Toxic. Offensive. Oppressive. Unhealthy.
I have never heard these words used so often as in the last four years. Sometimes I feel like everyone I know decides to deal with conflicts with their friends, co-workers, and churches by deciding to leave.
Perhaps this is partly a generational shift as younger generations embrace the idea of ”break the cycle”, or maybe part of it comes from the way the COVID-19 pandemic has led many of us to reevaluate our lives. And nowhere has the trend been clearer than on social media, where people have filmed themselves quitting their jobs, written articles burning down the churches they were leaving, and shared video diaries explaining how a breakup would help them heal.
For many, leaving has become the benchmark for mental health, and staying has become suspect, even illusory.
Leaving and staying, however, are neutral terms. Leaving is not inherently good, and staying is not intrinsically bad. We need to take a better look at how we do both. Instead of defaulting to leaving (or staying), we must learn to seek healing, accountability, repentance, forgiveness, and endurance.
Let me start with a necessary caveat: If you are part of a church, organization, or relationship that is hurting you, leaving might just be the right choice. It’s impossible to give universal advice here, but I’m not suggesting that anyone live under abuse. In a large organization, if a domineering leader isn’t even available to talk, let alone repent if necessary, it probably makes sense to leave altogether.
What concerns me here are the more ambiguous situations, the situations in which we too often make decisions based on our imagination and assumptions rather than on love, truth, and conversation in search of clarity.
In general, as believers, we are called to be agents of reconciliation (2 Cor. 5:18) who, through the Spirit of God, seek to cultivate healthy, clear communication and relationships. This is what Jesus recommends when he commands us twice (Matthew 5:23-24; 18:15-20) to speak and be reconciled with those we have offended or who have offended us.
It can be overwhelming to talk about our feelings and confusion, but it is important that we follow this command with an attitude of openness. We must be willing to ask difficult questions and solve them. If you’re considering having a conversation that seeks clarity, for example, have you considered that you might learn something new about the other person or even yourself? You may find that the other person or organization wasn’t the only “toxic” party in the situation.
Conversation cannot bring us to clarity or reconciliation if we live in the presumption of our own perpetual innocence. “As it is written, ‘There is none righteous, not even one’” (Rom. 3:10).
We also cannot achieve clarity or reconciliation if the conversation never happens. Living in this unresolved tension can harm our mental, emotional, and spiritual health. We may begin to live with a chorus of naysayers in our minds or lose our ability to emotionally connect with others. Jesus told us to be reconciled before coming to worship (Matt. 5:23-24) and even warned that “if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins” (Matt. 6:24). 15).
On the other side of the relationship, when we distance ourselves from people and leave them distraught or confused about our concerns, we place a heavy burden on them. They may feel like they are just a resource to be used and quickly discarded. (I can’t lie; I still can’t believe that the people who put me on emergency speed dial one year lost my number the next year.)
“If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all people” (Rom. 12:18) and “in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests, but each of you to his own interests.” of others” (Phil. 2:3-4). This may require having difficult conversations about complex truths for the sake of the other person.
These conversations will not necessarily end in agreement. Reconciliation and agreement are not the same thing. Years ago, at a church where I pastored, a key member had goals for the congregation that were different from mine. He said, “Pastor, you have a vision, and I have a vision, and two visions create division. “We disagreed, but it was such a relief to see him conclude that he was going in a different spiritual direction without demonizing me or other leaders.
This type of disagreement could lead to some sort of reconciled departure. But if you decide to stay, it can also produce good fruit. I’ve seen people stay and continue the conversation well. They fought for loving change, sought clarity, and over time were able to create a healthier environment through prayer and clarified relationships. And whether we leave or stay, we have a duty to show gratitude and bless others as our Heavenly Father has so graciously blessed us.
Finally, when we seek clarity, we develop endurance in our soul. We can “boast in our sufferings,” says Romans 5:3-4, “because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.
The passage begins in suffering but ends in hope – and that is the fruit of endurance. You can see the other side of suffering by going through the trials and stresses of life with people. Years later, you see fruit from patiently talking about your hurts with others. When we offer our suffering, pain, and trials to Jesus in our relationships and organizations, He gives us His strength to endure (2 Thess. 2:16-17). We can learn to reject the false hope that broken people could one day bring us ultimate peace and, instead, have true hope in Jesus.
James Roberson entered campus ministry in 1999, later graduating from Southeastern Seminary. Committed to social justice, he tackled issues such as youth empowerment, AIDS, drug addiction and domestic violence and played a key role in planting churches in several states. He founded and serves as pastor of Bridge Church in Brooklyn, where he resides with his wife Natarsha and three daughters.
