Give Us This Day — Trusting God with Our Needs

Your baby is ugly.
I know—that’s harsh. You don’t want to hear it, and I get it. We’re talking about your baby, after all. She’s not stunning. But you love her. You’d defend her with everything you’ve got.
Especially from the guy who just called her ugly.
I’m that guy.
No, I’m not talking about your kids or grandkids. I’m sure they’re gorgeous. I’m talking about your church.
Your church is an ugly baby.
Or at least statistically speaking, it is. Depending on the source, somewhere between 65% and 85% of American churches are struggling—ugly babies at best, smoldering dumpster fires at worst. And that’s based on numbers before COVID-19.
In the last year and a half, I’ve seen the reality for myself across multiple regions. Churches are far less welcoming than they believe. Congregations are inward-focused. Sure, they support “global missions,” but they’ve outsourced the actual work of evangelism to professionals. They're not making disciples—at least not the way they think they are. Even if the pastor preaches rich, expository sermons, lives aren't being changed. Look at the community around the church—or even its own members—and you’ll see that clearly.
And it doesn’t matter that the sanctuary was packed in the 1990s or that you used to fill a bus with kids for VBS. What’s happening now? When was the last time your church baptized someone who wasn’t the child—or more likely, the grandchild—of a longtime member?
Maybe you think I’m a self-appointed critic. Fair enough. But here’s the deal: if your church is like most, it’s on a death march. And some are further along that path than others.
“People just don’t want to go to church anymore.”
No—they don’t want to go to your church.
“We preach the truth! Folks don’t want to hear it anymore.”
Maybe. But too often, dying churches claim to be doctrinally sound while they’re merely bitter and unwelcoming.
I’ve visited both small, dying churches and large, thriving ones—including megachurches. And contrary to popular opinion, I’ve heard strong Gospel messages and clear calls to repentance at every large church I’ve attended. Meanwhile, at some small churches, the messages ranged from bland to bizarre.
One Mother’s Day in Florida, the sermon was simply: “If your momma is alive, go visit her.” True and good—but it never made it to the cross of Christ. At another church, I heard the heretical claim that only the King James Version of the Bible is legitimate and that all other English translations are “satanic.” Worship of a Bible translation, no matter how venerable, is still idolatry.
And then there was the church that eliminated pastoral candidates from consideration if their current church had a drum set. That was their Easter announcement.
Someone who reassures them that their church isn’t dying—it’s just “narrow” and “faithful.” The problem must be everyone else. But Jesus warned us that a narrow gate isn’t a license for irrelevance (see Matthew 7:13–14).
I don’t mean to sound cynical—but I’ve lived this reality. I’ve seen it across the country. Your church’s struggles aren’t even unique. Different names, different locations, different denominations—same problems: inward-focused, evangelistically apathetic, run by a few power families, and unwilling to change.
I love your church enough to tell you: it doesn’t have to be this way. Your church can become a vibrant Gospel lighthouse again. Yes, it’s hard. Yes, our culture is post-Christian. But Christians around the world have always ministered in difficult contexts. Why should we expect ease?
More importantly, God loves ugly baby churches. As flawed and dysfunctional as they may be, they are still the blood-bought Bride of Christ. Christ died for the struggling church just as much as for the thriving one. And He calls all churches to life—not slow death.
I believe Jesus laid it out in His letters to the seven churches of Revelation. While some see these letters as representing eras in church history, I believe they describe types of churches present in every age—including ours. Three, in particular, reflect today’s declining churches: Ephesus, Sardis, and Laodicea.
The Ephesian church was doctrinally solid but spiritually cold. Jesus said, “You have abandoned the love you had at first” (Rev. 2:4). This could be love for Christ, for each other, or for the lost. Perhaps all three.
Modern equivalents abound: churches that pride themselves on theological precision but have no compassion for the outsider. Churches that are more focused on correcting heresy than converting sinners. Churches that forgot what love looks like.
Jesus warns them: “Repent... If not, I will come to you and remove your lampstand” (v. 5). That’s the Bible’s only explicit reason why churches die—Jesus removes their influence when they refuse to repent.
“You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead” (Rev. 3:1). Ouch.
People remembered the glory days of Sardis. But the lights were still on, even as the Spirit had left the building. Jesus urged them to “Wake up, and strengthen what remains… Remember what you received and heard. Keep it, and repent” (vv. 2–3).
Maybe they drifted into moral compromise. Maybe they just coasted on past success. But the result was the same: spiritual death masked by nostalgia.
This church made Jesus sick: “Because you are lukewarm... I will spit you out of my mouth” (Rev. 3:16). They were wealthy, self-sufficient, and spiritually blind.
They had the resources—but not the urgency. No fire. No compassion. Just self-preservation. Many churches today have cash reserves, paid-off buildings, and zero evangelistic fruit.
Jesus’ counsel? Buy from Him “gold refined by fire,” white garments, and eye salve (v. 18). In other words: repent, refocus, and reengage with the mission.
Jesus didn’t say, “Try harder.” He said: “Repent.” Turn around. Go back to your first love. Wake up. Regain your purpose. Fix your eyes on the Gospel. Let go of pet preferences and nostalgic memories. Get serious about disciple-making.
Yes, your church can change.
But will it?
God still raises dead things. I’ve seen it happen. But more often than not, churches choose the slow death of familiarity over the hard road of revitalization. They say they want change—until it threatens their comfort. They claim they’re ready—until a revitalizing pastor challenges the status quo.
Too many choose the spiritual equivalent of late-stage lung cancer and still keep smoking.
They puff away, week after week, until the church dies. And it’s ugly. The building becomes a community eyesore. The Gospel witness vanishes.
The question is: What will your church choose?
Are you ready to make the ugly baby beautiful again?
About the Author
Bart Denny is a church revitalization pastor, adjunct seminary instructor, and retired U.S. Navy officer. With a passion for leadership development and Gospel-centered renewal, Bart writes and speaks to equip churches to rediscover their mission. He currently pastors a rural congregation in western Michigan and blogs at BartDenny.blogspot.com.
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