Two-Minute French Fries

Excellence in ministry

(revised from post originally written May 2015)

This post is really about creating a quality church experience, but the getting there is half the fun. Hang with me!

One year we took our kids out to Freddy’s to celebrate a great school year. With 5 kids ranging from 15 to 5 months, going out to eat was less family dinner and more live-action sitcom. That trip was no exception. Here’s what all went down:

1. 20 minutes in line to get food ordered. (Who’s saving their ice-cream-substituted-for-medium-drink until after you eat?)
2. Spilled root beer over the seat. No, it wasn’t the kids this time. Aren’t we glad that didn’t go all over the baby’s head?
3. Oops. Knocked over a ketchup getting the baby out of the way of the root beer. Uh-oh! In the chaos, the 8-year old just grabbed a handful of fries out of Dad’s basket. Now there’s ketchup all down her arm. Where’s the napkin? Get the baby’s hands out of the plate of food…
4. Here comes the manager, smiling, pushing a mop bucket. “Hey, let me clean that up for you. I’ve got kids and that always happens to us.” (Did I mention it actually wasn’t the kids this time?)
5. Whew. Let’s eat…Hey, stop feeding fries to the baby!
6. A quick conversation about onion rings. Manager says they’re really good. I like onion rings. I’ll have to try them next time.
7. Manager returns with fry cook in tow carrying a basket of onion rings. “Here, try the onion rings! On the house! He just cooked them and wanted to bring them out to you himself.”
   Me: “Wow! That’s great! They look good. Thanks for doing that.” 
8. Ice cream time for the kids. Oops again. Something got left off the receipt. Up to counter to talk to teenage staffer. Confusion over what we were supposed to have. The kid is trying her best, but things are a bit hectic.
9. Manager walks over, waving ticket. Let’s see what you guys want. We’re going to take care of it. Who wants ice cream?
10. Only the girls ordered some. Son #2 now wants one but we didn’t order it. Manager tells him to pick whatever he wants—it’s on the house.
11. Manager comes back with all three ice cream orders. “Sure, I’ll get you an extra cup and spoon!” Still smiling.
12. Nearby a newly-delivered strawberry malt hits the floor right as daughter #1 walks by the table. “I’m sorry!” Feeling bad for perplexed look on man’s face. Owner of said strawberry malt? “Did you knock that off?”“I don’t know! I said I was sorry!”
13. Now what? Should I tell him we did it? Should I buy him another malt just in case?
    Wait. Here comes the manager again, still smiling, pushing the mop bucket…again. “What’s with this corner over here tonight?” I’m glad he’s joking. New malt brought to the table.
14. Chase down the manager under the guise of my wife’s request to get more ketchup. Offer to pay for the neighbor’s lost strawberry malt. Manager won’t hear of it. I insist. Doesn’t happen.

At the restaurant that night, every step of the way, the manager turned chaos into hospitality, cheerfully helping and giving things away. I asked him to explain to my kids. He said that at Freddy’s, the standard is excellence. Guests—not “customers”—are always cared for, no matter what.

Even the french fries are done that way, he said. French fries stay under the heat lamp for 2 minutes and then get thrown out. If the fries are more than 2 minutes old, we’ll drop new ones and bring them fresh and hot out to your table.

Always fresh, always hot. 2 minutes. The staff at Freddy’s can happily give away ice cream and onion rings, clean up messes, and replace spilled milkshakes because 2 minutes mattered to their idea of excellence. 

The commitment to high quality and excellence in their restaurant went down to that level of detail. Their philosophy in the little things played out in their performance in the big things.

This is how organizations—and churches—create cultures of quality. Excellence isn’t a flashy program or a one-time act of generosity. It’s baked into the hidden routines, the small non-obvious decisions, the willingness to “throw out the fries” for the sake of a better  experience for those we are serving.

For ministry, that means excellence isn’t only about Sunday’s sermon or the big splashy events. It begins with the little things, the ordinary mundane activities: 

• how clean the spaces (and bathrooms) are
• rehearsing song transitions so worship is smooth and inviting
• anticipating mobility needs of older folks during communion
• nursery care that makes parents feel safe and secure
• returning phone calls promptly
• nice tablecloths and decor at community meals
• training greeters to notice the newcomer
• following up on prayer requests
• preparing the bulletin without typos
• quick phone call to check on a missing group member. 

Those “two-minute” type choices create a culture where people feel cared for—and that culture reflects the excellence of the God we serve.

So here’s the question: what are your two-minute fries? What hidden routines or small decisions could you commit to that would ripple out into excellence in your church or ministry?

Because excellent doesn’t just happen. It’s formed—two minutes at a time.