When Church Hurts... Part 2

Two months ago, I wrote the first part of this story, When Church Hurts… Part 1 , and I really expected part 2 to immediately follow. While I knew it would be hurtful to write, I didn’t anticipate it being this difficult. I spent a long time away from the church, and organized religion in general, because of the hurt I experienced as a child. It’s kind of like getting out of a bad relationship and not wanting to date again, a decision to protect yourself. It took me a long time to even become trusting of “the church” enough to want to explore returning.

Then one day, I found what I thought was “the” church. Looking back now, it wasn’t the church I found, it was the people who made up that church. This last year of reflection on the events that make up this blog post have taught me that “the church” isn’t about the church, as in the four walls, but about the people who make up that church. Some will be good and some won’t. Some will be an important part of your story and some will be the lessons needed. Some will help you heal and some will bring great pain. Some will become lifelong friends and others will make you question your own worth.

It’s funny that a year ago, my experience at church was referenced as the best year ever. I had found a community of people (at that time, I would have said a church) that I belonged to. My faith grew stronger than ever before. I found ways to fulfill my spiritual gifts, giving back, participating in mission work, and ways to volunteer. I had a pastor who I connected with, was drawn to, and was able to learn and connect to my faith in ways I hadn’t previously experienced. I attended small groups, made new friends, and tithed for the first time in years.

Then, like a bandaid, it was all ripped away from me. Change is hard; I think we have all experienced change in situation that was difficult. What seemed like my whole world began to crumble right before my eyes. And it wasn’t just in one spiritual area of my life, it was in all areas. The church, my volunteer work, and the company I was with suddenly was filled with let down, heartbreak, and disappointment. The people that were once the strongest spiritual figures in my life suddenly became people that didn’t appear to be acting very Christ-like. If you’ve ever battled with feeling confused by religion, you will understand exactly what I mean. The people that screamed from mountains “I am Christian” seemed to be the people acting the least like such. I was once again left hurt, confused, and feeling empty.

Attending a network church has its advantages and disadvantages, as I quickly came to notice . Change can happen at a moments notice, with little regard to the effects it has on the community. Our particular location underwent a change in leadership. At the time, still a newer member, I thought that this was just the normal rotation of leadership staff. However, the more I sat and watched, the more my gut told me something wasn’t right. I watched what appeared to be the majority of the leadership team, the volunteer team, turn over. New faces came into our location, those that never previously appeared there. Clicks. Sadly, new clicks came in and appeared to take over. One by one, I started to see my “community” grow smaller. The people that I attended small group with suddenly weren’t attending Sunday service. The volunteers who typically greeted me were replaced with new faces, faces that I didn’t know. Sunday service, as I knew it, suddenly went from a place of community, of family… to fake conversations and disinterest in others.

I decided, at this time, to stop attending Sunday service. I was okay, because at this time, I was deeply involved in attending prison ministry weekly. That was composed of worship music, a sermon, and small group, all in one night. I was always in awe of how I felt the Holy Spirit in that setting, that not attending Sunday service didn’t feel like a loss. I looked at prison ministry as my home church, as my small group, as my community. Until, one day, just like at my church, the leadership changed. New faces came in, new faces took over, with once again, no regard to the existing community. I remember the first time I cried over this, angry that this was deja vu, and that I just went through this a few months prior at the church. But this time it was different. I spoke up. I expressed my concerns. I advocated for my peers, for myself, and most importantly for the inmates attending the program. And then, I was asked not to return.

I cannot put into words how much of my heart and soul was poured into prison ministry. Losing this piece of me felt like a part of my heart was ripped out and disregarded. It’s not often that I see myself in a positive light, but I can with full confidence say that I was so good inside that ministry. I was able to connect so deeply with those men and poured so much into them, while they poured so much into me. I couldn’t understand how a ministry that is so complex, so uninteresting to so many, would let go of one of their most passionate volunteers. That’s where everything fell apart.

I’ve lost a lot of respect for the people involved. I’ve lost a lot of respect for “the church” as a whole. Churches aren’t perfect because they are made up of imperfect people. Hurt people hurt people. Some situations are so complex that there is no right way to deal with them. Some people just don’t have the ability to take a look at their own actions in a situation. I could go on and on to explain what happened; what went wrong.

A lot of people were hurt over the last year. Myself included. I used to think it was just me. I cried for days that turned into weeks that turned into months. I got so depressed I found myself one day with no food in the house to feed Bluebelle. That was my wake up call. That is when I started therapy. I used to get so mad at myself because I was so hurt and so affected by this. I’ve learned to give myself grace and be kind to myself. It wasn’t until I got together in a room full of people from that original community that I learned I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t the only hurt person.

The last year has taught me so much. I have grown more in my faith in the last few months by doing “church” my way. I have realized that I don’t need 4 walls and a building to worship God. I am still hurt. In fact, prior to writing this, I found myself in tears when a worship song came on that used to be sung frequently in prison ministry. I could hear the inmates signing, and found myself in tears missing the relationships I had. Those guys will never know why I stopped coming. I’ve battled with the fact that they may feel I abandoned them. They will never know that I am no longer permitted to come. I’ve had to learn how to forgive myself. I’ve learned that boundaries, saying “no”, and taking care of myself are ok. I’ve learned that not everyone will like what I have to say, but that doesn’t mean I should be silenced on the things that matter most to me.

A wise person who has helped me through this process has helped me to see that God sends us to people and places to fulfill a mission. I’ve learned to accept that whatever mission I was sent to that prison to fulfill, has been fulfilled, and that there is someone else out there waiting for me next. I’ve learned to trust the plans he has for me. I’ve been reminded time and time again that despite how these religious figures have made me feel, the word says that I am loved, I am worthy, and I am enough. I’ve learned that I am created with a purpose and I should not doubt that purpose. I’ve learned to make “church” happen on my own terms. Some weeks that met worshiping in home with a small group of trusted people. Other weeks that means praise and worship in my car. Other times, it’s quiet prayer time alone.

Church is great, it is a place of community, and there is so much value in worshipping with others. But, and this is a huge but, don’t let anyone make you to feel that you are not worthy of Christianity because you do not attend a church. For every amazing pastor out there, there is a pastor who causes hurt on someone. For every church that is doing wonderful things, there will be one who is not. You worship your way. There is no right or wrong way to have a relationship with your Lord. That can be as private or public a matter as you so chose.