kind of Ministry

Jesus would thrive in any era, but He’d probably surprise us with His methods. He’d still love the crowds but never chase them. He’d still teach truth, but with compassion and rest in His tone. He’d still confront hypocrisy, but without self-promotion.

He’d remind us that the Kingdom doesn’t expand through noise but through love.
That power isn’t proven by personality but by presence.
That sometimes the holiest thing a leader can do is stop, breathe, and listen for the still, small voice of God.

In short, if Jesus were ministering today, He’d still do exactly what He’s always done:
Withdraw to pray, walk slowly with people, tell stories that reveal the heart of God, and give His life for others.

And maybe that’s our cue. In a loud world, perhaps following Jesus means learning again to live quietly, with courage, conviction, and deep communion with the Father.

How the Church Accidentally Became Extroverted

Have you ever noticed that in most churches, the microphone seems to find the loudest voice in the room? Somewhere along the way, modern Christianity began to equate spiritual vitality with charisma. The more visible, energetic, and expressive a person is, the more “spiritually alive” we assume they must be. Meanwhile, the quieter, more reflective believers among us are often overlooked, not because they lack faith, but because they express it differently.

This isn’t a new problem, and it’s not one anyone set out to create. The church didn’t intentionally become extroverted, it happened by accident.

The Rise of the Extroverted Church

Western culture has long celebrated the extrovert. From the classroom to the boardroom, we reward those who can think quickly, speak confidently, and fill silence with sound. It’s no surprise that the church, living and breathing within this same cultural air, absorbed those values too.

In many traditions, especially since the revivalist movements of the 18th and 19th centuries, passionate expression became the sign of genuine faith. The “on fire” Christian was the one who spoke up, volunteered for everything, and never seemed to need a break. Personality and spirituality quietly merged. And the message, though never spoken outright, was clear: to be a good Christian leader, you had to be outgoing, energetic, and endlessly available.

Over time, churches began to structure themselves around this model. We built programs that require constant interaction, meetings that reward fast talkers, and worship services designed for high engagement and visible enthusiasm. None of that is inherently bad, but it subtly trains us to equate loudness with leadership.

When Quiet Feels Like a Problem

For introverted pastors and leaders, this can be exhausting. I’ve sat through team meetings where I said very little, not because I didn’t care, but because I needed time to process. Later, I’d find out that others thought my silence meant I wasn’t interested. The truth is, I was deeply engaged, I just wasn’t externalizing my thoughts in real time.

Many introverts in ministry feel this same tension. We’re called to lead in a system that often prizes traits we don’t naturally possess. We can preach, teach, and lead effectively, but the constant demand for outward energy leaves us drained. And for those in the congregation, being an introvert can feel like spiritual deficiency. When quiet reflection is mistaken for apathy, the church loses a vital part of its soul.

The Hidden Strengths of Quiet Faith

Introversion isn’t a weakness to overcome, it’s a strength to embrace. Scripture is filled with examples of faithful people who led from stillness.*

  • Moses was “slow of speech,” yet God chose him to speak to Pharaoh.
  • Mary, the mother of Jesus, “pondered these things in her heart.”
  • And even Jesus Himself often withdrew to lonely places to pray, leading from a rhythm of engagement and retreat.

These examples remind us that the work of God is often quiet before it is visible. Depth precedes volume. Reflection gives rise to conviction. The contemplative heart is not opposed to the active one, it grounds it.

Introverted leaders bring invaluable gifts to the church: deep listening, discernment, empathy, and careful decision-making. They may not dominate a room, but they often notice what others miss. When they speak, it’s usually after thought and prayer, not impulse. Their leadership may be subtle, but it’s steady.

Recovering the Balance

If the church has become accidentally extroverted, we can also become intentionally balanced. We need both the energy of the extrovert and the depth of the introvert. The early church didn’t divide the two, it celebrated diversity of gifts within one body.

So what might it look like to reclaim that balance?

  • In meetings, give space for reflection. Not everyone processes aloud.
  • In worship, honour both celebration and contemplation.
  • In discipleship, make room for silence as much as speech.
  • And in leadership, recognize that influence isn’t measured by volume but by presence.

The Apostle Paul reminds us, “The body is not made up of one part but of many” (1 Corinthians 12:14). A healthy church values both the Marthas who serve and the Marys who sit in stillness. Both express devotion; both are needed.

The Next Revival Might Be Quieter

Perhaps the next great renewal in the church won’t come from a louder stage or a flashier program. Maybe it will come from a deeper silence, from leaders and followers who learn again to listen before they speak, to withdraw before they rush, and to rest before they perform.

The extroverted church wasn’t built on bad intentions, it was built on partial vision. Now it’s time to recover the whole picture. God speaks not only through the whirlwind and the fire, but also through the gentle whisper. And if we’ll quiet ourselves long enough, we might just hear Him again.

*I am by no means suggesting they are “introverts” as we understand them, simply that they displayed qualities that are most in line with introverted personality types.