Category: Ministry & Church Health

When church planting is not part of the ongoing evangelism, missions, and leader training culture of an existing church, the prospect of planting a new church gives rise to various criticisms and concerns, not least of which includes a suspicion of the planters’ motives.

Without the outward-oriented compass provided by consistent church planting, a congregation tends toward seeing itself as existing merely for itself. This tendency manifests itself long before the rebellious upstarts threaten (sorry…propose) to plant a new church. Fundraisers tout the benefit of new buildings dedicated to “community use,” but actual practice regulates and restricts non-members right out of them; Sunday school class members stop attending, but no one shows concern because they obviously don’t want to be there; and even ostensibly outward-oriented projects and ministries morph into self-congratulatory bulletin board opportunities.

Not all churches suffer these symptoms, of course, but they are likely the exception to the rule.

One problem associated with the non-planting, inward-focused, leader-thin congregation is that the idea of members leaving to plant a new church is seen as nothing short of ecclesiological treason. Especially when potential planters are considered “prime” members, their leaving to start a new church (read “competition”) is viewed as a betrayal of loyalty. Rather than being seen as an expansion of kingdom work, the new plant is seen as a drain on leadership, resources (i.e., budget support), and spiritual creativity.

Ironically, one factor frequently contributing to the desire of planters to venture out from their parent church is that they are compelled to lead — with evidence that they are equipped for it — and established churches seldom have opportunity for young(ish), plant-minded leaders to actually lead. While the parent church laments the loss of leadership, nothing is done to provide opportunity for it. In reality, established churches tend to become risk-averse and comfort-seeking, and the type of leadership typical to church planters and their teams frequently decries comfort and welcomes risk (in kingdom terms).

As a consequence, the potential church-plant team is not infrequently asked questions such as “Why do you want to do this to us?”

Furthermore, soliciting support of any kind — whether in terms of additional people to form the core group, or funds to purchase necessaries, or even visible, tangible moral support of parent church leadership — is seen as “stealing” from the parent church those things that are already in short supply and cannot well be parted with.

It is difficult in such an environment to detect a vibrant understanding of and commitment to kingdom expansion, but all too easy to sense spiritual protectionism. One forms the mental picture of the country club that vigorously objects to the opening of a new golf course across town on the grounds that it will deplete the pool of those willing to pay exorbitant greens fees.

Yet if country clubs were evangelistic kingdom-advancers (to keep the metaphor), they would not only provide opportunities for its members to play golf, but they would also train them to start new country clubs all around town, send them out with a few carts and spare clubs, and help them with grass problems from time to time.

Rather than constituting a betrayal of parent-church loyalty, plants can be the natural result of healthy church maturation, leadership development, and kingdom orientation. Rather than a betrayal, planting is a demonstration of loyalty to expansion of the kingdom, of stewardship of the resources provided Christ’s church by his Spirit.

One of the first responses that our core group got to the idea that we were called to plant a new church was “we already have enough churches.”

In small town deep South, this initial perspective is understandable, though mistaken. It is understandable because in a town such as ours, you can, almost literally, see a church on every corner. The list of churches in the phone book (does anybody use those any longer?) is extensive. Local radio and television are filled with announcements from churches — of every sort and stripe — giving details of revivals, conferences, reunions, fundraisers and concerts — of every sort and stripe.

Yet a good portion of the town’s occupants don’t claim any church membership at all. Furthermore, on any given Sunday even more are not in worship services in any church. In areas that are not as gospel-saturated and not as culturally religious as ours, the proportion of “unchurched” is sure to be higher. It is to those non-affiliated, non-attending people that plants are especially suited to minister.

A corollary — or necessary implication — of the “we have enough churches” sentiment is that if there are still people who are not saved and not attending church services (as if such were a novel idea), then they obviously don’t want to be saved and don’t want to attend church services. To this, we need only refer to the words of Jesus, who said that those who are lost, until they are saved, run from the light because they don’t want their deeds exposed. Yet you don’t avoid turning on the kitchen light because the roaches scatter when you do. (Hey, I was once a “roach” myself…still a wretch, but formerly roach-y).

To this objection, we proposed, and propose, the following:

1.  Existing churches are homogeneous. That is, in areas with a history of religious influence, churches all tend to look the same. There might be broad categories of difference, such as the lamentable black/white segregation that still exists on Sunday morning, but within those there is much similarity.

2.  New churches are more flexible. Not in the sense of being free from the restraints of biblical doctrine and the ecclesiology that naturally flows from its teaching, but in the sense that there are no pre-existing constraints on how biblical doctrine and practice are lived out. There are no brass name plates on the pews and stained glass windows, there is no committee whose age predates the dinosaurs, there is no “way” that “we’ve always done it.” And change can be made quickly, as ministry need demands.

3.  Existing churches squelch leadership. What I mean is this: part of the process of making disciples will naturally lead to producing spiritual leaders. If a congregation is not raising up and maturing spiritual leaders, then its discipleship is off-kilter. But a church that is raising leaders must do something with them, i.e., let them lead. Part of the process of making disciples, then, is raising up leaders, some of which will take responsibility in the congregation that trained them, some of which will have no sheep to lead but those in a new (or different) congregation. Planting churches is a natural outflow of an existing church raising up new spiritual leaders.

4. No matter how “friendly”, existing churches intimidate some people. A simple sociological fact is that people tend to congregate with other like people. Those who are unlike them are perpetually outsiders. New churches can’t afford to be clique-ish. Also, some people disdain stained glass, ornate pews, and multi-tier organs…things that small, new, self-supporting congregations typically have little of.

Existing churches obviously serve an important function in the body of Christ. Unhealthy ones should receive intensive care. Yet even healthy, existing churches can’t do all the things that new churches can, are are in part healthy because they plant new churches.

Recently, in discussing a lesson on 1 Corinthians chapter 6 with a group of believers, I asked whether anyone had every sued anyone else in court. I was met with blank stares and head-shaking. I asked whether anyone had been sued. Blank stares and head-shaking. Then I asked whether anyone knew anyone who claimed the name of Christ and who had sued or been sued. Even blanker stares and shakier head-shaking.

We discussed Paul’s admonition that believers should not take their cases before pagan courts and judges, and that God equips congregations with people who are fully capable to decide disputes, citing the example of Moses and Paul’s suggestions that believers will judge both the world and angels.

At this point, my group agreed in principle, but was largely at a loss for concrete examples, from their own experience, of believer suing believer.

Then I explained that divorce is a lawsuit.

There was neither blank stares nor head-shaking. Glazed eyes, perhaps.

When confronted with the truth that believers’ disputes should be settled within the congregation, most of us can grasp the application of that truth to one believer’s claim that another believer used bad concrete to pave his driveway.

But our proverbial head explodes when attempting to apply biblical truth to the settling of divorce disputes, and we suppose that such matters should be left to “experts”. It is true that divorce poses thorny and difficult legal questions, the implications of which must meet with standards set by the state. If a congregation were to decide the issues involved in divorce, the resolution should be reviewed by an attorney and submitted to him for appropriate court filings.

Yet why should the congregation — the believers involved in divorce — immediately vault over the wisdom of the church in favor of the “pagan” court? Biblical marriage is an inherently spiritual issue, and the severing of it — whether on biblical grounds or without them — involves serious spiritual issues. Civil courts care nothing about those spiritual issues.

Congregations should certainly be involved in such discipleship that allows it to detect coming marital problems and head them off before it ends in divorce. But if that effort fails, and divorce is inevitable, who better than the church to preside over the issue and demonstrate the grace and peace of God as much as possible in that situation?

Every congregation of Christ-followers whould be willing to address martial problems before they end in divorce. But they should also be prepared to handle the divorce itself, and not to rely upon pagan courts to resolve spiritual disputes.

Is the worship of God for Christians a family reunion?

It depends. There are some differences: not all of the family is here, at least not literally; worship here is weekly; and worship here is fraught with the challenges of sanctified people who are yet still sinners attempting to give proper praise to a holy God.

None of those things will be true in heaven, the eternal state: all of those resurrected in Christ will be present, it will be constant, and it will be perfect.

Even so, in many ways and in the truest sense Christian worship is a reunion, of sorts, though it is more appropriately characterized as “pre-union.” With reunions, the family time together has passed, and its members reconvene to remember what once was. With “pre-unions,” members of a body who never previously lived together convene in anticipation of a future time when all members will be permanently united.

Typically, earthly family reunions are scheduled together with the birthday celebration of the patriarch. Frequently that elderly relative is, well, elderly, and may be confined to the indoors or to a particular seat while the younger, more mobile and less arthritic members of the clan supervise the toddlers, tell spouses childhood war stories and secrets, and generally ignore the matriarch.

The patriarch, then, was a convenient excuse for all the others to socialize and enjoy the really interesting stuff.

If we are not very careful, our weekly episodes of Christian worship will resemble this family reunion, in which we gather ostensibly to celebrate the Patriarch, but find that our lateral, horizontal relationships and conversations are much more interesting than paying much attention to the old guy in the corner, who we think smells of moth balls, tells the same stories over and over, and is hard of hearing.