My hopes simultaneously soared and deflated. A young family with six children visited our church that Sunday morning. Six! That alone was enough to double the size of our children’s Sunday school classes from pre-school through elementary. New to the area, they were looking for a church home, and we did everything short of rolling out a literal red carpet. We learned their names, their children’s names and ages, where they lived, what had brought them to the area, and their prayer needs. We connected them with people in our congregation who shared their interests or could help with their needs.
Still, I told myself, “Don’t get your hopes up. They won’t be back.”
But they did come back! They returned on Wednesday night for a youth presentation. My hopes cautiously rose as one of our ladies struck up a friendly conversation with them, and for a moment, I allowed myself to imagine them becoming part of our little church family.
Then came the words I’d been expecting, and my fanciful vision evaporated like a morning mist. “We’re still shopping around for a new church. We want to check out some of the other churches in the area.”
Although disappointed, I reminded myself that there was nothing wrong with people wanting to check out area churches before deciding where to attend worship. I heard our sweet lady give the proper reply. “We’d love to have you here. But you need to go where God calls you.”
This is the right response—the churchy answer. But, if I’m being honest, it also feels a bit… worn.
Let me explain.
We’re a small church with limited attractions for young families. We can’t compete with the larger churches—nor are we supposed to. We’re all on the same team, working for the same Kingdom.
Still, I sometimes wonder …
Does anyone ever walk into a small church like ours and think, “This church has some holes? Maybe God sent us here to help fill those holes.”
In other words: How could God use me in this church?
What is the first thing you look for when “shopping” for a new church? Is it the dynamic and charismatic preaching? The music? The programs? The convenience of multiple services that fit your schedule? The friendly people? The classes that fit your needs? Proximity to your home?
To put it bluntly: What’s in it for me?
But what if that’s the wrong question? What if the most important question is simply this: Does this church faithfully preach and teach the Word of God?
If the answer is yes, then everything else—while not unimportant—is a matter of preference. And preferences, while comfortable, were never meant to be our compass.
What if, instead of asking what the church can offer us, we asked: What can I contribute to this church? How has God gifted me to serve? Could God use me in this place? Is this where I’m needed?
Years ago, a single line from Rick Warren’s The Purpose Driven Life shifted my thinking completely.
“It’s not about you.”
Wait…what?
You mean it’s not about my favorite style of music? Not about whether the service time fits neatly into my weekend plans? Not about whether every program perfectly meets my needs? Nope. It’s about God. It’s not about what you get out of church. It’s what you bring to the church.
Have you ever left a church service thinking, “I didn’t get anything out of that service today?”
Here’s a gentle truth. The service wasn’t for you. It was for Him. The better questions are: “What did I offer? Did I worship wholeheartedly? Did I come ready to give, not just receive?”
Let me take this idea a step further. What if you chose a church not based on where you’d be most comfortable, but where you’d be most useful?
- No children’s program? Maybe your family can be the beginning of one.
- Small youth group? Your teenager might be the encouragement that group desperately needs.
- No class for young couples? Perhaps you’re meant to start one. Maybe because you are there, other young couples will come.
- Thin on volunteers? Maybe that’s exactly why you’re there. Maybe you were meant to teach a Sunday school class, add your voice to the pitifully small choir, or help in the kitchen.
It’s a bit of a catch-22 for small churches. Small churches don’t have programs because they don’t have people, and they don’t have people because they don’t have programs.
Why not you?
My husband and I served in a large church for many years, and we loved it. But I will say that, even after we’d been called to serve in another church and had been gone for quite a while, some people didn’t even realize we’d left. They assumed we were attending a different service.
Since then, we have served in several smaller churches, and I’ve discovered something I deeply value. I like being missed. I like knowing that people know my name. I like knowing that my presence matters. I like knowing that when one person is absent, the whole body feels it.
Yes, by all means, pray about where God is calling you. But maybe shift the prayer just a little.
Not just: Where will I be fed?
But also: Where am I needed?
Not just: What fits me best?
But: Where can I serve God best?
To borrow and reframe a familiar line from our 35th President, John Fitzgerald Kennedy: Ask not what your church can do for you—ask what you can do for your church.
