Shared Space Is Not Failure. It Is Stewardship.
Many churches are sitting on their greatest ministry asset and barely using it. Buildings that are empty most of the week, classrooms that stay locked, and sanctuaries that only come alive for a few hours on Sunday have become normal. Meanwhile, the communities around those buildings are changing rapidly, filled with people the church claims to exist to reach. When that contrast goes unexamined, it reveals not a facilities issue but a stewardship issue.
For generations, churches measured faithfulness by ownership. A building represented stability, longevity, and credibility in the community. Over time, however, ownership quietly turned into control, and control slowly gave way to fear. Fear of losing influence, fear of conflict, and fear that sharing space would somehow erase identity. As a result, many churches now protect empty buildings instead of leveraging them for gospel work.
The better question is not how a church can preserve what it has but how it can faithfully use what God has already entrusted to it. A building is not a reward for past faithfulness. It is a tool for present mission. When churches treat space as sacred property rather than a missional resource, they unintentionally limit their reach and shrink their imagination.
There is no biblical reason for church buildings to sit idle while people remain unreached. Shared space allows congregations to extend their impact without duplicating effort or competing for the same shrinking pool of attenders. One church may struggle to reach young families, while another may connect naturally with immigrants, college students, or people rebuilding their lives. When space is shared, a single facility can become a hub for multiple expressions of gospel ministry, each reaching people others cannot.
Some push back against shared space because they fear it creates a collection of churches that all look and sound the same. But the opposite is often true. When multiple churches with distinct cultures, leadership styles, and ministry focuses share the same space, they often reach people the others cannot. One congregation may connect with young families, another with immigrants, another with college students, and another with those recovering from addiction or navigating poverty. That diversity is not a problem to solve but a picture to celebrate. We seem comfortable with the idea of a church on every corner, yet we resist the idea of several churches sharing one building. When done well, shared space becomes a visible expression of the body of Christ, many members with different gifts working together for the same mission.
Churches often resist this idea for emotional reasons rather than theological ones. Leaders worry about losing control or being taken advantage of. Members fear that sharing space will dilute the church’s identity or invite conflict. Yet identity rooted in Christ is not threatened by generosity. In many cases, influence actually grows when trust replaces possession and collaboration replaces isolation.
Shared space also forces clarity and humility. It requires churches to communicate expectations, articulate values, and confront unhealthy patterns that might otherwise remain hidden. Partnerships have a way of revealing both strengths and weaknesses, but that exposure often leads to growth rather than harm. For churches in revitalization, this kind of honest engagement can breathe life into congregations that have been coasting on routine.
This conversation is not about survival. It is about obedience. If a church believes its building exists to serve the mission, then unused space should feel uncomfortable. Empty rooms represent missed opportunities for ministry, not signs of success. When churches open their doors to partners, they are choosing faithfulness over fear and future impact over past preservation.
Shared space is not failure. It is stewardship. It is a recognition that the church is bigger than any one congregation and that the gospel is too important to hoard square footage. The question is simple. Will we continue to protect empty rooms, or will we open them and trust God to use them for something greater than we imagined?