On Church Hurt

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What we say and how we say it affects others. The first time I remember being criticized was after a science project I misunderstood in Grade 6. I had worked tirelessly on the project, completing it to what I thought the expectations were. Last minute, they were clarified and I tried to remedy my misstep. I achieved a C. Later, my project was publicly torn apart by my teacher in front of the class. It took me a long time to recover from that scenario. Even helpful criticisms felt like an attack on my very existence for years after.

Another time, Chris had been rejected by a church (where we attended) for a job application. We were newly married, not ready to lead those more wiser than us, but we were passionate and full of energy. After the rejection, we decided it was time to take that energy elsewhere. A woman from the church showed up on our doorstep, not to counsel us, but to ream us out for our selfishness. In. Our. Own. Living. Room. We recovered more quickly from the job rejection than from the invasive shaming.

That was probably my first experience with church hurt.

Much hurt in our lives comes from the inability or unwillingness to think about how words, actions and inactions impact others. A difference that comes with church hurt (and perhaps hurt from people we love) is that we expect the people who have hurt us to know better. Factors like whether the hurt was intentional, whether the person was in a position of trusted leadership and the level of closeness to the relationship impact the depth of the wound.

I remember being at a conference and a broken-hearted mother asked the pastor leading the session what advice he had for reaching out to a family member who had been hurt by the church. The pastor's response involved the hurt person looking inward at their own attitudes. At first, I was satisfied with that answer because I know that we can only control our own thoughts, feelings and actions. The underlying assumption to the answer was that we are responsible for our own level of hurt, which is partially true.

As years have ticked on and my mind is drawn back to that moment, I am no longer satisfied with that answer. What is the church (the body, the group of people, the leaders who represent that body) doing to examine their own attitudes (words, actions and inactions) that have caused people hurt and doing to repair that damage? With a creed that fronts forgiveness and that no one is without need of it, where is the accountability? Jesus covers our sins, but our words are mere noise without integrity.

Practically, what does this look like?

I don't have that answer and it certainly isn't one size fits all. If we are hurt (and are struggling to let that hurt go) it might look like letting someone know we are hurt. A proxy might be necessary. People in relationships are not mind readers (at least not in my marriage!) From the church perspective, it might look like laying our pride aside and not apologizing for causing hurt (excusing rather than acknowledgment), but taking ownership and apologizing for the actions that caused the hurt.

When Chris and I argue, I like to have it out in the moment. Gloves off, go time, now! Chris likes space and time. While aggravating, space and time help. On the other hand, don't leave it too long or bitterness brews.

Forgiveness is the release of hurt. Reconciliation, on the other hand, is the act of healing a relationship. Key word: act. For relationships to work out after conflict, usually boundaries need to be discussed. I write only from lived experience, Dr. Henry Cloud has great material and is an expert. These subjects are massive and book upon book has been written.

While not my idea, but one of a friend I respect, planned exit interviews, might help healing in our churches, if we are open to criticism. Our roads of relationship merge and at other times, they diverge. That is life. When we see our diverged relationships at the grocery store are we going to hide behind the stack of pop cases or greet them with genuine care? Perhaps planning a conversation after conflict or the end of a season of ministry would help people heal and churches improve the health of their space.

The world watches how the church body treats each other, it is why many stay at an arm's length. We will all stumble, it’s how we walk afterward that speaks for our heart. When we hurt others, will we be sportsmanlike and help them back up or take our penalty with remorse? Or will we pridefully leave a wreck of relationships in our wake? Will we listen and ease their pain by risking some hurt of our own?

How can we build each other up when we disagree?

"There should be no schism in the body, but that the members should have the same care for one another. And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; or if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it." 1 Corinthians 12:25, 26

By remembering that in the body of believers diversity helps accomplish the purpose of loving God and loving others, it reminds me that I can accept people accomplishing the purpose in manner that is different or even in a way that I disagree with. It is not easy and it takes work.

Words like “Christian” and “church” are stale in mouths of many as people associate them with hurt and distrust. More often than I want to admit, I cringe at leaders or groups who represent my faith. Turning my attention inward is the answer.

"Do not let arrogance go to your head and despair to your heart; do not let compliments go to your head and criticisms to your heart; do not let success go to your head and failure to your heart." -- Roy T. Bennett

We can neither let the voices of others nor the failures we experience weigh us down. Instead we must lead with the repentance and forgiveness we long to see.

"So then, let us aim for harmony in the church and try to build each other up...you may believe there is nothing wrong with what you are doing, but keep it between yourself and God." -Romans 14:19, 22

Socks are Stocking Stuffers

We've been gathering for church on Wednesday evenings, twice monthly. We celebrated Christmas together this second week of December and won't meet again in an organized sense until the new year. There are six children under the age of 11 in our group. I had decided to buy a gift for each child for the Christmas party.

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A few years back our church showed a video interviewing children about the worst gifts to receive at Christmas...socks was a frequent answer. Despite seeing this video, the message didn't sink in. I was probably distracted by some greater theme like, "Jesus is the reason for the season."

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My autistic child wanted to be a wolf for Halloween. In the obsessed fashion that only she can pull off, she howled at every door so the person behind it would know she was a wolf, not a cat, even though she was wearing cat ears.

Naturally, when I saw a pair of socks with a fuzzy texture she would love and a wolf on them, I thought she would go bananas for them. The price and size of the gift were in line with the individual treasures I had picked for each of the other children to open at the church Christmas party. I purchased this "perfect" gift without a second thought.

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Gift opening with autism is a tricky thing. Expectations are set and many autistics humans struggle with flexible thinking. What this means is if my child anticipates the gift to be something and it is not that something, the reaction will probably be less than flattering. We are working on that reaction. It is known as "the social fake" and it must be taught.

Guess what? My child was not expecting "grey fox socks" and did not appreciate a gift I actually put a lot of thought into. What was supposed to be a fun little gift turned into an evening of navigating emotions (my own included) toward this unexpected gift and her reaction toward it.

Eventually, some dancing lights I put on distracted and relaxed her. While the other kids danced around to Christmas tunes, she surprised me by saying she wanted to talk. We went into her bedroom and closed the door missing the goodbyes for the evening.

She worked through her feelings expressing that socks are "stocking stuffers" and should never be given as a Christmas gift. Why would I buy her "grey fox socks?" I shared the thought I put into the gift and my feelings.

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I came home from work the following day to fuzzy feet loving her new pair of wolf grey fox socks. She gushed how they kept her feet warm and she grinned as she ran her fingers along the tops taking in the texture.

Sometimes neurodiverse people need time to appreciate a gift or adjust their expectations. If you give someone you love a gift this season and don't get the reaction you hope, remember not everyone has mastered the social fake and the genuine appreciation is worth the wait.

Oh and in case you didn't get the message, socks are stocking stuffers.

Hooky

 "I'm coming with a heart of worship

I'm bringing in a brand new song

I'm ready to see the unthinkable

I'm ready for a miracle

Hearts praying for fresh encounter

Souls looking to the living God

I'm ready for a real revival

O Holy Spirit"

-Patrick Mayberry

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Sometimes I skip Sunday church. My only reason is that I am a Monday-to-Friday-working-full-time mom and the weekends are always too short, especially in December. I am an introvert who spends A LOT of time with people and children. I need time by myself to recharge. Often my alone time is spent dodging my children. Sitting in the kitchen, in the open, and music blaring is better than trying to hide. As soon as I hide, in their eyes, the game to find me and make demands begins.

This brings me to hiding from church from time to time. I am not talking about hiding from God. I am not talking about hiding from community. I am talking about literally the building and all it can entail. Church often makes me feel not good enough, especially when I am new. I have been "new" to a great number of churches in my time, not because I am not dedicated or committed, but because Chris (my husband) is a pastor. The feeling of inadequacy is not all bad, it's partially the point because this is why I need Jesus; to bridge the inadequacy, because He is enough and that is His gift.

I will always bring the bias of a pastor's wife to my writing and yet, I even have a problem with that, no one call's Chris the teacher's husband. When I think about church, I often think about clipboards awaiting my name to sign-up for things I don't want to do or things that won't progress my spiritual health. I am left with a heavy weight that unless I sign-up, I am not enough. The unspoken message of “you reap what you sow,” and so if it "isn't worth my time," the problem is my attitude. I am sometimes told this feeling in my gut is the Holy Spirit's conviction. Yet, I feel only manipulation to write my name down.

On the reverse side, I feel like an alien on a foreign planet. I don't know what is happening outside the walls or even where the clipboards are. Longing for connection or a desire to help I feel like I have to infiltrate a secret society. Isn't this supposed to be about loving God and serving Him together? Why do I feel so alone?

We must normalize that church participation is not an indicator of spiritual health. We correlate that good Christians go to church every Sunday, in many of the reformed denominations, you must go twice. For participation in church extra-curriculars to be healthy, participation must be birthed from a desire rather than coercion; just like a person's relationship with God. There is freedom in true love, not bondage. We must ask ourselves as church leaders, "what harm are we potentially causing?" to progress the cause of Christ.

And so, rather than going to church this morning, I wrote this blog, in between emptying the dishwasher, turning loads of laundry, and pausing, allowing music and the power of God to wash over me. This is church to me. My advent wreath sits on the table and awaits the family to gather around it, where my children will excitedly light candles and be active participants in their own faith story. My heart is full and ready to pour as I anticipate celebrating the birth of a child on whom my faith hinges. His manger cries echo the words, "You are enough, because I am..."

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Disclaimer: these generalizations do not represent any particular church past or present.