Shepherd's Corner (January 28th, 2026)

Grace and peace to you from our loving Lord Jesus Christ—grace and peace to all who love our Lord with an undying love.

When I returned to the United States after about ten years in South Korea, I felt disoriented by more than a few things: the cost of living, cultural shifts, and even smaller changes—like how uncommon it has become to see people carry paper Bibles into worship. Feeling like a stranger, I found myself wondering what Moses might have felt returning to his “homeland” after forty years in the wilderness (I don’t dare compare myself to Moses). But I do know this: Moses’ greatest challenges weren’t only Pharaoh and the Egyptian army. God’s people often preferred the familiarity of Egypt over the slow, unsettling transition into the Promised Land.

Now the rabble that was among them had a strong craving. And the people of Israel also wept again and said, “Oh that we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we ate in Egypt that cost nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. But now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing at all but this manna to look at” (Numbers 11:4–6).

I pray for our church’s awakening daily as we walk through a real season of transition. It’s tough—I know. And to be honest, it’s not a transition I would have chosen either. But I believe it is necessary. Let me share, in broad strokes, what I see in the “landscape” of churches today, because it helps us understand what we are facing and why we must move forward wisely.

Two currents have been moving through the American church simultaneously.

First, the “big and building-centric” model that once looked unshakable has shown how quickly it can destabilize. When a church’s identity becomes tightly bound to a platform, a brand, or a central personality, the whole structure can tremble under scandal, leadership fracture, or financial pressure. Widely reported examples—like Willow Creek’s steep post-2019 attendance decline and subsequent staffing reductions—remind us that scale can magnify fragility. And we have watched global networks reconfigure or shrink when prolonged turmoil forces campuses to separate, rename, or rebuild under new leadership.

Second, many younger adults are not simply “done with church.” The story is more complicated. Pew Research Center’s Religious Landscape Study suggests that the long decline of Christian identification may have slowed or leveled off in recent years. At the same time, Pew also cautions that stability in affiliation is not the same thing as a clear revival among young adults. Still, there is a visible current—especially among some young adults—toward worship that feels weighty, reverent, historically rooted, and embodied. Some describe this renewed interest in “liturgy” not as an aesthetic preference, but as a longing for stability, seriousness, and spiritual formation rather than religious entertainment.

These currents expose a hunger. Many—especially among the younger generation—are tired of church-as-spectacle, tired of constant novelty, tired of being marketed to, and tired of institutions that seem allergic to honest accountability. One reason the younger generation struggles to embrace their “father’s church” isn’t only an age gap. It’s often a values-and-culture gap. If a previous generation could sometimes center church life around buildings, programs, and even pastors, the next generation tends to gravitate toward relationships, shared ownership, and authenticity. They want the Gospel, not “Churchianity.”

So what are we to do?

We must equip the saints so that we are not dependent on infrastructure. We must train and mobilize the saints so that the life of the church is not carried by a few professionals, as if Christ designed his church to run on a permanent “clergy class.”

And here is the irony: the way to become less dependent on pastors is not to do away with pastors. It is to have better pastors—humble, qualified, Scripture-saturated shepherds—who joyfully equip the church until the whole body can carry the life of the church.

And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ (Ephesians 4:11–12).

Christ gives shepherds and teachers precisely so that the saints are trained and mobilized for ministry (Ephesians 4:11–12).

Seminaries and denominations are not perfect, but they are one tested way of examining doctrine, character, and competency—so that a church is not left vulnerable to charismatic personalities who are unaccountable, untrained, or unqualified.

This matters even more because pastoral strain is real. Barna has tracked how sharply the percentage of pastors considering quitting spiked during the crisis years (not as an excuse, but as a signal of how spiritually and emotionally costly ministry can be), even as some indicators have improved more recently. If we want a healthier church culture, we must build one where pastors equip, and people share the load—and where we refuse the unbiblical expectation that a few staff members should carry what Christ designed the whole body to bear.

Let me flesh out more of what I believe God has been placing on my heart and mind in the days to come, including at our Annual Congregational Meeting. I am not claiming a “Moses at Mount Sinai” moment. I never do. I’m sharing my heart and mind to invite your thoughtful comments, your prayerful support, and your heartfelt commitment as we seek to build God’s church at Riverside Community Church—a House of Prayer for All Nations.

In His Grace Alone,

Pastor Brian Lee