The problem with big churches

The problem with big churches... is that they're so big.
And as it happens, the church around which I've hung with increasing frequency over the past four and a half years is pretty sizable. One could almost say largish. And for three of those years (two of which I was a student, only part of the time in the city - thus justifying in my mind having a 'drive-through' approach to church) I couldn't really say that I knew anyone there. If you were trying to spot me, it wouldn't be hard. Just look for an area where there was a pocket of empty seats, and I'd be sitting in the middle of it.
You see, I have that look. You know the one that people put on when they're riding on the coach alone and don't want someone sitting beside them in their personal space? I do it without thinking or trying. Some people hide behind sarcasm or silliness; some behind styles of clothing or language. Some people hide more overtly under their blankets in bed or under a pile of work at the office; some under hats or behind dark glasses. I hide by being aloof.
We are creatures of habit and by habit, we tend to slip into the places where we feel most comfortable: often our hiding places.
Do I dislike people? No. Do I hate talking to people? The fact that while I can be very reticent around strangers and yet can talk the ear off a donkey around others, suggests not. Does being put on the spot cause me to lose any idea of what to say? Yes! In fact, I would find it more stressful if someone told me to go talk to some stranger than I would if they told me to get up in front of a thousand people and say such-and-such.
The key for me was structure. I needed to get involved in order to get to know people. I could sit in the same spot for a whole year and never see the same person twice. In becoming involved, getting to know people came more easily.
But tonight, I find myself being challenged. So I've gotten to know a few people who are already connected. So what? Would they miss me so much if I wasn't there? Maybe a little bit, but they've got like thirty other people they can talk to. But some people come and go feeling like strangers. I know because I was one of them.
I was talking to a complete stranger about God tonight for about forty-five minutes after church. He had a lot to say on the subject and said some pretty thought-provoking things (he went to Tyndale back in the day, after all). One thing he mentioned was that when Christians talk to each other, even in small churches where everyone knows everyone, the conversation seems to stick to things like 'how's work going?' 'how's your great aunt?' But nobody ever asks, 'what's God doing in your life right now?' And it's true, I was raised, eighteen years of my life in small churches. People never challenged me. Can't say I grew very much either.
Now when I look at a big church, I see two degrees of separation from growth. Everyone's a stranger, so we don't even stop and ask them how work or school is going, let alone asking how their Walk is going.

In recent years we have heard much about the "population explosion" - masses of people burgeoning at rates hitherto undreamed of. But the population has been increasing at a far greater rate than the church. The reason is simple: while people have been multiplying, we have merely been making additions.
-D. James Kennedy

If we don't challenge each other to grow, what we'll see is spiritual addition rather than multiplication. Tonight, I feel challenged to break out of the comfort zone. Let God lead me to do the little things I've neglected. Even if it's as small as eye contact with a stranger, a smile, a word of greeting...
Nobody ever got a medal for the small things, but their absence generally speaks louder than the grand sweeping gestures.