New life in any amount beats decline and death hands down.
—Stephen McMullin
If you’re a rural pastor, as I am, you have probably read books that claim to address the needs of the small, rural congregation, only to discover that to many authors, small means a church of less than two hundred and rural means a town of less than ten thousand. You’ve probably heard exciting news about churches adding thousands of members every year, too.
Where does this leave the pastor of a church of forty in a community of five hundred? What does church growth mean in such a congregation?
More than eight years ago, I was called to a two-church pastorate; the smaller church had a membership of twenty-one, the larger a membership of sixty-two. On my first Sunday in the smaller church, I preached to seventeen people: two men, twelve women, and three children. About sixty attended regularly in the larger church during my first year, but sixteen months after my arrival, more than twenty of them left after a lengthy dispute. A lot of people in both churches seemed discouraged.
I cannot tell you that in eight years the churches have been transformed into thousand-member congregations; we are still small, rural churches. The smaller church has 24 members now; the larger church has grown to 99 members. But my experience has convinced me that there are principles that will help the small, rural church grow and have a vital ministry.
Growth hindrances
Only in the past few years have I begun to understand some of the dynamics of the rural church, and I’ve made some positive discoveries in the process. Let’s consider some of the things most important in these churches.
Traditions. Some traditions are beneficial, and others severely hinder the church’s ministry, but in a rural church almost all are considered sacred.
A pastor recently told me that in his first church only the women and girls entered the sanctuary before the service. The men and boys talked outside until the organist began playing “Holy, Holy, Holy,” their signal to be seated. Traditions in a rural church will dictate everything from where a family sits to who rings the church bell to where people park their cars.
I’ve come to realize these traditions aren’t frivolous; they’re important to the church. I may have the difficult task of helping end some traditions, but it’s good to understand that for some in the congregation, it will be like burying a close relative. Wise pastors care for such members with the sensitivity typical of comforting a bereaved family.
History. Many of these rural churches are afraid to look to the future, but they recall a glorious past. “My great-grandfather made the pulpit” or “Our family members have been deacons here for four generations” are comments that tell us the past is important to the church.
Many of these churches really do have quite a history. In my smaller church, a meeting was held in 1832 that resulted in a decision for a group of churches to band together into what later became our present denomination. In the nineteenth century, the church had more than a hundred members, and denominational meetings and Sunday school conventions regularly were held in the church.
The history of your church is no less important to your people. I’ve found it wise to take time to find out about my churches’ past in order to better understand how they became what they are today.
Church officers. Holding an office in many rural churches has little to do with function. Often there is no nominating committee; many officers simply serve perpetual terms.
As a student, I assisted a rural church pastor who was frustrated with the volunteer organist. After he talked with her about how the church music might be improved, she responded by resigning publicly the following Sunday because her position as organist had been “called into question.” She had been church organist for decades, since age seventeen.
Some pastors have talked to me about their frustration with lifelong officers in rural churches who no longer carry out the duties of their office. In most cases, other faithful people, with or without official positions, see that the work is done. But that’s not the way I understand things are supposed to operate, so it tends to make me uncomfortable.
The Sunday school. The pastor accustomed to Christian education activities during the Sunday school hour will receive a rude awakening in many rural churches. In a very small church, the Sunday school often boasts a larger attendance than the worship service. In fact, the Sunday school opening may well serve as a sort of pastorless worship service and can last as long as a half hour. Then the church business has to be handled. I had to get used to the reality that decisions already made by the trustees or deacons had to be discussed again in Sunday school for final approval.
Actually, this no longer happens in my churches. Perhaps such discussions are only a long-term reaction to strained communication, so the business gets discussed in Sunday school because the pastor is often absent. The importance of Sunday school for transacting church business diminishes when we conscientiously involve the congregation in decisions they fully understand.
Growth principles
Answers to the needs of the small, struggling congregation are not simple. Not all churches share similar circumstances. Not all react the same way. But I’ve found the following principles effective in enabling my churches to grow and in offering hope for continuing growth.
Forget the short term. In a congregation of forty, four deaths in one year constitutes a 10 percent decline. Such statistics can be discouraging. I recommend keeping such statistics but comparing them after five years, not after five months. Only after being in my churches six years could I see actual numerical growth in both of them.
Set reasonable goals. It’s easy to arrive at a church of thirty members and say, “I want the church to double in size in five years.” We think, That’s only six people a year. Why I can reach that many myself! The problem is, it’s usually not the only problem.
It means changing some of the traditions of the church. We must initiate building improvements. We work at making the offices of the church more functional. And on and on. All this takes time, and meanwhile there are funerals and sermons.
The upshot: the evangelistic calling doesn’t get done. So we get discouraged after two years with no results and move on—just before ministry could have had a lasting impact. A better scenario is to set reasonable goals that take into account the unaccountable.
Target areas of outreach. Small churches don’t have the resources to cover all the bases for ministry, so I’ve learned to concentrate on the areas of greatest need. If men aren’t attending church, we can make them the subjects of outreach ministry. If young families aren’t being reached, we can lean toward beginning ministries aimed at this group.
The alternative to focusing ministry is to spatter a little ministry everywhere. Then we reach no one effectively and exhaust everyone in the process.
In my smaller church, we decided to try a men’s breakfast. Considering that only two men regularly attended the church, it was an uphill battle. But it was the area of greatest need, and it has been successful over the years in bringing men to the church for fellowship, a devotional time, and prayer—men who still feel uneasy attending the Sunday services.
Help members think like visitors. This strategy is crucial to turning a dying church around. Walk into the church on Sunday morning and ask yourself, If I were attending for the first time, what would make me want to come back? Or not want to come back? What catches your eye? What attitudes do you notice? Is the church clean? Do people stare at you as you enter? Is the piano in tune? These types of questions helped me notice things hindering the effectiveness of my church.
We did a survey in the smaller church during my first year. The members all said the church was well kept; the nonmembers said the church was dirty. The nonmembers were right; the members had simply stopped noticing.
Our biggest problem was the church building itself, and I suspect that’s true in many other churches. Who wants to begin attending a church where the very physical condition of the building tells you the church members don’t expect the church to continue for long?
The community learns much about a church from its building. The members may say that ministry to children is important, but if there are poor nursery facilities and no rest rooms, the community knows that children aren’t really a priority. A building that’s attractive and meets the needs of community and congregation will encourage visitors to come and remain.
Develop a positive ministry. I recently read the minutes of a business meeting in a small church. The pastor told the people that they were uncommitted, that he was the only one serving the Lord in the church, and that because of their lack of dedication, the church wasn’t growing.
My heart went out to the pastor and the congregation because I know the frustration that can so easily engulf a rural pastor. This pastor was stymied by the church’s traditions, and the congregation was discouraged because they couldn’t meet the pastor’s expectations. Obviously there was little growth in that congregation.
I’ve learned there is nothing to gain by criticizing the status quo in the church. Instead, I try to get people to focus on how much better things will be once certain changes are made.
For instance, we have accomplished some expensive building improvements in both churches, yet I’ve been careful not to find fault with the building in its prerenovated condition. I can achieve a much more positive atmosphere by seeking to establish a vision for what we might do, not by criticizing what we haven’t yet done.
I won’t teach church members to be thankful for one another unless I am genuinely thankful for them. The problem is that sometimes I get frustrated, and I want to push people toward ministry and outreach. At those times, I try to remember that instead I need to lead people to ministry and outreach. And I’ve learned that I can’t lead anyone when I harbor a negative attitude. Once I’m excited about the challenges God has laid before the church, however, I can share that excitement with others.
Increase the church’s profile. A growing church has somehow announced to the community that the church is there and people are welcome. Rural churches, I have found, enjoy three areas of special opportunity to attract outsiders.
First, the rural church is potentially the focal point of a small community. The other rural institution—the one-room schoolhouse—is long gone. Today, students from my pastorate attend one of three regional high schools; the school districts were set up with little regard for the boundaries of rural communities.
My rural churches can capitalize on this factor by hosting special events that will attract the attention of the whole community. The community can be included in church anniversary services, building dedications, or Sunday school events. The facilities can be used for other community events such as picnics or musical programs. These events tell our community that we’re alive and active.
Second, special days can be used to great advantage. On the Saturday before Mother’s Day last year, our deacons went to every home in the communities served by our churches and presented the mothers with a rose and an invitation to the church services.
That’s impossible in a community of several thousand, but in a rural community it’s feasible and fosters a warm attitude toward the church, which can directly increase church attendance.
Events such as graduation or Christmas offer excellent opportunities as well. Not many people are invited to graduation at the regional high schools, so we have a community graduates’ reception after an evening service in June. All the graduates in the area are honored, and the whole community is invited. It’s always one of the best-attended services of the year, and the occasion lends itself beautifully to a service that emphasizes the need to trust in God for the future.
Third, our newsletter works to make the community aware of church activities. We send a quarterly newsletter to homes in our communities, and it’s amazing to discover how many people who don’t attend our churches are quite knowledgeable about our churches’ activities because of the newsletter. I also consider the newsletter a great springboard for conversation during pastoral visitation in nonchurch homes.
One often-overlooked factor is the church sign—or the lack of one. Rural church members may think everyone knows about the church, but that’s an illusion. Because I can’t imagine going to a store that bears no indication of its nature, I’m constantly amazed at the number of churches that don’t have even a sign telling the name and denomination of the church, let alone the times of services or the pastor’s name. I doubt if newcomers attend a nameless church. A simple sign in front of the church can make people feel expected—and wanted and welcome.
Growth curve
I’ve dealt with my share of frustrations as a rural church pastor. When I first arrived, I wanted to see great things happen overnight. What I saw instead was a decline in the smaller church due to the failing health of the elderly members, and a decline in the other church because a key family left after a simmering dispute boiled over. People in the smaller church were talking about closing in five years; in the larger church, people were emotionally drained by the exodus. So was I.
I’m glad I didn’t resign. Both churches have survived. The smaller church has not only maintained its membership and improved its ministries, but it also has begun to reach younger families and new residents in the community. And the larger church has grown remarkably, especially in the past three years.
Perhaps in a growing urban setting a net increase of three members in one church and thirty-seven in the other doesn’t seem like much, but when I see the people in these communities who have come to know Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord, I realize the frustrations and effort are worth it. New life in any amount beats decline and death hands down.
Copyright © 1996 by Christianity Today/Leadership
