3 Things I’ve Learned & 3 Things I’m Still Learning Through Church Planting
It’s been three years, folks!
Three years ago, Steadfast Church gathered as a congregation for the first time and we’re still here. As we celebrated our three-year anniversary yesterday, a gentleman from our congregation congratulated me and said something like, “I bet you never thought you’d make it this long.” It was a tongue-in-cheek sort of comment but I know what he was saying. If Las Vegas had put betting odds on a church plant (from scratch) starting in the midst of COVID and set the over/under on three years of existence — most folks would have taken the under.
Steadfast still exists by God’s grace. And God’s grace has taken the Briggs family on quite a journey over these past three-plus years. It has been a season of transformational growth as we took a leap of faith to follow God’s call on our life. In doing so, we made ourselves vulnerable and took on great relational and financial risk. Yet, God has sustained us and we’ve seen His kindness in unique and powerful ways in the midst of the risk. On the flip side, it has been a season of loss. My brother died tragically and suddenly on his farm in December of 2020. We left our home church of 12 years to establish a new congregation. We’ve experienced the ebbs and flows of people leaving the church and new people coming to the church. When referring to the church, people will often ask me, “How’s it going?” It’s difficult to answer that question in a succinct way. I mostly respond by saying, “It’s been hard but it’s been good. It’s been exhausting but it has been joyful.” Such is life.
I’ve set aside part of my day to reflect on these three years and thought I would share these thoughts with you who have been our allies from afar. I provide this update because we so appreciate your prayers, encouragement, and financial support over these past few years. I’m also writing this for me. It’s good to mark the time and to chronicle the journey even if it’s only for my own soul’s sake. And so I thought I would share three things I’ve learned in this process of church planting and three things that I’m still learning.
3 Things I’ve Learned
1. Dependency
I’m a good Midwestern kid. For most of my life, I’ve believed that enough thoughtful planning and hard work can guarantee results. I’ve learned that it can’t. Church planting has been a humbling enterprise. It has revealed all of my sin and shortcomings. It constantly pokes at my insecurities and vulnerabilities. I am humbled — made low — each week. This may sound somber to you. Sometimes it is…but it’s mostly good. God has my attention. I consistently repent of my own sense of self-sufficiency and submit myself to His Lordship. He’s in charge. I control nothing. This is a humbling confession for someone who likes to think of themselves as efficient.
Church planting has made me needy. I was never not needy but I thought I wasn’t. I am…and that’s good. My prayer life, my sense of emotional health, and my spiritual flourishing has never been better. I owe this to a good God who has humbled me through the planting of a church.
2. Faithfulness
Though I’m dependent, this does not detract from my faithfulness. Dependence doesn’t make me lazy, it makes me want to respond out of love. Because I’m dependent, I can release outcomes to God. My role in the process is faithfulness. I don’t know what God will do with my faithfulness. That’s His business. My role is to pray, to preach the gospel, to shepherd, to be a loving husband, and a loving father. This clarity has allowed me to re-define “success” in ministry.
In year one, I remember lamenting how hard church planting was to a fellow church planter friend. He kindly listened and then offered up the following advice. He said, “The advice is in your name. Your church is called Steadfast. Tim, be steadfast. That’s all I can offer.” The irony! I believe God always rewards faithfulness but the rewards are not always seen. I know my labor is not in vain but I often feel that it is. Yet, God’s at work. Even when I can’t see it.
3. Confidence
Part of the desire to plant a church was motivated by wanting to grow as a pastor. My time in ministry prior to 2020 had mostly been in large church settings where I held a niched position. Planting a church provided an environment to be more of a general practitioner-sort of pastor rather than a specialist. This has been a great joy for me. On any given week, I might be doing counseling, sermon preparation, meetings, website work, discipleship, and more. I have throughly enjoyed the variety and all of it has made me a better pastor.
3 Things I’m Still Learning
1. The Presence of Christ
Church planting and solo pastoring is lonely. This is not an indictment on my wife, my church, or my fellow Elder. They have all been wonderfully kind and generous regarding the rigors of pastoring. It is, rather, an observation. I experience something with 40–60 hours of my week in which no one else experiences. This is, by nature, isolating work. In the midst of the loneliness, I strive to experience the presence of Christ. To know that He is in me, that He is beside me, that He is before me, that He is above me, that He is for me. I know these things intellectually but I do struggle with experiencing the “withy-ness” of Christ. I have glimpses but they often seem fleeting. But, this is my aspiration. I know I serve a God who is well-acquainted with suffering, who knows loneliness, who knows burden. And He offers relief, friendship, and freedom. I’m working on creating a posture of invitation in my life. Not because God’s not already here — He is here — but to better recognize and celebrate His presence.
2. Celebration
Ministry can harden you. You often have the unique joy of seeing people at the heights of their dignity. And, at the same time, you have the unique burden of experiencing people at the depths of their depravity. This can make one cynical. It’s easy to lament as a pastor, it is hard to fight for joy. I long to celebrate more. To choose joy. To acknowledge the Lord’s goodness. Thomas Merton says, “it is both dangerous and easy to hate man as he is because he is not ‘what he ought to be.’ If we do not first respect what he is we will never suffer him to become what he ought to be: in our impatience we will do away with him altogether. No, the congregation is topsoil — seething with energy and organisms that have incredible capacities for assimilating death and participating in resurrection. The only biblical stance is awe.” I want to revel more in the awe.
3. Rest
I preached on rest yesterday. As is often the case, the sermon was for me. Rest is elusive. The efficient pragmatist in me doesn’t see much use for it. Of course, we were made for rest. I said this in my sermon, “When we don’t rest, we’re proclaiming that we are enslaved. Enslaved to our own efficiency, enslaved to materialism, enslaved to the monster of more. The gospel says we can rest from work. The gospel says we can rest from the work underneath our work. We are no longer slaves, we don’t have to earn anything, we receive rest as sons and daughters. Practicing regular rest is an act of faith. It’s announcing that you are not enslaved but you are a child of God. It’s announcing that you don’t control the world — and that you’re ok with that.” I’m still learning to rest. I’m still learning to pray prayers that sound like this, “Lord, my work this week is finished. Whatever seems unresolved in my life, I trust to you to resolve in your own way and in your own timing.”
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If you’re still reading this: I applaud you! Thanks again for your encouragement from afar, it is much appreciated.
