why i left my church:

(the search for authenticity.)

a bit of backstory…

As I shared in my intro blog post, I became a Christian later in life. My story, and how I found God (or how He found me) was one that caused me to confront myself and who I’d known myself to be my whole life, so it wasn’t something I took lightly. I read my Bible, I talked to God and questioned Him when I needed clarity, I took an honest look at myself and did the inner work to be confident in who I was becoming. All this BEFORE I ever felt comfortable calling myself a Christian. I say this to say, my walk has always been an intentional one. I’ve made my mistakes (and I’ll never be perfect) but by the grace of God I got back up and kept trying day in and day out. I’ve always placed a high value on substance over style.

Being that I became a Christian during COVID in the quiet confines of my own home, there was a pressing need to “join a church” as soon as possible. So when things began to open back up, I ventured out to do just that. I did my “research”, read Google reviews (like I was planning dinner reservations), and went to a few services in-person to see how they made me feel, talking with the congregants, praying about my experiences, and really trying to be sure that I felt like I “fit”. After all, I was looking for a church “home”, and a home should feel welcoming, like a place you belong, right?

After a couple of years of searching, I found a small, local church that I thought was finally “the one”. The first few weeks I attended, the pastor was teaching on the Bible and I felt like I was *really* learning something; for the first time while attending a church service, I felt compelled to take notes. The congregation were all so kind and affectionate (and they mostly looked like me, which wasn’t a necessity but was definitely a plus!) And for the first time, my son proactively told me that he liked coming to church! So I joined, feeling more confident than ever in my decision.

the plot twist.

But shortly after, there was a bit of a shift in the topics of our Sunday services. The pastor began to focus more on what I would call “theatrics” (or what I now know to be “charismatic” church antics). There was less of a focus on teaching the Word, and more of a focus on spectacle. For one, during our weekly testimony service we were explicitly told not to give, and I quote, “boring” testimonies. There was a huge emphasis placed on supernatural and fantastical testimonies (ie, miraculous healings, etc.) So we were not-so-subtly being judged on how dramatic and “moving” our testimonies were (which made me, and I’m sure plenty others, self-conscious, discouraging anyone from wanting to share what could be deemed as “small” or “uninteresting” testimonies). We were also encouraged to speak in tongues during our prayer, and that always made me uncomfortable. Grown men and women babbling over each other and jerking around like they had no self-control. I just kept to my normal prayer style: in silence, and between God and I.

Me being me, I brought it up during our next weekly Bible study meeting, asking the pastor in earnest how does one learn to “speak in tongues”? And making it very clear that I wasn’t going to “fake it”. The virtual room shifted into this uncomfortable silence as he went on trying to explain how he learned to speak in tongues from his old pastor by just '“repeating what his pastor said”, and then the Holy Ghost “came over him” and “took over”. He said my lack of ability just meant I was “saved” but not “saved-saved” and that he can teach me how to speak in tongues “when I was ready”.

What did that even mean? After all of the intentional work I’d done on myself, inside and out: giving up worldly friendships and habits, committing to abstinence until marriage, ridding myself of any idols and items that went against God; reading my Bible cover to cover and truly seeking the meaning behind His Word, accepting Jesus Christ into my heart as my Lord and Savior; going over every bit of my life thus far and sincerely repenting for any and every sin I could think of, getting a water baptism after praying on it and making sure it was the right time and place for me to do so; after coming to God authentically, baring my all and praying for correction and conviction…I wasn’t “ready”?

That made no sense. Besides, I was under the impression that God gave us gifts, not man. And when God gives us gifts, He gives them according to His will. Not based on our works, as it’s written that our works are like “filthy rags” to Him (Isa. 64:4). So, there is no need to get “ready", when God wants to give you one of His divine gifts He will do so of His own accord. Not because you earned it, but because of His grace (1 Cor. 12:11).

However, this pastor was actively trying to tell me that this wasn’t the case, and that instead there was some level of human (his) intervention required for me to receive these gifts from God. Not only was this unbiblical, but he was essentially rewriting the Word and claiming that gifts were not divinely assigned by God, but based on a form of “works-based” merit, which just wasn’t true. Even as a “baby Christian” I was fully aware that most people went to church every Sunday just to “check a box”. There wasn’t any heart or intentionality behind going, they simply went to keep up appearances; they did it for the eyes of man, which is in direct opposition to the Bible (Gal. 1:10). But somehow despite all the intentional work I did, in this wholly unbiblical “works-based” merit system, I somehow wasn’t “ready” and they were?

I’ve always been the “inquisitive” type, and though it was acceptable—even encouraged—in grade school, that acceptance very quickly morphed into disdain and quiet hostility. Teachers refusing to call on me when I raised my hand to ask a question, for example. So this situation touched on a old, deep insecurity that I held, one that made me feel like an outsider almost everywhere I went, because I was never the type to just “go along to get along”. Things had to make sense to me and I always had a strong conviction that I had a right to ask questions and seek answers…but it wasn’t always well-received. I would be misinterpreted and misunderstood, and I eventually just accepted that I’d never fit in. When I joined this church I thought that I’d finally found my “tribe”, so I was conflicted. That night I cried, protesting with God in prayer. I knew from reading my Bible what 1 Corinthians 14 said about what “speaking in tongues” should look like. (Here, I’ve pulled out my lovely NLT heritage Bible and my Holy Hues Bible study highlighters to highlight the verses directly from the source!) From this chapter, we can glean the following regarding what speaking in tongues should look like if they are indeed of God:

• No more than 2-3 people in a church should have the gift of “speaking in tongues”. (1 Corinthians 14:27)

• Tongues should be spoken in an orderly fashion; if multiple people have the gift, they speak one after another. Not simultaneously. (1 Corinthians 14:27; 29-33)

• There must be someone in the congregation who can interpret what was said. (1 Corinthians 14:6-8; 27)

• IF you have the gift of tongues and no one is around to interpret it, it should be reserved for private prayer/conversation between you and God. (1 Corinthians 14:16-17; 28)

Also, from what is known about tongues by researchers and theologians, “tongues” referred to actual languages, not meaningless babble. As in the original (Greek) word for tongues literally meant “languages” in the context of how it was originally written and based on its use in other parts of the Bible.

the confirmation.

Needless to say, I wasn’t satisfied with my pastor’s answer. But I instantly noticed a stiff and uncomfortable air in the room…so, in the name of not stirring up too much trouble…I let it go. I no longer felt “welcomed” anymore, I felt judged; outcasted. I left the call feeling so conflicted: I was sure I was right, but the fact that the pastor never addressed my very real concerns about the unbiblical nature of these “tongues” that the whole congregation claimed to speak, and the fact that no one else spoke up for me, threw me for a loop.

That night, I went to God in prayer, crying, wondering if I did or said something wrong; wondering if somehow the devil was influencing me to cause disruptions by asking these questions, and wondering what I was “missing” to be able to have this gift that everyone else at my church claimed to have. I asked Him to give me clarity on the whole thing because I was confused and heavily considering leaving that church.

That night, the Lord spoke to me in a dream.

As a note, I don’t now, nor will I ever, mean to claim any “authority” with my dreams. I understand my dreams are personal to me and could be completely meaningless to someone else. However, because my dreams are mine, as is this blog, they have meaning to me and I will reference them as needed as they relate to my blog content.

In praying for interpretation, God revealed to me that I was correct in my understanding of the scripture, but that I should stay at my church. Through my dream, He confirmed that it was good for me to ask questions in an open forum such as Bible study because that’s what it’s for, and indicated that I never knew who else on the call could have similar questions but were too afraid to speak up. So He was encouraging me to ask my questions, not just for the sake of learning, but to encourage open communication and facilitate the asking of the tough questions, so that we as a congregation all felt safe enough to keep each other in line with what was Biblical and not what was blasphemous.

So I stayed…for about 2 more months. However, in that timespan it seemed like they talked in tongues not only more often, but more aggressively. I’d notice we'd be on the weekly Bible study call, or on one of our fasting calls (we did a 21-day Daniel fast earlier in the year), and they’d all collectively “pray in tongues” for minutes at a time.

• More than 2-3 people.

• Not in an orderly fashion.

• No interpretation provided.

It was so disorienting and inflammatory that I’d just hang up.

Eventually, the vibe shift was too much for me, and the smiles and “affection” that once comforted me read as inauthentic. I could no longer sit with myself knowing I was just placating them to keep the peace at the expense of my own beliefs. So I left.

wrapping up.

At first I felt guilty. I felt this pull to find another “home” church and fast! Because…well that’s what I felt I should do. Matthew 18:20 says where two or more are gathered in Jesus’ name, there he will be. And last I checked, I wasn’t “two or more” on my own.

But I place heavy emphasis on joining the right (read: biblical) church. I have absolutely nothing against the church, in general. My issue is with the lack of authenticity in many churches today. I still have a desire to join a (local) church where I can be a part of a community who values Biblical truth over theatrics; a church without all of the pomp and circumstance. I just haven’t found it yet.

So I’m trusting God to eventually lead me to it, in His own timing. In the meantime, I will continue to praise Him, talk to Him, and grow my relationship with Him intentionally and authentically more and more each day, reading my Bible along the way.

And if you’re like me, and struggling to find a “church home”, I’d encourage you to do the same. Keep your heart open to new churches in your area; attend a service or two, but don’t force it. In time, I believe God will speak to our heart and reveal to us the perfect church we can call “home”.

*. *. *

so tell me…

What are your church horror stories that made you realize that your church wasn’t the one for you? Have you found your church home yet? If so, how did God reveal it to you?

Tell me in the comments—I’m looking forward to reading about your journey!

in grace and peace,

gina. 💙