Small Towns and Small Churches are Unique

Many Texan counties, like Fayette, have a story about an old-time sheriff called out to a rural community to apprehend an outlaw. He rode with his deputies to a house where the suspect had been spotted, and - sure enough - his distinctive horse was tied up out front. The posse sneaked in the back door with guns drawn only to discover that the desperado had gone out the front and, having just mounted, was making his escape. As the lawman raised his rifle to take aim, his deputy hollered, “Shoot low, Sheriff. He’s ridin’ a Shetland.”

The point? If the sheriff had aimed and shot as he normally would have at a man on a fullsized horse (Shetlands being exceptionally small animals), the bullet would’ve harmlessly whizzed over the outlaw’s head. The deputy made it clear that the sheriff, to be effective, needed to adjust his aim to that particular situation and no other.

This story might apply to situations for pastors and parishioners in small congregations and small towns (like ours). Regardless of how good a shot we may be, we will never hit the target by aiming someplace else. What works in some other place may not work here. What worked here ten years ago may not work today. What works today may not work tomorrow.

Small town leaders need to learn to shoot low or high or wide, aiming after first discovering the location of the target. They also need to discover what sort of ammunition to use and when to shoot.

This illustration hints at such activities as prayer, fellowship, healing, teaching, preaching, counseling - meeting people where they are, being sensitive to their unique situations, almost always in settings distinctive from urban and large ones. The modern world tends to think “big and urban.” We live in a mass society, powerfully homogenizing in scope; but small-town folk often instinctively reject, resist, and even resent all that this implies and requires.

More than once, for example, I have attended conferences featuring some “new and effective” program where I was told that while it was intended for medium sized and large churches, small congregations needed only “cut it down to size.” The truth, I am persuaded, is the opposite. A successful small church program can be enlarged to fit a big parish - not the other way around. A successful small church pastor or lay leader is more likely to make a successful transition to a large parish.

This, I believe, is because the small congregation is the prototype unit of the Body of Christ. So, it has been and is at its best - historically, psychologically, sociologically, and spiritually. When congregations in the early church reached a size preventing heathy intimacy, a new order was developed, so that, for instance, ordained leaders could act on behalf of bishops and other superiors - enabling small churches to again operate effectively. Throughout the church’s history, the village parish functioned as the norm. Some psychological and sociological studies indicate that there is a limit to the size of any group that can experience a spirit of community in anything like the way it flourished in the church in its formative period. Big churches have learned to provide this by means of organizing an overall coalition of small groups. Admittedly, it is advantageous to have specialties in large parishes to provide high-quality music, spiffy Christian education, and the like. Still, I believe, pastoral ministry is such an important key to congregational vitality that we must make it a priority. This is a one-to-one personal process, difficult to do when the clergy ratio reaches a point of diminishing returns – when a pastor - because of sheer pressure of responsibilities and time available versus number of parishioners – must choose administration over pastoral care.

Perhaps large churches are economically more efficient. Small churches certainly cost more per capita to operate, but then again, a small church’s parishioners do, or at least ought to, get more time in ministry from their pastors and lay ministers. The economic burden is often born by their gaining a healthier level of financial stewardship and by greater participation.

Now brothers and sisters, Jesus isn’t riding a great stallion 16-hands high with a silver saddle. I know he isn’t riding a Shetland either, but he is riding the next best thing - a donkey into Jerusalem. And that’s worth considering as we reach out to fellow parishioners, especially in small towns.

Its implication can direct us to several elements to consider in choosing and encouraging church leaders. The following examples might help.

• genuine love for the congregation and acceptance of all members for who and what they are

• desire to become one with the congregation, striving to be a part of who and what they are

• readiness to get involved in the wider community

• a commitment to staying for a significant length of time

• ability to share decisionmaking between clergy and laity • absence of a pre-determined agenda to modernize, change, or straighten out the congregation

• patience to gain the trust of the congregation so members will feel confident about embracing new and good ideas for change

• a personal touch and understanding that effective ministries in a small town come mostly through one-to-one engagement Following these suggestions can well provide a basis for relationships that both witness God’s love and makes possible deep spiritual ministry in a small community.