Today we’d like to introduce you to David Rosa Jr..
Hi David, can you start by introducing yourself? We’d love to learn more about how you got to where you are today?
I was born and raised in inner-city Brooklyn, New York — surrounded by all the blessings and curses that come with growing up in an urban neighborhood: deep community, raw creativity, and resilience shaped by struggle. After losing my mother at a young age, my sisters and I were raised by my father, who eventually moved our family to South Florida in the early 2000s.
Like many young men trying to find their way, I got caught up in addiction, instability, and trouble with the law. But everything changed when my oldest sister invited me to church. That moment sparked something deeper — a hunger to grow, to understand purpose, and to rebuild my life from the inside out. The church became not just a place of salvation for me, but of personal and leadership development — a place that helped me become who I was meant to be.
Now, that’s the very kind of space I work to create for others. I help start and strengthen churches in urban communities so they can be centers of transformation — places that raise up leaders, restore hope, and meet real needs in their neighborhoods. My work is unique in that it blends faith, strategy, and collaboration: I help identify resources and build partnerships that connect them to churches doing good on the ground.
At the core of what I do is a simple belief — that even with its flaws, the church has always been one of the greatest agents for good in our communities. My goal is to help it keep living up to that potential, especially in the places that need it most.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
It’s been anything but a smooth road. In fact, it’s been full of detours, disappointments, and moments that tested everything I believed in. Leading in complex urban environments means the needs are constant, the resources are limited, and the weight of it all can take a real toll.
After ten years of leading our church, we reached a crossroads at the end of this past January. We had a strong community and a deep love for our city, but the structure — what I often call the “machine” of the church — had become too heavy to sustain. Rather than letting it collapse under its own weight, we made the hard decision to shut it down in order to preserve the life of the body.
It was one of the most difficult choices I’ve ever made, but also one of the most honest. It allowed us to rest, reflect, and reimagine what the future could look like — something more sustainable, more collaborative, and more impactful for the neighborhoods we serve. Sometimes leadership isn’t about pushing harder; it’s about knowing when to pause so something new and stronger can emerge.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
My work sits at the intersection of faith, leadership, and community transformation. Through NBHD Roots—the umbrella that connects everything I do—I help leaders and organizations reimagine what it means for the church to serve its city with wisdom, creativity, and compassion.
That includes my work with City to City Miami and Church United, where I help develop pastors and strengthen churches across South Florida, as well as national partnerships with NaLEC (the National Latino Evangelical Coalition). I also lead projects like Maroon House, which focuses on providing Black and Brown Christian leaders with soul care, contextual resources, and life-giving community as they do their important work on the ground.
At its core, my work is about helping people love their neighborhoods well. I travel, consult, and coach leaders—connecting them with the resources, relationships, and renewal they need to lead with health and impact. I call this hyper-collaboration—when churches, nonprofits, and civic partners move beyond cooperation to shared ownership of community good.
What I’m most proud of isn’t the scale but the stories: seeing everyday people and neighborhood churches rediscover purpose, rebuild trust, and help their cities flourish again.
Risk taking is a topic that people have widely differing views on – we’d love to hear your thoughts.
Risk has always been part of my DNA. Growing up where I did, you learn early that life often demands resilience — to “just keep thugging it out.” That mindset can be a strength, but it can also become a trap. Sometimes what looks like endurance is really avoidance. I’ve learned that real resilience isn’t just pushing through — it’s knowing when to pivot, pause, or take a bold risk for the sake of something greater.
Shutting down the institution of the church I helped build with our team over ten years in order to preserve the mission was one of the hardest and riskiest decisions of my life. But it was necessary. From that decision came a reimagined, decentralized model of ministry — one that focuses less on buildings and more on presence, less on programs and more on people. That, too, was a risk.
But the reality is, you can’t do great things without taking risks. I’m a risk-taker by nature — I’m always willing to go first, to test the edges of what’s possible. The key is to take risks in faith and with wisdom: to study, to listen, and then to move with conviction when the moment comes.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.davidrosajr.co
- Instagram: @davidrosajr
- Facebook: @pastordavidrosajr
- Other: https://www.nbhdroots.com
