You can’t tell by the size
When judging the success of churches, there continues to be a tendency to fall back on numbers. Attendees, members, baptisms, baby dedications, weddings and souls declared and delivered for Christ are all indicators of the value of the work that is being done. The more the merrier. Reality, however, sheds a different light on the work we think has been done.
A glance backward in my own Western Plains district (comprised of Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado and northern New Mexico) provides interesting insight into the numbers game. The first church in the district was established at Cottonwood, Kansas in 1856, followed in short order by the Grasshopper Falls (1862) and Wolf River (1859) congregations. A nod to indigenous roots on the high plains includes Osage (1878), Ottawa (1892), Cheyenne (1886), Olathe (1881), Neosho (1871) and Cherokee (1882) churches, as well as fanciful names often derived from local geography, especially creeks and washes: Fly Creek (1878), Pleasant View (1886), Rock Creek (1885), East Maple Grove (1896), Grand Prairie (1882), Beaver Creek (1882), Limestone (1887), Elm Creek (1886), and Antelope Park (1889).
A fascinating overview based on establishment dates considered the numbers of churches that were begun and that have since receded into the religious landscape. From 1856 to 1900, the German Baptist Brethren started nearly 123 churches in the district, rebranding their denomination the Church of the Brethren as the new century began. From that time in the life of the district until today, a total of 40-some churches were established, some that currently remain and others that did not survive. Of the approximately 165 congregations formed since 1856, viable self-sustaining churches now number around 30.
A strict review of numbers is a little disheartening. It is nothing new, however, to rural far-flung churches who have lived on the edge since their inception. The family of seven I grew up in often doubled the number of church attendees at the small congregation we supported. Yet it is precisely the small factor that helps us now to recall the precious people and moments from that experience that have remained with us for life.
The lives of members remain long after their physical bodies have departed. I recall with clarity everyone who helped build my faith, even as a young child. There was “Brennie,” “Spark Plug,” “Grog,” “Happy Bottoms” and a few others that did not deserve their nicknames, but whom we now value in ways we did not then understand. We were family that worked through problems and concerns with care for all, church members, friends, and detractors alike.
Years later, a dear friend remarked of some of the small churches she observed within the Brethren. I will always be grateful and humbled by her observation, “See how they love one another!” That is likely the reality for many small groups that get dismissed by the numbers game that declares them unsuccessful due to their size or perceived lack of ability to intelligently explore a powerful and lasting theology.
Look out for Gravel Hill (1936) and Silver Lake (1893), Eight Mile (1880), Lute Valley (1888), Protection (1912), Good Hope (1886) in Haxtun or West Good Hope (1908) in Sterling. Do not be eager to dismiss Burr Oak (1872), Muddy Valley (1893), Soldier Creek (1877) or Dorchester (1882). There is something of value that succeeds their presence. Many good things happened, no matter how short-lived they were. Might we be as successful in our small churches.
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