It was a perfectly good building in its day, six bays of finishing barn plus liquid manure handling capability. Sturdy, practical, and not too far off from today’s standards, the structure was bound to outlast the enterprise it supported. The dilemma that remains for subsequent owners is what to do with a white elephant. Since it is no longer part of a farming operation, every dollar spent on it is simply wasted money when it comes to deductibility. Nothing carries over. The most common awareness of cash flow for many people is a paycheck deposited in the bank every payday coupled with an interminable wait for the next.

Suggestions from friends and neighbors are genuinely appreciated when offered, but the likelihood of spending money on a building in return for nothing is slim at best, regardless of how acquaintances feel about it. What would be gained? Future value perhaps, but only when the property is sold, leased, or otherwise placed in motion. It underscores more fully the observation that many small acreages are rough and tumble. There is no tax write-off for tools, equipment, landfill fees, fuel, or construction of buildings that could help bring order to chaos. It is not an easy place to find oneself.

What will happen when churches begin to sense their own obsolescence regarding buildings and programming? Will it prompt them to action beyond themselves, or will it compel them to throw in the theological towel and bail out altogether? Will they be left bitter and disillusioned or inspired and resolute in their faith? Who can say?

The church has been through similar cycles in the past. Will modern technology, including AI, finally undo us, or will it provide fresh opportunities for the church to lead in astonishing new directions? What if today’s obsolescence is the beginning and not the end, a time when questions are more important than answers?

A small rural crossroads church in eastern Nebraska was recently challenged to become better stewards of their mostly empty building. Mustering up its courage, the small church body contacted a refugee resettlement program and inquired whether the church’s resources might be put to more efficient use in service of the refugees. The result thus far has been energizing and affirming. A plan is forthcoming that includes the possibility of extensive remodeling and program development specific to that site. It would have never gotten this far if someone was not bold enough to ask questions and raise possibilities. A most telling statement from one of the project evaluators included the hope that whatever is accomplished would last far beyond the lives of those initiating the program. Vision and foresight all in one church? Who would have thought it!

Imagine the power of one small church times ten or twenty or two hundred thousand. The foundations are before us, literally and figuratively. It might require us to work more collegially with others than we have in the past, but it could also engender an entire new orientation toward the truer church, a church Christ would have recognized. We are only obsolete if we imagine ourselves to be. Will we have the courage to step beyond our comfort zones in order to discover another way of living? It sounds like a real possibility.