Church Planting: Friend or Foe?
A version of this article first appeared in the Summer 2019 edition of Essentials, the magazine of the Australian branch of EFAC (the Evangelical Fellowship in the Anglican Communion).
Claire sat across the table from her friend, the leader of an evangelical Anglican church near the suburb that God had laid on her heart.
After gathering her thoughts, Claire began to speak. She excitedly laid out her vision for a new church that would engage the diverse mix of people moving into the area. She shared how God drew together a team to eagerly pray about this new endeavour with her. To top it all off, she spoke about the affirmation she’d received from another church planter in the same suburb several years before. Although his view of women’s leadership differed from Claire’s, he had greeted her overture with enthusiasm: “Terrific! There are heaps of people in this area who need to be reached for Jesus. I can even think of a few currently involved in our church who would probably get on board with you.”
Claire paused to draw breath and hear from her friend. But rather than shared excitement, it was like a bucket of ice had been dumped on the conversation—and their relationship. What Claire had anticipated as a moment of collegiality around a new mission initiative turned out to be anything but. Instead of joining her in dreaming, Claire’s friend was worrying about losing the families in his own church to hers. He didn’t say it out loud, but she could tell what he was thinking: “Sheep stealer!”
Her heart sank.
Well, it would have if this conversation—and Claire—was real. It’s not. But the emotional trajectory of the conversation is all too real. Announcing the intent to plant a church is greeted with fear and defensiveness as often as it is by joy and excitement. Why?
Many established churches regard church planting as a foe—or at least unwelcome competition in the already-challenging work of fishing for people in shrinking pond. Similarly, church planters can become swept up in the romance and rhetoric around planting and overplay its superiority. This risks underestimating the effectiveness of healthy, already-established churches and their potential to bring about spiritual renewal.
I’m convinced that church plants and established churches can be friends rather than enemies. Both have important contributions to make in any given city—but what does it take to break out of a competitive mindset and see each other as collaborative partners in the work of Christ’s kingdom?
Are We in a Competition?
In order to break out of the counterproductive competitive mindset between church plants and established churches, we first need to understand what fuels it. Most church planters try to avoid being labelled a “sheep stealer,” and church planting agencies like Geneva Push are rightly committed to “evangelising new churches into existence” rather than depending on transfer growth. But the stats tell a messier story. Transfer growth is involved with almost every new church plant in some way—whether in the original core/launch team, or as fringe members of other churches come to check out the new church on the block. And more than one church planter would be able to tell you about missteps they’ve made in recruiting such people—and even thrusting them into leadership—without adequately consulting the leaders of the churches they hail from.
What’s more, church planters, well-intentioned as they often are, sometimes speak and act in ways that undervalue the ministry of established churches. In fact, some church planting looks like the old-school Protestant tendency to divide dressed up in glad rags. Tim Keller calls this “defiant church planting.” His observation about the motivation behind this kind of planting rings true in an uncomfortable number of situations I’m familiar with: “Some people in the church get frustrated and split away and form a new church—because there is alienation over doctrine, or vision, or philosophy of ministry.”
There can be a thin line between someone who feels a burden to reach new people with a church plant and a dissatisfied assistant pastor who feels things aren’t being “done right” and starts a new church in response. Even the most noble church planters acknowledge the possibility of mixed motives—the human heart is mysterious and has depths that can conceal unrecognised ugliness!
The Fruits of Collaboration
The hostility and competition between new and established churches won’t be reduced by treating church plants or established churches as enemies rather than partners in the work of reaching people.
I’m convinced that church plants and established churches can be friends rather than enemies.
There are many benefits of both groups working together. For example, the data about multiplying church movements tells us that a good relationship with a sending church (or better yet, a whole group of churches who partner in sending out a church plant) makes a massive difference to the health and longevity of a new church. This should hardly be surprising. The New Testament authors link Christian unity and partnership with mission effectiveness on more than one occasion—no doubt taking their cue from Jesus, who makes this connection in his “High Priestly Prayer” in John 17.
So, planters beware! Trash-talk established churches at your own risk. Not only do you face the danger of alienating potential mission partners—or, more prosaically, preachers who could step into the pulpit when you need to take a vacation (and you’ll need to take a vacation!). You also risk having to eat your words if your church plant becomes an established church itself.
Equally, those who lead existing churches need to grapple with the fact that church planting is demonstrably good for the established church. There are well-documented benefits of church planting for existing ministries as well as the wider mission in an area.
For instance, the National Church Life Survey in Australia has consistently found that newer churches (up to ten years old) have a higher-than-average proportion of “newcomers,” or people with no active connection to a church in the previous five years. According to 2016’s survey, the nationwide average of newcomers in a church is 6%. A 2015 study in the Diocese of Sydney suggests that number jumps to 13% in newer churches, although the study notes that these numbers vary depending on the model of church planting adopted.
Of course, simply starting a new church isn’t an ironclad guarantee of a solid count of newcomers, let alone one of fruitful evangelism. A significant study by LifeWay indicates that evangelistic activities—even “old-fashioned” ones like door-knocking—strongly correlate with effectively engaging the unchurched. In other words, you’ve got to do something to reach your community.
Established and newer churches are on a largely level playing field here—with the odds possibly even in favour of established churches if they are healthy and well-resourced. Mobilising for evangelism is a crucial task. It is a matter of both faithful discipleship and fruitfulness in mission, whether we’re in a new or an established church.
In this vein, there’s a strong case to be made that church plants contribute to the health and vitality of all the churches in an area.
On one hand, the lessons new churches learn in reaching and discipling people often find their way back to more established churches. Perhaps it’s the community-service strategy they stumble into as they scramble to secure a community grant or qualify to rent their preferred venue—without quite realising it, the new church’s credibility in the local community goes through the roof. Or maybe it’s the excellent kids program they run because they happen to have some gifted children’s ministry leaders in their launch team—families with young kids love it because they’re desperate for ways to break up their seemingly-endless weekend. Or maybe it’s the carefully-tracked social media campaign and letterbox drop ahead of the launch service—an attempt to learn what sort of contact is most effective that can inform the strategies of established churches in the area. In all these ways and more, church plants can function as missional R&D departments.
This mirrors what leaders in the business world have observed about the transferability of lessons learned in a startup context. A recent Harvard Business Review report argues that the agility, learning stance, and growth mindset that startups need for survival can benefit every type of business—especially given the rapid pace of change companies are facing. In my view, little is different in the church. The incredibly rapid changes in the church’s position in culture prove disastrous if we fail to adapt, or adapt poorly.
On the other hand, churches that actively partner with new church plants frequently report significant benefits—even amid the pain of giving away people and resources. Whether it’s by becoming a “parent” church, sending out a new church plant, or some other kind of partnership, it hurts to let go of core, motivated leaders (or potential leaders). Things never feel the same in an established church after it sends people off. But the space it creates can allow new leadership to emerge, new things to be tried, and new connections to be forged. The new opportunities created by releasing people can be meaningful—and are never wasted in God’s economy.
The Harvest is Plentiful!
In conclusion, may I humbly suggest that those on both sides of the church planting/existing ministry divide would find it worthwhile to meditate on the words of Nathan Campbell:
The reason it’s scary to hear about a schmick new church plant led by cool people with great ideas is because we’re (and by we I mean me) often insecure about what we bring to the table, and to our city… focusing on the size of the mission field and trying to reach lost people, rather than the limited pool of human resources around, is the best way to get a bit of perspective about this insecurity.
All of us need to cultivate a bigger vision for mission to overcome our sense of competitiveness and insecurity, whether it’s about the prospect of a new church in our area or the existing churches that don’t share our enthusiasm for what we’re starting (reality check: no one has as much enthusiasm for it as you do).
Many of us enthusiastically preach on Jesus’s instruction to ask the Lord of the harvest to raise up workers. But if we’re honest, we probably prefer to see them raised up within our ministry, where (as God knows!) the need is real and the resources always feel scarce.
Nevertheless, the Father who sends his Son in the power of the Spirit for the sake of the world is not threatened by scarcity. Indeed, Jesus endured the ultimate scarcity and deprivation, crying out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” on our behalf. The perfectly rich and free Lord of creation became poor and subject to death in order to bear the deprivation we are due for turning from our Creator.
And it is only to the degree that this fills our hearts that we’ll be able to lift our eyes from our apparent scarcity and see each other as collaborators rather than competitors.
About the Author
Chris Swann is the Director of Training for City to City Australia. He loves helping church planters and other leaders grow in their personal appropriation of Christ's grace and their capacity to administer it to others. He is also an adjunct lecturer in ministry, evangelism, and church planting at various Australian seminaries and Bible colleges. He loves living in Melbourne with his wife and their two kids.