IN THE CHURCH, BUT NOT OF THE CHURCH (III)

So a couple of the questions we must ask are: who is leaving, and why?

Given that church goers are an ageing demographic, some of the decline is not a result of people leaving the church, but leaving the planet. Death is eroding our membership figures. This naturally raises questions of why our natural population growth rate (the rate at which births exceed deaths) is not more than adequately compensating, and suggests a church that has been unable to adjust to the changing demands of our time. 

It seems as though leavers fall into three key categories.

The focus of our last couple of blogs has been on this third category, so let’s explore it a little further. These people are often those whose faith remains, but who choose to be churchless not as a result of a painful experience (although that may be the case), but more from a tiredness or exasperation with the church and its politics and what they often perceive as the ghetto of church life. 

Some say the church is essentially not a spiritual community, and that it is more concerned with propping up its own structures and rights than with deepening the faith of those who attend. Put differently, the church is on the side of the church, not on the side of those who look to it for nurture and growth. This is often only spotted in a crisis - when people who once served the church find they are quietly dropped when they face a challenge of their own, especially if it is an uncomfortable one. For example, one woman told me that it was when she realised the church viewed her as a problem after the birth of her child with special needs (the lad was a little disruptive in services), that she saw the relationship as one way: “They were happy for my contribution when I could make it, not happy when I was the one who needed help.” In fairness, I have met many whose experiences have been different (“they were wonderful during my time of crisis”) - but let me report it as I was told. And in this case, it was undoubtedly true.

More commonly I have heard people lament the lack of genuine conversations about topics that are complex, but which count. I have heard many express frustration that the leadership of their church assumes they know what their attitude will be to matters such as euthanasia, gender, same sex marriage, climate change, politics, artificial intelligence and a range of topics on which proclamations are made without any genuine discussion with the congregation. As someone said (this is a paraphrase, I don’t remember the exact words): “It is as though groupthink is the only option. We can’t explore alternatives lest we upset someone, but the overall result is that we dance around one another and never say what we really think, or listen to alternative viewpoints. I land up not being honest about what I feel - but that isn’t really my fault. I know people would feel uncomfortable if I was, so pretending to agree or saying nothing are the only options… it really annoys me.” 

For yet others, it is that their understanding of faith is different. To paraphrase again: “I have my whole life ahead of me and am really excited about both the opportunities and challenges of the future. But the church I was part of was negative about everything new. I concluded that it wasn’t the new thing they were against - just that it was new. They were inherently conservative and wanted things to stay as they were in the past. But I believe in a God who makes all things new and continues to shape and transform the world. I don’t see how you can equate God with the status quo, but that is what most of the folk at the church I attended did - so now I have stopped going. It was just too depressing to be surrounded by people who knew what they were against, but had no idea what they were for.”

Importantly, each of these people continues to follow Jesus as faithfully as they can. They pray, give to causes they consider worthy, study scripture and hold serious discussions with friends. They try to live with integrity and kindness. They just haven’t found a church community they feel they can do the journey with. In the early stages they would have corrected me and said, “we haven’t found a church community yet.” That’s changed, the “yet” quietly dropped. Which means they now have a churchless faith.

What do you think? Are these sad but rare events, or is this something to think about more carefully? What should our takeaway be? Is it the start of God birthing something new?