By Taylor McCall

Babel, the powers, the nations, and why following Jesus might mean caring deeply about the places where God has put us.

I’ve been thinking lately about whether we’ve made the Gospel too small. Not untrue, just small.

For many of us, the story of Christianity has primarily been told at the level of the individual. I was lost. Jesus found me. My sins were forgiven. I get to spend eternity with God. All of that is beautiful, and there’s truth in all of it. But when you zoom out and look at the whole biblical story, there seems to be something much larger going on.

God doesn’t only seem interested in people. He seems deeply interested in peoples, nations, neighborhoods, land, culture, systems, and cities. In fact, one of humanity’s earliest organized rebellions against God culminates in the building of one.

Babel Was More Than a Tower

Most of us know the story of Babel in Genesis 11. Humanity gathers together and decides to build a city and a tower that reaches to the heavens. They say, “Let us make a name for ourselves.”

What strikes me is that their rebellion doesn’t merely produce bad individual behavior. It produces a place. A city. A culture. A collective identity organized around a particular vision of human flourishing apart from God.

Babel becomes more than a tower. It represents humanity attempting to create its own security, identity, greatness, and kingdom.

God disrupts the project. The languages are confused, the people scatter, and the nations are divided. But there’s another passage that seems to give us a glimpse into what was happening behind the scenes.

Deuteronomy 32:8–9 says:

“When the Most High gave to the nations their inheritance, when he divided mankind, he fixed the borders of the peoples according to the number of the sons of God. But the LORD’s portion is his people, Jacob his allotted heritage.”

The late biblical scholar Dr. Michael Heiser spent much of his career exploring passages like this. There’s an important textual discussion around the phrase “sons of God,” but Heiser argued that the oldest textual evidence points toward divine beings rather than “sons of Israel,” as some translations have it.

If he’s right, Babel wasn’t merely the moment humanity developed different languages. It was also a spiritual disinheritance of the nations. Humanity had repeatedly rejected God’s rule, so God divided the peoples and allotted them under members of the heavenly host.

And then God did something surprising.

He started again, not with another city, but with a family.

Abraham and God’s Plan for the Nations

Immediately after Babel, God calls Abraham. I don’t think that placement is coincidental.

Genesis 11 ends with the nations scattered. Genesis 12 begins with God saying to Abraham, “I will make of you a great nation.”

But the promise doesn’t stop with Abraham’s nation. God says that through him “all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”

That changes how we understand Israel. God chooses one family with the eventual purpose of blessing every family. He creates one nation with the intention of ultimately reaching all nations.

From the beginning, God’s election of Abraham wasn’t merely about creating insiders. It was about eventually blessing outsiders. The story was already moving back toward the nations.

God intended to reclaim what rebellion had fractured.

The Powers Behind the Powers

Psalm 82 gives us one of the strangest scenes in Scripture. God stands in what the Psalm calls the divine council and judges other spiritual beings because of how they’ve ruled.

What I find especially interesting is what God confronts them about. He tells them to give justice to the weak and fatherless, maintain the rights of the afflicted and destitute, and rescue the weak and needy.

In other words, whatever is happening in the unseen realm eventually has consequences on the ground.

Injustice. Oppression. The vulnerable being forgotten. The weak being exploited.

That idea has caused me to think differently about cities.

Cities are shaped by more than individual choices. They’re shaped by stories, systems, economies, institutions, histories, generational wounds, collective imagination, and, if we take passages like these seriously, spiritual powers.

What we worship eventually gets built, and what gets built eventually shapes the people who live there.

Maybe spiritual formation and place formation are more connected than we’ve realized.

Cosmic Geography

Daniel 10 gives another strange glimpse into this reality. Daniel prays and an angelic messenger is sent to him, but the messenger says he was delayed for twenty-one days by “the prince of the kingdom of Persia.” The archangel Michael eventually comes to help him. Later, another spiritual figure is mentioned: “the prince of Greece.” Michael, meanwhile, is described as the prince connected to Daniel’s people.

Persia has a prince. Greece has a prince. Israel has Michael.

Heiser used the phrase cosmic geography to describe this idea that earthly territories have an unseen spiritual dimension.

That raises an interesting question for those of us who care about cities: What if geography matters more than we think?

We often practice Christianity as though place is incidental. We drive to church, attend a service, drive home, consume Christian content, and try to become better individual Christians. But the biblical story repeatedly attaches God’s activity to actual places: Jerusalem, Nineveh, Corinth, Rome, The United States. Phoenix, Tampa, Ft. Myers, Birmingham, LA, St. Louis, Ferguson, Alton.

Cities aren’t merely backgrounds where God’s activity happens. They become arenas in which kingdoms collide.

And then Jesus arrives.

Jesus Begins Reclaiming the Nations

Jesus’ central announcement wasn’t, “Here’s how you can escape earth someday.” It was, “The Kingdom of God has come near.” This was and always has been the Good News!

Then Jesus does something fascinating.

He chooses twelve apostles. That number makes sense. Twelve tribes of Israel. Jesus is symbolically announcing the restoration of Israel.

But then Luke tells us Jesus appoints another group. Depending on the ancient manuscript tradition, the number is 70 or 72.

Why that number?

Genesis 10, the Table of Nations associated with Babel, was traditionally numbered as seventy nations in the Hebrew tradition, while some Greek textual traditions produce seventy-two.

So Jesus sends 70/72.

Twelve for Israel. Seventy for the nations.

I believe that what we’re seeing here is that Jesus is making a profound statement about what his Kingdom is going to do. God is reclaiming what was scattered at Babel.

And what happens when they return makes this even more interesting. They tell Jesus, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!”

Jesus responds, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven.”

The representatives of the nations go out announcing the Kingdom. Spiritual powers begin submitting. They return celebrating what has happened, and Jesus talks about Satan falling.

Something has begun.

The nations are coming home.

When Babel Starts Running Backward

Then we get to Pentecost.

Acts 2 tells us that people from nations across the known world are gathered in Jerusalem when the Spirit falls. Suddenly everyone begins hearing the Gospel in their own language.

Think about what happened at Babel. Languages divided and people scattered.

At Pentecost, the languages don’t disappear. Instead, the Spirit crosses the barriers Babel created. People from different nations and languages suddenly hear the same good news.

Babel Starts Running Backward

And then Jesus gives his followers their mission: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations.”

The same nations scattered at Babel. The nations Abraham was promised would someday be blessed. The nations Psalm 82 says God will inherit. The nations represented by the seventy. The nations gathered at Pentecost.

The mission keeps moving outward: Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and the ends of the earth.

And everywhere the Gospel goes, it eventually arrives somewhere tangible.

A neighborhood. A village. A city.

What Does This Mean for Our Cities?

This is where all of this has been challenging me.

What if following Jesus isn’t about asking, “How do we get more people to attend church?”

What if it’s about asking, “What would it look like for the Kingdom of God to become visible in this place?”

What happens when followers of Jesus begin taking responsibility for the flourishing of the city where God has placed them?

I’m not talking about controlling the city or conquering it. I’m not talking about trying to build some kind of Christian empire.

I’m talking about serving it. Loving it. Repairing what has been broken. Creating what is missing. Standing with those who have been forgotten.

Building institutions that bring life. Creating businesses that dignify people. Making beautiful places. Strengthening families. Mentoring kids. Having a meal with the hungry. Creating opportunity. Restoring abandoned buildings. Starting and revitalizing schools. Coaching teams. Opening coffee shops. Building tables long enough for people who would never normally sit together.

What if all of that can be Kingdom work?

Because if the Gospel is ultimately about God reclaiming and restoring his creation, then maybe the Church isn’t merely supposed to announce that another world is coming. Maybe we’re supposed to become a foretaste of that world in this one.

This Is What We Mean by Brave Cities

A Brave City isn’t a city Christians control. It isn’t a city where everyone votes the same way or where churches become the most powerful institutions in town. It certainly isn’t a vision of Christians taking over society.

It’s something much more like Jesus.

A Brave City is a place where people shaped by the Kingdom of Jesus courageously take responsibility for the flourishing of their neighbors.

It happens when Christians stop asking only, “What does our church need?” and begin asking, “What does our city need?”

It happens when we stop measuring success only by what happens inside our buildings and begin paying attention to what is happening outside of them.

Are kids flourishing? Are families becoming stronger? Are lonely people finding community? Are entrepreneurs being encouraged? Are forgotten neighborhoods receiving investment? Are young people being given a reason to stay? Are the poor being dignified? Are beautiful things being created? Are broken things being repaired? Are unlikely people sitting around the same tables?

Interestingly, when God judges the powers in Psalm 82, these are precisely the kinds of things he seems concerned about: justice, the vulnerable, the forgotten, the oppressed.

Maybe Kingdom work has always been more tangible than we thought.

We Don’t Take Cities From People. We Give Ourselves for Them.

There’s an important distinction here.

Language like “taking our cities back” can easily become distorted into something Jesus never modeled. It can become about political power, control, dominance, or winning a culture war.

That isn’t the Kingdom Jesus demonstrated.

Jesus washed feet. He touched lepers. He ate with outsiders. He welcomed children. He dignified people society ignored. He fed hungry people. He confronted oppressive power. He entered suffering rather than avoiding it.

Ultimately, Jesus defeated his enemies by dying for everyone.

So when we talk about reclaiming cities, we aren’t talking about taking cities from people.

We’re talking about giving ourselves for people.

That’s an entirely different posture.

It’s time for churches to stop asking, “How can we become the biggest church in our city?” And start asking; “If our church disappeared tomorrow, would our city grieve?”

Would the schools notice? Would struggling families notice? Would young people notice? Would business owners notice? Would the forgotten notice? Would the neighborhood notice?

That feels like a different measurement of Kingdom impact.

The Bible Ends With a City

There’s one final part of this story that I can’t stop thinking about.

The biblical story begins in a garden. Humanity rebels, and eventually we build Babel.

But Scripture doesn’t end with humanity escaping earth and floating away somewhere.

It ends with something coming down from heaven.

A city.

The New Jerusalem.

And Revelation says the nations will walk by its light. The kings of the earth bring their glory into it. The tree of life is there, and its leaves are “for the healing of the nations.”

That’s where the story is headed.

Not creation abandoned, but creation healed. Not cultures erased, but nations redeemed. Not cities discarded, but a city restored.

Which makes me think that the work we’re doing now, however small, is somehow practice for the world that is coming.

Every abandoned building restored. Every kid given opportunity. Every table where strangers become neighbors. Every business that chooses human dignity over exploitation. Every forgotten neighborhood remembered. Every church community that decides to exist for its city instead of merely in its city.

They are small signs of another Kingdom.

Glimpses of the way things will someday be.

Somewhere between Babel and the New Jerusalem, followers of Jesus have been placed in actual neighborhoods, actual towns, and actual cities among actual people.

I don’t think that’s an accident.

Maybe we’re here to seek the flourishing of the places where God has planted us. Maybe we’re here to show our neighbors what another Kingdom looks like. Maybe we’re here to build things that look a little more like the world that is coming.

Maybe God does want his cities back.

But if Jesus has shown us anything, it’s that his Kingdom doesn’t reclaim places through people grasping for power.

It happens through people brave enough to lay their lives down.

If you've been around Brave Cities for a while, you've probably felt the tension: the longing for something new, the weariness with the limitations of prevailing church models, and the pull toward something older, deeper, and more incarnational. On a recent podcast, we sat down with our friend Jason Bowman to talk about what it really takes to go from inspiration to action — and why so many never make that leap.

One phrase stuck with us: "Benevolent trauma."

It’s the kind of disruption that doesn’t destroy you — it awakens you. The kind that undoes your assumptions, reroutes your priorities, and reorders your life around the poor, the marginalized, the neighborhood, and the Kingdom - around Jesus. It’s a shock that has the hand of grace as its source.

And if you're serious about change, you need that kind of moment.

Why Don’t People Change?

We’ve seen it countless times. People read Brave Cities. They resonate deeply. They show up at conferences or cohort calls. They nod, underline, highlight. But... nothing changes.

So we asked ourselves: Why?

The answers were sobering:

• There’s no clear pathway forward.

• The risk feels too high.

• The cost is unclear.

• Failure is assumed.

• And for many, there’s a deep loyalty to the familiar — even when it no longer bears fruit.

And yet:

“There is no Kingdom pursuit in congruence with the avoidance of the poor.”

This one line hit us like a freight train during the episode.

Building New Roads

We’re not just naming the problem — we’re building the way forward. Here’s what that looks like as we build out Brave Cities - to serve people like you. Over the next few months, you’ll be hearing more about the following:

• An Online Community
  For those ready to take next steps but unsure how to start — this is a primer into the architecture, economics, and spiritual formation of city-based, missional life. Soon, you’ll be able to subscribe for minimal cost to an online community meant to inspire and empower you.

• A Learning Cohort and Local Immersions
  We’ll host real-life immersions in cities like Tampa, Alton, Aliquippa, and Phoenix — not as tourist stops, but as living, breathing labs of Kingdom ecosystems. And you’ll get to journey with like-minded practitioners so you don’t feel as alone.

• Prayer & Discernment
  We don’t want to just hand you a toolkit — we want to kneel with you and ask God what this might mean for your neighborhood, your family, and your life. We need His voice.

• Economic Ecosystems
  We’re serious about sustainability. You can’t just “take a leap” into full-time incarnational work with no way to stay afloat. That’s why we’re building funding models, business ecosystems, and economic structures that can support the long game. There’s no avoiding that this stuff gets built from the ground up, but we want to journey with you and coach you.

You May Not Be a Builder — Yet.

During this episode, we spent some time wondering whether this work is just for the apostles and prophets — the pioneers who can’t help but blaze a new trail. And maybe it starts there. Maybe you’re called to this if you can’t help but do anything else, despite the costs and risks.

But here’s what we believe:

Transformative experiences aren’t just for the gifted — they’re for the hungry.

And often, it's not the confident leaders but the ones whose lives have been undone — by a neighborhood, by a song, by the pain of others — who end up becoming the Moses figures of their corner of the forgotten places of empire.

We’re committed to walking with you by building a structure, a system, and a Spirit-filled rhythm that can hold this work. We need all three.

Where to Go From Here

If you're still with us, here's how you can engage:

• Watch or listen to the full episode — “Benevolent Trauma: A Pathway to Brave Cities”

• Engage our chat room as a first step in connecting with other practitioners across the nation. You're less alone than you might think.

• Stay tuned for the fuller experience of our online community coming soon - with additional learning content, opportunities to chat with the Brave Cities team, and more. If you’d like you can pledge for a paid subscription once it becomes live.

• Watch for our first cohort and coaching opportunities. Information will be released soon.

We’re not promising ease. We are promising a path. And if this is your first night at Fight Club…you have to fight.

With you and for you,
The Brave Cities Team

Not hosting church services.
Not putting up signs.
Not building a brand.

Just walking the streets. Hosting concerts. Playing bingo. Listening to neighbors. Giving out water bottles—without a logo.

When David first arrived in the neighborhood back in 2008, his plan was simple: plant a church. He had done it before. He had the training. He had the backing. And he had a model.

But as he and his wife began building relationships in the neighborhood—an eclectic community of artists, entrepreneurs, activists, and people who had long given up on church—they realized something startling:

“The only thing I knew for sure,” David said, “was what we weren’t supposed to do.”

It turns out what the neighborhood didn’t need was a church service. What it did need was someone to stay. To listen and show up. Over and over again.

From “My Event” to “Their Event”

In the early years, David’s vision started to change. At a neighborhood blues concert in a local park, he thought: Maybe next year we can host one of these events. But instead of hosting his own, he joined the team organizing it. The year after that, he was running it. But not as “the church guy.” Just as a neighbor.

At every step, he gave up the urge to promote himself or his church. Instead, he quietly built credibility as someone who loved the neighborhood for what it was—and for what it could be.

“At one point I felt like God said, ‘I don’t want you to do your own event. I don’t even want you to do your thing inside their event. I want you to do their event—and do it better than they ever could have imagined.’”

The Melvin Theater and the Power of Presence

Eventually, David was handed the keys to a historic but crumbling neighborhood theater—The Melvin. It had changed hands for years, passed from one failed church plant to another. Everyone had tried to turn it into a sanctuary. David saw something else: a community center, an open stage, a neighborhood living room.

Today, the Melvin hosts youth programs, multicultural artist showcases, open mic nights, and a thriving basketball court out back—“the most valuable ministry asset in the neighborhood,” according to David.

There are no sermons. There’s often no “church service.” But there is real ministry, real transformation, and real hope.

We’ve Been Taught to Rush. But What if the Kingdom Moves Slowly?

In the church world, success is often measured by numbers: how many came, how many stayed, how many gave. But in David’s world, a “win” looks different:

• It’s a bar owner becoming an ally.

• It’s a kid finding a safe place to shoot hoops.

• It’s a neighbor showing up to a meal and realizing they’re not alone.

This is what we mean when we talk about building kingdom ecosystems instead of planting conventional churches. Not programs. Not platforms. Just good soil. And the courage to stay long enough to see something grow.

As David says, “You can’t reap until you’ve sown. And sowing might take twenty years.”

So, What If…

What if the future of the church isn’t about being known for your branding—but for your love?

What if the best missionary posture is one of presence and patience?

What if the highest calling isn’t to build something fast—but to till the soil so that the next generation can reap the harvest?

And what if instead of launching something new we committed to simply joining the story that’s already unfolding around us?

Because sometimes the most powerful thing you can do… is stay.

Listen to the full conversation on the Brave Cities Grey Pages Podcast:
“Play the Long Game: A Lowered Bar and a Lowered Branch”

What does it take to move from inspiration to action? In this episode, the Brave Cities crew is joined by digital strategist and pathway architect Jason Bowman, alongside longtime co-laborer Joel Repic from Aliquippa, PA. Together, they tackle the growing desire among church leaders and creatives to reimagine church, mission, and community life—and the sobering reality that very few actually make the leap.

Through the lens of denominational structures, digital platforms, and embodied life among the poor, the team explores:

• Why inspiration rarely translates into real-world change

• The challenge and gift of being apostolic or prophetic in established systems

• The urgent need for clear, actionable pathways into sustainable mission

• What Leviticus, Moses, and benevolent trauma have to do with kingdom movements

• The role of structure, systems, and the Spirit in forming resilient alternatives to Babylon

Jason brings hard-earned wisdom from the online learning world, while Joel reflects deeply on denominational shifts and discerning God’s activity in the margins. Jon, Hugh, and Taylor weave in stories, metaphors, and convictions drawn from their own journeys into intentional, incarnational living.

🔑 Key Themes

• Apostolic loneliness & the cost of loyalty

• Why most leaders recreate what they left

• Making obedience plausible through real pathways

• From prevailing models to prophetic experiments

• Fundraising, risk, and the economics of mission

• “Benevolent trauma” as an engine of transformation

• Dual operating systems & monastic imagination

• Building new wineskins without dishonoring old ones

At Brave Cities, we believe that what’s needed is neither a top-heavy church hierarchy nor a profit-obsessed business empire. We’re building a different kind of architecture—one where the walls between nonprofit and for-profit are permeable, and where power, risk, and ownership are thoughtfully shared for the common good.

Why We Start with a 501(c)(3) Holding Company

The divide between for-profit and nonprofit is often overstated. Legally, the IRS sees two distinct categories, but practically, the difference is just tax treatment. What we’re witnessing in today’s landscape is a blur—businesses are waking up to purpose, while nonprofits are realizing they can’t just panhandle their way to sustainability.

We’ve embraced a hybrid structure: a 501(c)(3) holding company that wholly owns a constellation of subsidiary LLCs. These entities can generate revenue, hire top talent, and compete in the marketplace while funneling all profits back into a shared mission. This model allows for both flexibility and protection, for both agility and accountability.

We’re not building an organization—we’re building an ecosystem.

Why This Model Works

Efficacy: Think Rabbits, Not Elephants. Big institutions are slow, expensive, and vulnerable. Grassroots organisms—small, agile, contextually rooted—are resilient. We don’t need to scale a giant—we need to multiply small, replicable, interdependent organisms that serve the movement, not the other way around.

Startup Incubation. Servant leadership thrives when it's coming from underneath. Our holding company exists to empower new ventures with legal infrastructure, branding, finance, coaching, and media support. We’re a launchpad for kingdom-rooted, justice-oriented, people-first ventures.

Decentralization. This model enables a decentralized, polycentric leadership that leads to a distributed network of resources. Overtime an ecosystem will emerge. No single vision, no single hero—just a symphony of diverse gifts working together toward transformation. Each entity is autonomous and accountable, interconnected but never codependent.

Why It Matters Ethically & Economically

Optics & Ethics. If an individual owns a business aimed at social good, there’s always a question: “Who really benefits?” But when a nonprofit owns that business, there’s no personal gain—only public good. The mission owns the margins.

Proclamation. Our structure itself is a proclamation. It says, “We are not in this for ourselves.” All our entities exist not to accumulate equity, but to serve our city. It’s not just about doing good—it’s about doing it in a way that shows what the kingdom looks like in practice.

Why Subsidiaries?

Tax Exemption. A single-member LLC owned by a 501(c)(3) inherits its nonprofit status. This enables for-profit activity with tax-exempt purpose alignment.

Liability. Separate entities mean lawsuits or defaults in one don’t jeopardize the others. Like hospital networks with independent clinics, we protect the whole by compartmentalizing the parts.

Independence + Interdependence. Each initiative has its own leadership, brand, and operational focus. But we share vision, infrastructure, and support. We’re free and federated.

Accountability Over Power. This isn’t top-down control. It’s collaborative oversight. Subsidiaries aren’t “less than”—they’re protected, focused, and empowered.

Collective Identity: Wu-Tang Meets Fight Club

Think Wu-Tang Clan: independent artists, shared ethos, stronger together. Each entity stands on its own but benefits from the strength of the collective.

Now think Fight Club: no logos, no central bragging rights. You don’t talk about it—you live it. Every entity embodies the spirit of the whole, even without overt branding. The ethos is what binds us, not the label.

Practical Design Considerations

• Board Integration: Cross-pollination ensures alignment and mutual understanding.

• Brand Management: Clear boundaries allow brand identities to flourish without interference.

• Funding Strategy: Our model helps secure more powerful funding partnerships by showing collective impact without sacrificing local autonomy.

• Major Decisions: While day-to-day operations remain local, big capital moves require parent-level involvement, offering both protection and strategic alignment.

In Summary

This structure is not just smart—it’s just. It’s resilient, scalable, and mission-aligned. It’s the legal infrastructure for a city-wide movement of grassroots impact, entrepreneurial courage, and radical solidarity. It’s how we make sure that when we say we’re building Brave Cities, we’re actually architecting something that can last.

If you’ve ever dreamed of a structure that allows you to build with integrity, multiply with sustainability, and serve with freedom—this might just be it.

David shares his evolution from entering a marginalized neighborhood with the classic church planting mindset to uncovering that what the neighborhood actually needed was something much different — presence, patience, listening, and decades of relationship-building.

From running neighborhood events and building a beloved outdoor basketball court to taking over the historic Melvin Theater and opening it up for the community, David’s story reveals the heart of long-game ministry — where slow, faithful work creates deep roots and real trust.

Topics we cover:

✅ Why David didn’t plant a traditional church
✅ What it means to uncover the “good news” in a neighborhood
✅ How the Melvin Theater became a hub for help, hope, and collaboration
✅ The challenge and beauty of playing the long game
✅ Why small acts of love (like building a basketball court) matter more than flashy programs
✅ The power of contextual mission — and why results may take decades
✅ Rethinking success: from counting heads to reshaping perceptions of God

What happens when you have a vision for a movement, a community rich with potential, and even the funding to back new projects—but you can’t find the leaders to make it all work?

That’s the dilemma we dug into on Episode 17 of the Gray Pages podcast: “Pipeline for Unicorns.” In it, we confront a core tension we’re feeling in real time—how do you build a pipeline for the kinds of leaders needed to co-create a brave city?

Spoiler alert: you don’t find unicorns easily. But you can build toward them.  We’re not just looking for skills.  We’re looking for people who long for the city of God.

In under-resourced neighborhoods, the needs are massive—but so is the potential. What’s often missing is a pipeline of leaders with the right combination of cultural alignment, relational maturity, spiritual depth, and vocational capability. Not just someone who can run a food truck or manage a youth program, but someone who gets the kingdom logic behind it all. That’s the “unicorn” we’re looking for.

The issue isn’t just talent—it’s DNA. And that’s harder to hire for than you might think.

The Myth (and Truth) of “The Laborers Are in the Harvest”

It’s a beautiful phrase—and one we believe deeply. But the real-world application is slow and generational. You can’t microwave leadership development from within communities where cycles of trauma, poverty, or instability run deep. That’s a 40-year investment.

Sometimes, you need outside reinforcements. That doesn’t mean parachuting in saviors or colonizing a neighborhood—it means inviting wild, brave, mission-minded people to embed, learn, and walk in step with the community long enough to become part of it.

We’ve seen it work. But it takes trust, patience, humility, and a deeply formed pipeline.

Pivot Points and Pipelines: Who is Actually Free to Risk?

Over the years, we’ve seen two life stages consistently emerge as pivot points for people who are the most open to radical relocation, risk-taking innovation, and kingdom living:

• Young adults, especially post-college.

• Older adults, particularly early retirees.

Why? They’re unencumbered. They’re curious. They’re available.  College students and recent grads often come with fresh energy, idealism, and openness to risk. Retirees bring wisdom, margin, and often, financial freedom. Both groups are in a place to say “yes” to something new.

Regardless, you can’t just drop people into the Navy SEAL team of your movement and expect them to thrive. They need time to draw near, test the waters, and imagine their life in the context of your ecosystem.

That’s why intentional “come and see” spaces matter. Internships, summer residencies, short-term immersions—these aren’t side projects. They’re on-ramps for the right people to become part of the family.

And make no mistake: that’s what people are joining. Not just a mission, but a family. If you haven’t built that, the pipeline leads nowhere.

From Family to Army to City

In Brave Cities, we often talk about a progression: church as family, church as army, and church as city. You can’t build the city without the family. You won’t win the battle without the army. And you won’t keep the family together without a shared mission.

This is why leadership pipelines are spiritual work. We’re not just looking for staff—we’re looking for people who’ve counted the cost, courageously stared down the narrative of empire, and still chose to say yes.

We don’t need more organizational logos and staff positions supporting those logos. We need more people chasing the presence of God in hidden places. We need movement-builders, not resume builders. We need unicorns.

Ready to Join the Movement?

Maybe you’re a recent grad. Maybe you’re in your second act. Maybe you’re somewhere in between. But if something in your spirit stirs when you hear about kingdom ecosystems, forgotten places, and the joy of quiet faithfulness—reach out.

We’re building cities where God can dwell. And we need builders.

From college campuses to early retiree circles, from missional internships to accidental recruiting, the conversation wrestles with the tension between praying for laborers and practically finding them. What happens when the pipeline dries up in hard places like Alton, Aliquippa, and Suitcase City? What kind of people are drawn to apostolic work—and what kind of formation do they need?

They also reflect on:

• The cost and complexity of relocating talent into the margins

• Why apostolic fervor isn’t for the masses (but is needed for the mission)

• The stages of church as family, army, and city

• The wisdom of monastic models for bringing people closer

• And the danger of moving too fast (or talking too soon) before things are ready

A few raw and real stories—including a heartbreaking one from Jon at the bike shop—remind us what’s at stake and why we must build movements with longevity and deep formation in mind.

In the book of Acts, there’s this strange and beautiful line that still haunts us:

“They had everything in common.”
—Acts 2:44

It sounds impossible. Unrealistic. Naïve, even. But maybe it's also the most radical thing the early church had going for it: an economy of mutual trust, shared burden, and sacrificial love. And perhaps that’s the economy we’re longing to recover.

We’ve been reflecting on the lives of the community in Aliquippa, PA—faithful friends who’ve lived for decades in intentional community. One of the boldest (and most countercultural) parts of their life together? A shared purse. Literally.

For years, their paychecks have gone into a collective fund. From that fund, they’ve paid for housing, transportation, healthcare, food, and mission. They’ve chosen a standard of living far below what their degrees or job titles could have afforded them. And not because they had to—but because they believed a better story.

One rooted in freedom from Empire, not in bondage to it.

One where no one is invisible, and no one is on their own.

You Don’t Start with the Common Purse

If that sounds intimidating (or crazy), we get it. Most of us didn’t start there either.

In our own communities—in Tampa, in Birmingham, in Alton—we’ve stumbled into shared economics in more organic ways:

• A common project that generated shared income

• A shared vehicle, a borrowed tool, a meal dropped off

• A neighbor’s rent covered anonymously

• A common pot of money for community initiatives or needs

None of it formal. None of it perfect. But all of it moving in the direction of “what’s mine is yours.”

Sometimes the experiment was as simple as pooling a bit more money than necessary and asking: Does this spending reflect our values?

Other times, it was letting go of ownership and watching our stewardship become more Christlike—not less—once it was no longer “mine.”

Economics Is Always Discipleship

In a consumer world, even our generosity can become individualistic—my donation, my tithe, my gift. But what if economics isn’t just about giving—it’s about belonging?

What if shared resources aren’t just efficient—they’re formational?

The early church didn’t share out of surplus. They shared out of identity. They weren’t just family in theory—they acted like it.

Maybe our wallets and our spreadsheets are as much a part of our discipleship as our prayer journals and small groups.

And maybe the invitation isn’t just “give more,” but “share more.”

An Alternative to Empire’s Math

Empire tells us there’s never enough. So we hoard. We isolate. We protect.
But the Kingdom keeps surprising us with its math:

One family opens a home, and it becomes refuge.
One car gets shared, and five people get to work.
One rent check is paid, and shame is lifted.
One “common purse” fuels a common mission.

And through it all, we find that there really is enough.

Enough provision. Enough joy. Enough community to make it all worth it.

We may never live the Acts 2 life perfectly. But we can taste it. Practice it. Move toward it.

Not because it’s efficient. But because it’s love.

And love, it turns out, is more sustainable than any budget line

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We explore the tension between being visible in the world and avoiding self-glorification, drawing from Scripture, lived experience, and practical wisdom. From discussions about spiritual posture to nonprofit fundraising, entrepreneurial restraint to kingdom strategy, this episode unpacks why anonymity might just be one of the most important and freeing principles in the ecosystem life.

Topics Covered:

• The freedom of not having to promote yourself

• Jesus’ teachings on secrecy and spiritual intention

• The tension between “let your light shine” and “do it in secret”

• Why we might be getting in our own way with branding, storytelling, and constant updates

• The iceberg metaphor: putting our good works beneath the surface

• Strategic silence and the "Messianic secret"

• How identity, audience, and pressure shape our decisions

• When sharing the story is helpful—and when it becomes performance

• Nonprofit realities, fundraising nuances, and ethical storytelling

• Learning from John Perkins, Bonhoeffer, and the axiom: “Let it be self-evident”

We explore the core values that shape intentional Christian community—prayer, shared life, commitment to place, and the challenge of navigating conflict without losing hope. From common purses to shotgun rhythms on New Year’s Eve, this episode weaves together the sacred and the mundane.

As we reflect on our own journeys of community in places like Alton, Birmingham, and Tampa, we talk about what sustains us when life together gets hard. What does faithfulness look like when it doesn’t feel fruitful? How do we grow into shared rhythms without copying someone else's rule of life? And what does it mean to experiment with kingdom living in the long shadow of empire?

🌿 Key Themes:

• Intentional community & the cost of staying together

• Benedictine spirituality and monastic influence

• Developing covenant life over time

• The difference between expectation and agreement

• Navigating conflict and staying rooted in grace

• The spiritual disciplines that sustain radical life

• The interplay of place, prayer, and prophetic witness

• Generational legacy and what we hope remains when we’re 70+

📚 Mentions & Resources:

• The Community of Celebration (Aliquippa, PA)

• The Rule of St. Benedict

• The Book of Common Prayer

• Catholic Worker Movement

• Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together

• Dorothy Day & Houses of Hospitality

• Festivus (“airing of grievances” 😂)

• The Matrix & the seduction of comfort

This conversation is a must-listen for anyone wrestling with how the church should teach, disciple, and form people into the way of Jesus. Spoiler: it's not through 40-minute sermons and passive listening.

📌 Key Themes & Topics:

• The difference between semantic memory (facts) and autobiographical memory (identity & transformation)

• Why most sermons and passive teaching methods don't lead to real change

• How risk, experience, and relational learning create real discipleship

• The Enlightenment’s impact on the church and why we prioritize information over formation

• Why status and power play such a major role in how we think about church leadership

• How to rethink church gatherings to actually form people spiritually

• Why shame can only be healed in community and not in your prayer closet

• The importance of identity formation in discipleship

💡 Notable Quotes:
🧠 "Your brain doesn’t care about truth—it cares about identity. If we were designed to seek truth, it wouldn’t hurt to change our minds."
📖 "The way we teach in church actually inoculates people against transformation. They think they know something just because they heard it."
⛪ "We’ve been handed a model of church from the Enlightenment that prioritizes intellect, status, and control—none of which actually transform people into Christlikeness."
👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 "How do you deep-teach your children? Do you sit them down for a 40-minute monologue? No. You teach them in the rhythms of everyday life. Why do we think church should be different?"

Key Themes & Topics:

• Reflections on presenting Brave Cities at a denominational gathering

• The tension between traditional church models and a Kingdom ecosystem

• The role of the poor in shaping a true kingdom expression

• The difference between preaching the king vs. demonstrating the kingdom

• How church planting strategies often prioritize wealthier areas over marginalized communities

• Why leading with the kingdom may be the most transformative approach

• Wrestling with the reality that many church innovations are just new ways to gather people, rather than new ways to be the church

"We’re not critiquing just to be contrarian. We’re asking—how do we actually help the poor? How do we build cities of refuge for the hurting?"