Navigating Small Group Bible Studies: A Personal Struggle
The folly of striving. Why so pervasive? I believe the Lord makes it clear in His Word.
I’ve wrestled with this for some time now. There’s something in me that longs to be part of a small group—a place where believers come together, open the Word, and encourage one another. But time and again, I’ve found myself in groups where the conversation is laced with works-based sanctification, self-effort, and moralistic striving rather than the joy and freedom of the abiding life. And if I’m honest, it’s painful.
I sit there, listening, knowing that Christ is our life (Galatians 2:20), that we are called to rest in Him rather than strain in our own effort (Hebrews 4:10), and yet I hear people speak as if they must somehow achieve what Christ has already provided. My heart aches. Everything in me wants to interject, to shift the conversation toward grace, to point to the sufficiency of Christ. But I know that if I spoke every time my heart stirred, I would dominate the discussion, turning the group into a theological debate rather than a place of mutual encouragement.
So, I stay silent more than I speak. And when I do speak, I try to be careful, offering truth in love, praying that something will take root. Sometimes, I see glimpses of hunger in the eyes of a few—those who seem drawn to the grace-oriented perspective I share. And then I wonder: Is that why I’m here?
A Biblical Dilemma: Staying or Moving On?
I think about Jesus, who often spoke in synagogues where many rejected Him but where some believed (Luke 4:16-30). I think about Paul, who entered synagogues and reasoned with people, staying as long as there was openness but leaving when opposition hardened (Acts 18:4-6). There’s precedent for engaging in environments that may not fully align with the exchanged life, as long as there’s a readiness in some to receive.
But then I wonder: Am I merely creating division?
Would it be better to remain with my Monday night study, where I can speak freely, where the truth of abiding in Christ is understood and celebrated? Or is there a purpose in being in these groups, even if only for a season, to offer a different perspective to those who might be searching?
A thought crossed my mind—what if I attended as many small groups as possible for a short time, introduced the abiding life, and then moved on? On one hand, it seems strategic: plant seeds, see who is interested, and then disciple them one-on-one. But something about that approach feels off, as if I’d be infiltrating rather than ministering.
The Difference Between Strategy and Surrender
Paul never infiltrated. He followed the Spirit’s leading. He reasoned with people as long as there was an openness, and when there wasn’t, he moved on—not because of a calculated strategy, but because the Spirit led him elsewhere. That’s where I sense the tension in my own thinking.
If I were to hop from group to group as a mission of my own design, looking for those who resonate with grace, would I be acting out of my own wisdom or truly being led? Would I be trying to manufacture disciples rather than allowing God to bring them to me?
Instead of forming a strategy, I believe the Lord is calling me to something much simpler:
Be available where He places me.
Speak when He prompts me.
Trust Him to draw those who are hungry.
There’s nothing wrong with engaging in a small group that doesn’t fully align with my understanding—as long as the Spirit is leading me to be there. And there’s nothing wrong with stepping away when my presence no longer edifies or bears fruit. The key is listening, not planning. Trusting, not maneuvering.
Resting in His Direction
For now, I find deep joy and fulfillment in my Monday night study, where the exchanged life is not a foreign concept but the foundation of our discussions. And yet, I want to remain open to wherever God might place me—even if it means occasionally stepping into a group that doesn’t fully understand grace, just to see if there are hearts He’s drawing to Himself.
I don’t need a strategy. I need surrender.
Lord, I trust You to guide me. I trust that You will open the right doors, put the right people in my path, and give me the words to say in the moments You desire. I rest in Your sufficiency, knowing that You are the One who makes disciples—not me. Thank You for the freedom to follow rather than force, to listen rather than strategize, and to trust rather than toil. May my life be a reflection of Your grace, wherever You lead. Amen.