Part 2: Scattered Sheep

There is a significant scattering that is happening within the evangelical church.  In the last 5 years, I’ve heard more friends, colleagues, and clients, who were more than just casual church attenders, tell me that they are no longer going to church.  I’ve seen a quantifiable uptick in clients who are working through significant church hurt and are wondering how they can stay in, or find their way back to, church.  “Obviously, people don’t come to counseling because they feel good,” I thought, so maybe the anecdotal evidence I had for this scattering is biased.  “Maybe out in the wild, this trend that I’m seeing isn’t real.”  But, it seems that what I’ve noticed anecdotally IS playing out in statistically verifiable ways.  In “The Great Dechurching,” Jim Davis and Michael Graham (The program director for the Tim Keller Center for Apologetics), write:

What we have witnessed in the last twenty-five years is a religious shift about 1.25 times larger but going in the opposite direction. In that time, about 40 million people have stopped attending church. More people have left the church in the last twenty-five years than all the new people who became Christians from the First Great Awakening, Second Great Awakening, and Billy Graham crusades combined. Adding to the alarm is the fact that this phenomenon has rapidly increased since the mid-1990s. – Davis, Jim; Graham, Michael; Burge, Ryan P.. The Great Dechurching: Who’s Leaving, Why Are They Going, and What Will It Take to Bring Them Back? (p. 5). Zondervan. Kindle Edition

This scattering is statistically apparent, and it is speeding up.  The reasons behind dechurching are myriad, but Davis and Graham do point out a statistically relevant relational component to why many leave (“Not fitting in,” “Not feeling love from the congregation,” “Negative experiences with Evangelicals”).  I offer my story as an example of how these relational dynamics impact congregants and leaders in the church, how they lead to the decision to leave church.   And I hope to offer some comfort for those of us who are still very much ambivalent about not participating in church life.       

I never imagined not being part of a church.  

I started leading Bible studies in 1997 with the organization formerly known as Campus Crusade for Christ.  I went to seminary for a Masters of Divinity and a Masters in Counseling because I loved exploring the intersection of psychology and theology.  I’ve served in a professional capacity in 2 PCA (Presbyterian Church in America) churches since 2000, leading tween ministry, leading worship, and co-directing a counseling ministry.  I’ve loved the church and loved caring for people through the church my whole adult life and took for granted that I would serve in some capacity in the church for the rest of my adult life.  It wasn’t until I became an elder, when I saw behind the curtain into how some pastors speak to each other, how they treat those with whom they differ, and how these harsh words and actions went unchecked and undisciplined, that I began to question whether I would be able to stay in relationship with the church as long as it functioned this way.

My first indication that things were not okay within the PCA was when I joined the private Facebook page for pastors and elders.  The debate around sexuality had newly erupted, and I’d hoped that my theological training, professional work, and personal experience might afford me a position to speak from and move the conversation toward compassion, understanding and wisdom.  It did not.  What I saw, instead, was a fruitless back-and-forth, that would often devolve into disrespect and dismissiveness.  Though moderators tried to keep the conversation civil (the very fact that a group of Christian elders would even need moderating in order to stay civil is an indictment in and of itself) it would still often spiral into name-calling, contemptuous remarks, and questioning of orthodoxy.  

I was assured that what I saw in this Facebook group was not the real PCA.  The real PCA was gracious, understanding and humane.  So, I held on.  I tried to decrease my activity in that group.  This was a scary prospect in and of itself.  Now that I knew how men like me were spoken of, I felt like I was abandoning my post if I didn’t give some kind of explanation for why we were not the wolves that we were accused of being.  But, I tried to do as others were telling me, and focus on the local church.  

Within a few months, this became an untenable position as our next denominational assembly was going to take up the issue of whether men like me, who experience persistent same sex attraction, but are either celibate or married to women, and speak about their orientation as a fixed experience that God is choosing not to change, are fit to be ordained as elders.  I could no longer keep my attention local, as the broader denomination was now voting on whether I was fit to serve.  I held out hope that what I saw in the Facebook group was not indicative of the broader PCA, but when it came time to vote on these measures, it became clear that I was in the minority.  Nearly ⅔  of the voting members at the assembly thought I should not serve the church in this capacity.

The next year was spent waiting to see how much of the denomination agreed with how the assembly voted.  For the overture to succeed, 66% of church sessions (boards of elders) needed to agree with the assembly’s vote.  As it turns out, nearly 60% of the sessions agreed with the assembly that men like me should not be allowed to serve.  While coming just short of the votes they needed to push the overture through, the numbers made it clear: the PCA that I saw on theFacebook page was, in fact, the real PCA.  It may not be ALL of the PCA, but it was a very real majority of the denomination.  

But, still, I held on.  This was my home.  I held on through another year, and another set of overtures intending to tell me who I was, and label my internal workings, and render a verdict on the reality of my sanctification.  

It was another year of being spoken about, but never spoken to.  Another year of feeling powerless and unprotected.  But, there was a significant change in the atmosphere of the denomination.  Doxing websites began to pop up letting churches and presbyteries know who had voted against these overtures, so they could question thoroughly any potential pastoral candidate who wished these measures not to pass.  Non-profit organizations sprung up to raise money to make sure the “right” elders made it to the voting floor to push these overtures through.  And a “see something, say something” campaign began in the denomination.  Congregants were encouraged to report anything their pastor or elders said that pertained to this issue that might warrant investigation.   

As the scrutiny and suspicion ramped up, I began to have panic attacks while I led worship.  I began to fear that someone would watch our livestream and take issue with something I said or take issue with the fact that I was leading worship at all.  When I asked around about why such behaviors were not being disciplined, I was told “The PCA isn’t really equipped to deal with interpersonal offense or abuse.  It is really only set up to deal with theological error.”  It was at this point I realized that the cavalry was not coming, and the cost of continuing on in leadership was too high.  So, I resigned my leadership roles within the PCA.

I’d hoped that all I needed was a break from these roles and that I’d go back to feeling at home at church.  But, that didn’t happen.  I was continuing to have moments of panic during services, even though I wasn’t leading.  My body no longer felt safe at church.  So, after months of trying, panicking, taking a break, trying again, panicking…we decided as a family to take an extended break from church.   

When I left the churches and the denomination that had been my home for over 20 years, I was hoping for some immediate relief.  I did not get it.  Instead of relief, I felt the loneliness of being without a spiritual home.  I felt immense self-doubt, wondering if I’d made the right choice, or if I had just not been strong enough to handle it.  The panic attacks would not resolve for another year, and during that year I found myself re-litigating things I’d said, things I believed, and choices I made.  Instead of relief, I got unraveling.   

I still remember the morning my son asked me, as we sat on the couch watching a Bible Project video (our version of church for over a year now), “Are we doing something wrong not going to church?”  My choice was now affecting my son and causing him distress.  And, though I was able to give my son an answer to disarm his fear in the moment, I was left with a level of fear and guilt about how this decision would affect my kids.

It was in the midst of this discouragement that Jesus led me to Ezekiel 34.  

The word of the Lord came to me: ² “Son of man, prophesy against the shepherds of Israel; prophesy and say to them: ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Woe to you shepherds of Israel who only take care of yourselves! Should not shepherds take care of the flock? ³ You eat the curds, clothe yourselves with the wool and slaughter the choice animals, but you do not take care of the flock. ⁴ You have not strengthened the weak or healed the sick or bound up the injured. You have not brought back the strays or searched for the lost. You have ruled them harshly and brutally.

In this passage, Ezekiel is prophesying against the shepherds of Israel, and empathizes with the sheep that have been brutalized and abandoned by their shepherds.  He challenges one set of shepherds by highlighting how they have benefited from the flock without actually protecting them, and he calls out another set of shepherds by confronting them with their harsh treatment of these sheep.  He makes clear that it is the actions, and inaction, of the shepherds that have forced these sheep to leave the fold.

The Lord also sees that the abuse and abandonment of the shepherds has created a bullying environment amongst the sheep.

17 “‘As for you, my flock, this is what the Sovereign Lord says: I will judge between one sheep and another, and between rams and goats. 18 Is it not enough for you to feed on the good pasture? Must you also trample the rest of your pasture with your feet? Is it not enough for you to drink clear water? Must you also muddy the rest with your feet? 19 Must my flock feed on what you have trampled and drink what you have muddied with your feet?…21 Because you shove with flank and shoulder, butting all the weak sheep with your horns until you have driven them away…”

The stronger sheep have begun to reflect their shepherds and have begun mistreating the most vulnerable amongst them.  Rather than look out for one another they have begun to look out only for themselves.  They have begun to drive these sheep away from their source of safety and sustenance.  And the shepherds, rather than corralling the bullying sheep, allow it to continue. 

The outcome for these sheep that have been bullied, abused, and neglected? 

⁵  …they were scattered because there was no shepherd, and when they were scattered they became food for all the wild animals.

“They were scattered.”   

The Lord does not blame the sheep for not being able to endure. He does not challenge them to stay and become more resilient sheep.  He does not tell them, “Look, all pastures are imperfect, and shepherds are just people.  I love the pasture, and the pasture is my primary means of acting in the world, so we have to stick with her, even though she’s not perfect.” He looks squarely at the shepherds of Israel and tells them that their self-benefiting actions, their harsh and brutal treatment of the sheep, and their inability or unwillingness to tend to or protect the most brutalized sheep are the reasons his sheep are scattered.  These sheep had hit the limit of what they could endure, realized there was no aid nor protection coming for them, so they could no longer remain.   They were left with two bad choices:  Remain with the flock and be treated brutally or leave the flock and risk being devoured.  The Lord sees the sheep’s scattering as a survival move, a necessary scattering required by the bullying flock and their brutal and negligent shepherds.  

But, the Lord is not content to chalk this unsafe environment up to the fall.  As a strong and loving Shepherd, he steps in to call the brutal and negligent shepherds, and the bullying sheep, to account, and offers comfort, protection and provision to his scattered sheep.

¹⁰ This is what the Sovereign Lord says: I am against the shepherds and will hold them accountable for my flock. I will remove them from tending the flock so that the shepherds can no longer feed themselves. I will rescue my flock from their mouths, and it will no longer be food for them…

¹¹ I myself will search for my sheep and look after them. ¹² As a shepherd looks after his scattered flock when he is with them, so will I look after my sheep. I will rescue them from all the places where they were scattered on a day of clouds and darkness… ¹⁵ I myself will tend my sheep and have them lie down, declares the Sovereign Lord. ¹⁶ I will search for the lost and bring back the strays. I will bind up the injured and strengthen the weak, but the sleek and the strong I will destroy. I will shepherd the flock with justice.

There it was.  The relief for my guilt and shame.  The understanding that I needed.  The compassion from the Good Shepherd that I didn’t even know was offered.  Until this time, I had blamed my inability to endure, my weakness, my fear, my “otherness” for my leaving.  But, God saw it differently. He sees it as reasonable and needed that I, and others, would leave to escape the brutal actions of pastors and elders.  He saw the bullying being done by elders and congregants that kept many from being fed and filled.  He saw the absence of protective and healing actions.  He saw the two bad choices laid out before us, and does not condemn us for the one we chose.  He doesn’t call us sinful, nor cowardly, nor faithless, he calls us “scattered.”  

To you scattered sheep, those who are spiritually homeless, wandering and wondering where you will find safety, the true Shepherd says, “I see you.  I see how you have been treated, how you have been unprotected, how you have been driven away.  I do not blame you for your leaving.  I know you were scattered.  Though other shepherds may not have come for you, I know where you are, I know your fear and shame and guilt, and I will come for you.   I will be your Shepherd.  I will lead you to safe pasture, and I will call to account those who did this to you.  And until we find a final, settled pasture, I will be your safe pasture.”

For part 3 of this series:
https://askingforme.org/2023/09/30/part-3-shepherds-or-strangers/

For part 1 of this series:
http://askingforme.com/2023/09/08/part-1-the-deconstruction-of-trust/