The Church Is Trying Too Hard—Here’s What It Really Needs

Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!

Psalm 27:14 (NRSV)

Political Paralysis and the Illusion of Action

A few weeks ago, I logged on for a virtual town hall with my Senator, a Democrat. After offering a general update on his recent work, he took questions from the audience.

Though the questions varied, they all boiled down to a central concern: “What can we do? What can be done?”

His responses, however, were as feckless as they were unhelpful—generic meanderings that sidestepped the urgency of the moment. When asked about stopping Trump from selling off public lands for oil and gas, his reply was a cautious, noncommittal, “I’m not against oil and gas development, but I want to see it done responsibly.” His answer entirely missed the caller’s frustration and left an audience desperate for leadership with nothing but vague assurances.

Two things struck me: first, that Democrats, as a whole, seem philosophically ill-equipped to respond to this moment in history, and second, that even if they wanted to do more, they currently lack real power, with Republicans controlling both the House and Senate.

A Parallel Crisis in Mainline Protestantism

This reminds me of a parallel reality within Mainline Protestantism.

My Future Christian co-host, Martha Tatarnic, captures this dynamic in her book Why Gather?, writing:

“Much of the mainline church in which we serve is so concerned with institutional decline that all it can see is its own faults and failings; all it can wish is to be and look like something other than what it is.”

Since the first Trump administration, Democrats and progressives have largely defined themselves by resistance. But resistance alone is not a vision. The American public is left wondering: What do Democrats actually stand for? What is their proactive agenda? Without clear direction, they become synonymous with the status quo, which voters consistently reject.

Similarly, Mainline Protestantism has spent decades reacting to its decline. As congregations shrink and younger generations migrate to evangelical megachurches, the primary identity many mainline churches have embraced is simply: “We’re not Evangelicals.” But this is not a compelling narrative.

The Obsession with Innovation

More recently, as evangelical churches themselves have begun to decline, Mainliners have pivoted to innovation. Yet, despite efforts to reimagine church, many congregations remain unsure of their core identity and mission, leaving them searching for direction beyond mere institutional survival. Yet, as Andrew Root argues in The Church After Innovation, “The church does not need more innovators; it needs more ministers” (222).

But what does this ministry entail? Many churches equate ministry with relentless activity. Root critiques this in The Congregation in a Secular Age, noting that churches often become so consumed by programming and initiatives that they fail to recognize God’s presence and action.

Rooted Church: A Different Path Forward

Having engaged deeply with Root’s Ministry in a Secular Age series, particularly Churches and the Crisis of Decline, I’ve come to believe that the essential acts of the church in our present moment are simple: worship, pray, and wait.

In the landscape of church trends, where every thriving congregation seems to have a catchy three-word tagline, I imagined this: Rooted Church – Worship. Pray. Wait.

The first two are straightforward. But waiting? That’s the hardest part.

We live in a culture that resists waiting. With so much wrong in the world, waiting feels foolish, if not outright irresponsible. Yet, as my pastor, Rev. Don Bird, recently preached, “Waiting isn’t passive; it’s an active choice to believe that God is still working, even when we can’t yet see the full picture.”

Culturally, we equate waiting with inaction. But Root argues otherwise. First, waiting forces us to depend on God rather than our own efforts. Second, waiting is about presence—being with others rather than trying to control outcomes. As Root writes:

“This active waiting allows the church to be in the world, not to have the world but to truly be with the world” (Churches and the Crisis of Decline, 144).

He takes this further, stating, “The Church is the church...when it waits” (144).

Why? Because, as Root explains in Faith Formation in a Secular Age, “The church has no life outside the receiving and giving of ministry. For without the dynamic of the receiving and giving of ministry, the church is absent Jesus Christ” (201).

Jesus, in his very nature, humbled himself to the point of death on a cross. Not despite being God, but because he is God. The cross is the revelation of God’s very being—the shape of divine action itself (163).

So what does it mean to live this out? Root explains:

“To help people in our churches experience faith is not to battle for space or commitment... It is... to encourage people to pray, opening their lives to the transcendent. It is to invite them to come in and, through prayer, to articulate their experience of negation so that they might be ministered to. And it is, in and through these acts of ministry in which their person is shared in, to continue to prayerfully seek the action of God” (150).

A Call to Worship, Pray, and Wait

We live in challenging times. Our democracy wavers, our institutions crumble, and the church struggles to offer a compelling alternative. The instinct is to do more—to write letters, call representatives, and protest. These actions are important. But politically, there is little Democrats can do at this moment beyond hoping Trump abides by judicial rulings (he likely won’t). And in the church, especially within Mainline Protestantism, our resources are so depleted that much of our energy is spent closing buildings and managing decline.

What if, instead of chasing solutions, we committed to those three simple words?

Worship. Pray. Wait.

We worship, not to ignore reality, but because God is life, God is love, and God brings light to darkness. As the song goes:

“It’s Your breath in our lungs, So we pour out our praise…” (Great Are You Lord, All Sons & Daughters)

We pray—out of desperation, exasperation, and need. We pray because we recognize that we cannot fix things on our own. We need God. We pray for God to move, for God to act, and for us to discern our role in that action.

And finally, we wait. But, as Don Bird reminds us, waiting isn’t passive. It’s a choice to trust that God is working, even when we cannot yet see the outcome. While we wait, we love and serve others—not out of self-reliance, but out of faithful expectation. As Root writes:

“It is, in and through these acts of ministry in which their person is shared in, to continue to prayerfully seek the action of God” (150).

We serve because Jesus served. We love because God first loved us.

And then, when we are exhausted and exasperated once again, we start the cycle anew:

We worship because God gives life and light.

We pray because we recognize our dependence on God.

And we wait—with expectation, hope, and anticipation—trusting that God will show up and move.

Or, as Dory so simply put it in Finding Nemo, we "just keep swimming."