Beloved,
Last Friday, we had a rough night with Vos. He was complaining of pain in his legs when he went to bed, and then he woke up an hour later crying. Tessa, being the gracious mama that she is, ended up spending the night on the pull-out couch with him (while I sprawled out on our comfy bed all by myself!). I’m no medical doctor, but it seems Vos was experiencing growing pains—intense muscle aches in the legs often felt by healthy, growing children. While the current medical consensus is that these pains are not directly related to physical growth, the name has stuck. And I’m glad it has, because it reminds us that growth, in all its forms, usually entails some element of pain.
I think most of us have been experiencing that in the context of our still small, but growing congregation. God has been very kind to us this past year, bringing individuals from many different places—both geographically and ecclesiologically. It has been beautiful to behold, but it has also left me personally wanting to cry at times. Why? There are at least four reasons that come to mind.
1. Growth gives rise to new memories.
That might not sound like a reason to cry—especially if those memories are sweet. But when something becomes a memory, it becomes part of the past. Earlier this week, Vos was sitting on Tessa’s lap during family worship, and it struck me that he is almost as big as her! The toddler months are behind us. And while the memories are precious, there is real pain in knowing those days can never be relived. I’m glad to have a 5-year-old, but part of me mourns the joys of days gone by. So too, I’m deeply thankful for the new brothers and sisters the Lord has brought to Cornerstone (and if you are a relatively new member or visitor, please don’t hear me wishing you away!). Yet there are times when I find myself missing the simplicity, the quietness, and the easy intimacy of earlier years. As a pastor, I miss being able to meaningfully interact with every member each Lord’s Day. Now I consider it a good Sunday if I get to half of you. I miss being able to look out from the pulpit on Sunday morning and instantly notice who is absent. Growth means change, and change means things are not the way they once were. That is not bad—but it can be painful.
2. Growth gives rise to new uncertainties.
Tessa and I feel this with every new stage of parenting. Each boy is different, and each season brings its own challenges. By the time we think we have parenting figured out, the boys change and we’re back to square one. It keeps us from ever getting comfortable or thinking we’ve arrived. And it’s painful. In a similar way, the numerical growth of the church hasn’t shaken my philosophy of ministry or my convictions about the church, public worship, or confessional orthodoxy. But it has forced me—and the entire session—to wrestle with questions we’ve never faced before. Our current conversations about building expansion are just one example. Talk about uncomfortable! The uncertainties surrounding that issue alone are many and weighty. There are also questions about how the culture of our church will shift, since it necessarily reflects the people who make it up. You’re probably wrestling with your own concerns: Where is this ship heading? What does the future hold for Cornerstone? If things could just stay the same, things would feel more under control (or perhaps better, within our power to control).
3. Growth gives rise to new responsibilities.
In God’s kindness, we have a number of new babies in the church. Every parent will tell you that a growing family equals growing responsibilities. Likewise, the growth of the church increases our obligations. Each of us is called to use our gifts to love every member of the body, not just those we naturally gravitate toward. The leaders of the church, in particular, are responsible to intimately care for every member. It is amazing to consider all the children and youth the Lord has blessed us with. What a gift! But to whom much has been given, much will be required. We will answer to God for how we cared for the covenant children He entrusted to us. That weighs heavily on my heart—and if you are a member of Cornerstone, it should weigh on yours too.
4. Growth gives rise to new susceptibilities.
Each stage of boyhood brings its own temptations and difficulties, and church growth likewise introduces potential pitfalls. We could become cliquish rather than one big family. We could function like a well-oiled machine instead of a personal (and messy) flock. Institutional structures and programs could overshadow organic life together. Ministry “success” could breed pride and prayerlessness. We could even slip into a cult of personality, building the church around a pastor who lacks accountability. I’ve seen all of these things firsthand in growing churches. One great advantage of being a church of 40–50 members is that it’s very hard to fall into any of those traps. Of course, small churches face their own unique temptations. But the vulnerabilities that come with numerical growth terrify me. That is why the joy of receiving new brothers and sisters into membership is tempered with the pain of knowing our proneness to wander.
Beloved, if you are experiencing growing pains, know that you are not alone. And praise God for it! As we saw a few weeks ago in James 1:2–4, our souls are antifragile and actually need trials to grow stronger, humbler, and purer. So let us lean into the pain of change by faith.
May new memories lead us to thank God for the sweetness of days gone by.
May new uncertainties drive us to rest in God’s exhaustive and fatherly providence.
May new responsibilities lead us to depend on His empowering grace to love one another well with our God-given gifts.
May new susceptibilities compel us to keep our hearts in God’s word and His word in our hearts lest we stray.
Oh brothers and sisters, our God is at work—let us keep our souls firmly fixed on Him and trust that He has most valuable lessons for us in the growing pains!
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Nick