By Doug Parks
Even for the small church, numbers are intoxicating.
In a small rural congregation, the absence of just a few households from Sunday worship is keenly felt. And on a week when all the regulars and several visitors show up, the enthusiasm and energy in the room is palpable.
We like big numbers. They make us feel effective and successful. And that’s not entirely unreasonable. The commission of the church, after all, is to grow the Kingdom of God by making disciples. It is natural, then, that we concern ourselves with quantity. More people means more disciples, right?
When Jesus fed the five thousand, his followers must have felt euphoric. They were, after all, part of a relatively small ministry, and this crowd, as Matthew’s Gospel makes clear, numbered five thousand men, not counting women and children. These big crowd moments that punctuate the ministry of Jesus had to be awe-inspiring for the twelve. When Jesus not only taught the crowd but also miraculously fed them, those many thousands of people should have become the world’s first ever megachurch.
For you and me, it would be as if, on some random Sunday morning, thousands of people arrived at our small church worship assembly, anxious to hear us repeat the words of Jesus. As we would pour out into the streets and parking lot, trying to accommodate a crowd larger than the population of the towns in which many of us serve, the meager afternoon potluck prepared for our small church family would miraculously multiply to feed the hungry masses. We would look around us in wonder and awe at what God had done, and we would know, surely, this was the point of all the years of faithful toil.
Which is what makes what happens the next day all the more startling. The crowd chased Jesus down to the other side of the lake, hoping for a repeat performance. Instead, Jesus chastised them and preached a sermon about the “bread of life,” which they clearly did not understand. Then, rather than clarifying or explaining himself, Jesus doubled down.
Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me. (John 6:53-57 NIV)
As a people committed to the practice of communion and to being nourished by the Word and Spirit of God, this passage doesn’t seem all that strange to us. In its context, however, it was perceived as confounding, difficult, and possibly unhinged. The crowd dissipated, and even many who had considered themselves disciples walked away. Jesus asked the twelve if they, too, were thinking of going.
Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God.” (John 6:68-69)
This is a rather restrained answer from the often impetuous Peter, whom we could almost imagine saying instead, “Jesus, we just had a really good thing going here, and you messed it up!”
Indeed, considering the story solely by the numbers, we might regard a preacher whose congregation swelled from a dozen to many thousands, who then gave a sermon so offensive it reverted back to a dozen a day later, something of a failure. We would, at the very least, say he had squandered a vital opportunity. The numbers, however, do not always tell the story.
This is a critical lesson for a church of any size, but it is, perhaps, particularly poignant and encouraging to those of us who live in small towns and serve in small churches: Jesus loved the crowd. Jesus taught the crowd. Jesus had compassion on the crowd. But Jesus consistently favored, in ministry and in priority, the deep cultivation of a relative handful of genuine disciples over the adoration of the crowd.
When we have the ear of the crowd, we endeavor to share the hope of the Gospel, and rightly so. But we cannot disciple a crowd. Whether we serve five thousand, five dozen, or five, the greatest gift we can give to the future of the Kingdom is well-prepared and fully committed disciples of Jesus. Their lives will have an impact that reaches beyond numbers.
Doug Parks is an alumnus of York University, Pepperdine University, and Seattle Pacific University. He has served the church for more than three decades as a minister and counselor, and has served in Saint James, Missouri, since 2016. He and his wife, Lisa, have raised four faithful children and are now shamelessly spoiling two grandchildren.