Nebraska Synod ELCA

Rejoice Lutheran & Gering United Methodist: A Story of Courage, Partnership, and Love that Multiplies

In Gering, Nebraska, a small circle of worshipers at Rejoice Lutheran gathers each Sunday with a certainty that seems to grow stronger the fewer chairs they fill. Ten people, sometimes fifteen. Silver hair, guitar cases, an organist who still coaxes hymns from pipes. They sing. They pray. And then they go—to cook, to teach, to welcome neighbors, to keep the lights on not just for themselves, but for the life buzzing all around their building.

Rejoice is small, yes. But it is not slight.

Tom Smith, a Parish Ministry Associate who has led Rejoice since 2020, talks about the congregation with a proud and kind voice. The story he tells is hopeful and deeply practical—how a small church with a big heart keeps choosing mission over maintenance, people over prestige, and partnerships over pride.

Three anchors that kept Rejoice standing

They love God—and they love one another.
At Rejoice, “small” doesn’t mean scarce. It means every name matters. Every voice is heard. Every gift is needed. On Sundays, nearly a third of worshipers serve in music leadership. The congregation lingers, laughs, and checks in on one another like family—because they are.

They steward a thriving weekday ministry.
Two decades ago, Rejoice opened a daycare and preschool. It’s now one of the strongest in the area, led by a gifted director and filled with families who trust the church with their children.

The school depends on the congregation’s presence; the congregation draws strength and purpose from the school’s daily life. Together, they are a heartbeat of care in the community.

They feed their neighbors.
Once a month, Rejoice joins other churches to prepare and serve a free Wednesday night meal hosted at Gering United Methodist Church (GUMC). Forty people some weeks, eighty the next. The cooks are the same people who filled the pews on Sunday—aprons on, joy evident, service ordinary and holy.

These anchors—love, children, food—kept Rejoice open when many would have closed. They also prepared the ground for what came next.

“We are the church, not the building.”

GUMC is a vibrant congregation that had been pouring resources into a large, aging facility—three stories, steam heat, no air conditioning. They longed to spend more on ministry and less on maintenance. With courageous clarity, they chose to sell their building and seek a new home.

That’s where friendship and ecumenical trust made all the difference. Local clergy who study the lectionary together—Methodist, Lutheran, Episcopal, Presbyterian—had built relationships that made practical imagination possible. As conversations unfolded, GUMC came to tour Rejoice’s accessible, peaceful space. It wasn’t huge, but it was enough. More than that, it was hospitable.

Today, the two congregations share the building. Rejoice worships at 9:00 a.m.; GUMC follows at 10:30 a.m., with a brief early chapel service and Sunday school weaving into the schedule. Offices are shared. Storage is negotiated with care, especially alongside the bustling daycare. Expenses are handled through a rental partnership. And the spirit? It’s generous, curious, and hopeful.

“Anytime someone is willing to leave a sacred space they’ve called home for decades—that’s bold,” Tom says. “They chose ministry over nostalgia. And we chose hospitality over hesitation. We’re neighbors already; now we’re partners.”

When two ministries breathe as one

Sharing a building is the beginning, not the end, of this story. The congregations have already worshiped together—blending liturgies, sharing the pulpit, making a joyful sound that felt, in Tom’s words, “like church.” On fifth Sundays, they plan to gather as one. Bible studies, men’s groups, and community outreach offer natural points of connection. The Wednesday meal is now a shared table in more ways than one.

There’s talk—gentle, prayerful talk—about deeper forms of collaboration down the road. For now, both communities are letting trust lead the way, choosing to “live together” first and listen for what God might be unfolding next.

A word to small congregations everywhere:

If you lead or love a small church, Tom’s counsel is simple and profound:

• Remember who you are. Your name on the sign matters less than the Christ you reflect together.
• Name your priorities. Decide what ministry your neighbors need—and align your resources to meet it.
• Hold space with open hands. Buildings are tools, not trophies. Hospitality and creative partnerships can turn “not enough” into “more than enough.”

The quiet multiplication of love

Rejoice Lutheran’s story is not about becoming bigger. It’s about becoming truer—truer to the gospel that measures health not by headcount, but by hospitality; not by square footage, but by faithful presence.

In one small sanctuary, two congregations now lift their voices. In one shared kitchen, meals become community. In one weekday hallway, children laugh and learn. And in one little church that refused to give up, the Spirit keeps doing what the Spirit does: making all things new, through people who love God, love each other, and keep showing up for their neighbors.

This is how a small group stays alive—and more than that, how it thrives.