My really "churchy" classmates from seminary tease me all the time about my current state of affairs with the church. Snootily they say with a condescending and smug tone, "Sean, where are you worshipping?" The tone implies that I'm somehow in a backslidden state suffering with an addiction in the worst corner of the world. It also implies that I somehow, don't understand my role/calling as a minister of the Gospel.
Both of these assessments would be dead wrong! And, I imagine I'm not the only church-boy-gone-rogue, who has had a set of friends who make you feel guilty for things that they don't understand. It's a good thing that I have lots of friends...and some who really get me.
Where do I start...I don't know. I could start with what it's like to be in church leadership before and after seminary, before and after moving to no less than three new cities. I could start with my time as a minister serving on a pastoral search committee, and directing choirs and youth art programs...as programs came to a screeching halt because of ministerial transition. Or, I could tell you about serving in a church that changed pastor's and direction while I was on an internship and decided that they couldn't keep me on staff. Or, I could tell you about the church that gave a pastor one week to vacate the premises because of a good "church fight," as I prepared the choir for Sunday worship. Or, I could share with you how I once served a church that used the impoverished to exploit grant opportunities. Or, I could tell you about the church where I sat like an ornament in a pew, hoping to do something other than sing back-up. I'm not saying that these church environments shouldn't exist. Sure, they each had something special about them (none of which I've named). But, as an unpaid bi-vocational minister, hoping to see and hear God when I attended church, I just became...well...tired.
I was tired of the unchecked dysfunctional behavior of senior leadership. I was tired of ego. I was tired of leading things that didn't also rejuvenate my spirit. I was tired of mean-spirited directors. I was tired of foregoing weekend plans to be at one more service with "pastor." I was tired of trying to lead a congregation into worship, who really just wanted "worship-tainment." I was tired of really bad sermons that lacked either intellectual integrity, cultural significance, or a serious sense of Godliness. I was tired of driving to and fro to preach for what amounted to "gas money", after (leaving my professional work) studying on end to prepare sermons. I was tired of working in ministries that required my tithe, but I never saw the tithe work in its building of youth, college students, or young adults. I was tired of participating in ministries where people weren't committed to community beyond the numbers of people they could get into their pews. I was tired of going to church and getting "nothin" out of it. I am tired just thinking about it!
And, it happened slowly over time that I noticed that things were not right. I'd spend time in the company of my peers, over dinner or lunch, and realize that God was meandering in our conversation, in a way that wasn't apparent in the "hi's and bye's" of my polite corporate worship life. I'd watch a sermon from a church far away, and realize that I had just learned something from that message that I hadn't heard in months from the church where I was worshiping. I'd be at another church visiting and feel the presence of God washing over me as the choir/praise team sang with such conviction. I would read something, or something would happen in the world, and I would realize that I and the church I was attending were having two different conversations. They were talking about corporate worship, favor, tithes, and offering, and I was talking about social/political change, community healing/restoration, personal worship, and trying to see God in all things. I wasn't the only one struggling with this. One afternoon while at a service, my wife looked at me, and said, "is this working for you...cause it's not working for me."
And as ministers we didn't want to see what we were seeing...that we weren't a good fit for the place where we were. We hadn't outgrown it per se, it just wasn't a good fit. So we decided to take a sabbatical, and visit other churches, and travel, and go on retreats with friends, and worship in other spaces, and question, and read, and think, and laugh...and have a baby too. We decided to do something that is typical of our generation, but atypical of church folk in general. We decided to take a break so that we could really move beyond the perfunctory motion of local church life, with its never ending obligation.
It's not that we don't want to be in our church, its that we want more from our church...well, any church where we are obligated both by calling and by commitment to serve the local body. We want to leave service, meetings, and bible studies filled with inspiration for the world we face, rather than poking hole's in faulty theology because of our theological education. We want to adore and be adored by people as Christ would have us, rather than go months on end before meaningful experiences with sisters and brothers in the body of Christ. We want to be honest, vulnerable, and safe, instead of enduring church fight after church fight...cuss out after cuss out. We want to be in a space that values culture, history, knowledge, and legacy, while also seeking to appreciate the beauty of diversity and nuance. We need a church that helps us make sense of a world filled with examples of Ferguson, Rekia Boyd, and Trayvon...I need that kind of church to help keep my righteous mind in tact. Anything less isn't worth the time and energy I'm going to devote: unfortunately, I've learned that the hard way.
I imagine that many in my generation and below struggle with a sustained commitment to the local church body...trying to move beyond church hurt, toxic sermons, uninspired worship experiences, and cultish group ritual. I offer this simple advice before taking your own church sabbatical. Listen to God's voice above the voice of those around you. Give yourself grace to grow. And, remember that in Moses' living, in Paul's living, and in Jesus' living that they sometimes had to leave the general body to be able to minister effectively. This is important because some church folk will make you feel like if you don't come to the church Tea or Fish Fry that you aren't really saved. That's not true...and those people have forgotten one very important thing. A relationship with God isn't indicative of the parts that they see. It isn't indicative of their gauge of how good of a Christian they think that you are...or that I am.
Your relationship...my relationship with God is about what I do in the world, and how I point towards Him in my daily interactions. My relationship with God is about standing with those in grief, praying over any entrusted to my support, loving the loveable and the not-so-loveable, inspiring others when they spend time with me, giving to others when they need me, and serving the world in a way that indicates Jesus' work in my own life.
So yes, I'm on church sabbatical because I want to be more than an inauthentic pew sitter. Yes, I'm on church sabbatical because I want as much from the church as it wants from me. Yes, I'm on church sabbatical, and while on sabbatical, I'll still proclaim God...I'll still preach and sing...I'll still worship and serve. Yes, I'm on church sabbatical so that I can heal, grow, and meander in the areas that I'm told are grey. And one day hopefully soon, I'll be back in a consistent sunday morning worship experience...but until then I'll be in "revival." In fact, I'm headed to revival tonight!
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