How I Came to Believe Bigger Was Better in the Church
By Pastor Doug Beutler
When I found myself without a church to take my Campus Life students to, I went to my pastor of the church I was attending at the time. What I didn’t realize was that the church was already beginning the search for a new youth pastor.
The church was a big church, averaging more than 1,000 people on Sunday mornings. It was one of the two largest churches in its denomination in terms of attendance. The senior pastor cared deeply about results, and because his own children and several key leader’s kids were in the youth group, he had a personal interest in seeing the ministry succeed.
Unfortunately, the existing youth ministry had dwindled to about 20 faithful students. The youth pastor simply wasn’t considered “fun” or “relevant” enough for the teenagers of that generation. From the senior pastor’s perspective, the group spent too much time boring the kids and not enough time having a good time.
That’s where I came in.
I knew teenagers. I knew how to get them to show up. Most importantly, I knew how to introduce them to Jesus and lead them to faith in Christ. As I talked with the senior pastor about my vision for youth ministry, I began to realize that he was looking for a quick fix. He wanted someone who could turn things around, attract more students, and build a youth ministry that would make the church proud.
He soon offered me the job.
And I was ready.
At the time, I saw no danger in the arrangement. The church wanted a progressive, growing youth ministry, and I was convinced I could deliver. In fact, the opportunity strengthened a belief that had already begun taking root in me: bigger was better.
Almost immediately, students began showing up. I continued working with my Wayne Campus Life students, and before long, many of them were coming to church with me. The youth group grew from 20 students to 50, then 100 students on a regular basis. Our special outreach events attracted 150 to 200 teenagers.
People were amazed. The church was excited. We had momentum, and it seemed like everything was working exactly as it should.
The growth brought more than attendance. It brought affirmation. Every new student seemed to confirm that we were on the right track. Every successful event reinforced the idea that the ministry was healthy because it was expanding.
There were a few people who voiced concerns along the way, but the ministry was growing so rapidly that their objections were largely drowned out by the excitement. After all, how could anyone argue with success?
We were bringing more students to the district youth conference than any other church. The conference included competitions in sports, music, and drama, and we won everything.
The victories made the story even more compelling. We were not merely growing; we were outperforming everyone else. The numbers were rising, the crowds were coming, and the trophies were piling up.
Everything seemed to confirm what I was beginning to believe: bigger was better, growth was the goal, and the numbers proved we were doing something right.
But success can create its own kind of blindness. When everything appears to be working, it becomes easy to assume that nothing needs to be questioned. I had not yet learned that a ministry can be growing on the outside while serious problems are developing underneath.
That lesson was about to come quickly.
When Success Couldn’t Protect Us
The senior pastor soon became embroiled in a conflict that created tremendous controversy throughout the church. Eventually, he resigned under a cloud of controversy, and his departure triggered a church split. People began leaving, and the congregation started shrinking.
For the first time, the larger church around us was losing momentum. The atmosphere changed. Conversations that had once centered on growth and possibility now focused on conflict, uncertainty, and survival.
The youth group, however, continued to grow averaging 110-150 students on a regular basis. Our special outreach events attracted 300 to 400 teenagers.
In fact, some parents stayed at the church specifically because their children were involved in the youth ministry. Even as the church went through a lengthy interim period and Sunday attendance dropped below 800, our youth ministry kept moving forward.
That continued growth seemed to protect us. It gave people something positive to point to in the middle of the turmoil. As long as teenagers were coming, parents were staying, and the youth ministry was thriving, it was tempting to believe that we could remain untouched by the church’s deeper problems.
But growth could not shield us forever.
Then, finally, the church hired a new senior pastor.
He came from a different denomination, and few people in the congregation really knew him. He seemed to fit the image the church was looking for, but his arrival would prove to be a serious mistake.
At first, I assumed the transition would bring stability. After all, the church needed leadership, and I believed the youth ministry’s success would speak for itself. We had a proven record. We were reaching students. We were doing exactly what the church had asked us to do.
Not long after he arrived, he called me into a meeting.
He told me the youth group had too many students who came from outside the church. He also told me that I had become too powerful within the congregation.
His solution was simple: I was to tell the students whose parents were not part of the church to stop coming and concentrate my efforts on the church’s own teenagers.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
The very students whose presence had once been celebrated were now being treated as a problem. These were students who were coming to church, hearing the gospel, building relationships, and, in many cases, discovering Jesus for the first time. They were exactly the kind of young people a church should have been excited to reach.
And now I was being asked to turn them away?
That didn’t sit well with me. I believed we were doing what the church was supposed to do—reaching people who were outside its walls. I wasn’t willing to abandon that mission simply because the new pastor was threatened.
Before long, I resigned.
My departure shook the church. But it also forced me to make a decision about my own future. I had spent years believing that growth would solve problems and prove the value of a ministry. Now I was leaving the ministry that had grown so dramatically, not because it had failed, but because its success had become part of the conflict.
I still believed that bigger was better, and wherever God led me next, I was determined to prove it. I was convinced that if I worked hard enough, used the right strategies, and did whatever it took, I could build something bigger. I had no idea how much God would challenge that belief in what was coming next.
