I started attending church (Frist Baptist Church) and met hypocrisy. I didn’t even know the word, or what it meant, but I got a personal lesson in hypocrisy. I was rebuked for not “wearing my Sunday best to church, in front of other members of the church, by an elder. I told her that it was all my single mom could afford. This woman then told me that God was punishing me because I was sinful, and that that punishment was being visited on my mom, who should find a good husband to take care of her and me. I took it to the pastor who rebuked me for talking back to the elder. But when I told him that my mom couldn’t afford “Sunday best” he also said that she needs to find a good man blah blah blah. I couldn’t understand why I had to dress super nice, when God cares about what is in my heart, not on my body, and I even brought that up to the pastor, who literally waved me off and said “You should want to look your best for God”. But..God created me. He knows what I look like. He knows my mom doesn’t have a lot of money. And he knows that I love him and want to do right by him. Yes, yes, that’s all true and good, but maybe I should get a paper route so I can make money of my own and buy fancy clothes for church. I didn’t tell my mom to find a good man, and I didn’t get a paper route because the bible doesn’t mention anywhere that one needs to wear expensive clothing to worship God. Then I was invited to the pastor’s ranch for the weekend, to go horesback rididng. His teenage kids were rude, not what I was expecting of this family, and his wife coerced me into taking a bath before bed, but she had to be in the bathroom in case anything happened. I was 11. I wasn’t going to drown in the tub. I really wasn’t. She sat on the toilet watching me undress. It was the creepiest feeling I’ve ever had in my life to date. I refused to take off my underwear and got in the tub and sat down defiantly. She offered to wash me. I flatly refused and asked her to leave. She wouldn’t. So, I got out, grabbed a towel, my clothes and me and my wet self left the bathroom. I went into the guestroom prepared for me and stayed there. I couldn’t wait to go home the next day. I never told anyone this. No one. Instead, I left the church, thinking this is what church is? No thanks. I’ll pass.
That’s actually why I left the church. She was not encouraging me to take a bath, but rather demanding I take a bath. Everyone takes a bath before bed in this house, she would say. Then stood in the bathroom with me, watching me undress, asking if I was going to take my underwear off. I said no. I asked her to leave. I honestly have no memory of anything after that, or even going home. I’ve left it there in my head and my heart. It won’t serve me today to recall that memory.
I guess what I’m saying is that now, I’m looking for a church, but can’t get past the stuff I dealt with as a kid. I question the theological background of the pastor(s). How long have they been leading a chruch? How many churches have they led? What was the reason they no longer led at the other churches? And then I dig in to their answers. I end up upsetting the pastor, and rightly so I’d imagine, but the church I attend in the future will be the church whose pastor answers all my questions honestly. It’ll be like an interview for the most important job, only I don’t pay, I ask a lot of questions, no, I will not become a member until I feel that the pastor is Spirit led and I feel welcomed by the congregation. Tall order, but my journey along this path has many questions and I’m always searching for answers (in my bible, like all the time) and I come with a jaded church experience.
Can we talk about healing from this? I know I’m not the only one who has left a church and been heartbroken by the church and heartbroken for leaving.
Can we talk about healing for those who have been harmed by a member of the church? Can we talk about healing from wounds that have created distrust with the church? Can we share these burdens with each other so that we can support, uplift, encourage and offer support and comfort to each other? After all, isn’t that one of the many functions of a church?
Can we please?
Can we do this…please