How do church leaders deal with members who have not returned since the Covid lockdowns?

I have heard various responses over the past few months. As churches opened up more and more over the past year, there was the hope that the people would return in droves. Rather, as feared by some, many have remained aloof from the church.

A common suggestion is that leaders “remind members of their vows” when they came into membership. After all, members have promised to serve the church and submit to the elders.

But this response strikes me as a bit cold.

In part, because I have watched with great disappointment as the church did all it could to tear itself apart during these two to five horribly polarizing years. Where the church should have raised up to help those who were being devastated by both the pandemic and the economic results of the shutdown, instead it was going to battle with governments (local and federal) and with one another.

The church seemed to become more concerned about its own belly button than for its mission to God’s world. It became all the more “musk ox,” as Dick Keyes describes in “Chameleon Christianity,” than a missional body seeking to bring hope and healing to the lost.

So, as members of Christ’s family have become disheartened by the actions and hurtful words of God’s people, I have stopped short of blaming them for their reticense to come back into worship services. Though I believe Scripture teaches that the church is God’s design and He is ever building it in His ways and according to His desires, I also empathize with these folks.

I believe that we need to listen to these people and seek to understand their difficulties. Then we can determine if we can love one another in better ways in order that they may want to hold to their vows.

We need to remember that a church member’s vows were to the church that Jesus has built under leaders that are following Him. . . not the leaders’ political party or other man-made rules. [Believe it or not, Scripture does not teach on our political party registration]. It seems that when all else fails for leaders to retain power and authority, they require submission to them as their fall-back position.

Look to Jesus

Rather, we should look to Jesus, the Shepherd of our souls, for the kind of leadership He demands of His elders and pastors.

And they came to Capernaum. And when he was in the house he asked them, “What were you discussing on the way?” ³⁴ But they kept silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest. ³⁵ And he sat down and called the twelve. And he said to them, “If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.” ³⁶ And he took a child and put him in the midst of them, and taking him in his arms, he said to them, ³⁷ “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.”

Mark 9:33-37 (ESV)

Jesus used receiving a child as an example for their leadership model.

What does that say to church leaders? At the very least, it suggests humility. Particularly, in the New Testament society, children were the humblest of all. They had NO authority. Who would listen (or receive) a child as important?

Rather than playing the authority trump card (no pun intended), consider asking these questions of those who are struggling to re-engage with the church:

• Are there ways the church leaders, or members of the church, have made it difficult for you to return?
• Are there ways the church leaders have failed to be Christ-like in their leadership?
• Are there ways we have added to Scripture or subtracted such that you do not trust our leadership?
• How can we serve you as shepherds?

Don’t Stop

But, you must not stop there.

Many leaders will ask these questions and then show their toxic leadership by then telling members what’s what. The leaders will defend and justify themselves and their congregations rather than humbly respond in empathy (even when the member is wrong). . . hearing the hearts of their sheep and recognizing that they have their reasons for being hurt.

Leaders who desire to be Christ-like in their leadership must humbly consider their own failings and seek to restore through humility those who are wandering in the wilderness.

Nearly every individual I know, who is failing to return to church at this time, has good reasons. Those reasons are because they feel beat up after every service by well-meaning, but Pharisaical leaders. . . leaders who have added to Scripture their own ethical and political standards.

Leaders, turn your eyes upon Jesus and turn away from holding your authority tightly. Seek to be last rather than first. Serve, rather than be served. Defend the sheep rather than self.

by Ginny Barker

For a while we had something beautiful. 

Every single week a small group of us from church met together. We alternated weeks being out somewhere, such as trivia night at a brewery, with meeting for dinner in someone’s home. Yes, we might have spiritual discussions and yes, we did frequently share concerns and needs for prayer and, yes, we did often pray together, but the focus was on our relationships. Intentional community, it was called. 

This group of people became my lifeline, my family of sorts, my refuge during some terribly hard years. I lived for Tuesday evenings when I knew I could show up and be me in whatever mess I was in. And they knew I was there for them. Always. And outside of Tuesdays we still got together for hiking and game nights and such. Life together. It was the closest thing I had ever experienced up to that point to what I think true fellowship looks like. 

A new pastor came along and changed things up. He brought an agenda. Each week became a specific Bible study with questions and answers and asking one another spiritual questions about sin and repentance. The tone changed. The atmosphere changed. The streams of living water dried up and I was faced with a desert of spiritual expectations and forced piety. When we questioned the changes the leader of the group asked, “But don’t you love the Word?” The pastor blasted us in a sermon, proclaiming we were to “say no to casualness of faith…just hanging out and doing things together because it makes us feel good.” He told my husband that the change was not up for discussion. Drop it.

And like that, just like that, what had been so very beautfiful to me was gone. This all happened amid a growing concern over other serious issues and I quit attending church. And then we left the church altogether. Another story for another time.

I was left to grieve and grieve deeply what I had lost. And yet there was a hefty heap of shame on top of it all. Why was the transition from hanging out and loving one another to a structured spiritual time together so hard for me? Did I “love the Word?” Or didn’t I? 

I had always longed for a sense of community and felt oh, so bad for wanting it. In church cultures where deep dives into theology or telling “the lost” about Jesus were the true marks of a heart after God, my hunger for connection was seen as avoiding the hard truth that Jesus should be all I need. 

Why was the loss of this little community so devastating to me? When reading Krispin Mayfield’s book, Attached to God, I found my answer. 

And rather than try to cut and paste bits and pieces, I’m going to share most of the entire section:

Therapist Francis Broucek worked with many clients in families where the mode of relationship was to meet a parent’s strict standard. This created a sense of self that put value in the person’s performance. He found that in the most important relationships, where “a connection should be, there is only the experience of being evaluated or evaluating oneself.” It doesn’t always have to be negative judgment, but that every interaction was based on how the child was peforming, how they were doing, rather than the parent coming close for closeness’ sake. For these clients, the relationship was all assessment, absent of true connection. 

For many of us, this mirrors the spiritual tradition we’ve been given. Most facets of religious life have been about determining whether you are following God in the right ways. How close are you? What are you supposed to be doing next? Are you growing–or backsliding? What is God trying to teach you right now?

,,,Broucek found that this same prompting between parents and children created shame. It’s not surprising since in the absense of connection. we begin to conclude that the disconnect is because there is something repulsive about us. The more we continue to focus on our performance and progress, the more we feel shame. When we believe that shame is due to sin, then we try to get it right–or confess our way out of shame. But if we’re going to heal from shame, we need relationships that go beyond evaluation. 

As Broucek reflected on our need for a connection that creates sanctuary in a world of evaluation, he thought about the importance of interactions that aren’t rooted in evaluation, assessment, standards, or measuring up. Searching for a word to describe a relationship that is nonevaluative, he decided simply to call this kind of connection “communion.” 

Krispin Mayfield, “Attached to God”

Communion. That is what I had. That is what I lost when the template of spiritual performance and evaluation was slammed down on a precious group of people. 

Mayfield had started this section of the book by saying that in order to understand our belovedness, we need to experience it. We need to be able to connect with God and with people minus the constant state of evaluation and performance. 

Some of my friends and I have a regular conversation that goes something like this: “Why are friendships with church people so much harder and more awkward?” I think this explains so much. We have been somehow convinced that our own connection to God is dependent on our performance and part of our performance is policing the performance of those around us. Thus we admonish and exhort and chide, we goad and sharpen, we lob scripture bombs, and often suffocate with the silence of disapproval. But we don’t listen. We don’t treat one another with respect. We don’t necessarily treat one another as beloved. We don’t believe that connecting for the sake of connecting is beautiful in and of itself.  

(True admonishment and exhortation, when necessary, should only come in the context of strong connection and community. Otherwise it does way more damage that good.)

Why was I so grief-stricken? I had lost communion. I had lost communion in the name of God. 

I know my processing of this has been long and rambling but it now makes so much sense to me. Reading this short passage in a very excellent book (I highly recommend reading it) proved to be lightbulb moment in my understanding of my hunger for connection, community, communion. It helped me understand my grief and why that loss was so very profound. And it helps me know what I, what we all, really need.