Is church planting even worth it? This question often races through my mind when I lay my head down at night. At the risk of being too honest, the raw truth of the church planting battles I face is full of pain and discouragement.
I know the “theological” answers about how I shouldn’t feel this way—just cast all my burdens on Jesus. That I should take the words of a promising future to Israel in Jeremiah 29:11 out of context and repeat them to myself to boost my morale. But at this moment, the lament of Psalm 13 feels more applicable.
Of all the incredibly difficult and painful things I have done in life, nothing has been harder than the light yoke and easy burden of serving the bride of Christ. When I talk to other pastors who are willing to risk being vulnerable, they share the same pain hidden behind their masks. The closest thing to rose-colored glasses are the lenses flowing streams of blood. And generally, I am not sure where it is coming from, but it is there. And I hear a voice whisper, “Is it even worth it?”
And when you throw in the added strain of church planting in a high crime neighborhood on top of all the normal “church things,” it sucks. You bleed in the trenches. You have waves—scratch that, tsunamis—of loneliness. You never know if this will be the month the funds run out and the doors close. You struggle to find enough people who are willing and able to help carry the load when they realize the level of pain that accompanies the joy.
While Jesus has always come through in his timing and way, it is never fun to be standing on the shore of the Sea of Reeds with death as a real option if YHWH doesn’t do a miracle. And God has done countless miracles in our church. But the experience is not fun in the moment. Only when I look back on the pain can I marvel at the beauty. But in the moment, all I can think is, “Is this even worth it?”
Imagine putting in countless hours that are never enough for those who “encourage” you to do more for them. (Those voices include leadership from outside our church). Imagine pouring your heart and soul into people while seeing little fruit, if there is any fruit at all. Feeling obligated to put on a shiny face for those around you because they are fighting even harder battles, and they need your strength.
Spending countless hours discipling someone just to have them back in the clutches of meth. Explaining to my daughters why I missed our family dinner again because a devastated mom unexpectedly stopped by the church, looking for hope. Her son is heading to prison for life for murdering another guy as they fought over a girl. And by the way, the family of the man who was killed also stopped by the church a couple of hours earlier to see me for the same reason.
My phone chimes, and I’m afraid to open text messages because I don’t know whose name I will see that died from gang violence, suicide or overdose. When we first started our church plant, I lost track of how many homicides were within a few blocks of our front doors. And while it feels like people are dying faster than I can give them an introduction to the Author of Life, all that runs through my mind is, “Is it even worth it?”
A neighborhood apartment manager told me, “Your God may be fast, but he is not faster than a bullet.” She couldn’t understand why I felt compelled to walk the streets at night praying that the trafficking would stop and people would meet Jesus. I know she was legitimately concerned for my safety, but how are the drug dealers going to meet Jesus if I don’t go introduce myself to them where they are? They aren’t coming to us.
So, a few warriors in our church joined me as I turned on my Apple watch “Fall Detection,” and we took nothing but IDs, flashlights and the Holy Spirit. We walked, we prayed and we sang praises to God while on the drug trails. But deep inside I struggle, wondering if it’s worth it.
Yes, Jesus is setting captives free. People are coming to faith and being baptized. But it is such a slow, painful and messy journey that people with good intentions who lack understanding of our context question why things aren’t going faster. I wonder about this too. What is taking so long?
I will be the first to admit it feels like forever. The amount of effort and resources going into the mission aren’t hitting the “normal metrics”—whatever those are. (Probably something with buildings, budget and bodies). We might not be on track with these, but I do see love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faith, gentleness and self-control taking root. How do we measure these?
We see a 1-year-old kid who is now off the streets and able to spend the night in a home with his mom because we are walking with this woman in her discipleship journey as she turns to Jesus and comes clean from meth. And I start to ponder, “Maybe… it is worth it?”
The only reason I get up and walk into what feels like a massacre day after day is because I am confident Jesus has laid out this path of the cross before me. I am not a church planter because it is a path filled with rainbows raining Skittles. Maybe someday my journey will have that, but it is not like that currently.
This path is hard and painful and many days I don’t like that Jesus has called me to it. Believe me, I have tried getting out of it several times and Jesus sends some form of a “great fish” to make sure I get back on the path laid before me. There are glimpses of hope at times, but during the battle it still sucks. However, as I see captives become free in Jesus, he slowly opens my eyes to realize it is worth it.
So, every morning I ask the Holy Spirit for strength and direction for just one more day. I ask Jesus to provide the daily resources for just one more day. I am eternally thankful for those who step into battle with me for the sake of the King as we storm the gates of hell. I am confident we are following our commander into a battle that he cares about far more than we do.
I encourage us to lock our eyes on the Author and Finisher of our faith and to block out all the snares so rampant in the church world that can so easily distract us. We do this in confidence because all power and authority belong to our Master and his command to go and make disciples is not optional.
And so, we pledge our allegiance to the King as we flood the battlefield while inviting others to join us through prayer and physical and financial support because it is totally worth it.
Jon and Michele Fiester are planting Renewal MB Church in Rapid City, South Dakota. The core team for Renewal started meeting in January 2018. More info at www.renewalmb.church
