Church planting: the realm of the fearless entrepreneur?

What would your caricature of a church planter be?

Caricatures simplify complex realities, offering a sharp, sometimes humorous (sometimes painful) reflection of a particular image or assumption. Typically in a caricature, a particular feature is often exaggerated at the expense of the rest of the face (think of the beach portrait with the enormous nose or chin).

So then, what would your caricature of a church planter be? If you had to ‘accentuate’ one aspect, what would you choose?

I think I began my planting journey feeling a bit of an outsider as I assumed planters would all be the rugged, successful, pioneering, check-shirted, bearded, tattooed, multi-talented leader - someone vastly more impressive than me. In my mind, church planting was the realm of the fearless entrepreneur, the risk-taking spiritual warrior.

In reality, it turns out we’re a diverse and complicated bunch! Yes, there are the rugged pioneers, yes there can often be beards, but there are also introverts, thinkers, and those who never saw themselves as natural leaders but were drawn to planting out of obedience rather than personality type. There’s no one-size-fits-all planter.

Caricature of a church plant

But… there’s some element of truth in the caricature, isn’t there? Because the church planting culture that’s often perpetuated can drift into a kind of ‘success culture’- a mindset where mistakes and struggles are swept under the carpet, where we’re not really able to really hear about the reality of planting. This success-driven stories can be isolating for those who struggle, leaving them (us) feeling like failures when their experience doesn’t match the inspiring stories they hear from conference stages or in books.

Indeed, many (nearly 30%) who struggled in my planting study spoke of their naiveté when it came to how hard planting was. The gap between expectation and reality can be vast. We picture the triumphant launch, the eager crowds, the transformed, unified community. But often, the early years (or even decades?) might marked by a slow, grinding faithfulness rather than explosive growth.

This reality was highlighted to me when speaking to a couple of Australian planters who (in that classic brash Aussie manner) were almost painfully up-front about why their plants had not worked as they hoped or planned. One spoke about the perpetual external struggles they had had to navigate (whether local opposition or being unable to find a venue), while the other spoke very honestly of their own issues and character flaws.

What was really unusual, however, was not just their honesty but the fact that their church planting network had given them an opportunity at a conference (followed by a podcast) to share their learnings. They weren’t being celebrated for their success; they were being heard for their failures. And that, in itself, was transformational. It often takes one brave pioneer to be honest about their weaknesses and failures before others feel able to follow suit.

A much-needed culture change

Very often, the books we read and the talks we listen to are from the unusual outliers who have been incredibly fruitful, as opposed to the rest of us who have struggled. But my perception from my Aussie friends was that the culture began to change when they shared how they’d got it wrong. When they stripped away the illusion of perfection, others felt able to do the same.

Culture is hard to change, but it seems to me that it starts with honesty from the leader. When we - planters, pastors, and ministry leaders (or maybe simply Christians) - model that it’s okay to get it wrong, we create space for others to do the same. When we acknowledge that we’re not perfect, that living the Christian life is hard, that leadership is hard, that church planting is hard, we normalise the reality of struggle. We make it ok not to be ok.

Perhaps, then, the most helpful caricature of a church planter ought to be - not the rugged, lone-ranger pioneer - but rather the humble, perpetual learner in need of grace. The one who stumbles forward, sometimes getting it right, often getting it wrong, but always clinging to the One who builds the church. Maybe if we embraced that image more, our culture would shift. And perhaps that culture of honesty would lead to a little less naiveté.