From Stripped Soil to Sacred Ground: Rethinking Discipleship Beyond the Industrial Church

A few weeks ago, I heard a farmer say something that’s been echoing in my soul ever since: “Healthy soil leads to healthy bodies.”

It’s a simple statement with layers of wisdom. He was talking about regenerative farming—an agricultural practice that focuses less on extraction and more on cultivation. It’s a way of tending to the land that gives back what it takes, that restores what it uses. In regenerative farming, the goal isn’t just to produce more. It’s to create soil that is rich, alive, and sustainable, season after season.

The more I sat with that phrase—healthy soil leads to healthy bodies—the more I realized it holds profound truth for the church, as well.

The Industrial Church

For decades now, much of church life in North America has mirrored the logic of industrial farming. I’m no longer talking about the “institutional church” as I believe that many only think that term applies to mainline churches. I believe that the best way, and perhaps more inclusive way to talk about the mindset and methods of the modern church is referring to the industrial church (as in those shaped by the church industrial complex). In the same way that industrial agriculture seeks to maximize yield and efficiency—often at the cost of the soil—many churches have been shaped by models that prioritize production, scale, and visible results over sustainable, transformative growth.

We count attendance, not transformation. We run programs like assembly lines. We exhaust leaders with constant demands. We measure discipleship by participation.

It’s an extractive model. And just like depleted farmland, the consequences are becoming impossible to ignore.

People are burning out. Leaders are leaving. Spiritual fatigue is rising. And beneath the surface, the soil of many churches is dry, overworked, and undernourished.

When the goal is to squeeze out as much ministry output as possible—more services, more sign-ups, more metrics—we can easily lose sight of the health of the very people we’re called to shepherd. We begin to form disciples the same way we form products: quickly, efficiently, and uniformly. And in doing so, we forget that people are not machines. They are soil.

The Church as a Living Ecosystem

What if, instead of viewing discipleship as a factory line, we started viewing it as a field?

What if we saw the church not as a production center, but as a living ecosystem—one where every person plays a role in tending the soil?

Discipleship is not a product to manufacture but a life to cultivate.

In regenerative farming, the health of the soil determines the health of the harvest. The farmer’s job isn’t just to plant seeds and hope. It’s to create the conditions where growth can happen naturally—rich soil, balanced nutrients, proper rest between plantings, and the integration of life-giving rhythms into the land itself.

The same is true of spiritual formation. We can’t force transformation. We can only cultivate the conditions in which it becomes possible.

And just like in regenerative agriculture, we must move from extraction to investment. From burning out the land to blessing it.

Regenerative Discipleship?

Regenerative discipleship is a posture, not a program. It begins by asking: What kind of soil are we cultivating in our churches?

• Is it relationally rich, or just programmatically full?

• Is it marked by margin and rest, or by constant hustle and activity?

• Are we developing people holistically—heart, soul, mind, and strength—or are we primarily looking for utility and output?

Regenerative discipleship prioritizes depth over speed, formation over participation, and fruitfulness over productivity.

It sees people not as resources to use but as gardens to nurture.

It creates space for deep roots to form—through spiritual practices, through relationships, through worship, through reflection.

It honors Sabbath. It honors slowness. It honors the patient, faithful work of spiritual growth that doesn’t always show up in a spreadsheet.

And most importantly, it invites every person not just to consume ministry, but to participate in cultivating the soil of the community.

In healthy churches, no one is only a consumer—everyone is a cultivator.

Because in a healthy church, no one is just showing up to be fed. Everyone is pouring something back in—prayer, encouragement, presence, service, grace. Everyone contributes to the richness of the soil.

Healthy Soil Leads to Healthy Lives

That farmer was right. Healthy soil really does lead to healthy bodies. And in the church, healthy soil leads to healthy lives and healthy disciples.

If our soil is dry and depleted, it doesn’t matter how many seeds we scatter.

I’ve seen it with my own eyes. When a church slows down enough to create space for people to breathe and be formed, something changes. The Spirit begins to move in quiet, organic ways. People become more rooted. More aware. More available.

They’re no longer running on empty or wondering if they belong. They begin to hear from God again. They begin to serve not out of obligation, but out of joy. They begin to take responsibility not just for their own growth, but for the health of the whole body.

And the community that once felt tired and dry starts to feel alive again. (Ezekiel 37, anyone?)

That’s the vision. Not a flashy, high-output machine, but a vibrant, Spirit-fed ecosystem of discipleship—where people grow, leaders last, and the soil gets richer with every season.

Tending the Church’s Soil

So what does it look like to cultivate that kind of soil?

Here are just a few practices that churches and leaders can begin to lean into:

• Ask better questions. Instead of “Are people attending?” ask “Are people growing?”

• Prioritize presence over performance. Make space for real relationships, not just programs.

• Rediscover Sabbath rhythms. Build in margin and rest—for leaders, staff, and members alike.

• Invest in deep formation. Focus on helping people become more like Jesus, not just busier or more biblically intellectual.

• Empower everyone to contribute. Teach that every member adds nutrients to the soil. No one is here just to take.

And perhaps most importantly, we must slow down.

You can’t rush soil. You can’t force fruit. But if you tend the ground, the harvest will come.

A Church Worth Growing

In a world driven by speed and results, the church is called to be something different, altogether.

Not a factory.

Not a machine.

But a field.

A garden.

A place where the Spirit grows people from the inside out.

A place where the soil is sacred and the people are too.

If we want to see lives transformed, we must begin by tending the ground beneath our feet.

Because healthy soil leads to healthy lives.