There is always a precise moment that hammers it home.
Sometimes it’s when everyone around the table is laughing and I laugh, too, uncertainly, because I don’t really get the joke or the reference that sent everyone around me into hysterics.
Sometimes it’s when someone casually tells me that we’ll be meeting in the “usual place, room 45,” and I wander aimlessly for twenty minutes around Room 44 and Room 46 before some kind stranger takes pity on me and tells me that Room 45 is actually in the annex on the other side of the building.
Sometimes it’s when an event gets canceled and no one remembers to call me.
Sometimes it’s when I park next to a group of women who walk into the church side-by-side, chatting and asking each other questions like old friends, and they breeze right by while I struggle to carry a bunch of boxes inside – even though I’ve been in their group for five weeks now.
Sometimes it’s when the woman sitting next to me confides that Eliza’s not able to make it “because of Ben, you know,” and I’m not sure if Ben is Eliza’s husband or her son or her brother, and if he’s sick, or maybe if he died, and no one ever really explains it.
And sometimes it’s the moment when I make a suggestion or bring up an idea and the room full of people nod, politely, or never even acknowledge the contribution at all, before going back to the way this event has always been executed for the last 145 years of the church.
In those precise moments, I realize what’s going on: I’ve stumbled into the center of a church clique.
That word, “clique” – people don’t like it. And they don’t like being described with it. “Clique” makes them think of Regina George and the Mean Girls movie, of catty girls and backstabbing and high school drama. But that’s not the way I mean it here. When I say “church clique,” I’m simply referring to a group of Christians with a shared history whose culture (often unintentionally) is more insular than inclusive. Most Christian cliques I know are full of kind people. They’re often benevolent and well-meaning. And they often don’t realize that they’re excluding others.
Yet this clique-ish behavior, as well-intended as it may be, has a profoundly alienating affect. I’ve watched congregants slowly fade away from churches, unable to “break in” to a group. I’ve watched visitors with no incentive to dig in and try to worm inside the group simply give up. I’ve watched brilliant ideas left abandoned, unique and wonderful people shunted aside, and whole churches suffer under the weight of insularity.
I’ve been on both sides of this. At some congregations I’ve been in a church clique and participated in clique-ish behavior without even realizing it. And at others I’ve been on the outside, unable to break through to belonging. And whichever side of the divide you happen to be on right now, it’s worth considering what forms church cliques in the first place, and what characterizes them.
Church cliques, as far as I can tell, are often formed between long-time members with shared history and experiences in the church. How do you know if you’re in one? There are a few indicators:
- with an exception or two, everyone in your group knows each other fairly well, and often share preferences, likes, or dislikes
- you have a history or shared experiences or events within the church
- the group’s conversations and interactions are peppered with private jokes, inside references, and mentions of familiar group history/events/members
- you all share a good working knowledge of the layout and functions of the church, know who to talk to get things done, and know how most processes work
- your group gravitates to each other at larger events and many of you work together in various church functions
- your group has a series of familiar, unwritten traditions and methods to accomplish actions that everyone seems to know but no one ever explains
- you are familiar with the spouse/immediate family names, family histories, illnesses, and struggles of many of the people in your group
- your group seems content the way it is; very few of the members make an effort to befriend or bring in new congregants, visitors, or unfamiliar faces. New members or visitors might come for a while, but rarely seem to stay long.
- very little about the makeup of your group has changed over time
“That doesn’t sound all bad,” you might be saying. “That sounds mostly like Christians being friends with each other.” But the difference between “a group of long-time Christian friends hanging out” and a clique is insularity and context. The clique tends to exist inwardly, focusing mostly on itself and often oblivious (if not unfriendly) to including others. Nothing’s necessarily bothersome about that if it’s just a group of friends going to Dairy Queen on their own time, but in the context of church functions or fellowship the behavior of a church clique can be alienating. Here’s how:
Church cliques don’t bother with explanations. Of anything. Newbies to the clique are left to ferret out on their own, if possible, all sorts of things: who this “Ben” is that keeps being mentioned in conversation, what happened on that mission trip in 2015 that breaks everyone up in hysterics the moment it’s mentioned, and where Room 45 actually is. In cliques, everyone operates on the assumption that everyone else already knows everything important/vital and doesn’t need it explained, forcing new participants to either a) make themselves the center of attention and ask questions every 5 seconds, b) absorb the relevant information by proxy, or c) figure it out on their own.
Church cliques have a distinct way of doing things that they don’t always explain, and don’t like deviations. Here’s a funny story: at a previous church, I was invited to decorate the lobby for Christmas with a particular group. We were told to “decorate the trees with the bulbs in the boxes.” I found a box of bulbs that seemed appropriate for the tree I was working on, only to glance up and find myself the object of surprised, unhappy stares. When I asked what was wrong, one member told me tersely, “We never put those bulbs on that tree.” Oops.
Church cliques have a certain way of decorating the church. They have a certain way of doing lunch. They have a certain way of running ministry events, or holding a meeting, or putting on an Easter play. The trick is that they don’t explain these procedures or expectations to outsiders. Most everyone seems to just know how these things ought to go, and if you violate that unwritten rule…well, they’ll let you know.
Church cliques care a lot about their own, but not always others. In one small group I was in, the members swung into action like a well-oiled machine at the slightest hint of a longtime member’s suffering. If a baby was born, if someone died, if someone broke a bone, a housework-‘n’-dinner brigade assembled immediately. I also watched this same group do nothing when a new member was once in critical care for three days and then discharged home with a home health nurse while she recovered from surgery. When I asked where the housework-‘n’-dinner brigade was, one of the members said tentatively, “Well, we…don’t know what she might prefer or might want or not want, so…” Their motives weren’t necessarily malicious or unkind, but I’m not sure it mattered to the woman at home recovering. She never attended again.
Church cliques only miss their own. If one of the clique’s members goes missing, everyone knows why – and, if possible, they seek to remedy or ease that absence. If a newer member disappears, or never shows up again? Well, maybe it wasn’t the right fit for them. Or maybe no one knows why, and it never occurred to them to ask.
They exclude others without meaning to do so. If you ever wonder if you’re seeing a church clique in action, watch their body language. Look for the closed circle of believers with their heads together, or who are facing each other, and watch who is sitting on the periphery of that circle, or who is peeping over someone’s shoulder to try to join in, or who sits quietly outside the closed circle entirely. Something that I wasn’t always conscious of, but am now, is where my body is facing when I’m addressing a group; if there are people behind me, or people excluded, I either try to beckon them in or I turn as best I can to address them.
And there are other, subtler means of exclusion, too: not introducing new members or participants to everyone, not giving explanations or help, unwritten assumptions and rules, and even simple things like forgetting to invite people to get-togethers or neglecting to add their names to lists. In conversation, it often means interrupting or talking over people, dominating the conversation, or simply ignoring contributions by newbies.
In the end, because of this, a clique often becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Of course they welcome new congregants, they say, but never seem to wonder why the new congregants never stick. They don’t realize that, after four or five meetings of feeling like an afterthought, or of bearing the heaviness of not-belonging, very few people have the incentive to endure and become part of the group.
The great news is that the solution to the Christian clique is simple, and it can start with just one person being more inclusive. Taking the time to explain where Room 45 is or who Bob is, or even pulling someone aside after a meeting to explain a group joke, helps foster a feeling of belonging. Treating new members with the same care as old ones goes a long way. And a lot of times it’s the things that might seem insignificant that matter the most: inviting other people into the circle of a conversation, asking questions, listening, making sure that they’re on all the communication lists.
When it comes to the church clique problem, a tiny bit of effort can go a long way toward opening the door to others. And if we can commit to doing that, we’re likely to make our churches more welcoming and warm for all who attend.
Samaritan's Song 
I’m so sorry you’ve experienced this dreadful behaviour. I believe every word of it. It is so hard to remain in a fellowship where you feel unwelcome and every single group makes it clear you are not welcome in theirs. On the outside looking in. A horrible place to be. I hope God will find you some special friends amidst the congregation who you can get to know really well. No doubt these people will be the unpopular’s – the ones who nobody cares about knowing because they are not in an up-front ministry and therefore don’t make them look good. These sort of people are the best friends to have because they are real and know what it’s like to feel rejected in the very place where acceptance is talked about so often. God bless you loads – I wish you all the best.
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I am very fortunate to have lots of good fellow believers as friends and I’m really happy in my current congregation! This was just a particularly interesting subject to me to write about because I’ve been on both sides: on the outside looking in and also a part of the clique where everybody seems to know everyone and how to do everything.
You’re right, though – a lot of times people DO get shunted aside when they’re in a background ministry, and it’s definitely one of our duties to welcome those folks in and help them feel loved.
Wishing you all the best as well! Thanks for reading. 🙂
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Very well written!!! Thanks for putting this together in such a powerful message; non threatening but definately addressing the reality of this phenomenon. Thank you!
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I missed this post! I am planning to re-blog it in the next couple days. I’ve blogged on similar, but yours really lays it out – it could help those in the clique “see” – if only they read your post!
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So glad! And yes, our blindness to these things can be devastating.
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P.S. I may be missing it, but I can’t find a “search” feature on your blog? But I think you had a post at one time about not having children. In fact, I think that may be how I initially found your blog? Could you share the link? (If my memory is off, just delete this!) I had a lengthy post today defending the childfree Christian marriage. I link to several other posts, and I may like to share a group of such Christian articles at some point…
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Laura, I thought I had a search feature, too! Maybe it vanished…will have to look into that. But here’s the link: https://thesamaritansong.com/2015/07/24/the-childfree-christian/
Hope this helps!
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Well this certainly made me feel better, and worse. I’m not inclined to push myself into the clique of women at my church at this point in my life. I have cried enough over being excluded, in the ways you wrote about, and it is what it is at this point. If they want to be the queen bees, they can. I will attend church, reach out to new people, continue with my good works outside of church, and live in peace.
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I think it sometimes happens intentionally, and sometimes not – and I hope those who don’t do it intentionally have a realization that causes them to reflect. But for the others, yes – we become the welcome we wanted to have.
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My response is way after the initial ones, but I have experienced being an outsider in a number of congregations. Most recently, I moved out of the US and attended a congregation which is very international. People ignore me for the most part, although, I have met some of the people. Especially during the time of refreshment after the service, I wander around looking for a place to land, but there really isn’t any. So today I wandered out looking at people in the eyes while they ignored me. I will try other congregations instead. I told a friend about the hurt and she said that maybe I give off a bad vibe. That really hurt as well. For her, it couldn’t possibly be that the people are unfriendly. I must be the problem. Thanks for listening. Jewel
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So very sorry to hear this, Jewel. Yes – I think other people think it makes more sense for other people to be the problem than perhaps to reflect on how they might be contributing. I think a lot of people generally believe they have the best of intentions – and they really may – and at the same time not recognizes the practices and approaches they engage in that make others feel unwelcome. It is very tough!
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i hope you still read this.
i come from different country. Currently living in the US. We go to a church where my husband’s families attended like four generation. My husband’s grandpa was decon and his parents are missionaries from there. And people know my husband really well too. Like you said, all those women have good intentions. They are kind. They are godly. Main clique in our small church consists moms with small kids. They serve across multiple ministries so they spend a lot of time together. They also attend the same life group together. So they are really close knitted. Which is honestly great. But the thing is, I tried to fit in and I couldn’t. I tried like 10 years. First couples years I struggle with English so it was rather hard to be part of conversation that moves so quick. And then now those women don’t really talk to me even at church. They usually go to their familiar faces. They are closely connected through their kids as well. I tried to fit in. I tried to speak up but sometimes I struggle with speed of conversation and I get lost. So I am trying on that. They seem to help each other but when I had baby(I have four daughters including twin), nobody reached out. Truly out of sight, out of mind. And I felt very sad. During the life group, one of the moms actually said that as well. Also I talked to sub pastor’s wife (his dad is a main pastor at church) about how I am needing help, and she said “sometimes you need to get to know people and then you can start asking help” this comment hurt me deeply. She meant it good. I don’t blame her. I know I have trouble communicating my thoughts and still pretty slow sometimes. When I stopped going to life group no one asked how I was doing and they didn’t invite us for playdates for kids or get together outside the group. I felt very excluded. Ami told my husband’s mom since she is missionary, and she said “Northwest has culture that if you don’t say anything they won’t see you.” And I felt defeated again. I thought I tried but I think it was not enough. And now Sunday is becoming torture to me. When I see those moms faces, I tear up. Because no one sees my pain. (My fault, because I didn’t have courage to tell them). I am in charge of nursery schedule so I work in nursery very often during service. And those moms don’t even talk to me at all in nursery. I say something and they never seem to want to talk to me. Again, I repent this because I shouldn’t blame them. Probably 90% is happening in my head. It is hard because I know they don’t mean to hurt me. And I feel guilty of not wanting to go to this church because my husband family went to this church generations. But nobody seems to care for us. Most members are like my husband and they have families going to the church. I think I need to quit thinking and just dive but I can’t seem to stop feeling rejected. Paul said be established and rooted in love of Christ. I have to pray this verse very often for me to have courage to go to church. It takes enormous effort and courage for me to show up. And the truth is I had postpartum depression so I was feeling down many days even inside the church. And somehow I just can’t help but think they might look at me like I am some child or immature person because I am this way. I have a problem with depression, but I am going to therapy and trying really hard. Those moms at my church seem like their lives are great. But I still feel tremendous sadness. So sad and feel defeated. I know our enemy want to use to isolate me. I will not let that happen.
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I am so sorry this has happened to you. Am not sure if your name is Kinako. 1 Corintians 13:1 speaks about love, and without love you are a noisy gong or clanging symbol.
The church everywhere has a problem with people not accepting those who really need love. It’s not your fault. I would want to be your friend. Please pray and ask God what you can do. Find someone at church who might be like you and in need of a friend.
I have never fit in very well. It has taken me a while to find a place where I might fit in. But it’s hard to get to know people.
Pray and ask God for just one woman who might be a friend to you and you to her. Maybe there is a group of women outside of your church who are in a different bible study. Bible Study Fellowship is starting up again in Sept. You might find some friends there. Please don’t give up. Jewel
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Jewel, what a kind hearted reply. I think your thoughts mirrored in the reply I shared as well. I think we are all a community of like-minded folks here, far apart as we are!
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Kinako, I am so sorry to read about what has happened and how you feel. Even if others do not intend to cause you pain, this is still very painful for you. I think for many reasons (language barriers, not having children, not sharing interests) we can exclude others, but even if we do not intend to that does not make it okay. We serve a God who loves and welcomes all who come to him, and we also should embody this with how we treat others.
Even if you cannot find close friends at your church, I will pray that God establishes godly friends for you in other places. Even at this blog i hope you know you are part of a community who cares about you, sees you, and wishes your good (even though we may be far apart).
What I hope you most know is that nothing is wrong with you. Many of us go through these painful experiences, so none of us are alone. I pray God blesses you with the relationships that will lift you up and bring you joy (whether in your church or elsewhere). He loves you and knows what it means to feel isolated among others. I am thinking of you.
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