We live in a culture of change. We change hairstyles, hobbies, careers and friends. We even change residences. On average, seventeen percent of Americans move during a year. As with most cultural trends, this practice has infected the Church. It is estimated that in the typical North American evangelical church, slightly more than fifty percent of the congregation is new, that is, in attendance for less than two years. The majority of these new attendees are church migrants, who change church communities in search of something better.
Migration between churches isn’t surprising. We live in a consumer society, bombarded by constant inducements to find the “perfect” solution to our needs—be it shoes, tires, cereal or vacations. Brand loyalty is an antiquated notion. If something no longer meets our needs, we discard it and seek a replacement. Sadly, this also describes the pattern of our relationships. We move through people like kids consume candy. The repulsive statistics of divorce in our society reveal this disturbing trend.
Why do people leave churches? The reasons can vary: many admit a dissatisfaction with the style of worship or the content of preaching. Families may find fault with the youth or children’s ministry. Even a perceived “unfriendliness” to the congregation can motivate people to leave.
On the face of it, these sound like valid reasons for changing one’s place of worship. Let’s be honest: few of us have not been failed by a local church at some time or another. Pastors do abandon the Word; worship has turned into entertainment; leaders of children’s and youth ministries are frequently ill equipped or unqualified; and in some churches you could die in the aisle and people would walk by you in search of a familiar face! There is not a church on this earth that has not failed someone somewhere somehow.
But there is a price to pay for allowing consumerist sentiments to drive our church attendance. Changing churches comes at a high cost—the price is a life of genuine discipleship. Growth in Christ comes through submission in community. And submission only begins when agreement ends. Sometimes, when every bone in our body is telling us to run, that’s exactly the time that—in Christ—and in faith—we need to stay.
Evangelicals are awakening to the practice of spiritual disciplines. There is one discipline, however, that is still relatively unknown: the discipline of stability. Stability is a commitment to stay where God has placed us. It is a vow of faithfulness to a community, to be engaged in it and aware of what is happening with its people. Stability enables the things of God to have a greater effect on us. By staying in one place, others come to know us, and, for perhaps the first time, we are forced to come to know ourselves. When we constantly change communities, we can hide behind masks and avoid being known. Yet it is in being known by others that God works in our lives, conforming us to the image of Christ. In the book, A Guide to Living in the Truth, Michael Casey eloquently captures this truth:
“When God sets about purifying a human being, the process is accomplished in large measure by human agents. This is because the components of our being which block our receptivity to grace are the very blemishes which other people find ugly. The negative reactions of others serve as a mirror in which we can see reflected those deformations of character against which we need to struggle. The pain we experience in being rejected acts as a purge to motivate us to make ourselves more genuinely loveable. Any advance in this direction has the automatic effect of increasing our openness to the action of God. Of course, one who refuses to acquiesce in the truth of others’ reactions becomes more deeply entrenched in bitterness and recrimination and further away from love and God.”
It may be the height of irony, but if we really want change, we must remain in the same place. As Christians, our heart’s desire is for change, to be conformed to the image of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Therefore we must be prepared to admit that the problems we most want to escape are the problems of our self, and not of our church. There are no perfect churches, no perfect pastors and no perfect congregations, even as we ourselves are not perfect. But if we walk together, baring ourselves honestly before each other, God will work in us. And we will learn to be fully human—to believe and to trust each other, and to be dependent and vulnerable.
Stability—the commitment to remain where God has placed us. Note that it all begins with the sense that God has called us to a particular place. If you are somewhere of your choosing, somewhere where God did not call you—then you must take the time to discern God’s will and make a change. But do not deceive yourself—there is no such thing as coincidence for Christians. If you honestly examine your heart, you’ll probably discern God’s leading to be right where you are. He doesn’t need to split the sky to lead His own—He is infinitely more gentle than that with His children.
Find the place to which you’ve been called and settle down. Get involved. Drop the mask(s). True change will come as we remain in the same. Selah!
