Prodigal, Nomad, Exile: On Leaving the Church

I've written before about growing up evangelical.

When I first read an article entitled Three Spiritual Journeys of Millenials/Snake People, I thought, that's me! Or more accurately, that's me and my two siblings.

That's because of the three groups they identified--prodigals, nomads, and exiles, each of us fit into a different category:

My sister was the prodigal. 

My brother was the nomad.

I was the exile.

David Kinnaman of the Barna Group defines each category as follows:

Prodigal: "Prodigals are 18-29 year olds who have a Christian background but have lost their faith, describing themselves as 'no longer Christian.'"

Nomad: "Nomads are 18-29 year olds with a Christian background who have walked away from church engagement yet still consider themselves Christians."

Exile: "Exiles are 18-29 year olds who have a Christian background and are still invested in their Christian faith but feel stuck (or lost) between culture and the church." 

My brother, sister, and I are all very close in age--only two years between us.

We have a lot in common. We have the same parents. We were all raised within the same Christian family in the same Christian evangelical culture. We are all third culture kids. We are all children of divorce.

All of us professed the Christian faith as kids and into our teenage years. At the time I read this article my sister no longer went to church or considered herself a Christian. My brother had once been involved in his church but no longer attended and participated. And I was a hanger-on, never able to kick the church habit completely, attending sporadically during college and then immediately finding my church when I moved to Los Angeles.

Now, several years later, our roles have shifted yet again: My sister is still the prodigal. My brother attends church and small group regularly. I stopped going to church in the summer of last year and have yet to go back. 

So now it would be: 

Sister = Prodigal

Brother = Transcending the three categories

Me = Nomad

As I mentioned, there have been gaps in my church involvement before--but this time feels different.

The break from what had been my church wasn't even fully intentional--it was more an accident of circumstance than anything else.

But a profound fatigue seemed to set in every time I thought about looking for another church home. 

I know that at heart, I am not a nomad, but an exile. I cannot get away from church, any more than I can get away from the longing in my own heart to belong somewhere, anywhere. 

I've joked about simply skipping this entire "leaving evangelicalism" journey and going instant-Lutheran, à la Rachel Held Evans (I was wrong--she attends an Episcopal church). But in my heart I know that it is not that simple.

I have to first untangle myself from all the flotsam and jetsam of my evangelical upbringing--to, as my dad says, "Take the meat and leave the bones."

In order to come home, I must first leave home.

And as I'm realizing now, it took me a very long time to actually leave--I would rather stay as an exile than leave home and start the journey.

I lingered for too long. I stuck around, even when it hurt. I complained and fretted and criticized and contradicted and sniped. And I bled, oh how I bled, denying my own pain. But I didn't leave.

And there were reasons to leave. There are always reasons:

• Sexism (not that all Christians are sexist, but that I always feel like I'm having to fight this battle within what should be a safe space)
• The gap between what evangelical Christianity believes and my own shifting sociopolitical beliefs.
• My former church never talked about systematic racism or inequality. 
• The excruciating nature of church dating

But now, due to extenuating circumstances, I finally left. I think everyone was a bit relieved, including myself.

It's no coincidence that I am currently reading Henri Nouwen's The Return of the Prodigal Son.

Return of the Prodigal Son -  by Rembrandt  Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons

I'm sure there are some people who don't have to leave in order to return. I'm not sure if I'm one of them. I wish I'd left sooner, partially because everything in my life seems to take a really, really long time. I'm like the reverse-energizer-bunny, the sloth of spiritual and emotional growth:

That will be me in 50 years, trudging home, finally ready to return.

In the meantime, I have all kinds of questions and very few answers:

Am I leaving the evangelical world or merely reinventing and redefining my own faith?
How long is this going to take?
Will I ever feel at home at church?
Will I ever get over my past experiences with church?
Will I ever stop getting sucked into the Christian music nostalgia vortex on youtube?
How did I ever think Carman was cool?

I don't know what coming home will look like. I only know that I won't be the same.

More on the journey:

On Sincerity and Being Raised Evangelical
Why is Church Cliquey?
Why is Church Cliquey, Part 2
Why is Church Cliquey? Part 3
Why is Church Cliquey? Part 4