Yet another family had left the church. They were the latest casualty resulting from a scathing, mass email sent out to church members by a disgruntled former attendee.
This loss came at a low point for my wife. She was beyond tired with me being in ministry.
“I’m done,” she told me. “I can’t keep going through this.”
We’d been on this journey for two decades. I’d served as a staff member, youth worker, and lead pastor in various churches.
“It was one thing when we were the ones to move when our time at a church was over,” she said. “It was hard, but I learned to accept that in ministry some situations are seasonal and not every friendship lasts a lifetime. I’ve developed some survival skills to do this along the way.”
“Why is it any different on the other end?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but it just is,” she replied through tears. “It hurts. I’m tired of people leaving. I’m tired of ministry.”
I paused and prayed for insight. I’m not sure if what I said next was from God or just from experience, but it helped reframe the conversation.
“What if ministry is like foster care?” I asked. “Ever notice how people who take in kids experience all kinds of similar highs and lows, and yet they keep doing it? What if we’re like foster parents, and people who attend the church are like foster kids?”
My metaphor didn’t erase the pain we were feeling. But by the end of our conversation, we’d found a way to see the losses we’d experienced differently.
Loving and leaving
I love the idea of welcoming people into God’s family, especially the kind of people who thought they’d never be welcomed at church. I’m guessing you have a similar desire. You want your congregation to be a warm “home” for wounded people of all ages to heal, grow, laugh, and love. When this starts to happen, you begin to dream that they might be with you for the long haul, that they’ll stay forever. It’s a good dream, but usually it’s unrealistic. The truth is most people leave.
Foster parents face the same hard reality. Children they have loved and cared for leave their homes. Here are some of the most common reasons they leave. I’ve come to realize people leave churches for similar reasons.
Biological authority. There are instances when a biological parent will demand a foster child be removed from a caring home. It could be a legitimate reason or an illegitimate one, but the biological parent often still has a lot of power over where their child lives. Sometimes people will leave your church because another person in their family has demanded it. Even a passively negative spouse or household member can interfere with another person’s desire to stay plugged in to your congregation.
Commitment issues: Some foster children hop from home to home. They’d rather continually encounter new situations rather than stay rooted and deal with tough love. Sometimes people who attend your church initially seem thankful for what you’re offering, but soon grow discontent. Only later do you realize this is their pattern, and that they’ll probably leave the next church they attend after leaving yours.
Legitimate launch: For all its problems, the foster care system can work well and deliver healthy individuals into the adult world. In a church people are sometimes called out of your congregation, not because they’re unhealthy or dissatisfied, but because they’ve truly been called by God to move on. It could be they need to relocate for a new job, family matter, or ministry opportunity. You’ll weep over the loss, yet celebrate the blessing you know they’ll be wherever they end up.
Foster fundamentals
No matter if the departure is bitter or sweet, it’s still hard to lose someone from your church. My wife and I have never gotten used to how people can be “completely with us” one day and suddenly move on. But shifting our perspective to see pastoring more as fostering has helped. It’s allowed us to love people as best as you can as long as they’re here.
We’ve realized that we can’t blame church members for their decisions anymore than a foster parent can blame a broken kid for being broken. Whether they’re damaged from their own choices or choices others have inflicted upon them, it’s our call to extend care, to keep extending love and trusting God to guard our hearts.
Fostering the church will wear you down. You can have a really tough goodbye one night, but in the morning have to be ready to welcome in new “kids.” Other times, you’ll just genuinely miss one of your “favorites” and feel their absence keenly.
Then again, there are times when foster care becomes an on-ramp to actual “adoption.” You’ll find yourself with people who want to be part of your family for the long haul. The experience might make you think, this is why I went into ministry in the first place.
Only it isn’t.
What did you sign up for, anyway?
I’m betting there was a time when your heart felt so full that you were willing to love others simply because you could. There were no strings attached. There was simply the transformational love you’d experienced from God—and your wanted everyone to experience it too.
That desire has to be continually renewed by spending time with the same God who gave it to you. He “decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ… it gave him great pleasure.” (Ephesians 1:5)
If the Lord himself finds pleasure in sacrificially fostering the church, maybe we can too.
Tony Myles is pastor of Connection Church in Medina, Ohio.
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