10/10

Jesus said, “Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” – John 12:24 (NRSV) 

On May 4th, 2025, Gilead Church Chicago, the congregation that my friend and I started 8 years before, held its final service. Gilead died for the usual reasons: want of money, want of people. 

For the last four months we went on hospice. Shut down non-essential functions. Invited friends and relations to say their goodbyes. Told stories. Shed tears. Held one last Easter Vigil Wrestling Show. 

And then, suddenly, it was over. The final chord of the final song played. The final music stand loaded into my hatchback for the final time. A handful of us loitered outside joking that, as long as we stayed in that driveway, the church we loved still existed. 

Then we got into our cars, drove away, and it didn’t anymore. And as I left that final worship service I thought, “That was great!” 

Not the dying itself. That was exceedingly painful. But the way we died: That we threw ourselves into it, embraced it. That, despite everything in us wanting to cling to this beloved place, we opened our hands and let go, 10/10. Would recommend. 

It’s the only way anything new ever grows, Jesus says. From the death of what came before. And in that death, the thing we loved keeps on living. Takes on new life. 

When we cling, when we eke out, as long as we hold onto that precious grain of goodness, it remains inert. Nothing can ever come of it. A living death. 

But if we die – as long as we just keep on dying, every chance we get – the thing we love will still exist. 

Prayer
Thank you for the life of Gilead Chicago. May it bear much fruit.