A careful reading of the New Testament epistles lets you know there were some toxic people who were part of the early church. They could be disruptive and divisive, stirring stuff up and threatening the unity of the fellowship. That’s why guys like the apostle Paul wrote some of the letters they did—to warn the rank and file about them and do what he could to minimize their impact.
Unfortunately, the presence of toxic people in the church of Jesus Christ is not limited to the first century. Over the course of my three-plus decades in pastoral ministry, I was exposed to a number of toxic people who were part of the life of the church. And the reality is that many of them, unbelievably, would never see or consider themselves as toxic. Some of the behavior patterns that render them toxic are so normal and routine to them that they can’t see how anybody would ever think of them as harmful or unsafe.
The good news is that I had a number of toxic people leave the churches that I served over the years. I’d like to believe that the presence of relative health exposed their comparative unhealth and made so uncomfortable they decided to move on. But then again, that’s not for me to judge.
One thing I can say with certainty is there was a pattern of what the church went through in the wake of their departures. First—toxic people typically have a following made up largely of “groupies”, so when they leave there will be accompanying departures. Part of their toxicity is that they can’t step away quietly and discreetly. Their departure is typically conspicuous and visible so that their minions can join them in it. When a toxic person leaves, there will typically be an exodus of others.
This will introduce into the church a season of disorientation where a number of questions are being asked. Those who were unaware of the conflict and private strife caused by the toxic people will wonder what is going on. Typically, those who left will spin a self-justifying narrative to explain their departure. There will be a period of shock and adjustment—and, perhaps, at some level grief—that feels like a lull.
The good news is that out of this place healing can begin. While the departure was always traumatic and emotionally taxing, I always found on the other side was greater emotional resources to focus on people and the surrounding community. While there was some scrambling that went on to cover the bases of those that had left, there was also a heightened sense of trust I enjoyed with those who remained as well as a spirit of rejuvenation and resurgence within the church … because the catalyst of so much prior congregational drama was no longer around to continue stirring things up. People stepped up to serve. Congregants started inviting neighbors and co-workers. Some folks who had been restrained and reserved in their giving became more generous. Signs of life were apparent and easy to see.
I actually came to believe that the season after the departure of toxic people—particularly toxic folks who enjoyed a previous platform of influence—was a time of rare and unique opportunity. When the cancer was no longer part of the system, the body could grow in healthy and vital ways. Granted—it took a while … and it was incumbent on me as a pastor to be a non-anxious presence (to use Edwin Friedman’s phrase) and manifest a faith-filled, and not panic-stricken, countenance. But the reward for trudging through the emotionally taxing slog of their departure was a fertile field of potential and missional effectiveness on the other side.
Bottom line: Every pastor has to deal with toxic, poisonous people. It’s not fun. It can prove emotionally exhausting. You’ll have things said about you, and accusations levied, that are hurtful and upsetting. But the reality is that the church is not going to grow as long as toxicity is given a platform of influence and poisonous people are allowed to do their thing. And the good news is that after toxic people leave, the church typically is healthier than it’s been in a long time and rebounds after you get past the painful initial reaction.