1 /5 SC Gaspard: Let me start by saying—I came from churches where pastors personally texted new members during the week, greeted everyone as they left the service, and made a genuine effort to interact with people after church. For over three years, I was deeply involved at this church. I brought my family, I volunteered, and I led a group—specifically Celebration Recovery. Despite all that, I never had a single conversation with Pastor Kent or his wife. Looking back, that should’ve been a red flag. But at the time, it had become so normalized that I didn’t even realize how unhealthy and disconnected that dynamic was until after I left.
My decision to step away really began in the summer of 2020. That was such a heavy time for so many people. I was watching friends from church—and even myself—go through real struggles. And yet, there wasn’t a safe or intentional space within the church to seek support. I did reach out, and I really tried. But the help just wasn’t there.
Instead, I saw efforts being poured into community volunteer opportunities and, even more prominently, the promotion of the “Beyond” campaign to build a larger building. And I remember thinking—what are they doing to care for the people who are already inside these walls?
The final straw came during the height of the Black Lives Matter protests. That last service I attended felt performative and painfully tone-deaf. They had handpicked Black members to lead worship and even had someone—not a pastor or regular speaker—give the message. It felt like a hollow attempt to “show diversity” in response to the movement, rather than a sincere effort to engage in the real issues affecting Black members of the church. There was no acknowledgment of the grief, the pain, or the injustice that so many were feeling. It felt like a show—not a moment of solidarity or healing.