One of the defining commitments of my leadership life has been a willingness—sometimes a stubborn willingness—to change.

Not change for novelty’s sake.
Not change because something is broken.
But change because growth, learning, and faithfulness demand it.

When I look back over my years in ministry, one pattern stands out clearly: about every five years, I learned a new way to preach—and I changed my style.

Preaching as a Living Practice

Early in my ministry, I preached the way I had been taught. I absorbed the forms, structures, and rhythms of those who shaped me. It was faithful. It was earnest. And for that season, it was right.

But after several years, something happened. I began to realize that preaching is not a static skill you master once—it is a living practice. Cultures shift. People change. My own understanding of Scripture deepens. And if my preaching remains frozen in a single form, it eventually stops serving the people in front of me.

So I learned.

I studied different homiletical approaches. I listened to preachers outside my tradition. I experimented with narrative, teaching-driven preaching, dialogical preaching, and text-driven exposition. Every five years or so, I intentionally allowed my preaching to be reshaped.

Not because the gospel changed—but because the way I carried it needed to grow.

Change Is Not Instability

Some leaders fear change because they associate it with instability. They worry that adapting means they were wrong before, or that people will feel unsettled.

I’ve come to believe the opposite.

Refusing to change is often the greater instability.

When leaders stop learning, they don’t preserve clarity—they preserve stagnation. When we cling to familiar methods long after they’ve stopped serving their purpose, we slowly drift out of alignment with the people God has entrusted to us.

Change, when rooted in conviction and discernment, is not a threat to leadership. It is a sign of maturity.

The Excitement of Something New

There is a quiet joy that comes with learning something new—especially when it stretches you.

Every time I reshaped my preaching, I felt that mixture of discomfort and excitement. I had to unlearn habits. I had to listen more carefully. I had to risk not being as polished at first. But in those seasons, preaching came alive again—not just for the congregation, but for me.

That same excitement carries into every area of leadership.

New approaches create new energy. New questions open new doors. New perspectives help us see blind spots we didn’t even know we had.

Change doesn’t drain faithful leaders—it often revitalizes them.

What This Has Taught Me About Leadership

Over time, my preaching journey became a metaphor for leadership itself.

Healthy leaders:

• Remain curious
• Stay teachable
• Refuse to let past success dictate future faithfulness
• Understand that methods are tools, not sacred objects

I’ve learned that leadership is not about perfecting a single approach—it’s about continually discerning what is needed now.

The moment a leader says, “This is how I’ve always done it,” learning stops. And when learning stops, decline quietly begins.

Change Anchored in Mission

Being open to change does not mean chasing trends or abandoning theological convictions. The message remains anchored in Scripture. The mission remains grounded in Christ.

What changes are the forms—the ways we communicate, structure, and embody that mission in a particular time and place.

That’s true for preaching.
It’s true for leadership.
And it’s especially true for churches seeking renewal.

The excitement of something new is not about novelty. It’s about alignment—aligning again with what God is doing now.

Still Learning, Still Changing

I don’t expect my current way of preaching—or leading—to be my final one.

If God gives me more years of ministry, I hope I’ll still be learning, still adjusting, still open to being reshaped. Not because the past was wrong—but because faithfulness is always forward-facing.

Leadership that refuses to change eventually loses its voice.

Leadership that remains open—rooted, reflective, and curious—creates space for renewal.

And that, I believe, is part of our calling.