The Math of Mission: Why Almost Doesn’t Count

There’s a moment in Yellowstone where Rip Wheeler—gritty, loyal, and often unfiltered—delivers a line that punches harder than most Sunday sermons:

“Well, it’s hard to measure an ‘almost’ because ‘almost’ doesn’t matter.”

It’s a line that’s stuck with me—not just because it sounds cool coming from a cowboy in a black hat, but because it calls out a hard truth. In life, and especially in ministry, almost is deceptive. It looks like progress, it feels like momentum, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t add up to transformation.

And that’s the problem we face in the church. We’re counting all kinds of things—but are we measuring the right ones?

Inputs vs. Impact

Ask most churches for their metrics and you’ll hear about inputs:

• Attendance

• Volunteer hours

• Budget size

• Number of events

• Meals served

These are not bad things to track. They tell us we’re doing something. But are they telling us whether we’re making disciples? Whether our mission is actually impacting lives and communities?

We tend to count what we can control, not what we’re called to cultivate.

That’s where the math of mission gets tricky. It’s not just about how many people showed up. It’s about how many people are showing signs of growth, surrender, service, healing, reconciliation. That’s harder to quantify—but not impossible.

The Discipleship Deficit

Discipleship is inherently relational, slow, and deeply personal. It doesn’t always scale the way we want. And it certainly doesn’t play well with modern obsessions with efficiency or instant results.

But discipleship has fruit. It always has. Jesus made that clear:

“You will know them by their fruits.” — Matthew 7:16

Not by their potential. Not by their busyness. Not by their almost. By their fruit. So why don’t we measure it?

Maybe because it’s subjective. Maybe because it’s slower. Maybe because it challenges our programs, our preaching, and our priorities.

But if we don’t start measuring formation, we’ll settle for activity—and assume the two are the same.

The Math That Matters

What if we started practicing a different kind of math in our churches?

• Not just how many small groups we launched, but how many group members are taking spiritual risks.

• Not just how many people we served, but how many of us learned to see the face of Christ in those we served.

• Not just how many gave financially, but how many are living more generously in every area of life.

This kind of math doesn’t show up on spreadsheets easily. But it shows up in testimonies, changed priorities, reconciled relationships, baptisms, and callings answered.

This is the math of mission. It’s slow. It’s sacred. And it’s worth doing.

Measuring What Matters

Here are some questions we could begin asking to help gauge impact, not just effort:

• How has someone’s understanding of Jesus changed this year?

• Are people learning to pray differently or more deeply?

• Have we helped people name and take their next step in following Christ?

• Are we seeing people forgive one another, or cross cultural boundaries, or speak up for justice?

• What new burdens or callings are people discovering because of this community?

This isn’t about abandoning numbers. It’s about making sure our numbers align with our mission, not just our methods.

Because ‘Almost’ Doesn’t Matter

Rip was right. “Almost” doesn’t matter.

Almost making a disciple isn’t making a disciple.

Almost forgiving someone isn’t freedom.

Almost serving doesn’t transform a community.

The mission of God is too urgent and too sacred to settle for almost.

We need a church that’s not afraid to look honestly at the fruit—and to make the hard changes if that fruit isn’t there. Because when Jesus talks about pruning, He’s not trying to be poetic. He’s trying to teach us how growth works.

A Way Forward

Here’s a challenge for ministry leaders, pastors, and teams: This season, don’t just ask, What did we do? Ask, What difference did it make?

Track stories.

Collect testimonies.

Look for fruit.

Build a dashboard that holds space for transformation, not just transactions.

And if what you find is uncomfortable or underwhelming—good.

It means you’ve got a place to start.

Because the math of mission is holy math.

It’s multiplication, not just addition.

It’s sowing and reaping, not just planning and promoting.

And it doesn’t settle for almost.