I’ve been hurt by the church. I’ve been going to church since I was just a few days old. My parents served in their local church years before I was born. We grew up going to church every Sunday and most Wednesday nights. My dad led worship when I was very young, served with the sound in every church we attended, and still sings in a Southern Gospel Quartet that travels around and sings for churches and has never accepted a fee of any kind. My mother sang along with my dad when we were really little and served during Vacation Bible Schools when we were growing up.
My sisters and I were all dedicated members of our church’s youth group once we moved to Marshalltown and we all were members of the drama and puppet teams. Service to others was essentially ingrained in us and we all served on missions trips all over the US and abroad collectively to Bolivia, Mexico, Guatemala, India, Sierra Leone, and the Ukraine. We grew up going to camp in both the summer and winter. We grew up memorizing scripture in exchange for “bible bucks” that would take off fees for previously mentioned trips. We grew up knowing every word to every hymn. I can still recite word for word how the pastor would lead communion. Religion and our faith was very much a focal point for our family. We definitely weren’t perfect, but that is what we knew.
I tell you that background to share that I have some foundation for faith. I’m not a stranger to the Church, yet I have often been a stranger IN the church.
It was not until I was an adult that I felt I truly experienced the community and love that the Church should be. It happened on the other side of the world with a group of strangers that quickly became family. It took an entire summer, but the walls that church dogma built in my life finally came tumbling down. I finally and truly felt like I was unconditionally loved and seen by people other than my family. I was truly accepted and they believed in me more than I could hope to believe in myself. Through our experience on the other side of the world, for the first time, I realized that faith was more than just words. Faith is action. It is more than a building, more than a place to go twice a week. It should be and can be an Acts-like church. A body of broken humans loving other broken humans and pointing them to Jesus. For the first time, I accepted that my faith had nothing to do with anything other than a relationship with Jesus. Not with the church, but with the creator of the church.
Let me backup a little bit. I am extremely grateful for how I was raised and the upbringing my parents provided. My family is very tight knit and I think they had this all figured out prior to my light bulb moment. My parents raised my sisters and I the way I want to raise my children. Loving Christ and loving others next.
However, I would not say that about the churches we belonged to. There was nothing wrong with those churches, I just never realized I was missing a big piece of faith. When I was growing up in most of the churches we attended, there was a big emphasis about how one appeared. Not really physically. I just don’t ever remember people being honest about…well anything. If someone was struggling with this or that…we would pray for them. Which is great, but we wouldn’t DO anything.
I witnessed arguments among adults in the church about what color the new carpet should be. I saw MANY families leave churches over petty arguments and disagreements. I remember many times people being so cruel and hurtful to leadership and those serving the church. The church is made up of broken humans as we all fall short and hurt people hurt people. So much emphasis and focus of Western churches is the dogma…the tradition, the big flashy lights, the attendance numbers, and the fanfare. We collectively lack intimacy with Christ.
Ryan and I began attending church together before we were married. In the four years we have been married we have been hurt by the (big and little c) church. Okay, so when I say “Church” I mean a group of humans that collectively worship together. People are all broken. People say and do hurtful things. People want to impress other people. People (including us) are basically horrible creatures. Our decision to foster definitely affected and changed friendships. People supported us until it got hard and sticky to do so. Our children of other races have been treated differently in worship spaces. We have never felt like we belonged.
Recently, as I was entering a church, the greeter told one my one year old son he was too old to have a pacifier and popped it out of his mouth. Mind you, we don’t know this person at all. My son has much anxiety about new places and people and he is one years old…allowing him a pacifier can help him in hard situations. Short term solution that we as a family will address. Strangers don’t get an opinion.
It has only been self proclaimed christians who have referred to my children as “borrowed” or their birth parents as their “real parents.” It is only self proclaimed christians that have encouraged me to quit when things got hard. It is only self proclaimed christians that have told me that I am so lucky to have adopted kids that look like me.
Our family individually and collectively have been ignored and forgotten. We have been made to feel different and not good enough. I was told that protecting our children by staying home early in the pandemic was “living in fear.” I was told that it was my personal choice to be lonely. I reached out to many old friends regarding my feelings about this and I was told time and time again that it was my choice to feel this way. The hardest part is feeling this way and then walking into the building with those same people who said and did hurtful things to you and worship with them as if nothing happened. That will always make me so sick to my stomach and honestly sad.
Friends, if you have been made to feel this way by the church, please listen to this:
The church is made up of humans. Who are hurtful and sinful by nature. They do not depict or represent God who is not hurtful or sinful at all. I struggle so much with western Christianity. So often, I think we are so busy worshiping the church that we forget Jesus. We forget that people around us need tangible and real action. They don’t just need us to pray for them. They need us to pray for them AND love them. They need us to do life with them. Jesus called us to love the orphans and widows. The immigrant, the different, the hard to love. Those are the people Jesus spent his time with. If you have ever walked in a church full of people and had never felt more lonely, please know that you aren’t alone.
One day, I pray my family will find a body of believers in Jesus that we will finally belong to. We will finally not have to feel like we need to be ashamed of our choices. I pray for a community that I feel safe raising my children in. One day, hopefully soon, we will find people that want to give up christianity to follow Jesus.
If you have been hurt by the church and need space and time to heal–me too. KNow that you aren’t alone. Focus your eyes on things above and don’t give up.
Jesus wins.
Sidenote: I know that we…specifically I have probably done some of the hurting in the last 18 months. I am just as guilty about the hurt and anger as those that hurt me. Maybe one day we can reconcile. If I have ever been a part of a church that you have been hurt by, my heart is heavy and I truly am sorry.
Koko
Kourtney,
What an inspiring and helpful article! I can relate to many of the statements, Like you I feel unloved and unappreciated at times. When I married your Uncle Butch, I gained a large new family. But now, all of you have moved away from here and we are alone. Formerly, I dreaded those big family gatherings at Grandma’s but now how I wish we could have at least one meal a year together! My own family in Tennessee is decreasing–only my brother and sister-in-law. Their kids and grandkids don’t know me because we don’t know them and aren’t close enough to visit. I have maybe one true friend in the church, but Jesus is my Rock and Shield who helps me to stand firm in my faith and protects me from the hurtful things humans THINK I need to hear. Trust Him to give you what and when you need your family. You have a family that cares and loves you, Ryan and the boys! Love you!