My late father was a church planter, both in the United States and in Zambia, Africa. One of the things I most admire about my dad’s church planting and missionary endeavors is that he was a pioneer in the spirit of Paul the Apostle. He didn’t plant new churches across the street from other churches, or even in the same towns where there were already churches. He wanted to go where the Gospel was not. So he did.
Today, most church planters seem to be taking a staggeringly different approach.
Even in my own small town where I pastor, a group calling itself a “ministry” started up directly across the street from our church (in our old building, in fact), and — a few years and an adultery scandal later — eventually re-labelled themselves as a church. This isn’t an isolated event: it happens all the time. In fact, I’ll speak plainly: I have quite a few dear friends that were “directed by God” to set up shop in towns where there are already solid, Bible-preaching churches that could really have done without the latest attraction pulling their members away.
SO what gives?
If, after all, we’re serving the same King and have the same goal, why are we starting churches in the same town (or even on the same street!) as each other, only to compete like fast food joints? Oh, sure, we can talk about cooperative efforts for the Kingdom, but let’s not be naïve — if the point really was genuine, selfless cooperation with the goal of winning a town for Jesus, you wouldn’t find multiple churches right next to each other like Chili’s and Applebee’s and TGIF and Ruby Tuesday’s. No, you’d have a more unified, resource-rich, heavily-populated single body in that town, not an array of churches of the same general faith tradition competing with each other for members in that community.
Case in point: I have a family member who pastors a conservative independent Baptist church in Big Sky Country somewhere. In his little town, there are no less than five churches almost exactly like his all in the immediate vicinity. We’re not talking about Lutherans and UCC churches, folks — we’re talking about churches of the exact same denominational stripe. To the outside world, what do you think this looks like? Cooperation or competition? If you’re in the habit of being honest with yourself, you have to admit it looks like competition.
Besides the obvious reality that this isn’t nearly as problematic in less-independent denominational traditions than mine (chalk one up for the more presbytery-oriented and organized denominations!), I have some ideas as to why this occurs.
Here’s what I think
First, I think a lot of it is a predilection to perceived supernaturality. In short, it’s “the call.” Whether it was a license plate in a dream or a brochure that caught someone’s eye when they lifted their head from prayer time, this person believes that God has led them to their chosen town by way of some sort of divine dowsing-rod behavior. I know of more than one church planter who read a verse in Deuteronomy about “going north” and (yes, really) saw this as a sign for their missional call. And with that sort of call under one’s belt, how could anyone do anything but go to this town and plant a church, despite there being churches on every corner that preach and teach the exact same things, right down to the Sunday School and VBS curricula? Come on. Can’t question the Lord’s Leading™.
Secondly, I submit to you that a lot of it has to do with denominational superiority. In essence, even if there’s another church of very similar faith and practice right around the corner, they’re not quite right in every area of doctrine, so a new church is needed. A good one. The existing churches, well, they’re not evangelistic enough. They’re not conservative enough. They don’t have enough programs for the kids. And these little opportunities for improvement (according to the church planter, anyway) are magnified into opportunities for correction and competition. And so “this town needs a good Bible-preaching church” becomes the rallying cry; not because there aren’t any, but because there aren’t any that meet the church planter’s subjective standard of “good.”
Listen, I heard this a lot at a church planter’s conference I used to attend annually: “Brothers, there are no solid churches in this town — I desperately need your support!” When in actuality there were three or four good, orthodox, Biblical, conservative, Bible-preaching churches in that very same midwestern town; they did not, however, look exactly like this church planter thought they should look.
Third, and possibly most importantly, I perceive that a huge part of this is individual pride. By this, I’m referring to the church planter who is God’s gift to any community, and there’s no real possibility that the existing churches in the area are going to enhance or grow Christ’s Kingdom like this church planter would. This church planter is going places. He has ideas. He’s going to take this town for Christ. He won preaching competitions in Bible college, you know. And so, regardless of whomever is already laboring there or however long they’ve been there, it’s up to this church planter to make it happen with his new church. And he will. Bring it on, Gates of Hell! You won’t prevail against this fella! You may have beaten all the other schmucks in this town, but not this guy!
Lastly, I’d be remiss not to mention a simple and often-overlooked factor: personal preference. Sometimes a church planter just likes a town. Maybe for nostalgic reasons or familiarity or perceived economic stability or some other factor — who knows. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but preference does not a divine call make, especially when one’s new church-plant negatively disrupts the existing churches in the area.
Right now, there’s a church that’s coming to a nearby town in my state, and their presence is attracting members from a few nearby churches. After all, they’re coming with their new programs, kids’ functions, and attractional events, complete with a fresh, hip name and cool logo. Naturally, the existing churches are a little bent out of shape about it, but the irony is that the churches that are currently being siphoned of people are, for the most part, churches that just got done doing this same thing to another decades-old church in that same area several years ago! It’s a nasty cycle, this business of planting churches in towns where good churches exist. And I promise you this same thing will happen to the newest church as soon as another church sets its sights on this town.
Enough ideas. How about a solution?
You know, for all the current bloviations about Kingdom cooperation, I can’t help but notice there’s very little actual willingness on the part of would-be church planters to actually, you know, begin with actual cooperation instead of competition. That is, to jump in with an existing church and join forces with them in the interest of Christ’s Kingdom at the expense of one’s own. After all, isn’t that what Paul’s co-laborers did? They didn’t start new works down the road from where Paul’s churches met: they joined up with the ones that Paul started and helped them grow and flourish. One team, one goal. Real, actual unity.
So think about it: what would happen if we, instead of planting new churches a stone’s throw from existing ones, joined up with existing (and often struggling) churches and strengthened them and evangelized the community from within them? But you know what that would mean: the would-be church planter wouldn’t be able to be the Top Dog. They would actually have to be content to not have their name in lights and be an…unrecognized laborer *gags*. They would actually have to put their own ambitions on the shelf and care about the lost and dying community more than being a pastor. And they might have to get a real job, like those poor idiots Paul and Barnabas and Silas.
I wonder how likely that is to happen.
In a culture where pastors typically don’t want to work an outside job unless they absolutely have to, and where gilded pastoral placards and business cards are often ostentatiously displayed more prominently than love and hospitality, I don’t think this is going to happen anytime soon.
I’m winding down, promise
I’ll conclude by making it clear that I don’t think there’s never a good reason for a church to open up next to another church of similar faith and practice. But I am having a hard time coming up with a good reason outside of unique and extenuating circumstances. So why has (what should be) the exception become the norm? As much as I hate to admit it, something really, really smells rotten in the state of Denmark. Could it really be that the Kingdom is suffering because of too many churches in some small towns just as much as it is because of too few in others? I submit to you that, oddly enough, this seems to be the case.
So here’s hoping that we, by some miracle, eventually start to see fewer small, fractional churches playing Hungry Hippos with each others’ members and instead witness more substantial, unified, resource-filled churches with a more impactful, unanimous, significant presence in their towns. What a testimony that would be!
