Over the last year, one topic that has consumed my attention has been reading and hearing the stories of those who have left their church. Many blogs, essays, articles, and Twitter discussions have emerged, each reflecting the pain, hurt, and anger experienced by individuals. The reasons for leaving are varied and numerous; each person's journey is marked by deep wounds that take time to heal. I wrote about the phenomenon of church hurt a while back, and this week, I found myself revisiting this poignant topic.
I understand the quest for the perfect church is futile, for such a place does not exist. Likewise, I understand the inclination to share one's departure from a church with others. However, it can be disheartening when not everyone is receptive to such a discussion. Some may be curious, while others would rather avoid such complicated conversations.
I find myself straddling both sides of this divide. After spending 14 years in one church, our departure was met with silence—neither those we left behind nor those we encountered outside the church inquired about our reasons. Similarly, upon joining a new church, no questions were raised about our previous departure or our choice of the new congregation. Over time, I realized that avoiding potentially uncomfortable topics is often the easier path to take. After all, ignorance can indeed be bliss, and discussing the weather is infinitely less fraught with tension.
Asking such probing questions may unveil aspects of a person's inner struggles, which can be daunting. There's a natural desire to maintain a facade of pleasantness while avoiding the unpleasant realities lurking beneath the surface. This aversion to discomfort, I've come to realize, complicates the building of genuine, authentic relationships within church communities.
In hindsight, I wish someone had mustered the courage to ask why we left. Recently, during a conversation with friends from our former church, they suggested that some individuals refrain from asking out of a sense of betrayal. When a friend departs without looking back, those left behind feel deeply wounded. This perspective had never occurred to me before; I had assumed indifference rather than hurt.
However, the pain of departure is not one-sided. We lost so much more than just a place of worship. We lost our community, friends, and the relationships we had built over a decade. As a family, we lost a rhythm of life, and we were thrust into the arduous task of building new ones.
When I observe or hear of others leaving their churches, I see common threads: the loss of friendships and the struggle to forge new connections. While rare instances exist where friendships endure, and connections persist, such outcomes are fraught with difficulty.
I, too, grappled with this challenge—it wasn't a transition that came naturally. Having invested deeply in our church and built strong relationships, I hated giving them up and found myself at a crossroads. Yet life dictated our departure, and I had to invest considerable effort to preserve those friendships. Maintaining these connections demanded intentionality and, over time, taught me the value of humility and grace.
However, it can be a solitary endeavour that leaves us emotionally exhausted. I was sick and tired of trying to hold onto relationships where the other party did not seem invested.
A handful of generous souls stayed connected, but many cherished friendships slowly faded. I resisted the drift initially but started to let go with time and the lack of reciprocity. Upon reflection, I've come to understand that fostering connections greatly benefits from the presence of an organic community—the kind that arises naturally through regular interaction. Without such established rhythms, individuals often find themselves adrift.
Modern churches strive to facilitate community-building, offering a plethora of groups tailored to diverse demographics. Yet, finding one's niche among this buffet of options can be daunting.
Can one indeed find “their people” within a span of mere months? Building deep, meaningful friendships needs years of radical vulnerability and openness. Moreover, one must ask oneself if church friendships occupy a prominent or peripheral place within our spectrum of human relationships.
Leaving a church is daunting, fraught with complex layers and vulnerability. For those in leadership roles or employed by the church, the ramifications of departure extend beyond personal relationships, infiltrating the professional sphere. Friendships, work dynamics, and the sense of community cultivated among colleagues—voluntary or paid—inevitably unravel upon departure.
As broken individuals navigating a broken world, we understand that ministry life is fraught with challenges. While we may establish boundaries and try to replicate the corporate world, the inherent nature of serving others reminds us that challenges persist. Ultimately, our focus should not be on numbers but on serving God and one another.
For me, leaving was a journey into introspection and deep contemplation. It led me to confront the sources of my pain and the reasons that propelled my departure. I will not say these are universal, but these are moments in my journey with which I have wrestled. Moments marked by anger, questioning, and frustration.
Lack of Trust—You can always tell when people are not being honest with each other. I abhor passive-aggressive behaviour. I come from a culture where women often play the passive-aggressive card—you think one thing but say another, and everyone needs to read between the lines. It has never been my strong suit; I can instantly pick up that behavior in people. It never creates trust. People are not open, lacking confidence; they tend to self-preserve and protect their interests. There is a communication breakdown when there is a lack of trust in church leadership ( again, volunteer or paid). If staff and leaders do not trust each other, that is never good for the church.
Cliques - I hate cliques. I hated them in high school and hated them as an adult. I desperately wanted to be a part of cliques at times, but I was excluded. At other times, I found myself doing the excluding. I am ashamed of my behaviour. But cliques are alive and thriving in churches. Cliques are formed knowingly or unknowingly, often locking out people searching for community or belonging. They create groups of people who can come across as important or have some form of power or influence. I have often dealt with church cliques, which usually start at the top. If church leaders set the tone for creating cliques, they do an excellent job of making those new to the church feel unwelcome.
When church leaders and staff are part of the clique problem, it is tough for a member to serve in any leadership capacity. They can serve as long as they don’t try to influence or challenge the leadership in any way. Staff cliques can be good—staff work together and form friendships, which is excellent, but when they become a faction of sorts, where critique, advice, or any input by lay members is challenged, it’s time to take a good, hard look.
It can be heartbreaking when members form cliques that also include their children. New students find it very hard to break into these existing groups, where everyone has a similar background and way of life. Teenagers already feel awkward trying to fit in and don’t need the added pressure of an unwelcoming group.
Lack of Passion - As someone who spent many years in an immigrant church, I know there have been seasons when groups of us have rushed into meetings brimming with ideas. But there have also been seasons when I have sat in meetings, present only in body & absent in mind & heart. It happens to all of us in ministry. There are seasons when we are mentally exhausted, and the right thing to do is to step back. We need time and space to restore not just our bodies but also our souls.
However, a lack of passion can also happen when someone feels unheard. If their ideas are constantly rejected and there is a lack of open communication between team members and leaders, or constant criticism, negative feedback it can be very challenging to find the passion to serve. Of course, we are serving God, but we are working with people, and there needs to be a safe space where one can use their voice. If we only ever follow the ideas and suggestions of one person and there is no group effort or the opportunity to contribute, it can be disheartening. Church leaders need to make sure their staff and volunteers don’t just sit nodding their heads at meetings but also contribute. If everyone at the table is only playing flunkey to the pastor in charge, there is a problem with the church's culture!
Lack of Healthy Conflict - conflict happens! If we sit around thinking we will hold hands and sing Kumbayah at every meeting, we are seriously mistaken! But we need spaces for healthy conflict. Churches need a culture where ideas and opinions can be shared, concerns heard, and people feel comfortable speaking up. There needs to be space for healthy discussions and learning from each other.
Not listening to the Lay - many modern churches are run like corporates. The Elder boards and Executive pastoral teams are the ones who run the church while they also play gatekeeper to the Senior Pastor. Very few Senior pastors can make decisions unless the board and pastors approve. So, one can be a church member, sit through general meetings, mid-year updates, and reviews, and even take yearly surveys but still feel that no one has heard tIt's
It’s easier to be heard in small community churches, but it gets complicated if you are part of a larger congregation. To get pastors to talk, to be able to contribute or have influence in the church, and to get into the inner circle is next to impossible. Church leadership guards their inner circle very protectively. Sometimes, it can feel like a corporate game. You have to know the right people, perhaps make generous financial donations or volunteer regularly to have leaders take notice of you. And, perchance, if you happen to be a person of influence, they will take notice and start listening. But more often than not, church leaders don’t listen to everyone in the congregation. The bigger the church, the more levels of staff leadership, and you may never get an audience with the senior pastoral staff. But other times, you might get one, and the conversation will leave you feeling hopeful, validated, and loved, but nothing will have changed at the end of the day.
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Despite the challenges of navigating church dynamics, I remain hopeful. I love the church and I have hope not just for the local church but also the global church. Dr.Malcolm Foley of Baylor University says, “as people who believe in the death and resurrection of Christ we do not have the luxury of being hopeless.”
Our adoption into Christ’s family and being a part of His church is more than being a part of a social institution; it is a journey marked by both joy and tribulation. I have experienced church hurt. It has marked, scarred, challenged and broken me. But I still love the church. I do not place my hope in people who make up the church- we are a fallen world and we will make mistakes. But I do believe in a God who loves every one of us and that gives me hope.
While church hurt may obscure our perception of God's love, we must remember that our Heavenly Father tenderly cares for us amidst our struggles. Though the path forward may be uncertain, we can find solace in placing our trust in God, who offers healing, restoration, and enduring hope.
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Photo by Karl Fredrickson on Unsplash
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
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