small church

A Purposefully Small Church: Walking to Church

DSC_0214.jpg

Americans are a mobile people. We drive, we move, we commute, and now in COVIDtide, we telecommute. A recent article in the New York Times suggested that the societal impacts of coronavirus extend well beyond health implications- going so far as to restructure the way we work, and even the layout of a very cities. It seems that technology has finally made good on its promise to liberate us from the office: we can choose to work wherever we want.

If you listen to our rhetoric, diversity (whether cultural, religious or racial) is a good thing; but when you look at our mobile lives, with more freedom of choice than we have ever had in human history, we see quite a different picture. When people can choose where they work or live, they almost always choose to be around people like themselves. This choice actually has a disastrous effect on our city commons- because we are never around people unlike us, we fear them or misunderstand them much more easily. Freedom, choice and mobility has led to polarity and conflict, not utopia.

In this cultural moment, walking to a small neighborhood church is one of the most rebellious things you can do. It makes our religious liturgies exist in space and time. It forces us to be both visible and incarnational in our neighborhoods. And when they see us from their front porch, it forces our neighbors to ask, “Where are all the people that I like in my neighborhood walking to on Sunday mornings?” By walking weekly, we establish rhythms of visibility and presence in our neighborhood; the same neighborhood that we love and serve throughout the week.

A Purposefully Small Church: Flexibility in Chaos

Join us in our new location, 728 E. 55th, Sundays at 10. Just not too many of yall.

Join us in our new location, 728 E. 55th, Sundays at 10. Just not too many of yall.

The story we tell ourselves about the world up until very recently was simple- the power of mankind to make the world a better place is increasing rapidly, as scientific and rational thinking spreads and superstitition vanishes. The more data and information we get about the world, the better we get at ordering it for the good of humanity.

Then came 2020. We got tons of data, but so much of it was bad: racial injustice, police brutality, COVID, murder hornets… the chaos quickly overwhelmed our information. And even the information that we DID have didn’t bring us together; it only increased the chaos, as different interest groups used the same information to bolster opposing narratives.

Many of us have watched conflicts over what to do with our data play out between churches and the government. In particular, the conflict between the government of California and Grace Community Church, a megachurch led by the influential and outspoken pastor John McArthur, has drawn attention as two massive systems, church and government, come into conflict over the same data.

What does all of this have to do with the purposefully small church? In times of chaos, the small church is able to flexibly navigate difficult cultural environments. Because we have so little at stake in terms of our public impact, we are able to make decisions not on the basis of what they will look like on the internet, but instead on the basis of what is best for the spiritual health of our church family and our neighbors. Rather than posturing for the sake of a global audience, we are able to adopt a humble posture of service. We are able to meet safely, and still practice the Christian faith and worship as our people have for 2000 years. We can honor our God, and our authorities, not in spite of our small size, but because of it!

A Purposefully Small Church: Mission and Holy Farce

_DSC0302.jpg

Its a weird-sounding idea, isn’t it? Almost an oxymoron; or like the pastor is a moron. But what if, in difficult times, the best possible church is the intentionally small one? Over the next few weeks, we will be doing a periodic series on why CTK is a small church… on purpose. Last week: the Family of God. This week: The Small Church and Mission. Next Week: Meeting God.


Power and religion have a complex relationship. History is replete with examples of religious people (of all stripes) using the power of the sword or of the state to compel conversion, or coerce cooperation with various tenets of their faith, with results that are usually destructive to our common humanity. But recent events in the United States have demonstrated that it isn’t just political, violent power which gets used in the advancement of certain religious ideals; more powerful cultures can dominate less powerful cultures just by virtue of the strength of their institutions. Local, neighborly cultures get subsumed into the mono-culture of multi-national corporations, which have no problem doing violence to local distinctiveness. This violence is always justified with talk of the ideals of freedom, justice, fairness… but it is violent nonetheless. And it always provokes a backlash. The question is, “What kind of backlash?”

You would think then, that a community called “Christ the King” would be aimed at accumulating just this sort of domineering power. The reality is quite different. The kingdom of God comes, not by invasion, but by invitation. Not by sword, but by service. Not with a leer, but a laugh. Not by force, but by farce. A holy farce which sits, laughs, listen, tells the truth, woos. It is the way of God himself; the way of humility (Phil. 2:6-11). Someone once said that you cannot understand the Suffering Savior unless you understand the court jester. The court jester was able to tell the truth in surprising, shocking ways, precisely because he was beneath contempt. He could get away with it, because he had nothing left to lose. What could be more laughable (is enjoyable or entertaining a better word?) than God eating fish with his hands like a child who cannot use a fork?

The purposefully small church is perfectly positioned to pursue a life of holy farce. How can we do anything else? We are under no illusions about our power, or our relevance! We dare to tell the greatest joke of all: that where two or three are gathered together in Jesus’ name, he will be with us (Matt. 18:20)! We are a living parable of the kingdom, which begins as small as a mustard seed, and ends in the restoration of the world. Our only power is Spiritual Power. Our only invasion is Incarnation. Come eat fish with your hands!

Children we were—our forts of sand were even as weak as we, High as they went we piled them up to break that bitter sea. Fools as we were in motley, all jangling and absurd, When all church bells were silent our cap and bells were heard.- GK Chesterton