Leaving Church, Keeping Faith

What happened after I left my church and marriage

It felt like my heart was going through a meat grinder. I decided I could no longer go back to church. I could no longer trust any organized religion or institutions for that matter. I feel afraid of groups of people who insist they have the truth. Because humans are faulty, and it is impossible to be sure about anything.

I started to question everything I’d known. The ideas that I once thought were wise, from people that I once looked up to and respected. I realized they were either based on their own personal perspective on things, which were based on generations and generations of people telling stories from their own perspectives. One thing I know for sure is that the human perspective is not always the truth. There could be so many sides to one story.

I Was That Church Girl

Church used to be such a huge part of me. All throughout my teens and twenties, I was heavily involved in leadership, and that meant going to church several times a week. Being a leader and part of a community gave me a sense of identity. I felt that in order to please God, that was the only way to live. I was quite good at being the “good” Christian. I rarely ever said no to demands. I knew my calling was to work with the youth and bring them closer to Jesus. I was also part of a worship team ever since I was 13.

I knew that people looked up to me, thought of me as a very godly person. I was so good at putting up a facade of a good Christian girl and was terrified of people finding out the real me. When one of the members asked me if I have had sex before marriage, I was mortified but I had to tell her the truth. I felt so much shame afterward for several days. Even though I’d told her to not tell anyone, I texted her again to confirm that she would not tell another soul.

Why I Left Church

I left my husband of six years to be with another man who turned out to be an atheist. After we left our partners for each other, we were shocked to find out that we were on complete opposite ends of the religious spectrum. We decided to stay together but he did not want the church to be a part of his life at all. If I went to church by myself on Sundays, he would feel that it’s not a fulfilling enough relationship. After all, it’s not just a hobby that I spend several hours a week on, it is a lifestyle, and something he couldn’t be a part of.

Of all the churches, he also said, he was against the evangelical ones, because they believed the bible to be literal, and is the root of so many issues like seeing homosexuality as a sin. At that time I wasn’t sure what to tell him. I had several gay friends and didn’t see them as any less of a human being. I loved them. But I was taught growing up that the act of homosexuality is a sin, so yes, you can love them, but you should also pray for their poor souls that are going to hell. And the worst of it all — he hated Hillsong church and I couldn’t listen to their music around him because it would remind him of our differences. It sucks when nearly 70% of the Christian songs in existence are by Hillsong. Who was I without Hillsong music?

My best friend and her husband sat me down for an intervention. They told me that I should go back to my husband because marriage is sacred. I told them I can’t. They said this is the devil’s doing, and if I choose to stay with the other man, he would pull the rug from under me and I would end up alone and devastated. I still chose to leave my husband. That meant there was no redemption for me. They said they will not be able to support us and our new relationship.

Then something happened that opened my eyes to the reality of some of the teachings of the church and its leaders. My dad had a major stroke and nearly died. He woke again, but his entire body was left paralyzed. The first night at the emergency room, I texted my best friend in a panic.

My dad wasn’t a believer. I had prayed for him to become a believer ever since I was 12. My dad was one of those stubborn people who could not believe a loving God and starving children couldn’t exist in the same universe. My best friend’s dad was a pastor whom I had ultimate respect for. He was the godliest and wisest man I’d known. He officiated our wedding. He was to me as a spiritual father.

I texted her and told her what had happened, and asked that her dad come and pray for my dad’s soul so he doesn’t end up in hell. If you are a reader unfamiliar with Christians or Christianity, this is the worst thing that can happen; someone you love ending up in an eternal fiery torture chamber. For an unexplained reason to this day, her dad refused to come. He said something like, I should ask a pastor with whom my dad has a closer relationship. My dad didn’t have pastor friends to choose from. He didn’t even go to church. This was one of the many unofficial rules within the church leadership that are observed. Other rules like these for example were: get married as soon as you meet “the one” so you don’t get caught up in passion and commit a sin by having sex before marriage. Or, try to stay away from secular music because it will cause you to backslide and not be as focused as you should be on God (for most of my 20s, I felt guilty listening to non-christian music, so I just didn’t). I used to think observing these rules was a superior way to live. If you were to break any of these rules, you were somehow displeasing God and not being a very good Christian. My friend told me there was nothing she could do about her dad’s decision. I felt judged for not listening to their advice and choosing to leave my husband. They were indirectly saying, “your dad fell with a stroke because of your sins. I told you so.” I trusted the teachings of my evangelical church and its leaders without a doubt. Now that trust was broken. I could never go back.

The Search

So I decided to find a church that accepted gay and lesbians and didn’t teach them to be celibate. I felt that they would be less judgmental in general and wouldn’t have made up rules about what’s acceptable and what’s not. I found a list of churches that seemed progressive in my area. I felt hopeful. Maybe I can find an alternative community of believers that are less judgmental. Then Covid happened, and it was no longer possible to visit these churches. I was floating again.

It was terrifying. I felt like I had no anchor. I was aimlessly floating through nothing. I didn’t know who I was, or who I was supposed to be. There was only one person I knew who used to be a devout Christian and stopped going to church. But that person abandoned her faith altogether, and I was different. I still believed in God, loved him, and wanted his approval, and wanted to make things right by him again. But for the life of me, I could not figure out how I would please God, and not go to church or be a part of any sort of spiritual community.

Week after week, months after months, I just felt lost, confused, and heartbroken. I kept thinking about what my best friend and her husband said to me, during that intervention. Am I living a sinful life? Is God displeased with me? Can I be a Christian and not be part of a church? How can I connect with God without listening to Hillsong? What is my calling in life other than to build the church up by being a worship leader, mentoring, and teaching younger members? Is my relationship going to last even though he’s not a Christian and God probably doesn’t approve? What does God really say about homosexuality? What does God really say about going to church every Sunday? What does God really say about those who’s committed such a horrible sin as adultery? For a very long time, I felt doomed and very alone.

I started to search online in hopes to find people like me, who have faith in God but choose not to be a part of a church. For the first time, I was an outsider looking in. It was easy to find countless stories of people leaving their evangelical church. They were usually for reasons much harsher and most of them left the faith altogether.

When I was starting to feel that I was definitely the only person going through this, I found Backyard Church through Medium. Dan Foster, the founder of Backyard Church, had refreshing ideas about the church and God that I was pondering as well. I was encouraged to see that he thought a person can be a follower of Jesus and not necessarily go to church. He challenged a lot of the beliefs and teachings of evangelical churches. My thoughts around many of the arbitrary rules that the church organizations have constructed were validated through his articles. Ultimately, he writes that Jesus was the embodiment of love, compassion, and empathy and that today’s church does not fully represent his unconditional love.

The Heart of Jesus

As an ex-very-godly person, I must quote the bible. Matthew 12:1–8 is one of my favorite bible stories. Jesus and his disciples were walking through a grain field. They were hungry and started to eat the grain. Apparently, they weren’t supposed to do that on the day of Sabbath, and the Pharisees were quick to point it out. Then Jesus replies and says,

“If only you had known the meaning of ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice,’ you would not have condemned the innocent. For the Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath.”

Here Jesus is saying, catering to the disciple’s needs now is more important than observing rules. Being compassionate and understanding the needs of an individual in the present is more important than whether they are following rules.

I learned an important lesson by going from being the best Christian to basically the worst. I learned to not judge anybody for their actions or where they are at in life. God wants to protect us from getting our hearts broken. If you look at the ten commandments, you can see his heart in it. He basically just wants us to love each other, get along, and be happy. If you do end up doing something that’s out of line (which you will definitely do, because everyone makes mistakes and some people are just simply not great human beings), you’ll still be okay. You are not doomed. If you see someone that’s breaking the rules, it’s still okay. It doesn’t mean they’re not as good of a Christian, or even a human being. Just be there for them, and support them through their decisions. Yes, they will possibly go through immense pain all on their own accord, but that just means you should support them all the more if you are a good friend. God’s not judging, so why should you?

I have not entirely figured out who I am exactly in this new life that I chose. I still have options to explore, and I definitely want to find a community of like-minded believers now that things are opening back up post-Covid. I think, for now, I am okay with my belief that I love God, God loves me, and I’m no longer afraid of my life’s trajectory.