There is a popular book among church leaders, Ready, Steady, Grow. Perhaps the most insightful part of the book is the beginning section where the writer, Ray Evans, assesses the strengths and weaknesses of different sized congregation. His diagnosis is disturbingly accurate.
Medium-sized churches consist of between 50-150 people. In many ways, this is a blissful state of being. In a group of this size, people know each other’s names; new people are recognised and warmly greeted; Sunday services are sufficiently large to feel like an event but intimate enough to not feel lost; the head pastor is accessible and can function like a personal chaplain to everyone; and people who care can be up-to-speed with most of the news (gossip?) in the church.
In case anyone has trouble connecting dots, HEC matches this description point-on-point.
Now, “medium-sized” churches, when vibrant, suffer from what I call the “puppy” problem. Everyone loves puppies; they attract a lot of attention. But the problem with a puppy is that its growth cannot be stunted. The adorable, little Rottweiler will steady inflate into something that looks less like a stuffed-bear than a real one.
Something similar is true of healthy churches of 100+ people. Their warmth, welcome, and care is magnetic. But this means that such churches cannot stay the same size forever. Inevitably, like a puppy, they will grow, and as they do, some of their most likeable traits will disappear.
Evans describes this next phase of church life as the discomfort of being an “awkward-sized” church. Such congregations are too big for everyone to know each other’s names; they begin to feel a bit more like a crowd than a family gathering; new visitors often feel detached from the “centre” of the fellowship; the pastor feels less accessible; and very few people can know most of what is going on in the church.
In case anyone has trouble connecting dots, HEC is beginning to experience the birth pangs of no longer being a medium-sized church.
This leads to an important question: what does it look like to be a faithful member of an “awkward-sized” church? This is something for each one of us to reflect on. The truth is that each one of us contributes something important to the culture and shared life of the congregation. If we want to stay strong and united as we grow, this is not something the session can cement by itself. Instead, we all need to take responsibility for the small, but significant role we have in making sure that HEC feels more like a loving body than a lonely crowd.
1 – Never Lose Your Enthusiasm for Church Growth
Christians in stagnant churches love to daydream about new people coming in; however, it’s not unusual for these same people to begin to complain once new people, with new problems, begin to disrupt the status quo. We like the thought of a balcony filled with young faces; we just don’t like the noise of young feet pounding in the church hall.
Now, let’s be honest and admit two things. One is that there is something enjoyable about a church being a closed circle. It’s comfortable to look around on Sunday and only see faces that you would happily invite to Christmas dinner. That said, let’s also admit that Jesus never permits us to live in a comfort-zone. His call is to go to the highways and byways in order that the festal halls of the church may be filled with the most unexpected of people. Nothing in the gospels indicates that Jesus wants spare seats in his churches. Jesus loves a table filled, and He summons us to make space for the children, tax collectors, and sinners who will inevitably bring more disruption than noise into our shared life.
What does this mean for us? If Jesus rejoices in a full church, let’s maintain the same spirit. Like groomsmen, let’s celebrate all of the things that put a smile on the groom’s face.
2 – Help People Find the “Centre”
There is a centre circle at HEC. This “centre” is not defined by length of tenure or theological IQ. It’s a community thing. People at the “centre” are those who participate in the core practices of our church family. In other words, that are not just present on Sunday mornings, they are members of a home group, and they attend (as able) the prayer meeting. For us, these practices are the equivalent of a family sitting around a table for a meal: they reaffirm and strengthen the bonds of peace. At the point a person is present at these midweek meetings, she is no longer a detached spectator of our church life. She is now on the field with us, toiling in intercessory prayer and shouldering the burdens of other members.
Now, the problem is that new people can feel that there is a “centre” in our congregation, but they are uncertain how to move toward it. This is why it often feels to visitors as if there is an “old” Holyrood and a “new” Holyrood. They can tell that there is a deeper way of being involved in the life of the church; they just aren’t sure what this “life” consists of or how to become a partner in it.
This is where older members can be of help. The best way to draw people into the core practices of Holyrood is not to mention the prayer meeting in the intimations or to hand out welcome cards for home groups. The very best way is personal invitations. We need older members to guide repeat visitors to the middle of our common life.
3 – Look for Opportunities to Give Up a Seat
There is only one profanity that I’ve heard in church. In fact, I’ve heard it repeatedly throughout my time as a pastor. I’ve listened to it whispered in the pews of Highland churches; I’ve watched it silently spoken with gestures in big, American congregations. The blasphemy is this: “You’re sitting in my seat!”
We forget how awkward it is to show up as the new kid among an old group of friends. Imagine stepping on a bus in which all of the passengers were from the same village except you. Sheepishly, you look for an obscure seat – not too far back or too close to the driver. Finding one, you look down at your phone to avoid being conspicuous. Then, someone walks up, gets your attention, and says, “Could you move; you’re sitting in my seat!”
How would you feel? Embarrassed? Upset? Alone?
Let’s resolve to never forget how much courage people show in choosing to visit a new church. But let’s do more: whenever possible, let’s give up a seat to make a visitor feel at home among us. After all, we come to church to worship the king who gave up his seat of righteousness so that sinners could find a home in heaven.
