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It seems like maybe something is happening.
A few years back the primary narrative I was hearing from many pastors coming out of COVID was that it was hard, and it was. People had got used to not coming to church and drawing them in again felt like an exercise in pastoral marketing. Our attention was often centred on trying to hold the existing flock together in our newly polarised climate, even as we felt something had shifted more broadly: the fragmentation of institutions and the failure of secularism were perhaps preparing the ground.
But now, more and more, I am hearing stories of green shoots in surprising places: tales of people turning up at church quite unexpectedly, conversations on the way with those curious about Jesus, dramatic spiritual encounters that we could never have manufactured.
These stories are often shared with a look of wonder in a pastor’s eyes, as she recounts how very little she did to make it happen. We’re used to having to press people to let us talk about the gospel, to convince them of their need for God, or that spiritual things are even real. Conditioned to expect resistance and suspicion, we’re surprised when someone brings God up with us, or when someone comes to church without a friend wearing them down by constant invitation. But it seems to be happening more and more; it feels like a quiet renewal.
If you haven’t already, it’s worth reading the Quiet Revival report from the Bible Society in the UK. Where they might have expected to find evidence of steady decline and the ongoing marginalisation of Christian faith, instead they report that Christian faith is becoming normalised and even culturally attractive, that young adults are finding their way into church, and that generally people are often open to Christianity and the Bible.
Other reports and anecdotes that are coming out of the US, Australia, and across Aotearoa have me quietly excited that this might be more wishful thinking, something might be happening here.
However, ever fearful of disappointment, I naturally incline towards scepticism, because I know how pastors love to spin a testimony. Envy, too, has me questioning: I’m not seeing revival in my community (yet), I have loved ones far from God (for now). But then I notice the way that the Spirit is working in my own family, the way that my little girl’s faith has flared into heartfelt devotion and she leads me to prayer and to Scripture.
26 Jesus also said, “The Kingdom of God is like a farmer who scatters seed on the ground. 27 Night and day, while he’s asleep or awake, the seed sprouts and grows, but he does not understand how it happens. 28 The earth produces the crops on its own. First a leaf blade pushes through, then the heads of wheat are formed, and finally the grain ripens. 29 And as soon as the grain is ready, the farmer comes and harvests it with a sickle, for the harvest time has come.”
Mark 4:26-29 (NLT)
Just like the farmer, we have the privilege of participating in a fruitful process that we cannot generate. If this is the beginnings of a quiet renewal, we are called to steward it skillfully, thoughtfully, and with deep humility.
The Spirit is at work, as the Spirit has always been, but it seems like maybe something new is happening. Whatever the Spirit is doing, I want to be in on it. I will not let my unmet expectations, frustration, or disappointment sour my future hope, however tentative it might be. Instead, may a healthy discontent and a holy hunger spur us first to prayer and then to faithful action.
Our upcoming Leaders Days events explore emerging reports across New Zealand and the globe of increasing openness to faith in Christ, and in some cases significant growth in church attendance and baptisms, led by younger generations; and how church leaders might respond. Learn more and register at: centreforchurchleadership.nz/events
