Small. It is a word that brings a sense of dread to many and disappointment to even more, for, who wants to remain small nowadays? A Business’ worth is measured by its growth; families desire to upsize; farmers want to grow big crops and have big yields; shops aim to open more stores, and churches long to outgrow their buildings.
There is nothing inherently wrong with the desire to grow, it is a natural desire that often has noble ends in view (growing God’s Kingdom, employing more people, feeding the world…). But problems start to arise when we try to transcend natural limits and when we neglect or dismiss what is small.
Small can be beautiful. Our God-given limits are designed for our good: they keep us grounded, humble, and allow us to confine ourselves to our roots and core responsibilities – the things we have been made for. Staying small helps us to notice the good, the beautiful, and the important all around us that the frantic-paced, ever-growing bigger life is apt to miss or neglect. Staying small can enable us to grow in what is truly valuable. Small is beautiful.
Over a series of essays, I want to explore why this is so. We need more small and limited things if we are to flourish, and this will mean more of us need to commit to remaining small. The result should be more small businesses, small farms, and small churches. The economic growth may not be spectacular, and the numerical growth may be indiscernible, but the social growth, the aesthetic growth, and the growth in virtue will more than compensate.
So, to begin the series, I shall explore how smallness allows us to know people, creatures, and things deeper, more intimately, and more fully.
Intimate knowledge
In his book Habits of the High Tech Heart, Quentin Schultze notes that modern-day society feigns intimacy by simply observing rather than participating1. We are surrounded by and saturated with second-hand (observed) knowledge through our use of technology (most notedly the internet and social media). Being surrounded by such knowledge is not necessarily an issue. However, we uncritically consume such knowledge and are addicted to it. This creates a ubiquitous phenomenon of ““cold intelligence” - a kind of knowing disengaged from the deeper drama of life”2. Schultze goes on to state “knowing about is merely the accumulation of mediated information, whereas knowledge of includes intimate understanding, seasoned judgement, and active participation.”3 This relates just as much to people as it does to non-human life and non-living things.
Intimate knowledge in contrast to second-hand knowledge is first-hand knowledge of someone (or something), including characteristics and flaws, unique situations and histories, and hopes and dreams. Knowing in this manner enables deep relationships that are conducive to mutual flourishing to form, and also allows for participation in the lives and futures of others. Moreso, it promotes an obligation to act in a loving, affectionate manner: for those whom we intimately know we are much more inclined to feel affection for, and thus treat them with the loving care and attention they deserve - leading to their flourishing.
Schultze rightly points the finger at informationalism4 as one of the chief causes of our ubiquity of superficial knowledge and observation - and its resultant social and moral ills. There is, however, another driver that pushes us away from knowing intimately, and that is our infatuation with big things and with growth.
Setting out the path
To demonstrate how smallness can be conducive to intimate knowledge, I am going to look at three sectors of society which I believe prosper when small: Small local businesses, agriculture, and church ministry. This is not an exclusive list; many other sectors benefit from being and staying small, but the limitations of the space in this essay and my own knowledge led me to confine my thoughts to these three sectors.
The local business
The small local butchers of bygone times were an immensely personal business. Until the dawn of the supermarket era, the proprietor exclusively served the meat requirements of his local community. The community relied on his business, and he relied on them. Often there was a mutual fondness between both butcher and customer, showing most keenly in how he knew his customers - he greeted them by name, he listened to their stories and news and told them his, and he became their friend. He remembered how they liked their meat cut, what their meat of preference was, and when they tended to shop. In many cases, he would have their order ready even before they set foot through the door (as local people can be creatures of habit in their shopping patterns). A customer left the shop not only with the feeling of being served but of being cherished - of being known. The butcher not only met their material needs but also their emotional and social needs. Both of their lives were made that little bit more beautiful because of the relationship forged on intimate knowledge.
This act of knowing was made possible by the small nature of the business. The footfall through a small shop such as his was irregular, there were busy times for sure, but more usual were the quieter times - allowing him to slow down and chat. The smallness of the community he served meant he could remember the names of most of his clients with ease and also their preferences and peculiarities of their orders. Finally, the fact he was his own boss - responsible to no higher shareholder - meant he wasn’t told off for these “inefficient” moments of conversation or his “wasteful” little gestures of giving “that little bit extra for free” or that “personal touch”.
Granted, not all local businesses act in such a benevolent manner, but I think you will find a significant number do. Also granted, it is not the smallness per se that is responsible for this benevolent orientation, some larger businesses have also mastered the art of exceptional customer service (although it often feels artificial and inauthentic). However, I still argue, that smallness is still more conducive to such good business practices of intimate knowledge, in that it brings people into closer proximity, allows for time to be spent getting to know one another, and because the shops are run by experts in their field and their localities - they know their products incredibly well (often having made them from start to finish with their own touch and unique flair) and are all too willing to share their wisdom and knowledge with their customers and anyone who wants to listen.
Small farm, small fields, small herds
As I have argued before, the good small-farm farmer (good is stressed as there are bad small-farm farmers) knows his fields and animals deeply and intimately. He can tailor his care to the known individual - their particular needs and idiosyncrasies - thus providing more appropriate care and allowing them to prosper. A large farmer may be an expert on cows in general but the small farmer is an expert on his own cows - and he knows many of them by name. He knows that Daisy is shy and can be bullied by the others, whereas Marjorie likes to assert dominance and can take too much food.
Contrast this to the profit-driven man with 10000 cows. What he sees are 10000s of four-legged ‘Units of Production’ and he deals with them in a standardised impersonal manner, ignoring their individual needs, and indeed making the individual practically invisible. What is invisible will receive no affection, as affection is by nature tailored to individual needs and preferences. Taking the effort to affectionally care for individual animals takes time and is thus inefficient when gross productivity is the basis by which efficiency is measured. But without affection animals will not flourish in the long term. What’s more, neglecting affection is a dereliction of the duty to care for the animals under our watch (Proverbs 12:10). Efficiency, according to virtue and the Bible, is a secondary or tertiary responsibility, subordinate to affection.
Additionally, the natural limits any farmer (large or small) is subjected to such as time, physical strength, and energy constrain the number of fields and livestock that a farmer can steward and know well. His knowledge can only be intimate of a small area, and it will be this area (and no more) that he can farm to the standard demanded of a good steward. That which he doesn’t know well will suffer neglect. The farmer who farms a large area single-handedly must spread out his work and attention over an extensive area. This means the quality of his work and the level of care and attention given per unit area decreases with every additional unit of land above the optimum area he can farm well. The farmer who through greed or market compulsion takes on more acreage than he can farm well is thus consenting to the degradation of his land and beast.
Contrast this to the good small-farm farmer. He knows his land intimately and knows what it is capable of. He won’t push it beyond its productive capacities, and in refraining from doing so he maintains its productive capacity for years to come. Neglected areas won’t be found on his farm, every square inch is precious and through constant care and hard intimate work he epitomises good stewardship. Eventually, when his earthly years draw to a close, he can pass on his fields and flock to the next generation in an even better state than when he took possession of them - all because he knew what was his intimately and acted appropriately.
As I caveated at the beginning, not all small-farm farmers farm in this convivial manner, some can be just as profit-driven as their larger rivals. However, even profit-driven small-farm farmers will have a deeper level of knowledge of their farm than the large farmer - and many will find the application of this knowledge increases their profits in the long haul.
Small church
The same dynamics of care, attention, and flourishing, following on the heels of intimate knowledge, play out in the most significant place on earth - the local church. Apart from the family, there is perhaps no other institution that knows its members as deeply as the church, and it is telling that the church is to function as a family. However, as those who have travelled and visited (or even been members of) many churches will know, not every church has achieved this familial way of knowing. I am though convinced that one of the main advantages of a small church is that this familial, intimate knowledge is easier to facilitate in a small church.
Even for those with poor memories (such as myself), it takes relatively little effort in a small church to know and remember everyone’s name. Armed with this knowledge we can greet, bless and pray for everyone by name. We all know the effect of someone greeting us by name feels more authentic and loving and leaves us feeling known and seen. In his letters, Paul went to great lengths to greet distant Christians by name - he obviously knew the importance of the effect this would have on the recipients. One such effect is a deepening of the affection between the greeter and the greeted, an affection that when allowed to grow, will more and more image the relationship Christ has with us - and be a witness to the world.
Perhaps, though, the most important person to know everyone by name in a church is the pastor. The small-church pastor is at a great advantage in knowing his flock. He can devote more of his limited time to each individual and has the potential to know the troubles, doubts, and fears of each member at a level that isn’t possible for the pastor of a large church. The small-church pastor can pray intelligently for the known needs of his flock -individual and corporate - and can witness first-hand how God resolves the problems that he brings before Him.
This intimate knowledge in a small church can be hard work. In a large church, it may not come to your attention that another member is struggling with mental health, or with finances, or going through a traumatic time in their family. This isn't necessarily wrong; it may just be an artefact of the size of the church. However, in a small church, almost everyone knows each other, and often intimately. The needs and suffering of fellow members are conspicuous and can’t be ignored. The call to “weep with those who weep and mourn with those who morn” will never be far from being called into action. In this broken world, where suffering for Christians is promised, trials, disasters, and mourning will be recurrent features of our lives. The small church member, therefore, is likely to be confronted with situations which demand the spiritually and emotionally sapping process of grief and burden bearing perhaps more often, or more unavoidably.
Not only that but in a small church, there are fewer reserves to draw from to help those who are in need. Small church members will thus find themselves needing to bear the burden of others more extensively and significantly. The small church member can’t simply say to their fellow member whose needs are right in front of them, “I am sorry that you are struggling”, and then walk on - love demands that help be given. This is also the case in a large church, but what I am arguing is that in a large church, the burden of help can be spread across more people, and therefore be less demanding of any one person. This is not the case in a small church, where there is no place to run and hide.
However, beauty can be found even in the hardships that intimate knowledge brings. It is through the giving of ourselves to others that Christ’s love is displayed, and through the heavy work of burden bearing, our characters are formed and pruned so that we come to reflect more clearly the life of our Master and Lord
To bring this to a close
Intimate knowledge is precious. Few things in life are more joyful than being seen, understood, and known, and a sense that others are participating with you on life’s journey. We all want it and need it. But such knowledge is also hard as the needs of others and the brokenness of the world become more visible and proximate, with the need to act becoming personal. But this too is a good thing. It is our calling to bring flourishing and healing to those areas of life in which we have been placed, and intimate knowledge gives us a worthy tool for this great task - affection. In a world full of loneliness and mental breakdowns, in a world divided by intense divisions and marred by conflict, we need affection in abundance - and the one thing that fosters affection perhaps more than anything else is intimate knowledge.
So, don’t simply observe from a safe or virtual distance the lives of those around you, choose which lives you should participate in, and position yourself near where this knowledge and participation can grow. Aim to enter into these lives and localities, know them deeply, grow in affection, and act accordingly.
To do all this, we may just have to commit to staying small.
Quentin J. Schultze, Habits of the High Tech Heart. Baker
Lewis Mumford, The Transformations of Man, Collier Books. (from Schultze, Habits of the High Tech Heart)
Schultze, Habits of the High Tech Heart.
Schultze defines ‘informationalism’ as the non-discerning faith in the collection and dissemination of information as a route to social progression and personal happiness. Amassing as much information as possible and using it efficiently is the grand all-encompassing objective.
Hadden, this was a wonderful article! I appreciate the way you lay out 'small' in business, farm, and church. We live on the edge of a town surrounded by Mennonite farmers and thus still have experience connection with a local butcher, a Mennonite-run store where we buy flour, bread, and eggs, and a strawberry farm where our kids can work on the field in the summer.
I would add small to 'school' as well. As you observe, "Few things in life are more joyful than being seen, understood, and known, and a sense that others are participating with you on life’s journey." Homeschooling can offer learning on a 'small' scale: connecting students more deeply to knowledge as they are allowed more time to delve into subjects; connecting them to a smaller group of friends across ages; and supporting a slower pace and closer connection to family.