Gentle Work of Planting
I have been grateful for Bishop Phil Ashey’s steady focus on church health and church planting—his conviction that mission must be both bold and ordered, courageous and charitable. His vision has prompted me to ponder again what it means to multiply healthy congregations in ways that strengthen rather than strain the Body of Christ.
The Church must wrestle with questions that are not only strategic but deeply pastoral. How do we plant new congregations without wounding existing ones? How do we pursue mission with zeal while guarding the bonds of communion? How do we discern together rather than merely decide apart?
These questions are not abstract to me. They touch the daily lives of priests and people, the stability of parishes, and the witness we offer to a watching world. My own love for church planting is personal as well as theological. Years ago my doctoral work focused on missiology—reaching people in a post-Christian culture—and Dawn and I were called to move to London, England to help plant a congregation that, by God’s grace, is still serving its neighborhood twenty-six years on. For the past thirteen years the Lord has placed me as Rector and Dean of All Saints Anglican Cathedral, and it is our shared desire to live as a resource congregation for mission within our deanery and across the Diocese. I write, then, as one who believes deeply in multiplication and who longs to see the Gospel take flesh in new communities—and also as a parish priest who knows how fragile trust can be when process and relationship are neglected.
Mission Should Feel Like Birth, Not Rupture
When a new congregation is planted, the experience ought to resemble a birth—joyful, collaborative, and blessed by the wider family. If it begins to feel like a split, something has already gone wrong. The difference between those two experiences is rarely about doctrine or intention; it is usually about communication, shared discernment, and proximity.
Healthy mission requires more than vision. It requires the patient work of listening to those who will be affected, honoring existing relationships, and ensuring that new life does not unintentionally destabilize old life. Good intentions alone are not enough. Process is pastoral.
Proximity Is Never Neutral
In places where people drive rather than walk, distance functions differently than it once did. A few miles can mean overlapping neighborhoods, shared friendships, and common networks of care. Planting close to an existing parish may be necessary at times if planted close to the sending church, but it is never neutral. It shapes stewardship, pastoral responsibility, and the choices ordinary Christians must make.
The question is not whether people are free to choose where they worship—they are—but whether leaders have done everything possible to prevent those choices from becoming painful or confusing. Mission strategy must take geography seriously, not only theology.
I often hear the language of “targeting the unchurched” as though that alone resolves concerns about overlap. Yet real life is rarely so tidy. People arrive at church because of relationships, convenience, and trust. They do not come labeled by demographic category. Once spiritual bonds are formed, asking them to redirect elsewhere can place clergy and congregants in impossible positions.
Anglican mission has never been detached from Anglican order. Evangelism flourishes best when it grows within the soil of diocesan communion—where bishops, priests, and laity discern together rather than apart. To separate mission from polity is to divide what our tradition has wisely held together. And when we truly discern, collaborate, communicate, and pray together, we gladly send people to join new works so that more lives may be reached with the Gospel.
The Gift of Shared Discernment
Most tensions around church planting do not arise from bad hearts but from hurried processes. When decisions are made without consulting those most affected, even generous initiatives can feel imposed. Shared discernment is not a bureaucratic obstacle; it is an act of charity.
Our polity assumes that rectors, bishops, and lay leaders will speak to one another before actions are taken that materially affect a parish’s life. This is not about protecting territory; it is about protecting relationship and living into Anglican values and practices. Inclusion honors canonical responsibility and strengthens the credibility of mission.
Toward Practices That Heal Rather Than Strain
What might help us move forward?
Early conversation with neighboring clergy before locations are chosen
Realistic attention to distance in contexts shaped by car culture
Transparent communication with laity about intentions and impact
Diocesan frameworks that guide planting with pastoral wisdom
Patience to delay when relationships need tending first
Such practices do not hinder mission; they humanize it. They ensure that new churches arise as gifts to the Body rather than as sources of confusion.
Choosing the Better Way
Every generation must learn again how to hold zeal and charity together. The Church does not belong to any of us, and yet we are entrusted with her care. When we plant with humility—listening before acting, collaborating before announcing, blessing before building—we offer the world a picture of authority shaped by love.
I remain hopeful. I have seen leaders choose the slower, harder path of reconciliation. I have watched new congregations flourish when they were birthed in communion rather than in haste. These stories remind me that the Spirit still guides the Church when we make room for one another.
The Field Before Us
The greater Los Angeles region holds somewhere between eighteen and twenty-five million souls, depending on how one draws the map—and only a small handful of Anglican congregations. The fields are ready for harvest, and there are countless neighborhoods where the Gospel has yet to take Anglican flesh. We do not lack places to plant with intention; we lack laborers formed and sent in communion. May God raise up pastors, planters, and lay leaders who will go gladly to those places—supported by their bishops, strengthened by their sending parishes, and carried by the prayers of the whole Church—so that many who do not yet know Christ may come to know His mercy.
May the Lord teach us to plant in peace, to speak the truth in love, and to pursue mission in a way that strengthens rather than strains the Body of Christ. In a region of such vast need, may every new community be received not as a rupture, but as a joyful extension of the one Church we share.
As we order our life for this work, may we plant in discernment, prayer, and trust, build in relationship and collaboration, send in communion, and reap a harvest worthy of His mercy.