I’m going to attempt to paraphrase a story I heard at a small-groups conference a little over a year ago, so please bear with me. The speaker was Randy Frazee. The story centered on Frazee’s first attempt at small-group ministry as the senior pastor of a large church in the suburbs of Fort Worth, Texas.
Being the senior pastor, Frazee wanted to make sure that his small group was an example of excellence for the rest of the church to follow. So after much prayer and deliberation, he and his wife invited the most spiritual couple in the church to serve as co-leaders, and then the most athletic, most attractive, most intelligent, and most wealthy couples to round out the group. They called it their “Super Small Group.”
The only problem was that the couples’ homes were spread out, which meant that Frazee and his wife had to travel between 25 and 40 minutes each way to get to their group meeting every week. About this time, however, Frazee’s new next-door neighbor – a real whiz at hospitality and socializing – began organizing regular get-togethers within the neighborhood. Consequently, Frazee’s Super Small Group became less and less appealing in light of what was happening in his own backyard.
He described one specific occasion when the next-door neighbor set up a street-wide potluck event. The evening of this event happened to coincide with the meeting time of the Super Small Group. Frazee described his sense of loss as he and his wife pulled out of their driveway and watched children playing kickball in the street, men playing horseshoes across a front lawn, families gathered together over steaming plates of fried chicken and cool glasses of lemonade, and so on.
It was a great story, and I’m sure I haven’t done it justice here. But that was when I first began to ask myself the question: When does a small group become just another meeting? When does a small group cross the line between supportive community and draining obligation? How do you know when it’s time to go?
There’s no straight answer, of course. But there are some common symptoms I’ve observed in my own life, and in the lives of others. Here are a few of the main ones:
? You bring a negative attitude to the group. I knew things had gotten out of hand when my wife began to scold me after meetings for being “morose.”
? You continually “misfire” in your responsibilities within the group. Things like forgetting to answer homework questions, not following through on promises and forgetting to pray for people are all signs that you are mentally and emotionally detached from the group, if not physically.
? You regularly fail to attend group meetings. If the group has become low enough on your priority list that you are unable to consistently attend, it’s probably time to move on.
? You’ve identified a clear alternative. I’m not talking about a television show you’d like to watch, or more time spent at work. I’m talking about a different way to slake your inborn need for community.
? You just know. Small groups have a pattern of birth, life, growth, decline, and death. The same thing is true for individual involvement in a small group, and sometimes you just know that the time has come to try something else.
In lieu of a conclusion, let me emphasize that leaving a small group should not be your first response to difficulty, conflict, or any kind of stress within your group. It should not be your second response, or fifth. Any decision to walk away from a supportive community of Christians should be a last resort – a final option.
But sometimes we need to be reminded that it is an option. And if your small group has become something life-draining instead of life-giving, it’s an option you may need to consider.
