Not Church Hurt—Church Shattered

This Wasn’t Just Imperfection—It Was Systemic Spiritual Harm.

There’s a certain level of loneliness that we ex-2x2 people experience when trying to find a new church community. Maybe I feel this way because I am only a little over a year out, and I may feel differently with more time and healing.

But we’re a very unique group of people with a unique set of circumstances that have brought us to this place. It’s unlike anything most church-goers are familiar with. In fact, I have not met one person in the Christian community who can understand on the same level that another ex-2x2 person gets it. Their not fully understanding is granted in many respects, but I bet church-goers who have left a “normal” church can find others in the Christian community who they can connect with about why they left their original church, usually doctrinal issues or people issues.

I have this deep desire to be understood and have my experiences validated, and I think this is because I am in a place of healing. I’ve tried to share my concerns about being a part of a new church community, my fears, and what’s holding me back—and it was largely ignored. This was a final straw that made me step back from a church—because without being validated in my experiences and feelings, I did not feel emotionally safe and knew that without that safety, I would never be able to heal in community because I lacked trust.

And I get it. We ex-2x2ers are a special kind of “messed up,” and traumatized by spiritual communities, and (in my experience) most people just don’t understand. When having conversations with people about the 2x2 experience, most people just call it “church hurt,” and say that there is no perfect church, and people are human.

I 100% agree with those statements, but they just don’t apply to this one at all. What happened to us was far beyond being “offended” by our brother. Instead, it was a systemic breach of trust and a horrible betrayal of a spiritual community that we felt was family.

If I were going to leave the 2x2 church because of being offended, I would have done that a long, long time ago. I understood that people weren’t perfect, and I didn’t let that get in the way of my relationship with God. I overlooked a ton in the community because of this. In fact, I’ve said for a long time that if it hadn’t been for a healthy home and good parents, I would have never been professing (an official member of the 2x2 church)—if I had based it on the community. But I professed at almost 18 years old and did so until last year—21 years—despite “offense,” because I do feel like I have wisdom in that respect.

However, we left the 2x2 church when rampant child sexual abuse, adult sexual abuse, power abuse, and criminal activity were revealed—crimes that leadership swept under the rug. We left when we saw irreparable cracks in the doctrinal foundation of the group, things that do not align with scripture.

So what makes leaving the 2x2 church so much different than leaving a “normal” church, and why doesn’t the Christian community at large understand our pain and fears? I believe it boils down to exclusivity, culture, and community.

Exclusivity

When most people leave a church, they’ll simply go to another one—no problem. Sometimes, their current church even holds a ceremony thanking them for being a part of their community and wishes them the best in their ongoing faith journey.

But when you leave the 2x2 church, most people within the group think you’re going to hell. In fact, when we told people we were leaving, some responded in kind—”Sorry to hear you’ve lost out,” and similar statements. “Lost out” refers to being denied salvation or a saved eternity.

So, leaving the 2x2 church is extremely hard. We have been indoctrinated that it is the one and only way to heaven, that all other Christians are essentially not saved. We within the 2x2 church are God’s people—no one else is. Imagine leaving a group that you fully believed was the only way to heaven and a saved eternity—that’s a huge step of faith and very scary.

The exclusivity belief also makes attending another church terrifying for many people. The first time I was in a church, dropping my daughter off at a Vacation Bible Camp last summer, I sat in the back of the church to watch, because I was scared to leave her there. And I sat there in the pews and quietly wept. Heartbroken and terrified, but taking a step in faith. It did turn out to be a wonderful experience for her, but so, so different than what I ever experienced as a child.

It took time for me to lose this fear of church. And soon, my tears turned to something else. I realized how much I had missed out on all of my life by being told that the 2x2 churchgoers were the only safe people spiritually. The church had a beautiful group of loving people who loved God with all their hearts. And there was great joy. My tears became tears of pain and betrayal, and thankfulness for having been led out of exclusivity.

Culture & Community

The second factor that makes the 2x2 church experience so distinct is its culture and community, and I believe these elements go hand in hand. There are horrible cultural problems within this group. I’ve written about these extensively: from the sneaky people who gossip constantly, to the hierarchy of the friends and workers, and appearances over righteousness, this group is toxic for anyone who is not higher up in the hierarchy.

But at the same time, you’re taught to believe that it’s the best group of people in the entire world. We’re a people set apart. We’re God’s family. We hear all about comments “outsiders” make about how different this group is, how kind and loving they are, even though in my experience, they generally were not. But somehow, I believed that it was still the best group of people.

There’s a utopian vibe about it all—I honestly did think it was the perfect community overall. I believed that the people were good, that workers were holy, and that everyone was trying as hard as I was to be right before God. This was a lie. There are many, many people just like me who were working hard toward salvation, while many, many others were criminals, rapists, gaslighters, and just horrible people in general.

They hid it well. Some of those in the ministry could rape someone one moment and speak about purity on the platform in front of hundreds of congregants moments later. This is a special kind of evil, and it was able to lurk within the trusting people in the 2x2 church, unnnoticed, and when it was brought into the light—the large majority didn’t believe it (many still don’t).

I liken leaving the 2x2 church as to a member of the Amish community leaving the Amish. There’s shunning, separation, and you lose the love of people you thought were like family. You don’t think it will happen, but it does. And it’s one of the most heartbreaking things about leaving the 2x2 church. I would go as far as to say that everyone who leaves loses their community, and most likely loses some family because of it.

Not only are you judged as a lost soul, but you’re also now viewed as poisonous and dangerous. I’ve even heard people say that Satan is using those of us who have left to make others lose out on eternity. Ministers and friends alike are preaching that they must be very, very careful not to lose their salvation, encouraging separation from family and friends because of a difference in beliefs.

Unwritten rules and expectations become a means to judge others and exert power. No one feels this as deeply as the women within the group who are the bearers of nearly every single rule in the church. Appearance is everything.

All of these factors add up to a general culture of sneakiness and duplicity. Many people are not the same people in public (outside of the group) as they are on Sunday morning when meeting with other 2x2 church-goers. They morph themselves into the acceptable 2x2 church goer when they're amongst the congregants, and into a "normal" person in public. The culture makes it so.

Evil Left Unchecked

One of the worst realizations is coming to terms with the fact that the ministry you trusted so much was actively hurting innocent people, or hiding the crimes of others for the sake of image. Evil left unchecked was allowed to thrive in the dark.

Evil wasn’t just in what was done—it was what was ignored. Reports dismissed. Victims silenced or excommunicated. Whispers are labeled as gossip instead of warning cries. The ministry held itself above question, protected by a culture that equates doubt with a lack of faith.

Leaving the 2x2 church isn’t just leaving a church. It’s leaving everything you’ve ever known. Many of us have come from families within the church for generations. For me, it was four generations on one side. It’s losing your worldview. It’s losing trust in humanity. When you leave, you’re often starting from scratch—not just with faith, but with relationships, community, and your sense of identity.

So Where Do We Go From Here?

This is a question I’m still sitting with. I don’t have an answer, but I can share my experience so far.

My experience can be aptly described as rebuilding. Rebuilding my faith on a Biblical foundation, carefully selecting new people in my life, and trying to figure out what “church” will look like for us.

Right now, that means a period of rest. Of meeting God in the quiet moments at home, of prayer for direction, and for developing a better sense of spirituality over religiosity.

I’m taking it one day at a time. Step by step. Every bit of it in faith.

But I know I’m not alone. I’m thankful every day for the community that I have with other ex-2x2ers. I have a special group of people who have been my lifeline. I trust them. They get me and I get them.

There is a growing number of us who are finding our way out of bondage and into spiritual freedom, and we’re finding each other along the way.

We’re the ones who sit in the back rows of new churches, hearts pounding, tears rolling down our cheeks, wondering if it’s safe to breathe. We cry during worship, not because it’s familiar, but because it’s not. We weep for what we’ve lost, for what we’ve gained, and for what we don’t understand yet.

When we first left the church, I felt the deepest pain that I’ve really ever experienced. It was such a horrible ache in my heart, while at the same time, there was peace in my soul. Just because we are going where God is leading us, doesn’t mean it will be all sunshine and rainbows. But it gets better.

I can honestly say now that I am forever thankful for this experience, as painful as it was and often still is.

It changed me.

It made me better.

It’s led me to new people.

God doesn’t call us into a life of comfort—he calls us into faith, and sometimes that’s messy and hard. But always worth it in the end.

In Summary

So no, most people don’t get us outside of our group of exes. I don’t know if they ever will. Because of this, we are bound to one another in a way that we won’t find with anyone else. Not that we won’t move on, but these are our people—our heritage, if you will, as Jared Snyder shared in a recent podcast.

I pray that we’ll all find our new communities, new churches—whatever that looks like. I pray that we will find understanding and affirming people who will help us heal in community.

I feel like I’m in a transition stage. I'm not in the 2x2 church, but I haven’t quite found my new home yet. But I am in awe of the connections I have made along the way. They’re like little guideposts that something is coming, that what God has planned for us will come—we just have to be patient in the healing.