
The new Kids Book Nook is a popular spot for families on Sunday mornings at Jordan’s church.
Our church is in the middle of a library renaissance. It began when my wife and I were going through its books and found that 80 percent no longer served our congregation.
After much sorting and recycling, we are learning that physical books – paper and ink, words and images – still have a big role to play in the life of a congregation.
Church libraries are an investment in the future of our parishes. In fact, their subtle decline over the years might say more about the current state of our congregations than we are ready to admit.
By taking a closer look at how church libraries have changed recently, where they came from historically and what they could be in the future, I think we can find some intriguing avenues for church library renewal.
One of the first changes our church made was to create a book nook for families to use on Sunday mornings. Now, every week, kids gather on the cozy rug to hear stories read aloud by a volunteer reader before and after services.
We regularly see six or eight kids crowd around whatever book is being read. Sometimes the reader will pause to invite the shy ones in. Occasionally, my wife and I will ask our kids to be an example by sitting and reading a book themselves.
We know this isn’t a new idea. Books have long been essential to the life of the Christian. Early Church libraries were privately held, but, over time, monasteries, abbeys and cathedrals became the communal spaces for studying and sharing. Public libraries, in fact, owe much to these medieval church traditions. By the Middle Ages, many churches had dedicated library rooms, often lending out books on theology, law and other subjects.

The Kedermister Library dates back to the 1600s. Photo: Jordan Nobel
Kedermister Library at St. Mary the Virgin near London, active since at least 1631, is a great example of how libraries are more than just a source of entertainment.
For centuries libraries were centres of spiritual formation and community life that connected people to the past, rooted them in truth, and pointed them to a future in Christ.
Today, however, many church libraries are forgotten. Tucked away, untouched and dust-covered. As digital media dominates our world through the smartphones in our pockets, books have quietly vanished from all areas of life.
We have slowly moved from page turning to doom scrolling without realizing the associated loss in our churches.
A screen-free oasis
There’s a clear connection between the advance of smartphone culture and the decline of church libraries. While church leaders were building coffee corners, welcome areas and new church programs, some library volunteers quietly spent years trying to compete by adding DVDs and trendy titles, shifting the focus from edification to entertainment (for those wanting to befriend Kirk Cameron in a post-rapture world).
It hasn’t been easy to sustain a vision for what church libraries could be, leaving today’s digital generation disconnected from these spaces.
Even so, I have great hope for the resurrection of the church library. It’s becoming clear that healthy Christian spiritual formation across multiple generations requires learning from unchanging, historic sources of truth, regardless of what technology or media is being widely used.
Consider this: if Christianity is rooted in the real person of Jesus and the factual events of his death and resurrection, then preserving and distinguishing this information is vital in an age of digital disinformation and constant distraction. The Gospel is too important to make it just another app to download or a notification to swipe on.
Teaching our children a love for reading takes on new meaning when we realize that iPads are not likely to pass on the fundamentals of our faith the way a book can (especially if you forget to charge your iPad!).
But how can we do that? How can we look beyond entertainment and digital media? In Priests of History, Sarah Irving-Stonbraker has some wise direction for church libraries. “Tend and keep the past,” she says, using a two-pronged strategy of recovering overlooked stories and preserving tradition.
Here are some of my suggestions along those lines to make sure that church libraries are continually renewed with the changing generations, regardless of technological trends.
Welcome kids: Church libraries should reclaim their identity as places of learning and literacy by intentionally teaching the love of reading to children as a foundational part of spiritual formation.
Be church-specific: Church libraries should reflect God’s unique faithfulness to their congregations. What if they preserved not just books, but the church’s story?
Have a ‘Library of Things’: Church libraries should focus on edification, not entertainment. Built on books but not limited to them. Why not lend worship instruments, art supplies or learning tools? If public libraries loan telescopes, church libraries can also point people to God’s glory in creation.
Be interactive: Church libraries should spark conversation and community by promoting engagement with books. They should encourage notes in margins, comments on sticky notes, and discussion at intergenerational book clubs. Unlike digital media, books offer lasting context and a place to gather around shared learning.
Be accessible: Church leaders should give libraries a visible place in the building. Tucked-away libraries won’t thrive in busy Sunday routines. One church I visited placed its library in the lobby, with eye-catching shelves, a pastoral guide, local authors and an honour-based checkout. Its placement spoke volumes about the church’s values.
Church libraries can rise from dusty back rooms and renew our congregations in the process. They don’t have to be relics. They can be vibrant spaces where faith grows, gospel truth endures and God’s story continues. If we restore them well, future generations won’t just find books; they’ll find God’s unfolding story and their own place within it.

Jordan Noebel
Jordan Nobel is Head of Project Management at the Canadian Centre for Christian Charities and a current Fellow at Cardus NextGEN Fellowship. He reads, writes, and teaches about the impact of technology on family, faith and society.
He lives on Keats Island with his wife and three young children, and spends his time exploring the outdoors and enjoying island life with his family.
This comment was first posted on the Christian Courier site and is re-posted here by permission.
