Welcome to small group! You might think being social shouldn’t need its own set of FAQs, but Christian community is a little fraught. For some of us, it’s the closest we ever get to heaven on earth. For the rest of us, it’s the biggest disappointment since The Phantom Menace.
I hate bracing myself for disappointment. Shouldn’t I be less cynical about other Christians? Shouldn’t I expect good things from small groups?
Well, as Brené Brown said, expectations are resentments under construction. And what phrase has more expectations built into it than “body of Christ?”
But when small groups work, they’re just so damn awesome. Like a second family. So why do I feel so wary?
Well, you usually don’t sign up for a family. Or show up to a house full of people you don’t know and leave with new siblings.
Yeah. So why do they work sometimes? I’d be less jumpy if I knew every fellowship would be lousy.
Serendipity. Divine intervention. Or, dare we say it, chance.
You’re not making us feel better. Is it really just about luck? What about the Holy Spirit?
We’re not trying to bag on small groups, but expecting instant community from them is kind of like serving Sanka and being surprised it doesn’t usually taste like premium espresso. Random people gathered with no other reason for being together except the same free night can be very hit-or-miss.
So why does my church act like small groups are a no-fail recipe?
Because it’s something staff can make happen on purpose, every other Tuesday at seven pm. It’s programmable.
Honestly, I didn’t expect you to sound so jaded.
We’re a little surprised ourselves.
Now I’m depressed.
Sorry. It’s not all bad news. The truth is small groups can be little miracles. God does take the Sanka sometimes and turn it into a rich latte. Or water into wine, if you want to be Biblical. It happens. We all know it happens—and honestly, it happens more than we would expect given the randomness of small groups.
I was starting to think my good experiences were all a figment of my imagination.
No: the Holy Spirit works through this church program. She does. She shows up for the awkward small talk and the ice breaker question and the seven-layer dip.
So then what do I do? How do I help my group gel?
Maybe let go of the idea you can make your group gel?
I’m not following.
Well, if small groups gelling is a result of the Holy Spirit + luck, then trying harder isn’t going to help.
So I should just give up?
We prefer “surrender”.
Look, giving up doesn’t have to be a hopeless act. It doesn’t have to be bitter. What if—like so many parts of faith—finding community were not something you could put on your calendar? What if being lonely at church doesn’t mean you’re failing? What if your job is to just connect in the ways that are possible for you, and accept that sometimes, community doesn’t happen when you wish it would?
Are these FAQs supposed to make me feel better?
It could if you sink down deep into its hard freedom. If you stop telling yourself you’re terrible at community and accept that finding community as an adult is really hard, you’ll be freer.
That’s not the blessing I was looking for. What I really want is people. No: what I really need is people. Do you understand how desperate I get sometimes?
We hear you. Jesus takes your loneliness seriously. We’re not trying to explain it away. But you live in a culture that sucks at hospitality and connection, and the church is only a little better than average. You might feel lonely. But you don’t have to feel ashamed. It’s not perfect news. But it is good news.
I wish I could just show up at small group, eat the dip and find my family, you know?
We hear you. We wish we had magic spells to give you, but instead we’ve got this body, broken for you.
Maybe small groups aren’t going to look like you hope. Maybe they aren’t going to save you in the way you think they should. But honest to God: when you let go of controlling the outcome, we promise the seeds of intention you sow will bear fruit in your life, even when you’re sure you’re barren. We promise that hard news can be good news, even if the waiting brings tears to our eyes.
The Bible as an Instrument of Self-Harm
I like limited-term ones. College-me would be scandalized to hear that, but sometimes a group is good for a season, then you can choose whether to keep up those friendships after it is done or start a new group or whatever. But having “exit points” helps so you don’t feel like you’re a traitor to your kin if you leave. It’s so intimidating to think about committing to a group of complete strangers with no end.
I totally get this–and I’m completely the opposite. (Are you an extrovert?) For me, the short-term ones feel exhausting w/o any real payoff. My church has small groups set up for 10 weeks at a time, and the churn that produced really was soul-destroying for me. I just can’t handle new people every 10 weeks. I’m kinda waiting until I can find a group that has lasted a while with roughly the same group of people.
BUT I think it’s GREAT for other people–much lower stakes. I think the whole trick to small groups is to really pay attention to what DOES work for you, and release yourself until you find those particular conditions. It makes me angry when staff asks us to pretend otherwise.
haha yes, I’m like off-the-charts extrovert. I didn’t think of it in this context, but it’s so true. Ideally, I’d like to first meet a wide variety of people and then settle down and commit to the ones I connect with the most. (But it is different when you already know the people and aren’t brand new to a church.) That said, I’ve been in great small groups that I joined as a complete stranger. So, it depends on the person/church, I suppose. My last church did our Sunday school on a rotating schedule and it was good to mix it up with, say, half people we already knew really well and half we didn’t know as well. But I can totally see how an introvert might hate this with a passion. haha
Ha! Oh, yeah, I CALLED it.
Yes–I’ve shown up a stranger and had it work beautifully. If I were single, and I didn’t have to make the group work for my whole family (plus, if I did not already have my limited people-hours drained by homeschooling) I’d give it a whirl more often. But it’s stressful to ‘just give things a whirl’ when there are four of us involved.
Marriage–it’s like built in community! And also a little bit like being a conjoined twin 🙂
haha yeah, as a single person, it looks a little different for me, especially if I join a “singles” group. I’d be so afraid that “giving it a whirl” with a long-term commitment “life-on-life” group would mean that I’m roped into making these people my “family.” Which would be AWESOME if they are awesome. But if it’s more in the awkward category… how do you get out without telling them: “this is just weird and uncomfortable. I don’t have any excuses of busyness or family commitments. I just don’t want to be here.” lol
No, absolutely–I have that fear too 🙂
Thank you! I am struggling with Small Groups in a big way this year. I even skipped joining one the last 2 years because of a crazy schedule, but when the pastor preached “We can’t help you unless you’re in a small group,” I figured I needed to do something- because the last year has been one of grief, loss, and pain and no one from the church stepped in, so I figured it was because I wasn’t in a small group. So I joined a small group, with people my age and supposedly in my stage of life and I threw myself in. Yes every week I came away feeling exhausted and like a failure. After sticking it out for weeks, I knew I needed something else, yet the next group didn’t quite gel either but I’m afraid of admitting my failure a 2nd time and backing out of yet another group. So I make up excuses not to go. I’m desperate for community, but it’s just not working and I feel like a terrible failure who just likes to isolate herself and then complain about not feeling connected. It’s just the last 3 attempts I have not felt at all like they were a group of people I could potentially be open and vulnerable with and I feel bad about that. I still feel like a failure, because that’s just the way I operate, but thank you for letting me know there are others out there in the same boat!
Your pastor’s attitude REALLY pisses me off. AHHHH. I think small groups can be lovely, and they are usually the best chance to connect in a church, BUT THEY ARE NOT FOOLPROOF, and sometimes, like all human programs, they can make things worse. And his message is so callous to that reality. It’s NOT YOUR FAULT. This is no different than the kind of *&^% pastor’s say about how reading your Bible every day will definitely make you grow and bring you closer to Jesus. There’s a grain of truth there, and it definitely works sometimes, but neither the Bible nor small groups are magic beans. Nor vending machines that deliver predictable results every time you contribute a quarter’s worth of participation. To say is offensive to the gospel. ONLY Jesus saves us.
I’m sorry he has put this on you (and other people). In the name of Jesus, I release you from any sense that you are at fault for your sense of isolation. I pray that you would find community in unexpected places, and that you would feel released to seek community that fills you with life, whether your pastor likes it or not 🙂
Keep in mind that many pastors and churches are NOT set up for introverts, who find connecting with relative strangers about as comfortable as nails on a chalkboard. Introverts face a triple-bind in many churches because 1) it’s harder for us to connect to new people anyway and 2) church staff is usually extroverted, and unaware of how introversion works, so they set up programs that only work for extroverts 3) then they stigmatize you overtly or subtly for “isolating” yourself. It’s a load of *&^%.
And, also, The honest truth is that church people are often not safe people. That sucks, and it’s not Jesus’ call for the church, but it isn’t your fault.
I don’t know that I have great advice for you, Molly, nor do I know if you’re looking for anyway. I haven’t been in small groups for years now, and I won’t commit again unless I know at least one other person in the group well and can be honest about this whole dynamic. I’d rather feel slightly alone at church than actively alienated–which is what happens when I’m in a small group, how ever lovely the people, where I don’t fit.
Phew. Thank you. I had an awesome small group once. Twenty years ago. Since then they have sucked, and I’ve spent twenty years thinking the problem is probably me. It seems so hard to make them not just generic bland. I felt that sharing with more vulnerability was a key, and so tried that – but then everyone just jumped on me and made me feel like the black sheep that needed fixing every time. And this was just me testing the water sharing some little stuff- no way was I now going to share the big clangers after that. I’ve given up now. I can’t do the forced regimented “this is your close family” who you have nothing in common with except some shared professions of faith thing. I just hang out with friends now instead. I find community in sports teams and theatre groups way easier than church small group. I think that’s because I find it easier to get alongside people when there is a shared something-to-do. That isn’t just discussion.
Thanks, Sunny. Yes–I agree about the ‘doing things’ together, having shared work. So much of our faith is so disembodied that I think we miss how important it is to actually share something together. I’m with you in the wariness about small groups–and I’m praying that we both find one that works well–whether it’s a traditional ‘small group’ or not.