About nine months ago, I stopped going to church. It has been the longest time in my life without some kind of faith community. Why did I stop? My honest answer is that it has been an accumulation of many things over the years, culminating in my decision not only to leave the so-called “organized church” but also to question some long-held beliefs and do some thorough study and research into the places my questions are taking me.
For several years now, I have seen a growing distance between what I believe and what people who call themselves “Christians” believe. It has now become such a large distance that I can no longer recognize Jesus in the so-called Christian church anymore. I have also awakened to the reality that I can no longer be the person that I am in any Christian church. I sensed that I was compromising my personal integrity by continuing to sit in church services that were exclusive, judgmental, and presenting uninvestigated, out-of-context claims and statements as being truth. It became emotionally and physically exhausting for me to attend church, mainly because I felt anguished and conflicted every time I attended. So one day in September 2022, I just stopped going.
My sense of unease really began in childhood. I was raised in the Catholic Church and attended Catholic school through the sixth grade. There were many things I did not agree with and questioned during my Catholic childhood that caused me to seek another spiritual home as a young adult, and I landed in the Evangelical Covenant Church. For many years, that seemed a more positive choice. They helped me through the death of my husband and provided a community of support I very much needed. I volunteered with the youth ministry and watched it grow into a thriving group of young people. With the encouragement of my pastor and his wife, I decided to attend seminary. What I did not know and was not prepared for was the discrimination I would face as a woman trying to enter ministry in an evangelical church. The entire four years of seminary I experienced the pain of discrimination and judgment just because of my gender. As a woman, I could do very little with a master of divinity degree, so I worked as a hospital chaplain while I returned to graduate school for a second master’s degree in psychology.
The pain and questions continued as the normally two-year process of ordination took seven years for me as a female. During that time, I was subjected to all kinds of rejection, but I persevered, thinking that somehow things would eventually change. I had to move around frequently to find work, and finally I gave up working in the ministry and dedicated myself full time to my work as a therapist/psychologist, mainly in the addictions field. Occasionally, I still worked in churches part time but was focused on counseling.
Then came 2016, which became—to steal the late Queen Elizabeth II’s characterization—my “annus horribilis.” That year, my father died, Donald Trump became president of the United States, and I lost my job at a church that I thought was probably the best one of which I had ever been a part. When my father died, he disinherited me. His main reason was religion. He was a devout Catholic. In becoming a Protestant pastor, I had committed the unforgiveable “sin.” I asked myself, “What kind of faith would disinherit a daughter over her choosing a different church? Where was Jesus in that?” Then came the election of Trump, and every evangelical Christian I knew was in full support of this man, whose racism, sexism, and idolatry of world dictators, as well as his entire personal and professional history, were contrary to anything taught by Jesus. Why were so-called “Christians” selling out to this man? Then the ultimate blow came at the end of that year when the church at which I was working decided to lay off the entire staff because their “giving” was down. What kind of church would do that to hard-working people … and over money?
From that year, I renounced the designation of “Christian” and began to seriously reflect on several painful realities that were contrary to all that I understood about Jesus and his mission and message.
The first reality I observed was that in a culture and economy that operates on acquiring and consuming, it is nearly impossible to convince Christians to “deny themselves,” yet that is exactly what Jesus taught. And when one adds to that the entanglement with American nationalism and exceptionalism, the result is a toxic stew in which Christians in the “name of Jesus” stormed the U.S. Capitol toting AR-15s and, in an act of insurrection, tried to demand “their way.” Jesus said, “take up the cross” not the “AR-15.”
The second reality I noted was the hate speech Christians invoked to villainize anyone who did not embrace Republicanism as a political ideology. They nurtured and fed the extreme political polarization that now characterizes American politics and in so doing created a monster that has consumed the Congress, making it nearly impossible to pass legislation or have bipartisan cooperation about any government business. This hatred and polarization was and still is the breeding ground for countless conspiracy theories (which many Christians believe and spread), of which QAnon is one putrid example.
The third reality I witnessed was Christians presenting as definitive, provable fact interpretations and theories about the “end-times” or eschatology. The biblical books of Daniel and Revelation were often used, as well as other selected passages cherry-picked from various places in the Bible. These books and passages were not written as prophecy to be literally interpreted. They are a type of literature called “apocalyptic literature,” written during a time of great suffering and difficulty to give expression to the angst of the people and to give them hope for future healing and resolution of suffering. However, the evangelical Christian church takes any tragedy, global event, or natural disaster and tries to connect some biblical verse to it to fit it into their end-times, scare-tactics scenario that the “end” is coming. It reminds me of those “choose-your-own-adventure” books my son used to read when he was a boy, where the reader takes a scenario he/she likes and connects it to other possible plot directions he/she likes and a possible ending, and then the reader “chooses his/her own adventure.” One problem, though: the Bible is not a “choose-your-own-adventure” book, yet Christians treat it that way for their convenience and ultimately at their peril.
The fourth reality I have seen is what I will call “the death of objectivity.” American evangelical Christianity has become so arrogantly committed to the accuracy of their interpretations and perspectives that they dismiss any objectivity outright as secular, lacking in faith, or as “fake news.” Yet they buy into all the actual fake news put out by those who subscribe to their viewpoint and interpretations (for example, fake news from QAnon and anti-vaxxers and fake news about Antifa and the “Deep State”).
These four realities have led me to four conclusions that will be shocking to Christians who are attached to the church in its present form in our society. My first conclusion is Jesus’s message was not about salvation. Jesus’s mission was not to “save the world” or “save souls.” He didn’t save himself from death, or save the thieves crucified next to him, save any of his disciples, or save any of the rest of us. We all get to die. There is no avoiding that. Salvation is certainly one part of the gospel message, but it is not some ticket you punch to assure your entrance into Heaven and immortality. It is a present-tense ongoing experience in life right now. In his letter to the Philippians (2:12), Paul tells his readers to work out their own salvation and do so with fear and trembling. And Jesus never mentions salvation. What he does mention several times is discipleship and “making disciples.” That is the mission and the message. Discipleship means do it, not just believe it.
My second conclusion is the church in its present format should be eliminated. In other words, no more worship services, no more professional ministry, no more physical and monetary assets, no more tax-exempt status. God doesn’t need our worship. The supreme being is not the “supreme narcissist.” The supreme being is love. The church doesn’t need professional ministers either. More often than not, people set up a cult of personality around them. They become another form of idolatry and not just for the congregation. The pastor is chasing all the ego-bolstering activities inherent in the role of pastor, not to mention a whole host of performance-based activities that have nothing to do with Jesus’s message and ministry. And while we’re at it, the church buildings aren’t needed either. Those buildings need to be given to community groups who really need them. People must live the values that Jesus taught and offer those church spaces to the mentally ill, the homeless, children, and seniors who need places to belong. And tax-exempt status? Why should the church be exempt from paying taxes? Even Jesus paid taxes. What are churches saying to society when they aren’t willing to pay for the government services they receive and yet preach to people to be honest and “pay their taxes”?
My third conclusion is the complete separation of church and state needs to be maintained. This whole Christian nationalism thing must go! Those who claim to be people of faith need to remember that the government and its politicians are not interested in their priorities. The “state” only wants to exploit their faith to maintain its power. When churches begin to identify with one political party or viewpoint, they are doing the very thing the government and politicians are doing in reverse: exploiting the government’s power to further their own agenda. Christianity has spent most of its history embracing the systems that Jesus decried. Christians appear to be all-in on capitalism, free market economics, and empire-building yet are blind to how those systems funnel finances away from the poor and create a wider gap between the rich and the poor. Jesus didn’t ask people to support systems; he asked them to care for those who are marginalized and standing outside those systems. We are here to love and care for people, not prop up the institutions they create, including the institution of the church.
My fourth conclusion is we need to return to objectivity and critical thinking. People need to gather but not for worship. They should gather for study and investigation and for asking questions but not necessarily answering them. People need to engage in researching and investigating what they claim to believe. They need to call out every conspiracy theory that threatens objective, critical thinking and quit using them to feed and spread fears. They need to do their homework and ask the questions and challenge the false beliefs and teachings that have nearly taken over Christianity in the twenty-first century. Christians are admonished not to be exclusive in their treatment of one another, yet they are exclusive in their adherence to beliefs that end up mistreating and putting down those who don’t think and believe like they do. They need to listen to science and stop denying climate change or the efficacy of vaccines for providing disease immunity. And they need to stop “hating on” those who think differently than they do politically, emotionally, culturally, and, yes, even and especially religiously.
These are radical, countercultural, and revolutionary changes I am proposing. But Jesus was revolutionary and countercultural, and sadly American evangelicalism has turned Jesus into part of conventional culture. The reality is that Jesus asked hundreds of questions and gave few answers. He modeled a questioning and open mind. He was skeptical about keeping the Sabbath, skeptical about Old Testament Levitical law, skeptical about public piety, and skeptical about the leadership of his own religion. Following his lead, I am discovering anew the questions I have always had and am asking them again. And this time, I’m investigating where those questions lead. For example, the Bible says that after six days of marching around Jericho, on the seventh day the Israelite people then blew their rams’ horns and shouted a great shout and the walls of the city fell. I want to investigate the physics of the situation. Can 40,000 armed men and another few thousand priests and musicians march around the city once a day for six days and then on the seventh day blow those rams’ horns, let out a great shout, and cause those walls to fall? Why did Jesus really speak in parables? Was there really an earthquake when Jesus died, and did the temple curtain really tear at that moment? My inquiring mind wants to know and is trying to research and learn more every day.
Nine months ago, I left behind the shackles of an old life and embarked on a new journey into the questions that have always lived inside me, into an open skepticism that is taking me into all kinds of new learning and new understanding about God and the Bible, about faith and life. Many Christians are fond of talking about their “born again” experience. For me, these past nine months have been my gestation period and have resulted in my new birth. They have given me a new courage to put into words those unspoken thoughts that lived in my inner fearfulness for so long and move forward asking my questions, acknowledging my doubts, and studying the possibilities that result. This exciting journey continues.
About nine months ago, I stopped going to church. It has been the longest time in my life without some kind of faith community. Why did I stop? My honest answer is that it has been an accumulation of many things over the years, culminating in my decision not only to leave the so-called “organized …