The Corporate Church Problem Nobody's Talking About.

It keeps coming back to this question for me. Why do so many churches feel unsafe? And why is it that so many churches, especially in the modern Western world, look and function more like businesses than organic communities of faith?

I do not ask that question as an outsider taking shots from the sidelines. I ask it as someone who has spent most of my adult life inside the church. I have sat in leadership meetings. I have carried the weight of pastoral responsibility. I have listened to countless stories from people who once loved their church and now feel a knot in their stomach just thinking about walking through the doors of another one.

Church hurt is not a fringe issue. It is not something exaggerated by social media or driven by people who simply do not want to submit to authority. The volume of stories, the consistency of the pain, and the emotional response people carry tells us something real is happening. When people talk about church, there is often grief there. Fear. Anger. Confusion. And sometimes a deep sense of betrayal.

What troubles me most is how often church leaders respond to these stories. Instead of listening, owning their part, or sitting with people in their pain, many default to defensiveness. The language becomes accusatory. People who leave are framed as rebellious, immature, unwilling to submit, or eager to excuse sin. Unsafe experiences are reframed as personal weakness. The environment is never questioned. Only the individual is.

That posture should concern us.

When people walk away from churches, they are rarely walking away from God. More often, they are walking away from leadership. There is an old saying in organizational leadership that people do not quit jobs, they quit people. That same reality applies here. The church as an idea still holds beauty for many. What they can no longer tolerate is the way power has been exercised over them.

This is where structure matters.

Over time, many churches have adopted leadership models that look far more like the corporate world than the way of Jesus. Hierarchies are rigid. Authority is centralized. Decision making is protected behind closed doors. Pastors function as CEOs. Boards operate like corporate governance. Growth metrics become spiritual indicators. Success is measured by attendance, budgets, buildings, and expansion.

None of this happened overnight. Historically, the church did not always function this way. In its earliest centuries, the church existed without political power, without social privilege, and often under threat. Communities were local, relational, and deeply dependent on one another. Leadership existed, but it was embedded within shared life rather than elevated above it.

As Christianity gained legitimacy and influence, especially once it aligned with imperial power, the church slowly reshaped itself in the image of the systems it was now operating within. Hierarchy replaced mutuality. Control replaced trust. Authority hardened into something that needed protecting. Over time, this way of organizing became normalized, even spiritualized.

Fast forward to today, and the effects are hard to miss.

When churches operate like businesses, they inherit the dysfunctions of business culture. Power concentrates. Image management becomes essential. Systems are designed to preserve stability and growth rather than foster honesty and care. Policies multiply to manage risk. People become resources to steward rather than souls to shepherd.

In that environment, safety erodes quickly.

Abuse of power does not always look dramatic. Often it is subtle. It shows up when leaders cannot be questioned. When dissent is labeled as disunity. When concern is framed as rebellion. When loyalty is valued more than truth. When the health of the institution matters more than the wellbeing of the people inside it.

Unsafe churches are almost always the result of unhealthy leadership. That does not mean leaders are evil or intentionally harmful. More often, they are carrying unexamined pressure, fear, and identity confusion. Many pastors genuinely believe they were called by God into their role, and that belief carries enormous weight. If God called them, then failure feels catastrophic. Letting go feels disobedient. Questioning the system feels like questioning God.

That internal pressure often spills outward. Control increases. Authority tightens. Criticism feels threatening rather than clarifying. The leader becomes less available, less curious, less willing to admit uncertainty. Slowly, the church shifts from a place of shared journey into a place of managed compliance.

And people feel it.

One of the most common patterns I have observed is cyclical turnover. People arrive hopeful. They stay for a few years. They serve, give, belong. Then something happens. A conflict. A moment of disillusionment. A realization that their voice does not matter. They leave quietly, often carrying shame or self doubt. New people take their place. The cycle repeats.

This is not spiritual growth. It is institutional churn.

And yet, I do not believe the answer is to abandon community altogether.

Scripture consistently calls people toward shared life. Growth, healing, and formation happen in relationship. Isolation might feel safer in the short term, but it rarely leads to wholeness. The challenge is not whether community matters. The challenge is discerning what kind of community is safe, healthy, and aligned with the way of Jesus.

Not every church will be right for every person. That is not failure. That is reality. Diversity of expression, theology, and practice exists for a reason. You are allowed to ask whether a space is safe for you. You are allowed to ask questions of leadership. You are allowed to name harm. You are allowed to leave environments that consistently dismiss, silence, or wound you.

Leaving a church is not the same as abandoning faith.

At the same time, leadership does matter. Scripture does speak about leaders who care for the people entrusted to them. Authority is not inherently abusive. It becomes abusive when it is disconnected from humility, accountability, and service. Healthy leadership welcomes conversation. It models repentance. It is more concerned with forming people than building empires.

The tension we have to hold is this. Community is essential, and leadership must be worthy of trust. Submission in Scripture is never blind. It is relational. It assumes care, integrity, and mutual responsibility.

If you have been hurt by church, I want you to know this. Your pain is real. Your story matters. You are not weak for naming it. You are not rebellious for leaving an unsafe space. And you are not alone in feeling conflicted about what comes next.

There are communities that are healthy. There are leaders who lead with humility. They may not be loud. They may not be large. They may not look impressive from the outside. But they exist. Finding them may take time. It may take courage. It may require asking better questions and trusting your instincts again.

The church does not have to be unsafe. But it does require honesty about how we got here and humility about what needs to change.

And that work starts with leadership willing to look inward before pointing outward.