005 Widening the Circle

After these things the Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself was about to come.
—Luke 10:1

In Luke 10, Jesus does something that should unsettle every church leader. He expands the circle.

Up to this point, the focus has largely been on the twelve—those who are known, tested, and at least somewhat predictable. But here, Jesus appoints seventy others and sends them ahead of him into towns and places he intends to go.

He does not wait until they are fully formed. He does not ensure perfect theological clarity or consistent execution. He sends them because the need is greater than what a small circle can meet. “The harvest is plentiful,” he says, “but the laborers are few.” The solution is not tighter control or more efficient management. The solution is multiplication.

The Quiet Contradiction in Our Churches

Many of our churches live with a quiet contradiction. We say we want growth. We say we want impact. We say we want to reach more people and embody the love and justice of God more fully in our communities.

And yet, in practice, we structure our life together in ways that keep the circle small. As Christian communities shrink, something subtle but significant happens: control consolidates. Fewer people take on more responsibility. Leadership becomes narrower. Decisions become centralized. Over time, this arrangement begins to feel not only normal, but necessary.

We reinforce this pattern with familiar explanations. We do not have enough people. Our people are too old. People are too busy. These statements are not entirely untrue, but they often function as limiting assumptions rather than invitations to reimagine participation.

Instead of widening the circle, we adapt by tightening control. The system stabilizes, but it does not grow its ability to share God’s shalom in the world.

The Risk We Avoid

To widen the circle, then, is not simply a strategy. It is a righteous risk. It requires leaders to release control in ways that feel both impractical and unsettling. It means trusting people before they feel ready, accepting uneven outcomes, and allowing ministry to take forms we would not have chosen ourselves.

Beneath all of this is a deeper truth we rarely name: we often prefer a smaller system we can control over a larger mission we cannot.

This dynamic appears in subtle but revealing ways:

• A church considers merging with another congregation, but only if its own patterns, preferences, and structures remain largely unchanged.

• A ministry seeks to involve more people, but primarily those who already share its language, assumptions, or level of commitment.

• Leaders express a desire for help, but struggle to release meaningful responsibility.

These are not merely logistical challenges. They are indicators of how deeply control is embedded in our common life.

What Is Lost When the Circle Stays Small

If we are honest, the issue is not only what we hope to gain by widening the circle, but what we are currently losing by keeping it small. When participation is limited, gifts remain dormant. Leaders are never discovered. Communities go unserved. The burden of ministry falls on too few, and burnout becomes predictable rather than exceptional. Most significantly, the shalom of God—the wholeness, justice, and restoration God intends for the world—does not expand as it might. This is not simply an organizational problem; it is a missional one.

The Pattern of Jesus’ Ministry

Jesus Blesses

Luke’s Gospel offers a different pattern, one that culminates in the sending of the seventy but is prepared earlier in Jesus’ ministry. Before people are sent, they are first drawn into a community where they are seen, welcomed, and trusted. In Luke 9, when Jesus sends the twelve, he gives them power and authority. This is not something they earn; it is something they receive. The same dynamic carries forward in Luke 10. The seventy are not outsiders pressing in; they are participants who have already been brought near and invited into the work. To bless, in this sense, is to name belonging and to affirm that God can act through ordinary people.

Jesus Equips

From there, Jesus equips them. In Luke 10, he gives specific, actionable instructions: go in pairs, receive hospitality, offer peace, heal the sick, and proclaim the nearness of God’s kingdom. This is not exhaustive preparation. It is focused formation. They are not trained for every possible situation; they are prepared to take a faithful next step. This distinction matters. Many of our churches delay participation until people feel fully ready, when in fact growth often comes through engagement rather than prior mastery. To equip, in this sense, is to give people enough clarity, authority, and support to act faithfully now—trusting that deeper formation will come as they go.

Jesus Commissions

Jesus then commissions them. “The Lord appointed seventy others…” This is not casual or incidental. It is intentional and visible. They are recognized, entrusted, and directed. Commissioning clarifies that this work matters and that those who are sent are trusted to carry it forward. Too often, churches equip informally but fail to commission clearly, leaving people uncertain about their role and hesitant to act. To commission, in this sense, is to name people publicly, entrust them explicitly, and send them with clarity so they can act with public trust rather than quiet hesitation.

Jesus Sends

Finally, Jesus sends them. They are given real responsibility in real places with real people. They are not observing or assisting; they are participating. And when they return, their report is not polished or perfect, but it is genuine. They have experienced the work firsthand. They are learning by doing, discovering both the challenges and the power of participation. To send, in this sense, is to entrust people with real responsibility in real contexts, so that formation happens through participation rather than observation.

Learning Instead of Retreating

This pattern—bless, equip, commission, send—reveals something essential about how the mission of God expands. Jesus does not respond to need by doing more himself. He responds by involving more people. He redistributes responsibility. He trusts that the Spirit at work in him is not limited to him.

Of course, this kind of expansion is not without difficulty. At some point, widening the circle will not go as planned. Someone will struggle. A ministry effort will fall short. And the temptation will be immediate: “See? That didn’t work.” When that happens, many communities retreat quickly back to control, reinforcing the very patterns that limit growth.

But the alternative to imperfect participation is not excellence; it is stagnation. The call is not to abandon the effort, but to adopt a posture of learning. We adjust. We try again. We remain committed to the process.

A Small Shift That Changes Direction

I have seen this shift in my own ministry. For years, I led Prayer Labs that helped congregations grow in how they pray with and for one another. I would occasionally invite others to assist, but the work largely remained centered on me. It was good work, but it was also contained work.

Over time, I began to sense a quiet nudge—less about doing more, and more about making room. So I named a simple goal: not just to lead, but to help others lead. It was not a dramatic change, just a small act of intention, spoken out loud and held with some consistency.

What followed was not something I could have produced on my own. People stepped forward in ways I had not planned for. Gifts emerged that had been present all along. Leadership began to widen, not because I organized it perfectly, but because space had been created for it. The system did not change overnight, but something underneath it began to shift.

This is often how God works among us. Not always through sweeping change, but through small, faithful decisions that open new possibilities. A quiet movement from, “This might be helpful,” to, “This matters, and I am willing to take a step.”

And when that shift happens, something deeper is released. People are given room to respond. They grow into what they are invited to carry. And the work itself becomes clearer—not as one person’s project, but as a shared participation in what God is already doing.

Small shifts in intention, when offered to God and practiced over time, have a way of changing direction—and over time, direction changes everything.

The Work Before Us

Widening the circle is not about lowering standards or diminishing leadership. It is about redistributing participation in a way that aligns with the movement of the gospel itself. It is about trusting that God’s work expands when more people are blessed into belonging, equipped for action, commissioned with clarity, and sent into meaningful participation.

But this will not happen on its own.

It will require leaders to make a decision.

Not a general desire for more involvement.
Not a hope that more people will step forward.

A decision to release control.

A decision to trust that others can carry real responsibility.
A decision to create pathways where none currently exist.
A decision to act, even when the outcome is uncertain.

Because the truth is this: the church does not lack people. It lacks clear, meaningful ways for people to participate in God’s work.

And until that changes, the circle will remain small—no matter how much we hope otherwise.

So the question is not whether more people could be involved.

The question is whether we are willing to change what must be changed so that they can be.

Who will you bless?
Who will you equip?
Who will you commission?
Where will you send them?

And perhaps most importantly:

What are you still holding onto that is keeping the circle from widening?

The harvest is still plentiful.

The question is whether we are willing to become the kind of church that sends.