Dead Man Walking

Over a year ago, I was unceremoniously forced to resign from my ministry at a church due to allegations that were entirely based in feelings rather than objective facts; this decision by the powers that be was also designed to ensure that they looked good down the road, rather than to protect anyone else involved. Given the way it was handled, I was not even allowed to say goodbye to almost everyone I had come to know and love. Although I had a few people reach out in the following days, it was often nothing more than a simple “praying for your family” with no genuine follow-up, though there were a couple precious saints who did actually communicate with me. Since that time, however, I noticed an interesting phenomenon.

I was truly a dead man walking in my community.

I don’t mean spiritually. I don’t mean physically.

Living as a Dead Man

I mean that for everyone remaining at the church, I had died. Life continued for them after my funeral; that is, my announced resignation. My supposed friends continued doing the same things that I’d been previously invited to, only now I was no longer invited to join. Lives that I’d been previously invested in both as a minister and as a friend continued on without a hint of concern that I still cared for these people.

After all, I was dead. Life had moved on without me.

Sure, there were those awkward moments when I would run into someone and they would say the perfunctory “we miss you” and “we are praying for you” but then nothing more. It was the old adage: out of sight out of mind. But for someone to tell me they still wanted to be friends but never follow that up with actions, well, there is another adage: actions speak louder than words.

I have tried to explain this phenomenon to a few people, but only two actually understood what I meant. For the rest, I was told that this thought was stupid because I was obviously not dead and simply overthinking things. Meanwhile, my former friend groups continued to hang out together, without including me. I even had one friend tell me that though they couldn’t quite explain it, our friendship had changed and they didn’t know why.

The why was easy. I was dead. When I was forced to resign, i.e., my funeral, the person I had been died. Life continued on without me. No problem.

Except I was alive.

Losing Everything

Please understand that I am grateful for the few friends I still have even if those friendships are “inexplicably different.” But, in the proceeding months, I had to wrestle with why anyone said they were my friend to begin with. In so doing, I have come to learn a cold, hard truth: most people say they are your friends simply because they see you on a regular basis. Whether it is work related, or just running in the same circles for a season, I was there and they are there and therefore we are all friends. But is that really a friendship?

The truth of the matter was in my death, I lost some very close friends for a myriad of reasons, but I lost so much more than that. I lost my church family. I lost my community. I lost my identity. That is what happens when you die. The strangest part is I was still very much alive, albeit beaten down. What is more, I was left to lead my family through this trial even though I was heartbroken as much, if not more, as they were.

For being a dead man, I was hurting in ways I did not know were possible. It was as though a divorce was thrust upon me and I had no ability to defend myself. Meanwhile, the few friends that remained did not understand why I couldn’t just smile and continue on in life. The only tangible thing that changed they said was my career. The truth was I had very few people I could turn to. Even less (were there any?) who would actually walk alongside me through this journey. Rather, it was mine alone to trek because it was awkward and difficult.

I fear many Christians experience this Living Death. Like me, I am sure most experience this in silence. They do not know who they can turn to because everyone has fled from them. Oftentimes, they suffer in silence because they are ashamed of the accusations or maybe the guilt from legitimately sinful behavior. Regardless, they wander around in a daze not knowing where to turn.

Peter’s Example

The Apostle Peter experienced something similar to being a walking dead man. In Matthew 26:69-75, we read that Peter was asked three times if he knew Jesus who was being held for judgment and execution. We are told that Peter denied knowing Jesus three times and then, after remembering Jesus’s prophecy, “went out and wept bitterly.” Peter is not mentioned as being present at the cross when Jesus was crucified. However, according to John 20, Mary Magdalene told Peter and “the other disciple” that Jesus’s body was taken, so they run to the tomb to find it empty. It is not until Jesus restores Peter (John 21:15-19) that Peter regains his confidence as a follower of Christ.

While I wish I could say that I have found my confidence like Peter did his, I can say that though I still wrestle with being a dead man walking in my community, I am confident that the Lord Jesus is still sovereign and on His throne. I am confident in my salvation. And though I have numerous unanswered questions, I continue to trust in my Lord and Savior.

Why write this?

I guess my reason for writing this is to try to articulate my own pain and thoughts, so that others might understand. But I think most importantly, I want to encourage fellow believers to do the hard work implied by Proverbs 18:17, “The one who states his case first seems right, until the other comes and examines him.”

In our social media, sound bite generation, it is easy to believe the shocking headline. It is hard to examine. Most Christians prefer to bury their head in the sand and pretend that everything is normal. The fact is, we live in a fallen world, and life is not always fun and easy, nor does life allow us to ignore the difficult and painful. Bearing one another’s burdens (Galatians 5:2) requires the hard work. Awkward conversations are not fun, but they are often necessary.

Meanwhile, whether it is due to allegations of feelings or actual sinful behavior, lives are irrevocably altered. How you respond to someone with whom you have a relationship in the immediate moments thereafter will have a far greater impact, for better or worse, than you can imagine.

It is hard enough to be ostracized based on allegations. It is even more difficult to be left mostly alone to pick up the pieces and pretend as though nothing has changed. It is even more difficult when your remaining friends are acting as though nothing has changed except they will not be seen in public with you because all of their other friends are at the church where you used to minister. Truly, it is only by the grace of God that one’s faith, my faith, remains strong. Sadly, it is not uncommon for someone who has been ostracized from a church for either their own sin, or the sin of others, to walk away from their faith.

James speaks clearly on the matter: “If anyone among you wanders from the truth and someone brings him back, let him know that whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins” (James 5:19-20). That is a hard conversation to be sure, but one that is worthwhile to the dead man walking in his own community.