A church is in need of revitalization when it believes its best days are behind it.

“We remember the fish which we used to eat free in Egypt, the cucumbers and the melons and the leeks and the onions and the garlic.” Numbers 11:5

Few statements in Scripture are as jarring as Israel’s complaint in the wilderness. After more than 400 years of slavery, God had delivered His people with power, signs, and wonders. And yet, standing on the edge of freedom, they looked back and described slavery as free.

That is a sobering distortion of memory.

A church in need of revitalization is often a church that believes it is free—when, in reality, it has become enslaved.


When Slavery Starts to Feel Like Freedom

Churches can be enslaved in many ways. Some are trapped in the past. Others are bound by tradition, budgets, fear, or unhealthy leadership dynamics. Still others are constrained by internal control, unresolved conflict, or church politics.

What makes this so dangerous is that slavery rarely announces itself as bondage. It often disguises itself as stability, predictability, or faithfulness. Like Israel in the wilderness, churches begin to remember the “free meals” of the past while forgetting the chains that came with them.

As pastors and leaders, part of our calling is to discern where God is moving—and to recognize when our ministries have become enslaved to programs, routines, and predictable environments rather than animated by the Spirit of God.

That raises an important question: How can you tell when your church is in need of revitalization?


Indicators That a Church Has Settled Into Bondage

Here are some common warning signs:

  • Does your church value business meetings more than evangelistic or missional engagement?
  • Do visitors leave as quickly as they arrive?
  • Is there more anxiety about temporarily moving the Lord’s Supper table for a children’s event than prayerful concern for those children to come to Christ?
  • Does pastoral leadership grow anxious when preaching or teaching moves toward change?
  • Is there genuine expectancy and joy in worship—or just familiarity?
  • Is affection for the past stronger than hope for the future?
  • Is there deep concern when a donor nameplate is missing from a pew?
  • Is the church budget dominated by tightly designated line items that leave little room for mission?

When these patterns emerge, the church may feel stable—but stability is not the same as faithfulness.


“The Good Old Days” and What We Really Mean

“The good old days” is often code language for don’t mess with my stuff.

Those days may indeed have been good in some ways—but they were not without conflict, financial stress, politics, fear, or drama. What made them feel safe was not perfection, but predictability.

Israel’s slavery offered predictable meals. Never mind the beatings. Never mind the oppression. Never mind the generational misery. At least life felt known.

Churches do the same thing. They cling to familiar patterns—not because those patterns are fruitful, but because they are familiar.

Ironically, when someone says, “The good old days,” it often opens the door to revitalization.


Using the Past to Invite the Future

When I hear that phrase, I almost always respond with curiosity rather than correction. I ask people to tell me their stories—what made those days so meaningful.

And the stories are often beautiful.

I have heard accounts of intense seasons of prayer, month-long revival meetings, miraculous healings, last-minute financial provisions, powerful preaching, and joyful worship. For many churches, those truly were good days.

After listening, I ask two simple questions:

  • Wouldn’t you like to see that happen again?
  • Wouldn’t it be wonderful if this generation—your children and grandchildren—experienced the same move of God?

Almost without exception, the answer is yes.

And that is where revitalization begins.

As people reflect more deeply, they often recall that those “good days” were not static. They involved change, sacrifice, risk, and obedience. The church adapted. Leaders stepped out in faith. People met God where He was working.


Why Rob the Next Generation?

Why would we deny the next generation the opportunity to experience God’s power, provision, and presence?

This is the moment when pastoral leadership matters most—when the pastor says, “Follow me. We are going to pursue all that God has for us, for the sake of the next generation.”

Yes, it will look different. After all, the desert does not look like the Jordan. But God is no less present in the journey than in the destination.


Guarding Against Mission Drift

Ministry always carries the risk of mission drift. Churches settle into routines, routines become habits, and habits slowly replace obedience.

Pastors and leaders are not immune. Stability can feel like relief after years of hard work. But if we are not careful, resting turns into settling, and settling turns into dependence on systems rather than the Spirit.

Nothing reveals this more clearly than when slavery is remembered as freedom.


The Only “Good Old Days” That Matter

The only true “good old days” are the ones we are living right now—with faith, obedience, and anticipation for what God will do next.

When we step away from obedience and faith, we stop living toward God’s future and begin clinging to God’s past. Revitalization calls us forward—not to abandon our story, but to continue it.

Yesterday was not meant to be your church’s best day.

By God’s grace, the best days are still ahead.

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