When we hear the word Reformation, our minds often go to the 16th century—Luther, Calvin, Zwingli, and the dramatic upheaval of the Church. That moment in history was a turning point:
- A clarifying return to Scripture
- A rediscovery of grace
- A reconfiguring of the Church into distinct Protestant expressions
The Reformation wasn’t just reform for reform’s sake—it was a Spirit-led recalibration around the authority of the Word and the centrality of the gospel.
Rethinking “Reformation”
Since then, many have called for “reformation” in the Church. Sometimes those calls are necessary—when truth drifts, when power corrupts, when mission is lost.
But at other times, the impulse to reform swings toward overreach or overreaction. You’ve probably seen many of these calls online. And it’s easy for people to equate reformation with total overhaul, forgetting that sometimes what’s needed isn’t demolition—but reshaping.
What if we thought of reformation less as a revolution, and more as a re-formation?
To re-form is to take a new shape—often using the same materials, but molded differently for a new season, a new context, or a new assignment.
It’s not about throwing out the old.
It’s about letting the Master Potter mold the clay once again for His purposes.
A Glimpse of the Church in Austin
Recently, I completed a review of every publicly listed church we could find in Austin. What I saw was a portrait of beauty—not because of perfection, but because of diverse faithfulness. If you’re curious, you can see my quick and dirty dashboard here.
Yes, there are theological differences, stylistic preferences, and various missional emphases. But collectively, these churches paint a compelling picture of the body of Christ in motion, and God’s activity in my city through the past several decades.
And I deeply love the Church in all her forms. She belongs to Jesus. She’s beautifully broken and being remade. Re-formed.
A friend recently shared a striking metaphor that captures this diversity. He compared large churches to dinosaurs—towering and able to feed on the high canopy of the forest. Smaller churches, he said, are more like lizards—low to the ground, feeding on the flora at the forest floor.
They have the same DNA, but radically different perspectives. The health of the forest depends on both.
- Without those who reach the heights, parts of the forest overgrow.
- Without those close to the ground, the roots suffer neglect.
The ecosystem thrives when all creatures find their place.
And yet, many of the “dinosaurs” are so focused upward that they miss what’s happening around their feet. My friend longed for large churches to bend their necks—to look down and see the beauty of the lizards working at ground level. There’s so much happening in the soil: discipleship, hospitality, mercy ministries, grassroots mission. The Spirit is moving—if we’re willing to see it.
Five Years of Quiet Re-Formation
Over the past five years, we’ve seen disruption—COVID, leadership transitions, cultural shifts. Congregations have reshuffled. Leaders have relearned their people. Many are still discerning their place.
And yet…
What if this isn’t merely “sheep swapping,” but something more providential? What if the Spirit of God is reassigning His saints to different posts—not as a reaction to crisis, but as a preparation for mission?
God has a long history of moving His people around:
- The dispersion in Acts
- Paul redirected from Asia to Macedonia (Acts 16)
- Priscilla and Aquila moving city to city to strengthen churches
Divine redistribution is often how the mission advances.
In my own research across the city, I’ve seen glimpses of this re-formation firsthand—unexpected, creative, and Spirit-led expressions of the Church:
- A house church network, knit together not by buildings but by a single pastor teaching via YouTube, yet deeply rooted in community and the Word. I love that he has “shrunk” the multi-site model.
- An independent confessional Lutheran congregation, quietly witnessing to their theological tradition in the city…I didn’t even know that kind of church existed.
- A second-generation Korean church within a larger church, faithfully shepherding young Korean-Americans with contextualized worship and discipleship. I once preached in a similar Chinese church in Toronto—and it deeply encouraged me to see this expression here in Austin.
- An ethnically Haitian church, meeting just a mile from my home—a church I never knew existed, yet faithfully proclaiming the gospel in Creole, bearing witness in my own neighborhood.
There are plenty of less encouraging “innovations” in Austin as well. But the above expressions aren’t just novelties. They are signs to me of God’s creative power to re-form His Church for the sake of His mission through His people. He is doing something new—not by erasing the past, but by reshaping the present.
A Word to Fellow Leaders
This season of re-formation might just be a gift. A Spirit-led redeployment. A moment to reimagine our stewardship. To my fellow ministry leaders: let’s lift our eyes and be courageously charitable.
Instead of only mourning what was lost or protecting what we have, what if we began to see what God is doing? Instead of longing for the “pre-COVID” church, what if we embraced the reshaped Church God is forming now? And what if we saw the beauty in faithful gospel ministry being expressed in various innovative forms?
This season isn’t a setback. It’s a stewardship. It’s a kairos moment.
Let’s partner with the Spirit in this season of re-formation—believing that what He’s shaping now may be even more beautiful than what came before!
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