I’m glad that I don’t live in a one-church town. For many, many reasons:
What if the pastor was incompetent? (It happens.)
What if they believed the prosperity gospel?
What if they only sang songs from Hillsong United albums?
What if the congregants fell down during worship all the time? (You were slain in the spirit, were you? Does that mean that God killed you?)
What if they used the NIV Bible in their services?
Worse yet, the King James Bible?
How would I be able to hold onto my grudges?
Would they be into social justice?
How could I show my face there if everyone knew all my issues?
I could ask a thousand more of these…
Variety is the spice of life, in everything except spouses. You should try stick with just one of those, maybe less. I realize there’s the argument about there truly being one Church out there, but we’ve created variety expressions of it. That said, in most cases there are palpable differences between congregations.
I couldn’t imagine living Little House on the Prairie style and having just one option for a place to worship. I’d have to build a chapel behind my home and do my own thing there, like any real American would.
Of course, I jest.
But there’s something truly terrifying about small towns with just one or two churches, one being the standard non-denominational Bible church with the other being either Baptist or Nazarene. I have to admit that I hold a significant bias against small towns, which likely impacts how I think about small-town churches.
I wonder, is there some merit to a lack of options? Is forcing people to worship together by necessity a way for us to get over all of our little hangups? I’m dubious, but theoretically, it seems as if there could be something there.
Such a great question! I’m guessing it’s rare in this day that even small towns have 1-2 churches. The town I grew up in, population was around 3,000, had 30+ churches with most denominations having 2-3 churches all with tiny congregations. Personal worship preferences and church politics have caused vicious, ridiculous church splits that have made most of the community not wanting anything to do with church-including my family that still lives there.
Thankfully, my parents have found a true community church in the Alaskan bush town they live in during the summers. It’s been 30+ years since they’ve attended church, but have found themselves deeply involved in this small church. My dad, having grown up in a fundamentalist charismatic church and wanting nothing to do with any church since, has even gotten involved in the men’s bible study (shocker)!
This church is a reflection of the town-population 400. The Alaskan bush inevitably draws the most eccentric characters. It’s the only non-denominational option, along with a small Catholic church and a mormon church. You throw quirky personalities, vastly different religious upbringings, limited resources, and the rugged Alaskan mentality into a community of people stumbling towards Jesus and it somehow turns out beautiful.
There’s definitely something to be said about not having other options. This town is landlocked, so if you wanted to go to church in a different town, you’d have to fly in a tiny plane or take a ferry-for hours. I guess in this situation you learn, not only to tolerate people’s different worship preferences and religious upbringings, but to appreciate them. Their eccentricity turns from annoying to amusing.
Maybe it’s because in a place like Alaska, the grandeur of creation is a constant reminder of the smallness of humanity. And even smaller still our petty differences and preferences. It really is a fascinating place-we might have to take you there sometime. Then you might change your mind about small towns.
Holy answer that’s longer than the post itself! Small towns scare me. I mean it. First, so many horror movies take place in small towns. Coincidence? I think not. Second, EVERYBODY KNOWS YOU. Which could be good or bad. I’d say mostly good for the extroverts but potentially horrific for any introverts out there. And yeah, even though I was going for satire, the lack of choice in ANYTHING in a small town scares me. My Arco family is an exception because they’re all super mormon. Otherwise, I think there’s only a baptist church there, maybe a Catholic one now that I think about it……. I’d have to be Catholic 😉
Props to your parents. I couldn’t do it.
Miss you and Mike, my friend!
My small town of 9000 people boasts 18 churches, so I’m not sure I’m an expert at answering this question, but I’ve seen the very thing you’re describing in Czech – where a city of 70,000 people may be lucky to have a single church.
Sometimes I think the plethora of options hurts us as followers of Christ, rather than helps us. Instead of working through issues with people, building true community and being vulnerable, we just hop to the next congregation and hope it’s better. We’re consumers – wanting to find a church at best fits us (I’m writing in generalities, but I believe it holds up, at least here in the USA). Having only one church requires a real commitment to the church and to each other – and hinders the hopping around we see so much in today’s culture.
That being said, I’m glad we have choices – because there are some churches even in my town, that would be very difficult to grow in.