In 2012, I had back surgery that left me sidelined for months. I secretly looked forward to the rest—books to read, movies to watch, naps to take. But what I didn’t expect was how isolating it would be. Ministry had always been full and busy, but in recovery, the silence was deafening. That season of unexpected loneliness opened my eyes to a deeper need that runs through our churches:
People are aching for family, not just activity—connection, not just attendance.
One day, still in recovery, I noticed smoke coming from a house down the street. Without thinking, I threw on a robe, grabbed my walker, and shuffled down the block. It didn’t matter that I could barely walk—I just needed to be near people again. The firefighters, police, neighbors (and most notably my wife) were all in agreement that I had no business being at the scene of a house fire, but that fire reminded me of something I’ve seen time and again: Isolation isn’t just uncomfortable—it’s dangerous. People aren’t just hurting—they’re hurting alone.
Anyone who has ever been sick, hurt, afraid, sad, or felt the crushing grip of guilt knows the worst part isn’t the symptom: it’s the isolation. In 25 years of ministry, one truth has been constant. People are hungry for healthy relationships. They feel completely isolated, with nowhere to turn. We live in a world full of broken marriages, fractured families, absentee parents, abandoned friendships, and betrayed co-workers. And in that world, people are left knowing they were made for more but not knowing where to find what they need.
“People are hungry for healthy relationships.”
Sometimes, church leaders know the church somehow holds the answer to this relational need but don’t know how to deliver the answer to the people. Smaller churches tend to know the names of their people but struggle to create systems that care for each piece of the family. Larger churches are adept at programming but struggle to know each and every person in a meaningful way. And medium-sized churches often get caught in the middle and feel the tension from both sides of the struggle.
I’ve written in the past about how my church has repeated the same mantra for a decade: We want to rediscover family the way God intended it to be. The plan is simple, but the execution has been difficult. Our struggle has been abundantly clear over the past decade, as we’ve more than doubled in size, adding additional services, a new campus, and a strong online component. The question we’ve been attempting to answer is this: Is it possible to deepen relationships while also seeing your church grow larger? Let me share three strategic decisions that have proved helpful for us.
First, we leveraged the power of the smaller gathering.
As we began growing, we quickly recognized that the size of our auditorium was a liability, with only enough seating for 170 people at maximum capacity. We were faced with a decision to either build a brand-new building or find a creative solution. And because we had more creativity than dollars, we found a way to hold three back-to-back-to-back worship services in the same space on Sunday morning.
We also made a conscious decision that it didn’t really matter what we were singing, as long as we were giving God praise and being theologically accurate. So, we chose to have one traditional service with older hymns and two modern services with music from any generation. All three gatherings hear the same message and are united by a common Kingdom-driven vision of multiplication.
Along the way, we launched an additional gathering on Saturday evenings at another location, giving us a total of four worship services with the largest of those consisting of approximately 120 adults in attendance. All of this means several things: I preach a lot over the course of a weekend—four times to be exact. Our staff sings, teaches, and greets a lot over the course of a weekend. And every time people show up to worship, they are in a room with people they know and are known by. Along the way we have increased our total capacity from 170 chairs to 200, and we are currently exploring options for additional gatherings. But having seen the power of smaller gatherings, I can’t imagine forcing our family to fit into a massive auditorium.
“Having seen the power of smaller gatherings, I can’t imagine forcing our family to fit into a massive auditorium.”
Second, we leveraged the power of the oikos.
The Greek word oikos means “household” or “family” but goes further than our Western view of a nuclear family. The word carries the weight of an extended family functioning as a community. As we began to catch on to the vision of the oikos, plans came about to launch a network of groups.
Our oikos groups are all unique but carry some common themes: They are intended to be multi-generational with children, parents, and grandparents all gathering in the same home. They eat a full meal together because, well, it seems like that’s what Jesus intended families to do together. They celebrate spiritual breakthrough and blessing. They give praise to God and open the Word together. They pray for each other and interact outside of the actual gathering. They can often grow quite large, with some of our oikos groups averaging 30-40 people. That’s both a crowded home and a powerful family!
Third, we leveraged the power of the elder.
Elders were intended to be spiritual leaders, not boardroom executives. Based on that belief, our elders each carry the weight of shepherding a portion of our church family. Every person who is regularly a part of our gatherings belongs to a shepherding list and is prayed for by an elder who checks in with them on a regular basis.
Because our church continues to grow, our shepherding lists are updated at least twice a year and have grown so large that our elders sometimes struggle to keep up. To solve the issue of scaling due to growth, each of our elders have invited a person or two from the church to begin assisting them in the process of connecting and praying for the church family. It’s a simple solution and also feels a lot like we’re discipling people to become shepherds. As our elders and their disciples are reaching out, having conversations, and praying for the family, the people in our gatherings continue to feel known, valued, and loved.
“Because our church continues to grow, our shepherding lists are updated at least twice a year.”
Is it possible to deepen relationships while also seeing your church grow larger? Absolutely it is. But only if we’re willing to lead differently. Growth doesn’t have to mean anonymity. With intentional strategy and Spirit-led creativity, we can rediscover that church was meant to be something far greater than merely a growing crowd. When churches choose to function like families, not factories, something powerful happens: People feel seen, known, and loved. Programs may draw crowds, but it’s relationships that build the Kingdom.
