Longing for Family after Leaving the Indian Church

Photo by Mantas Hesthaven on Unsplash

Francis Chan grew disillusioned with the megachurch he pastored. While speaking to Facebook employees in 2017, Chan recalled the time a former gang member that he had baptized left his church. When asked why, the man said, "I just didn't understand church. I thought that when I got baptized, it was going to be like getting jumped into a gang, where the church would be like my family. I didn't realize that it was just showing up to a service on Sundays." Chan continued, "That makes me sick, that the gangs are a better picture of family than the church of Jesus Christ."¹

Isn’t the church supposed to be like family? The Bible is clear that our mothers, brothers, and sisters are those who do the will of God (Mark 3:33-35). That those who follow Jesus inherit not only salvation, but also a family in this age and in the age to come (Luke 18:29-30). Indeed, we see this promise fulfilled in the early church, as they lived sacrificially, referred to their communities as households, and related one another as family despite their cultural diversity.

However, this is far from what many experience in their local church. Leaders can teach that the church is a family, implement weekly meals to grow into this reality, and yet their church may still never live as one. This struggle is more pronounced for Indians in multiethnic churches because of how challenging it is to cultivate familial relationships with cultural differences. Although they long to experience the sense of family they had in the immigrant church, they also remember the reasons that led them to leave in the first place. They now wonder if the biblical vision of church as family is even possible anymore.

OBLIGATED BUT NOT HONEST

"They won't be there when you need help."

Every Indian who left the immigrant church heard this warning as they walked away. The implication was that the “American”² congregation may have better technology, professional musicians, and dynamic preaching, but only the Indian community would help amid crisis.

If you are in the hospital, Indians will crowd the waiting room. When a loved one dies, the entire community will weep together in your home that day. You can’t even travel to India without members of the church visiting you before your flight and praying for safe travel (and maybe sneak in a suitcase for you to take with you). There is a profound sense of obligation to one another. Perhaps it's because first generation Indians know that a true community relies on each other. Or, it's that interdependence is how they survived as they navigated life in a new country. There were deeply obligated to each other. But they weren’t always honest.

People rarely shared their challenges in marriage, in raising their children, in singleness, their addiction to food, sex, and alcohol, their struggle with doubt and depression. The resulting shame would threaten their place in the community. I am so grateful that this has changed in many Indian churches, and that they have created avenues for vulnerability. But for second generation Indian Americans who left 20 years ago, the church’s aversion to vulnerability is one of the reasons why. They wanted to be in a community where they could be human and gain direction for the challenges they faced without judgment. They experienced the church as a family that was obligated but they longed to be honest.

HONEST BUT NOT OBLIGATED

I was shocked in my first experience in an "American" church. People talked openly about their temptations and had accountability partners. Couples talked about the argument they had on the way to the gathering. Prayer requests were rarely unspoken. In fact, I had never seen Christians live so honestly and vulnerably before. But in many of these churches, that’s as far as they went.

In one of the churches I pastored, a couple admitted to leaving when, after not attending a gathering for several weeks, no one reached out to see if they were okay. A woman who shared deep family wounds was hurt when no one followed up with her. Prayer requests shared in group chats were met with silence. In other words, although people could be honest about their burdens, no one felt obligated to shoulder them.

I understand that this is anecdotal and reductionistic, but read any cultural analysis on secular societies and you'll discover an explanation for what I've described. Authenticity and autonomy are two of our highest values. We find it easier to be honest than obligated because honesty aligns with our desire for authenticity but obligation defies our desire for autonomy. Obligation impinges upon our independence and requires us to embrace vulnerability of another kind — the vulnerability we feel when our time, homes, and resources are open to the demands of love and needs of others.

In the end, the truth of our church’s religion and the closeness of our community is measured in our ability to care for widows and orphans, that is, in our ability to be a family for those who have none (James 1:27), when people who are vulnerable feel safe enough to be honest about their needs, and discover a community that loves them with a greater obligation than a gang. They discover that they are loved by the family of God.

What are ways to create a culture of honesty and obligation in your church?

---

Jason James oversees The Advance Initiative’s content and cohort. He coaches planters and pastors as a certified coach with City to City and Church Multiplication Ministries. He is also the pastor of New Hope Church in Harlem, NY.

1. https://www.christianpost.com/news/francis-chan-goes-into-detail-with-facebook-employees-on-why-he-left-his-megachurch.html

2. Although many of the Indians in the immigrant church were American citizens, they used “American” as a descriptor when referencing white or western culture.