Let's Get Over Ourselves

“…being eager to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. Ephesians 4:3”

Somewhere in late November or early December the first snowflakes of the season fell upon the slopes of the Cascades. Over the winter, flake upon flake pile up, eventually carpeting the bare ground with several inches of white powder. Barring an unusual thaw, the first flake that touched ground will stay frozen, connected in crystal formation to all the subsequent bits of snow. Each snowflake can range from less than a millimeter in diameter to nearly two or three inches. Even the largest, by itself, would produce little of value.

But, as Vance Havner is quoted as saying, “Snowflakes are frail, but if enough of them get together they can stop traffic.” Maybe you have personal experience in the power of piled up snowflakes. Have you shoveled the driveway from six foot drifts just to get your car out of the garage? Or perhaps you traveled the back roads and, as the snow flew, you felt your tires being grabbed by snow up to the running boards.

It is easy, even as a follower of Jesus, to think there is little we can accomplish. I have been on staff or been senior pastor at ten different churches over my career in ministry. The most people attending any single service of a church I have pastored is about 200. The average attendance over the years is probably between 50 or 60. Though raised in the city; Los Angeles and the San Francisco East Bay, I have pastored only rural churches. I know minister in a village of some 600 people in a county with a population of just under 4,000.

Small churches in small towns and villages feel it deeply when division occurs. In large cities, or churches with attendance nearing the 1000 level, division is still painful, of course. But, there are still people “out there”. Framing it with a marketing mindset, you can still sell to the hundreds of thousands of customers who are still in your city. But, let one strong family walk away in a rural church, and it can be a significant hit, especially if they were strongly involved in ministry.

I’ve been thinking recently about how our church culture handles people who leave. A family attends fairly regularly for a while. Then they may taper off a bit, and, after two months of Sundays, you realize you haven’t seen them in several weeks. It is extremely rare that such a family talks to the pastor and says, “We’ve been thinking about no longer attending your church.” I have had people angrily tell me, “I’m gone!” But I cannot think of one instance where someone said, “I would just like to talk to you about why you won’t be seeing us.”

Interestingly, though the pastor may be clueless, the friends that family made in that church have probably already heard why they left. Remember, these people have relationships outside the church walls as well, especially in small towns and rural settings.

Don is having coffee downtown and Fred walks in. Fred used be in church almost every Sunday, but now hasn’t been seen for four months or so. “Fred, good to see you. Wow, we’ve missed you at church.” “I know,” Fred replies, “I guess we’re looking around a bit.” And then comes the bomb: “Oh, what happened?” Fred has to give a viable reason. You know the standard ones: “We aren’t being fed, the pastor doesn’t visit enough, the pastor is always coming by, the music is too loud, I heard one of the leaders had champagne at a wedding, I heard the pastor misspeak about something, and I can’t go to a liar’s church.” I began to daydream. Consider this.

Whatever reason someone gives for leaving, what if the pastor, or a leadership team makes a friendly visit with the family who has absented themselves. And, instead of prying for reasons, trying to persuade them to return, defending the church or the pastor, what if they simply accepted the fact this family was leaving.

I imagine myself saying: “You know, Fred, I am so sad to see you go. I had just begun getting to know you and your wife, and was looking forward to knowing you better. I want to offer my apologies if I myself, or anyone in our church has offended you. I hope you will come to me if that is the case, relationships are important to us. But, I’m not here to persuade you to stay. Instead, since I understand you have made your decision to go elsewhere, we want to say goodbye. When my son left for college, we gave him a party. Well, whatever the reasons are, you are leaving our little family here at Rural Life Wheatfield Church, and we want to say goodbye as well. Will you join us this Sunday, and let us say goodbye?”

I have no idea how people would respond, or whether they would come to that “goodbye” service. But, I hope they would. I have persuaded people to “come back”, and they usually stayed a while, then got itchy feet again. It is ok if people want to leave. The church belongs to Christ, not to any one of us. (Now, I am absolutely human enough to admit, it hurts deeply when people walk away, very deeply. Pastors have egos, and they are tied pretty strongly to the “health” of their local congregation.)

But think, now if someone asks Fred, “Hey Why aren’t you going to RLWC anymore?” He is more apt to be positive, even if he didn’t accept the invitation to “say goodbye.” This is meant to be thought of as a very sincere response, not a psychological bit of righteous one-upmanship. If we offer a “goodbye” service as a way to show we are more righteous than they, we’ve missed the point altogether.

Every church I have ever pastored is either the result of a split, has had others split off of it, or has a hub of people who left another church to “get fed here.” If we are sincerely “eager to keep the unity of the Spirit” we will stop being afraid when people leave. Maturity in Christ demands that we do not get our noses bent out of shape. Making every step to reach out to those who leave, we at least model that we are interested in “the bond of peace.”

This is entirely different than what happens when you run into that person who left a few years later at some function. Nothing has been resolved. No one has said loving words, or acted in an encouraging or brotherly way. Time does not heal wounds; commitment to the sort of unity the Spirit gives us does.

If you are thinking of leaving a church or group, give it very hard thought and prayer. You wouldn’t just walk out on Thanksgiving dinner because uncle told a story you didn’t like. Family is family, and you work those things out. At least healthy families do. Do the loving and right thing; work it out…don’t separate.

If you have left a church and have never gone back and made it right with the leadership; do it. It doesn’t matter if it was two weeks ago or 10 years ago. Your step of loving the “unity of the Spirit” will resonate deeply. Apologize for not communicating, for acting as if you were the righteous one, for treating one church as if it were beneath your spiritual status.

If you are a leader who has had people leave; get over yourself. I mean it. Because that is what I have to tell myself. Do I really think that I am so charismatic, so spiritually magnetic, that no one will ever have a reason to leave my ministry? You will sleep so much better if you let Father God take care of your ego-needs, and you just serve at His behest. And, as you have the opportunity, reach out to those who have left, not in an attempt to get them to return. Let them know that you believe, even though they don’t worship in you building, you are still one.

After all, we are going to sit next to each other at the marriage supper of the Lamb. I hope I get to sit next to at least one person who left me, or who I left behind. But, even more so, I hope I can work through those issues, as much as is possible, before we get to the table.

The real question is: Truly, how eager are we to keep the unity of the Spirit?