A Streamlined Alternative to Small Groups
At East River, we’re committed to a streamlined form of ministry.
Just because a church calendar is full doesn’t mean it’s fruitful. Sometimes all that activity just squeezes out time for the stuff that actually matters—being present, being available, being a witness. Sunday is for gathering—worshipping God, hearing His Word, being built up. It scatters to bear witness. If we’re not careful, we’ll build a ministry that keeps people busy but leaves them weak. We want to send out strong households, not exhausted ones.
That’s why we’re cautious with adding new programs. It’s not that we’re anti-program. We just think they should come alongside the main thing, not take over.
Programs as a Cast or a Supplement
When I think about programs, two pictures come to mind. First, like a cast. A cast is an artificial support for something broken. It’s not supposed to stay on forever—just long enough to help things heal and get back to normal. In some churches—especially where there’s a lot of brokenness or isolation—things like youth group or small groups can serve as a temporary support system. They help hold things together while health is being restored.
Second, I think of programs like supplements. Vitamins and creatine don’t replace real food. They’re there to support and strengthen good nutrition. Programs shouldn’t replace what should be happening naturally. Youth groups, for instance, don’t replace family discipleship—they support it. Small groups don’t replace hospitality and Christian friendship—they supplement it.
If you have a church with fractured families, scattered people, and no habits of gathering, small groups can be a helpful cast or supplement. But if you’ve already got strong organic fellowship—people who are regularly inviting, showing hospitality, and living life together—then layering on a program might actually disrupt a good thing.
The Real Costs of Small Groups
Let me be clear: I’m not against small groups. They can absolutely be effective when done well. But they also come with significant challenges—especially in midsize churches like ours.
They require real infrastructure: trained leaders, oversight, accountability. Too often, small group leaders get pushed into low-grade pastoral roles without the training, support, or authority to carry the weight. That’s not fair to them or good for the group.
There’s also a practical challenge unique to our context: we’re a church with a lot of large families. It’s not uncommon for three or four families to show up with 20+ kids between them. That creates a real challenge for any kind of focused discussion. You either need separate childcare (which adds another layer of complexity) or you keep the kids in and deal with constant interruptions. Either way, it’s not simple.
So What Are We Doing Instead?
That’s why, at this point, we’ve chosen not to structure small groups at East River. Not because we don’t care about fellowship—we care deeply. But we’re trying to grow something organic, something natural and durable.
I think the better question isn’t “Do we have small groups?” It’s “Are we living as a body?” Are we bearing one another’s burdens? Are we praying together, helping each other move, watching each other’s kids, sharing meals, showing up in times of need?
A lot of that doesn’t need a formal meeting time or a study guide. It needs time, intention, and margin.
A BBQ and a Better Way Forward
This past Sunday, I hosted a small BBQ at my house—some members I know well, some I’m just starting to get to know. As a busy bivocational pastor, I can’t always sit down with every family I want to. So Emily and I decided to start hosting BBQs twice a month. Nothing fancy—just time together with our people.
I think that kind of thing is reproducible and powerful. So here’s a simple plan we encourage:
Every other Sunday: Invite two families over for lunch or dessert. We’ve found three total households (including yours) is the sweet spot. One-on-one can feel intense for some people—especially introverts. Three keeps the conversation flowing and lowers the pressure.
1–2 evenings a month: Have a family or two over for dinner or a relaxed hangout. Don’t overthink it. Just open the door and be present.
1–2 casual meetups a month: Get coffee or lunch with someone you want to know better. If your house isn’t an option, meet at a park. Presence matters more than polish.
This kind of regular hospitality doesn’t replace discipleship. It creates space for it.
Down the Road
Down the road, I’m not closed off to structured small groups. If we see a real need—and we have the right people and resources—we’ll revisit the idea. But right now, I’d rather see our church thrive in ordinary faithfulness. Not just attending another program, but actually doing life together.
Start with names. Learn stories. Open your home. That’s the kind of church we’re trying to be.
Where names are known, stories are shared, needs are met, and fellowship happens around dinner tables and backyard firepits.
Programs can support the body—but they can’t be the body. That takes people showing up for each other, over and over, in the rhythms of real life.
Spot on.
I’m just a lay person, but my wife and I have been doing this exact layout since Covid- and it is extremely effective.