Redeemer Rockwall, photo from Facebook.
How does a church grow when there’s nowhere to go? What should a congregation do when the seams are bursting, but people keep coming through the door?
For Redeemer Rockwall, located in the greater Dallas, Texas, area, the solution was not to grow outward: instead, it grew inward and upward, with remarkable results.
Purchases
Zach Pummill joined the staff of Redeemer after he was ordained in 2015, and in 2019 he became the church’s senior pastor. As he describes it, he inherited a healthy, faithful congregation, but one that lived in some ways between worlds.
“We were a suburban church with urban church problems,” Pummill says.
Much of that tension stemmed from Redeemer’s building. Dating back to 1908, the property in the heart of downtown Rockwall had housed three previous congregations, all still extant in the area. When Redeemer first bought the building in 2004, the church was still meeting in rented space on the west side of Lake Ray Hubbard. They had been searching for a home, and at last, they had found one.
That home, however, sorely needed to expand to accommodate for growth. Over the years, various projects helped improve the aesthetics, but eventually, a larger renovation became necessary to create space for worship and hospitality. There was no foyer or gathering space, and the bathrooms were small and congested. Yet being grandfathered into building codes meant any alterations faced a significant challenge: expansion had to remain inside the current building footprint.
“If we moved any of the exterior walls to expand outward,” Pummill says, “we would have lost our grandfathered status and possibly put the church in financial jeopardy. Because what started as renovating part of the building, could have potentially become renovating the entire building. So we had to get creative.”
Pressures
Rockwall, population 55,000, sits about 30 minutes east of Dallas, on the east side of Lake Ray Hubbard. It’s the county seat for Rockwall County, which has seen its population increase by more than 30% since 2020.
At first blush, such in-migration would be encouraging, as it would likely mean more church visitors and members.
But expansion comes at a price — literally and figuratively. Across this stretch of Rockwall County, Interstate 30 is currently being widened to eight lanes, putting pressure on the surrounding land. With fewer parcels available and more demand for them, real estate prices have skyrocketed in advance of the coming wave.
With this reality in mind, the leadership at Redeemer could read the writing on the wall. Any campaign to acquire land and build would not only cost millions, but would be subject to any number of market fluctuations. Worse still, such a campaign would divert funds away from one of Redeemer’s primary ministries: missions work at home and abroad.
This last point hit home particularly hard: “Over the last 15 years we have raised about a million dollars in missions funding,” Pummill says. “If we had raised money for land or for a building, we wouldn’t have any left for missions. And we just didn’t feel comfortable with that.”
Phases
Grappling with all these considerations led to the creation of the HOME campaign, in which Redeemer set out to reenvision the interior of its building. Not only would this eliminate the need for a new campus elsewhere, but it would hold to the original footprint, preserving the property’s grandfathered status.
The church sold some unused land it owned elsewhere to provide the seed funding for Phase 1, a six-month renovation that addressed the gathering space, foyer, and bathrooms, providing needed relief for worshippers on Sunday mornings.
But the real work began in Phase 2. Taking the sanctuary down to the studs, Redeemer sought to expand and beautify its central worship space, putting in hardwood floors and a new ceiling, and opening up the space to allow more seating and more movement inside. Though the church knew it would be costly and time-consuming, this phase was driven by a clear theology.
“A church should look different than any other building I’m in,” Pummill says. “It needs to feel like a space for worship. We can have modern touches, but we also need wood and stone and windows to allow light in and lift up our hearts. A physical space should be set apart, and precious, and holy.”
Phase 2 lasted from August 2025 to February 2026, and during this time Redeemer once again met in a rented space, mercifully not far from the church. Pummill notes that this brief period of exile resulted in a number of joyful surprises, primarily the feeling of “being a church plant again.”
Anyone who has ever arrived early on a Sunday morning to unload trailers or set up chairs knows what kind of bonding experience it can be, as a congregation serves in the trenches together. Such moments are themselves a form of worship, deepening relationships and allowing for new forms of dependence on God and gratitude to him.
Once Phase 2 was completed, however, it was time to return home. The church held a consecration service in February, with one special twist: the congregation began its worship outside the building and entered its new sanctuary singing.
“We wanted our first steps inside the building to be in worship,” Pummill says. “To hold that posture of reverence above all.”
Coming Home
Six months later, having settled back into their building, members of Redeemer know that the challenges are not yet over. A renovation, no matter how extensive, will not solve all problems, and the years ahead (as well as those new lanes on the interstate) will almost certainly bring new pressures to bear on the church.
But the congregation is not worried. The experience of the HOME campaign stretched it in productive ways, both strengthening the leadership and renewing the laity.
“This campaign was a chance for people to recommit to the church, to get excited about the church, and to rediscover the church,” Pummill says. “We experienced a growth that wasn’t found in brick and mortar.”
Asked about the impact of inhabiting an older building over the long term — both its challenges and its joys — Pummill shrugs and takes the question back even further.
“We live in an area full of megachurches with their own feel,” he says. “Here at Redeemer, we’re not chasing trends. We’re getting people who are looking for something deeper than contemporary evangelicalism, who are looking for something 2,000 years old.”
“Sometimes I sit back in the sanctuary,” he added, “and I think: we’re home.”
A regular contributor to byFaith, Benjamin Morris is a third-year student at RTS.