Harnessing the Parish for Mission: Reflections for a Flourishing Future

A talk given by Bishop Esther Prior at the STP Conference

I want to begin with a simple declaration: I am here because I love parish ministry. I am here because I believe in it — not as an outdated model or a sentimental attachment, but as one of the most extraordinary gifts we have as a Church for mission and community life in our nation. I am committed to its flourishing, and I long to see us rediscover its potential for the sake of the gospel.

I want to talk about how we harness the Parish for mission. That’s how I chose to interpret your strapping ‘Parish is for life’. I offer these reflections not as a blueprint, but as a contribution to our shared conversation about how we might keep our parishes growing, flourishing, and sustainable for the future. I want to speak out of my own experience — the ordinary and the hard-won lessons of local ministry.

May I begin on a note of hope by acknowledging that we don’t grow anything — Jesus does. “I will build my church,” he says, “and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.” That truth makes parish ministry a profoundly joyful and hopeful pursuit, because it reminds us that we are joining in with what God is already doing.

God chooses to work through the ordinary — through people, place, and presence. Parish ministry embodies that. It is local, relational, and incarnational. It is the church being rooted among people in real time and space — sometimes messy, always beautiful.

I hope you take it as read that everything we do in this endeavour must be undergirded by prayer, because as Paul reminds us, we plant and we water, but only God brings the growth. So, as we talk about mission and flourishing, we do so on our knees — dependent on the God who alone can bring an increase, and who continues to call us to be faithful in the fields where we are planted.

Guiding Scripture

Let me ground our reflection in Scripture — in that beautiful portrait of the early church in Acts 2:42-47, which for me has remained a guiding scripture when I think about the local church:

“They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer… All the believers were together… They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favour of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.”

This passage fuels my imagination of what a parish church can look like: a community devoted to worship and prayer, open to the Spirit, sharing life together, caring for the poor, and held in favour by its neighbours — a community through whom the Lord adds daily those being saved.

I am hoping we will have an adventure together delving into parish ministry and I will do so by reflecting on practice, if I may? I suspect that I am not going to say anything that you don’t already know and do, but I hope our time together will refire your imaginations and maybe add awareness and intentionality to what you already do.

My reflections begin where parish life always begins — with people. When I served in Cove (Farnborough), I began to ask myself two simple but powerful questions:

Who is here, and who is missing?

These questions became a habit, a lens for discerning God’s invitation in any context. In Cove, the people Godhad given us included a gifted musician whose wife ran a ballet school. When we released them to pioneer something new, they brought music, drama, and dance into the life of the church. That ministry drew in people from the wider community. For some, belonging came before believing — but it was belonging that opened the door to faith.

Later, when I moved to Egham, I could have arrived with a “Cove blueprint” and decided that dance was the key to growth! But I needed to pray and listen to see how the Spirit would contextualise his work. At Egham I discovered a different set of gifts waiting to be released — a group of passionate eco-warriors with a vision for creation care.

As we set them free, that ministry became a doorway into mission: the birth of an annual Eco Festival, a Community Fridge, a Park Run partnership, and, the launch of the Genesis Project, planting 400 trees in our community. St John’s attained the Arocha Gold award. They now have an army of volunteers — most of them not yet part of our church. And yet, through their involvement, new relationships are forming, and some are being drawn into the life of faith.

One of the most moving things for me was watching how partnership leads to invitation. A local civic leader — not a Christian —became a close collaborator in developing Egham as a festival town. He said to me, “Esther, what you want to do is create an expansive space where everyone is invited. Some people might want the full Jesus experience you offer, others may not, but the message is: all are invited.” That, I think, is a wonderful description of parish mission. The parish is the place where the gospel invitation is made public — open, generous, grounded in love of neighbour and community life. It is the church’s front door, flung wide open.

Who is there and what might unfold if their gifts are released?

And of course, the other side of the question remains: who is missing?

In Cove it was men and young families. Naming that gap gave us focus. We began to ask what it would look like to engage them intentionally — through worship, community life, and discipleship. Over time, the demographics of the congregation began to change.

Asking who is missing keeps us honest. It challenges us to look beyond the familiar and to notice those we have unconsciously excluded or overlooked.

So I invite you to pause and reflect on your own context:

• Who has God given you in this season?
• What gifts and callings might emerge if those people are equipped and released?
• Who is missing, and how might that awareness shape your priorities for mission?

The Geography: Where Are We Planted?

The second question that shaped parish life for me is geographical: where are we?

The theology of place matters deeply in parish ministry. God did not call us into an abstract church; he planted us in a specific patch of earth, with its schools and pubs, its green spaces and housing estates, its bus routes and coffee shops. Our buildings, our streets, our shared history — all of these are part of the story God is writing in our parishes.

When I was at St John’s Cove, there were five schools within walking distance. That fact alone reshaped our ministry priorities. We began to see our parish through the lens of those families, and gradually, we began to look more like our community.

In Egham, geography was equally formative. The church is at the top of the High Street — visible, yet separated from the centre by a busy road. That physical divide mirrored a spiritual one. We realised that to reach our community, we needed to cross the road and invite others to do the same – literally and figuratively.

We began to build intentional partnerships in the town centre — joining community events, opening our campus for public use, and creating shared festivals that celebrate life in Egham. Bit by bit, we found ourselves becoming more present — not a church tucked away, but a church at the heart of community life. Presence, partnership, and prayer — those are the three ways we inhabit place.

The parish system gives us an extraordinary advantage: we are already there. The question is whether we will inhabit that place deeply, listen well, and discern what God is already doing in our neighbourhoods.

So again, a question for reflection:

• What are the distinctive features of your parish geography?
• What are the opportunities or barriers to mission in your local context?
• How might your buildings and your location serve, rather than constrain, the gospel?

The Self: Who Am I in This Place?

The third layer of reflection is personal. We’ve asked about people — who is here and who is missing. We’ve asked about geography — where we are planted. The final question is about you.

What are the passions, gifts, and callings that you bring into this ministry?

What needs to find expression in order for you to flourish as a priest, deacon, or lay leader?

For me, I realised my passion was for those who pass by. This really struck me when I was looking for a new post after Cove. To my surprise, I found myself dismissing any churches that didn’t have a Churchyard or extensive church grounds! I hadn’t pegged myself as a churchyard kind of girl, but I realised that a real value for me is it enabled what I think of as the ministry of those who pass by. I have always used the churchyard to create sacred spaces for those who pass by. I am convinced that a lot of people are searching and among them are people who are nowhere near coming into our churches, nowhere near ready for a personal conversation, but if you provide sacred spaces for them, where they can engage in their own time and in their own way – that is a wonderful thing.

My other passion is releasing and empowering others. I could go on about this but if I tell you that by the time I left St John’s we had 30 preachers, with the youngest being 12, you will get a hint that this is something I pursue intentionally.

Parish ministry asks for authenticity more than perfection — for presence more than performance. It asks that we bring our whole selves — our faith, our questions, our limitations — and allow God to use them. So, I wonder: what are the passions within you that need permission to breathe again? What gives you joy in ministry? What has become too heavy? Where might God be inviting you to rediscover your first love for the parish and its people?

Harnessing the Parish for Mission

When we hold these three lenses together — people, geography, and self — something powerful happens. We begin to see the parish not as a structure to defend but as a living ecosystem of mission. The parish becomes the place where faith and community meet; where the gospel takes root in local soil.

Harnessing the parish for mission, then, is not about adding more programmes or stretching already tired clergy. It’s about aligning what we already have — people, place, and passion — with the life of the Spirit. It’s about creating expansive spaces, as my Chamber of Commerce friend said, where all are invited — where belonging leads to believing. It’s about noticing where God’s grace is already at work in our neighbourhoods and joining in.

And it’s about trusting that the God who planted the church in every corner of this land is not finished with us yet.

A Word for the Future

At times, the challenges facing the parish can feel overwhelming: declining attendance, financial pressures, the weight of administration. But I remain convinced that the parish, rightly imagined, holds within it the seeds of renewal. Because the parish is the place where the church remains visibly present to its community.

We are not custodians of decline. We are stewards of hope. When we invest in relationships, when we pray for our communities, when we release the gifts of our people and engage with the geography of our place — the parish has every potential of becoming a sign of the kingdom.

The story of Acts 2 continues to be written in our towns and villages, our estates and cities. People still break bread with glad and sincere hearts. Communities still praise God and find favour with their neighbours. And the Lord still adds to their number those who are being saved.

I began with Acts 2 as a place I go to fuel my vision for Parish ministry, and I want to end with the passage that fuels my prayers:

“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”

Ephesians 3.20-21

Closing Prayer

So let us pray to the God of immeasurably more:

Lord Jesus Christ, you are the builder of your church and the hope of every parish. Renew our love for the people among whom you have placed us. Give us eyes to see what you are already doing, hearts to serve with joy, and courage to re-imagine the parish as a place of mission and grace. Add to our number daily, those being saved. To you be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus, throughout all generations, for ever and ever. Amen.

© Esther Prior 2025