The Blog
How God Grew My Church Exponentially Smaller
How I Learned to Chase Bigger
Pastor Doug Beutler
When I began full-time ministry in 1982, I had one simple desire: I wanted teenagers to know Jesus.
I joined Youth for Christ (YFC) as the Campus Life Director in Van Wert, Ohio. Our staff was small - an executive director, a secretary, and me. I was young, energetic, competitive, and convinced I could help change the world.
What I didn't realize was that those early years would also teach me how to measure ministry success.
And the lesson I absorbed was simple:
Bigger was better.
Learning the Game of More
The following summer, I attended YFC's three-week training camp. It was an intense experience filled with training in evangelism, Campus Life philosophy, and the history of Youth for Christ.
I learned a lot of valuable things.
But I also began learning what I call the game of more.
If we wanted to influence a school, we needed to reach influential students. We would do "run-throughs" during lunch periods at local high schools, trying to meet students and build relationships.
But we especially wanted to meet the "right" students.
The athletes.
The cheerleaders.
The popular kids.
The students who could attract other students.
The formula was pretty simple:
Meet more students.
Invite more students.
Create better programs.
Attract bigger crowds.
And it worked.
Soon, nearly 100 teenagers were packed into basement meeting rooms every week. We organized trips to Great America, Florida, and countless other events. Students loved it. They invited their friends, and the ministry grew.
I even noticed teenagers leaving their church youth groups because Campus Life seemed more exciting.
At the time, I considered that a win.
The better the program, the bigger the crowd.
The bigger the crowd, the greater the recognition.
The greater the recognition, the more opportunities opened up.
Without realizing it, I was learning to play the game of more.
I loved Jesus. I genuinely cared about teenagers. I wanted them to know Christ.
But another desire was quietly growing alongside those good desires.
I wanted to be successful.
And I was learning to measure success with numbers.
Reaching the Top
My success eventually took me from Van Wert to Elkhart County Youth for Christ and finally to Fort Wayne Area Youth for Christ.
Fort Wayne YFC was considered one of the premier Youth for Christ ministries in the country. Many of the leaders I admired served there.
For me, it felt like reaching the top.
It was also competitive.
Who could reach the most students?
Who could run the biggest club?
Who could create the most exciting program?
Who had the next great idea?
Shortly after arriving, I was assigned to launch a Campus Life Club at Wayne High School.
We kicked off the year with a "Burger Bash."
More than 100 students showed up.
Within the next few months, seven students trusted Christ as their Savior.
I was thrilled.
My club was growing.
Students were coming to Christ.
People were noticing.
Everything seemed to confirm what I already believed:
Bigger meant successful.
Then something happened that I wasn't expecting.
"We Don't Want Those Kids"
I began visiting churches throughout the Wayne High School district. These seven teenagers had trusted Christ, and I wanted to connect them with local churches where they could grow in their new faith.
It seemed like the obvious next step.
Instead, some of the responses broke my heart.
"We don't want those kinds of kids."
"They wouldn't understand what we're studying."
"We're really not equipped for students like that."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
We had worked hard to reach teenagers who didn't know Jesus. They had responded to the gospel. Now they needed a church family where they could belong and learn what it meant to follow Christ.
But the doors weren't opening.
I didn't realize it then, but God was planting a question in my heart that would become incredibly important years later:
What good is gathering a crowd if we aren't prepared to help people become disciple-makers?
How God Grew My Church Exponentially Smaller
The Oxymoron of Growing Smaller
By Pastor Doug Beutler
I’ve been a Chicago Cubs fan for as long as I can remember. It’s practically in my DNA—my dad was a Cubs fan, and his dad before him. Being a Cubs fan wasn’t just something we did; it was part of who we were.
For 108 years, Cubs fans lived with a running joke—the ultimate oxymoron: the words winning and Chicago Cubs in the same sentence. Every season started with hope and usually ended in disappointment.
Then came 2016.
Sure, it happened a year later than Back to the Future Part II predicted, but it finally happened. The Cubs won the World Series. Just like that, one of baseball’s greatest oxymorons disappeared. The Chicago Cubs were champions.
But for much of my life, I carried around a different kind of oxymoron—one that I didn’t just hear, but actually believed…Growing Smaller.
At first glance, it doesn’t make sense. Growth means getting bigger, right? Bigger means getting better. Success is measured by more—more people, more resources, more influence. Whether in business or ministry, the goal always seemed to be the same - expansion.
That’s how our world defines success.
For twelve years, I served as the Chief Operating Officer of a nonprofit that grew from a $3 million organization to a $15 million one. By every measurable standard, we were thriving.
But were we really?
As we grew, cracks began to show. Systems that once worked started to fail. Staff became overwhelmed and burned out. Communication suffered. Relationships grew strained. The momentum that once masked our weaknesses now exposed them.
That experience forced me to ask a question I had rarely considered before:
Is bigger always better?
I started noticing what I now call “Our growth obsession”. It’s everywhere—in business, in leadership culture, and even in the church.
Especially in the church.
Over the years, whether I was serving with Youth for Christ, working as a youth pastor, or planting a church, I realized how much my training revolved around numbers. We wanted to attract the right crowd, hit critical mass, create exciting programs, and pack as many people as possible into whatever space we had.
More people meant more success.
Or so I thought.
Then something unexpected happened.
God began whispering something in my heart.
At first, I didn’t understand it.
Honestly, I didn’t even like it.
Again and again, I sensed Him saying:
“I want you to grow smaller.”
Grow smaller?
It didn’t make sense. Small didn’t feel like growth. It felt like settling. Like making excuses. Like failure.
The other day, I was sharing with a close friend—a successful businessman—about what God was doing in our small church. After listening for a while, he looked at me, puzzled.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “How can you feel successful leading such a small church?”
He didn’t say it outright, but I could tell what he was thinking: Isn’t this a waste of your potential?
He wasn’t trying to be rude. He was just seeing things through the same lens most of us use. Bigger churches equal greater success. Smaller churches must mean something is failing.
From his perspective, what I was describing sounded like another oxymoron.
Growing smaller.
What he didn’t fully understand is that God measures success very differently than we do.
God has been reshaping my understanding of ministry, leadership, and what it really means to succeed. I am seeing that the Kingdom of God doesn’t always expand by getting bigger. Sometimes it grows by going deeper. Sometimes multiplication looks nothing like accumulating large numbers.
And sometimes, the healthiest thing a church can do is grow smaller. We still struggle with that concept today just like my friend did but that doesn't meant it's not true.
This blog is about my journey—how God challenged my assumptions and why I now believe one of the greatest opportunities for the church today is to embrace what once sounded impossible:
Growing Smaller.
The Oxymoron of Growing Smaller
By Pastor Doug Beutler
I’ve been a Chicago Cubs fan for as long as I can remember. It’s practically in my DNA—my dad was a Cubs fan, and his dad before him. Being a Cubs fan wasn’t just something we did; it was part of who we were.
For 108 years, Cubs fans lived with a running joke—the ultimate oxymoron: the words winning and Chicago Cubs in the same sentence. Every season started with hope and usually ended in disappointment.
Then came 2016.
Sure, it happened a year later than Back to the Future Part II predicted, but it finally happened. The Cubs won the World Series. Just like that, one of baseball’s greatest oxymorons disappeared. The Chicago Cubs were champions.
But for much of my life, I carried around a different kind of oxymoron—one that I didn’t just hear, but actually believed…Growing Smaller.
At first glance, it doesn’t make sense. Growth means getting bigger, right? Bigger means getting better. Success is measured by more—more people, more resources, more influence. Whether in business or ministry, the goal always seemed to be the same - expansion.
That’s how our world defines success.
For twelve years, I served as the Chief Operating Officer of a nonprofit that grew from a $3 million organization to a $15 million one. By every measurable standard, we were thriving.
But were we really?
As we grew, cracks began to show. Systems that once worked started to fail. Staff became overwhelmed and burned out. Communication suffered. Relationships grew strained. The momentum that once masked our weaknesses now exposed them.
That experience forced me to ask a question I had rarely considered before:
Is bigger always better?
I started noticing what I now call “Our growth obsession”. It’s everywhere—in business, in leadership culture, and even in the church.
Especially in the church.
Over the years, whether I was serving with Youth for Christ, working as a youth pastor, or planting a church, I realized how much my training revolved around numbers. We wanted to attract the right crowd, hit critical mass, create exciting programs, and pack as many people as possible into whatever space we had.
More people meant more success.
Or so I thought.
Then something unexpected happened.
God began whispering something in my heart.
At first, I didn’t understand it.
Honestly, I didn’t even like it.
Again and again, I sensed Him saying:
“I want you to grow smaller.”
Grow smaller?
Grow smaller?
It didn’t make sense. Small didn’t feel like growth. It felt like settling. Like making excuses. Like failure.
The other day, I was sharing with a close friend—a successful businessman—about what God was doing in our small church. After listening for a while, he looked at me, puzzled.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “How can you feel successful leading such a small church?”
He didn’t say it outright, but I could tell what he was thinking: Isn’t this a waste of your potential?
He wasn’t trying to be rude. He was just seeing things through the same lens most of us use. Bigger churches equal greater success. Smaller churches must mean something is failing.
From his perspective, what I was describing sounded like another oxymoron.
Growing smaller.
What he didn’t fully understand is that God measures success very differently than we do.
God has been reshaping my understanding of ministry, leadership, and what it really means to succeed. I am seeing that the Kingdom of God doesn’t always expand by getting bigger. Sometimes it grows by going deeper. Sometimes multiplication looks nothing like accumulating large numbers.
And sometimes, the healthiest thing a church can do is grow smaller. We still struggle with that concept today just like my friend did but that doesn't meant it's not true.
This blog is about my journey—how God challenged my assumptions and why I now believe one of the greatest opportunities for the church today is to embrace what once sounded impossible:
Growing Smaller.
