Faith communities as catalysts,
leveraging their underused buildings and property
for the sake of their neighborhoods and their mission

It will come as no surprise to anyone that the future of congregations and their houses is uncertain. 

According to Pew Research, the number of religiously unaffiliated (those who identify as “none of the above” or “nothing in particular”) has increased dramatically. The “Nones” nearly doubled between 2007 and 2019, and are projected to be a majority of the U.S. population by 2040 (just 18 years from now). Meanwhile, every U.S. Christian denomination is shrinking in membership and attendance with the number who attend regularly (at least once per month) having already dropped below 50% of the population, and is continuing to fall, leaving a majority of worship spaces operating at less than half capacity. The inevitable impact on finances has left most congregations facing some degree of financial difficulty, leading to an estimated 3,850–7,700 worship centers closing every year, according to  The Journal of Pastoral Psychology. Where once were church buildings now stand bookstores, brew pubs and wineries, skate parks and laser tag arenas, luxury condos, and even frat houses.

At the same time, many urban and rural communities are struggling with dozens of issues like the lack of access to living wage employment, affordable housing, medical insurance, health care, and social services, according to the  Regional Indicators Dashboard Project, all of which leads to many living in substandard conditions or even becoming homeless because they can’t afford to live and work in their communities. Ironically, many of the government and nonprofit organizations that could help these people with the challenges they face also cannot afford to locate in their communities.

And, of course, Covid.

All these factors combine to create a vicious cycle with little hope for things improving for congregations and the communities they serve, right?

Not necessarily…