If you ask the Rev. Scotty Ray about the two rural churches he pastors in western Nebraska, the first thing he will tell you is how much he loves the people. The second thing he’ll admit is that they’re old. In one congregation with attendance of 35 on a typical Sunday, seven are in their 90s.
Ray, a participant in the Moses Project, organized a special service honoring these nonagenarians last fall and invited them to select a favorite hymn for the service. One woman chose “I Love to Tell the Story,” which she’d performed as a soloist in that very church’s choir loft 82 years earlier.
The rural church is full of stories of traditions and memories like this one. Sometimes, however, it can seem that the rural church has more stories than people in the pews.
Like many rural congregations, Ray’s numbers are shrinking. So are their budgets, while local community services also dwindle. Rural public schools, hospitals, nursing homes and EMS services are straining to meet resident needs as cuts in federal funding force dollars to stretch even further.
In challenging times, it can be easy for pastors to feel guilty and respond by working harder and planning more activities to try to compel themselves and their congregations into a miracle turnaround. This formula is a recipe for burnout and exhaustion; it’s not a recipe for thriving.
The U.S. Department of Agriculture publishes a report each fall called “Rural America at a Glance.” It highlights social and economic trends in rural areas across the country. Key findings include:
- More people are moving to rural places. Since 2020, rural communities have experienced population growth, although the largest growth is among people older than 65 who have exited the labor force.
- Although people are moving to rural areas, the working-age population is shrinking.
- There’s an increase in counties where 20% or more of the population is 65 or older.
- Rural employment is growing and has nearly recovered to prepandemic rates; however, poverty disproportionately affects rural part-time workers.
- There is a growing eldercare industry, but services have not kept pace.
Rural communities have more people older than 65 and younger than 16 than in between. This increase in the population of older and younger people creates economic difficulties because of the missing middle.
What does this mean for rural pastors and their congregations, and how can a government report help rural pastors avoid burnout and feel a renewed sense of hope?
First, it’s not the pastors’ fault that rural churches are shrinking; there are fewer families living in small places and fewer financial resources to give. There is also more competition outside the church for those families. Youth sports, extracurricular activities and an emphasis on alternate community groups draw the limited number of families away from church.
Rather than stretching themselves too thin, pastors can creatively and gently invite their congregations to reflect on their history and current community needs. This emphasis on traditioned innovation, a way of thinking about the future that relies on the community’s identity in the past, allows congregations to foreground their values and identity and embrace new opportunities while acknowledging demographic realities.
When creating yearlong ministry plans, setting budgets and planning activities, pastors can communicate the data, including the missing middle, with their congregations and leadership team. People 65-plus may be living on a fixed income, and their tithing is based on limited financial resources. It is also impractical to expect service projects that demand more than the congregation can manage.
Finally, have realistic conversations about the gifts, ministries and emphases of the congregation. Pray, partner, be creative, ask the Spirit to provide in unseen ways and take risks, but do so because God is calling, not because the church refuses to acknowledge the demographics or the community’s changing identity and needs.
Renner Lutheran in rural South Dakota also has an aging population. The Rev. Laura Phillips, Moses Project mentor and former Renner pastor, knows this firsthand. Historically, the church had partnered with community organizations to provide food and basic necessities for neighbors in need. The problem? Those donations were collected in heavy boxes, and the aging congregation could no longer transport them.
Church members therefore reached out to the local volunteer fire department to see if they could help. “Sure enough, they were delighted to come!” Phillips said. “Some had never done it before and were thrilled to be invited. It helped the folks at Renner Lutheran tremendously to have strong, able-bodied adults to help carry the heavy food boxes, and it was a great way to connect and build relationships with our community firefighters. It is a beautiful gift to work together in a community like that to be a blessing to one another!”
Ministry is not about budgets or attendance, and flourishing is not measured in numbers alone. Thriving is about relationships and stories, connections, receiving God’s love and grace and sharing with one’s neighbor. Both Ray and Phillips honored their congregations’ stories and traditions and explored new ways to faithfully serve while acknowledging congregational demographics. This can mean that worship and serving one’s neighbor look different than it used to.
God loves small churches and small places. For rural churches to flourish, pastors and congregations will need to adapt and to measure success more than numerically. But the gifts God has given rural churches — community, connection, kindness and care — are abundant.
The refrain of “I Love to Tell the Story” says,
I love to tell the story;
’twill be my theme in glory
to tell the old, old story
of Jesus and his love.
That message never grows old.
We believe congregations are important, both to those involved in them and to their neighbors, and we want people to know that about our work. It is part of the reason we changed the name of our ministry from Leadership Education to Forum for Congregational Life.
With that new emphasis and in a season of rapid societal change, we are also considering the impact of AI, cultural polarization and numerous other factors on the work and meaning of congregations.
When Dave started in ministry more than four decades ago, many denominations acted as if one of the primary roles of a congregation was to be an outpost of denominationally developed programs. Today, the activities of a congregation are often determined by its people and shaped by the opportunities and challenges in its particular context.
Given all that is shifting, Alaina believed that our team needed to consider why congregations matter both historically and in our day. We needed to speak the questions on our minds as we launch the Forum.
Christian congregations are the primary social and institutional manifestation of Christian faith today. In Christian congregations, individuals and families gather to receive, affirm and celebrate the transformation they have experienced through faith in the Triune God. In congregations, persons of all ages are formed together in seeking God’s purpose for their shared lives across many years.
This communal expression and experience of faith grounds individuals in God’s redemptive story. The shared work of communal worship gives congregation members renewed imaginations to see God at work in their homes, neighborhoods, workplaces and beyond.
A thriving congregation is firmly grounded in the story of God, continually retold through communal, family and individual practices such as worship, study of Scripture, prayer and discernment. A thriving congregation has integrated its sense of mission and calling into all aspects of its organizational life, including its formational programming and decision-making processes. A thriving congregation is deeply rooted in its place — invested in the culture and history of its neighborhood, faithfully interpreting its theological tradition and commitments within the life of the community beyond the congregation.
Finally, a thriving congregation has a thoroughly Christ-shaped and Spirit-led life, sharing an inextricable connection to the Triune God while remaining fully present to the needs, joys, sorrows and opportunities of the community. Healthy congregational leadership is not limited to pastoral and professional leadership; it includes laity and clergy working collectively to live as Christ lives.
Over the years, we have witnessed many congregations develop a mission or vision statement. In the end, those statements are remarkably alike. Often, the gift of such a process is for the participants to go back to the fundamentals of the faith life and the role of the congregation in that life.
It can be difficult to hold onto these foundational ideals in this season of rapid social and cultural change. All of us are trying to adapt to this environment. Technological advances have made remote work, virtual health care and online education possible. Artificial intelligence is transforming almost every sector of life. Geopolitical and environmental instability raise anxieties and fears for many.
It is not surprising that people may feel overwhelmed. Some attempt to turn back the clock, while others choose to trust in the latest innovation. Some may be paralyzed by the situation. In the midst of these changes, trust in institutions of all types is eroding.
Congregations, naturally, need to adapt to the changing circumstances. In a 2024 survey for the Exploring the Pandemic Impact on Congregations (EPIC) project conducted by the Hartford Institute for Religion Research, 46% of respondents reported that they regularly participate — in-person or virtually — in congregations beyond their primary one, and 7% identified as having more than one “home church.” What does this information mean in terms of church membership? What should any of these respondents’ congregations expect in terms of participation?
Leaders of congregations are considering a host of distinct and interrelated questions: How do we lead others to live a life of faith that matters? What is the role of technology in facilitating worship? How do we support Christian discipleship for families who seldom attend services and frequently access content on their phones? How do we measure the impact of our engagement with the community?
These shifts raise basic organizational questions about what a church staff and building should do: How do we determine the adequate size of a church staff? What is the role of a church building? What does it mean if a church is in a neighborhood? Some leaders are not sure where to find information and ideas beyond their friends, colleagues, peers and perhaps their denomination.
One way to see the new situation for congregations is to remember the effectiveness of the mid-20th century’s most commonly used metric for church life: average weekly worship attendance. Lyle Schaller, a highly regarded church consultant of that era, considered a congregation’s size to be the most crucial variable in predicting its culture and work. This measure helped gauge adequate programs, staffing, location, buildings and land use. Attendance still matters today, but it does not predict revenue or requests for support in the way it once did.
We can see another shift in expressions of congregational life through programming. In Schaller’s time, congregations offered a host of programs, ranging from youth groups to Bible studies. Even worship services were often planned like program events. The program-planning model has been slowly shifting, but these changes became much more widespread during the stay-at-home phase of the pandemic. Programs were generally shut down for months or longer. Worship, prayer and fellowship, however, continued in new and old ways that are still evolving.
Another shift is away from the congregation as a “voluntary association.” Since the same period when programing became central, congregations have generally been organized like civic organizations, such as women’s clubs or Lions Clubs. But all of these associational forms are shifting as we approach the mid-21st century. At the moment, few groups of this kind are attracting younger adults, who often connect instead through social media and are more likely to affiliate with a movement than a formal association. Yet the bonds of a movement are often not as long-lasting or consistent as those created in many voluntary associations, particularly congregations.
These shifts and changes invite us to wonder: How should congregations evolve to offer their gifts in new ways? The mission of congregations is not changing, but the expressions of congregational life are evolving. This transition can be difficult to track and notice across various Christian traditions. There are places for a congregation to go for help — like a denomination, a school or a consulting firm — but those places may not have the time and energy to develop networks so congregations can learn from each other.
We want the Forum for Congregational Life to be a place that supports the exploration of today’s pressing questions and any new questions that may emerge for congregations. We believe that the variety of Christian traditions and their congregations will likely respond to the times in many different ways, and we aspire to facilitate ways to learn from each other.
Participation in congregational life has been significant to Christian persons and families throughout the church’s history. In different seasons, congregational life has evolved to include many expressions: house churches, small rural congregations, megachurches, cathedrals and more. Alongside all who care about congregations, we are excited to discover how these forms are evolving and the impact congregations are having in this age.
It can be difficult to hold onto these foundational ideals in this season of rapid social and cultural change.
When I was a child, there was almost always someone I didn’t know at our Thanksgiving table. We regularly hosted students from the college where my dad taught, especially those who were far from home.
I never questioned the author of Hebrews’ instructions: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it” (Hebrews 13:2 NRSVue). My childhood experiences of hospitality were safe, predictable gatherings that included a greater-than-average chance for dessert, if I was lucky. Entertaining strangers who might be angels seemed like a no-brainer.
While I am grateful for this early exposure to one form of hospitality, my view of the practice widened in divinity school when our ethics professor challenged us to consider the angelic encounters described in Scripture. Far removed from the strangers-turned-friends I had pleasant table conversations with growing up, the angels in Scripture may appear with flaming swords, such as those stationed east of Eden in Genesis 3, or with drawn swords, as the prophet Balaam recounts in Numbers 22.
The more I read, the more difficult and dangerous entertaining angels sounded. It was clear why angels begin so many conversations with “do not fear.”
In Genesis, I read how Abraham’s afternoon plans and the family budget went out the window after three visitors appeared and dinner preparations began by finding a calf in the field (18:1-15). Lot faces danger to his family and the loss of his home (19:1-29), while Jacob’s encounter ends with a permanent limp (32:24-31).
Similar stories in the New Testament recount Mary surrendering her bodily autonomy (Luke 1:26-38) and Zechariah losing his ability to speak (Luke 1:8-22).
The Christian practice of hospitality is about so much more than sharing a meal with people like ourselves. Entertaining strangers as angels in disguise involves risk, vulnerability and encounters with those unlike us. Some level of discomfort is essential. Yet extending hospitality is also a space of discovery and transformation, as our biblical predecessors experienced through their angelic encounters.
Theologian Thomas Ogletree writes: “To offer hospitality to a stranger is to welcome something new, unfamiliar, and unknown into our life-world. … Strangers have stories to tell which we have never heard before, stories which can redirect our seeing and stimulate our imaginations.”
We live in a moment where such connection and transformation are urgently needed. It is also harder and riskier to encounter those unlike us. Christine Pohl explains that as households have become more secluded and private, the risk to host and guest alike has increased.
Institutions play an increasingly important role in creating “third places” where people can connect. These social spaces, distinct from both home and workplace, are harder and harder to find, further limiting opportunities for transformative encounters with strangers.
Some places cannot safely open their doors to strangers in our current moment. The Christian practice of discernment must accompany extending hospitality in communities where particular vulnerable identities are being targeted. Yet in places where this is not the case, creating sacred space for encounter may be exactly what the church is being called to in “such a time as this” (Esther 4:14).
One of the gifts of my work is that I regularly bump into stories of congregations across the country that are doing the hard, messy, scary work of welcoming strangers. I hear more and more stories of churches that are designing third places and drawing on their spiritual resources to create belonging, offer support and remind the world — and themselves — that our value is not in what we produce but in who we are.
The results are as different as the congregations that create them. Members of Mack Avenue Community Church in Detroit asked their neighbors what they needed and, in response, created a community space with a cafe and laundromat. The pastor of Mt. Carmel Missionary Baptist Church in the small town of Folkston, Georgia, took the church outside, worshipping in parks, hosting community days and training cyclists in the town’s national wildlife refuge.
Holy Family Episcopal Church in Houston took an old a meat-packing warehouse and redesigned it to be a worship space that doubles as an art gallery, supporting local artists and welcoming community members all week long. North Decatur Presbyterian Church in suburban Atlanta hosted a community gathering after a government agency 3 miles away laid off a large number of staff. Congregation members made room for people to tell their stories and share resources. They also helped people find a sense of belonging and held their suffering in the larger story that the church tells.
I doubt any of these congregations would say this work is easy or that they’ve been trained to do it. They will likely name failures, lengthy timelines, fears and moments of discomfort as just some of the challenge they faced while deepening their practice of hospitality. Yet they continue to hold open this space. The transformative encounter is simply too important, too beautiful for them to stop.
On the day of Pentecost, the disciples were thrust outside the safety of the house and into a space thronged with strangers. Fire, wind, languages from across the globe and accusations of drunkenness swirled around them. And in that moment, the church was transformed forever.
Amazed and astonished, each one in the multinational crowd heard the good news in the language they spoke at home. Thousands were cut to the heart and received the promise of God for themselves. And the church did what it does best: it welcomed them in, shared its spiritual resources and affirmed their belonging and belovedness.
The Christian practice of hospitality is about so much more than sharing a meal with people like ourselves.
“We’ve always done it this way!”
For decades, church leaders and committee members have sat in fellowship halls and church classrooms and around conference tables discussing future plans for their congregations.
Inevitably, someone utters those familiar six words: “We’ve always done it this way.”
At first, it can feel like an uninspired attachment to the past. But with deeper listening, you will recognize that it can be more about pride in the track record of the congregation. It’s more “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” and less “Over my dead body!”
“We’ve always done it this way” can be an important tether to church culture and long-standing tradition — but it can also be the chief barrier to innovation.
What if the pastors in the room saw themselves as innovation instigators?
When I was growing up, one of our favorite sayings was, “Why are you instigating?” It was a question that would come up whenever two or more folks were in the early stages of an argument or disagreement.
Inevitably, someone would come around to some version of, “I heard you said this …; I heard you said that …,” which would lead someone else in the conversation to ask, “Why are you instigating?” The rhetorical question in childhood settings was meant to draw out the reality that the instigator was bringing information to the forefront to fuel the fire and keep the intensity high.
I am by no means advocating for pastors to spark disagreements in committee meetings, but what would it look like to see ourselves as innovation instigators within our congregations? When a committee member gazes through rose-colored glasses at a church event from the past, how might pastors bring to the forefront the full picture rather than limiting the view to the committee’s highlight reel?
What would it look like to raise the internal challenges that accompanied an external win? Yes, the event was sold out, but was the church equipped to handle the crowd? Yes, the choir did a phenomenal job, but did they sing too long? Yes, elected officials showed up, but when their team misrepresented our event on their social media accounts, did we correct them?
Seeing ourselves as innovation instigators means being willing to hold the mirror up to ourselves and our team so that we can honestly examine the moments where things are working effectively and where they are not. The purpose of this work is not to deflate the pride that congregations have about who they are and what they’ve done but to work out the kinks so that every experience offered becomes better than the last. A culture of questions and critique helps churches both celebrate their wins and respond to their losses.
Innovation instigators don’t allow the team to let themselves off the hook when it comes to event evaluations. They stand in the tension to hold space for new normals to emerge when the old ways of doing things are no longer cutting it.
Rarely is the work of innovation done completely from scratch. We must look for innovative moments within ongoing practices. In other words, we may not be able to change the whole thing at once, but we can make significant changes along the way.
My dissertation adviser, L. Gregory Jones, now the president of Belmont University, calls this practice traditioned innovation. As he wrote with Andrew P. Hogue in “Navigating the Future: Traditioned Innovation for Wilder Seas,” traditioned innovation is “a way of thinking and living that holds the past and future together in creative tension.” Jones and Hogue went on to write: “We believe that the innovation that matters is innovation that draws on the best of the past, carrying forward its wisdom through ‘traditioned innovation.’” This framework has animated much of Jones’ work and even launched the Traditioned Innovation Project at Duke Divinity School.
With this context in mind, I’m calling for more of us to see ourselves as innovation instigators. We have the capacity to hold the past in one hand and the potential future in the other. I am more persuaded than ever in this post-2020 world that congregations have the capacity to innovate. We’ve proved it. The COVID-19 crisis forced churches across the nation to find ways to do church differently. Our “why” remained the same, but our “how” had to change. On that journey, we learned that we, the church universal, are capable of discovering new ways of solving problems.
While you cannot force innovation, you can create a culture that fosters innovative solutions to ongoing issues. Innovation instigators are those brave enough to ask the questions that unmask the real underlying challenges congregations face. Innovation instigators are those willing to disrupt the comfort of a church meeting to open the space up for honest reflection. While pastors cannot force members to think differently, pastors can raise the kinds of questions that draw out new answers. In this season, I implore you to instigate some change. Instigate some new ideas. Instigate toward innovation.
The years 2020-2022 taught us just how resilient we can be. Countless congregations learned new technologies under pressure. Innovation was at an all-time high. I believe that we still have within us that capacity to innovate. We did it under duress; now let’s attempt it in more neutral conditions. Let’s be innovation instigators.
What would it look like to raise the internal challenges that accompanied an external win?