Leaving the Church You Love
“I think we need to leave. This isn’t healthy.” My matter-of-fact husband spoke the words with ease.
“I think we need to leave. This isn’t healthy.” My matter-of-fact husband spoke the words with ease. He was ready to leave our church, and had been for a year. I, however, clung to what was, what could be, and how things should be with a death grip. I held these dreams close to my chest like my dog holds her bone in her jaw, pacing and whining. This church—these people—were all I had known for the last ten years. How could I leave?
How could I no longer walk into the foyer and see the familiar faces of fellow believers I’d learned so much about—her battle with cancer, their kids' graduation, his ongoing health concerns. For most of my Christian walk I had sat in pews next to these faces and listened to their stories. They were the ones who watched me grow up in the faith, watched me fall in love, and attended our wedding. They bore witness to our grief over the babies we had lost as well as our joy when we finally held one of our children in our arms.
It took me another year and a half of wrestling, tears, arguments, and prayer to arrive at the same conclusion as my husband. When I was finally ready, I felt both grief and peace. I was resolved; we made the right decision. Our reasons for leaving were solid, though few reasons were considered acceptable in that environment. Still, the unknowns of our future felt daunting. I stood in a valley staring up at an unclimbable mountain of heartbreak and fear. I knew that the next few months would be painful, even if necessary. I knew it would be messy, that false motives would be assumed, and that friendships I’d adored would soon fizzle out into mere acquaintances at best.
There’s a distinct kind of loss when you have to walk away from a church you love. The reasons can range from a change in theology, to relocating, to even painful realities like spiritual abuse. But sadness is the common thread no matter what the reason for leaving might be.
Another common emotion we experience in losing a church family is fear. We fear that we won’t connect with another body of believers who love us or that we’ll be forced to compromise theologically. We worry about our relationships that might suffer or the friends who might cut us out of their lives all together. Many who have been wounded carry heavy, fearsome burdens like a backpack full of bricks. What if a pastor hurts me at a new church too? What if my vulnerability is used against me like ammo? I can’t bear another church split.
More than anything, we fear we will wander forever—that we will never find our new church home. Some find a new church quickly while for others it feels like an eternity before they find themselves saying “this is the one”. We might wonder How long is too long? When should we “settle” theologically? What is this doing to our children?
It’s a scary step of obedience to listen to the Spirit’s prompting when he’s calling you to move on, especially when you genuinely love your church—when you desperately wish things had turned out differently.
Just over a year after leaving the church we loved, we settled at a new church. It was a long, trying, rip-your-hair-out journey to get there. When we became members the relief was tangible. We can breathe. Yet, as much as we love our new church home, it isn’t our ultimate home, but a mere shadow of a future dwelling place.
Sometimes local churches get a bit too caught up in themselves and forget that each church is only a tiny slice of the Kingdom. We won’t be in our own little special churches in heaven; we will be together with the whole Church. We are all one in Christ. No matter how much we love our church, there is something better to come.
In the new heaven and new earth there will be no fallouts, abuse, or sin. We will never have to leave a church over theological disputes or spiritual abuse or even location change. We will all worship our Savior together standing side by side, even with those from the church we loved but had to leave.
There is great hope in this truth, such sweet restoration. If you’re in the process of leaving a church you love, take this with you as you go.
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Left a congregation in 2010 after a prolonged disagreement on how leaders should address divisiveness in the body.
I was an Elder and so knew immediately when leaving was imminent. My name became anathema within the congregation with just a few “supporters” contacting me after we left.
My wife worked in the church office—for the senior pastor—and the break was difficult and devastating for her (she remained in her job for six months after we were no longer attending).
This episode forever changed my view of church and leaders in particular. Had I been a few years younger in my faith, I might have been one who wrote-off “christianity” for good.
With so many years gone by, there were good lessons to learn about what happened. I had to shoulder more of my responsibility for the departure and slowly forgive those I viewed quite harshly at the time.
Even that process has been difficult because I vehemently disagree with the leadership position in the matter even today.
I believe you could refer to me as one who enters the church doors with eyes wide open at this point in my walk.
Great article.
Well, I was right to think I'd feel a lot of things with this piece! Our final Sunday in our long-time church was in Oct. 2017. It was a huge blow. We've been at our current church for two years and we still can't bring ourselves to become members. And even after all this time and all the awfulness...I STILL LOVE OUR FORMER CHURCH!