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Leaving Christianity: Navigating Faith and Relationships when Beliefs Change

In recent years, an increasing number of people have been leaving the denominations in which they were raised—a phenomenon that I’ve found to be consistent across denominations. In 2019, I started taking notice of how often I heard stories of people leaving Christianity all together. The recent pandemic only exacerbated this trend. It has been a difficult time for many individuals and families; Christians have dealt with political division, issues of racial prejudice, and a general spirit of intolerance. In addition, the effects of illness, isolation, anxiety, and death, as well as the closure of face-to-face church services, allowed hurting members to fall between the cracks. If some were asking tough faith questions before 2020, the last few years only added to the fire.

In 2020, a good friend and colleague, LynnAnne Lowrie, and I decided to collaborate and research the phenomena of both deconstructing and reconstructing faith beliefs, as well as the decisions surrounding the choice to disaffiliate from Christianity. Along the way, we also connected with Tommy Lazo, a marriage and family therapy student here at Fuller, who has since graduated. As part of our research, we wanted to better understand the experiences of couples who shared a Christian faith when first married but who later developed differing views—namely, where one of the persons, in the process of deconstructing their belief system, chose to leave Christianity. We wanted to understand how they navigated this major shift, how their marriage was impacted, as well as the effects on their parenting.

As a clinician, I have begun to ponder to what extent therapists, the church, or even families are able to walk beside a questioning friend or loved one. I wonder how well we do in responding, when we, in our own anxiety and fear, perceive questions as dangerous or a risk to a person’s soul. I wonder how much a discipleship that encourages seeking would better help—instead of making sure we always have the “right,” but usually inadequate or unsatisfactory, answer to all the tough questions. As marriage and family therapists, Dr. Lowrie, Tommy Lazo, and I anticipate that those of us who work in the mental health field may see more and more families who struggle as one of their members goes through a faith crisis and who need guidance as they hope to provide loving support.

We concluded the interviews for a qualitative research study into the experience of leaving Christianity in January 2022. We interviewed ten volunteer participants, some who no longer identify themselves as Christians and some who were in the midst of deconstructing their faith beliefs. While we are still in the process of sifting through all the data, we are already observing similar themes emerging, giving us a fuller understanding of our participants’ deconstruction experience: All participants grew up going to church. They described church life as an all-encompassing culture that provided a comforting structure, a community to belong to, and a life perspective that gave meaning. Family involvement was an important part of each of the stories we heard. For many of the participants, contradictions between the teachings in Scripture and the corporate practice of those beliefs were not the direct reason for a crisis of faith; rather, frustrations began as a result of not experiencing permission to raise questions when teachings did not match life experience. Without a perceived safe place to turn within their family of origin or church family, many continued their search for answers in isolation.

The following is a narrative summary of Jeremiah’s (pseudonym) experience.

An Unraveling in Isolation

Jeremiah, a married, 30-something, heterosexual, White male “stopped believing” the teachings of Christianity approximately 12 years ago.1 Jeremiah describes what it “meant” to be a Christian in a rather holistic way. Growing up, the Christian story appealed to him. He enjoyed reading the Bible and felt a “soft spot” for the stories about the biblical prophet whose name Jeremiah shared. As an adolescent and young man, Jeremiah discovered the writings of C. S. Lewis and resonated with the ideas set forth by the atheist-turned-Christian. Being a Christian also meant having knowledge about biblical Scripture and the foundations of the religion. He also describes his interest in and acquisition of knowledge of Scripture and theology to have been largely self-directed. He took the initiative to read about and learn things outside of his time in church; such activities were not something forced upon him or overtly expected by his parents but freely chosen. This idea of being able to freely choose his own beliefs without undue influence from others, including family and his church community, is an ongoing theme that followed Jeremiah into adulthood.

Out of Jeremiah’s knowledge of Scripture and Christian beliefs came a moral code and an expectation to “behave in a way that reflected those beliefs” or to “do the right thing.” Being a Christian also included the spiritual discipline of regular prayer, something that Jeremiah did throughout his day. Talking to God reflected Jeremiah’s understanding that Christianity included a relationship with God.

Finally, Jeremiah’s parents always made sure the family attended church. Church attendance intersected with the relational component of Christianity, being part of the Christian community and family of God. Despite describing himself as “socially awkward” and being socially uncomfortable as a child, Jeremiah later found pleasure in the social activities of his adult church. He enjoyed Sunday school classes, small groups, and the communal practice of congregational singing.

Over time, however, Jeremiah’s childhood and adult experiences of Christianity began to flip. As a child, social situations were uncomfortable, yet Jeremiah felt drawn to the teachings of Christianity. As an adult, he greatly enjoyed the relational aspects of practicing the faith, yet he began to grow increasingly frustrated with some of the faith’s teachings.

When Jeremiah married, he joined his wife’s denomination. He greatly enjoyed the community of the church and described it as “the most Christian I’d ever really tried to be.” The group was more dogmatic in some of its teachings than churches Jeremiah had encountered before. He grew up attending multiple denominational churches, and described himself as having a more “fluid and open-minded” view of doctrine than his new church. While he enjoyed the relationships, activities, and communal worship practices, he also knew he wasn’t considered a Christian by some at this church because he had not been baptized according to the teachings of this group. He also grew frustrated with some of the “expectations” Christianity placed upon believers, particularly around areas in which science and Christian teachings, from his perspective, did not line up. His frustrations and questions fueled a season of questioning and inquiry that was not shared with church members or his wife. Ultimately, Jeremiah attributes some of the dogmatism to the change in belief he later experienced. His frustration with such things coincided with an introduction to other ways of conceptualizing the world.

During this time, Jeremiah met an atheist at work and became aware of online atheist groups. While he wasn’t convinced by their beliefs, he did gain a deeper understanding of them. Interestingly, the decisive point in Jeremiah’s journey away from Christianity was not a buy-in of an atheistic worldview; instead, it was the experience of reading a fictional description of the universe and reality. As he read, Jeremiah had a dawning realization that he didn’t believe any more strongly in Christian teachings regarding reality and the universe than he believed in this fictional account. It’s as if Jeremiah had quit believing in Christianity sometime before but had not yet come to accept that this was his new perspective until that moment. This experience shined a light onto a personal reality that had been hidden from everyone, even himself.

Jeremiah describes this realization as creating a lot of fear and uncertainty, and he felt his “relationship with reality” start to “unravel.” The most poignant example of this was in his practice of prayer. Prayer had been self-soothing and an effective form of self-care throughout his life. Recognizing he no longer believed in the Christian god forced him to confront that what he had believed to be making a difference in his life had never done so. He says, “It was very disconcerting. I don’t believe that that is anything that’s going to help me. So, what do I do?”

Jeremiah’s greatest fears centered on the impact his changing belief would have on his closest relationships, most of which were based on a shared understanding of Christianity. His deepest fear was connected to how his wife would handle this experience. This prompted him to keep his new beliefs a secret. But the fear of losing relationships and the resulting secrecy created a deep isolation in which he felt “completely alone”:

For those reasons, it became a secret, which is the worst thing because now you’re feeling scared and alone. You know your worldview is shifting a little bit and your experience of your day-to-day life is changing, and then now you also feel isolated, like you can’t just bring this to these people. At the very least, I didn’t feel like I could.

Jeremiah knew that others around him might believe that he could be talked into changing his mind. However, despite his fear and confusion about how to navigate life with this new belief system, once Jeremiah realized his belief system had changed, he knew he would not return to it. He recognized that this was difficult for those around him:

People did try and talk to me, like a couple of people at the request of my wife . . .  And I would talk to them, and we’d have some mutual respect and then kind of realize that there wasn’t really anything else to say.

Jeremiah reports that some relationships with family and friends remain awkward even many years later. It has been his experience that without shared belief, it is very difficult—though not impossible—to maintain a relationship with another person. A great strain was put on his relationship with his wife in particular. Jeremiah describes a time when there were feelings of strife, distrust, and betrayal. Now, in a follow-up conversation with both Jeremiah and his wife, Gail (also a pseudonym), it is obvious that they have a loving and nurturing marriage. They both experienced what Jeremiah calls an unraveling of reality as a part of their journey but found a way to love each other deeply, being respectful, and even supportive, of each other’s beliefs.

While some Christian practices have changed in Gail’s life, she maintains a strong faith. She credits the survival of their marriage to her prayer life, her Bible study, the supportive and loving relationships within her Christian community, and her and her husband’s desire to hold their family together. The couple is very honest about the hard journey they took to get from where they were 12 years ago to how they live and love each other today. Bible stories and prayer remain a part of their children’s lives. All four children have attended Christian preschool and Gail feels the freedom to nurture their faith in God. Jeremiah views the biblical story as useful to his children and is not bothered by the way his wife wants to raise them. Jeremiah’s desire is that their children know of his beliefs when appropriate and that they have an opportunity to choose for themselves what they want to believe.

What Active Discipling Might Look Like

Like many others, I have had conversations with people I love who were experiencing faith crises, and I felt a need to defend God or convince the other person toward “truth.” While I knew, as a clinician, that it would be better to listen and support, I found myself tempted to provide my knowledge of Scripture before making sure they received my compassion. I have also served as a leader in my church, and I have wrestled with what it means to disciple someone both in times of thriving and times of spiritual struggle. After this two-year study and after sifting through all our research data, I have come away with a different definition of what it means to actively disciple someone who is in the midst of deconstructing their faith. Families are experiencing this all around us, and the families I have talked with all seem to be on a journey of trying to figure out what their responsibilities as Christians should be to their questioning spouses, children, brothers, sisters, and friends. I believe that, when motivated more by love than by fear, families can be more present and helpful to the suffering seeker, the frustrated questioner, and the morally injured.

Gail’s story and others like hers can teach us about how families can be present to those going through a deconstruction. Gail saw Jeremiah as a whole person who was more than his nontheist beliefs. She experienced her husband as a loving man who was gentle with her, hardworking, kind to others, moral, and a good father. She had always been drawn to him because of how brilliant of a man he was. Initially, it was easier to just be mad at what seemed to be a violation of their marriage, or to placate in silence and maintain the status quo. But over time, Gail realized that she and Jeremiah had to find a way to work through the chaos these new differences generated.

While it was difficult not to react out of fear when their Christian marriage seemed threatened, Gail honored her own experience by communicating her thoughts and feelings, but in ways that also honored her husband’s gifts, strengths, thoughts, and feelings. Many tears were shed, but Gail arrived at the transformative idea that it was the Holy Spirit’s job to do any convicting needed, not hers. Gail’s mindset differed from other family members we heard about. She does her best to create safe places in the home where the family can thrive, and where Jeremiah does not feel judged. Gail has integrated new ways of being Christian in this world. In a new status quo, Gail continues to live rooted in her faith. If she teaches the gospel in her home, it is mostly through example. She actively disciples her children and models how to love others daily. She loves others, and she deeply loves her husband. She cultivates a space where questions are allowed, and conversations are invited. Giving Jeremiah the ability to remain connected and have a sense of belonging in his home has become central to the family cohesiveness.

At the recent 2023 Integration Symposium hosted by the School of Psychology & Marriage and Family Therapy at Fuller, keynote speaker Julie J. Exline highlighted ways churches and families can walk with loved ones experiencing spiritual struggles. Her observations parallel what we are finding in our research. Dr. Exline shared the following:

  1. It is important to provide a safe space for those who are in spiritual crisis. People need to know that spiritual struggles are common and that anger at God may arise as a part of their struggle. Anger at God or questioning of God should not be met with reactive fear. Questions should be welcomed, and anger will only result in a person experiencing isolation and shame for their experience. Her research suggests that supportive responses are associated with more approach behaviors toward God and a strengthening of faith.
  2. We need to be wary of “the quick fix.” The things that seem to bring us comfort may not be the things that comfort others. When we don’t know what to say, or when we want to provide “the right answer,” we can easily impose our own theological assumptions. The more helpful approach is communicating simple compassion and acceptance.
  3. It is also helpful to encourage private exploration of struggles. Many individuals find it helpful to have the freedom to engage experiential practices, such as meditation, reading sacred texts or laments, writing a letter to God, journaling, and other creative expressions.
  4. When an individual feels safe enough, and without sidestepping pain and distress, those who are actively discipling should aim toward wholeness, integration, and connection. For a spiritual struggle to be a growth experience, we must curiously look for what is life-giving. Those who wish to be helpful can seek growth, meaning making, and gratitude in the midst of pain and struggle.

This article is not meant to suggest definitive answers but rather highlight stories that are unfolding all around us and provide suggestions for how to respond in love. Families and individuals are hurting and asking big and challenging questions. Sometimes they are brave enough to ask their questions out loud. Sometimes people in our midst are struggling alone. Many spouses, parents, friends, therapists, Bible professors, and church leaders want to be more helpful (or non-injuring) when a Christian they love is struggling with their faith beliefs. I hope when our analysis is complete, the results of our research will be a helpful resource for these family members and friends, and ultimately help those who have real questions about God to feel less isolated, misunderstood, and hopeless. For now, I invite you, the reader, to sit a while with your own thoughts and reflect on what went on within you as you read Jeremiah’s narrative and Gail’s response. Take notice of your feelings of compassion, but also of any assumptions or judgments. Think through the “answers” that came up for you as you may have inevitably problem-solved during your reading. If you are a church leader, you may have had thoughts about how you would want to have engaged Jeremiah and Gail if they were a part of your flock. Families like Jeremiah and Gail’s are all around us—all in differing stages of their journey. How we engage them can either reflect our fear or reflect God’s love.

Written By

Michael Hardin is professor of marriage and family therapy. He came to Fuller in 2020 with 16 years of teaching experience and over 22 years of experience counseling couples, families, and individuals. Dr. Hardin has partnered with churches by leading marriage retreats and marriage seminars for the past 15 years. As his clinical concentration has grown toward couple work, his research interests have developed to explore a need for ongoing sex education for married couples, as well as the impact on marriage when one in the couple leaves the Christian faith. He is a licensed marriage and family therapist (LMFT) in California and Texas and a Certified Family Life Educator (CFLE). He is the founder and director of LIVeConnected Relational Therapy, where he maintains a private practice.

In recent years, an increasing number of people have been leaving the denominations in which they were raised—a phenomenon that I’ve found to be consistent across denominations. In 2019, I started taking notice of how often I heard stories of people leaving Christianity all together. The recent pandemic only exacerbated this trend. It has been a difficult time for many individuals and families; Christians have dealt with political division, issues of racial prejudice, and a general spirit of intolerance. In addition, the effects of illness, isolation, anxiety, and death, as well as the closure of face-to-face church services, allowed hurting members to fall between the cracks. If some were asking tough faith questions before 2020, the last few years only added to the fire.

In 2020, a good friend and colleague, LynnAnne Lowrie, and I decided to collaborate and research the phenomena of both deconstructing and reconstructing faith beliefs, as well as the decisions surrounding the choice to disaffiliate from Christianity. Along the way, we also connected with Tommy Lazo, a marriage and family therapy student here at Fuller, who has since graduated. As part of our research, we wanted to better understand the experiences of couples who shared a Christian faith when first married but who later developed differing views—namely, where one of the persons, in the process of deconstructing their belief system, chose to leave Christianity. We wanted to understand how they navigated this major shift, how their marriage was impacted, as well as the effects on their parenting.

As a clinician, I have begun to ponder to what extent therapists, the church, or even families are able to walk beside a questioning friend or loved one. I wonder how well we do in responding, when we, in our own anxiety and fear, perceive questions as dangerous or a risk to a person’s soul. I wonder how much a discipleship that encourages seeking would better help—instead of making sure we always have the “right,” but usually inadequate or unsatisfactory, answer to all the tough questions. As marriage and family therapists, Dr. Lowrie, Tommy Lazo, and I anticipate that those of us who work in the mental health field may see more and more families who struggle as one of their members goes through a faith crisis and who need guidance as they hope to provide loving support.

We concluded the interviews for a qualitative research study into the experience of leaving Christianity in January 2022. We interviewed ten volunteer participants, some who no longer identify themselves as Christians and some who were in the midst of deconstructing their faith beliefs. While we are still in the process of sifting through all the data, we are already observing similar themes emerging, giving us a fuller understanding of our participants’ deconstruction experience: All participants grew up going to church. They described church life as an all-encompassing culture that provided a comforting structure, a community to belong to, and a life perspective that gave meaning. Family involvement was an important part of each of the stories we heard. For many of the participants, contradictions between the teachings in Scripture and the corporate practice of those beliefs were not the direct reason for a crisis of faith; rather, frustrations began as a result of not experiencing permission to raise questions when teachings did not match life experience. Without a perceived safe place to turn within their family of origin or church family, many continued their search for answers in isolation.

The following is a narrative summary of Jeremiah’s (pseudonym) experience.

An Unraveling in Isolation

Jeremiah, a married, 30-something, heterosexual, White male “stopped believing” the teachings of Christianity approximately 12 years ago.1 Jeremiah describes what it “meant” to be a Christian in a rather holistic way. Growing up, the Christian story appealed to him. He enjoyed reading the Bible and felt a “soft spot” for the stories about the biblical prophet whose name Jeremiah shared. As an adolescent and young man, Jeremiah discovered the writings of C. S. Lewis and resonated with the ideas set forth by the atheist-turned-Christian. Being a Christian also meant having knowledge about biblical Scripture and the foundations of the religion. He also describes his interest in and acquisition of knowledge of Scripture and theology to have been largely self-directed. He took the initiative to read about and learn things outside of his time in church; such activities were not something forced upon him or overtly expected by his parents but freely chosen. This idea of being able to freely choose his own beliefs without undue influence from others, including family and his church community, is an ongoing theme that followed Jeremiah into adulthood.

Out of Jeremiah’s knowledge of Scripture and Christian beliefs came a moral code and an expectation to “behave in a way that reflected those beliefs” or to “do the right thing.” Being a Christian also included the spiritual discipline of regular prayer, something that Jeremiah did throughout his day. Talking to God reflected Jeremiah’s understanding that Christianity included a relationship with God.

Finally, Jeremiah’s parents always made sure the family attended church. Church attendance intersected with the relational component of Christianity, being part of the Christian community and family of God. Despite describing himself as “socially awkward” and being socially uncomfortable as a child, Jeremiah later found pleasure in the social activities of his adult church. He enjoyed Sunday school classes, small groups, and the communal practice of congregational singing.

Over time, however, Jeremiah’s childhood and adult experiences of Christianity began to flip. As a child, social situations were uncomfortable, yet Jeremiah felt drawn to the teachings of Christianity. As an adult, he greatly enjoyed the relational aspects of practicing the faith, yet he began to grow increasingly frustrated with some of the faith’s teachings.

When Jeremiah married, he joined his wife’s denomination. He greatly enjoyed the community of the church and described it as “the most Christian I’d ever really tried to be.” The group was more dogmatic in some of its teachings than churches Jeremiah had encountered before. He grew up attending multiple denominational churches, and described himself as having a more “fluid and open-minded” view of doctrine than his new church. While he enjoyed the relationships, activities, and communal worship practices, he also knew he wasn’t considered a Christian by some at this church because he had not been baptized according to the teachings of this group. He also grew frustrated with some of the “expectations” Christianity placed upon believers, particularly around areas in which science and Christian teachings, from his perspective, did not line up. His frustrations and questions fueled a season of questioning and inquiry that was not shared with church members or his wife. Ultimately, Jeremiah attributes some of the dogmatism to the change in belief he later experienced. His frustration with such things coincided with an introduction to other ways of conceptualizing the world.

During this time, Jeremiah met an atheist at work and became aware of online atheist groups. While he wasn’t convinced by their beliefs, he did gain a deeper understanding of them. Interestingly, the decisive point in Jeremiah’s journey away from Christianity was not a buy-in of an atheistic worldview; instead, it was the experience of reading a fictional description of the universe and reality. As he read, Jeremiah had a dawning realization that he didn’t believe any more strongly in Christian teachings regarding reality and the universe than he believed in this fictional account. It’s as if Jeremiah had quit believing in Christianity sometime before but had not yet come to accept that this was his new perspective until that moment. This experience shined a light onto a personal reality that had been hidden from everyone, even himself.

Jeremiah describes this realization as creating a lot of fear and uncertainty, and he felt his “relationship with reality” start to “unravel.” The most poignant example of this was in his practice of prayer. Prayer had been self-soothing and an effective form of self-care throughout his life. Recognizing he no longer believed in the Christian god forced him to confront that what he had believed to be making a difference in his life had never done so. He says, “It was very disconcerting. I don’t believe that that is anything that’s going to help me. So, what do I do?”

Jeremiah’s greatest fears centered on the impact his changing belief would have on his closest relationships, most of which were based on a shared understanding of Christianity. His deepest fear was connected to how his wife would handle this experience. This prompted him to keep his new beliefs a secret. But the fear of losing relationships and the resulting secrecy created a deep isolation in which he felt “completely alone”:

For those reasons, it became a secret, which is the worst thing because now you’re feeling scared and alone. You know your worldview is shifting a little bit and your experience of your day-to-day life is changing, and then now you also feel isolated, like you can’t just bring this to these people. At the very least, I didn’t feel like I could.

Jeremiah knew that others around him might believe that he could be talked into changing his mind. However, despite his fear and confusion about how to navigate life with this new belief system, once Jeremiah realized his belief system had changed, he knew he would not return to it. He recognized that this was difficult for those around him:

People did try and talk to me, like a couple of people at the request of my wife . . .  And I would talk to them, and we’d have some mutual respect and then kind of realize that there wasn’t really anything else to say.

Jeremiah reports that some relationships with family and friends remain awkward even many years later. It has been his experience that without shared belief, it is very difficult—though not impossible—to maintain a relationship with another person. A great strain was put on his relationship with his wife in particular. Jeremiah describes a time when there were feelings of strife, distrust, and betrayal. Now, in a follow-up conversation with both Jeremiah and his wife, Gail (also a pseudonym), it is obvious that they have a loving and nurturing marriage. They both experienced what Jeremiah calls an unraveling of reality as a part of their journey but found a way to love each other deeply, being respectful, and even supportive, of each other’s beliefs.

While some Christian practices have changed in Gail’s life, she maintains a strong faith. She credits the survival of their marriage to her prayer life, her Bible study, the supportive and loving relationships within her Christian community, and her and her husband’s desire to hold their family together. The couple is very honest about the hard journey they took to get from where they were 12 years ago to how they live and love each other today. Bible stories and prayer remain a part of their children’s lives. All four children have attended Christian preschool and Gail feels the freedom to nurture their faith in God. Jeremiah views the biblical story as useful to his children and is not bothered by the way his wife wants to raise them. Jeremiah’s desire is that their children know of his beliefs when appropriate and that they have an opportunity to choose for themselves what they want to believe.

What Active Discipling Might Look Like

Like many others, I have had conversations with people I love who were experiencing faith crises, and I felt a need to defend God or convince the other person toward “truth.” While I knew, as a clinician, that it would be better to listen and support, I found myself tempted to provide my knowledge of Scripture before making sure they received my compassion. I have also served as a leader in my church, and I have wrestled with what it means to disciple someone both in times of thriving and times of spiritual struggle. After this two-year study and after sifting through all our research data, I have come away with a different definition of what it means to actively disciple someone who is in the midst of deconstructing their faith. Families are experiencing this all around us, and the families I have talked with all seem to be on a journey of trying to figure out what their responsibilities as Christians should be to their questioning spouses, children, brothers, sisters, and friends. I believe that, when motivated more by love than by fear, families can be more present and helpful to the suffering seeker, the frustrated questioner, and the morally injured.

Gail’s story and others like hers can teach us about how families can be present to those going through a deconstruction. Gail saw Jeremiah as a whole person who was more than his nontheist beliefs. She experienced her husband as a loving man who was gentle with her, hardworking, kind to others, moral, and a good father. She had always been drawn to him because of how brilliant of a man he was. Initially, it was easier to just be mad at what seemed to be a violation of their marriage, or to placate in silence and maintain the status quo. But over time, Gail realized that she and Jeremiah had to find a way to work through the chaos these new differences generated.

While it was difficult not to react out of fear when their Christian marriage seemed threatened, Gail honored her own experience by communicating her thoughts and feelings, but in ways that also honored her husband’s gifts, strengths, thoughts, and feelings. Many tears were shed, but Gail arrived at the transformative idea that it was the Holy Spirit’s job to do any convicting needed, not hers. Gail’s mindset differed from other family members we heard about. She does her best to create safe places in the home where the family can thrive, and where Jeremiah does not feel judged. Gail has integrated new ways of being Christian in this world. In a new status quo, Gail continues to live rooted in her faith. If she teaches the gospel in her home, it is mostly through example. She actively disciples her children and models how to love others daily. She loves others, and she deeply loves her husband. She cultivates a space where questions are allowed, and conversations are invited. Giving Jeremiah the ability to remain connected and have a sense of belonging in his home has become central to the family cohesiveness.

At the recent 2023 Integration Symposium hosted by the School of Psychology & Marriage and Family Therapy at Fuller, keynote speaker Julie J. Exline highlighted ways churches and families can walk with loved ones experiencing spiritual struggles. Her observations parallel what we are finding in our research. Dr. Exline shared the following:

  1. It is important to provide a safe space for those who are in spiritual crisis. People need to know that spiritual struggles are common and that anger at God may arise as a part of their struggle. Anger at God or questioning of God should not be met with reactive fear. Questions should be welcomed, and anger will only result in a person experiencing isolation and shame for their experience. Her research suggests that supportive responses are associated with more approach behaviors toward God and a strengthening of faith.
  2. We need to be wary of “the quick fix.” The things that seem to bring us comfort may not be the things that comfort others. When we don’t know what to say, or when we want to provide “the right answer,” we can easily impose our own theological assumptions. The more helpful approach is communicating simple compassion and acceptance.
  3. It is also helpful to encourage private exploration of struggles. Many individuals find it helpful to have the freedom to engage experiential practices, such as meditation, reading sacred texts or laments, writing a letter to God, journaling, and other creative expressions.
  4. When an individual feels safe enough, and without sidestepping pain and distress, those who are actively discipling should aim toward wholeness, integration, and connection. For a spiritual struggle to be a growth experience, we must curiously look for what is life-giving. Those who wish to be helpful can seek growth, meaning making, and gratitude in the midst of pain and struggle.

This article is not meant to suggest definitive answers but rather highlight stories that are unfolding all around us and provide suggestions for how to respond in love. Families and individuals are hurting and asking big and challenging questions. Sometimes they are brave enough to ask their questions out loud. Sometimes people in our midst are struggling alone. Many spouses, parents, friends, therapists, Bible professors, and church leaders want to be more helpful (or non-injuring) when a Christian they love is struggling with their faith beliefs. I hope when our analysis is complete, the results of our research will be a helpful resource for these family members and friends, and ultimately help those who have real questions about God to feel less isolated, misunderstood, and hopeless. For now, I invite you, the reader, to sit a while with your own thoughts and reflect on what went on within you as you read Jeremiah’s narrative and Gail’s response. Take notice of your feelings of compassion, but also of any assumptions or judgments. Think through the “answers” that came up for you as you may have inevitably problem-solved during your reading. If you are a church leader, you may have had thoughts about how you would want to have engaged Jeremiah and Gail if they were a part of your flock. Families like Jeremiah and Gail’s are all around us—all in differing stages of their journey. How we engage them can either reflect our fear or reflect God’s love.

Michael Hardin

Michael Hardin is professor of marriage and family therapy. He came to Fuller in 2020 with 16 years of teaching experience and over 22 years of experience counseling couples, families, and individuals. Dr. Hardin has partnered with churches by leading marriage retreats and marriage seminars for the past 15 years. As his clinical concentration has grown toward couple work, his research interests have developed to explore a need for ongoing sex education for married couples, as well as the impact on marriage when one in the couple leaves the Christian faith. He is a licensed marriage and family therapist (LMFT) in California and Texas and a Certified Family Life Educator (CFLE). He is the founder and director of LIVeConnected Relational Therapy, where he maintains a private practice.

Originally published

June 22, 2023

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