All Churches Great and Small

Part two of my quest for a new church home and what I’ve learned from the journey. To read part one, go to Looking for a Church Home.

I grew up in a church where 150 people packed the pews. While the congregation had started much smaller, as had I, it had become a growing and vibrant community. Not without its flaws, it was committed to living out the life of faith as best as it knew how.

Over the years, I’ve attended – and led – a variety of churches in a variety of models. In some settings the church was out in the open, engaging the surrounding community at all levels. In others, we operated in the shadows, closeted out of necessity, but still serving the community in impressive ways. And then there were the Covid years when people who weren’t used to being creative discovered how meaningful and healthy forced creativity can be. Or they didn’t, and missed out on a God-given opportunity.

I’ve been at a crossroads in recent months. Where does God want me planted next? I had been part of a great congregation for the past 14 years. And then came a move to a new city.

This new town has a lot of church options. I picked a dozen within reasonable distance from my home to check out, looking at their online presence first – if they had one – and then visiting them in person.

Besides the geographical proximity, most of my initial dozen fit some theological and missional at-homeness. In a couple of cases, they were less of a fit than a willingness to stretch myself. After visiting all on my list, I narrowed the hunt to a couple I thought merited a second look.

Over my lifetime, I’ve worshipped with a handful sitting around in a circle singing a capella offkey. I’ve gathered with throngs that numbered in the thousands. Whatever the size, I’ve discovered that the Spirit can be very much “there” in any setting where God’s presence is welcomed. Big churches have a lot of plugin options; small churches provide an intimacy of relationships. Both can be very energizing.

I’ve helped start (the contemporary word is “plant”) churches and, unfortunately, I’ve even helped close a couple. Others I’ve joined midstream. I’ve seen churches grow and I’ve seen them stagnate. I’ve seen them multiply and, ever so sadly, I’ve seen them fly off in a dozen angry directions. Churches, after all, are communities with the collective wisdom and tomfoolery of the people who comprise them.

There definitely is a difference between leading and simply belonging to a church. Starting out in either role can be intimidating. If you come as a leader, there’s likely been some vetting going on. They’ve learned a bit about you. You’ve learned a bit about them. Still a stretch, there is at least a reason for you showing up.

Similarly, if you already have connections with a church – there are people to smooth your way, build bridges for you. But when you just show up sight unseen, nobody has the slightest notion why you are there and who you are. If you are used to being known somewhere else, it is unnerving to be an unknown.

Photo: Ordination of my son-in-law, the Reverend Michael Gonzalez, April 22, 2024. My daughter, Reverend Hope Gonzalez, on the left. Also pictured are Presbyter Terry Abbot and his wife Janelle, and Presbyter Karen Keyser Hillyer. Photo courtesy Oregon Ministry Network.

I get why people struggle to try out a new place. Will I fit in? Will they accept me as I am? Do I need to hide part of me until they get to know me better? And will they ever accept that odd part or two of me that only my mother could love? You can hide to blend in, but the chameleon act gets old and doesn’t work very well, because eventually the real you has to come out.

Especially in today’s polarizing environment, joining a new community is extremely tricky. There are all kinds of red (and blue) flags, triggers and ickies, landmines and booby traps. And if you are old and set in your ways like me, well, good luck shedding some of that old skin just to protect your hide.

But at my stage in life, I know being a part of a church is worth any and all hurdles. There really is no other way to live than to be embedded in a community of faith – and preferably in person.

Two keys to getting started, I’ve been reminding myself:

Church size presents both opportunities and challenges. Big churches can be freakishly anonymous if you let them. Slip in and slip out and stay aloof. Resist that urge to remain in the shadows. Instead, find your way into some fragment of the whole cloth. The church we’ve found in our new town is not huge, but it is large enough for multiple services. We’ve picked one service to attend consistently and have chosen a corner of the auditorium where we are more likely to bump into the same people week after week.

Small churches can be too familiar, no place to hide. Or they can be hard to break into, their insularity honed through years of practice. At their best, you get to know everyone, an amazing place of lifegiving closeness. At their worst, you feel anonymous and at the same time, up close and “impersonal.” But again, the key is giving it time and taking it one step, or one person, at a time.

I’ve made a habit over the years of keeping a memo on my phone where I add people’s names as soon as I’ve met them with some note that will help me remember them. Every time I get to church I check to see who I might bump into so I can use their name when I see them. My list for this new place is still small, but it keeps growing, and I no longer need reference it for those I’ve connected with over and over.

If the church is small – say, 100 people or less – I’d hope the pastor and everyone else would know your name eventually. As you theirs. That’s one big reason for a smaller church.

The problem with big churches is that, over time, you get the feeling you are on a close friend basis with the pastors after hearing them speak so often and share from their own lives. It’s easy to forget they might not remember your name, if they ever learned it. That’s okay. In a church with a thousand people, you are not likely to be the pastor’s best friend. And, if you were, you wouldn’t get into heaven any faster.

Some people think it is up to the new church to fit me in. It IS the church’s task to reach out to newcomers. But for those of us who are not novices to the life of corporate faith, we shouldn’t need training wheels. So, I remind myself to make a plan and get connected.

Connections really do matter. In my hunt in recent months, I’ve been to places both large and small where I walked out without having connected with anyone. If a person visits a building and no one sees them, were they even there?

We could argue that all that matters is that God sees you and that you have met with God. Obviously, we can meet with God without ever going to church or gathering with other believers. However, if we go it alone, thinking just Jesus and me is all that matters, we’re missing out on so much of what it means to know God. Because it is not just Jesus and me. Church is about the people of God connecting as the people with God, a space where God says profound things to the people as we.

It is not just Jesus and me. Church is about the people of God connecting as the people with God, a space where God says profound things to the people as we.

When God’s people get together, something very special happens. Thus, the writer of the book of Hebrews encourages us to not forsake gathering together. We were made to meet with God in community.

No two people are alike in how they connect. Some are introverted enough that it takes a thoughtful approach to reach out or to be approached. Others are so outgoing they fill a room – though their outgoingness is not an indication of how transparent they are. Me? Comfortable as I am speaking to hundreds, I prefer getting to meet people one person or family at a time.

Where am I on my hunt for a new church home? The selection narrowed over time, and I went back to a couple of places that had checked off some of my boxes – or that had avoided some of my pet peeves.

I think I’ve finally settled. It’s as much about calling as anything. Whether the church checks all my boxes or not, it is about where the Spirit is calling me to be planted so I and others can grow. Not about my convenience, not about my comfort, though this place is starting to feel at home already. Now to dig in.

If you are also looking and you are in my neck of the woods, Salem, Oregon, I can certainly recommend where I am settling as well as some of the “runners up” (not the peevish ones). Message me at https://howardkenyon.com/contact/.