A few months ago Sandy and I made the painful decision to leave the church that we had been part of for over 20 years. It was a decision we agonized over for a couple of years. In some ways we were absent long before we physically left, but walking away on that last Sunday, knowing we wouldn’t be back, was still difficult. It was, after all, the church where we raised and baptized our two children. It was the church where we served in many leadership roles. It was the church where I saw my middle school students. It was the church that we had poured ourselves into for many, many years. No matter what happens, those roots run deep, and pulling them up does not happen without some pain and mourning.
At some point, however, it became clear that there were some “irreconcilable differences” between us. We were simply wanting the church to move in a direction that was different from the rest of the leadership. That created some practical implications in our lives that were at odds with the church as a whole. Somewhere along the way it became clear to us that we and the leadership of the church were on divergent paths on this journey of faith. As we looked forward, there didn’t seem to be any point in the distance where those paths were likely to come back together. If you are hiking with a friend and you each choose a different route that takes you out of sight of each other, there comes a point where you are no longer actually hiking with your friend, you are hiking alone. That is what it felt like for us. At some point we lost contact and we realized that even though we were sitting in the same building on Sunday, we were actually hiking alone.
At some point, however, it became clear that there were some “irreconcilable differences” between us. We were simply wanting the church to move in a direction that was different from the rest of the leadership. That created some practical implications in our lives that were at odds with the church as a whole. Somewhere along the way it became clear to us that we and the leadership of the church were on divergent paths on this journey of faith. As we looked forward, there didn’t seem to be any point in the distance where those paths were likely to come back together. If you are hiking with a friend and you each choose a different route that takes you out of sight of each other, there comes a point where you are no longer actually hiking with your friend, you are hiking alone. That is what it felt like for us. At some point we lost contact and we realized that even though we were sitting in the same building on Sunday, we were actually hiking alone.
My natural tendency is to point fingers, to find and assign blame. There is, no doubt, things the church leadership could have done different and better, but I must admit there are things we could have done better and different as well. We all make mistakes and we all have faults. No church is perfect, no leadership is blameless and no person within the church ever does everything the “right” way. I have come to believe that no one was ultimately to “blame” for our decision - not us or anyone in church leadership. That doesn’t mean there was total absence of conflict (I wish that were true), it just means that there is not necessarily “fault” that needs to be assigned. It is not a matter of one party being wrong and the other being right, it is simply a matter of seeing the practical reality of our faith and the function of the church differently - and that is okay.
It is not easy, but it is okay.
As we have visited different churches on Sundays since our departure, this has become even more clear to me. Every church has its own style, points of emphasis, targeted demographic, and priorities for their mission. Some churches are focused on their local community with little global focus and some have a vision for trying to be involved with the entire world. Some churches are incredibly energetic and some are much more calm (even energetic and calm take on different forms and styles). Communion is done differently. Preaching is different. Visitors are dealt with differently. Buildings are different. And the list could go on and on, but they are all the church. The truth is, no church has a monopoly on how to do things the “right” way, because there is not one “right” way. I don’t even think there is one correct doctrinal statement (before you hyperventilate, I do believe there are some essentials, but there are many things that are not as “essential” as we sometimes think). Similarly, there is no one “right” way for each of us to live out our faith. That is why the diversity of churches is not only okay, but necessary.
I say all this to simply make the point that I don’t believe we were wrong to leave, and our former church was not at fault for causing us to leave. Stuff happens. People change. Faith takes shape in different ways. If the point of focus is still Jesus Christ, God’s Kingdom, and living out faith in a way that is honoring and glorifying those things, then there are many differences that can be, and should be, considered acceptable and good. In fact we should rejoice in the differences, because it is only in those differences that the vast spectrum of people in this world can be reached and discipled. And isn’t that the end goal of the church to begin with?
So, while I’m sure I could list things the church we left got wrong (and they could do the same about us), making that the focus would cause us both to miss a greater lesson about the diversity and unity of the church. Assigning blame would cause us to miss the whole picture that God’s Kingdom is bigger than me, bigger than a particular group of people, bigger than a certain style or doctrine statement. God is even bigger than our mistakes and faults. He is bigger than divergent paths. Not only is he bigger than all our differences, I believe God enjoys them. He is, after all, the one who created us all to be so different in the first place, so why wouldn’t he rejoice in churches reflecting those differences. And if our changes cause us to grow more aware of him, draw closer to him, and live more fully for him, than why wouldn’t he be pleased with that?
Where this all gets difficult is in the moving from one church to another. There is an unspoken assumption that when someone leaves a church, there must be something wrong. We find it difficult to believe that it might be in another person’s best interest, for their spiritual health and well-being, to be part of a church other than our own. Churches have a tendency to feel threatened by that, rather than taking joy in the fact that others are doing work that they are not. The truth is, however, that no one church can meet all the needs of every individual or help every individual live out their faith in the way that is best for them. And they shouldn’t try.
In every community there are a variety of churches who have a variety of ways in which they worship and live out their faith. If we in fact believe that those in other churches are our brothers and sisters in Christ, we must also believe that those other churches minister to people, and offer opportunities for those people, that our church does not, and we must believe that is okay. If we believe this to be true, we must also accept that there will be times when those who have been part of our church, might actually be able live out their faith better in a different context, not because of right and wrong, but simply because of good and better. If we don’t believe this to be true, we put ourselves in the dangerous place of believing that we are the only possessors of truth and righteousness.
Sandy and I have spent a great deal of time talking, and thinking, and praying about our motives for leaving. We left when we felt complete peace that leaving was the best thing for our spiritual health and even for the spiritual health of the church we departed. When we left, it wasn’t a surprise and we didn’t sneak out the back door. We talked to some of the leaders before our decision and when the time finally came to leave. We did not talk to everyone (that did not seem practical), but to those we did, we left an open invitation for them to tell others to talk to us (which still exists) if they had questions or concerns. We were not entirely sure what to expect afterwards. What we hoped for was some degree of understanding and, ultimately, their best wishes that we would find another place where we could worship, serve and grow, even though it would not be with them, directly, but knowing that it was with them, ultimately.
Now that I am on this side of the process, I wish I would have done that more for those who left before me, whether I agreed with their reasons for leaving or not. I wish I would have been more gracious and inclined to tell them that I genuinely hoped that they would find a place to grow and thrive and serve. That seems like a response that is better than trying to convince people that they should stay. It is a response that speaks to unity in the midst of diversity across congregations and acknowledges that God can, and does, work through our changes and differences. It is a response that humbly admits that we don’t have a monopoly on everything that is “right” in terms of living out our faith. It is the response I hope to have if I find myself in a position of leadership again, facing someone who is telling me they are leaving. If there is a lesson for me in all this, I believe that is it - that I would say in the future, “Go with my blessing and my prayer that you will thrive in God’s love and draw closer to him than you have ever been before.”
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