What Was and What Could Be
This month, we reached the two-year anniversary of our son Joshua’s passing. I may share a fuller account of our journey here, but for context, here’s a high-level view of his story. On May 1st, 2023, Joshua was born with hypoplastic left heart syndrome, a rare and fatal heart condition that only gave him a 50/50 chance at survival. On May 18th, he crossed into eternity.
There is a perpetual ache that never fully goes away when you lose a child—a fierce longing for eternity. What I say next might sound strange, but bear with me. If you've ever been emotionally invested in a local church, especially one in need of revitalization—you know that ache, at least in part.
Let me explain.
When the life cycle of something ends, be it a person or a particular season with a community of faith, a holy tension exists. There is gratitude for what was and grief over what has been lost. Between the hope of what could be and the sobering reality of what now is.
It is far too easy to reduce church health down to the cold, brutal facts or magic bullet solutions. But to make church life about metrics and methods is reductionistic.
There is a very real and present grief when anything we love comes to an end. Maybe your church closed its doors, a significant change was made to your sanctuary, or the worship style changed. The end of something and the beginning of something else evoke grief. But even in the grief, there is an invitation from God to step into deeper and greater levels of trust—to step into the ancient story of the gospel, and to ultimately recognize the story of your church’s life has an author. And it isn’t you. When we live with that awareness, we can release our grip on the pen and embrace our role as a bit character in God’s story. But there has to be a release of what was if your church is going to embrace what will be.
The Data and the Dissonance
Statistically speaking, around 85% of American churches are plateaued or declining (Barna, 2023). Some stats show that 4,500 churches close their doors each year (some report as many as 7,000!). And yet, in almost every town, in nearly every neighborhood, you can still find a church building—a remnant of what used to be.
If you’re a pastor or church leader, you might be tempted to say “We’re doing fine” to preserve appearances. Or perhaps you’re on the opposite end of the spectrum. You’re overly pessimistic. You’ll quickly admit your church is dying.
But whether you're a head-in-the-sand optimist or stick-in-the-mud pessimist, the truth is, neither extreme elicits holy action. The question must become, what does faithfulness look like now?
Holding the Past with Honor, Embracing the Future with Courage
One of the most dangerous things a church can do in a revitalization process is to sever itself from its past. We wrongly assume revitalization means starting over. But as Jesus says in Matthew 13:52, “Every teacher of the law who has become a disciple in the kingdom of heaven is like the owner of a house who brings out of his storeroom new treasures as well as old.”
Revitalization doesn’t mean forgetting your church’s story. It means reclaiming it in light of Jesus.
It’s looking at the empty seats not as a sign of failure but as a space God might yet fill. It’s holding space for the people who are no longer there, not with bitterness, but with gratitude.
Revitalization as Resurrection
The early church didn’t grow because they nailed church strategy*. They didn’t have a five-year plan or a staff of six. They had the Spirit of the risen Christ and a commitment to radical faithfulness to Him.
Revitalization isn’t primarily a program. It is a reorienting of our affection and attention back to the One who calls our church on mission and partnering with Him in doing a work that only He can do: resurrection.
But here’s the thing about resurrection: it only comes after something has died.
If your church is in the tomb right now, it might feel hopeless–but you’re in exactly the right spot for resurrection.
Paul writes in Romans 8:11, “If the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, He who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies.”
If the Spirit of God can breathe life into Jesus, He can breathe life into your church, too.
A Benediction for the Church in the In-Between
So here’s to the churches in the in-between.
To the ones who aren’t what they used to be—but refuse to give up on what they still could be.
To the leaders who still show up every Sunday, praying for new life.
To the saints who stay and serve and sing even when the room is half full.
To the pastors who carry the ache of “what was” while believing in “what will be.”
May you grieve with hope.
May you lead with tenderness.
And may you remember—before the church was ever yours, she was always His.
Grace & Peace,
* I understand that this comment might come across as if I’m against strategy, but that’s not true at all! I got into church consulting because I genuinely believe that having a strategic plan is vital. So absolutely, let’s plan for the future together! Just remember to hold your plans lightly before God, trusting Him to do what only He can do. If you’re looking for a neutral voice that loves Jesus and truly cares for the local church, I would be thrilled to come alongside your community and help you navigate the next season in your ministry. Just click “About” to get more details and contact me learn more about the consulting services I offer.
