Seven Tough Questions the Church Should Ask Itself

A Deep Dive into Church Decline

Every time someone left my church, the pastor had a way of apportioning blame to the departed church member. When we had a staff meeting, he would often update us on people who had left the church by saying, “This person is looking for an excuse to sin” or “That person is backsliding.”

Such accusations were fairly common.

Under our pastor’s watch, the church had been in slow but steady decline. Older people were dying off, and younger people weren’t sticking around. And each departure seemed to be met with the same judgmental rhetoric.

Admittedly, the phenomenon of the slowly-dying church was not unique to our congregation. According to the Hartford Institute for Religion Research, the median church size in the USA today is merely 60 people.

Yes, you could fit the average congregation on a single bus.

So, when someone wants to get off the bus, I suppose it gets everyone’s attention. People start looking for reasons why. Yet, most often, the answers that people arrive at paint the former passenger as the villain, justify the status quo, and defend the church.

No one at the church ever seemed to pause long enough to take a good, long, hard look in the mirror. No one ever challenged the pastor’s narrative that said, “The people who are leaving are at fault!”

And maybe that’s why the church’s decline continues apace. Perhaps the reckoning that needs to happen will only happen when the church finally arrives at the point of no return. Perhaps the resurrection can only come after the death.

Perhaps it’s time for the church to engage in some deep soul-searching — to confront the uncomfortable truths that have been swept under the rug for too long. It’s time to stop pointing an accusatory finger at the people who are walking out the door and start asking ourselves some tough questions.

Let’s start with these seven.

1. What does the church exodus have to say to us?

Let’s start with the obvious question. The church ought to ask itself, “Why are so many people leaving?” It’s a statistical pattern that can’t be explained away by suggesting that a few bad apples have fallen from the tree. This is a widespread phenomenon, cutting across various denominations and geographic regions.

Let’s step back from the religious nature of the church as an organization and discuss what we know about why people leave organizations in general.

In a secular workplace, high employee turnover is almost always the result of a toxic workplace culture. People decide that the amount of monetary compensation they receive as a wage is no longer sufficient to keep them engaged in the workplace. They decide the pay-off is not worth the price they pay in other areas of their lives—their emotional, spiritual, and mental well-being, for example.

Now, let’s zero back into the church.

It’s reasonable to conclude that many of the same dynamics at play in secular organizations can also be observed within religious institutions. Just as in the workplace, people within the church may come to a point where they feel that the benefits of their involvement — whether spiritual growth, community support, or a sense of purpose — are outweighed by the negative aspects of their experience.

That leads us to the next question…

2. What is so bad about the church that people want to leave?

In a way, it wouldn’t be a bad thing for churches to hold “exit interviews” with departing congregants. In the absence of that, we have to turn to research. Bandon Flannery asked 1200 people why they had left the church and arrived at some interesting conclusions.

His survey revealed that the top reason that people leave the church initially was the church’s treatment of members of the LGBTQ community (21%). Another study by the Barna Group conducted among 16–29-year-olds asked non-Christians about their perception of Christians. The most common perception of Christians among non-believers is that Christians are anti-gay, with 91% of non-Christians saying they believe that Christians show excessive contempt and unloving attitudes towards the LGBTQ community and make homosexuality a bigger sin than anything else. I guess many church-goers have become uncomfortable being attached to an institution that is viewed in such a light.

The second most common reason that people gave for leaving the church was the behavior of believers (16%). In the same Barna research referenced above, 87% of those surveyed said Christians were judgmental, 85% said Christians were hypocritical, and 78% said Christians were out of touch.

These findings highlight a troubling reality within the church. There is a significant gap between the ideals it espouses and the behaviors of its members. As a case in point, when writing a letter to C.S. Lewis about potentially converting to Christianity, author Sheldon Vanauken wrote in his book A Severe Mercy:

“The best argument for Christianity is Christians: their joy, their certainty, their completeness. But the strongest argument against Christianity is also Christians — when they are somber and joyless, when they are self-righteous and smug in complacent consecration, when they are narrow and repressive, then Christianity dies a thousand deaths.”

Vanauken’s observation underscores the profound impact that believers’ behavior can have on people’s perceptions of Christianity and their decisions to leave the church.

3. If we really have the “Good News,” why are people leaving?

The kind of church that I grew up in prided itself on having what they called “The Good News.”

In my church, “The Good News” was that you and I were born as wicked sinners by nature and by choice and were, therefore, objects of wrath destined for the bowels of Hell. However, God, in his great mercy, sent his son, Jesus Christ, down to earth to take the punishment we deserved.

The church cannot seem to understand how some people — perhaps many people — may not actually perceive this as good news. After all, it does portray God the Father as some sort of temperamental deity in need of a punching bag, and His poor son ends up taking the brunt of His anger in a display of gratuitous bloodshed. It conveniently ignores the glaring question: Why on earth would the Almighty, who crafted the cosmos and established its rules, suddenly determine that even the tiniest transgression deserved death as payment? Couldn’t God have brainstormed a more creative solution — one that would be better news than the “Good News” we’ve come up with?

Imagine telling your friend that they’re born a sinner and are doomed to Hell unless they accept Jesus. It’s not exactly the feel-good message most people are looking for.

Nor is it necessarily true.

After all, penal substitutionary atonement theory (that’s the idea that Jesus died to satisfy the demands of divine justice and pay the penalty for human sin) is just one interpretation of the meaning of Jesus’ death. It was proffered by a group of intellectual heavyweights from the Reformation era, with none other than the illustrious John Calvin leading the charge. It certainly isn’t the only explanation of Jesus’s life and death. Prior to Calvin, there were other theological perspectives that emphasized different aspects of the crucifixion, such as Christus Victor (which focuses on Jesus’ victory over sin, death, and the powers of evil) or the moral influence theory (which emphasizes the moral example of Jesus’ self-sacrificial love).

Would the church be brave enough to ask the question: Is what we call “Good News” actually all that good? And if it’s not all that good, then what is good about Christianity?

4. Is the problem our message, the delivery of our message, or both?

But let’s assume for a moment that the idea of Jesus dying for our sins is the core message we want to convey. Then, the question then becomes: Is the problem with this message itself, or is it with how we’re presenting it to others? Or both?

I would suggest that using the threat of hell and eternal damnation is a terrible way to create long-lasting followers of Christ. Guilt-based religion and shame might keep people in line in the short term since shame can be a powerful motivator. But in the long run, it doesn’t really lead to any meaningful change. Instead, it can have some pretty negative consequences.

First off, when a religion relies on shame, it ends up making God look bad too. It’s like the church accidentally turns God into this grumpy, disapproving figure who’s always shaking his head at us. Even worse, it makes it seem like God only came to Earth and died for us because he had to, not because he really wanted to. So now, instead of seeing God as loving and merciful, we’re left with this image of him as someone who’s pretty hard to please.

This portrayal of God contradicts the very essence of unconditional love and mercy attributed to him by Jesus. It presents a paradox where the church preaches unconditional love while depicting God as conditional and exclusive in his affection. Consequently, it raises doubts about God’s character, making it difficult to take him seriously.

Sure, the crucifixion of Christ certainly wasn’t for nothing. However, if we’re not careful about how we present its significance, we risk distorting the message and turning people away from the faith. Instead of using fear and shame to coerce belief, perhaps we should focus on the exemplary life of Christ and how he points us to a God who loves us more than we could possible know or understand.

Maybe we should be trying to convince people to follow Christ because he is good, not because we are bad.

5. What was Jesus’s life really about?

Speaking of the exemplary life of Christ, I humbly suggest that returning to the practices and priorities of Jesus Christ can only help the church.

And what did Jesus really care about?

Early on in his ministry, Jesus attended a synagogue in his hometown of Nazareth. His reputation as a powerful and effective teacher and rabbi was spreading throughout the land. So, that day, Jesus was invited to get up and deliver a bible reading for that day — sort of like a special guest speaker.

The people ended up getting more than they bargained for. Jesus picked up a passage from the prophet Isaiah, which he would then explicitly attach to his own life as his own kind of personal mission statement. Jesus said:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free. He sent me to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Then Jesus rolled up the scroll, handed it back to the assistant, and sat down. Every eye in the place was on him, intent. Then he said, “You’ve just heard Scripture make history. It came true just now in this place.”

Make no mistake about it. Jesus was saying, “I am here to fulfill the prophecy of Isaiah. That’s my mission.” Of course, the people then tried to throw Jesus off a cliff, but he managed to give them the slip.

Regardless, you will notice the things that were not included in Jesus’s stated mission. He didn’t come to create a religion, build a religious institution, or create a Christian nation.

Instead, Jesus’s mission statement focused on bringing good news to the poor, freedom to the oppressed, and healing to the brokenhearted. In essence, Jesus was about compassion, justice, and liberation. He prioritized the marginalized and vulnerable, challenging societal norms and religious traditions that perpetuated inequality and exclusion. His ministry was marked by acts of love, mercy, and radical hospitality, inviting all to experience the abundant life offered through faith in God.

As the church grapples with its own challenges and shortcomings, returning to the core values and priorities of Jesus Christ can serve as a guiding light. Rather than being preoccupied with institutional concerns, ideological battles, or political agendas, the church ought to be asking itself, “What is it that Jesus came to do?”

6. Have we sold ourselves out to other gods?

One thing that Jesus didn’t come to do was create a Christian nation. Let’s face it. If Jesus wanted to create a “Christian” nation, he certainly could have done it. After all, wasn’t he the son of God? If Jesus wanted power, he could have had it. The fact that he didn’t come for a military or political purpose should speak volumes to us.

So, would the church be honest enough to look into the mirror and ask the question, “Have we allowed ourselves to be seduced by the allure of earthly power, forsaking the radical humility and sacrificial love exemplified by Jesus? Have we exchanged the pursuit of God’s kingdom for the trappings of political influence and control?”

It’s a sobering inquiry that demands introspection and soul-searching, but as followers of Christ, we must confront these uncomfortable truths with courage and humility. If Jesus never used force, then should we? If Jesus never sidled up to the rulers of the world to leverage his interests, then should we?

Could it be that some in the church have recognized the idolatry and fled?

7. What are we going to do about it?

The wisdom of the Dakota Indians says that if you find yourself flogging a dead horse, the best strategy is to dismount. However, it feels like the church is determined to flog the dead horse until it shows signs of life.

Fortunately, the Christian message is that death is not the end.

However, if we change nothing, we can expect more of the same. According to Pew Research, “religious nones” could make up as much as half the population by 2070.

Perhaps it’s time for a paradigm shift — a willingness to let go of outdated methods and embrace new ways of embodying the gospel message. Instead of clinging to the familiar comforts of tradition, we must be open to innovation and adaptation in our approach to ministry and outreach.

So, the biggest question for the church is this: What are we going to do about it? This is not the kind of issue that can be solved with better outreach programs, brighter lights, better music, or more charismatic leaders. It is a deep, systematic issue that requires the church to go back to the drawing board.

And who holds the drawing board?

Jesus holds the drawing board.

The Last Word

I want to go back and tell the pastor of my church to ditch the judgmental rhetoric and listen to the people. Every person who exits the church represents a story, a voice, and a unique perspective that the church would do well to listen to rather than dismiss.

It is time for the church to stop pretending that they are being unfairly persecuted and backed into a cultural corner, shed the cloak of victimhood, and confront its own failings with humility and courage.

It’s time to ask the tough questions.

Every single empty pew has something to say to us.

Dan Foster is the author of “Leaving Church, Finding God: Discovering Faith Beyond Organized Religion.”

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