Exponential NEXT Podcast Episode 116

Series: Candid Conversations About Women and the Church

Description:

In this episode of Candid Conversations About Women and the Church, Simi John shares her passion for preaching and teaching the Gospel both within the local church and through her professional vocation as a physical therapist. Simi reflects on her journey of immigrating from India, the ways God has shaped her faith and calling, and her deep commitment to faithfully teaching Scripture. She also speaks about her heart to encourage and equip women to embrace their God-given calling, helping elevate the voices and leadership of God’s daughters for the flourishing of the Church and the advancement of the Kingdom.

Hosts:

Sue Ferguson – Women NEXT, Co-Director

Noemi Chavez – Women NEXT, Co-Director

Guest:

Simi John – Speaker/Author

Links Mentioned:

Simi John – Speaker/Author

Category: Women NEXT

Indeed, they are a biblical mandate: envisioned by Christ (John 17:20–23), described by Luke (Acts 11:19–26; 13:1), and prescribed by the Apostle Paul throughout his life and writings (see Romans and Ephesians). Long before diversity became a cultural conversation, Jesus taught us to pray, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” So, if the Kingdom of God is not segregated, why on earth is the local church?

From Babel to Pentecost to the vision of every nation, tribe, people, and tongue united as one before the throne (Revelation 5:9; 7:9), scripture consistently moves toward reconciliation without erasing distinction. The first-century multiethnic church was itself revolutionary. In a world divided by ethnicity, class, nationality, gender, and social status, the gospel created a new kind of community unlike anything the world had ever seen. 

We are called to embody that same revolutionary witness today by building healthy multiethnic churches that offer the world a credible and compelling testimony to God’s reconciling love for all people.

Today, too, another revolution is quietly reshaping humanity. Artificial Intelligence (AI) is transforming how people learn, communicate, work, create, and increasingly how they understand the world around them. 

At first glance, AI and the healthy multiethnic church may seem like unrelated subjects, but they are not. Just as the first-century church faithfully engaged the defining cultural realities of its day with the truth of the gospel, so too must we engage the defining realities of ours.

These are not separate conversations. They are part of the same mission: forming disciples and bearing credible witness to Jesus Christ in a rapidly changing world.

As you might imagine, AI is becoming more intelligent by the day. Yet humanity’s greatest asset has never been intelligence alone. Rather, its greatest asset has always been wisdom. Unlike AI, wisdom is formed through humility, relationships, moral courage, discernment, and submission to God. While intelligence can increasingly be automated, wisdom cannot.

That is precisely why I believe the conversation surrounding AI belongs within the healthy multiethnic church movement. Since the turn of the century, the healthy multiethnic church movement has helped the American church navigate the nuances and intersectional complexities of unity and diversity. Now it should also help the church navigate one of the defining cultural disruptions of our lifetime.

Ironically, as intelligent machines become increasingly common, our shared humanity may become more valuable than ever. In a world increasingly populated by robots and perhaps one day by technologically enhanced human beings, what will ultimately bind us together is not our technological capability but our common humanity as people created in the image of God. 

Healthy multiethnic churches uniquely demonstrate that reality by bringing together demographic groups who would otherwise remain divided. In doing so, they testify that our deepest identity is found not in color, class, culture, nationality, or politics, but in Christ.

Few people are better equipped to help the church think through these issues than my good friend and colleague, the Rev. Dr. Christopher J. Benek. Considered by many as the world’s foremost clergy expert on AI, for more than two decades he has served thoughtfully at the intersection of theology and technology, helping pastors, churches, institutions, business leaders, and policymakers engage AI with theological depth, intellectual rigor, and pastoral wisdom.

That is why I wanted Christopher to contribute to this conversation. 

While my own work has focused on helping churches embody the reconciling power of the gospel across human differences, Christopher has spent years helping the church think faithfully about one of the defining technologies of our age. His article is not merely about technology. It is about discipleship, human dignity, and ensuring that the church continues to shape culture rather than simply being shaped by it.

As you read what follows, I encourage you to consider AI not simply as a new tool to adopt or resist, but as a cultural force that is already shaping the people we are called to disciple, as it will continue to do.

Christopher helps us ask the right questions. My hope is that his insights will encourage us to steward this moment faithfully, remembering that while technology will continue to advance, God’s mission remains unchanged: forming one new humanity in Christ for the sake of the gospel. 

If healthy multiethnic churches are called to model God’s Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven, and they are, then we cannot stand on the sidelines while AI reshapes the very people we are called to welcome, equip, and empower. We must engage this moment as a diverse people, united as one in Christ and the church, with wisdom, humility, and confidence in the gospel. Having demonstrated that the gospel reconciles people across every human divide, the next frontier of the multiethnic church movement is to help ensure that the technologies shaping humanity reflect the dignity, justice, and flourishing of every person created in the image of God.

AI Is Forming the Church… But Whose Voice Is Shaping It?

By Rev. Dr. Christopher J. Benek

On Monday morning, before your first cup of coffee, Artificial Intelligence (AI) is already shaping your congregation.

• A teenager wakes up to an algorithm-curated feed that subtly trains what they notice, what they desire, and what they fear.
• A church leader drafts a difficult email with the quiet assistance of an AI tool, smoothing language but perhaps softening something more human.
• A job seeker in your pew has already been filtered out by a hiring system before a person ever saw their name.
• And someone, somewhere in your congregation, has asked a machine a question they were too afraid to ask you.

By Sunday morning, they arrive already spiritually, emotionally, and intellectually shaped by systems that are powerful, invisible, and far from neutral.

The question is no longer whether AI is shaping the church. It already is. The deeper question is this: whose voices are shaping AI? And as importantly, whose voices are missing from its own formation?

One of the most important truths we must come to terms with is that AI is not neutral. It is trained on human data: our language, our images, our histories, our habits. Because of that, it reflects the world from which it learns.

As I wrote in Church Leader’s Guide to Artificial Intelligence, these systems inevitably mirror the values, assumptions, and biases embedded in their training data. 

That means:

• When certain voices dominate the data, they dominate the outcomes. 
• When certain communities are underrepresented, they are misunderstood or overlooked. 
• When entire perspectives are absent, they are effectively erased.

Much of today’s AI ecosystem is shaped disproportionately by western, English-speaking, and economically privileged contexts. That reality is not simply a technical concern. It is a theological one, because the gospel has never belonged to a single culture.

From the beginning, the church has been a multiethnic, multilingual, globally embodied people. At Pentecost, the Good News was not proclaimed in one dominant voice, but in many languages at once. That moment was not just miraculous; it was instructive. It revealed something essential about how God works in the world: through a diversity of voices held together in unity. The Spirit did not flatten difference: He elevated and honored it.

The systems now shaping human thought, communication, and decision-making, however, are often being built without that same diversity. This has created a quiet but dangerous gap.

To the degree AI lacks diverse voices, it is not simply incomplete; it becomes unjust, and we are already seeing such consequences:

• Hiring algorithms that disadvantage certain communities.
• Language systems that flatten cultural nuance.
• Facial recognition tools that struggle to accurately identify darker skin tones.
• Content moderation systems that misinterpret context across cultures.

Such things are not hypothetical risks; they are present realities. And they reveal something deeper. Technology does not just reflect society. It can reinforce and scale its inequities.

If the church in general, and more specifically, the multiethnic church does not engage this moment, we risk allowing systems to shape the world in ways that contradict the very justice, dignity, and reconciliation we proclaim.

In many ways, AI functions like a mirror. But mirrors only reflect what is placed before them. If the data is narrow, the reflection is distorted. If the voices are limited, the outcomes will be too.

So, the question is not only what AI is showing us, but who is seen and who is missing from the reflection. For a multiethnic church, that question cuts to the heart of our witness.

We are living in a time when intelligence is scaling rapidly. AI can generate language across contexts, translate across cultures, and predict behavior at extraordinary levels. But scaling intelligence is not the same as cultivating wisdom. And wisdom, as Scripture reminds us, is never abstract or detached. It is relational, contextual, and deeply attentive to human dignity.

Wisdom requires listening. It requires humility. It requires the presence of voices that see the world differently. Without that, AI may become more powerful but not more just; more efficient but not more faithful; more capable but not more humane.

This is why the presence of multiethnic voices in the AI conversation is not optional. It is essential.

Christian theology affirms that every human being bears the image of God. No single culture fully reflects the fullness of that image. The Body of Christ is made up of many parts, not one. Which means that when systems are built without diverse perspectives, they are built without a full reflection of the Imago Dei.

This should concern us deeply because the work of redemption has always been about restoring right relationship across difference, division, and systems that fail to honor human dignity. In that sense, AI is not just a technological frontier. It is a new space where that redemptive work must take place.

Healthy multiethnic churches and their leaders are uniquely positioned to step into this moment, not because we are the most technologically advanced institution or people, but because we are the most theologically grounded. Healthy multiethnic churches cultivate cultural intelligence by regularly engaging the diversity of their communities. Leaders have learned to not just preach a message of reconciliation but bring it about. With wisdom from above, they compel others to recognize that human worth is not defined by productivity, efficiency, or optimization, but by being created by God, loving Him, and loving one another as He first loved us.

Healthy multiethnic churches carry within them the lived experience of diverse people living as one on mission, navigating cultural complexity, and holding unity without erasing difference. That is precisely the kind of wisdom needed in shaping AI.

This does not require every pastor to become an engineer. But it does require us to become more aware and attentive. That means creating space for diverse voices in our congregations to speak into how these technologies are understood and used. It means helping people see how AI affects different communities differently. It means building partnerships beyond our own cultural and institutional contexts. Perhaps most importantly, it means forming people who can engage technology with discernment… asking not just what is possible, but what is faithful.

This is not simply about adopting new tools. It is about formation. If the church is not intentional, it will find itself responding to people who have already been shaped by systems it did not help influence.The invitation before us is not to resist technology outright or to embrace it uncritically, but to:

• Engage it faithfully.
• Ensure that the voices shaping these systems reflect the diversity of the Body of Christ.
• Insist that human dignity is not lost in the pursuit of efficiency.
• Remember that wisdom cannot be automated.
• Bear witness that humanity’s future is not ultimately determined by what we build, but by who we become as the people of God.

In the end, our goal is not merely better technology, but a more faithful humanity. For in an age of intelligent machines, the church’s calling remains what it has always been: to ensure that what is being formed in people, culture, and even in code, reflects the justice, diversity, dignity, and love of God for every people, every culture, and every generation.

You typed a question.

It gave you an answer.

You thought, “Okay. I get it now.”

That’s exactly where most leaders start.

And here’s what I want you to know: Every pastor I talk to right now is somewhere on a six-level journey. The ones who feel underwhelmed by AI aren’t wrong about what they’ve seen. They just haven’t climbed high enough to see the view yet.

The view is worth the climb.

The journey has six distinct levels.

6 Levels on the AI Journey

Level 1: Tool

This is where almost everyone starts learning AI.

AI as a fancier search engine. You ask it something. It writes something back. You copy part of it, fix it up, and move on.

The mental model: “AI does tasks.” And yes, it does. Stay here, though, and you’ll spend the next five years asking AI to write your bulletin announcements and wondering what all the fuss is about.

Level 2: Intern

You start handing off real work.

First-draft communications. Volunteer email follow-ups. Meeting summaries. You give instructions, AI produces something, you check it, and send it out.

This is legitimately useful. Most ministry teams could multiply their output significantly just by operating at this level consistently.

The mindset shift: AI as a junior staff member you’re training and supervising. You’re still running every play by hand, though.

Level 3: Colleague

This is where something changes.

You stop assigning tasks and start thinking out loud together. You bring AI into the messy middle of a decision. You share a tension, a ministry problem without a clean answer, a strategic question you’ve been sitting with alone – and you work it through.

The thinking gets sharper. The output follows. Most leaders haven’t tried this yet. It’s available right now.

Level 4: Coordinator

Now you’re building workflows.

Multiple AI tools, connected. Output from one feeding into the next. Your Sunday teaching gets recorded, transcribed, turned into a devotional, clipped for social media, and dropped into your newsletter – without you touching each step individually.

The question changes here. “What should be happening automatically while I focus on people?” This is where ministry capacity starts to look genuinely different.

Level 5: Manager

The workflows run without you starting them.

Triggers. Schedules. Integrations. A guest fills out a connection card and the follow-up sequence begins. A member misses three weeks and someone on the care team gets a flag. A donor gives for the first time and a personal note goes out the same day.

You didn’t initiate any of it.

You built it once. Now it runs. AI as infrastructure.

Level 6: Executive

This is the frontier most people can’t picture yet.

Multiple AI agents working collaboratively toward your goals – passing information to each other, making decisions inside defined parameters, surfacing only the choices that actually need a human in the room. You bring the vision, the discernment, the pastoral heart. The agents handle the administrative load that’s been eating your hours for decades. This is closer than you think.

Where are you right now?

Be honest.

If you’re at Level 1 or 2, that’s the starting line. The only question is whether you’re moving or camping.

The leaders who will have the most impact in the next decade of ministry won’t have the biggest budgets or the largest staffs. They’ll be the ones who learned AI to think at a higher level sooner.

Innovation is moving fast. What took enterprise tech companies years to build, a pastor in a mid-size church can deploy this afternoon.

You were given a mission bigger than yourself. You don’t have to run all of it alone anymore.

What level are you actually operating at? And what would it take to move up one rung this month?

Exponential NEXT Podcast Episode 115

Series: Candid Conversations About Women and the Church

Description:

In this episode of Candid Conversations About Women and the Church, Ashley Weece shares her journey of planting a church alongside her husband while raising a young family. With honesty and grace, she reflects on the joys and challenges of ministry, her passion for serving the Church, and the realities of navigating both affirmation and opposition in her calling. Her story is a powerful testimony of faith, resilience, and faithful obedience to God.

Hosts:

Sue Ferguson – Women NEXT, Co-Director

Noemi Chavez – Women NEXT, Co-Director

Guest:

Ashley Weece – Iron Coast Church, Associate Pastor

Category: Women NEXT

It was 2016, I had just turned 50 and my wife and I and our adult children with their spouses were relocating to our third city to plant another “something.”  

We had previously planted in Portland, Oregon and Denver, Colorado.  But this time was different. 

Why were we going? Well, the simple answer is that we had sent our son Ryan to live in an adult facility for folks that live with severe physical disabilities. For several years, we had been visiting him three to four times a year and slowly we found ourselves curious about all the brokenness we saw as we drove around Alton, Illinois. 

For a town of roughly 40,000 people, there was a beautiful downtown. But 2/3rds of the buildings were boarded up and houses that would cost a million dollars in Denver were selling for $75,000. This town was just north of St. Louis, and like many rust belt towns, had lost 2/3 of its industry over the last 50 years. The average family income was $22,000 and 65% of its youth were fatherless. There was very little life in the downtown corridor and something beyond just wanting to be with our son seemed to loom over our hearts.

We knew Ryan was nearing the end of his short life, so it didn’t make sense to move there just to be near him. But we sensed that something beyond him would emerge. It all came to a head one night in an Italian bar.  We met a waitress by the name of Sasha.  About half- way through our meal, I asked “So Sasha, what do young people do in this town?” She quickly said, “Oh my friends just do drugs.” I’m not sure why I said this, but I pressed a bit. “Sasha has that been a struggle for you as well?” “Yessir, it has but I’m doing much better now that I have this job.”  

That was the point something shifted in our hearts.  I like to say evangelism is falling in emotional love with complete strangers and both Cheryl and I were in love. 

After we finished, we tipped her every dollar we had left and began to walk out of the restaurant. We were stopped by an older well-to-do looking couple and they asked if we were moving to Alton. I laughed, “Oh no sir, we were just trying to learn a bit more about it.”  They said they had overheard our conversation and his wife said, “All this town needs is a little encouragement. So it would be so great if you ever considered moving here”.

With that, my wife said on the way to the car, “Seriously, why don’t we move here and see if we can do something to help the town out?”  And so, we did. 

Our adult kids wanted to come too. So we left Denver cold turkey and three months later, we started to get our feet wet. We bought an abandoned crack house for $12,000 to fix for my daughter and son-in-law, a second home for our other daughter and her husband, and Cheryl and I bought a house right in between. There we were, all downtown, with no plan. But with some inkling that God would show us soon enough what we could do to help the town.

Church Planting Should Be About the Town, Not the Church

Why didn’t I want to plant another church? Well, we had done that twice and no matter how incarnationally we got started in homes, CrossFit gyms, living rooms, and coffee shops, it always ended up being about the church. Once there were enough people, it seems everyone just starts wanting more church… church services, church stability, church staff, etc. So, this time I think we wanted it to always be about the town not about the church.

Personally, I wanted to stretch beyond ecclesial expectations and formulas.  I didn’t want to do what I knew how to do. I didn’t want to follow some pre-prescribed equation and get the same results. I didn’t want to come in with an agenda… even if it was a good agenda. I didn’t want math, I wanted music. I wanted to see God do something totally different something akin to ‘binding and loosing’ as Jesus foreshadowed His followers would do. 

I wanted to see if it was true as Proverbs 11:10 says that “when the righteous prosper..the city rejoices.”  I wanted to see if Isaiah was laying down an ancient pathway for the true metrics of the Kingdom when he wrote, “you will be called repairers of city streets.” And for me personally, I had a private request I made to God. I didn’t want to try to pester grown adults to do things they didn’t want to do anymore. I didn’t want to provide a weekly church service where consumers could get a weekly fix. I didn’t want to work hard and hope some mud would stick on the wall. So, I prayed every morning as I walked the city. “Lord, mentor me in how to only do what I see the Father doing.” And then I’d always say, “Bring it to me…put bread on the trail so I know it’s you.” 

I was looking for a life of manna, where I could say at the end of the story… Jesus planted me and He showed me exactly what he wanted to do for and in this town.

Bread on the Trail

And so it started to happen. Six months later, a gentleman I had only met once before gave me a prominent building in the center of downtown that had been boarded up for 60 years. That was a big chunk of bread, but we knew it was a starting point. That turned into Post Commons with the goal to become the living room for Alton. It started with coffee, then brunch café, then it became a premier event space, co-working location for the locals, and pretty much the center of community life downtown. Then other people started to ask us to help them start their new businesses. We set up a central admin/finance team to help folks start good things. Our non-profit holding company’s purpose statement was to “incubate good works.” And it happened. Within this first eight years, nine for-profit businesses had begun, two non-profits, a youth basketball league, 80-acre equine therapy farm, and a handful of other unique Kingdom ‘tables’ formed, all from a small, committed neo-monastic band of apostolic and prophetically-oriented entrepreneurs.

Modern Day Trappists

Sometimes when people come to see what is happening and ask what we are doing, I say we are like a “neo-monastic” community.  No we don’t live in a commune, but most of us live within a mile of each other. We see each other almost daily in the businesses we have started and we have rhythms of life and work we all “work” on together.  

No one is paid for ministry because we all do the works of ministry for free. We get paid through our labor in the ecosystem of business. Monastic? No not in the traditional sense, but we take our cues from early Benedictine and Trappist servants whose 6th century motto was “ora et Labora.” Which meant “to pray is to work and our works are our prayers.”  Interestingly and historically, all other monastic orders would ask and beg for money, somewhat like a local church might. But the Benedictines were the enterprisal order and never had to ask for funding because they made all they needed from their works. For them, mission and the church and the needs of the cities they served in were all intertwined. But their unique economy allowed them to serve in the margins of human suffering and forge incredible, durable, and longstanding faith community. It was church for them, it seems like this was church in the book of Acts, and it is church for us now.

Apostolic Rivers vs. Shepherding Ponds

The apostolic and prophetic ones operate and orient different than the pastor/teacher orientation that has been leading the prevailing model for the last 50 years or so.  All the gifts and leadership orientations are identical in need and importance. But in the world of church planting, where we press and extend the movement forward, the pastor/teachers just don’t seem to be able to move it forward.  They have a natural orientation toward care, control, sustainability, depth, and faithfulness to the system or as some would call the “pond.” They like to pool the water and keep it contained, planting beautiful things along the serene path making a meaningful space for people to enjoy and get what they need. 

The apostolic and prophetic folks enjoy the enclave, but they can’t settle for it. Like the master who leaves the 99, they fall in love with waitresses in Italian bars down below the pond. The prophetic cry out and call out the brokenness that needs attention and the apostolic grab pickaxes and start ripping small ditches all around the pond so that the water keeps flowing downstream to the gates of hell.

The Gates of Hell, The Place Jesus Always Plants On

Remember when Jesus first mentioned his “church?” In Matthew 16, Jesus is talking to His young disciples and He tells them that He is going to build His church “here.” Where was He standing? On the rock that the people called “the gates of hell.” 

What does it mean for us? I think it means Jesus likes to establish His reign where dark dominions have taken hold. Where people lack access, where they grasp to find any hope at all and where most people would choose not to plant because it doesn’t offer much financial sustainability.  I think this is important because after watching the American church planting focus the last 50 years, it seems like we prioritize sustainability over brokenness. We raise capital up front and try to go into cities fully funded instead of going in broke and broken as Jesus sent His friends.

Entering Cities The Way Jesus Would

In Luke 10, Jesus sends 72 people into a town. This should be a plumbline passage for every planter. As you read, it seems like a divine progression that could apply to any planter and any town.  First go with nothing up front. Go unfunded. “Don’t take your pack with you.” Why? Most likely so that they would be dependent upon people and not go in like saviors bringing all the goods the town-folk needed. Jesus knew to win souls, you have to first win hearts and to win hearts you have to find or create an atmosphere of peace.

Next Jesus says find “peace.” Peace is the secret sauce. It’s like tilling or ground prep before planting is to be done. Peace can be one guy named Tom who seems to open doors, or it can be a coffee shop that God prompts you to start to bring a place of peace to others. It doesn’t really matter who or how, but Jesus knew peace proceeds everything else. Church services don’t always bring peace. Christians don’t always bring peace. But creating a “living room” for a downtown core of a city or starting basketball leagues for fatherless kids or helping start a warming center for the homeless or providing free workspace for 300 people a week all brought us incredible peace with our city. 

Archaeology and Artistry

Now after roughly a decade since we landed in Alton, people come for day long immersions to see all the different “tables” that have been created. Often someone will say, “I’m just not as creative or knowledgeable as your network seems to be.” My response is to remind them that neither were we. Remember bread on the trail? All we did was ask God to show us what He wanted to do in this town and then we would learn how to do what He was doing. 

All good missionaries (church planters) must dig before you create.

The subtitle of the Brave Cities book is the “archaeology, artistry, and architecture of Kingdom ecosystems.” The archaeology is all the work that goes into digging for where the brokenness is. It’s not a programmatic offering, nor is it a quick demographic study.  It is an incarnational commitment to live among the context you hope to plant seeds in. It’s the tilling season, listening season, looking around, asking good questions, feeling the pain because it’s your pain too. It’s life in the gates of hell. 

Once you live among those you hope to help, then the ideas and visions will start to come as to what song God wants you to sing, what table He wants you to build and what issue He wants you to address.  The artistry is what you do as a response to what you’ve dug and found. It’s like pulling the vines off of Babylon while you forge a creative, artistic response to the brokenness you see. When I was given the building, you could see the Kingdom of God all over it. Its location was central, it’s where the entire town used to come every day because it was their post office. It was beautiful, perfectly positioned, and historically important to the vibrations of city life. But the vines of Babylon had covered it up. This is an important understanding. We don’t build the Kingdom. The Kingdom of God is already established through the resurrection of Jesus. But it’s hidden and covered like this old building was. The artistry is to uncover it and make it accessible again.

A Brave City Within The City You Are Called To

This is why we view church and church planting as building a Kingdom city in the middle of the city you live in. We don’t think we can change Alton, but we can build a city that reflects the culture of the Kingdom right in the middle of it. This is an important nuance because often in church planting we try to fix things like poverty, homelessness, loneliness, etc.  But Babylon rules on earth. So you can try to fix the homelessness of Portland, Oregon but you’re going to lose because the forces at play are not working with you. So you don’t quit and leave Babylon, nor do you have to partner with Babylon. Instead, you create an alternative community of good works, and good people that bravely live against the currents of the world and slowly cherry pick people out of darkness.

We can’t fix fatherlessness in Alton, but when we start a basketball league for these boys, we can tell them that they now have fathers. We can’t fix homelessness for our whole city. But we can take several men and women into our homes so they are not homeless anymore. We can’t help every outsider to find a community, but we can plant a network of vibrant people-oriented businesses all over so that it’s hard for people searching to miss you. 

Our story may seem strange to traditional church leaders or church planters, but we find this story dead in the center in the book of Acts led by an apostle who said, “He worked among them so as not to be a burden and so he could provide for himself and his friends.’

Ancient ark-like communities were the original template and, if you look hard enough, you’ll see them popping up everywhere. These Brave Cities always seem to create an ecosystem of benevolent businesses, justice works, and intentional homes that provide not only spiritual pathways for people to find God, but they literally change the atmosphere and the soil so that long-term change can occur at the deepest spiritual levels.   

Jesus does build His church and He asks us to bind and loosen. But church services never were and can never be the front edge of this Kingdom spear. It must come through the entrepreneurial and artistic missionaries that find their sustainability and their mission through work, working, and works of the Kingdom.

Questions to Consider:

1. How might Jesus plant Himself in your city?
2. Do you trust that Jesus has unique ways of unlocking spiritual movement in your city?
3. Would you be willing to trade in your math for living and leading people toward their unique music?
4. What does it look like for you to seek and find bread on the trail each day?
5. What would change if your view of church was that of an ecosystem of benevolent businesses, justice works, and intentional homes vs. just a church service?

To find Brave Cities book or our coaching community, go to www.bravecities.com.

Every woman who has led for any length of time knows this feeling: The quiet awareness that a season is turning and change is afoot, even before she can name why.

Scripture is full of leaders who experienced this same holy nudge. Philip was in the middle of a thriving ministry when the Spirit redirected him to a desert road for a significant encounter (Acts 8). Abraham was invited to leave everything familiar without knowing his destination (Genesis 12). Samuel learned to recognise God’s voice only through the patient guidance of a mentor (1 Samuel 3). Ruth stepped into an unknown future out of courageous loyalty and deep conviction (Ruth 1).

These stories remind us that God prepares His people for transition in many ways:  suddenly, slowly, through wise counsel, through relational pull, through curiosity, through restlessness. But always with purpose. 

Isaiah 30:21 assures us that God’s voice is gently guiding the next steps: “Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’”  Before we can respond to a shifting season, we must first learn to listen. Before we can step into whatever is next, we must recognize the God who is already speaking.

My own journey began with a shift I could not yet name. There was a grace that was quietly lifting and a God who was stirring a deep curiosity for where I was and where I may be heading. What followed was a season of discernment, surrender, and surprising clarity. It was revelatory that transitions are leadership moments, not just logistical ones. How I navigated the in-between would shape the condition of my soul in the season ahead. Leaving well, I discovered, is not just about how we exit a role, it is also about how we walk with God and His people through the transition. Leaving well is what enables us to be well in the next season. 

Leaving Well – Be Well

Most leaders know how to leave professionally well. They complete handover documents, finish projects, and say their goodbyes. These things matter as they honor the people who have served and the work we have stewarded.

My own transition after 10 years of tenure was complex and confusing for many involved. I could sense a new chapter forming, yet the circumstances around me were shifting in ways I didn’t fully understand or necessarily agree with. It took intentionality to leave well, not because the season was dramatic, but because it was layered, tender, and required wisdom. Choosing to leave well became an act of trust and surrender. But leaving well is not just a professional duty. It is a spiritual practice. A relational commitment. A posture of the heart.  And here is what I discovered in that season: leaving well directly shapes the condition of your soul in the next season.

For me, the impact of leaving well was immediate and embodied. I could breathe deeper. My pace slowed to something more human. I found myself discerning with more clarity because my inner world was no longer cluttered with unfinished conversations or unresolved tension. I wasn’t idle. I allowed myself to have space to dream again. Leaving well created room inside me for God to restore, reorder, and realign what had been compressed over years of competing priorities of leadership.

I learned that leaving well meant tending to four areas of my life: my relationship with God, my relationships with people, my responsibilities, and my words.

Being well with God

Before anything else, I needed to anchor myself in His presence, remembering that I am a child of God and He delights in me. Psalm 18:19: “He brought me out into a broad place; he rescued me, because he delighted in me.”  From this position I can also delight in Him and trust that He will direct my path (Psalm 37:4).

Discernment is rarely instant, it is a slow and sacred act of listening. 

Practices that helped me:

• Setting aside unhurried time each week to sit with God, not to produce, but to listen
• Immersed myself in scripture surround by nature 
• Journalling what I sensed, even when it felt unclear or incomplete
• Praying with open hands as a physical posture of surrender and trust

Being well with people

Leaving can stir up emotions within ourselves and others around us.  Romans 12:18 guided me: “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” 

Practices that helped me:

• Scheduling intentional conversations with key people before I left
• Offering specific gratitude rather than general thanks
• Asking, “Is there anything we need to clear up before I go?”
• Choosing to bless people in my words, even when the season had been complex

Being well in my responsibilities

Colossians 3:23 reminded me to “work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord.” 

Practices that helped me:

• Creating a simple handover plan with timelines and priorities
• Documenting processes and insights so the next person could thrive
• Completing what was mine to complete and releasing what was no longer mine to carry (can be hard but necessary)
• Working with my supervisor, “What would finishing well look like for this organization?”

I completed what was mine to complete and released what was no longer mine to carry.

Being well in my words and posture

How we speak about a season ending shapes how we enter the next one. Practices that helped me:

• Preparing a short, honest, God-honouring explanation for why I was leaving
• Avoiding unnecessary detail that could distract from the bigger story God was writing
• Praying and speaking life over the organization, even as I stepped away

I reminded myself daily: My words sow seeds for the next season.

A pastoral note: Leaving well does not mean staying in environments marked by manipulation, coercion, or abuse. If you are in a harmful situation, the most faithful and courageous thing you can do is seek help and step away. God’s heart is always for your safety, dignity, and wellbeing.

Ongoing discernment

As I tended to these four areas of my relationship with God, my relationships with people, my responsibilities, and my words, I began to realise something important: discernment does not end once a decision is made. It continues as a gentle, ongoing posture. Discernment is the slow work of noticing what brings life, what drains it, what aligns with God’s character, and what stirs holy curiosity. Even after I stepped out of my role, I found myself listening in a different way. I was not striving for answers but staying attentive to God’s invitations as they unfolded. Leaving well didn’t close the discernment process; it deepened it.

When Clarity Begins to Rise

As I began to leave well something unexpected happened: clarity began to rise. Not all at once, and not in a dramatic moment, but slowly just like how the dawn light reveals what had been there all along.

And as the light grew, I realized something else had been happening beneath the surface. There had been a quiet formation taking place of an unseen shaping of my desires, my courage, my capacity, my tenderness. The Spirit had been softening what needed softening, strengthening what needed strengthening, and preparing me in ways I could not yet name. Like Samuel learning to discern God’s voice, or Ruth discovering purpose on a road she never planned to walk, God had been forming something in me long before I understood it.

A few years earlier, a trusted leader had challenged me to think about the “convergence years” of my life, a concept from Robert Clinton’s The Making of a Leader. Clinton describes convergence as the season when a leader’s gifts, experiences, passions, and calling align for maximum Kingdom impact. At the time, I tucked that conversation away. I wasn’t thinking about transition. But God was planting a significant seed.

Though my spirit sensed that change was afoot, when the season where I was thriving in ministry was coming to an end, I was not ready.  Then came a season of wrestling. For months I walked the same path near my house, asking God all the questions. Why now? What’s next? What about the people I love? What about the work I’ve poured myself into?

And beneath all of that was a quieter, more vulnerable fear: What if I miss out on something when I leave? What if the sense of fulfilment I had known would never return?  These were not dramatic fears, just the honest, human questions that surface when a long season ends. Naming them helped me address them with my mentor.

One morning, completely out of questions, I surrendered to the silence. As I approached a small pond, I noticed a cluster of birds feeding along the water’s edge. Nothing dramatic. Just ordinary birds doing what birds do. But Jesus’ words came rushing back: “Look at the birds… Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6:26).

Something in me unclenched. The weight of “what’s next?” loosened its grip. And in that quiet moment, I sensed God whisper: Serve the local church from a different seat.  It wasn’t a strategy. It wasn’t a job description. It was an invitation that was much like Philip’s redirection, Abraham’s unknown journey, Samuel’s slow learning, and Ruth’s courageous step into the unfamiliar. It reaffirmed in me that my calling wasn’t ending. It was expanding.

As I anchored myself in Ephesians 2:10, that “we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do,” something settled in me. The truth is, God had been shaping me for years in ways I could not yet see. The good works ahead of me were not random opportunities but part of a story God had already begun writing. That realization freed me: God was inviting me to walk into the ‘next’ He had already prepared.

Convergence, for me, felt like permission to be creative with the gifts, skills, experience, and calling God had shaped in me. It felt like God was saying: You get to choose the adventure. Not in a reckless way, but in a deeply aligned way. It was the freedom to imagine, to explore, to step into opportunities that resonated with who I had become.

This was not a lightning bolt moment. It was a steady, faithful pace. A convergence of calling, character, and courage.

One of the most transformative shifts in my journey was moving from “What’s next?” to “Whatever is next.”  As “What’s next?” is a question of strategy but “Whatever is next,” as I learned, is a posture of surrender.

Ruth did not know what her future held. She simply trusted God and walked faithfully into the unknown. Her “whatever is next” posture positioned her for a future she could never have imagined… a future that placed her in the very lineage of Jesus.

After leaving, I took time to rest, not the kind that comes from collapsing after burnout, but the kind that restores, recalibrates, and re-energises. Psalm 23 became a companion: “He restores my soul.” Rest was not a pause in my calling. Rest was preparation for my calling. In that space, God realigned my heart, renewed my vision, and readied me for the next assignment.

Stepping Into Your Transition with Courage

If you are in a season of transition, I encourage you: slow down long enough to listen. Invite trusted voices into the journey. Reflect on how God has been preparing you… it is longer than you think. Tend to your relationships with love and integrity. Finish well. Embrace rest as obedience. Then step into “whatever is next” with faith. With God by your side, you are not drifting, you are being led.

Like Ruth, may the road you choose in faith become the place where God unfolds what He has prepared and meets you with grace for every step. May the God who leads with kindness guide your steps and steady your heart as you step into whatever is next.

NOTES

Clinton, R. (2018). The Making of a Leader: Recognizing the Lessons and Stages of Leadership Development. United Kingdom: The Navigators.

Exponential NEXT Podcast Episode 114

Series: Candid Conversations About Women and the Church

Description:

In this episode of Candid Conversations About Women and the Church, we are joined by Vanessa Cruz as shares thoughtful insights on the discipleship needs of the next generation. Drawing from her work with Urban Youth Workers Institute, she offers a compelling vision for whole-life discipleship and its transformative impact on young people today. Vanessa highlights the importance of shaping not only the future of the Church, but also investing deeply in the spiritual formation, leadership, and flourishing of the next generation in the present.

Hosts:

Sue Ferguson – Women NEXT, Co-Director

Noemi Chavez – Women NEXT, Co-Director

Guest:

Vanessa Cruz – Urban Youth Workers Institute, Director of Church Leadership

Links Shared in Episode:

Urban Youth Workers Institute

Category: Women NEXT

Exponential NEXT Podcast Bonus Episode

Description:

What if the biggest shifts shaping the future of the Church are already happening…and most leaders are just starting to notice?

In this one-hour conversation, Dave Ferguson, Carey Nieuwhof, and Carrie Williams unpack the 7 Disruptive Church Trends Defining 2026…from the surprising rise of Gen Z faith to the quiet crisis of leadership pipelines, from algorithm-driven discipleship to the looming impact of AI.

This isn’t just a trends conversation, it’s a wake-up call and a window of opportunity.

You’ll explore:

• Why young adults are returning to church in unexpected ways
• The troubling gap as young women disengage while men re-engage
• How evangelism is moving from the stage to the street (and screen)
• Why preaching must shift from content delivery to real encounter
• The reality that your church is competing with algorithms for discipleship
• A coming leadership shortage few churches are ready for
• And how AI will reshape everything…and why the Church might be uniquely positioned to respond

This special bonus podcast episode is both hopeful and sobering…a conversation about renewal, disruption, and what it will take to faithfully lead in a rapidly changing world.

If you care about the future of the Church, this is a conversation you can’t afford to miss.

Hosts:

Dave Ferguson – Exponential CEO, President, and Co-Founder

Carrie Williams – Executive Director of Exponential NEXT

Guest:

Carey Nieuwhof – Best-Selling Author, Speaker, Pastor, and Podcaster

Links Shared in Episode:

2026 Church Trends Report

Exponential National Conferences

West

Central

Women in the Church Survey Report 2025

Category: Exponential NEXT

I might work on a sermon, engage the people of my community, and sip a divine dirty chai all at once. Bougie coffee spots were a one stop shop for my lazy, middle-class outreach. 



For those of us who minister amongst the urban poor, coffee houses are rare and often a sign of a future real estate boom where the neighborhood slowly becomes reshaped for obvious wealthier outsiders. I’m not talking about “the city.” I’m talking HOOD. 


The closest coffee place in our hood had needles and worse in the bathrooms and people threw rocks at the baristas, turning it into a drive through only.

This is the hood. I’m talking about ghetto birds, liquor stores, and smoke shops. Dogs running wild and the weeds, which are the only bit of green in sight, growing from concrete. A place where Norteño bands make ear drums bleed in cramped taquerias. 



The question becomes, “How can you live on mission when there are few jobs here and the city has given priority to every other community?” My advice is simple: Stop leaving for greener pastures, wear out your shoes, and live hyper local. I’ve once heard it said we need to build bridges that can withstand the weight of truth. But how can you build bridges without places to hang out?
 It turns out there are PLENTY of places to spend time in the inner city.   

The Schools

My first friendships in Mt. Hope outside of my closest neighbors were at our local elementary school, Chollas Mead. I remember sitting with the parents and talking before and after school, while working on my terrible Spanish. (I grew up learning Spanish but only the curse words stuck!) 
When the school was getting the short end of the stick, it was the parents who first told me all the disadvantages of having a kid without the help they deserved. 

Pastor Dhati Lewis says, “Nothing is really a problem until it becomes your problem.” Having my children in the local school meant I wanted to fight for my kids and the other children in our community as well. Now, I recognize not all pastors should put their families in local public schools, that is a highly personal choice. But it wasn’t long before parents were asking me about certain controversial lessons being taught in the school and if they contradicted the Bible. 

Our family’s presence meant we were able to advocate on behalf of all children, in areas of faith and deserved resources. Both my wife and I are products of public schools and we were both saved while going to public school. So being comfortable there and seeing the opportunity to serve the community in this way just made sense.

When my children got older, they attended a local charter school in our community, where they only knew one Christian. My wife and I prayed God would provide Christians, but none appeared. Soon we prayed God would save our kid’s friends. And as we got involved in the Bible club on Mondays, we saw many come to faith. 

They didn’t all suddenly start going to our church. Instead, it was an investment in the Kingdom. Many remained Catholic at the demand of their parents, but now many kids at the school attend Bible club, talking about Jesus and bringing their Bibles to public school.  But it all started when we decided to commit to our local schools. Also, we went to lots of meetings where the coffee always sucked. 



The Streets

Very early on in our first year I realized people in our community were not going to come to church services so I could share the gospel. I would have to chase after them. In a moment of despair, I picked up “On the Block” by Doug Logan. I saw the way he used his passion for dogs to reach his community. I was tired of my own fear and inaction and felt inspired by Pastor Logan to hit the pavement. I started knocking on doors and offering prayer like an old school pastor or like the Mormons who intentionally avoid my house. But it worked. I didn’t have more people coming to my church, but I DID have the honor of praying for those who desperately needed prayer for hopeless situations. 

I also started walking the streets several times weekly. My lack of melanin made me an instant suspect for snitch or cop, but I just kept going. I talked to everyone I saw. And if I was afraid of someone, I would often prayerfully approach them. Over time I made friends with gang members. I usually stayed away from certain corners where drive-bys were expected, but I engaged anyone who would let me. I wore out my shoes and then I wore out the next pair and the next. 

I met incredible Christians already doing great Kingdom work and many people who wanted this goofy white boy to go away forever. But I just kept walking, talking, stopping, praying. I’ve prayed beside shooting victims in hospitals. I’ve performed CPR during a fentanyl overdose. I’ve called for multiple ambulances. I once anointed the men in our park and prayed over them while anxiously waiting for a violent response from a rival gang. I could’ve gone to coffee places, and I sometimes did. But walking our community and engaging everyone I met with purpose made me friends and well-wishers who came to trust me. For some of them, it took nine years to trust this guëro, pastor. But now they do. Because they know I love and pray for them. Even if Valentina hot sauce is too spicy for me. (It’s not hot.) 



The Savory

Mt. Hope is considered a “food swamp.” We have food, just not many healthy options. But, God is providing! Project New Village has a weekly market for veggies and fruit. We also have a small Mexican market in our community providing well-needed nutrition. And my feelings are, if I can buy it in Mt. Hope, I want to spend my time and money here first. If you want to meet with me, you are coming to Mt. Hope. 
You might get some ribs, greens, and black-eyed peas at Bowlegged BBQ or you might want some carne asada fries from Mariscos Altata. I’d never turn down a Philly bowl at Savio’s Pizza. 

How can I expect people to be loyal to Jesus if I’m not loyal to them? The food in Mt. Hope is the best. But surely if you prioritized the places in your own community, you would find the second-best food on the planet (second only to Mt. Hope). 



We are loyal to the soil here. I spread my dad’s ashes at Petco Park where the San Diego Padres play. How can we not be even more loyal to the place God has called us to share the gospel? When our church was offered a free building 10 minutes outside of Mt. Hope, we said no and continued to search because the poorest in our community couldn’t walk there. 

We eventually went into great debt for our current building, but I walk to church from my home, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Be hyper local. AND STAY when a better offer comes. If the gangs BLEED for their community and people are willing to sacrifice everything for their neighborhood, how might pastors be called to even deeper presence and commitment?

No wonder some people didn’t trust me until year 10. 

Advocate

And as you walk the streets you will start to notice the disparities.
I ask a lot of questions. Why are all the rec centers in opposing gang territories? 
Why doesn’t the city take care of our park? 
Why are the police allowed to shoot at their outdoor shooting range in our community late at night but nowhere else? 
Why do smaller, richer public schools in our district get a vice principal rather than our school with 85% ESL students and most kids below the poverty line? 

In 2020, we provided food the first week of the shutdown for our families in the school because we knew the families counted on meals for breakfast and lunch in the schools. Soon after we went to the district to make sure these families had what others took for granted like vaccines and other necessary care. 

My Giftings

As I walked the streets, I noticed things I was uniquely created for. I am a musician and a terrible aspiring muralist, but I love painting. So, when I noticed the motorcycle club in our community was tagged weekly, I decided to paint a small design to see if anyone would mess with it. The wall was instantly tagged, but NOT over my art. It stayed green.

I started painting more walls with more designs, all the while asking the residents and gangs how they felt about it. They loved it. Even gangs get tired of sloppy tagging. 

So, I started painting walls with Bible verses and pictures I thought my community might like. It looks silly compared to the professionals who painted a Tony Gwynn, Nipsey, and Kobe in our community, but it looks a LOT better than scribbling. I also learned the gangs tell others not to mess with it because I’ve earned respect over the years by putting in the time.
Most of “my flock” are not actually in the church. 

Pastor Pete Contreras says inner city pastors often don’t just pastor a church, but a whole community. That’s my goal. We don’t have a super hip coffee house, but we make conversation in the gutter, liquor stores, and restaurants. 
We chop it up at the community garden and the park. 
We make friends while painting walls for hours.
We sit at bus stops and on electrical boxes and listen as people give their lives to Jesus. 

People can have their bougie coffee.
I’ll make mine at home.
People can do church online.
I’m gonna wear out my Jordans. 



Why? Because most of my ministry happens on sidewalks, at bus stops, and in front yards. And because I live in the greatest place on the planet.
And these people are worth it. 


“About every five hundred years, the church feels compelled to hold a giant rummage sale.” This quote from Phyllis Tickle in her book, The Great Emergence: How Christianity is Changing and Why, captures our moment. 

We are in the middle of one of those giant rummage sales right now, where what we have held as sacred and dear is being questioned, and methods are being swapped for something new yet ancient; innovative yet classic.  

When I first began thinking seriously about digital discipleship, it wasn’t because I was fascinated by technology. It was because I was burdened by mission drift. I saw churches becoming disconnected from the people we longed to reach because their methods hadn’t adjusted to meet people where they were. Digital engagement had become a way of life for many people, yet the church felt threatened by it rather than seeing it as a way to meet people where they lived online. 

The Great Commission has not changed: “Go and make disciples.” Yet the way we have often organized our structures and people around that command has accumulated layers of sentimentality, tradition, and institutional preservation. Like clearing out my mother’s home after 38 years, I began to realize that the church, too, needed a rummage sale. 

I began to ask: Where can we go to meet people who need to hear the Gospel?  How do we make disciples today using all the resources available to us?

For decades, many churches equated discipleship with attendance, programming, and knowledge transfer. We systematized growth and created pathways. We filled calendars and held events. But increasingly, I saw a troubling gap: People were consuming Christian content without becoming transformed. We were inhaling deeply in God’s presence but rarely exhaling it into the world in a transformative way.

In Scripture, discipleship was never merely about acquiring information. A disciple followed a rabbi to become like the rabbi. It was a 24/7 formation, not an hour-long weekly event. It involved both receiving and giving. As I often define it, discipleship is becoming more like Jesus and helping others become more like Jesus. 

The problem I was trying to solve was not technological; it was theological. The digital platform wasn’t the point. It was the tool to help us accomplish the point, which has always been about discipleship. How do we help ordinary believers live out the Great Commission in a world that increasingly gathers digitally? And what if digital spaces were not the enemy of discipleship but one of the clearest mission fields of our time?

What Has Happened Since: Fruit Across Miles

Digital Discipleship began in 2021, not as a strategy but as a simple act of obedience, showing up online with the gospel and inviting conversation.  I was serving on a church staff as Multi-Campus Director.  It was my job to plant new campuses of our church and ensure they aligned with our vision: people becoming more like Jesus.  While I was ready to embrace new technology and ways to reach new people, the leadership at my church was not.  They reluctantly allowed me to start an online campus after much pleading, but six months into the project, they wanted to pull the plug, saying it was not an effective ministry.  They didn’t share my vision for what digital discipleship was doing and could do for people in the future.  

I was sure of my calling and the direction God was leading me. So I left staff and found a new job that would allow me to continue this blossoming digital ministry. I have never looked back or wished I had made a different decision. Every day since then, I have been amazed at how God continues to show up in this work, and I am thankful for how we have grown and spread. We have connected with people from over 50 countries (we stopped counting) and reach thousands daily through our three ministries: The Online Chapel (daily discipleship), Becoming More (seasonal small groups for men and women), and Victory Children’s Outreach (a sponsorship program where we put our discipleship into action).  

In my book, Digital Discipleship: Reimagining the Great Commission in a Digital World, I share stories of the people who have been part of our journey and helped shape the ministry we have become. One of the earliest and most formative relationships that emerged was with a young man named Frank in Mityana, Uganda. What began as a Facebook message I sent to Frank, “How can I pray for you?” became a global discipleship relationship. Frank was a 20-year-old orphan raising five younger relatives, also orphans. Through prayer, connection, and collaboration across continents, tuition sponsors were found. Stability emerged. Education resumed. But the true fruit was not financial provision; it was discipleship multiplication.

During a two-week school break, Frank prayed about how to serve God. He began visiting neighbors, sharing the Gospel, and praying with families. Within days, new members joined our WhatsApp group because of his witness. A woman in Georgia, whom I didn’t know but was living in my home state, met Frank through our groups and organized a fundraiser to purchase 100 Bibles for his community. The digital became embodied. The online became incarnational. Frank was not merely being discipled; he was discipling.

Similarly, Josh N., a young man in Jinja, Uganda, faithfully participated in our daily Bible reading and prayer rhythms. When he suddenly disappeared from our online community, we learned he had sold his phone to pay his siblings’ school fees. A friend located him in person. He was not forgotten. He was family and our community missed his presence. Later, Josh began attending a local church and brought others with him. 

Digital Discipleship by the numbers: 

• Facebook: 4.5K in the Online Chapel for daily discipleship and weekly worship
• Facebook: 1.6K in men’s and women’s Becoming More groups for seasonal small groups
• Facebook: 500 members of Victory Children’s Outreach, 110 kids sponsored for school
• WhatsApp: 500 individuals in 25 groups organized by geographic location
• TikTok: 2K followers for daily discipleship

The measurable fruit of digital discipleship has included:

• Daily Scripture engagement across multiple countries
• Live weekly prayer gatherings
• WhatsApp community for ongoing discipleship
• Sponsorship pathways that move from digital connection to tangible support
• Individuals moving from conforming faith to probing faith to growing faith 
• Local church re-engagement sparked by online formation

But the deeper impact is harder to quantify:

• Isolation replaced with belonging
• Questions asked safely at a distance
• Ordinary believers activated as disciplers
• The Kingdom prioritized over individual congregational competition

Digital spaces have become places where inhaling God’s presence and exhaling love out into the world happen together.

Lessons Learned and Pivots Along the Way

1. Content Alone Is Not Discipleship

When we first started, we focused on planning content. We laid out plans and strategies for communicating the Gospel clearly to those who may be disconnected from a church. But we soon were reminded that content isn’t the point; discipleship is. And discipleship is built on relationship. We had to build ways to foster relationships through our content.

We began implementing a strategy for responding to questions and inquiries via private messages. We encouraged interaction by asking questions of people, not just communicating to them. We hosted live sessions where we could have real-time conversations with people. Content was not the point; it was a means to accomplish the point. 

2. The Scarcity Mindset Is a Bigger Obstacle Than Technology

One of the most common objections I’ve heard is that digital ministry “steals” people from physical churches. I’ve even been accused of “double-discipling” people, meaning we should not offer discipleship to those already attending a church. The thinking is that everyone should be loyal to just one teacher or one congregation and not seek instruction or Christian community elsewhere.  Each local church is a one-stop shop for discipleship and spiritual formation. This objection often reveals a deeper problem: We have confused making disciples of Jesus with building disciples of our individual churches. 

The question remains: Are we making disciples of Christ, or of our brand? Digital Discipleship forced me to confront this personally. If someone is being discipled by multiple voices yet growing in Christ, is that a threat or a gift? Are the people in our online ministry “my people “ or “your people”? When I look back at how many different voices and people have influenced my personal spiritual growth, I can’t overstate how important it was to have a wide variety of voices and perspectives investing in my discipleship. The pivot was internal before it was methodological. We focus on working together as the body of Christ to build the Kingdom, rather than worrying about our own little kingdoms.  We see all people as “God’s people” and do what we can to be faithful to the calling He has given us.

3. Start With Why

Many churches approach digital ministry with this motivation: “We need to survive,” which they think means going online. As if having some sort of online content or posting a Bible verse will save a dying church.  That is simply not a compelling enough vision. People outside the church don’t care whether your church survives. They aren’t motivated to join your church just so you can keep the lights on. They want to know how your church will meet their needs, not how they can meet your needs.  

Using Simon Sinek’s Golden Circle framework, I reframed our digital efforts:

• Why? The gospel
• How? The power of the Holy Spirit
• What? Make disciples 

Digital tools are not going to save your church. They are simply vehicles. If survival is your why, burnout will follow. If the Gospel is your why, endurance becomes possible.

4. Digital Space Is Especially Powerful for Probing Faith

Many individuals today are in what I call “probing faith,” a season of questioning, deconstructing, and wrestling through their faith. Traditional church settings often feel unsafe for their doubts and, in some places, have contributed to the hurt that sparked their probing in the first place. While some see probing faith as a threat to a believer’s development, I see it as a normal part of owning one’s faith. The Gospel is not fragile; it can withstand the toughest doubts and deepest deconstruction.  

Digital platforms allow questions to be asked from a safe distance. They provide space for exploration without immediate social pressure. We have seen countless individuals move from deconstruction to reconstruction because someone answered a message, prayed in a comment thread, or communicated openly during a live prayer. Digital discipleship has become a bridge for those who might never walk through a physical sanctuary door, creating a safe space for doubts and questions.

How the Vision Has Evolved

Originally, I thought digital discipleship was primarily about extending the local church’s reach. Now I see it as multiplying agency, training disciples who train disciples. At first, I saw myself as a teacher creating content for others. Over time, I began to see my role as activating disciplers, moving them from consumers to contributors and then to creators. 

Digital discipleship is not about creating centralized platforms where one voice speaks to many. It is about equipping many to disciple many.

The vision has shifted from:

• Broadcasting to cultivating
• Content creation to community formation
• Institutional reinforcement to Kingdom collaboration
• Saving churches to sending disciples
• One voice to many voices

It has also deepened my theology of presence. We often equate presence with physical proximity, but it’s about intentional engagement. It’s about two souls being together across the miles, synced by a common mission and an intentional desire to share life. The digital does not replace the embodied church. It can prepare, strengthen, and extend it.

Encouragement for Leaders Launching New Initiatives

If you are considering launching a digital discipleship initiative, here is what I would say:

1. Operate with Open Hands

Never in my wildest dreams could I have planned out how the Spirit would move through our digital ministries and platforms.  Had I set a strict five-year goal and growth plan, I would have led people far from where we are today.  Keep your hands open. Take opportunities as they come. Trust the Spirit to lead and be the first follower.

2. Clarify Your Why Before You Clarify Your Platform

If your motivation is fear, pause. If your motivation is relevance, rethink. If your motivation is the Gospel, proceed. Start with the Great Commission, not analytics.

3. Focus on Relationships Over Reach

Metrics matter, but multiplication matters more. One Frank who disciples his neighborhood is more powerful than 10,000 passive viewers. Ask yourself, “Are people moving from consumers to being contributors in the mission?”

4. Build Rhythms, Not Events

Daily Scripture reading. Weekly prayer. Consistent check-ins. Digital discipleship thrives on rhythm. It mirrors spiritual formation itself, steady, relational, iterative.  People trust people who are consistent.

5. Expect Resistance But Don’t Internalize It

Some will believe digital ministry weakens the church. Others will see it as competition. Gently but firmly return to the mission: we are called to make disciples of Jesus, not to protect our preferences. Scarcity thinking shrinks vision. Kingdom thinking expands it.

6. Remember: Discipleship Is Both Personal and Communal

Discipleship is not outsourced to clergy. It is not limited to private spirituality. It is a shared responsibility. Digital spaces can foster authentic community when intentionality is high and ego is low. Remind yourself that discipleship is a relationship, not the consumption of content. Help bring people into the community through regular interactions and conversations.  

7. Don’t Wait Until You Feel Ready

The original disciples were not institutional experts. They were ordinary people changed by Jesus. If you have been transformed, you are qualified to begin.  Don’t wait for a large group to join you or a budget to begin.  If you have a phone and a calling in your heart, get started. 

The Rummage Sale Continues

We are living through a season of church rummage sales. Some things need to be let go, not because they were wrong, but because they no longer serve the mission in the same way. Digital discipleship is not a trend. It is not a pandemic pivot. It is not a marketing strategy. It is a recentering on the command that has always defined us:

Go.
Make disciples.
Trust that He is with us to the end of the age.

The tools have changed. The mandate has not.

And perhaps, if we are willing to clear the clutter and reimagine obedience, we will see not just revival of attendance, but renewal of discipleship.