I have been a fan of the CBC TV show Still Standing since I first stumbled on it several years ago while channel surfing. I lingered, admittedly, because I recognized the host, Jonny Harris, from Murdoch Mysteries, and even though I planned to move on I found that I couldn’t turn away. The format is incredibly simple. Harris, a stand-up comic (which I didn’t know), locates small towns, at times on the edge of survival, throughout Canada. Some of these are towns only accessible by ferry through the US; others have been amputated from the wider Canadian community when the railroad died, or the mine closed, or because their sheer perverse location makes them impossible to access. 

In each of these tiny, often fading towns, Harris locates hearty citizens who not only persevere amidst the hardship, but sometimes resurrect them, or build community, against all the odds. Harris interviews these townsfolk and intercuts his in-person interviews with a closing stand-up sketch delivered in front of the entire community, with predictable, but delightful, hilarity. One thing stands out in particular. Harris’s reflection on the town, even as it playfully acknowledges foibles and quirks, is invariably positive and affirmative.

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The show truly travels the country with some of the most popular episodes celebrating life in Fortune, Newfoundland; Pelee Island, Ontario; Turner Valley, Alberta; and Inuvik, NWT. British Columbia also features prominently, with episodes set in Hope, Chemainus, and Haida Gwaii. A surprising repeat theme of so many of these towns is an individual who accidentally migrated there, usually on the way to somewhere else, but found a community and a purpose in the isolated space. Many are migrants who were in search of they-knew-not-what, but stumbled on love, purpose and support. A caring, receptive space, led to a lifelong commitment. In every case, community and belonging are the glue that holds everyone together.

One of the many committees I am a part of, is tasked with identifying Christian church buildings where the communities are dwindling and whose locations need to be put up for sale or repurposed. This reflects a national reality. In 2020, for example, the National Trust predicted that more than a third of the 27,000 ‘faith buildings’ in Canada might close in the coming decade. That’s over 9000 buildings and properties shuttered due to declining memberships, the inability of some parishes to cover skyrocketing maintenance costs or changing community patterns. 

The pandemic further eroded support for and attendance at many parishes, so that an already diminishing community was exacerbated. To add to the complication, many of these faith sites are or have heritage designation, with all of the additional legislative and cost pressures associated with maintaining such buildings.

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In many of the conversations about properties rendered inaccessible because of new urban developments, or concerns that too few parishioners made a particular space viable, I couldn’t help but think of Still Standing. So many of the churches, like the country towns above, were once thriving, still arguably beloved, but kept afloat on a wing and a prayer — literally. And like country towns, faith spaces are more than just a lifeless structure or even simply a place to pray. 

Our churches are spaces where communities, even dwindling communities, come together. They are places of refuge for those in crisis. On a more pragmatic level, they are a home — a ‘third space’ as it’s called — for many groups that do so much for our cities and towns but would be incapable of paying for commercial spaces. This includes volunteer groups, soup kitchens, youth support groups, AA, Girl Guides, CWL and Knights of Columbus, and so many others. 

In a 2025 report, the Canadian Urban Institute (CUI) noted that in Ontario alone, over 900 non-profit organizations used faith spaces. Close to 85 per cent said they had no alternative location.

To put this in perspective, the CUI report noted faith centres account for some 450 million square feet – more than 50 times the floor space of all Canada’s urban libraries. When people are becoming increasingly isolated and quarantined because of social media, human gathering spaces are more important than ever. 

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Certainly, our faith life needs to be championed and celebrated. The decline needs to be reversed. Many of these spaces are sacred. But as Jesus reminded us, the sacred is found where those in need are gathered in his name, and so the church hall, the courtyard where we gather to feed the homeless, the mission annex: these are sacred spaces too, which, like the country towns explored in Still Standing, celebrate the resilience of our diverse and remarkable communities. 

These are places where we can find each other. Where community is formed. Where random strangers might drift in and, perhaps unexpectedly, find their forever home. All this tells me that, instead of being quick to put up the For Sale sign, we need to insist that we remain Open for Business. The health of our communities depends on it.