Reflection: Are We Really Growing?

Or Are We Chasing Numbers of Bums on Pews?

Lately, I have found myself asking a question that I never really expected to ask: what do we actually mean when we say that a church is growing?

Perhaps I ask it because of my own experience of faith and the way I was brought up within the Church. I was taught that faith was never something you simply arrived at and then left alone. Wherever you were in life, whatever your age and whatever your level of education, you should keep exploring, questioning and deepening your faith.

That understanding has stayed with me.

My own theological studies have reinforced it. The more I have learned about Scripture, theology, Church history and our Anglican tradition, the more I have realised how much there is still to discover. Learning has not made me feel that I have somehow finished growing as a Christian. If anything, it has made me more aware of how much I still have to learn.

So when I hear conversations about church growth, I find myself wondering what kind of growth we are actually talking about.

We often hear about attracting more people, welcoming families and increasing attendance. Of course, these things matter. The Church is called to proclaim the Gospel and make disciples. Jesus says:

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations.”— Matthew 28:19

I absolutely believe we should want people to come through our doors. We should want people to encounter Christ. We should want people to hear the Good News and discover the hope of the Christian faith.

But is getting more people through the door the same thing as making disciples?

And this is where I find myself asking the slightly uncomfortable question:

Are we really growing, or are we simply chasing numbers of bums on pews?

For me, genuine Christian growth is about much more than numbers. It is about people growing in their relationship with Christ, understanding their faith, being formed as disciples and learning to care for one another.

A church can become larger without necessarily becoming deeper.

It can become busier without necessarily becoming more Christ-like.

It can have fuller pews without necessarily having people whose lives are being transformed by the Gospel.

That does not mean numbers are unimportant. Of course they matter. Every person who walks through the door matters.

But the person matters for more than the number they add to the attendance figures.

That, for me, is the heart of the question.

What happens to people once they come through the door?

Are they welcomed?

Are they known?

Are they encouraged to grow?

Are they given the opportunity to understand their faith?

Are they supported when life becomes difficult?

Are they becoming disciples of Jesus Christ?

This is where I find the thought of St John Henry Newman, together with Scripture, particularly helpful.

St John Henry Newman and Christian formation

One of the things I find particularly interesting about Newman is his belief that ordinary Christians should be encouraged not simply to attend church, but to know, understand and live their faith.

This is important when we think about what Christian growth actually means.

Newman did not see theology as something belonging only to priests, bishops or academics. Lay people had minds, questions and a capacity to learn. He wanted Christians who were able to understand the faith they had received and engage with it seriously.

Newman famously wrote:

“I want a laity, not arrogant, not rash in speech, not disputatious, but men who know their religion.”

For me, the important part is:

“men who know their religion.”

Newman's point was not that every Christian needed to become an academic theologian. Rather, he recognised that Christian formation matters.

A person is not necessarily becoming a stronger disciple simply because they have been sitting in a pew for twenty, thirty or forty years.

We can attend worship regularly and still have unanswered questions about what we believe.

We can increase the size of a congregation without necessarily deepening the faith of the people within it.

We can fill the pews without forming disciples.

That is why Newman's emphasis on knowing the faith is so important to this question of growth. For Newman, Christian maturity involved formation of the whole person—mind, heart and life—not simply attendance.

And this connects very strongly with how I was brought up in the Church.

I was taught that wherever you are in life, and whatever your level of education or theological knowledge, you should never stop exploring and deepening your faith.

There should never be a point where we think, “I have been a Christian for long enough; I know everything I need to know.”

Faith is a lifelong journey.

We continue to read Scripture. We continue to pray. We continue to ask questions. We continue to discover things about the Christian faith that perhaps we had never understood before.

And I think this is where Newman's understanding of the laity is particularly important. He wanted Christians who engaged with their faith—not simply people who occupied a pew every Sunday.

That distinction matters.

Imagine someone who attends every service, week after week, and is present at every major celebration. From an attendance sheet, they might look like an extremely committed member of the Church.

But what if, despite all that attendance, they never allow the Gospel to challenge them or change the way they live?

What if they never seek to become a follower of the Good News of Jesus Christ?

Then we have to ask ourselves an uncomfortable question:

Are we simply creating a place where people attend religious services, or are we actually forming a Christian community of disciples?

Attendance is important.

But attendance by itself is not discipleship.

The purpose of Christian formation is not simply to put people on pews. It is to help people encounter Christ and allow the Gospel to transform their lives.

That idea is deeply rooted in Scripture. St Peter writes:

“Always be ready to make your defence to anyone who demands from you an account of the hope that is in you.”— 1 Peter 3:15

St Paul similarly says:

“We must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ.”— Ephesians 4:15

Notice the language Paul uses: “grow up… into Christ.”

That gives us a richer understanding of Christian growth. It is not simply about becoming larger. It is about becoming more mature in Christ.

Christian formation means giving people opportunities to ask questions about Scripture, understand the Creeds, learn something of Christian history, explore the Eucharist and engage honestly with difficult questions.

Faith involves both heart and mind.

For me, that is genuine Christian growth. It is not simply knowing more about Christianity. It is allowing what we learn to change the way we understand God, ourselves and the way we live with other people.

Adam and Christ

St Paul gives us an even deeper theological foundation for understanding Christian life in Romans 5.

He writes:

“Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death came through sin, and so death spread to all because all have sinned—”“But the free gift is not like the trespass. For if the many died through the one man's trespass, much more surely have the grace of God and the free gift in the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, abounded for the many.”— Romans 5:12–15

Paul places Adam and Christ in contrast.

Through Adam, sin and death entered the human story. Through Christ comes the free gift of God's grace.

That matters because Christian growth does not begin with our own achievements. It begins with what God has done for us in Christ.

We receive grace, and then we are called to live differently because of it.

Growth, therefore, is not growth for its own sake. It is growth into Christ.

That is why Christian formation matters. If we are called to be disciples, we need opportunities to understand the faith we have received and allow it to shape our lives.

We are not trying to build a successful organisation simply for the sake of having larger numbers. We are responding to the grace we have already received.

The Christian life is therefore not a competition to see which congregation can attract the most people.

It is a journey of becoming more like Christ.

What does it mean to be welcoming?

We often speak about being a welcoming community, and rightly so.

Jesus says:

“Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.”— Matthew 18:5

And Hebrews reminds us:

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers.”— Hebrews 13:2

But welcome should not end when someone first walks through the door.

If our only measure of welcome is whether somebody attends once, we have missed something important.

Christian welcome should lead to belonging.

It should mean that someone becomes known, valued and supported. It should mean that people are not simply welcomed into a building but welcomed into a community.

St Paul says:

“Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfil the law of Christ.”— Galatians 6:2

That means Christian welcome has to become relationship.

And this is where I think we need to look honestly at ourselves.

What happens when people begin to struggle?

What happens when someone feels hurt?

What happens when someone becomes exhausted?

What happens when someone simply stops coming?

Do we notice?

Do we ask why?

Do we reach out?

Or do we simply notice that there is now an empty space in the pew?

If someone disappears from our community and nobody asks where they are or whether they are alright, can we really say that we are living as the community Christ calls us to be?

When someone becomes exhausted, feels overwhelmed or is hurt by what has happened, the response should not simply be to find someone else to fill the gap.

People matter beyond the roles they perform.

Likewise, if someone who has been part of a congregation for many years begins to struggle, their value does not suddenly disappear because they can no longer volunteer, serve on a rota or contribute in the same way.

A person's worth does not come from what they can do for the organisation.

It comes from the fact that they are a person made in the image of God and, within the Christian community, a member of the Body of Christ.

A welcome sign on the door is easy.

Living out Christian hospitality and bearing one another's burdens requires something deeper.

When management begins to replace ministry

There is a danger that congregations can begin to think too much like organisations and not enough like communities of faith.

Management is necessary. We need administration, safeguarding, finances, buildings, rotas and planning.

There is nothing wrong with good organisation.

The problem comes when organisation becomes the measure of ministry.

When numbers, targets, attendance figures and activity become more important than the spiritual lives of the people involved, something has gone wrong.

People are not simply figures to be managed.

Jesus gives us the image of the Good Shepherd:

“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.”— John 10:11

And:

“I know my own and my own know me.”— John 10:14

The image is very different from simply counting people or organising activity.

The shepherd knows, accompanies and cares for the flock.

The ministry of a priest therefore involves more than administration. It includes teaching, prayer, sacramental ministry, pastoral care and helping people grow in their relationship with God.

St Peter says:

“Tend the flock of God that is in your charge.”— 1 Peter 5:2

That word “tend” is important.

The flock is not simply a number.

It is made up of people.

People with joys and sorrows. People with questions and doubts. People who are struggling. People who are growing. People who need encouragement. People who sometimes get things wrong.

Administration should support that ministry, not become a substitute for it.

Matthew 18 and the responsibility we have towards one another

This brings me to Jesus' teaching in Matthew 18.

Jesus says:

“If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone.”

Jesus' purpose is not humiliation or winning an argument. He says:

“If the member listens to you, you have regained that one.”

The emphasis is on restoration.

That is an important principle for any Christian community.

If our concern is simply keeping numbers high, we might be tempted to avoid difficult conversations because we are afraid that somebody might leave.

But Christian community cannot be built on pretending that nothing is wrong.

Sometimes love requires honesty.

Sometimes pastoral care means listening to someone who is angry or hurt.

Sometimes reconciliation requires difficult conversations.

The goal, however, should not be punishment or victory.

It should be restoration.

St Paul expresses the same principle:

“Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other.”— Colossians 3:13

Pastoral care is therefore not an optional extra.

It is part of living the Gospel.

And this brings us back to formation.

We are not only formed through sermons, Bible studies or theological teaching. We are also formed through the way we treat one another.

A congregation teaches people what Christianity means not only through what it says, but through how it behaves.

When gossip replaces love

There is another uncomfortable question we need to ask.

What happens when gossip becomes part of our community life?

Jesus calls us to love one another.

St Paul tells us that love is patient and kind.

Yet gossip can so easily damage relationships, create divisions and make people feel that they are being talked about rather than cared for.

If people are leaving because they feel judged, isolated or spoken about behind their backs, we have to ask ourselves what kind of Christian community we are becoming.

Of course, disagreements will happen.

People will misunderstand one another.

Christians will sometimes get things wrong.

We are human.

But the answer cannot simply be to talk about people when they are not present.

We should be asking whether we are building people up or tearing them down.

St Paul writes:

“Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up.”— Ephesians 4:29

That is another measure of growth.

Not how many people are sitting in the pews, but how we treat the people sitting beside us.

If we are growing numerically but becoming less loving, less compassionate and less willing to forgive, can we honestly call that Christian growth?

“Where two or three are gathered”

Jesus also says:

“For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”— Matthew 18:20

There is something reassuring about those words.

Christ's presence does not depend upon the size of the congregation.

Numbers may tell us something about a community, but they cannot tell us everything about its spiritual life.

A congregation of hundreds may have serious problems of division, loneliness or lack of formation.

A much smaller congregation may be deeply prayerful, generous, faithful and committed to one another.

Of course, that does not mean numbers are irrelevant.

If nobody is coming to hear the Gospel, we should ask why.

If a congregation is shrinking, we should not simply shrug our shoulders and say that numbers do not matter.

The Church is called to mission.

We should want people to encounter Christ.

We should want people to hear the Gospel.

We should want new generations to discover the Christian faith.

But the number of people sitting in the pews cannot be the only definition of success.

Acts gives us an early picture of Christian community:

“They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.”— Acts 2:42

Here we see teaching, fellowship, worship and prayer.

That is a much richer picture of Christian growth than simply becoming larger.

A community that forms its people

This brings us back to Newman.

If Christian growth is about becoming disciples, then formation cannot be an afterthought.

The Christian faith has been handed down through generations, and each generation has the responsibility to understand it and live it faithfully.

For Anglicans, that can mean opportunities to explore Scripture, the Creeds, the sacraments, Christian history, the Church Fathers, doctrine, prayer and the relationship between faith and reason.

Not everyone needs a theology degree.

But everyone should have the opportunity to grow in understanding.

This is where I think Newman still has something important to say to the Church today.

If we genuinely care about Christian growth, then we should care about forming Christians.

If we want people to remain committed to the faith, we should help them understand the faith.

If we want people to become mature disciples, we need to give them opportunities to learn, ask questions and deepen their relationship with Christ.

Simply putting more people on pews does not automatically achieve that.

My own theological study has shown me the value of that opportunity. It has not given me all the answers; if anything, it has made me more aware of the questions.

As St Paul says:

“Now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part.”— 1 Corinthians 13:12

That is a beautiful reminder that Christian formation is a lifelong journey.

We never reach the point where we can say, “I now know everything there is to know about God.”

There is always more to discover.

There is always more to understand.

There is always room to grow.

I believe all churches should create space for people to learn, question and discover the richness of the Christian faith.

The community I hope for

I hope for a Christian community where someone can walk through the door for the first time and genuinely be welcomed, while those who have been there for many years remain equally valued.

I hope for priests who are not simply administrators, but pastors, teachers, spiritual guides and shepherds.

I hope for lay people who are recognised not merely as volunteers filling gaps in a rota, but as members of the Body of Christ, with gifts, questions and vocations of their own.

St Paul reminds us:

“There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit.”— 1 Corinthians 12:4

I hope for places where theology is not frightening or elitist, and where someone can say, “I don't understand this,” and hear:

“That's alright. Let's learn together.”

I hope for communities where people who are struggling are cared for, where disagreements can lead to reconciliation, and where people are valued for who they are rather than simply for what they can do.

I hope for communities where worship is not simply something we attend, but something that draws us more deeply into the life of Christ.

I hope for communities where teaching is taken seriously, where prayer is at the heart of life together, and where people are encouraged to continue growing in faith throughout their lives.

Above all, I hope we remember that the people sitting in our pews are not resources to be managed.

They are people entrusted to our pastoral care.

So, are we really growing?

Perhaps that is the question I keep coming back to.

Are we really growing?

Or are we simply becoming better at counting?

Are we celebrating because attendance has increased, without asking what those people are actually being formed into?

Are we so concerned about getting more people through the door that we forget to ask what happens once they are inside?

Are we welcoming people without helping them belong?

Are we asking volunteers to do more without asking whether they are spiritually supported?

Are we measuring activity while overlooking formation?

Are we filling pews while failing to notice when somebody quietly stops coming?

Are we hearing gossip about people rather than speaking to them with love?

And perhaps most importantly:

Are we making disciples, or are we simply filling pews?

These are not easy questions, but I think they are necessary ones.

Because numbers can tell us how many people are present.

They cannot tell us whether people are growing in holiness.

They cannot tell us whether people are learning to forgive.

They cannot tell us whether people are becoming more prayerful.

They cannot tell us whether people are growing in their knowledge and love of Christ.

And they certainly cannot tell us everything about the spiritual health of a Christian community.

A final reflection

When I began this reflection, I was thinking about what it really means for a Christian community to grow.

My own experience has changed how I understand that word.

Through studying theology, I have discovered that growth is not simply about doing more, attracting more people or becoming more efficient.

For me, it has meant going deeper: understanding my faith more clearly, asking better questions and becoming more aware of how much I still have to learn.

And that brings me back to Newman.

His call for Christians to “know their religion” is, for me, not a call to intellectual pride. It is a call to formation.

It is a reminder that Christianity is something we are called to receive, understand, live and continually grow into.

That is also how I was brought up within the Church: to keep exploring my faith, wherever I am in life and whatever level of theological education I may have.

Romans 5 reminds me that this journey begins with grace.

Through Christ, we receive the free gift of God.

So Christian growth is not about building something impressive for ourselves. It is about allowing God's grace to transform us and lead us further into the life of Christ.

That is why I believe we need to hold two things together.

We need to welcome more people.

But we also need to form the people who are already here.

We need mission, but we also need discipleship.

We need welcome, but we also need belonging.

We need worship, but we also need teaching and prayer.

We need organisation, but we also need pastoral care.

We need to notice when somebody stops coming and have the courage to ask, “Why?”

We need to be honest enough to look at ourselves when people are hurt, when relationships break down and when gossip begins to replace love.

And yes, numbers can be valuable.

But numbers alone are not the measure of Christian growth.

Growth in numbers can be valuable, but growth in discipleship is essential.

St Peter tells us:

“Grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.”— 2 Peter 3:18

That is the growth I want to see.

Not simply more people occupying more pews.

Not simply bigger congregations or fuller buildings.

But deeper faith, stronger relationships, greater understanding, greater love, a willingness to serve, a readiness to forgive and lives increasingly shaped by Christ.

Perhaps the real question is not:

“How many bums do we have on the pews?”

Perhaps the better question is:

“How many disciples are we helping to grow?”

And perhaps there is another question we should be brave enough to ask:

“When somebody leaves, do we simply count the empty seat—or do we care enough to ask why?”

Because the ultimate purpose of the Church is not simply to fill its buildings.

It is to make disciples, to form people in the faith, to proclaim Christ and to help one another grow in the grace and knowledge of God.

And as Jesus reminds us:

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”— John 13:35

That is the kind of Christian community I hope to see—not just in my own parish, but across the Church as a whole.