The breakup

After a period of growing dis-ease, I broke up with my church in spring.

In my experience, we fete new members of the church coming in the door and pretend we don’t even notice when the door closes behind those who walk out. When needed, we perfunctorily rubberstamp the withdrawal of membership, but there is no process beyond that. This troubled me long before I was considering being the one to leave.

When it became clear to me during a time away from home that all I had for my church – not only the denomination, for which I long had a list of critiques, but also my local congregation, which I used to cherish as an antidote to the other frustrations – was anger, I decided “stay and fight” was no longer useful; it was time to leave.

But I did not want to fade away like so many before. It is not fitting that a group that formally promises to love care for each other should close our eyes when a member walks away. Firstly, on the basis of purported care for each other’s souls, should we not want to know why someone does not wish to share in our company any more? Secondly, for our own sakes, should we not want to know why someone is leaving so we can take measures to rectify our failings and thus avert others from also leaving?

So I wrote a letter. As hinted at toward the end of the letter, I wanted to do the break up in person at a membership meeting, where people could see my face and I could see theirs, to temper the impact of my words with the relationship we have (or, at least, had) with each other. Where it might be a conversation, not a mic drop. But I was told there is a policy that membership withdrawal can only happen via letter, something I find entirely contradictory to the membership covenant. 

Here is what I said:

Dear members of [church]

This congregation has been a wonderful church family.

There were many opportunities to participate in this fellowship.

It was an egalitarian place where neither my femaleness nor my singleness had any impact on how I was treated.

One moment remains in memory as a perfect example of that dignity: a group of households* from [the church] (*note the intentional, non-excluding terminology that was used in that moment as well) was hosting guests, one of whom had met a few of us before.

When introduced to me, the guest asked, “Who do you belong to?” I knew she was asking whether one of the men was my husband, but before I could either be offended by the indelicacy of her wording or devastated by the implication I would require a spouse to be an ordinary person, several church members answered without skipping a beat: “She’s ours. She belongs to all of us.”

Thank you for being a place where I could belong.

When we accept new members at [this local congregation], we make lovely promises to each other.

We read this covenant from the hymnal that we will shoulder burdens, assist with needs, share with and support each other.

It’s because of those promises, it is because I take seriously that commitment we made to one another that I wanted to speak to you, the congregation with whom this covenant was made, to explain that I am withdrawing from this membership.

There is a certain irony that the person who has quite recently made passionate appeals for church unity is now “breaking up” with this local fellowship. But as César García, general secretary of Mennonite World Conference says, sometimes we need to walk a little bit apart from each other to maintain unity.

I am not leaving the church, but I am formally withdrawing my membership from [local] MB Church, and, by implication from the Canadian Conference of Mennonite Brethren Churches.

Over the past years, there has been a growing apart between the [local church] family and me.

The burdens I carried were not shared – not out of malice or unkindness, but a simple mismatch of concerns. Discussions began to seem more like arguments. Tension was palpable at the board table.

The result is that I am leaving [this church], but the impetus for my departure is ultimately not the congregation but the denomination. I will no longer be part of a group that occupies the majority of its energies with parsing who belongs based on white, male, capitalist, middle-class, heterosexual interpretation of Scripture while the world literally burns.

I choose to cease to be a member of a church** that gives but lip service and performative gestures to reconciliation with Indigenous peoples.

I sever my relationship to a church** that uncritically invests denominational funds in the greatest fossil fuel extraction-enabling bank in Canada, and that names ‘cannabis’ but not ‘weapons of war’ as a completely out-of-bounds category for investment.

Finally, I will not be part of a group that delineates tiers of acceptable leaders and members based on rigid allegiance to an outdated policy document that was never intended to function as a purity test.

This is not to say that I am right and the MBs are wrong. But the paths I feel called to walk down as a Jesus follower are different than the ones that are a priority for [this church]. So rather than pulling constantly against the yoke, in a state of frustration, I have chosen to seek my companions for the journey in a different church community.

I didn’t always keep my part of the covenant. I shied way from submitting to correction or accountability. I neglected at times to respond with generosity to the needs of others in the congregation. I certainly failed to evidence the fruit of the Spirit on many occasions. I am sorry for my shortcomings. Thank you for all the times you bore with me and forgave my repeated sins.

I’m not angry that we’ve grown apart, though I am, of course saddened. I have always been troubled that when our promises fail to hold, for whatever reason, that members just fade away without explanation. I would have preferred to deliver this letter in person as a sign of my respect for the covenant we shared.

Thank you for being my church family for a season in my journey of faith. May you continue to find joy in following Jesus as you discern together.

**It was probably not as clear in my original letter as it should have been that these critiques were levied less at the local congregation – although they bear a certain responsibility for silently aquiescing to most – and more at the denomination.