Have you ever…
experienced a church split?
been in a whistleblower role in a Christian organization?
stopped attending a church due to relational conflict?
departed a congregation due to a leader’s abuse of power?
exited a church due to a theological divide or your own faith shift?
Maybe you left your congregation. Maybe your congregation left you.
If you were involved in the life of your local church, you likely built a network of relationships that gave you an experience of community.. You served, worshipped, learned, and prayed together. Perhaps you weathered a family crisis or celebrated life’s joys with members of this congregation. A challenging exit from a faith community means finding out that many you believed were true friends turned out to be religious coworkers, a few others you thought were faith allies were in fact your enemies, and a small number–perhaps no more than one or two–turn out to be friends who stick with you for the long haul.
Many of us who are relieved to be out of a painful church situation also discover we are grieving lost friendships and a sense of belonging, even a long time after we left. Psychologists call the kind of grief that happens without a clear sense of finality ambiguous loss, and it can be just as devastating as a death. My first experience with a spiritually abusive church leader happened in the mid-1990’s, and even after all this time, I still feel an occasional pang of sorrow over lost relationships that followed our painful and tumultuous exit from that congregation.
My husband and I have experienced a couple of other painful departures from churches since then, each one with its own unique, lonely journey through the valley of the ambiguous shadow. It seems that the more unhealthy the congregation, the more difficult it is to leave well. Those ambiguous losses accumulate for leavers as toxic congregations use shunning, gossip, and closing of the ranks preserve “unity” in toxic faith communities. It takes a secure, stable leadership team and church to offer a liturgy like this to leavers who are willing to participate in a communal farewell. But it is is rare for an unhappy member to be sent from a church with a gracious blessing.
More and more people are leaving their congregations. A generation ago, leavers were often viewed as people with shallow faith and a consumer mentality. Today, that old stereotype has been overwritten with the reality that many deeply committed believers are without a church home. Others may be hanging on to their church commitment by a filament, unsure of what the next step might be if they leave. Doing so is difficult in a different way than leaving is. And there no guarantee you’ll avoid ambiguous loss if you do choose to stay. It can be painful to sit in a congregation that feels like a graveyard of broken relationships.
Stay or go, there are are no handy shortcuts to mute the loud, lonely echo of ambiguous loss. It can be a profound and open-ended experience of grief. Losing friends, fellowship, and trust in the institution of church has changed me and shifted the trajectory of my life with God. I have long carried a fear of abandonment, and these experiences have demanded that I face that fear head on.
I also discovered that my hurt and sadness created fertile ground in which festering bitterness could flourish. Forgiveness was (and is) a daily project that could only happen when I was willing to voice my hurt, confusion, and disappointment to God, to a couple of trusted friends, and at one point, to a counselor. I continue to pull weeds in companionship with an experienced spiritual director and conversation with a long-time prayer partner. .
I began to discover why Jesus emphasized both receiving and giving forgiveness in the prayer he gave to his disciples in Matthew 6:9-15. Henri Nouwen said, “Forgiveness is the name of love practiced among people who love poorly.” Those who’ve cancelled me have loved poorly. And I have loved poorly, too.
If you know someone who has left a church, ask God to help you be a compassionate presence in their lives. They don’t need a sermon or a scolding (complete with a reference to Hebrews 10:24-25). They need a friend.
And if you’ve left a church and are navigating ambiguous loss, I’d be honored to pray for you. Click here to shoot me a message if you so desire.
You are not alone.
A little bit of conversation
I hear voices in my head. Actually, I think a lot of writers do.
In my case, those voices are the conversations I am having with readers about faith and formation. The questions I hear in those conversations spur my curiosity. Curiosity spurs research, research invites debate, and debate sharpens my thinking. Click here to learn more about the books and articles I’ve written, plus podcasts on which I’ve been a guest. (It’s a gift to be able to have actual conversations instead of imaginary ones!)
Click here if you’re in search of a speaker for an event or retreat at your church. I cherish being able to explore a topic or theme in the company of other seekers.
Fill in the blanks, January 2024 version
How would you fill in these blanks?
What I’ve been reading: _______
My answer: How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen by David Brooks. I’ve liked this discussion about being present with others so much I’ve already purchased another copy as a gift for someone else–and I haven’t finished reading the book yet!
What I’ve been eating : _______
My answer: A restaurant connected with Miami’s storied, now-defunct Rascal House deli recently opened in Sarasota. I visited the Miami Rascal House with my dad shortly before he died 25 years ago. A bowl of matzo ball soup and a hot corned beef on rye may not be heart-healthy, but they are balm for my soul.
What I am most anxious about in 2024: _______
My answer: The rise in antisemitism. It’s always been there, of course, lurking about 3.5 millimeters below the surface of things, and making regular appearances here, there, and everywhere. But October 7th ripped even that thin veneer away.
What has delighted me recently: _______
My answer: Florida’s winter weather. Even with a recent string of chilly days, there are no snow shovels required here.
My prayer for you, adapted from the wise words of poet John O’Donohue: May you live this day compassionate of heart, clear in word, gracious in awareness, courageous in thought, and generous in love.
Shalom.
Photos by Debby Hudson, Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash.