The Rock grows beyond the church of hard knocks

The Rock Christian Church’s website sets a daunting goal: establish 10 churches in 10 years. But, as lead pastor Chris Tong points out, after 10 years, the first church hasn’t been fully planted yet.

“To be quite honest, we’re not even sure of what that looks like,” he admits.

Tong attributes the delay to the Great Recession, and remembers a time in 2008 when the church had $200 in the bank. Today, its operating account holds $30,000, with nearly $200,000 set aside for a building fund, Tong said.

And people keep coming, sometimes checking their Yelp apps for reviews, en route to the church for the first time.

“We have the cheesiest website, but people are reading the Yelp reviews,” he says. The church’s big marketing draw in the early days was a sign on the street.

Founded in 2005 with a launch group of 24 people from Warm Springs Baptist Church (now Life Springs Christian Church) in Las Vegas, the nondenominational Rock is loosely affiliated with the Baptist convention. It outgrew its niche at Steele Elementary School, and moved to Desert Oasis High School at 6600 W. Erie Ave. in Las Vegas. This past April marked the grand opening.

Attendance hovers around 160 to 170 on a Sunday. But the church doesn’t keep membership rolls.

“We pretty much tell people, if you come three times in a row, you’re family,” Tong says.

Multiplying disciples, reproducing churches and making a difference by loving the community are among the goals. And, the “rough journey” of planting during the recession taught a lesson that’s been valuable along the way, Tong says. That lesson: “how dependent we are upon God who called us to do this, even though the going gets tough.”

On a recent Sunday at The Rock, churchgoers — including young families and gaggles of teens — gather around tables decked out with doughnuts and crackers. They’re engaged in a discussion period during the service.

“One of the most segregated parts of Christian life is in that one hour of church,” Tong says. “Where you don’t even talk to the person sitting next to you, in front of you, or behind you. Our goal is to open our eyes and expand our peripheral in recognizing the people around us. In doing that on Sunday, hopefully that transitions into Monday through Saturday.”

Although some people who’ve been used to megachurch settings might be put off by discussions during the service, many settle in after the newness wears off.

“At The Rock, we say that following Christ is going to mean that sometimes things are going to be turned upside down,” says Derek Frederickson, an intern who hopes to become a pastor.

He and his wife, Sarah, have been attending The Rock for three years.

Frederickson was born a Mormon, but had a change of heart while serving a two-year Mormon mission in Mississippi, name tag, bike, helmet and all. He says he was excommunicated.

“Pastor Chris has taken me under his wing, and allowed me to grow in my call to preach the Gospel,” he adds.

Whether discoursing on Jesus in the fighting ring, “cop haters” and “thug haters,” the first century mindset of the Bible, or extending the definition of worship to include acts of kindness and love, Tong understands the call of the underdog.

He and his wife, Vicki Lynn, were members of Warm Springs Baptist Church for 13 years. Tong was also a youth pastor there. But when he initially made his approach about planting a new church, he says, he was told that no one on staff was qualified. With tail tucked, he went back to praying with his wife.

Six months later, he remembers, “we went there and pretty much said this: God’s calling us to do this, and we can’t reject it. So we’re going to plant a church, with or without your help.” Help was offered. The Rock’s launch group — all from Warm Springs Baptist — materialized at a church Vision Night.

Fast forward to The Rock’s recent move to Desert Oasis High School. Just a few months before the move, Tong heard grim tidings from other pastors. Six churches had also tried their hand in the area. Four folded; two moved away.

Although there was fear, he says, “we’ve been in this place before, with the $200 in the bank account.”

He’s also clear that while some intentions haven’t worked out as planned, they’ve had their own way of working out.

At the outset, Tong says, “we were all hip on this phrase, ‘postmodernism.’ And trying to reach the postmodern group. We desperately failed.” But the church has created bridges across generations and ethnicities, with some teens joining adult group meetings during the week — and jumping right into the mix of existential questions.

While there’s a nursery and a Kid’s Rock program, children are also encouraged to join their parents for worship during the service.

That’s been part of the appeal for Brandi Jurolan, a Wal-Mart night-shift supervisor. He, his wife, Joyce, and children, 8-year-old Elijah and 2-year-old Aviya, have been attending for more than a year.

“I believe in monkey see, monkey do,” Jurolan says. “They see us worship.”

Joe Ancheta, a sales engineer for mechanical systems, adds, “A lot of churches today are starting to recognize that it’s about discipleship. Not just coming here for a program or a service.”

He and his wife, Sarah, dedicated their 5-month-old daughter, Audrey, on Mother’s Day.

“We’re on this journey, and we’re learning as we’re going on,” Tong says. “We’ll be honest with you. We don’t plan to be a megachurch. We plan to reproduce churches. And we plan to partner with others to plant churches.”

For more information, go to www.therocklv.com.