I pastor a small church. I love small church life. I love the familiarity, the closeness, and the pace of life in small churches. We’re in a small town/rural community. We’re striving to repent of our self-righteousness. We’re trying to make sure our worship and our church life is accessible to new people. Our leaders want to be better shepherds. We’re trying to move from friendly to friends with hospitality and intentional relationships.

So, I’ve realized that I’m not really writing about small or large churches … I’m basically just writing about what I think makes for a healthy church. The “big vs. small” is probably just a gimmick to get you to read. But I’ll keep the format up for this companion piece to my previous post about churches being too big. I’ve been a member, and am now pastor of, a small church for almost two decades. My parents got saved in a large-ish evangelical Presbyterian church. So my perception of large and small might be off. When our service gets above 75 in attendance, I begin to think “boy, we’re a large church, aren’t we?” I suppose the commonly quoted stat is that the average church is about 100 in the US. So, over 250 I guess would be considered large to me. Under 125, to me, is small.

This post is about churches that are so small. I want to be clear: small doesn’t equal unhealthy, bad, un-evangelical, or unwelcoming. Small doesn’t equal bad. But small doesn’t equal good either; there’s no reason for small church pride. There are reasons that church may be small and healthy. Your church may be in a community with low population, or lots of churches per capita. Your church might be preaching the Word in a community that doesn’t want to hear it. Your church might be small because it’s been recently planted. There are lots of good reasons your church may be small. Here are five reasons that your church might be so small.

1. Friendly vs. Friends

There’s a difference between friendly and friends. Lots of small churches are really warm to visitors – sometimes because they are desperate just to see new faces! But in some communities, like mine, friend and family groups cohere over generations, and there’s little room in people’s lives for new friends. A person might show up in worship because they are finally at a point that they know they need Christ and Christian community. But if people come through your doors and don’t stick around, it might be because, even though you’re friendly, no one in your church is interested in becoming friends with anyone new. If you and people in your church aren’t willing to welcome other people into your lives, that might explain why your church is so small.

2. Resources vs. People

I live in a community where many churches, especially mainline churches, have closed, are closing, or on a long slow decline. Thomas Rainer’s Autopsy of Dead Church is eerily accurate as I learn about these church bodies. When the church is so focused on maintenance: maintaining the building, maintaining the old ways, maintaining every one’s role and position. When a church is focused on maintaining itself, and not the gospel and the glory of God, then new people aren’t really people; they are resources for maintenance. Get people in the door: get hands, get feet, get ideas, get money, get resources. Many churches in our community have cut pastors from full to part-time to maintain buildings. Some of these beautiful buildings are left standing in the wake of the church closing; monuments to dead people with dead faith. And here’s the thing: new people know when they see you lick your lips like hungry wolves that they are just a resource. Your church might be so small because you don’t treat people like people; you treat them like the help.

3. Your Frame is Only So Big

I’m sure this isn’t a new idea, but I don’t remember from whom I got it. In essence, the “frame” problem goes like this: just like your skeleton was designed to support a certain amount of muscle, fat, and skin, so your church’s skeleton is only designed to support a certain size community. Sure you can be underweight or overweight, but you were only designed to be within a certain range. Unlike the skeleton under your skin, you can change the shape and design of your church’s skeleton. A commenter on Facebook reminded me of this when it comes to leadership. If your pastor is the only one discipling, teaching, caring for, visiting, and helping the congregation, he can only care for so many people. I’ve heard psychologists say that most people can only manage a network of 100 or so relationships; you’ve have to assume that not all your pastor’s relationships are going to be in the church. A bigger church needs bigger shoulders: elders, deacons, and godly women need to step up and help shepherd and care for people in the congregation. The way you do business, how things get into the bulletin, who gets emailed about the schedule, who gets asked for help, who calls on visitors – if everything is designed for the people who just know who to talk to but is not designed for ease of use and connection – then that might explain why your church is so small.

4. A Self-Righteous Streak

I come from a tradition of faith and practice where the sin of pride and self-righteousness in our theology and practice is a particular temptation. The Reformed faith is such a minority in evangelicalism that when people come into our system of doctrine, they are tempted to have an almost gnostic “look how smart I am that I figured this out” mentality. But it’s not just the Reformed tradition that struggles with this. Self-righteousness which manifests in exclusivity, a “we’re right and everyone else is wrong” mentality, is unattractive to those seeking the gospel. That said, it’s not wrong to celebrate what distinguishes your faith from others. It’s not wrong to have firm convictions about the practice of your faith. But can you do it without talking down or getting angry at everyone else? If your sermon applications are focused on what’s wrong with the world outside, if what draws your people together is how great you are and how bad everyone else is, and you derisively joke about everyone else’s politics, practice, or doctrine, it might explain why you’re so small.

Concluding Thoughts

I pastor a small church. I love small church life. I love the familiarity, the closeness, and the pace of life in small churches. We’re in a small town/rural community. We’re striving to repent of our self-righteousness. We’re trying to make sure our worship and our church life is accessible to new people. Our leaders want to be better shepherds. We’re trying to move from friendly to friends with hospitality and intentional relationships. But we might stay a small church and we might grow. I suppose the point I really should be making is that, large or small, your church needs to worship the Lord, care for the flock, and strive to serve Jesus well.

Allan Edwards is a minister in the Presbyterian Church in America and serves as pastor of Kiski Valley PCA in Leechburg, PA. This article appeared in Allan’s blog and is used with permission.

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