Almost everyone I know has either left a denomination or a church or watched someone they love do it. It’s easy to do it badly. I’m sure I didn’t do it perfectly. To be honest, I’ve only moved my membership from a church on one occasion for reasons other than moving out of state. But I do have some reflections to pass along that I’ve learned in the process, if you might find yourself in the same place.
1. Separate the institution from the faith. Losing confidence in a denomination or a church’s leadership is not the same as losing your faith. Don’t let anyone, including your own anxiety, convince you those two things are the same decision. The people of God and the Kingdom of God are bigger than any one church or denomination. Way bigger.
2. Name the actual issue, not just the feeling. For me, my podcast “Why I’m Not a Fundamentalist” became that process, a way to deal objectively, as much as I’m able, with the issues that were forcing me to consider a change. “I’m frustrated” isn’t a reason to leave. We’ve weathered plenty of frustration without leaving. If you’re going to make a move, make it about substance, not preference.
Reasons like they’re asking me to affirm something I believe is untrue, or to support what is unfaithful, or to stay silent about real harm being done — those are proper reasons to leave. Get specific before you go, so you’re leaving toward something, not just away from something.
3. Talk to the people who could make a change, before you go. Not to change their mind, and not to negotiate, this is a courtesy conversation, meant to be constructive. Wherever it’s safe to do so, don’t just disappear. A hard conversation with a pastor or a friend is still better than a quiet exit. It leaves the door open for them to hear you, even if they don’t agree. It’s possible the concerns that led you to leave will be recognized, later, in ways that help.
4. Good grief. Grieve. Lament. Don’t skip that step. Even a necessary departure is a loss — relationships, rhythms, a place that shaped you. Pretending it doesn’t hurt just delays the healing. Let it be right and sad at the same time.
People will say you left because you’re the problem. That’s not entirely wrong — you’re not perfect either, and that’s always part of the story. But watch for the version of that line that’s really gaslighting: the implication that there’s never a good reason to leave, that you only left because you’re “the kind of person who leaves.” Don’t fall for it.
Some people will take your leaving personally. They’ll stop responding, stop reaching out. Friendships you thought were lifelong will evaporate like mist in the light of your decision. What you thought was rooted in love may turn out to have been rooted in a shared commitment to a denomination or a narrow set of doctrines. Realizing how shallow those relationships were can hurt more than the leaving itself.
Practicing radical acceptance has helped me here. Don’t fight it. Let them go. Once it’s clear, accept it, grieve it, and keep going.
What’s not love never lasts. That’s an inescapable truth.
5. Look for a healthy community, not just another church. You’re looking for people committed to honestly wrestling with Scripture, who take truth and grace seriously, knowing they won’t get either exactly right. For us, that means driving over an hour to a church we love, led by a pastor we trust — a man who’s been there thirty years, who’s led his church to feed food-insecure kids, who serves as chaplain to the police and fire departments, and who I would trust with my life. It’s the kind of preaching and serving I want my family around — a church far more concerned with its neighborhood than with denominational infighting. Completely worth the drive.
6. Expect to still have questions when you land. The new place won’t resolve every doubt, and it isn’t supposed to. Landing somewhere doesn’t mean you’ve figured everything out. It’s an honest sign you’re still growing. Stay curious.
7. Continue to pursue your calling. Asking hard questions and refusing simple answers aren’t the opposite of faith. Sometimes it’s the most faithful thing about you, the thing that keeps you from becoming another nodding head affirming things that look nothing like Jesus.
Someone once told me: be a prophet, not a parrot. Wherever you go, wherever you land, don’t set your calling aside just to assimilate. Certainly build community and support the leadeship. But we need your voice more than we need you to blend in. Find somewhere where that is welcomed, and plant deep roots and bear fruit.
