Where is the Church? A call for Reform in the modern american church

I keep returning to a phrase that echoed through the hallways of the Protestant Reformation: “Ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda secundum verbum Dei.” Translated, it means, “The church reformed, always reforming according to the Word of God.” That little phrase gets tossed around a lot, especially in theological circles, but its power is in what it demands of us. The Reformers didn’t see the reformation as a one-time event, they understood faithfulness as something that keeps demanding us to be honest, to go back to the beginning, to test everything against the very words and life of Christ Himself.

Lately, I can’t shake the sense that this call isn’t just ancient history. It’s not just about men in robes, nailing theses to doors, or councils debating doctrine in distant cathedrals. It’s a call that ought to unsettle us right now, no matter what size building we gather in. Whether it’s a grand sanctuary, a humble fellowship hall, or a multipurpose room with folding chairs and a portable sound system. From the smallest Bible study to the mid-sized neighborhood church to the bustling congregation across town, there’s a weight of something missing, the sense that this whole system, these rythms and routines might have drifted far from what Jesus actually meant by “church.”

Church for so many of us, has become a kind of production, not only where the stage is big or the music is loud, but even where everything is predictable, well-rehearsed, and safely familiar. It’s supposed to be holy ground, a gathering of people desperately in need of God, but sometimes it feels more like a show or program. Wehther that means a tightly run livestream or just the comfort of doing things the same exact way week after week. Now don’t get me wrong I am not creativity or oder. But when what we do feels like it’s more about appearance, or maintaining our own traditions, rather than about transformation it’s worth asking what are we really budiling, and who is it all for?

Beyond the exterior, the music, the welcome, the 3 point neatly wrapped sermon, there’s a deeper issue to confront. We speak often of “community,” but it’s easy for any church, regardless of its size or style, to slip into routines, programs, and systems that end up serving the already convinced. No matter how many are gathered, every church can fall prey to the habit of recycling the same handful of volunteers, catering to insider preferences, and focusing on the people who already know the language and rythms. Sometimes “growth strategies” just mean hoping to attract the disenchanted from another church rather than truly reaching those who don’t yet know hope. In every corner, real outreach becomes something we talk about more than we actually do.

Then, there’s the pain, the hypcoricy, the scandals, the failures, the moments of betrayal. We like to believe that problems of abuse, control, or moral failure are isolated to the headlines or the big institutions, but breakdown can happen anywhere it does. Power can be abused behind a pulpit in a tiny fellowship as easily as it is in a large crowd. There are stories of pain, secrets, authority misused, and hearts wounded in rural chapels and midweek small groups as much as any bustling campus. When trust is broken, even on a small scale, it can shake a whole community’s sense of what church is actually meant to be.

This longing for something deeper isn’t just about nostalgia. Even in the New Testament, we find churches struggling. In city homes and village gatherings, the believers fought with division, apathy, favortism, and pride. But their greatest hope wasn’t in smooth programs or new ideas, it was always to return to Christ, to measure everything by the foudation of Christ, and to make space for repentance and renwals. That’s what I ache for, an imperfect church that is honest about its falws and obsessive about returning to Jesus, not a machine that keeps rolling no matter what.

What often gets lost not only in busy congregations or established churches but also in scrappy church plants and home fellowships is the actual, costly work of loving others, the slow and often unglamorous labor of being the hands and feet of Jesus. I think about how he touched the untouchable, came close to those who others ignored, and made faith real in the moments that nobody else could. He was never about image management, crowd pleasing, or protecting reputations. When did we start beliving that following Jesus could be systematized, outsourced to committees, or protected through perfect branding?

Again I want to be clear: structure is not evil, and tradition can be beautiful. Every generation must wrestle with how to embody timeless truth in a changing world. But any church, no matter the headcount, can lose its soul by focusing more on preserving comfort or toutine rather than chasing after the living Christ. Talking about “rethiking church” it does not mean trashing everything, but it does demand the courage to ask: “Do our habits serve Jesus or just ourselves? Are we willing to stop and listen, even if it means shaking things up or laying down control?

After 13 years in ministry I have heard over and over again from churches that they exist to reach the lost, but watch what happens when change comes to town. When a new church plant, a ministry launch, or new pastor comes to the area. So often, the energy turns toward attracting people from other churches, fine-tuning programs, and hoping for growth through transfer. Real evangelism, risking discomfort to reach outside the walls, seeing people as more than numbers usually takes a back seat to what’s easier and safer. The system bends naturally towards those already “in.” And when the hurting show up, sometimes they find only polite indifference instead of the radical welcome of Jesus.

This kind of soul searching isn’t about slogans or PR stunts. Reform; ongoing, honest, Spirit-led reform begins with looking in the mirror, letting Scripture ask us hard questions, and being willing to repent as needed. If Christ is the foundation, then nothing else.. no tradition, identity, even, or status can take His place. It’s not enought to tinker with the surface; true reform means asking whether what we’re building together looks like Jesus, acts like Jesus, and most importantly loves like Jesus.

I often return to the Gospels and imagine the shock of Jesus in our midst. He broke molds, cherished outsiders, challenged religious experts, and offered truth and grace with authority and humility. He didn’t coach his followers to brand themselves; he called them to lay down their lives, to pick up a cross, and serve. That is the foundation, and it’s more beautiful and harder than we often let ourselves admit.

The foundation, as ever, does not need to be relaid. In every era, in every setting, in sanctuaries big or small, Christ is still enough. What we need is not the next program, but a clearing out of distractions and honest work to build, together, on the solid rock of His life and Word. That’s what “semper refromanda” points us toward: not endless change for its own sake, but the humility and hope to keep coming back, to keep realigning, to keep letting the reality of Jesus shape what church is and what church does in this moment, in this place, among these people.

If you feel some of this ache, a hunger for a church that is honest, humble, courageous, and real you’re not alone. The longing itself may be the Spirit’s invitation to return, to hope again, and to believe that even ordinary people in the modest spaces can participate in something eternal. The church of Jesus Christ isn’t confined to building, styles, denominations, or programs. Rather, it is seen wherever people are despearate for grace, open to correction, courageous in love, and faithful to the Lord. It’s messy, it’s sometimes bruised and battered, but it keeps reaching for the foundation again and again.

So where is the Church of Jesus Christ? Maybe, just maybe, it’s wherever we are willing to admit our poverty and need, to confess where we’ve drifted or hurt each other, and to once again let the Gospel of Jesus Christ define the story and shape the future. IF there is hope, it is not in getting every detail right, but in returning… together… to the One who can heal, unite, and renew His people, no matter their size or status, now and always!