What makes a church life-giving? And how do we know when we’re being shaped by one?
I’ve worked at five different churches over the past few decades. They’ve ranged from small and scrappy to mega-sized and polished. Denominational and non-denominational. Reformed and Arminian. Traditional and contemporary. Across all five, I’ve encountered the full spectrum of ministry and culture, ranging from deeply life-giving to soul-wrenchingly toxic.
Somewhere along the way, I started asking a different question. Not just “Is this a good church?” but something deeper: what kind of person is this church shaping me to be?
Because every church has a culture. And that culture forms you.
Some cultures help you flourish. Others wear you down.
Some call out and celebrate your gifts. Others force you into a one-size-fits-all mold.
Some build you into the image of Jesus. Others shape you into something else entirely; someone more guarded, more defensive, more performative.
I’ve experienced both kinds. And the truth is, none of these churches were all bad. And none of them were all good. They were all a mix of both. Just like me, just like you.
There was one church that gave me my first full-time role as a pastor. This season was filled with excitement and new beginnings. I had just gotten married, become a parent, and was handed the reins to shape ministry in ways I never had before. But that same church was also the place where I experienced my first major church hurt. The leadership culture was profoundly toxic. I knew early on that it wasn’t the kind of place I wanted to build a ministry or raise a family in. So, we left with no job lined up, no clear path forward, just a deep conviction that we couldn’t stay in a place that was choking the life out of us and forming us into a version of ourselves we didn’t recognize.
That led to a year of rest, during which I worked a “normal” job and spent time with my family, discerning what was next. We explored church planting, a door that eventually closed, but it still provided us with clarity on our path forward. Even in its no, that time was a gift.
Eventually, I joined the staff of another church, this time under someone I admired, someone who had once poured into my life. And it was there that I truly came into my own as a pastor. I began seminary. I found my voice as a preacher. I was entrusted with real pastoral responsibilities. I started unpacking my story and began reckoning with old wounds. But alongside that formation came personal pain. Pain in my marriage, in my inner life, in my unprocessed baggage. Unfortunately, I didn’t always handle it well. My pain bled into my family life and into my work. And eventually, a growing and seemingly sudden conflict led to a deeply painful departure from that church.
There was betrayal. There were lies. There was contempt directed at both my wife and me. I didn’t always respond the way I wish I had. If I could go back, I would have spoken up sooner. I would have led with more courage and humility. I would have protected my family more intentionally. I would have worked more faithfully, even when I felt overlooked, unappreciated, and too easily dismissed. I froze when I should have stepped in.
And yet God used it all.
He used the story work. He used the mistakes. He used the relationships that emerged from that season, particularly one couple who helped shape how we view healing and spiritual formation.
It was also through that season that I connected with a local network of pastors, which became a connection that eventually opened the door for me to serve where I am now.
The church I serve in today has been the most life-giving community I’ve ever been part of. But even as I say that, I want to be clear: this is not a fairy tale ending. This is not the chapter where everything becomes black-and-white, and I finally arrived at the good church. We still have work to do. I still have work to do. But it is good. It is healthy. And it is a gift.
What makes it different? For one, the culture is fought for. We fight to protect the church. Not the institution, but the people. When churches prioritize the institution or those in power, that’s when spiritual abuse runs rampant. That’s not what I am talking about. I am talking about protecting the people God has entrusted to us. We fight for our culture, and that is something that does not happen by accident. Our staff and elders work hard to protect what matters: humility, honesty, shared leadership, and clarity of vision. We name dysfunction when we see it and then work to address it head-on. We celebrate each other’s uniqueness. We value different gifts instead of trying to force everyone into the same mold.
And maybe most importantly, our leaders want more for people than from them. That has not always been my experience. I have had pastors who made me feel like a resource to be used, not a person to be loved. I have been told, “I don’t pay you to go to church; I pay you to work.” That kind of leadership leaves marks. Yet, it has also clarified what kind of leader I want to be. And not be.
Because every church forms something in us.
Every culture disciples. Every environment shapes.
Some churches have left me wounded. Others have made me more whole.
But the truth is, none of them were all bad. And none of them were all good.
There were toxic moments in the places I loved most.
And there were glimmers of grace in the places that broke me.
So maybe the question isn’t:
“Is this a good church or a bad one?”
Or even: “Is this the perfect church?”
Because lets be real, there isn’t one.
Maybe the question is deeper than that. Maybe this is a better question:
“Who am I becoming here?”
“Who does this church want me to be?”
Is it shaping me into someone more gracious? More humble? More connected to the grace of the Gospel? More like Jesus?
Or is it shaping me into someone more guarded? More performative? More consumeristic? More disillusioned?
Life-giving churches aren’t perfect. But they point you toward the right type of formation.
They invite you to become the kind of person who reflects the goodness of God.
And when you find a place like that, it’s a gift. And it’s a glimpse of what the Church can and should be.
Reflection Questions:
- Who am I becoming in my church, and is that person aligned with who I feel God is calling me to become?
- How has the culture of my church, both its strengths and weaknesses, formed me over time?
- Does my church experience lead me toward freedom in Christ or deeper fear and self-protection?
- How has my posture in church changed over time, and what does that reveal about my spiritual formation?
Leave a Reply