Congregational Life Cycles: From Scarcity to Opportunity

Patrick Lane

We can be honest, right? Countless articles with titles like “Fifteen Signs of a Dying Church and How to Revitalize Your Ministry”¹ tell us about how the church is dying. Most of the time these articles seek to raise the levels of fear and anxiety in ourselves and our pews. In my experience, one relatable detail can cause you to fall down the rabbit hole of doom and gloom about your church, and that is the point. These articles do not just make us aware of the situation (we are already aware), they increase our fears about tomorrow and elicit an emotional response out of us. Anxieties rise as we keep clicking and reading. I recognize the irony; this is yet another article about the reality of church death. But my aim is not to produce anxiety. Rather, I pray this will be a message of hope and renewal. Perhaps this message will simply allow you to acknowledge that you are not alone in the current landscape of the church and then will move you forward in God’s way. 

For the last four years I have been serving a rural church in Culpeper County, Virginia, with less than a hundred active members. Yet we cling to an outdated roster that inflates membership numbers for a variety of reasons. “We don’t want to hurt their feelings by removing them.” “What’s the harm in just leaving them on?” “Their last name is a cornerstone in this congregation’s history.” Yet, I have not met many of these individuals in my tenure. This is where I see the fear of scarcity infecting the church, with a pervasive sense that there is not and will never be enough. Clinging to their names retains the possibility that they will come back one day and bring with them the way things were, when the church was full. 

I would love to tell you that I’m immune to this scarcity mindset and perception about numbers, that I can put my own feelings of numbers-based-ego aside. But when there are more people in the choir than in the pews, it is hard to deny those feelings. In the midst of fears over financial security and longevity, it is hard to look at my line in the church’s operating budget, which makes up over 50 percent. It is hard to walk past empty Christian education rooms throughout the week and on Sundays. It is hard to escape the fear of scarcity. Many readers know this fear, too, the fear of not enough. Maybe you, too, have moved from glass-half-empty thinking to half-empty and will never be re-filled, let alone runneth over. It is easy to convince ourselves that there is not enough money, time, people, activities, or resources as the fear of tomorrow clouds the light of today. 

When a scarcity mindset takes over our minds and hearts, we may find ourselves at a particular stage of our church’s life cycle. A church’s life cycle is rather simple. It is founded, it grows, it experiences what the community considers its “golden age,” followed by experiences of what the community may consider as “decline,” and then it either reforms to meet a changing context or it dies. If a church is able to revitalize and reform, it will start the cycle again near the “growth” phase. The scarcity mindset, while possible at any point, becomes its most contagious as decline begins and can infect the whole system (the body of the church) with a fear that there is not enough to sustain the institution. The desire for the “golden age” drives this infected system as the lack of something(s) is elevated to higher and higher levels of priority. Infection makes its way through the body, picking up momentum as it passes from one part to the next, increasing the perceived rate of decline. The hardest part of a life cycle to wrestle with is often the reality of death. Even institutions that have lasted for hundreds of years face this natural cycle, and we need to be open to accepting it. 

But there is hope in the face of death, for we are a people of faith who proclaim resurrection. If our mortal bodies are infected, healing is often possible. In our churches the same is true, though healing may not happen how we imagine it to or look the way we might expect. Infections of scarcity thinking in the midst of decline may be regular occurrences in a church’s life cycle. They may be triggered by a beloved pastor moving out of the pulpit or the death of the congregation’s matriarch. Maybe all the kids have moved away and don’t return to the pews or “replenish” the Sunday school rooms with their own children. Scarcity may manifest itself in many, many ways. 

No matter what you identify as insufficient in your context, a scarcity mindset is rooted in fear and clouds our vision for tomorrow with the doom and gloom of impending calamity. Scarcity thinking keeps us from seeing the opportunities for new life. Christ shows us that life includes scarcity: not enough food for the masses, not enough love and care for others. But Jesus bore the scarcity of our world, even to the point of dying, and shows us God’s power over death, possibilities for life made new. We see that five loaves and two fish can feed thousands, public crucifixion and entombment cannot keep God from making things new, and we work to move forward in the midst of our scarcities. 

It is so easy to see what is not there when we care deeply about the church. I find that when I lament about what is lacking, there comes a point when I must admit that the worrying and whining will not change anything unless I allow the honesty to help me see new possibilities. In Hans Christian Andersen’s story “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” the emperor is tricked into wearing nothing, and the whole kingdom is afraid to admit this obvious truth aloud. We can either pretend we see clothes that aren’t there or we can admit the reality. Hopefully, we are honest enough to avoid finding ourselves naked in a parade (!), but to practice this kind of honesty, we must put the pride and ego of the golden age aside and open our eyes to what is true today. In doing so, we might be surprised by the opportunities that this honesty can reveal. 

No matter how worried or caught up in the scarcity you may be, know that you have assets and opportunities for real renewal surrounding you. I took a helpful certificate class called Community Engagement and Ministry through Austin Theological Seminary’s Lifelong Learning program, which showed us how to identify the assets that exist in our contexts that can move us through times of scarcity in our churches and communities. The lessons from that class have come to mind time and again as I write of scarcities and opportunities. I also find these lessons in the story of the feeding of the thousands, when the disciples see the scarcity around them. “Where are we going to get enough bread in the desert to feed so great a crowd?” (Matt. 15:33). The disciples acknowledge the reality of their context: there is not enough bread on hand, there is not money to buy more, and there may not be enough disciples to carry all the food to the people. The scarcity mindset has infected the followers of Jesus. But for Christ, it is a chance to show the opportunities scarcity can present. When the disciples and crowds set their minds to what isn’t, Jesus shows them what can be done with what is. Christ breaks through a desperate situation to show what can be done amid scarcity. 

It is hard and vulnerable work, but when this work is done with faith in God, we can encounter the Spirit in it. Changing mindsets and accepting such changes can be difficult in the best of times, and, as the “fifteen ways” articles all want us to know, we are not in the best of times. Yet even in the worst of times, even when the Messiah seems to be dead and gone, God’s power and creation of life gives us strength and hope to see an opportunity, a call, even in the midst of scarcity. Allowing the old thing to die can make space for something new (Isa. 43:19). 

As the cycle of life continues in your context, you will be faced with decline. Now or in the future, there will be both real and perceived scarcity, and you will have to choose how to proceed. When faced with this choice, I encourage you to do the hard work of shifting your mind to see not just scarcity but assets and opportunities. Scarcity thinking is very real, and it is important for us to recognize what we truly lack. But we cannot let scarcity become a cage that traps us into thinking that if empty pews are all we see, we must cling to what was, unable to move on without fear of being without. The good news is that this scarcity, when acknowledged, offers the opportunity for renewal and opens a way through the clouds of fear and anxiety with new possibilities. 

In your context, you may find yourself at a place in the life cycle that requires honesty about death. Some congregations partner together to mutually benefit one another and bring about new ministry where death was all that was seen before. It might be hardest to admit when it is time to enter figurative hospice care as a congregation, celebrate, and honor ministry done in the name of Christ so that the life cycle concludes in peace. It is important to remember that this conversation is highly contextual, and your situation is going to be unique. But we are an Easter people. The building may attract a new community. The people may worship with a new community of faith. Rebirth is part of who we are as those who profess that in Christ’s death and resurrection we have hope and new life, even when we face death. 

Scarcity is not artificial and does not simply disappear because of a lack of faith. It is very real. Often, struggles with church attendance and finances reflect realities of the world outside the walls of church. Rural areas are decreasing in population and economic diversity. Urban areas are becoming less affordable and more crowded. Admitting these dynamics can allow us to see the opportunity to fill a need and provide newness of life. 

Everyone has an opinion, whether they keep it quiet or speak it out loud, about the “correct” way for the church to operate as it cycles through life. Each of us can likely find something lacking in any church we step into, whether it is the lack of a certain kind of programming, the speed of the music, or banners that were removed. Many factors influence our perspective, including our background, life experience, age, and experience in the church. Often what we don’t like is based on a comparison we make with whatever we found to be a gold standard that nothing else could beat. Of course, this comparison only shows us scarcity all around. 

If I compare our thirteen-member choir to the 360-member Mormon Tabernacle Choir, my church’s music program appears to be suffering from severe scarcity, and I’m guaranteed to have a negative outlook. If I use the PC(USA)’s 2023 statistical report to compare my church’s mission spending, just over $16,000, to the mission spending of another church in our presbytery, which was reported to be $106,000 (amazing!), then my church is severely lacking in our mission giving. Yet, these comparisons are futile. We could not even fit 360 choir members into our sanctuary, and $106,000 is nearly 70 percent of our budget. When our scarcity mindsets only drive us to “look at them over there,” we become blind to the good work we have to do here and the Spirit’s movement in our midst. 

The question becomes, when we fall into the cages of a scarcity mindset, how do we remove the paralyzing fear of that scarcity? I propose that we simply accept it. Accept that the pews where the Joneses sat are empty and likely will remain so, because the Joneses are no longer around. The kids were raised, left home, didn’t return, and the Joneses eventually passed on, a story that has been seen across all churches, large or small. As Disney’s The Lion King so memorably puts it, “It’s the circle of life.” I encourage you to accept what is beyond your control. Income isn’t keeping up with expenses any longer, but what can be done with the income we have, our meager fish and loaves? When we put aside budgetary expectations from the past and consider what we have instead, we may be renewed by a God who is always doing new things.

Perhaps now that the Joneses are not here, no one sits on the right side of the sanctuary. How could that space be something more? Maybe this is the opportunity you needed to create more accessible seating, add rocking chairs for parents, or make a pray-ground that allows children to participate more fully in worship. This might be a way to honor the gifts that the Joneses offered to the congregation for so many years. If income isn’t what it used to be, can the budget be adjusted to better fit the needs of both the congregation and the surrounding community? These are just a few obvious examples. When we acknowledge and accept our limitations, we allow space to create something new from what we thought was dying. 

I’d like to share a story I learned in a course I took at Austin Theological Seminary in Community Engagement and Ministry.² It is an ancient parable of disputed origin and unknown authorship.

A woman had two large pots; each hung on the ends of a pole, which she carried across her neck. One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water. At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water.

Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what the cracked pot perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the woman one day by the stream. “I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house.”

The old woman smiled. “Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot’s side? That’s because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house.”

The cracked pot did not hold the same amount of water as the other pot, a hard reality of scarcity that the pot wrestled with for years. But when the pot finally acknowledged what it thought was its failure and spoke about it, its limitation was shown to be a gift. The cracked pot shared its water differently than the other pot did, giving water to bring forth life around it. The pot finally understood this after acknowledging its reality, which was key to allowing it to see the good, the opportunity, in its perceived flaw. 

When the women journeyed to the tomb on that first Easter morning, they were already dealing with loss and a scarcity mindset following the death of Jesus. Their anxiety and fear only grew as the reality set in of a rolled-away stone and an empty tomb. Depending on which Gospel message you are reading, Mary Magdelene, Mary the mother of James, Salome, Joanna, and the other women experience a mix of awe (Mark 16), fear (Matt. 28), and perplexity (Luke 24). They run to tell the story that what had been there is no longer. Something is missing, and this is an opportunity to go and be part of a new thing. They meet resistance when they acknowledge the new life that came from a bare cross and empty tomb. Peter and the disciples have to see it for themselves before they are willing to follow the words of Christ to meet the risen Messiah in Galilee. Whether you are seeking to acknowledge scarcity—like a Mary—or still struggling to accept certain realities—like a Peter—together we place our faith in the proclamation that what was dead can have new life through the power of God.

We’re still being honest, right? No one was present at the moment of resurrection. No one saw Jesus start breathing again, and no one removed the linens from his body. The resurrection is part of the mystery of God. People only saw the results, the victory of the barren cross and the empty tomb. They saw the resurrected Christ appear to them on the road (Luke 24), on the seashore (John 21), and through locked doors (John 21). In a “dying church,” we must lean into the mystery of faith amid fear just as we lean into the mystery of life in the midst of death. The life cycle is not about trying to get back to yesterday’s golden age, to the days when the pews were always full and people clamored to get their kid into vacation Bible school. Comments like these mark a sense of loss, and this loss has left scars. But these feelings do not mean that God calls us back to those days. The good news of the resurrection is the hope of renewal and rebirth despite the scars we see. It is also good news that resurrection is not about achieving the outcome we desire but about receiving God’s call to newness, even if this does not look how we expected it would. 

The resurrection story teaches us that death is part of the life cycle, but it is not the end. Our Easter proclamations move us forward through death with faith to seek what God is doing now in our cycle of life. The church may not look the same, sound the same, or feel the same as it did in the golden age, but the same Spirit still moves within and around us. Resurrection means that God has the final word. If the tomb is empty and flowers grow thanks to cracks in old pots, then something new can rise from what we thought was dead.

May we have faith enough to do the hard work of naming our scarcities, giving thanks for what once was, and learning that God is not done with us, with our churches, or with the world. Faith sees the cracks that bring beauty. It names the scarcity and still trusts in resurrection. In his book Reckoning with History, William Yoo writes, “For there is beauty and brokenness as well as abundance and scarcity all around us.”³ God has blessed us with the good and difficult mess of our ministries, and in Christ our faith doesn’t just dream of revival but leans on the God whose power resurrects and brings forth new life. In the unknown we take faithful, difficult steps to find life. So look and acknowledge the scarcity around you. See the cracked pots. Then, see the flowers blooming and know: you are not alone. Others are walking this journey, and the Spirit shall guide us all, for in Christ, even the end is never the end, as we recognize the opportunities within our scarcities, as we proclaim, the old life may fade away but a new life shall begin (2 Cor. 5:17). 

Notes

1. Matt Strelecki, “Fifteen Signs of a Dying Church and How to Revitalize Your Ministry,” Vanco website, https://www.vancopayments.com/egiving/blog/signs-of-a-dying-church/.

2. Source: Amy Moritz, February 27, 2010, acquired from Jean Handley, Turning Point Partners; author unknown.

3. Dr. William Yoo, Reckoning with History (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2025), 206.