Why Grief Might Be the Most Important Step for Your Church Right Now
When a church is in decline, the first instinct is often to fix it. We start talking strategy: how to get more people in the pews, how to cut costs, how to restructure, rebrand, or relaunch. All of this is good and necessary, but if you haven’t first dealt with the inevitable reality of grief, then none of this will make a lasting difference.
Here's the hard truth: you can’t strategize your way out of grief.
If a congregation doesn’t make space to grieve, that unprocessed sorrow can quietly sabotage every “forward-focused” plan.
I’ve walked with churches in decline, and I’ve seen the same pattern: people want to skip over the pain. They’d rather avoid the conversation about what’s been lost—ministries that no longer exist, people who’ve drifted away, a sense of influence that’s faded. But until we name that loss and feel it, you can’t be ready for what’s next.
Grief isn’t bad. It’s natural, and addressing it can produce a lot of great benefits.
Here are a few.
The Benefits of Grief
Grief is healthy. It’s a God-given way to process loss so we can heal. Without it, pain just buries itself deeper, showing up later as bitterness, resistance, or burnout.
Grief is necessary. There’s no shortcut. You can’t avoid grief without avoiding growth.
Grief is essential. It allows us to see what truly matters—our core values, the things worth holding onto—and what we can release.
Grief is healing. It gives permission to name wounds and begin mending.
Grief is unifying. Shared grief creates a deeper connection. It says, “We’re in this together,” even when there’s disagreement about what comes next.
Grief is transformative. It reshapes us. It has the power to turn nostalgia into vision and loss into compassion.
Grief has many benefits but it's not good for reimagining what’s possible. In other words, grief has serious limitations.
Here are a few.
The Limitations of Grief
Grief is not strategic. It doesn’t produce immediate solutions or metrics.
Grief is not forward-focused. Its work is to help us stand still long enough to honor what has been lost.
Grief is not productive—at least, not in the way we usually define productivity. It’s not about quick wins or efficient processes.
Grief is not solution-oriented. It doesn’t tell you the next step. It prepares your heart so that when the next step comes, you can take it.
Grief is not final. It’s a season, a process—not the end of the story.
Don’t make decisions in grief that don’t take into account the possibility that things might get better. New life is possible. In other words, don’t let grief have the final say.
Our own church has been through this. We were in decline. Our income didn’t match our expenses. We were burning through our savings. It’s a story that many churches know all too well. We knew we needed to make adjustments, but we also knew we could accidentally cut the very things that might help us move into the future. It was a hard season, and we felt a lot of hard feelings, but we had to be careful not to let those hard feelings take the driver’s seat. We had to take time to grieve while also choosing to believe that good things were possible. We had to believe God wasn’t done with us. That belief enabled us to hold onto a vision that inspired giving—instead of letting scarcity take over and discourage it.
I recently worked with a church that had raised money to invest in its future. They were investing in children’s ministry, new branding, and guest services. However, once they began spending the money, a few people became upset—even though the funds had been raised specifically for that purpose. Their situation wasn’t so different from ours: they didn’t have a lot of extra money lying around. Grief and scarcity began to take center stage for some of the leaders. Thankfully, their pastor held onto the vision and rallied the troops. She knew they had to invest in the future if they wanted to see their situation change.
Grief will always try to keep us focused on the past—and if we’re not careful, it will trick us into investing all of our energy and money in staying there.
You can’t skip over grief. It must be named, addressed, and given space to heal; otherwise, it will influence us in subtle and dangerous ways.
Unprocessed grief will keep churches stuck in the past, unable to imagine a future where things are better.
I know grief sounds like the opposite of what a struggling church needs, but I’ve seen again and again that a congregation willing to grieve is a congregation that can heal—and healing makes space for real hope.
If your church is declining, the next best move might not be a significant new initiative, but an intentional season of lament.
I’ve created a workshop on Organizational Stages of Grief to guide churches through this very process. It’s practical, compassionate, and rooted in both pastoral care and organizational health.
Because the story of your church isn’t over yet.
Don’t let the pain of what you’ve lost dictate the possibilities of what might happen next.