Not everyone enjoys reading business meeting minutes. But in a historic congregation like ours, those dusty, leather-bound volumes seem to have a certain gravitational pull—especially when we start asking questions like, “Where has God blessed us in the past?” and “Where have leaders stumbled?” These reflections are not for nostalgia’s sake alone, but to stir us toward a kind of spiritual return—an effort to invest the vast resources God has entrusted to us through generations of faithful brothers and sisters.  Among those resources is our 20,000+ square foot building right in the heart of downtown Goshen.

We began to invest this space through a partnership with Downtown Ministries (DTM), whose mission is to walk with people out of poverty through biblical teaching, practical training, and discipleship deeply rooted in the local church. Currently, DTM holds classes Monday through Thursday on Job Skills, Faith and Finances, Addiction Recovery, and Foundations of the Faith. Each participant journeys through a 10-week course alongside a Christian mentor who not only shares weekly home-cooked meals but also offers encouragement and accountability. The church parsonage now serves as transitional housing for women, in collaboration with local ministries that refer those emerging from abuse, addiction, or crisis pregnancies—providing a safe place for healing and renewed hope.

But there was another resource that we’d largely overlooked until the Lord, in His way, “called in the loan”: our pews.

Church records show that GFBC once filled the sanctuary with several hundred worshippers—even without air conditioning! In recent years, although God has been faithfully building His church, we’ve noticed many empty seats. We’ve welcomed children into the service—which brings life and joy—but we quietly assumed the remaining pews would be filled eventually by “visitors.”

Well, visitors came.

For many years, we’ve supported the local Jail Ministry, primarily by funding Bibles and attending the annual banquet. But recently, that ministry began asking their own questions about deeper Kingdom impact and expanded into the Work Release Program. This program allows over 200 men and women to transition from full incarceration into employment—and to attend church on Sundays. The jail chaplain started a Sunday school class near the work release facility, inviting local pastors to share about their congregations. I shared that we’re a Bible-centered community of Jesus-followers, that our worship is traditional, and yes—I still wear a tie in the pulpit (a detail they appreciated knowing ahead of time 😊). Most importantly, we’re within walking distance of the facility. And you know what they say: “Location, location, location.”

In the weeks that followed, a few folks began trickling in, asking to have their attendance forms signed after service. One of our deacons made it his quiet ministry to memorize each name as he signed their time logs. The gratitude from these individuals—who are finally being known by name rather than case number—is deeply moving.

One brother in Christ, currently in work release, meets his wife and baby at worship each week. When a few members learned that the young mother and child had recently moved into an unfurnished apartment, they quickly organized a team—many drawing from our own thrift store—to fill the home with all they needed. While I was in a meeting with church leaders discussing the practical and pastoral complexities of welcoming this population, my phone buzzed with messages coordinating care for this young family. Soon, this man will follow Christ in baptism, and the whole family now calls our congregation “their people.”

Here’s the truth: adding 40+ people of any kind to a small church means we’ve had to figure some things out. Our deacons and trustees have worked faithfully to ensure everyone can attend and engage fruitfully. But the bigger questions began pressing in: Who is the church for? What does discipleship look like now? How do we show biblical hospitality in real time?

Suddenly, James chapter 2 isn’t just theoretical—it’s happening live on Sunday mornings. And it’s not always neat. We’ve welcomed strangers and learned their names. We’ve confronted sin, confessed our own, celebrated sobriety, and shared the table with people wearing GPS ankle monitors. We’re filling pews with those whose stories stretch our imaginations—and deepen our dependence on God.

No church is required to sign time logs. Not every congregation has the resources or the location to serve in this way. But for Goshen First Brethren Church, this has been a profound opportunity. If you ask some of these newcomers what “profit” has come from this investment in empty pews, you’ll hear things like:

“People here know my name.”
“This is pushing me out of my comfort zone—in a good way.”
“This place is stable and doesn’t lead me into sin.”
“The music reminds me of home.”
“And the Bible teaching is solid—verse by verse.”

We didn’t become a work release ministry. We didn’t change our style to attract people. Our mission remains: to build a healthy church and to build our lives around it. But as we begin to view our “talents” as everything God has entrusted to us, and we step into risky obedience with open hands and hearts, the vision of what our church can be becomes sharper.

We are well aware that all of this could shift quickly. But for now, we aim to be faithful with the ministry God has placed right in front of us—so that one day, we too might hear:

“Well done, good and faithful servant.”

In and for Christ,
Austin Kaufman
Goshen First Brethren Church