001 Understanding the Times

“From Issachar—they who understood the times, 
to know what Israel ought to do…”
— 1 Chronicles 12:32

The church has always required leaders who understand the times.

Not leaders who chase trends.

Not leaders who abandon tradition.

But leaders who can discern the terrain in which the gospel must take flesh.

I love the church. I believe deeply that God desires to make the world whole — that God is a God of deliverance in the present and salvation that stretches into eternity. And one of the fullest measures of God’s reign of peace — God’s shalom — is experienced in healthy, vibrant, life-giving Christian community.

That conviction is why this conversation matters.

For much of the late twentieth century, the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) functioned as a strong institution. Education was prized. Intellectual rigor was central. Pastors were trained to preach carefully constructed sermons, guide orderly programs, and steward stable congregations supported by predictable giving.

If we offered something worthwhile, we assumed people would come.

For a time, they did.

But we are not ministering in that world anymore.

Across our presbyteries we see congregations declining numerically and financially. We see historic buildings becoming financial burdens rather than missional assets. We see children and grandchildren drifting from congregational life into a broader culture that does not assume faith.

At the same time, we see signs of life that do not always fit our inherited metrics.

I think of a small congregation of about fifteen people. Historically much larger with few of the “historic” congregation still alive. Now diminished in numbers and giving. At their best, worship does not happen in the sanctuary but around tables in a smaller room. The sermon becomes a shared conversation. Prayer is mutual. Support is tangible. They do not have much money. But they have Christian community.

That is not failure.

I think of another congregation—modest attendance, modest finances—that has built deep relationships with a Hispanic community in its neighborhood. No dramatic growth curve. No sudden spike in membership statistics. But a much broader impact. They are already cultivating relationships with neighbors in numbers more than six times their worship attendance. In the process, their own bonds are deepening, and their sense of call to love the city God has given them is taking root. The circle of trust is widening.

Our traditional indicators do not always recognize this as success.

If we are honest, many of us were formed in a time when institutional strength shaped our imagination of what church “should” look like. And there is much to be grateful for in that era. Faithful pastors, thoughtful theology, strong educational commitments, durable congregations.

But gratitude for the past cannot become captivity to it.

Isaiah writes, “See—I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth—do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.” (Isaiah 43:19).

The question is not whether God worked in previous decades. The question is whether we perceive what God is doing now.

In our formation of leaders — whether through seminaries, sessions, presbyteries, or congregational mentoring — we must widen the frame.

We still need theological depth. We still need careful exegesis. But we also need pastors who can translate theology into lived discipleship. Pastors who can equip others to lead, not simply perform leadership themselves. Pastors who can build community without relying entirely on institutional momentum.

We need leaders who understand that bi-vocational ministry may not signal failure but faithful adaptation. Leaders who can steward buildings wisely, even when hard decisions are required. Leaders who can guide congregations through grief without surrendering hope.

We need pastors who can preach not merely to inform, but to form — sermons that invite action, cultivate imagination, and call people into the life of Christ in concrete ways.

We need leaders who are confident yet humble. Willing to take risks without recklessness. Able to create healthy conflict and move systems forward with wisdom in timing and pacing. Grounded in a living faith community, not only in academic excellence.

This is not a rejection of our theological heritage. It is a continuation of it.

For some time, the Reformed tradition has insisted that the church must be reformed and always reforming according to the Word of God. That commitment requires courage. It also requires perception.

In 1 Chronicles 12, Israel is in a hinge moment. Saul’s reign is ending, David is being recognized, and the tribes gather at Hebron to decide what faithfulness looks like next. It is not a story of gloating over decline; it is a story about discernment and unity when a former arrangement can no longer carry the moment.

That is why the sons of Issachar matter. In a list that names the strength of each tribe, Issachar is praised for “understanding the times” and knowing what Israel ought to do (12:32). Their gift is clarity without panic—wisdom that helps their people move together.

This is not a one-to-one analogy, and no leader today is Saul. But many inherited church structures are reaching the edge of what they can carry. In that kind of transition, the church needs leaders who can name reality without cynicism, honor the past without captivity, and guide communities toward wise, shared action rather than anxious reaction.

Our calling in this season is similar.

The gospel has not changed.

Christ is faithful.

The Spirit is at work.

But the ecology in which the church lives has shifted.

If we love the church — if we believe that Christian community remains one of the clearest signs of God’s coming reign of peace — then we must form leaders who can cultivate that community in the world as it now exists.

We do not need sweeping reform overnight. We need small experiments that retrain our perception and build adaptive courage.

Here are three experiments any congregation, session, pastor, or presbytery can try: