Author: Through Grace

I was raised in a somewhat unhealthy church group within the Nondenominational Christian Church. After graduating high school, I began attending a United Pentecostal Church (UPC). I've been a member of four UPC churches and visited many others. Of the four of which I was a member, I was "encouraged" not to leave the first and then later sent to the second; attended the second where an usher repeatedly attempted to touch me and the pastor told me I should not care about the standards of the organization and was wrong to do so; ran to a third at that point, which threw me out after a couple years; and walked out of a fourth. For these transfers and because I refused to gossip about my former churches, some called me a "wandering star, a cloud without water" (Jude 1:12). I love the fact that when the blind man was healed, questioned by the Pharisees and temple rulers, and expelled from the temple, Jesus went and sought him out. He very rarely did this once someone was healed, but for this man, he did. I believe God has a special place in his heart for those who are abused, wrongfully accused, or condemned by religious leadership. I believe He loves those who are wronged by churchianity--yes, churchianity, not Christianity, because those who do these wrongs follow a church, not Christ. 1 John 4:7-8 7 Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. 8 He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love. 9 In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him. 10 Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. 11 Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another.

My Battle With Fears

I am afraid. I suppose I’ve never stopped being afraid since the night I was told I was being thrown out permanently and might not even be able to be saved. Seventeen years ago. And I’m still afraid. I can ignore the fears for awhile… as long as I’m not trying to connect in a church. But as soon as I find a church that might work, as soon as I start to feel myself starting to grow, to relax, to trust, I jerk away. I run. What if it’s not a safe place? What if it’s another unhealthy group? What if I’m missing something or deliberately overlooking something, some warning, some red flag… what if these people can’t be trusted?

I can’t very well walk into a church and say, “So, are you healthy? Are you abusive? Can I trust you?” I wish I could. But it would do no good because the unhealthy ones would lie anyway. And the others would begin wondering if they could trust me.

There are times a person has to take the risk of trusting, but to risk the kind of hurt that an entire group can inflict on one… That’s a big risk. Is it a risk worth taking? I can’t say. I haven’t been able to get past the fear to take that risk yet. I’d like to, and if the outcome is positive, it would be very worth it. So I either have to get over wanting to be part of a local group of believers or stop running away. But it’s going to be a difficult process, and I’m afraid.

You Might be a Controlling Church/Pastor if…

Adapted from an article by V David Weiss, LPC.

The original article regarded how to know if you were being a controlling spouse.

You Might be a Controlling Church/Pastor if…

… you’ve ever told your members what to wear or how to look because you like certain styles.
… you don’t disclose how offerings are spent.
… you’ve ever said anything similar to “My church, my rules.”
… you believe that arguments are either won or lost and you hate to lose.
… you often have to raise your voice to get your point across.
… your members have to ask your permission before making major decisions.
… you often yell at members for not doing what you want.
… you check up on your members’ personal lives.
… you criticize the way members parent their children.
… you deny being controlling although others often tell you that you are.
… you get angry at members for not following your advice.
… you’ve ever gotten angry at members for visiting other churches.
… you need to know members’ whereabouts at all times.
… you’ve ever checked up on members to confirm that they were where they said they would be or were doing what you think they should.
… you make it difficult for members to have friends or visit family who aren’t a part of your church.
… you’ve ever told members that they need to be more submissive.
… you’ve ever blamed members for mistakes that you made.
… you insist on including “obey” in wedding vows.
… you rarely feel the need to say “I’m sorry” to members.
… you’ve ever withheld affection, attention, or services as punishment.
… you’ve ever denied that a member told you something when you knew that she did.
… you’ve ever said that you were “just joking” after insulting or ridiculing someone.
… you often criticize those who aren’t members… or aren’t your favorite members.
… you’ve ever told members to do something because it was for their own good.
… you often find fault with any decision that a member makes without your input.
… you’ve ever convinced members that they were wrong, knowing that they were right.
… you feel you can do things better than anyone else in the church.
… someone handed this list to you and said, “You need to read this.”

~Taken from David Weiss’s website. [2023 Edit: Website no longer available, so link was removed.]

Being church

I came to visit, fairly shaken by the things I’ve seen, heard, and experienced that call themselves Christian in America today. I was spiritually, emotionally tired of all of it, and just about ready to walk away in disgust, not from God, but definitely from everything that called itself ‘of God’ in my society. And then I walked through your doors and into your life.

You know that story about the new pastor who dressed as a beggar, walked in, and was shunned? Yeah, I know the feeling. I saw eyes avert and people walk away. I notice when no one says good morning. You say every Christian should go to church, but I haven’t found much Christianity within churches. Do you realize it would be easier to come if someone acted like they cared that I was there? Someone besides the one asking for or receiving (or being paid by the funds of) the offering? Do you know that I have a pretty good memory… and when you tell me that you treat visitors and attenders pretty much the same but then ignore my questions, or tell me that you address a certain question I ask in your small groups (which emailed you asking to join and never heard back from you on)… or worse, let me know that you really focus on members, not the rest of us, when I do ask questions… that I remember your first response and count that as a sign of untrustworthiness?

Do you realize that those rare times when you take the time to hear me, when you answer a question or even just say hello because you mean it, I see that too? Do you know that if you’d love me you might find a great deal to love about me, that if you’d put into me some of what you expect out of me–if you’d give me some of your time, some care and compassion and understanding, you might get the same?

You might. I could be mistaken, but I believe you are supposed to reach out to the world, not expect the world to come knocking at your door. I believe the intent is that you love one another and all the rest of us too.

It’s a little strange. The things that have impacted me most over the years have been a simple chaplain’s prayer, a pastor who was willing to change a tire, and a friend’s happiness that I came. Nothing major, and no program. Those things cost nothing, but they meant everything. I was in an office, in a parking lot, at a restaurant, in a home. There were no steeples, no mics, no bulletins, no bibles. And yet at those times I experienced true church.

A blessing or a curse?

In our former churches we may have been led to believe that blessings were certain things–we might be blessed with health, finances, spouses, kids, or certain talents, for instance. What ways have you been blessed that may not have seemed like blessings at the time? Were you ever told you were NOT blessed in some way that actually for you was a blessing?

I think the primary blessing I received is probably the hardest–I had to leave my former church. Everyone, including me, thought leaving was the ultimate “bad” thing in life. But today I realize that this was the greatest blessing I could have received. It wasn’t fun… it was one of the hardest things I have ever done and that decision and the fall out from it continues to impact my life. Still, I am so thankful that I left when I did, and that I got out before the arrest of another member that later took place.

I’ve also laughed at things people told me were blessings–I was “blessed” with great jobs… no one knew I was making not much over minimum wage even with a college degree. They only saw the outside. They didn’t realize I ate so much pasta (it was cheap) that I still 20 years later can’t stand the thought of making it most of the time. Also, some said I wasn’t blessed like they were because I didn’t have a husband or kids… it sounded as though they were blaming me or looking down on me. At the same time I looked at what I could see of their lives and wondered at how they could even make it through another day with all the trials they seemed to have. We all deal with things differently. Comparing ourselves among ourselves isn’t wise.

The push to see blessings and cursings has disturbed me. What looks like a blessing from the outside may be a daily struggle for the person living it, and what may look like a curse may be a blessing in disguise. So to label something one way or the other might sometimes create a lot of heartache where there could be joy. Because you never know… and even the things that we see as bad could turn into blessings just because God can still create something out of nothing.

Shattered worlds

I sat in a membership class at a church–not planning to become a member, but it’s a good way to figure out what they are really thinking. A lot comes out in membership classes that aren’t discussed on Sunday mornings.

And this class was on church community… and church discipline. I was expecting to be guarded. I wasn’t expecting the leader to begin by making a list of all the things we hold dear (family, friends, God, etc) and then reordering them so that there was a cross (to represent Jesus) in the middle and all the other things (family, friends, etc) around it. And I realized what went most terribly wrong: when Jesus and a church group or doctrine are too closely combined and Jesus/church becomes the nucleus of your life and most of your friends, family, etc, are in that church too… when something goes wrong in that church it doesn’t just make you redirect and refocus on Jesus. It blows your world apart.

I started shaking. I couldn’t stop. I don’t think I was shaking hard enough for others to notice… at least I hope. But then there was the second ‘hit’… church discipline. And I started shaking harder. Nothing was said that raised any red flags; there were actually things said that were surprisingly healthy. I also suspect that there were things not said, but that could be more my lack of trust in anyone or any entity that says those words.

Everyone disappeared afterward, so I am OK. But the idea that it wasn’t just that church fell apart, but that my world was shattered when I left… that is both helpful and frightening. Too many churches end up being the center of people’s lives along with Jesus. And that’s not good. Not good at all.