On this Good Friday, let me share these thoughts from Michael Lodahl's narrative theology, The Story of God:
It is, nonetheless, no small miracle of history that this terrible instrument of torture and death, the Roman cross, has become to Christians the most profound symbol of divine love that will not let us go. In the symbol of Calvary's tree, Christians have confessed that ultimate Reality is laid bare, that God is revealed as the One who bends down in suffering servanthood, who outpours the divine heart of love, and they have said in amazement, "For me - it is for me." Here is the great historical event in which, and by which, we confess with the beloved apostle, "God is love" (I John 4:8, 16).
We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us - and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. . . In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. (3:16; 4:10-11)
Finally, then, the Cross is not merely the historical manifestation of the love and mercy of God but also the central symbol in the Story of God. Further, it symbolizes the spirit and way of the Christian journey, of the Christian orientation toward others. To walk the way of the Cross is to walk in self-giving and other-receiving love, in humility, in servanthood, in vulnerability. It is to consider oneself "dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus," just as Jesus himself "died to sin, once for all," but now "lives to God" (Rom. 6:11, 10) - p. 164
Today, as we reflect on the Cross, that central symbol of God's Story, may it also be reflected in my journey and yours.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Love Just Is
A simple gesture of humility and service can make a powerful statement.
The night before Jesus' crucifixion, He entered the room where the disciples had gathered, the same disciples who had been debating the seemingly important question of which of them was the greatest. Jesus, acting with intention and humility, picks up a towel and basin of water, and taking the place of the lowest of servants, begins to wash the feet of the disciples. Clearly, the idea that he had come to serve others was more than a nice slogan or vision statement - it was the reality of Jesus' heart, character, and behavior.
That moment, just on the surface, is enough to convict and challenge me in regard to the priorities of my life. But as I look beyond the surface, I consider those sitting around that room, those that Jesus kneels before in the position of a servant. I see James and John who delighted in calling down the fire of judgment and openly campaigned for positions of honor. I see Peter who, despite his promises and great proclamations, will act like a coward and deny any knowledge of this Jesus. I see the "rational" and doubting Thomas who will reject the testimonies of resurrection. And then there is Judas. In just a little while, he will turn his back in betrayal against the very one who is washing his feet. As I look around that room, at those being served by Jesus, I cannot escape this thought: they don't deserve it.
This act of humility reveals the amazing quality of Jesus' love. His love is not based on what we deserve or do not deserve, it is not founded what we have done or what we will do. It just is. This incredible, unconditional love was offered without strings and was demonstrated in the laying down of His life for the undeserving. And now we are called to follow this Jesus.
We have a lot of ways of erecting barriers between the church and the world. For that matter, we have a lot of ways of erecting barriers within the church. One of our wall-building methods is trying to determine who deserves to be served, cared for, and loved. We decide who is worthy of our efforts and attention based on who they are in our eyes, what they have done or not done, or what we think they can offer. The way of Jesus, though, is the path of loving and serving for the sake of loving and serving. It is poured out extravagantly, without regard for what is deserved and with no demand for anything in return. It just is.
In the same way, may our love and service just be.
The night before Jesus' crucifixion, He entered the room where the disciples had gathered, the same disciples who had been debating the seemingly important question of which of them was the greatest. Jesus, acting with intention and humility, picks up a towel and basin of water, and taking the place of the lowest of servants, begins to wash the feet of the disciples. Clearly, the idea that he had come to serve others was more than a nice slogan or vision statement - it was the reality of Jesus' heart, character, and behavior.
That moment, just on the surface, is enough to convict and challenge me in regard to the priorities of my life. But as I look beyond the surface, I consider those sitting around that room, those that Jesus kneels before in the position of a servant. I see James and John who delighted in calling down the fire of judgment and openly campaigned for positions of honor. I see Peter who, despite his promises and great proclamations, will act like a coward and deny any knowledge of this Jesus. I see the "rational" and doubting Thomas who will reject the testimonies of resurrection. And then there is Judas. In just a little while, he will turn his back in betrayal against the very one who is washing his feet. As I look around that room, at those being served by Jesus, I cannot escape this thought: they don't deserve it.
This act of humility reveals the amazing quality of Jesus' love. His love is not based on what we deserve or do not deserve, it is not founded what we have done or what we will do. It just is. This incredible, unconditional love was offered without strings and was demonstrated in the laying down of His life for the undeserving. And now we are called to follow this Jesus.
We have a lot of ways of erecting barriers between the church and the world. For that matter, we have a lot of ways of erecting barriers within the church. One of our wall-building methods is trying to determine who deserves to be served, cared for, and loved. We decide who is worthy of our efforts and attention based on who they are in our eyes, what they have done or not done, or what we think they can offer. The way of Jesus, though, is the path of loving and serving for the sake of loving and serving. It is poured out extravagantly, without regard for what is deserved and with no demand for anything in return. It just is.
In the same way, may our love and service just be.
Friday, March 20, 2009
And So It Continues. . .
Looking over my last couple of posts, there seems to be a consistent theme related to Jesus and his interaction with the religious power structure. It's not that I'm trying to be repetitive or I'm just out of creative ideas (although I freely confess to never having a creative and/or original thought). The reality is, in reflecting on the days leading up to Jesus' crucifixion, we cannot escape the intensifying conflict and clashing perspectives that existed between Jesus and the religious elite. So, the story continues.
After the confrontation at the temple, and the ensuing challenge to his authority, Jesus delivers a prophecy of judgment that begins with an indictment of the teachers of the law and the Pharisees. He exposes them as blind guides and hypocrites who, like whitewashed tombs, cover their spiritual deadness with the appearance of righteousness. Despite their insistence on keeping the law, they violated the more important matters of the law, things like justice, mercy, and faithfulness. Their arrogance and self-righteousness kept them from the kingdom of heaven and hindered others who were trying to enter. As much as Jesus longed to gather them "under his wings" of love and redemption, their spiritual pride and blindness made them unwilling.
Those absolutely convinced that they were both right and righteous had gone terribly wrong. The self-professed upholders of the law had violated the very spirit of the law. The proud defenders of truth ended up denying the Truth.
The Pharisees and the teachers of the law were by no means the last to be blinded by their own certainty and arrogance. There are those who claim to follow Jesus but end up defending their concept of truth in a manner that violates the more important issues of love and mercy. Seeing themselves as above error in all things spiritual, they condemn and divide, marring the witness of Christ's Church in the eyes of the world. More concerned about winning arguments than loving others, they set out on a mission to attack and destroy. Fed by spiritual pride and self-righteousness, they judge the hearts of others and proclaim their judgment publicly.
Does Jesus weep over us as he did Jerusalem?
Humility would remind us that we are not above the blindness of the Pharisees; it tells us that the character of Christ is more important than our arguments. Ultimately, truth cannot be reduced to mere propositions to be debated; truth is found in the person of Jesus Christ and his character must be reflected in us. To defend my understanding of the truth in a manner that is arrogant, divisive, and destructive is to deny the heart and character of the Truth. Remember the more important matters - it was not long after this encounter with the teachers of the law and the Pharisees that Jesus gathered with his disciples and simply told them, "My command is this: Love each other."
After the confrontation at the temple, and the ensuing challenge to his authority, Jesus delivers a prophecy of judgment that begins with an indictment of the teachers of the law and the Pharisees. He exposes them as blind guides and hypocrites who, like whitewashed tombs, cover their spiritual deadness with the appearance of righteousness. Despite their insistence on keeping the law, they violated the more important matters of the law, things like justice, mercy, and faithfulness. Their arrogance and self-righteousness kept them from the kingdom of heaven and hindered others who were trying to enter. As much as Jesus longed to gather them "under his wings" of love and redemption, their spiritual pride and blindness made them unwilling.
Those absolutely convinced that they were both right and righteous had gone terribly wrong. The self-professed upholders of the law had violated the very spirit of the law. The proud defenders of truth ended up denying the Truth.
The Pharisees and the teachers of the law were by no means the last to be blinded by their own certainty and arrogance. There are those who claim to follow Jesus but end up defending their concept of truth in a manner that violates the more important issues of love and mercy. Seeing themselves as above error in all things spiritual, they condemn and divide, marring the witness of Christ's Church in the eyes of the world. More concerned about winning arguments than loving others, they set out on a mission to attack and destroy. Fed by spiritual pride and self-righteousness, they judge the hearts of others and proclaim their judgment publicly.
Does Jesus weep over us as he did Jerusalem?
Humility would remind us that we are not above the blindness of the Pharisees; it tells us that the character of Christ is more important than our arguments. Ultimately, truth cannot be reduced to mere propositions to be debated; truth is found in the person of Jesus Christ and his character must be reflected in us. To defend my understanding of the truth in a manner that is arrogant, divisive, and destructive is to deny the heart and character of the Truth. Remember the more important matters - it was not long after this encounter with the teachers of the law and the Pharisees that Jesus gathered with his disciples and simply told them, "My command is this: Love each other."
Friday, March 13, 2009
"Right" Blindness
Continuing my thoughts about the final days leading up to Jesus' crucifixion, there is a moment of confrontation that occurs following the table-tossing episode at the temple. The chief priests and elders - who are none too happy about this attack on their well-run and personally beneficial system - challenge Jesus, asking him what authority he has to do such a thing. Jesus turns it back on them, promising to answer their question if they first answer the question of whether or not John the Baptist was of God. The chief priests knew full well that the people viewed John as a prophet, but they themselves had rejected him. With that realization, and being the political and self-serving weasels that they were, they weren't about to answer the question.
Jesus made his point. These guys refused to acknowledge authority, even when it was clear. They could not see truth, even when it stood right in front of them. So really, there was no point in answering their question, because regardless of the answer, they would refuse to accept it. The chief priests would defend their position at all costs and against any argument. They were right, period, and no other possibility would be allowed.
It's interesting that in our debates and conflicts, we naturally assume that the other person must be the one who is misguided. Others are negatively shaped by their culture and experience; others water down the truth for the sake of personal convenience; others champion wrong interpretations, based on distorted perceptions and rewritten history. Blindness is always the other guy's problem, and we refuse to hear anything that would suggest otherwise. Desperately holding on to the notion that our understanding or interpretation of absolutely everything is absolutely correct, we reject all else as complete error. And those who happen to view things differently are, at best, dismissed as misguided souls or, at worst, rejected as heretics.
It's sad that the followers of Jesus spend so much time and energy arguing with one another, mostly over non-essential things. What makes it more devastating is our unwillingness to even acknowledge that our understanding might be imperfect. Rather than finding resolution by listening and learning from one another, we become more divisive and entrenched. Insistent that blindness and error must always rest on the other side of the issue, our opinions become convictions and our convictions become certainties. I'm not saying that convictions are wrong or that certainties don't exist; I'm suggesting that our pride too often carries us beyond what is essential and crosses the line of spiritual arrogance and blindness. And this lack of humility can keep us from seeing what God is doing right in front of us.
If you think it doesn't happen, just ask the chief priests who could not recognize the Truth that stood right in front of them.
Jesus made his point. These guys refused to acknowledge authority, even when it was clear. They could not see truth, even when it stood right in front of them. So really, there was no point in answering their question, because regardless of the answer, they would refuse to accept it. The chief priests would defend their position at all costs and against any argument. They were right, period, and no other possibility would be allowed.
It's interesting that in our debates and conflicts, we naturally assume that the other person must be the one who is misguided. Others are negatively shaped by their culture and experience; others water down the truth for the sake of personal convenience; others champion wrong interpretations, based on distorted perceptions and rewritten history. Blindness is always the other guy's problem, and we refuse to hear anything that would suggest otherwise. Desperately holding on to the notion that our understanding or interpretation of absolutely everything is absolutely correct, we reject all else as complete error. And those who happen to view things differently are, at best, dismissed as misguided souls or, at worst, rejected as heretics.
It's sad that the followers of Jesus spend so much time and energy arguing with one another, mostly over non-essential things. What makes it more devastating is our unwillingness to even acknowledge that our understanding might be imperfect. Rather than finding resolution by listening and learning from one another, we become more divisive and entrenched. Insistent that blindness and error must always rest on the other side of the issue, our opinions become convictions and our convictions become certainties. I'm not saying that convictions are wrong or that certainties don't exist; I'm suggesting that our pride too often carries us beyond what is essential and crosses the line of spiritual arrogance and blindness. And this lack of humility can keep us from seeing what God is doing right in front of us.
If you think it doesn't happen, just ask the chief priests who could not recognize the Truth that stood right in front of them.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Good Churches Gone Bad
As we make our way through the Lenten season, I have been reflecting on the final days leading up to Jesus' crucifixion. This morning - when I admittedly wasn't paying attention to the meeting I was in - I gave some thought to the encounter between an angry Jesus and the temple moneychangers. There was a time in my life when I really liked that story because it seemed like an easy defense and justification of my own occasional outbursts. I hope I've matured beyond that misguided notion. The reality is, this event was a vivid demonstration of Jesus' authority and a prophetic indictment of what the institutional religion had become.
One would certainly hope that religious leaders take seriously the call to come alongside others to serve, help, and encourage them in their walk with God. Unfortunately, that call was somehow lost in the religious machinery of Jerusalem. Through a corrupt system of currency exchange and sacrifice sales, those in power manipulated and distorted the system of temple worship into a self-serving mockery. Those who came to worship found themselves exploited, hindered, and abused for the sake of profit. The very things intended to bless and encourage people in their relationship with God were hijacked by insiders for a selfish purpose. It was religion gone bad, an ugly picture of self placed before God and others.
To assume that this episode has nothing to say to us, that somehow we are above the same temptations, is either arrogant or naive. We don't have to look far or hard to find a good church that has gone bad, a place of worship that has been taken captive by the selfish desires of those who believe they are in charge. Like moneychangers, they twist the church into an object of self-interest, serving the wishes and preferences of those inside while those outside are ignored or despised. The very community called to be an instrument of grace, connecting people with the God who loves them, can all too easily take a heartbreaking slide into self-absorbed isolation.
In this season of reflection, humility confronts us with the painful reality that those in the temple courts of Jerusalem were not the last to lose sight of their purpose and call. Sometimes the tables still need to be overturned.
One would certainly hope that religious leaders take seriously the call to come alongside others to serve, help, and encourage them in their walk with God. Unfortunately, that call was somehow lost in the religious machinery of Jerusalem. Through a corrupt system of currency exchange and sacrifice sales, those in power manipulated and distorted the system of temple worship into a self-serving mockery. Those who came to worship found themselves exploited, hindered, and abused for the sake of profit. The very things intended to bless and encourage people in their relationship with God were hijacked by insiders for a selfish purpose. It was religion gone bad, an ugly picture of self placed before God and others.
To assume that this episode has nothing to say to us, that somehow we are above the same temptations, is either arrogant or naive. We don't have to look far or hard to find a good church that has gone bad, a place of worship that has been taken captive by the selfish desires of those who believe they are in charge. Like moneychangers, they twist the church into an object of self-interest, serving the wishes and preferences of those inside while those outside are ignored or despised. The very community called to be an instrument of grace, connecting people with the God who loves them, can all too easily take a heartbreaking slide into self-absorbed isolation.
In this season of reflection, humility confronts us with the painful reality that those in the temple courts of Jerusalem were not the last to lose sight of their purpose and call. Sometimes the tables still need to be overturned.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Lessons From a "Lent-Free" Heritage
I don't remember hearing anything about Lent in my church when I was growing up. Now it's very possible that I simply wasn't paying attention - I've been known to do that - but honestly, I think Lent was something that was just not a part of our language or tradition. It was one of those practices we tended to identify with those "other" churches, the ones we viewed as being caught up in ritual and formality. As evangelicals in the holiness tradition, it wasn't our thing. So, most of the people I looked to in my formative years either didn't think about Lent at all or dismissed it as irrelevant. I now believe that I missed out on something all those years.
I have come to embrace the observance of the Lenten season as something beneficial and spiritually renewing. To set aside a period of time for fasting and spiritual reflection sharpens my focus and attention on the things of God's Kingdom, it brings a new awareness and sensitivity to the voice of the Spirit. As I move toward the celebration of Christ's resurrection, listening with deliberate intention, I am changed, seeing and understanding more of what it means to truly pick up the cross and be a follower of Jesus. Lenten practices have, for me, proven to be more than rituals or irrelevant traditions; they have become instruments of God's transforming grace.
I am not the only one in my tradition to have made this discovery. Many of our churches have found an appreciation for the Lenten season and have embraced it as a part of their worship and spiritual practice. Back when I was young (which is getting further away all the time), I had never heard of a Nazarene church holding an Ash Wednesday service. Now, I can name several that do so. Personally, I'm glad to see it.
My reflection on this has made it apparent to me once again that, sometimes, we end up cutting ourselves off from good and beneficial expressions of the faith simply because we think they belong to that "other" group. Churches naturally tend to emphasize their particular distinctive, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. There are theological and doctrinal differences that exist, and those should not be diminished or ignored. However, we can become so concerned about avoiding or countering the distinctive understandings of other traditions that we end up diminishing or neglecting significant aspects of Christian faith and practice.
While points of disagreement certainly do exist among the various traditions of the Church, our reaction to those disagreements has too often pushed us to reject too much. We have neglected various styles of worship, ignored certain spiritual disciplines, and even, at times, diminished the sacraments because we associate them with another tradition that has points of disagreement with our own. Yes, the points of disagreement matter, but so do the points of agreement. Certainly we can acknowledge both and learn from one another. For those in my church who start to get a little nervous with this kind of talk, let me remind you that the historical statement in the Manual of the Church of the Nazarene begins this way: The Church of the Nazarene, from its beginnings, has confessed itself to be a branch of the "one, holy, universal, and apostolic" church and has sought to be faithful to it. . . As its own people, it embraces the people of God through the ages, those redeemed through Jesus Christ in whatever expression of the one church they may be found.
May that be more than just words for us; may it be a truth revealed in our spirit and practice. Some things are not confined to the categories of Protestant, Catholic, Orthodox, Nazarene, Baptist, Pentecostal, Lutheran, mainline, evangelical, traditional, contemporary, and so on. Some things are just Christian, an expression of the "one, holy, universal, and apostolic" church. To lose them is to lose part of who we are, and we do so to our own detriment.
I have come to embrace the observance of the Lenten season as something beneficial and spiritually renewing. To set aside a period of time for fasting and spiritual reflection sharpens my focus and attention on the things of God's Kingdom, it brings a new awareness and sensitivity to the voice of the Spirit. As I move toward the celebration of Christ's resurrection, listening with deliberate intention, I am changed, seeing and understanding more of what it means to truly pick up the cross and be a follower of Jesus. Lenten practices have, for me, proven to be more than rituals or irrelevant traditions; they have become instruments of God's transforming grace.
I am not the only one in my tradition to have made this discovery. Many of our churches have found an appreciation for the Lenten season and have embraced it as a part of their worship and spiritual practice. Back when I was young (which is getting further away all the time), I had never heard of a Nazarene church holding an Ash Wednesday service. Now, I can name several that do so. Personally, I'm glad to see it.
My reflection on this has made it apparent to me once again that, sometimes, we end up cutting ourselves off from good and beneficial expressions of the faith simply because we think they belong to that "other" group. Churches naturally tend to emphasize their particular distinctive, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. There are theological and doctrinal differences that exist, and those should not be diminished or ignored. However, we can become so concerned about avoiding or countering the distinctive understandings of other traditions that we end up diminishing or neglecting significant aspects of Christian faith and practice.
While points of disagreement certainly do exist among the various traditions of the Church, our reaction to those disagreements has too often pushed us to reject too much. We have neglected various styles of worship, ignored certain spiritual disciplines, and even, at times, diminished the sacraments because we associate them with another tradition that has points of disagreement with our own. Yes, the points of disagreement matter, but so do the points of agreement. Certainly we can acknowledge both and learn from one another. For those in my church who start to get a little nervous with this kind of talk, let me remind you that the historical statement in the Manual of the Church of the Nazarene begins this way: The Church of the Nazarene, from its beginnings, has confessed itself to be a branch of the "one, holy, universal, and apostolic" church and has sought to be faithful to it. . . As its own people, it embraces the people of God through the ages, those redeemed through Jesus Christ in whatever expression of the one church they may be found.
May that be more than just words for us; may it be a truth revealed in our spirit and practice. Some things are not confined to the categories of Protestant, Catholic, Orthodox, Nazarene, Baptist, Pentecostal, Lutheran, mainline, evangelical, traditional, contemporary, and so on. Some things are just Christian, an expression of the "one, holy, universal, and apostolic" church. To lose them is to lose part of who we are, and we do so to our own detriment.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Leaving Gracefully
As a pastor, it always hurt when someone decided to leave the church. Even when they assured me that it was nothing "personal," I never seemed to have the ability to receive it that way. And of course, there were those times when it was truly "personal." Those encounters usually left me second-guessing myself and in a crisis of confidence for weeks. At the same time, I know it is a part of church life in this present reality. There will be times when someone decides that the best thing for them is to find another place to worship, connect, and serve. It may be a matter of style or personality, or it might be a different vision or understanding of what is needed. Whatever the reason, it happens. And despite the hurt I felt as a pastor, let me say this: I did come to appreciate those who knew how to leave gracefully.
Given a choice between the person who leaves and the one who stays just to be a pain in the rear end, determined to win at all costs, I have to choose the one who leaves. I can appreciate those who are more concerned about the welfare of the church than they are about winning the battle.
Given a choice between the person who disappears without warning and the one who discusses the issues with the pastor before making a decision, I will always take the one who is open and honest. I have to commend those who follow the Biblical directive for handling disagreement and demonstrate the courage and respect to speak with the pastor directly about their issues of concern.
Given a choice between the people who share their reasons for leaving only with those who truly need to know and the ones who broadcast their displeasure to anyone and everyone, I'll take the ones who know when not to speak. Unnecessarily drawing others into our personal issues of complaint will do nothing but spread dissension and disunity, compelling others to take sides.
Given a choice between people who truly leave and move on and those who leave, but continue to try and stir dissension at the church they left, I unquestionably opt for those who know how to let it go. I respect those who recognize that once they leave a church, they are no longer in a position to criticize or try and influence the direction of that church.
Given a choice between people who leave with a spirit of affirmation, love, and blessing, and those who stomp out in anger, bitterness, and the desire for retribution - well, the choice is pretty obvious if we're going to call ourselves followers of Jesus. And yes, it is possible to part ways with a genuine spirit of love, desiring and praying for God's blessing on one another.
I never wanted anyone to leave my church. Okay, there may have been moments when I wished some of them would go away, but in the end, it was a hurtful experience when someone actually left. I also know there will always be times, for a variety of reasons, when it happens. And when it does, all of us need to remember that the way of Jesus is not one of spreading hurt and destruction, but one of love and blessing. So pastor, when they say they are leaving, send them on their way with a genuine prayer for God's blessing. And on the other side, if you believe it is best for you to find another church, please do so with no desire or attempt to hurt and destroy. If you feel you must leave, then leave gracefully.
Given a choice between the person who leaves and the one who stays just to be a pain in the rear end, determined to win at all costs, I have to choose the one who leaves. I can appreciate those who are more concerned about the welfare of the church than they are about winning the battle.
Given a choice between the person who disappears without warning and the one who discusses the issues with the pastor before making a decision, I will always take the one who is open and honest. I have to commend those who follow the Biblical directive for handling disagreement and demonstrate the courage and respect to speak with the pastor directly about their issues of concern.
Given a choice between the people who share their reasons for leaving only with those who truly need to know and the ones who broadcast their displeasure to anyone and everyone, I'll take the ones who know when not to speak. Unnecessarily drawing others into our personal issues of complaint will do nothing but spread dissension and disunity, compelling others to take sides.
Given a choice between people who truly leave and move on and those who leave, but continue to try and stir dissension at the church they left, I unquestionably opt for those who know how to let it go. I respect those who recognize that once they leave a church, they are no longer in a position to criticize or try and influence the direction of that church.
Given a choice between people who leave with a spirit of affirmation, love, and blessing, and those who stomp out in anger, bitterness, and the desire for retribution - well, the choice is pretty obvious if we're going to call ourselves followers of Jesus. And yes, it is possible to part ways with a genuine spirit of love, desiring and praying for God's blessing on one another.
I never wanted anyone to leave my church. Okay, there may have been moments when I wished some of them would go away, but in the end, it was a hurtful experience when someone actually left. I also know there will always be times, for a variety of reasons, when it happens. And when it does, all of us need to remember that the way of Jesus is not one of spreading hurt and destruction, but one of love and blessing. So pastor, when they say they are leaving, send them on their way with a genuine prayer for God's blessing. And on the other side, if you believe it is best for you to find another church, please do so with no desire or attempt to hurt and destroy. If you feel you must leave, then leave gracefully.
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