![](/sites/default/files/resize/images/Halac-300x449.png "Karen Halac: "Generosity multiplies."")
In 2020, the Rev. Karen Halac ’04 M.Div., ’07 S.T.M. left her parish church position in Ridgefield, Conn., to lead a tiny, struggling congregation down the road in back-country Greenwich. Ever since, she has been working in unconventional ways to revive North Greenwich Congregational Church, despite trends of high mortality rates for congregations with attendance under 50, like hers. She is a small-church champion who believes most of them can thrive, if they embrace an entrepreneurial spirit, a gospel-centered message, and a committed use of the assets and talents they already possess. Her motto: “At the end of the day, I believe that we as a church (and I, personally) will need to answer two questions: 1) What have you done with what you have been given? And 2) Where is the evidence of your love of God and neighbor?”
Rev. Halac’s ministry experience extends beyond New England. Her first call following her M.Div. work was the position of youth minister at the American Church in Paris, an Anglophone congregation that draws worshipers from some 50 nations and dozens of denominations. She remains on the board of the American and Foreign Christian Union. She is now at work on a Doctor of Ministry degree in multicultural theological ethics from Hartford International University. She serves on the steering committee for the upcoming YDS “Renew, Restore, Explore” alum gathering on the Quad on May 1, which gives practitioners in ministry a chance to share joys and anxieties about their vocational lives and to worship at Marquand Chapel. The following is an edited transcript of a recent conversation with Reflections editor Ray Waddle.
Q: You became the minister of a congregation that was down to a mere handful of members. Why did you take the job?
Karen Halac: I knew people there, and I knew they’re coming up on their bicentennial in 2027. It breaks my heart to see so many small churches forced to shut down and sell their buildings, and their story comes to an end. So at this point in my life, I thought, Why not find out if there’s life in this place? I told them, OK, we might have to close in a year, we don’t know, but I thought they’d feel defeated if they simply gave up. So why not give it all we’ve got for a year, then reassess? That was 2020. Then Covid kicked in. I suddenly became the tech pastor, and we became a Zoom church. But the members were game. They were still determined to do outreach. I often refer to Covid as the “accidental interim minister” that removed all obstacles to innovation. There was no room left for “but we have always done it this way.” Innovation and risk-taking were essential for survival.
Q: Is there a secret to small-church renewal?
KH: We’re gospel-focused in worship and service, and we say yes to everything we can reasonably embrace, period. During Covid, the world was on fire and the local food bank had nowhere to go—we had space, and we said yes, so Neighbor to Neighbor moved in here, and this was their home for several months. We continue to serve as a food donation center for them, and the produce from our church garden is added to the donations from our 24-hour donation bin, delivered by members weekly. We’ve provided space for events for Kids in Crisis, which works with adolescents and families in difficulty, hosting their annual holiday fair. We partnered with Jewish Family Services as a distribution center for furnishings to set up new homes for refugees, particularly a large number of evacuees from Afghanistan. We now host twice-weekly fellowship sewing circles for Afghan women that have transformed into an alterations and sales microenterprise, enabling women to earn their first-ever incomes as they navigate new lives in this country.
Our outdoor concerts, which were created as a way to keep musicians working during the pandemic and to offer our neighbors beauty and solace during lockdown, have expanded to include Metropolitan Opera soloists and international Tchaikovsky competition gold medalists.
We have witnessed again and again how generosity multiplies. Many donations to our church come from friends and neighbors who are not members here, but who see all that is happening and want to offer support.
Q: Should larger and larger membership be the measure of success? What does success look like for a smaller congregation?
KH: We’re still tiny, growing from a handful to now perhaps 25 on Sunday mornings, but our metric for success is seven days a week of meaningful ministry: learning, worship, and service. Since arriving, I constantly think of the story of God talking to Moses, asking the question, What is in your hand? Is it a staff, a walking stick, a serpent? It was a transforming symbol of God’s power, not human authority. I think of God saying to us: You don’t have members and you don’t have money … What’s in your hand? We have an amazing location, a beautiful sanctuary, lovely grounds, meeting space, and a willingness to listen and obey. As we’re approaching the church bicentennial—how can we use all this for the glory of God? Figure that out, and the rest will follow. That’s been our model from the start.
Q: Still, the rate of small-church closures is reportedly accelerating. Is that inevitable in a modern pattern of religious life that rewards the bigger congregations for their longer menu of activities and choices?
KH: I don’t think small churches are meant to die. If we look at the early church, there weren’t enormous structures, there wasn’t a lot of money. What made it work? It was people coming together realizing Jesus taught, lived, and showed them a way that was life changing. The early church was basically people meeting in small gatherings to have those conversations and then find ways to live it out. What if we, and other small churches, do it that way? We’re not going to become big, and that’s OK. What if we do it small—focus on meaningful conversations, on welcoming everyone, and not concentrate on numbers or rigid orthodoxy? Here, the gospel is preached every Sunday without apology and without fail—that will never change. We use the weekly lectionary because I find it’s a good discipline; otherwise pastors might preach the same thing over and over again, using the scriptures they like and skipping what they find too challenging.
Q: How was your experience at the high-profile American Church in Paris relevant to a small house of worship in Greenwich, Conn.?
KH: Serving a multicultural church with 50 different nationalities and 75 different denominations, you need to find a way to distill the gospel to the essentials and not permit theological arguments to infect anything. I try to apply that lesson here: This place doesn’t offer oxygen to people who want to argue or fight—there are plenty of other places where you can go to do that. Polarization is killing congregations—ministers tell me it’s worse than they’ve ever seen it. But I don’t think most people go to church to contend with yet more conflict—they have hard lives already and a million responsibilities. They want renewal at church. We try to present the gospel, provide hope, and give people a little bit of a kick in the pants by asking what are they going to do differently this week.
We have to keep the message focused and crisp in these divisive political times. This church is red and blue and purple. We don’t engage that. We stick with the gospel. How you vote isn’t my business. But I say if you have the privilege to impact the world for good by voting, by following your own heart and conscience in prayer, then go do that. We may not all come down on the same side on issues regarding the foreigner or the immigrant in our land, or the economy, or matters of war and peace. But we encourage each person in this church to be doing something—they choose. We have people who come in faithfully to tutor Afghans in the English language. I don’t know what their politics are, but they’re doing gospel work.
Q: The common view says a church’s future depends on young families. How do you address that?
KH: We certainly do need young people for the future. But we live in a town that’s rich in many highly resourced churches, and together we’re not building one particular church but Church, in shared Christian community. So, it’s not necessary that we have children right now in this place in order to be a church. We’re creating an adult learning lab for people who want to take faith seriously and serve meaningfully. Perhaps later, we’ll be able to offer youth education, but until we have adequate money and resources, I’d rather not try to do it at all, especially when others nearby are doing it beautifully. We’ve had young families come, and I tell them we’re very glad they’re here. But my hope for them is that they find the right church to meet their needs at this point in their lives with young children. I always tell them that I know of two great churches two miles this way and two miles that way with great programs for children and youth. I know the pastors, their curriculum, and I would happily introduce them to the clergy, advising them to consider going there for this season in their lives, and saying that they are always welcome here for special programs and concerts.
Q: You believe small churches are part of the future, not just the past. How should ministers-in-training prepare for such a landscape?
KH: I think it’s a good idea for seminaries to prepare graduates to have a non-profit managerial mindset. I think it’s part of what’s required of ministers now, a combination of the practical and the spiritual, including entrepreneurial tools, a willingness to take risks. What if we simply admit: I don’t have all the answers about how to turn around a church in decline, in a society in decline, where religious participation is in decline, but I’m here to serve, come what may. I know a lot of heartbroken clergy who long for church revitalization and for young people to find a faith home. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever, but the church desperately needs new delivery systems for those eternal truths. The old messaging and ways of doing things are not working for a lot of people. There’s a whole world of people who just aren’t going to conventional tall-steeple churches, who are actually drawn to smaller communities of learning and service.
People want a way forward. We put an emphasis on personal transformation—what is the evidence in your life of your faith? Acts of generosity and kindness? I don’t emphasize any particular doctrine or ecclesiology. I emphasize the teachings of Jesus. I’m advocating for a kind of contemporary mysticism, believing Karl Rahner’s words, “The Christian of the future will either be a mystic or will not exist at all.” Lately we’ve had a focus on centering prayer: during Lent we ’ve studied Joan Chittister, Thomas Keating, Richard Rohr. That seems to be tapping into what touches people more than conventional doctrine. We make opportunities for deep, agenda-free sharing. There’s just not much room for that in our competitive, driven, high-performance society. Or just come and enjoy this peaceful, low-tech sanctuary, previously lit by whale oil back in the 1800s when people arrived on horseback and by ox cart. We want people who come to this quiet church to feel welcome, and to walk away knowing that they have a judgment-free, low-pressure spiritual home where they can safely begin their faith journeys anew.