By Mary C. Frances, Executive Director and Senior Consultant
I mentioned a few weeks ago that my husband and I are in the midst of a big transition. We are moving to a new city in a new state. I have lived in our home for 30 years, and my husband joined me when we got married 23 years ago. If the walls could talk, as the saying goes. I think if the walls could talk, they would say, “It’s about time you got rid of all this stuff!” Many days it feels like moving is one big series of decisions: what to pitch and what to keep. As one friend shared with me recently, “Every marriage has two different types of people. One who likes to declutter and one who has attachment issues to the power cords we’ve had since 2006.” Some of those power cords might be even older than that! Time to let go!
I wonder if our churches are filled with the same two kinds of people. Walk into many churches today, and you might be greeted by a familiar, comforting feeling. The same wooden pews, the same order of service, the same beloved hymns from decades past. These traditions are the family heirlooms of our faith, precious and full of memory. But what happens when our treasured inheritance becomes a barrier, not a bridge, to the very people we are called to reach?
The message of the Gospel is eternal, but the methods for delivering it cannot be. For the church to remain a vibrant, life-giving force in a rapidly changing world, it must practice the sacred, and often difficult, art of letting go.
Holding on to programs, ideas, and traditions simply because “this is how we’ve always done it” is a recipe for irrelevance. The world outside our stained-glass windows has transformed. Cultural rhythms, communication styles, and community needs are vastly different from even twenty years ago. A Sunday school model from the 1980s, an outreach program from the 1990s, or a music style frozen in a particular decade may no longer resonate. When we cling to these outdated forms, we unintentionally send a message that our church is a museum for a bygone era, not a hospital for the hurting and a home for the seeking.
This necessary process of letting go is not about compromising core doctrine. It is about distinguishing between the unchangeable truth of the Gospel and the changeable containers we put it in. It’s about asking a crucial, Spirit-led question: “Is this program or tradition helping us fulfill our mission, or is it merely preserving our comfort?”
Letting go is an act of faith, not failure. It requires the humility to admit that what once worked may not work anymore. It means retiring a long-standing ministry that has run its course to make room for something new the Holy Spirit is stirring. This could look like swapping a mid-week prayer meeting for a community service project, trading a red hymnal for a digital screen, or repurposing a seldom-used classroom into a cozy coffee shop for connection.
This process will inevitably bring grief and resistance. Change feels like loss. But we must remember that our mission is not to preserve a specific culture or era; it is to introduce a transformative Christ to every generation. By courageously evaluating and, when necessary, releasing the old, we create space—physical, emotional, and spiritual space—for new people, new energy, and new expressions of worship and service.
A field must be cleared of last season’s harvest to prepare for the new planting. In the same way, churches must trust that the God who is “making all things new” is calling us to let go of the good to make way for the God-breathed, life-giving new thing God wants to do in our midst. The future of the church depends not just on what we hold dear, but on what we are brave enough to release. Need some help identifying where you are in the letting go process? Maybe it’s time for your congregation to take the Congregational Vitality Assessment (CVA).
