Can Your Church Be the Church That Doesn’t Hurt People?
Bob Hyatt
April 8, 2019

Like many, I came to church planting through the route of dissatisfaction and hurt . The angry young man. I grew tired of asking the same questions, banging my head against the same walls- tired of feeling hurt by the system and tired of seeing people I loved leave because they had been hurt.

So, when we planted a church in Portland, OR in 2004- I and the others I planted alongside of secretly, inwardly, held the idea- even if we outwardly disavowed it-  that we were going to be the church that got things right.

It’s not so much we thought we were better or somehow the pinnacle of ecclesiastical evolution- it was simply that we thought we could learn from the mistakes of the churches we had come from and just do it differently.

It seemed so easy.

We were going to be organic, non-programmatic, we would listen, learn, love… and though we took careful pains to warn people as they came into our community that community hurts, we believed: we would be the church that would never hurt people.

[bctt tweet=”Though we took careful pains to warn people as they came into our community that community hurts, we believed: we would be the church that would never hurt people.” username=”ecclesianet”]

Of course, we were completely wrong.

I first started getting an inkling of this when I noticed that though we saw many people coming into church and coming to Christ or coming BACK to Church or back to Christ through our community, we saw just as many for whom we were the last stop on the way out. They had grown up in the evangelical church, many were even pastor’s kids, and they would come to our community as this last ditch effort. We met in a pub, were not happy clappy, were not trying to be slick or production-oriented- for a lot of them, we were something still Christian that they thought maybe they could stomach. We even had some explicitly tell us “This is my last try- if this doesn’t work, I’m out.” I mean, no pressure , right?

And time and time again, though we saw many stick and find what they were looking for, we saw just as many turn around and walk out the door again, some with real anger towards us, or towards me. And in trying to pin down why this would happen, we’ve never come to any real conclusions, other than that some people are just going to be hurt, no matter what you do- their issues with God and with church are going to bubble up. Which church in inconsequential- it could be any. And quite often, it’s going to be yours.

But it hasn’t always been simply that some people were setting themselves up to be hurt- sometimes it was us- our choices, our actions. In dealing with people, with couples or individuals or even staff members, we made choices with the best of intentions that ended up alienating people, confirming their worst fears about church… hurting them.

It wasn’t what we intended, we meant well, but we stepped wrong and someone else ended up getting blown out the doors.

There have even been times when we knew- we knew- going into a situation-  there’s potential here for great hurt, and we as elders would circle up and discuss- how can we do this with the minimum amount of pain? How can we do this right ? Only to have it blow up in our faces, to have our decisions and choices hurt people we loved very much.

My darkest moment in church planting was coming to the realization that no matter what I did, I was going to contribute to the hurt, the brokenness and pain that people had around church. I just was. We just were.

[bctt tweet=”My darkest moment in church planting was coming to the realization that no matter what I did, I was going to contribute to the hurt, the brokenness and pain that people had around church.” username=”ecclesianet”]

We always wanted to be a part of people’s faith stories. It’s just that we wanted to be a part of the good bits- the place where people came to Jesus- not the place where they rejected Him. The place where people found community and had their faith in followers of Jesus restored- not the place that got to drive the final nail in the coffin.

And after instance after instance of seeing people leave- angry, hurt- of trying SO HARD to bring the least amount of pain to people through some really hard situations and instead finding ourselves somehow, inexplicably bringing the maximum amount, I came to the hard but good realization, that we don’t get to pick which part of people’s stories we get to play . Yes- we get to pick whether or not we will act in love, with kindness, like Jesus to the best of our ability- I get that. But I’m telling you- there are times when I have felt and when you will feel as though we were in a tragic opera- that God was using us in someone else’s life and what He happened to need at the moment was not a soft place for them to land but a hammer and a chisel. God was going to use us to get some people where HE needed them- to a place of discomfort or even crisis. There have been times when I cried out to God- really? Really ? We’re trying so hard with this person and still- it seems like all we can do is screw it up further- that everything we do just seems to make it worse. REALLY ?

And if that’s all there was to this thing, I think I probably would have packed it in a long time ago…

The good news is, though there were a lot of dark moments, a lot of times when I wondered if we were going to “make it”, if what we were doing was even worth the effort it took to “make it,” there were a lot of bright moments as well- mostly centered around the times when we stopped trying to build the Church, and just rested in the joy of being the church.

As I think back to those moments of gathering down at the river or creek to baptize people, of dancing for hours after marrying two people who met and fell in love in our community, of sitting with people and untangling some of the knots that they had encountered in life or faith, even of walking with some couples through some really deep water and seeing marriages actually make it, I’m glad that God allowed me to even take part in this thing. Because though we often unintentionally hurt people, though we mess up, though God uses us in hard ways at times, He also is kind enough to let us share in the up times as well. The putting back together of what is broken and the healing of what was hurt.

And I’ve been able to see that best and brightest in seeing how the Gospel actually works in community. How rather than sitting as a lifeless proposition on a page, the Gospel is actually the tool the Holy Spirit uses most as He brings us not just to a saving place of faith in Jesus, but to maturity and Christ-likeness.

I have loved sitting with people who are describing to me their struggles with workaholism, or anger, or money, and realizing- Oh- the real issue here isn’t money, or work or whatever- the real issue is what you are asking it to do for you. To somehow save you, give you hope, give you worth. Let me tell you about Jesus .

I’ve loved sitting with couples in crisis- well, I haven’t loved that part, but I’ve loved being able to tell them- I know, I know the hurt seems overwhelming and forgiveness seems like an impossibility right now, but I want you to think hard, to remember, to meditate on what Jesus has done for you- how and how much He’s forgiven you, and see if that doesn’t open up new possibilities for you here.

And most of all, I have loved realizing that even for me, at my darkest moments as a pastor and in church planting, the Gospel has something to say. Those moments laying awake in bed at 2:30am on Sunday night after preaching- when attendance was low, and giving non-existent and I’m feeling like: “After that sermon it will be a miracle if anyone comes back next week.” And realizing- that in getting so tied up in the metrics, in resting so much of the weight of my soul and my identity on results, on what happened, on how I was perceived and received, I was asking those things to do for me what only Jesus could- to tell me I was worth something, make me whole, save me .

The Good News is that my church and their attendance, their applause, their approval are not my savior. Jesus is .

[bctt tweet=”The Good News is that my church and their attendance, their applause, their approval are not my savior. Jesus is.” username=”ecclesianet”]

And so my brightest moment of all in church planting was realizing that the Gospel- this good news about Jesus and His kingdom isn’t just a truth we learn at the beginning of our spiritual journey… the Good News is the transformative engine of change in the world, not just for Non-Christians, but for Christians and even for pastors. Our communities and we ourselves will never outgrow needing to hear it, and so we’ll never get past needing to preach it to them, to others… to ourselves.

In church planting, and in pastoring in this broken world hurt is inevitable- both to yourself and to those you are serving and reaching. Thank God we have in the Gospel the answer to the brokenness and hurt we inevitably experience and even in our best intentions bring to other people. Thank God for Jesus.

Focusing the Gospel Around the Table is Still Important Today

November 26, 2024
“Food is just fuel for your body.” When the raw vegan enthusiast in my community said it I knew that wasn’t right. I thought of all the great meals shared with family and friends around tables for Thanksgivings, Christmas Eves, and Easter afternoons – among others. I recalled the verse: “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” And I realized that if this was God’s vision for food, then he would have designed our bodies with built-in IV ports where we would hook up pouches of food to our sides and let it drip in slowly to our bloodstreams. And Jesus wouldn’t have given us the greatest experiential metaphor of communion around the table in fellowship with others if it was merely physical and transactional in nature. I get his point: what we put into our bodies matters. Food is for much more than just physical energy. It’s also about connection, bonding, and relationship. Storytelling and laughing and crying and interacting. Like former U.S. President Ronald Reagan said, all great change in America begins at the dinner table. But I’ll offer a rejoinder: all great change – no matter the country – begins at the dinner table. The U.S. Surgeon General, Dr. Vivek Murthy, has declared loneliness as a public health crisis and an epidemic . 30 percent of adults say they feel lonely., with 10 percent reporting loneliness every day. 60 years ago the average dinner time was 90 minutes; today it’s less than 12. We are more connected to our devices and less connected to others. Almost twenty five years ago political scientist Robert Putnam wrote the popular book Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community . Over the summer, the New York Times interviewed him , inquiring if he saw this crisis of loneliness coming. He stressed the idea of “social capital,” saying it comes in two forms: bonding and bridging. Bonding ties us to others like us and bridging ties us to people who are different from us. Meals together with others at tables have the transformative power to do both. They bond us to other people in our church; they bridge us to connect with others who aren’t yet connected to faith. As my next-door neighbor says when we’re trying to find a time to connect for a meal, “Everybody’s gotta eat.” Coffee tables, lunch tables, high top bar tables, card tables, dinner tables – all have the intent to bring us together with others over food and/or drink. It was Len Sweet who wrote in Tablet to Table that Jesus was killed for his table manner and his table company. Later he stated that the gospel message was Jesus eating good food with bad people. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to find any gathering in the New Testament that didn’t involve some sort of table. And as Ian Simkins, lead pastor of teaching at The Bridge Church in Nashville, shared with me, the table is the centerpiece by which the gospel is expressed. The church has moved to prioritize the table by asking some key questions: What if we reclaimed the table? What if our tables weren’t for just feeding, but for forming? What if, at the table, foes became friends? What if, every time we sat down, we prayed, “at this table as it is in heaven”? What if we brought the gospel back to the table? These are the questions that must become front and center for the church in North America in the days ahead. In fact, you can view the church’s creative and compelling videos on Instagram here and here . Americans eat, on average, 21 meals a week. Think for a moment: how many meals did you share with others this week? How many meals did you eat alone this week? How many people did you share with those who weren’t your immediate family members? How many of those were with people who are not followers of Jesus? What if the greatest advancement of the gospel in the days ahead occurred not in our churches, but around tables?

6 Reasons Why I Love Attending the Ecclesia National Gathering

By by J.R. Briggs • September 25, 2024
I’ve been attending the ENG since 2008. It’s been convened in Maryland, Delaware, Florida, and Virginia – and even online during the pandemic. Pastors have asked me why I make ENG a priority and what I find so valuable. Here are 6 reasons why I never want to miss: [1] It’s Different from Other Church Leaders’ Events There are many great pastors’ events, but what initially drew me to the ENG was the feel of it. What I found so refreshing and valuable was the fact that it felt more like a family reunion than a conference or event. It’s not performative. Nobody is trying to impress one another or sell their next book coming out. Nobody is trying to measure their worth based on the size of their church or the reach of their ministry. There are no green rooms or fog machines. Nobody is treated as a celebrity. And most refreshingly, never once in all the years have I been asked, “So, how big is your church?” It’s a place where I can always be myself. [2] It’s Just the Right Size Many gatherings and conferences are large. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course. Years ago I attended these large conferences put on by very well-known churches – and I gleaned some important insights and nuggets of wisdom, for which I am grateful. But in a post-pandemic digital age, most of those conferences offer a digital package where I can watch conveniently in my office or home when I want to. I’ve gleaned a lot from our ENG speakers, where I’ve taken copious notes. Most years, what I’ve gleaned most was off of the stage and during the informal spaces of connection and interaction. The Ecclesia National Gathering is large enough to pull together pastors and their teams for meaningful content, yet small enough to cultivate deep connections naturally among other attendees. [3] Reconnecting with Old Friends and Meeting New Ones Since I’ve been attending for so many years, and other pastors have as well, it becomes a great space to reconnect with friends. Hugs and high-fives and asking about each other’s families is common throughout the time. There are lengthy times at night over drinks, talking about how we’re doing, what we’re learning, and where we’re seeing God at work in our contexts. It’s a place where I feel extremely comfortable to share the joys and also the heartaches with other pastors, leaders, and friends. But this isn’t just for the insiders. I love seeing new pastors and leaders attending and introducing them to others. Through the years, many newcomers have told me how surprised they’ve been at how welcoming the event has felt, where they could easily and naturally jump in and connect with others without feeling the need to sound impressive – where they could just be themselves. [4] Engaging in Unique Conversations Pastor Mark Batterson has said, “Change of pace plus change of place equals change of perspective.” Large conferences can be beneficial and online events have added value to my life, leadership, and ministry. But nothing can replace the lingering conversations with a mixture of folks, oftentimes over a drink at night, where we end up discussing and exploring topics that are life-giving, enlightening, and informative. Many of these have changed my perspective, reminded me of what’s most important, and sparked new ideas and creative initiatives we’ve launched. But most significantly, during these spaces I am reminded of what’s most important – stories of life change, the power of the gospel, and the depth of meaningful relationships in ministry. And I realize that as great as email, social media, and even Zoom can be to connect me digitally with people across the miles, nothing can replace this life-giving interaction at these events. [5] The Schedule Is Balanced and “Breathable” Many conferences I have attended in the past pack the schedule from morning until night with great content and programming. But I have often left those events with my body and soul feeling exhausted and my brain like a bowl of oatmeal. What I appreciate about ENG is that the programming and schedule has “breathing room.” There’s not wasted time, but it operates at a pace and capacity that is doable for busy and tired pastors and leaders. [6] There are Surprises from the Spirit Every Time As great as the programming is – both the plenary sessions and breakouts – there are still things that are unplanned – and oftentimes they are the most meaningful. Because the schedule isn’t packed from early in the morning to late at night, the Spirit always moves. Because it’s breathable the Spirit often blows. Sometimes the Spirit shows up by way of a soft and gentle reminder from a speaker. Other times, it is a clear word from the Lord during worship. And still other times it is in the form of a much-needed word of encouragement from a friend during conversation who was prompted to share something with me or pray something over me. The ENG isn’t just another pastors’ event – it’s where leaders connect, learn, and have space to be refreshed and be themselves in an authentic and meaningful space. If you haven’t attended yet, come and experience it for yourself.
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