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Boutique & Beautiful Churches

  • Writer: Peter Carolane
    Peter Carolane
  • Jun 26
  • 14 min read

Why does church size matter? Beyond mere attendance numbers, the size of a congregation profoundly shapes its culture, mission, and the experience of its members. This article will explore the inherent dynamics of church size, building on Tim Keller's foundational insights into urban ministry and church growth. I will then extend this discussion by adapting thinking from the degrowth movement, arguing that churches should reconsider the endless pursuit of size. Just as writers such as Jason Hickel and Giorgos Kallis challenge the notion of infinite economic expansion on a finite planet, I will explore how an unrestrained drive for numerical church growth can lead to spiritual and relational imbalances. Keller places no moral value on church size, but I want us to consider that, as per the assumptions of the degrowth movement, there might be ‘moral’ or at least strategic dangers for large and very large churches (to use Keller’s categories). Instead of assuming bigger is better, I want to advocate the case of the “small” church (50-200 in size): that instead of mindlessly aiming for “big and boring” churches we might do better to create churches that are “boutique and beautiful.” 


I first encountered this leadership framing of "big and boring" and "boutique and beautiful" from a former CEO of one of Australia's largest not-for-profit agencies and another former CEO of one of Australia's largest health insurance providers. Both leaders understood the inherent strengths and weaknesses of organisational scale. They could see that sometimes a compelling case existed to keep your organisation (or church) smaller. 


In fact, I will go beyond simply arguing for smaller churches and demonstrate how a collection of these smaller churches working together (like we have at Merri Creek Anglican), can capture some of the benefits of larger-scale churches while having the benefits of the smaller congregation. This networked approach provides a third way between the isolation of independent small churches and the potential impersonality of larger models, giving church leaders a sense of empowerment and control over their community dynamics.


Church Size Dynamics: Laying the Groundwork for Deeper Questions

In his influential paper Leadership and Church Size Dynamics: How Strategy Changes with Growth (2006), Tim Keller explains how church strategy and culture shift with growth. With the strengths that come from scale, he also points out the inherent trade-offs. As congregations expand beyond their intimate beginnings, they undergo a profound culture change that alters their internal culture and the leadership skills required to guide them. The transformation from a small, close-knit fellowship to a large, complex organisation represents far more than simply scaling up existing structures. Instead, it demands an entirely different approach to ministry, communication, and community building that often bears little resemblance to the pastoral model that served the church in its earlier days.


Keller explains that the most immediately visible change comes from increased organisational complexity and staffing needs. Larger churches must accommodate significantly more diverse congregational needs, requiring more programs and a higher ratio of staff members to handle the intricate web of ministries, communications, and administrative tasks. This complexity necessitates a fundamental shift in how the staff and council make decisions and how the church provides pastoral care. While smaller churches typically rely on broad congregational input and pastoral accessibility for significant decisions, growing churches must increasingly centralise decision-making authority within their professional staff. Paradoxically, even as administrative decisions move upward to paid ministers, the actual work of pastoral care—hospital visits, discipleship meetings, and personal counselling—flows downward to trained lay leaders who can provide the intimate, personal touch that professional staff can no longer offer to every member.


Perhaps most challenging for church leaders is recognising that informal, spontaneous approaches to welcoming newcomers, recruiting volunteers, and maintaining communication simply cannot scale effectively. What worked beautifully when everyone knew everyone else's name becomes inadequate when faced with hundreds or thousands of congregants. Successful large churches must develop systematic, intentional processes for every aspect of community life, from first-time visitor follow-up to leadership development programs. This shift toward formalisation often feels foreign to pastors and lay leaders who cherish smaller congregations' organic, family-like atmosphere.


The role of the senior minister undergoes the most dramatic transformation of all. The shepherd who once knew every sheep by name must evolve into a vision-casting leader specialising in preaching, strategic planning, and organisational development. This transition requires different skills and a willingness to accept that pastoral intimacy with the entire congregation is no longer possible or desirable. Simultaneously, large churches develop a greater tolerance for change and member turnover, understanding that growth often requires implementing new procedures and ministry philosophies that may prompt some longtime members to seek more familiar ground elsewhere. This represents a significant cultural shift from the smaller church mentality that often prioritises unity and stability over innovation and expansion.


The thriving large church culture depends heavily on congregational trust in professional leadership and a clear, compelling vision that attracts and retains members who share common values and goals. As staff members become increasingly specialised and decision-making becomes more centralised, congregants must learn to place their faith in God and the pastoral team's ability to guide the church wisely. This trust becomes the invisible foundation upon which the entire complex structure of a significant church ministry rests, enabling thousands of people to worship, serve, and grow together despite never sharing the intimate bonds that once defined their smaller spiritual family.


Despite the challenges with growing, many–if not most–church leaders function with the assumption that bigger is better. Larger congregations reflect well on the leader: people want to be part of a rapidly growing church. But Contemporary movements in economics, ecology, and social justice are challenging the fundamental premise that growth always represents improvement. These critiques raise profound questions about whether religious communities, like other institutions, might benefit from reconsidering their relationship with size, complexity, and expansion. The degrowth movement, in particular, offers a framework that could reshape how churches think about success, sustainability, and faithful stewardship.


The Degrowth Movement

The degrowth movement radically reimagines economic success, challenging the assumption that endless growth equals progress. This comprehensive philosophy advocates for a planned reduction of energy and resource consumption in wealthier nations, arguing that our relentless pursuit of GDP growth is fundamentally incompatible with ecological sustainability and social justice.



Jason Hickel
Jason Hickel

At its core, degrowth contends that capitalism's drive for perpetual expansion fuels the climate crisis, biodiversity loss, and deepening inequality. Leading voices like economic anthropologist Jason Hickel emphasise that this isn't about creating recession or reducing all economic activity, but instead scaling down destructive and socially unnecessary production while reorganising the economy around human needs rather than corporate profits.



Giorgos Kallis
Giorgos Kallis

The movement's intellectual foundations draw from thinkers like Giorgos Kallis, who introduced degrowth scholarship to English-speaking audiences, and the French Economics Professor Serge Latouche, who reignited interest in building a society where people can live better while working and consuming less. Their work demonstrates that human well-being can be significantly improved with far fewer resources than high-income nations currently consume.


Degrowth proposes transformative policy changes that fundamentally reshape how we measure and pursue prosperity. Instead of fixating on GDP, advocates propose welfare indices that account for inequality and environmental impacts. They envision shorter working weeks that distribute labour more evenly while improving mental health and gender equality. Universal basic services would decommodify essential needs like healthcare, education, and housing, allowing people to live well without requiring high GDP levels. Hickel explains,


When people live in a fair, caring society, where everyone has equal access to social goods, they don't have to spend their time worrying about how to cover their basic needs day to day – they can enjoy the art of living. And instead of feeling they are in constant competition with their neighbours, they can build bonds of social solidarity. — Jason Hickel, Less is More

The movement also calls for reclaiming shared resources from privatisation, developing cooperative systems of provisioning, and implementing taxation that shifts the burden from income to consumption and wealth. A climate job guarantee mobilises workers for crucial collective projects like installing renewable energy and ecosystem regeneration.


Unlike "green growth" advocates who believe technology can decouple economic expansion from environmental impact, degrowth thinkers remain sceptical of such promises. They argue that green growth often relies on speculative technologies and perpetuates imperialistic practices, such as land appropriation in developing nations for carbon offset projects.


The movement's anti-imperialist orientation recognises that Global North consumption historically drives exploitation in the Global South. By reducing consumption in wealthy countries, degrowth aims to create space for developing nations to meet their development goals within planetary boundaries.


While critics worry about economic disruption and political acceptability, degrowth proponents maintain that a post-growth world would improve overall well-being, increase access to essential services, and lift people globally into human dignity while respecting ecological limits.


Implications for Churches

Many of degrowth's core values align closely with traditional Christian teachings about stewardship, simplicity, and concern for the poor. The movement's emphasis on community well-being over individual accumulation resonates with biblical calls to love one's neighbour and care for creation. Churches could become vital spaces for modelling alternative economic relationships through cooperative initiatives, community gardens, tool libraries, and mutual aid networks. However, degrowth also challenges prosperity theology and consumer-driven church culture, requiring congregations to examine how their practices and priorities might need to shift toward sustainability and justice rather than numerical or financial growth.


Big and Boring

When I started working in ministry at a large Anglican church, I heard some of the older ministry staff say that church leaders who argued to keep their church small for “mission effectiveness” simply made a virtue of their lack of leadership skills. (This was a bit harsh, but perhaps true in some cases.) If done with intention and a clear strategy, I would want to be more generous and nuanced and say there is a case for keeping a church smaller. But for now, let’s consider the strengths and weaknesses–the culture and dynamics–of a large church (500+).


Large churches offer distinct advantages for spiritual growth and community impact. Their substantial membership enables comprehensive programming—diverse ministries for different demographics, specialised support services, and extensive outreach initiatives that smaller congregations simply can't afford. Greater resources mean skilled pastoral staff, professional-quality worship experiences, and facilities supporting everything from youth ministry to media teams. These highly resourced churches can build up other neighbouring churches by offering resources, benefiting the broader Kingdom of God. The anonymity possible in larger settings also appeals to newcomers who want to explore faith gradually without immediate pressure for deep engagement.


However, as these churches grow, they inevitably face the "Big and Boring" syndrome—the trade-off where broad reach comes at the cost of distinctiveness and intimacy. Large churches must appeal to the broadest possible demographic, leading to increasingly generic programming and messaging. They gravitate toward safe, mainstream content to avoid alienating potential members, smoothing away edgy sermon series, challenging theological positions, and culturally specific worship styles in favour of broadly palatable approaches. In the worst case, vanilla Christianity emerges: inoffensive and accessible but lacking the sharp edges that create passion and deep engagement.


This genericisation extends to culture, with corporate-style communication, beige walls, grey carpets, and polished but impersonal experiences prioritising efficiency over authenticity. Members can feel like consumers rather than participants in a living community. The senior minister becomes a CEO rather than a shepherd, focusing on vision-casting while delegating actual ministry. Large churches also become tightly identified with their senior pastor, creating vulnerability when that leader departs. The challenge for any church is to recognise these trade-offs honestly rather than pretending they don't exist and choosing their path accordingly.


Boutique and Beautiful

By consciously limiting size or prioritising depth over breadth, a church can foster qualities that align with the degrowth movement’s vision of human flourishing and abundance beyond mere numbers. This "Boutique and Beautiful" approach focuses on cultivating a rich, intimate, and impactful community, even if it means reaching fewer people. It's about quality over quantity, depth over breadth, embodying the "less is more" principle that the degrowth movement champions.


This philosophy has shaped our growth strategy at Merri Creek Anglican. While we experienced consistent growth in our Clifton Hill congregation, we recognised that expanding a single congregation would eventually compromise the intimate, family-like qualities that made our community so distinctive. Rather than pursuing unlimited growth in one location, we planted a second congregation in Fairfield. We believed this second congregation would allow our church to continue growing while maintaining two boutique and beautiful worshipping communities. Both congregations share the same leadership team, governance structure, and strategic priorities, yet they develop different local approaches because each community has unique needs, personality, and spiritual profile.


At the heart of this approach lies the profound advantage of deep relationships and strong community bonds. Smaller churches function as an "extended family" where everyone knows everyone else well, and the community is strong. This smaller size provides rich rewards of familial support and a profound sense of belonging. At Merri Creek Anglican, our Clifton Hill and Fairfield congregations embody this extended family dynamic, where members genuinely know one another's stories, celebrate life milestones together, and provide support during difficult seasons. This intimate environment makes personal pastoral care and mutual support a natural part of congregational life, fostering genuine connections that are difficult to replicate in larger settings. 


Such intimacy naturally enables personalised pastoral care that becomes the driving force of ministry in smaller contexts. In ‘small’ churches, the pastor knows their congregation; everyone knows and has access to them, and they offer care to everyone. At Merri Creek Anglican, our shared leadership team can provide this personalised attention across both congregations (both about 150 in size) because we've maintained manageable sizes. This direct, personal shepherding allows for tailored spiritual guidance, crisis intervention, and genuine discipleship that responds directly to individual needs, emphasising human needs rather than just a broad array of programs.


Small churches can cultivate a focused mission and clear vocation for the congregation in the community, allowing for ministries that align with the church's purpose and specific community needs. At Merri Creek, this principle has allowed both congregations to develop contextually appropriate ministries: our Clifton Hill and Fairfield congregations have distinct demographics, needs, and opportunities that are present in each neighbourhood. Clifton Hill has a lot of workers in their 30s and 40s, many of whom are married and have school-aged children (including many high schoolers), but there are also younger families with pre-schoolers. Conversely, Fairfield has more young adults, parents, and people living in commission housing and supported accommodation. At this size, the church can become visible and distinctive in their communities through their specialised ministry, carving out unique and impactful niches. 


This focused approach also cultivates high engagement and participation among members. While larger churches often emphasise the production quality in services and programs, smaller churches can foster greater participation, even if it means a less polished outcome. Members are more likely to be involved and feel personally responsible for ministries, leading to a stronger sense of ownership and shared purpose. 


The benefits extend to how newcomers experience authentic assimilation into the community. In a smaller church, newcomers are attracted to the warmth and existing relationships, with assimilation becoming more like adoption into a close-knit family, where new members can truly find a place to belong through intentional association with established members and leaders. It also allows for deeper integration that prioritises the quality of inclusion over sheer numbers.

Perhaps most significantly, small churches demonstrate remarkable resilience and stability. They tend to have little turnover because individual members feel they belong and are needed. They can prioritise stability over constant change, unlike larger churches, which constantly change and lose members who dislike new procedures or ministry philosophies. It's far easier to leave a large church, where nobody will notice if you haven't attended Sunday worship for a month. This inherent stability in smaller churches fosters a secure, enduring community that values social stability over volatile growth.


These advantages align with the boutique model in other sectors: specialised tech firms offering curated solutions, artisan bakeries providing high-quality, handcrafted goods, or independent films prioritising artistic vision over commercial appeal. These entities thrive on their distinctiveness and personalised approach, offering a premium experience to a select audience.


Not "Small and Strange"


The degrowth movement seeks a more just and sustainable global society rather than isolationism. Similarly, "boutique and beautiful" churches should not be small and strange, eccentric Christian clubs. Intentionally pursuing a limited size represents a strategic choice for depth and specific impact, not an excuse for insularity or disengagement from the wider world. Such a church should be inherently outward-looking by focusing on genuine human flourishing. 


A boutique and beautiful church must maintain gospel centrality, ensuring that the message of Jesus Christ remains relevant and compelling. This focus on depth includes deepening understanding and application of the gospel in daily life. While not aiming for mass appeal, the small church can remain genuinely welcoming to newcomers and culturally accessible within its chosen niche or community (the really large churches have to tell their welcomers and carpark attendants to smile and wave as if they were working at Disneyland, so as to project the illusion of familial warmth). Small churches should seek to have a unique flavour without being exclusive or alienating to those exploring faith.


Commitment to mission and evangelism remains essential. Intentional size limitation does not abdicate the Great Commission. A boutique church should actively engage in evangelism within its influence, seeing people come to faith and discipling them deeply. The mission might be highly focused, targeting specific demographics or engaging in unique forms of community service, but it remains outward-looking.


As a boutique church grows to its intentional limit and effectively disciples new believers, it should foster a planting mindset. Rather than building bigger facilities for the original congregation, the vision should encompass planting new, similar boutique churches or sending members to strengthen existing ones. This ensures that the deep, beautiful qualities of the boutique church community are reproduced and extended rather than becoming self-contained. The degrowth movement wants systemic change rather than singular examples of localised growth.


The small church's distinctiveness should be rooted in robust theological understanding and commitment to spiritual formation, not quirky or strange preferences. Its beauty lies in faithfulness, deep community, and transformative impact on individuals. The danger of becoming an eccentric Christian club arises when a church isolates itself, prioritises internal preferences over gospel mission, or lacks a clear vision for how its unique qualities contribute to the broader Kingdom of God.


A Mixed Ecology

In response to the evolving cultural landscape and a noticeable disengagement from traditional religious institutions, particularly across the West and within Anglican and other mainline denominations, churches are increasingly pushing for a mixed ecology approach. This strategy moves beyond a one-size-fits-all model, aiming to offer a buffet of many different styles and possibilities for Christian congregations. The core impetus is to diversify how the church engages with its community, allowing the gospel to be expressed and translated in various languages and forms. This enables the church to reach new people and cultures with fresh approaches: groups who might not connect with traditional structures, including those who are de-churched or un-churched. 

The strengths of this mixed ecology approach are manifold, aligning with the degrowth movement’s emphasis on diversified and sustainable systems that prioritise well-being. It fosters diversity and inclusivity by providing accessible entry points that reflect community interests and needs. It emphasises resourcefulness and sustainability, as new expressions can often rely on existing inherited church resources and are frequently lay-led, requiring very little administration. This model promotes an incarnational and relational focus, encouraging ministry in the messiness of everyday life through deep listening and prioritising relationships and service before formal church formation. Furthermore, it shifts towards empowering lay leadership, with clergy acting as coaches and mentors. This cultivates a both/and mindset, aiming for mutual flourishing where inherited and new forms of church collaborate rather than compete, and fosters an adaptable, learning culture that embraces experimentation and even "failure toasts" — the celebration of ministry attempts that didn’t work.


Conclusion: Embracing Diverse Expressions of the Church for True Flourishing

Drawing on Keller's understanding of church dynamics and extending it through the degrowth framework, we see that church size is not merely an outcome but a strategic choice with profound implications for its spiritual health and mission. The "Big and Boring" church, while capable of wide impact and broad appeal, faces inherent challenges in maintaining intimacy and specific identity, often replicating the pitfalls of an unchecked growth paradigm that Hickel critiques. Conversely, the "Boutique and Beautiful" church, by intentionally limiting its size and resisting the "growth imperative," can foster deep, authentic relationships, personalised pastoral care, a clear and focused mission, and high member engagement. This approach prioritises human flourishing and a truly "abundant" community experience, rooted in qualitative richness rather than numerical expansion, echoing the degrowth movement’s vision for a society that prioritises well-being over GDP.


Crucially, this pursuit of "boutique and beautiful" is not an embrace of insularity or a retreat from mission. It is a strategic decision to cultivate a vibrant, gospel-centered community that prioritises depth and genuine connection, while still being committed to reaching the lost and multiplying its impact through discipleship and, eventually, church planting. This multiplication is not about building a single ever-larger institution, but about reproducing flourishing, distinct communities, thereby spreading the "abundance" of deep Christian fellowship in a sustainable and human-centred way.


I don’t want to go so far as to say there is a “best” size for a church. However, I have argued that the deliberate choice to cultivate a smaller, more intimate setting can lead to a richer and more fulfilling experience for its members. As church leaders and congregants, understanding these inherent strengths and weaknesses allows for a more nuanced and appreciative view of the diverse ways God builds His church. The question for every congregation, then, is not simply "how can we grow?" but "what kind of church are we called to be, and how can we best foster flourishing within that calling, faithfully engaging in mission and evangelism, and ultimately reproducing healthy communities, regardless of individual size?" This question, framed by the insights of the degrowth movement, encourages us to redefine success in terms of spiritual abundance and genuine human flourishing, rather than mere numerical expansion as an end.


 
 
 

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