Teal was the color of my wake-up call about one unhealthy church
If you’ve ever been a part of an unhealthy church, the realization may unfold for you slowly over time. Or it may happen like a thunderclap in a seemingly-clear summer sky. One of my most memorable wake-up calls came in the form of a single word: teal.
I’d just joined the staff of a nondenominational church.* I was full of happy anticipation about what it would be like to serve God and the congregation alongside the other staff members. Though I didn’t know most of them very well, I welcomed the opportunity to be forged together into a team of friends with the others sitting at the table.
Phil, the church’s executive pastor, welcomed me to the group and then opened the weekly staff meeting with a short prayer, then explained, “Each of us around this table is going to give a number from one to ten that summarizes how you’re doing this week. As a church staff, we really need to be honest with each other, and this number is a shorthand way of expressing it to the group.” Phil went on to explain that our numbers were meant to be a summary about the state of our respective emotional, spiritual and physical well-being that week.
Friendship requires honesty, so even though this numerical rating system seemed like a gross oversimplification, I understood it was meant to offer a one word snapshot that would offer a picture of how each member of the team was faring under the pressures of ministry in a growing church.
I plunged in that first week and tried extracting a digital readout from my life to share after doing a quick assessment of myself: I was excited about my new job, life with our three teenagers was in a period of relative calm, my unpredictable hair looked OK that day. On the other hand, I had a friend who was experiencing the crisis of her young life, and she’d been asking for a lot of time-consuming support from me that week. On the other hand, God was good. On the other hand, I had gas from last night’s chili and this morning’s 3 cups of coffee.
So 8 it was.
Connie, the staff secretary, piped up, “I’m a 10 today.” This pronouncement was delivered with a blinding smile and a girlish giggle. It seemed a little too quick and rehearsed. Sharon, another staffer, caught my eye and shook her head imperceptibly as if to warn me.
Warn me? This was supposed to be a safe place. What on earth would I need to be warned about?
The next week, the meeting started the same way. I tried a new number–a 6– and explained that I felt a bit overwhelmed learning to juggle my new job responsibilities while caring for my home and family. Everyone nodded as if they understood and cared. Around the table we went until we got to Connie. She was a 10 again.
And again the week after that.
Her sister Tammy was also on staff and usually clocked in with a 9.5 or 10.
I quickly learned that it wasn’t safe at all to probe the why behind the numbers we reported. Sharon, apparently tiring of the show each week, decided one meeting to tell the group she was a 2. She went on to explain that she hadn’t been sleeping well, that her teen son had been making some poor decisions recently, and that her husband’s construction work had slowed, so money was tight for them right now. She was immediately subjected to “caring” interrogation from some of those sitting at that table, including syrupy-sweet, thinkly-veiled criticism from Connie and Tammy implying that Sharon was suffering from an obvious lack of trust in God. (Because in Connie and Tammy’s world, if Sharon had trusted God, she’d be sleeping well, her son would be a wholesome specimen of success instead of a part-time roofer who spent too much of his free time drinking, and the entire family would be thriving financially.) The net effect was that Sharon walked out of the meeting with a list of helpful suggestions about how to fix her life so she wouldn’t return as a 2 the following week.
She didn’t. She wouldn’t have dared to be that honest again.
The whole thing felt weirder and weirder with each passing week. I tried talking to Phil on more than one occasion about these dysfunctional dynamics, and he insisted that that this exercise was necessary for team-building. He didn’t see any problem with Connie and Tammy’s answers, and he emphasized how much he valued their family’s hard work and commitment to the church.
I tried giving answers at the staff meeting like “teal” and “I don’t know” only to meet with icy stares from Phil, grumbles from most of the others, and looks of fake concern from Connie and Tammy. Sharon would occasionally catch my eye and grin, but she’d chosen to play their game because she needed the job, giving a pretend score that hovered around 7 most weeks. 7 was good enough to escape the interrogation and spiritual bypassing of the others. I knew that her weekly 7 was a lie from the quiet, closed-door conversations and times of prayer we shared after the staff meetings ended. Most of the others on staff seemed to weigh in with scores ranging from 7 to 9, no matter what was really happening in their lives.
I wondered if I was jealous of the sisters who told us every single week that their lives were free of doubt, struggle, or sorrow. I had to admit that I wished I could pull off that kind of performance every week and have people believe it. Being a 10 took a special kind of Christian chutzpah that I did not, nor would I ever, possess.
You probably already know how this story ends. A person who responded “teal” when asked for a one-to-ten score was obviously not on the same page as those who celebrated religious performance. The faux numbers did indeed offer a snapshot of an unsafe, unhealthy church.
Eventually, I resigned…during a staff meeting.
If you’ve been a part of an unhealthy congregation, did the realization unfold slowly or hit you all at once?
You’re invited!
Living Faith in a Time of Church Shift:
A Downsizing Conversation with Author Michelle Van Loon
Join me for one-hour Zoom conversation at 8 PM (Eastern) on Thursday, August 21st.
Some writers have parties when they launch a new book. My new book is releasing on August 19th and I have a different kind of gathering in mind – and I'd love to have you be a part of it.
Because I wrote Downsizing: Letting Go of Evangelicalism’s Nonessentials to spark thoughtful reflection and conversation about where the Evangelical church has been and where it might be going, I’d love to have you join me on Thursday, August 21st at 8:00 PM Eastern Time via Zoom for a one hour gathering where we’ll share a lively, life-giving, and intimate conversation about a key theme in the book. There is no cost for this event, and you don’t need to have read the book in order to participate. (Of course, I’d be super-grateful if you did order a copy or two!)
We'll focus on recognizing the holy gifts of the spiritual questions, longings, and desires that God has placed in each of our lives – gifts that have led many of us to become a part of a church. Those good gifts can get buried under the debris of spiritual abuse, congregational conflict, church program busywork and burnout. Our longings for purpose and communion with God can get lost in the press of everyday life or smothered by the pain of suffering and loss. We’ll be looking at how we can reclaim those gifts. Those gifts are key to guiding us in a time of church change, shift, and downsizing.
Click the button below to learn more or to register.
It’s less than two weeks away from the release of Downsizing. This interview with the book’s publisher, Eerdmans, offers you a good look at why I wrote Downsizing, and a couple of fun facts about me, including an unwelcome superpower I possess. Click here to check it out.
You can order your copy from your favorite bookseller. Makes a great personal read, and with the reflection questions I include at the end of each chapter, would make a great read for a book group or church staff who maybe aren’t always 10’s.
* This account was adapted from here.
Photo by Diogo Brandao on Unsplash
My prayer for you from Jude 20-21:”But you, dear friends, carefully build yourselves up in this most holy faith by praying in the Holy Spirit, staying right at the center of God’s love, keeping your arms open and outstretched, ready for the mercy of our Master, Jesus Christ. This is the unending life, the real life!” (MSG)
This was not a church congregation, but a book club that I think functioned as the equivalent of a church for a couple of the members (a married couple). This was a group where all members were encouraged to suggest material and lead discussions, yet this couple was taking over leadership of the group to the point of sometimes leading 70% of the discussions in one year. I was close friends with the wife so I approached her and suggested we might benefit from more varied leadership; she was extremely offended and defensive. Over time I began to see how this couple set themselves up as being further along the spiritual path, how they had done "years of inner work" and taken a lengthy "healing journey" that the rest of us could not match. They were highly gifted yet deeply wounded people for whom the group functioned as (1) a "container" (the wife's words, in a memoir she wrote) for the inspiring content that they needed in order to keep going; and (2) a means for them to have the platform they felt entitled to by their superior spiritual status. My close friendship with the wife was eventually completely shattered -- but the process of actually realizing what was going on and how dysfunctional it was took years for me. My tendency to "go along to get along," my loyal-to-a-fault personality, all contributed to that, I think. So I appreciate you talking about how these realizations can unfold slowly. It's not always a sudden epiphany.
I've never been an official staff member at a church, but I've experienced the dynamics that come with unhealthy leaders of ministries where I volunteered. I was assigned to read the book The Bait of Satan (one of the most spiritually abusive books I've read) at one point, and had prayers and devotionals weaponized against me. It was a slow realization for me. Once I saw it, I couldn't unsee it. I was always "in trouble" as a grown adult woman with our women's ministry leader. I feel anxious just thinking about her.