The church that nurtured me through childhood and youth had much to offer: loving teachers who took their faith seriously, pastors who genuinely cared for their flock and compassionate members who supported one another in times of need.

However, the large Independent Baptist Church from in town could certainly catch the attention of a youngster. On occasion, one of the church’s many buses would make a Saturday visit in hopes of filling the seats the next morning.

Incentives varied from all kinds of gifts to offers of cash for getting yourself and all your siblings dressed and aboard the bus the following morning. The church proudly boasted of having “America’s second largest Sunday School,” but seemed determined to become number one at some point.

The best prize I recall them offering for bringing the most people to church was a real, live pony. After a Saturday afternoon of watching “Fury,” “My Friend Flicka” and “Sky King,” I was tempted to lasso enough peers to make that dream a reality.

My one visit to the church — to get an autograph from New York Yankee second baseman Bobby Richardson — was OK, but it didn’t feel like home. I decided — as if my parents had given me a choice — to keep on with my imaginary cowboy life and familiar home church.

From that time on, however, I have wrestled with the question: “How do we sell the church?” Or perhaps the better question is: “How should we sell the church?”

Those questions lead back to fascinating reflections about how Jesus was perceived by those he encountered in his earthly ministry. Remarkable accounts are given of those who tossed aside fishing nets and other securities to become disciples. There must have been something appealing about Jesus.

Yet the biblical account also shows the unattractiveness of Jesus’ call. No modern public relations firm would suggest building a movement on the promotional ideas of self-denial and cross bearing.

At times I have consulted with churches on how to better promote a new building or the congregation’s overall ministry. More effective and consistent communication is often the key. Sometimes an outsider can see the communication shortcomings clearer than insiders.

Churches send messages — often, unintended ones — though signage, printed materials or slogans. Also, congregational leaders can benefit from better use of media outlets to reach prospects with the church’s message of inclusion and hope.

These are all good and helpful approaches that can enhance a church’s ministry. Yet I cannot help but tread carefully here. The fear is cheapening the Gospel message or distorting the demands Jesus expressed for true discipleship.

Recently I have observed a preacher on television who is cool. In my younger years, I would have been attracted to him. He dresses in jeans and a T-shirt and speaks in hip terms.

However, I have never heard him say anything remotely insightful, much less profound. My hope is that he attracts some people — with his “coolness” — who will connect with Christ and then discover ways to grow in faith.

Admittedly, some of this is generational. For too long many persons have seen the church as boring and out of touch. It does not have to be such in order to be faithful to the Gospel message.

On the other hand, any church that seems overly eager to scratch every new cultural itch is unlikely to provide a stable ministry in which people can worship, learn and minister for the long term.

A report in USA TODAY last year told of a church in Charlotte, N.C., that gave out thousands of water bottles and Frisbees emblazoned with contact information about their ministries. Ten percent of those now attending reportedly learned about the church from the flying discs.

Surely creativity has an important place in taking the church’s message to those outside of the familiar and comfortable walls where so many of us feel at home. Making the church attractive to those who need the Gospel message is vitally important — but the danger comes when we mask the vital message in order to make the church attractive.