Faith Isn’t Taught — It’s Experienced

What guitar, discipleship, and the decline of the church have in common.

Introduction:

I’ve played guitar most of my life, and over the years, I’ve had the chance to play with some truly talented musicians. Looking back, I can honestly say that I’m not only a better guitarist today, but I’ve also grown more as a musician because of them.

Here’s what I mean. Being a guitarist involves knowing chords, hitting the right notes, and keeping time. But being a musician is more about living the music: expressing yourself, listening, and playing in a way that connects with others. And I didn’t learn that just by practicing alone.

Of course, hours of practice matter. But what truly shaped me was playing alongside people whose skill, creativity, and passion pushed me farther than I could have gone alone.

In those moments — whether on a stage, in a living room, or during a late-night jam session — I learned more than any lesson book could teach. I noticed how someone’s fingers moved across the strings, how they listened for the groove, and how they poured themselves into the music.

That’s the gift of playing with others. You don’t just hear the notes—you experience what it means to live the music.

And faith works in a similar way. It’s not something we learn from afar or memorize from a page. It’s something we experience through the people who walk beside us.

Why Relationships Matter for Growth

Reflect on the experiences in life that truly influenced you. Whether it was learning a trade, starting a career, or figuring out how to be a parent, the most lasting lessons likely didn’t come from a manual or a lecture. Instead, they came from someone who walked with you — showing you, modeling for you, and sometimes even correcting you. Your experiences have shaped who you are.

Faith is similar in that way. At its heart, it’s about relationships. From the start, Jesus didn’t just give a list of rules. He invited people to walk with him, eat with him, watch him heal, forgive, and serve. His words were important, but even more important was his presence. People didn’t just hear about love, they experienced it through his actions, and then they showed it themselves.

That’s why, in Matthew’s Gospel, the final words Jesus gives aren’t about building classrooms or developing a curriculum. He says: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations… teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always.” Notice the movement here, it’s about going with people, sharing life, and carrying presence. It’s about inviting others to encounter Jesus through you.

Discipleship — whether in the first century or today — has never been just about passing along information. It’s about lives shaping lives, where love, courage, and hope are as much embodied as they are taught.

Asking the Hard Question: Why the Decline?

So, if church growth really happens when others encounter Jesus through us in relationships, then it forces us to ask a tough question: What does that say about the decline of the church?

For others to encounter Jesus through us, relationships are crucial. To clarify, many churches already have these connections. People care for each other, share meals, pray together, and support one another in times of need. That’s authentic community, and it matters deeply. These relationships help keep the church alive.

But here’s where it gets complicated. Too often, we wait for someone new to show up on a Sunday morning before we consider making space. Then we quietly assess whether they “fit in” or are “like us” enough before we risk bringing them into the circle. Inside the walls, we may be relational. But outside, we’re often passive.

And when it comes to reaching beyond those circles, the church often replaces connection with information. We dedicate energy to sermons, studies, invitations, and social media posts — without engaging in the slow, vulnerable process of building genuine relationships with neighbors, coworkers, or even strangers. We assume that if people just hear the right words, they’ll join in. Or worse, we leave that work to the “experts” — the pastors, the leaders, the extroverts — rather than recognizing it as the calling of us all.

Maybe the question isn’t just, 'Why is the church declining?' Maybe it’s, 'Why aren’t we willing to risk relationships outside our comfort zones, where faith is not only shared but stretched?'

Why Building Relationships Is Hard Today

If the decline of the church is largely about relationships, then we need to honestly assess why forming them is so difficult in today’s world, especially outside the walls of our congregations.

Part of the challenge is how fast life moves. Most of us feel stretched thin, running from one obligation to the next. Relationships that challenge us or pull us into new areas require time, and time seems like the one thing we don’t have.

Another obstacle is our comfort zones. It’s natural to stick close to people who share our values or experiences. However, doing so causes us to miss the growth that comes from listening to someone else’s story or seeing the world from a perspective that challenges our own.

There’s also the fear of being vulnerable. Real connection requires honesty about who we are, what we struggle with, and where we fall short. That can be intimidating. It feels safer to stay polite, keep relationships shallow, and avoid the risk of being misunderstood or rejected.

All of these barriers stem from a deeper issue: our culture’s consumer mindset. We’ve been conditioned to expect quick results and easy wins. However, relationships don’t work that way. They can’t be rushed, packaged, or checked off a list. They develop slowly, through small choices repeated over time. Building relationships requires patience, courage, and intention. When the church opts for presence over convenience, it offers something rare: a community where people are truly seen, known, and loved.

What This Means for the Church

If decline is more connected to relationships than to information, then the future of the church won’t be secured through better marketing, polished programs, or even more powerful preaching. These can help, but they alone are not enough. What the world longs for — and what Jesus pointed us toward — is encountering him in the presence of one another.

The early church grew not because it had the most impressive buildings or the best organizational strategy, but because people truly lived in community. They broke bread together. They shared what they had. They prayed for one another. Their lives were so connected that faith was experienced as much as it was spoken. That kind of connection is what made the gospel compelling.

The same remains true today. When the church is at its best, it isn’t just a provider of religious services or spiritual content. It’s a community where people sincerely walk alongside each other. Where someone notices when you’re missing. Where meals are shared, names are remembered, stories are honored, and questions are welcomed. It’s a community where you encounter Jesus through others.

And it can’t end at the church door. The church’s witness depends on whether our relationships extend outward — across differences of age, race, background, and belief. The most powerful sermon isn’t always delivered from the pulpit; it’s often demonstrated when someone simply shows up, again and again, with patience and love.

If decline is rooted in relational gaps, then renewal will come through relational courage. And that’s something every person in the church can practice.

Conclusion

If faith is experienced more than it’s taught, then the question isn’t only about the church as a whole — it’s about us. Who is walking with you right now? And just as important, who are you walking with?

Maybe there’s someone in your life who already encourages you, listens to you, or challenges you to grow. Hold on to that gift. Relationships like that are rare, and they influence us more than we realize.

But also consider: is there someone outside your usual circle who might need you to walk with them? It could be a neighbor you don’t know well, a coworker carrying more than they let on, or even someone in your congregation you’ve never truly spoken to. Reaching out might feel awkward. It might push your comfort zone. But those are often the very places where faith comes alive.

This is what discipleship looks like — not just learning about Jesus, but living in ways that make his presence tangible through us. It’s slow, ordinary, and sometimes costly. But it’s also where the gospel gets real.

So maybe the better question isn’t, “Why is the church declining?” but, “Who am I willing to walk with?” Because when we risk relationship, faith multiplies.