When Church Hurts...

Remember yesterday when I said that I HATE confrontation? 

Yeah… About that…

Anyone who sets himself up as “religious” by talking a good game is self-deceived.

This kind of religion is hot air and only hot air.

Real religion, the kind that passes muster before God the Father, is this:

Reach out to the homeless and loveless in their plight,

and guard against corruption from the godless world.

– James 1:26-27 (the Message)

This morning, I’m feeling compelled to share some hard things. I have to admit, I’ve been ‘skirting’ the issue for days & I didn’t sleep much last night… instead I went rounds & rounds with God on bringing this piece of my heart to light. You see, I like nothing better than to remain positive & affirming. It is my hope today, that even in such a tough topic as hurt in the church, I will be able to communicate not only my heart but God’s passion & desire for us to truly love each other.  

Here is my experience: 

It was communion Sunday. My little family sat tightly together in the pew & the music began to play… as we bowed our heads to search our hearts & pray over the elements I found my heart completely broken. I was so hurt by someone in leadership of our church & I was angry. I felt betrayed. Unsupported. Devalued. Unloved. When the bread came to me, I chose to let it go by. Tears filled my eyes. My boys, perched on either side of me, looked at me inquisitively. “Mumma? What’s wrong?” Josh mouthed. That was it. With tears pouring down my face I ran for the door. I climbed into my van & sped home to the safety of my little house on the lake. 

Recently, I read a beautiful letter written to the ‘church’ by Beck Gambill, a fellow pastor’s wife. She articulates what I felt that day & many days since perfectly: 

“Here I am now. Over twenty years since those early (ministry) days of wide eyed wonder. Years have slipped by since that first breathless commitment to serve. And I bear the battle scars of that love. You can't see them, like the scars of motherhood that stretch across my skin, these lines are etched in my heart. In secret places. But they're there. I feel them at night sometimes, throbbing in the darkness. They don't hurt after a careless word or thoughtless action, no those happen in life, all of us say things we regret. It's after my husband is devalued or his gifts mocked, it's when his honor is questioned, or my love isn't good enough. It's when we become invisible or worse, the enemy. When I see young believers devoured, heavy laws laid across their backs, and the hunger for grace creeps into their expression. It's when Jesus is obscured by fear or pride or envy or hate and the blame lies at our feet. Because we've called sin by its real name and, really, rebellion is easier than love. That's when my scars hurt.

I haven't been in a location yet that didn't leave a scar. At first I flinched and resented the marring. But I don't anymore, at least most days. I've seen some men and women develop resentment and run away. I understand that but I can't do it. I think it's because I love your Bridegroom more than I love you and my love for him gives my love for you value, meaning, and purpose. And of course I recognize that I'm not guiltless. I've let you down too. Your heart bears the marks of my shortcomings and graceless moments.
 
But I have a request. Instead of me loving in spite of and through it all, why not let's try something new? Why not allow me to love you and you love me back. Like I'm your friend or daughter or sister, your very own, and we belong to each other because we belong to Christ. And let's not forget him. Let's do everything for his sake and by his Spirit as if he's more important than blue jeans, and coffee in the sanctuary, and favorite songs, and drums on the worship band, and you sat in my pew. Because then maybe I wouldn't be embarrassed inviting a neighbor to church and maybe they'd come and just maybe they'd see Jesus too."

http://beckfarfromhome.blogspot.com/2012/07/letter-to-church-from-pastors-wife.html?m=1

I cannot begin to express to you the depth of my heart when I say. I know many of you bear your own scars. Some put there by brothers & sisters in our midst. I implore you to give these hurts over to the One who knows you best or if it is you that has done the scarring, GO... for the sake of the Gospel, make these things right. 

I LOVE you… Please…I beg you... choose grace... choose to LOVE each other. 

"We need to stop giving people excuses not to believe in God.

You've probably heard the expression 'I believe in God, just not organized religion'.

I don't think people would say that if the church truly lived like we are called to live."

–Francis Chan, Crazy Love: Overwhelmed by a Relentless God