Points2Ponder🎙: Why I Do Not Belong to an Independent Church

Why I Still Belong to a Church

Philipose Vaidyar

Every church has a role to play and serves a specific community or type of people. I believe the Master of the Church uses His body of believers everywhere to reach out to the world. I also believe that no single mission or church can complete the unfinished task of mission in any country or context. For this reason, I respect all church denominations and pray that each of them will yield to the Lord’s call and mission.

What I share here is regarding my membership in a local congregation—a congregation I would like to be part of.

Independent churches have undeniable advantages.

They can move fast.
They can try new things.
They can start evangelism, missions, creative ministries, and social initiatives without waiting for approvals from layers of authority.

In contrast, traditional churches operate within hierarchies. Pastors and presbyters function within boundaries. Innovation is often slow. Any attempt to change age-old practices invites resistance.

At first glance, the independent model looks more attractive.

But leadership realities change the picture.

In churches where pastors serve fixed terms—three or four years—there are unspoken reasons why very little new is initiated.

Why take so much trouble to start something new?
Why invite criticism by pushing change?
Why invest years in building a ministry when there is no assurance it will continue after a transfer?

Year one: you introduce an idea.
Year two: you establish it.
Year three: you get people involved.
Year four: you leave.

There is no guarantee the next pastor will care.

So most leaders choose the safer path—maintain the status quo.
If energy is spent, it is usually on visible and lasting outcomes: renovating a building, constructing a new church, or upgrading facilities. These projects create goodwill and survive leadership changes.

I once saw a small but meaningful exception.

A newly appointed pastor suggested that our congregation be introduced to local ministries in the city, so we could learn to participate beyond ourselves. I immediately thought of two small ministries I knew personally. He took the initiative, arranged visits, and many members joined. We went more than once. People learned. Some got involved. One partnership still continues.

Such initiatives are usually acceptable because they do not threaten tradition.

But anything that touches deeply rooted practices—liturgy, authority, long-held customs—is far more difficult to change. It invites questions, resistance, and sometimes conflict. So churches settle into an “average mode”—stable, predictable, and safe. Even in mission fields, there is often a tendency to impose familiar styles and practices on new believers instead of allowing faith to grow in its own cultural soil.

Independent churches offer a different freedom.

A pastor can stay long-term.
He can build patiently.
He can mentor leaders according to a clear vision.
He can introduce new ministries, partnerships, financial models, and spiritual formation methods without being questioned by an upper authority.

This freedom can produce vibrant communities.

But it also carries serious risks.

In many independent churches, when the pastor is the final authority, there is no corrective structure. Over time, he may change—slowly and often unknowingly. Leadership style shifts. Doctrine shifts. Interpretation becomes personal. Disagreement is seen as rebellion.

Those who differ usually do one of two things:
They leave.
Or they stay silent.

History shows that several sincere and gifted pastors have gradually become authoritarian, doctrinally imbalanced, or even cultic—sometimes in leadership, sometimes in theology, sometimes in both.

Traditional churches restrict pastoral freedom, but they provide theological continuity. A pastor may not be able to change much, but he also cannot change everything. Whether he personally likes it or not, he must work within a shared framework.

Interestingly, in such churches, the members often enjoy more freedom than the pastors.

They are free to think.
Free to question.
Free to read.
Free to grow.

They are not constantly monitored for loyalty to one leader’s interpretation.

That matters to me.

An old ministry leader—someone I have known since the early 1980s—asked me about my church membership and involvement. He is from a Syrian church background and was part of a Pentecostal Church. A firebrand speaker, a doctorate in theology, a professor and a principal. I told him plainly.

“I am part of the St. Thomas Evangelical Church. I participate in every possible way. If I am asked to preach, I do it gladly, considering the theme and lessons for the day. If I am asked to lead Bible studies, I do it wholeheartedly with the desire that every member of the church should study the Word for themselves. But I also differ on several matters.

I do not personally conform much to liturgy, though I have nothing against it. My early upbringing was Baptist. In many ways, I am still a Baptist inside. We believe in believer’s baptism, and we had the freedom to baptize our children when they became adults and could confess their faith. We have done so for three of our children.

I took membership in this church because I observed it to be a missionary church, deeply involved in mission work. On practices I disagree with, I simply do not participate. I also have the freedom to write. When needed, I write to the bishops stating my position. If they do not respond, I leave it with them.

Wherever I travel, if there is a congregation, I attend. This is how I belong.”

He smiled and said, “Vaidyare, that was a very good decision.”

Then he told me something that stayed with me.

He said he regretted a decision he made over forty years ago—when one of our leaders had invited him to join the Church, and he declined.

Today, I thank God for the Church I joined 36 years ago.

I have no regrets.
I agree to disagree on some matters.
I serve where I can.
I stay free where I must.

Faith, I have learned, is not about choosing perfect systems.
It is about choosing spaces where conviction is held with humility, authority is balanced by accountability, and belonging does not demand uniformity.

That balance is rare.
But when you find it, it is worth staying.

Read in Malayalam മലയാളത്തിൽ വായിക്കാൻ...