Is Growth Overrated?

Our culture is obsessed with “big.” In so many ways it seems, “size does matter.” Often the crudest anecdotes adapted by any culture “expose” the values of that culture. Accompanying our obsession with “big,” can be an unhealthy obsession with growth. The human growth hormone (HGH) and the performance-enhancing drug scandals in the modern world of sports are highly symbolic of this. This obsession with “big” and “growth” has plagued the church. At church leadership conferences, megachurches are highlighted as the model to strive for. In many of these circles, the first question a pastor gets asked is, “How many attend your church?” The answer to that question, depending on who else is in the room, determines that pastor’s place in the assumed but unspoken pecking order of ecclesial significance.

Study after study shows that the universal church is indeed growing rapidly. This is not surprising. What is surprising is that the reason for the growth is not because of megachurches, but because of thousands, and perhaps millions of small churches around the world! Christian Swartz wrote, “The stats tell us that ten smaller churches of 100 people will accomplish way more than one church of 1000.” [1]  Specifically, this means that far more people are reached with the Good News and become followers of Jesus through small churches. The explosion of the church in China and many other nations are due to small house churches proliferating.  In observing this, Karl Vater writes that “there are few better ways to invest in the advancement and promotion of the kingdom… than by multiplying, encouraging, and equipping healthy local small churches.”[2]

LIFE ON THE EDGE AND LIMINALITY

Why are small churches generally more effective?  One reason is the “liminality factor.”[3] “Liminality” has to do with being in the arena of risk, vulnerability, and disorientation. The term literally is a description of the passage of life for youth in tribal cultures, where they are taken into extreme conditions and taught to survive, feeling left to fend for themselves. This process prepares them to emerge into adulthood. Liminality is not the place we would naturally choose to be, but God often takes us there. In liminality, our very survival seems at stake and we feel desperate. It is a place of utter dependency while requiring us to give everything we have. Liminality is often where small congregations find themselves. When congregations are in this place, it involves more “buy-in” at a grass roots level. I am intrigued by the high ratio of people who attend VEV who are meaningfully involved and engaged. It is a ratio that far exceeds the North American average, where 80 percent of the work is done by 20 percent of the people (often called the 80/20 ratio). At VEV, it’s more like 80/80.  

In megachurches, commitment can be minimal. This is because people can slip in and out anonymously. They can depend on a multiple paid staff to meet the functioning needs of the church. Research bears this out. An online article sent to me by Rick Hiebert cites a Duke University Study that indicates that megachurches have less involved members per capita than small churches.[4] Of course, there are deeply committed disciples in both big and small churches. God can use a megachurch to get the attention of a city or culture and they can often be a wonderful resource to many smaller churches around them. Yet, overall, this seems to be the exception more than the rule.  

CROWD OR COMMUNITY?

It’s hard to be anonymous in a smaller church. Mind you, the Christian faith was never designed for anonymity. I think the greatest metaphor for the church is “family” which means a place where you are known and loved. By “family,” we do not merely mean the traditional “nuclear family” but rather a larger extended family – a family of multiple generations including cousins, uncles, aunties, grandparents as well as parents, brothers, and sisters. God is still “the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob!”

Crowds come and go. I’ve lived long enough to know that the right kind of technology and marketing can draw a big crowd, but, Jesus never seemed that impressed with crowds. He often deliberately tried to reduce their size by saying some really hard things.[5] It was because he wanted disciples, not fans. He wanted a family, not crowds. He knew crowds could boost someone’s ego but still leave them very lonely.  

METRICS FOR GROWTH...?

Having said all that, I have come back from sabbatical with a longing for growth, both in my own life and the life of our church family. In fact, to not want growth is not healthy. But, what do I mean by “growth?” I mean growth in the most holistic sense of the word. I mean growing like Jesus did – “in mind, body, love for God, and love for people” (see Luke 2:52).

How can we grow like that? How can we be more conversant with Scripture, with history, and with our current culture, so that we can better live the story we love to tell? How can we make sure that we’re taking good care of our bodies, including nutrition, exercise, and rest, so that we can offer them as a daily living sacrifice to God (Romans 12:1)? How can we grow in relational and emotional health and in our capacity to love God and neighbour? How can we learn to be more comfortable in our own skin and to live out of our true selves in Christ - not out of false religious selves? How can we mature in our capacity to be lovingly patient with each other, to work out our differences, to disagree respectfully, and communicate lovingly? How can we grow in our capacity to celebrate children, the poor, the marginalized, and the invisible ones? How can we grow in our capacity to love and include those who are different than us? How could we extend welcome to the displaced and marginalized refugees fleeing to our city from war-torn nations?

As a community, how can we help each other grow? How can we hold one another in loving accountability, not for a “performance review,” but to help each other reach towards our God-given dreams? How can we help each other discover, develop, and deploy our spiritual gifts? How can we grow in our church/parent partnership to make disciples of our children? How can we be intergenerational and include our children and youth more in the story?  How can we be a blessing and love our neighbours by being a loving presence?  How could we develop a greater sense of "place," through initiatives like our "Let's Grow Together" community garden? How can we increase our radical welcome so that people join our community of faith, organically and naturally, adding to our beautiful mosaic?

How could we multiply so that there are dozens of more congregations like ours throughout greater Vancouver that are still relating to each other in mutual love and care? How could we develop leaders and teams for these congregations? How could we work with our other Vineyard congregations and church plants in the city to do so? How could we grow by entering into a deeper level of doing justice and loving mercy? What are our next steps in our journey of mutual healing with our First Nations friends in Lower Post?

So, you see, growth is important. However, let’s use questions like these for our measuring stick. Perhaps you can add some questions of your own! The Good News is that we're observing encouraging signs of this kind of growth – in our community and in our larger Vineyard family. 

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[1] Karl Vaters, “Your Small Church is Big,” Leadership Magazine, Spring 2015, page 58. In this article, the author quotes a study by Ed Stetzer and Christian Swartz. 

[2] Ibid.

[3] Alan Roxburgh discusses this concept in his book, The Sky is Falling: Leaders Lost in Transition.

[4] “Megachurches Have Less Involved Members than Small Churches, [Duke University] Study Finds.” (Huge thanks to Rick Hiebert for sending this to me.)

[5] See for example, John 6:61-71. 

Mad Max and Glad Gord

I determined to return from my sabbatical last September in a posture of listening and co-discernment with the congregation. This was easier said than done as I logged over 60 hours a week for the first two weeks back. However I was soon able to find new rhythms so that my schedule became more manageable. I strongly felt that I was to give our congregation a rest and enjoy just being together. While there was so much to share from the sabbatical, I wanted to first listen. I was challenged afresh by the story of Elijah, who was so weary that he begged God to die. After he was nurtured by angel food, he was sustained, not by the drama of wind, fire, and earthquake, but by the gentle whisper of God. I resolved that listening for this gentle whisper would be our sustenance as we walked into our future together.    

Again, it was sometimes difficult for me to stay in this posture of listening. I grieved times when I saw “holes” in our programs that affected people. It took a lot of effort for me to restrain from trying to fill them. How was I to listen well with these gaping holes staring at me? Could our church be viable? Would people get impatient and leave? These are fears that pastors can feel. Remarkably, our church family seemed at peace, surrendered to God’s mercy in prayerful trust. I saw with fresh appreciation the maturity in our community and a commitment to each other that transcended the strength of our programs. We were not consumers looking for the flavour of the month to meet our own needs. Rather, we were a covenantal community who were on a journey together "for better or worse." 

On my second Sunday back in September, it was time to preach for the first time in over five months. It had been so long, I was actually a bit nervous! I felt a bit rusty! My task was to conclude “The Good and Beautiful Life,” book series and segue into “The Good and Beautiful Community” book series. Once I started, all nervousness evaporated. I felt a surge of joy and freedom. It was exhilarating! I had forgotten how much I love to engage a congregation in the Scriptures through teaching and preaching. I was born to do this. Not just anywhere, but here. Not just to anyone, but to these people. These are my people. I was home. Hearts were soft, hungry, and eager to receive the living word of God. We asked the Holy Spirit to come, and he came, as he always does when we ask.  

Then, that night, our wonderful adult son, Christian arrived. He was doing a Calgary-to-Vancouver Island delivery (Campbell River), and he stopped for a two-day visit on his way back. We had a tender visit with him, just hanging out together in this neighbourhood - the same neighbourhood that he had grown up in. VEV was his family of faith and he still feels more at home in VEV than any other church.

The future belongs to the... WHO?

While he was with us, we went for swims and workouts at Hillcrest and Temp pools and ate the legendary ice cream from La Casa Gelato. On impulse, we decided one night to go the late showing of Mad Max Fury Road in 3D. It was crazy, I know, but it was outrageously fun - pure eye candy with lots of action and special effects. The good guys won and the bad guys lost. I drank way too much sprite and ate way too much popcorn, but it was worth it. Oh, and I got at least one insight from the movie when Max asked, “Is Hope Cruel?” It made for a great sermon topic a few weeks later, during which Mason, one of our young adults, applied his spiritual gifts and drew a cartoon caricature of me, called, “Glad Gord.” 

A caricature designed by Mason, inspired during
 my Sep 27 sermon on Mad Max 

While Christian was here, he visited old friends. When he returned at night, he asked us to pray with him, for them. Do I dare say that I saw a pastor emerging? Then, all too soon, it was time for him to leave. He planned on driving through the night in his 1 ton moving truck through mountain passes, arriving in Calgary the following morning.  With a lump in our throats, we prayed with him one more time, and fought back the tears as he pulled away from the curb. 

I can’t describe the joy of our visit. As I thought of him driving through the mountains, anxiously watching my phone for updates, I wept much as I thought of him alone in his truck. I felt such an indescribable longing for him to see all of his dreams come true. 

After 300 samples at La Casa Gelato, we choose...

As I reflected on the sweetness of our time together, I realized in retrospect that he was no longer just my son whom I loved deeply. He was now my friend too. What greater gift is there than that?

We have escaped like a bird

    from the fowler’s snare;
the snare has been broken,
    and we have escaped.

 Our help is in the name of the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth. 

(Psalm 125). 

Like A Lobster Looming Large

During the latter part of my sabbatical (August), I read The New Parish, a book that resonated deeply with me. The temptation for pastors returning from sabbatical is to either resign, or the opposite extreme, to hit the ground running with all kinds of ideas and dreams. Reading The New Parish provided me with an important counter-measure to this temptation. It was one of the most nurturing integrations of spirituality and ecclesiology (theology of the church) that I have ever read. The authors applied Benedictine, Franciscan, and Ignatian practices corporately for churches to cultivate a sense of place in their neighbourhoods by listening and discerning together so that they could respond appropriately in love and service. 

It was during my reading of The New Parish, that I came across the story of the lobster. A lobster never stops growing and it can live as old as 50 years! This means that a lobster frequently has to shed its protective shell and grow a new one. If it doesn’t, it will die. When it begins to outgrow its shell, it starts drinking large volumes of water until its shell separates from its body. Its eyes pop out and for a period of a few days, it is extremely vulnerable and defenseless – blind, weak, and unable to walk more than a few steps without falling over! Yet, remarkably, this is when it is the most fertile and the only time it can mate. Its external flesh contains the substance that forms its new shell which begins to grow after a few days.

I felt that the story of the lobster was a wonderful analogy of this present season for our church. The “shell” on the lobster represents systems, structures, and programs that have become our identity and security. We find comfort in them. They were good and right for a season, but God is preparing us for a season of new growth, and these old systems can now hinder that growth and even bring death! Therefore, we must be willing to shed them. In light of this, I came back with a strong conviction that we were to continue to the end of the calendar year in the “spirit of the sabbatical.” I desired to come back in a posture of listening. It was to be a season to slow down, to become vulnerable, and to be willing to let go of anything that God was asking of us. 

As I returned to work, the church seemed at peace with very few fires to tend to; again, such a wonderful credit to our leadership team and whole church community, for which I will be forever grateful. I also felt supreme gratitude for our extended Vineyard family and church connections that offered themselves to provide worship and teaching relief during my sabbatical months.

But, then the surprises began. My first official day back at work was a Tuesday, September 1. I eagerly anticipated my first staff meeting and catchup with our dear assistant pastor, Joanna. Almost immediately, she informed me that due to health issues, she was going to need to take a medical leave which would result in her resignation by mid-fall. Next, two other oversight team couples went on leave which also included the resignation of our primary kids leader. In addition, due to a move, we no longer had a pre-teens leader. Furthermore, our video personnel had all resigned along with our worship team point person. Please understand that all of these departures and leaves were completely legitimate, but the timing was unbelievable. I was returning to VEV and for the first time in all of my 20 years of pastoral ministry, I had no support staff and there were huge gaping holes in our leadership team and Sunday programs. I mean huge holes!  

Of course, all this news was hard, and I limped through my first few days back disoriented, confused, and uncertain about my future here, struggling with feelings of loneliness and abandonment. 

My first Sunday back on the job was Labour Day weekend. We had Brent and Bonnie Bylsma from the Kamloops Vineyard as guest worship leaders and teachers, so my load was relatively light that day. Yet, with the leave of three oversight team couples along with all the holes, I was feeling vulnerable. That soon melted when I arrived at church. There was just so much joy. Before I began to lead the service, Kirsten opened and “introduced me,” blessing me back into leading the church. There was a remarkable peace, and the sweetest presence of God that was tangible throughout the whole service and throughout that whole day. Indeed, this sense of peace has extended throughout the whole fall season. Of course there have been bad days, and I have grieved the season change for Joanna, but I have also had a sense of new joy. For the first time in 20 years, I have been free to be home and to be present without having to tend to responsibilities, regionally and nationally. God has been with us and his grace has more than compensated for the holes. This grace has come in the form of so many in our congregation, who in response to the Spirit’s call, are stepping up and filling some of these holes! We've had fresh troops added to provide strength and encouragement to those who are weary. The fact of the matter is that some holes will always be with us. Rather than trying to plug all the holes, we’re just “buckets full of holes” that are dipped in the infinite ocean of God’s mercy and grace. The holes actually provide an opportunity for his grace to shown.

Ok, what are the chances...? Our son-in-law, Markus was looking
at google maps on his mac and came across this... 

It was then that I remembered the lobster again. Ah, yes, the lobster. We were that lobster. We had lost our shell and maybe our eyes had popped out but it was not because we were shrinking. Rather, it was because we were growing. We were corporately vulnerable, and it sometimes felt uncomfortable, but it was giving room for growth - growth God’s way, not through imported techniques, nor methods, nor formulas. It was simply being who we are, no more and no less, vulnerable, waiting, with God, together, like a lobster looming large.

Sabbatical 17: The Gift of Presence

It was the last few weeks of my sabbatical, the lazy days of summer, before I was to resume pastoral leadership at VEV. Joanna and our leadership team had done such a good job of shielding me from the day-to-day issues and concerns of the church, so I was free to enjoy relational connections and community. Vancouver had been in a full-on drought since April and the landscape was unseasonably brown and barren. During this time, Kathleen and I enjoyed taking care of people’s kids together and hanging out at parks with VEV folks. Having slowed down significantly, I was able to see so much more clearly the remarkable treasure of friends we had in our church family.

Our Vancouver born  grandson, Samuel,
enjoying the Whitecaps game with grandpa

We also continued to enjoy our extended Vineyard family, including David and Anita Ruis, who came to serve our church for two Sundays in worship and teaching, one of those while on their holidays! Remarkable! Then, Danielle and Markus and our grandkids arrived during the second week of August so we also enjoyed hanging out with them together with yet more church families for great picnics. Next, we enjoyed a remarkable reunion with our leadership team for a social, hosted by the ever-hospitable Pallisters. In addition, I took some time throughout the month to interview our wonderful pre-teens to get their perspective on what preteen’s ministry should look like at VEV. One other highlight was taking my Vancouver-born grandson, Samuel, to a Whitecaps game as a belated birthday present for him. That night, the Whitecaps had a goal feast, winning 4-0 and we saw two goals scored right in front of us! So much fun!  

Still another one of my August highlights was being asked by Karen and Stephen to take

Sarah (having just lost a  tooth)
 and Samantha. Does it get any
better than this?

care of their primary/preschool aged daughters, Sarah and Samantha for a day. Kathleen had to work and I was a bit insecure about taking them on my own for the whole day, but Karen and Stephen seemed confident that it would be fine, so I went for it. We had an amazing day together, just hanging out in their neighbourhood. I learned so much from them. However, 15 minutes after Karen had left for work, the girls had been rough housing a bit together, and Sarah came up to me and announced that her tooth had been knocked out! I could see she was bleeding.  I thought, “O great, 15 minutes into my babysitting venture and we have blood.” Well, it all turned out well as it was a baby tooth. Actually, it was an event that Sarah was quite proud of. So, instead of a disaster, I got in on a milestone! It was a full day. I got home, retired early and slept well, with a smile on my face, I’m sure.  

The Radical Nature of Slowing Down

Slowing down is harder than we realize. The greatest price of slowing down is that everyone else is in a hurry and so they think you are in their way. Well, actually you are, but maybe they need to slow down too. For example, when you are in traffic and you are going the speed limit, and everyone else wants to speed, you appear to be an annoyance, even if you stay out of the passing lane. Life is like that too. The sabbatical had slowed me down but now I felt the whole world was in a hurry. However, slowing down meant I could be more attentive and more present – to myself, to others, to God, but it was radically counter-cultural. 

It was at this time that I was reminded of something I discovered when I was working in the Department of Mining Engineering office at UBC from 1991-1996. During that time, I was able to live the Good News in such a way that, according to the testimony of the department head, professors, and staff at the time, it had brought much peace and healing to the department. One professor had wept in my little office area as I prayed and journeyed with him through his 20 year old son’s cancer diagnosis, and subsequent recovery. One lady saw remarkable improvement from a hand injury after I had prayed for her. When I would walk into the office in the morning, this colleague would announce to anyone in her hearing, “The healer is here.” I discovered that being a pastor is not what you do, it’s simply who you are. It is sharing the gift of presence. This reality was renewed during my last month of sabbatical, as I was simply chose to be among the congregation. I realized afresh that “pastor” was simply who I was, not a job description. I didn’t have to try to do anything. I was looking forward to leading and teaching again, but the essence of being a pastor was relational presence.  

Clarity for the Future and Re-Entry

I was beginning to receive more clarity on direction for my future, an important objective for the sabbatical. One thing that emerged for me was spiritual direction. For many years now, I have regularly received spiritual direction from Jeff Imbach who is part of an organization called Soulstreams. I cannot describe the number of times these sessions have been life giving and life-saving, including the care provided for me on the sabbatical. Both Kathleen and I discerned that I was being drawn towards more contemplative living. So, I enrolled in Living from the Heart, a foundational course with Soulstreams towards receiving training in spiritual direction. This one-year course has two one-week intensives – one which was last November and the next one will be in Mid-May. The course involves monthly small groups, reading, and reflection assignments. It continues to nurture me and keep me present now that I’ve returned to pastoral work, along with the spiritual direction from Jeff that I continue to receive. Indeed, I want to pastor through spiritual direction for my remaining years.

Hanging out with the grandkids in the 'hood

Related to this, I believe that I am to be present to young leaders. This kind of investment has always given me so much life over the years and it has resulted in so much good fruit. Perhaps related to this, Kathleen and I believe that we are to be closer to our children and grandchildren in the coming season. Having said that, we can’t make it happen, but it has become a prayer priority for us.

Finally, at the end of August, Kathleen and I made the transition to full re-entry by attending VEV Church Camp at Fort Langley. After camping one night, I was invited to share for a few minutes at our Saturday morning communion service. Right in the middle of my sharing, a massive windstorm hit. Trees and branches started crashing down, and our church family camp was cut short as camp staff had to clear the grounds for safety reasons. Then the rains came. Miraculously no one was hurt. A sign? If so, I’m still not sure what it meant but the timing was interesting. All I know for sure is that it was time to resume pastoring again and to share the greatest gift that I had received from the sabbatical - the gift of presence.  

On the river at Church Camp  at
Ft. Langley - on the sunset of the Sabbatical