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Church Secrets, Part 2

Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Elizabeth Burger’s blog. It was originally published on October 20, 2016.

Note: this post contains some names that were changed to protect the people mentioned. Any name with an asterisk [*] next to it has been changed. This is part 2 in a series. You can find part 1 here.

I shared the gist of the letter with my family at a shared meal. They immediately defended the pastor and the church elders saying that perhaps it was simply how our denomination operated, and that I should check the book of church order to see what I could find there. So I went upstairs after lunch and did a google search and began skimming the book (which was online for easy access) to find anything relevant.

Unbeknownst to me, one of my sisters decided she would help me out by e-mailing the pastor my question. She carbon copied me in the e-mail. Below I have the entire e-mail history, only taking out things that would hurt the anonymity of my sister and family.

Hello Pastor John*, March 12, 2015 11:28 AM

I have a question for you.

When a member leaves the church (local church), is there a set protocol (from the Small Reformed Church* book of Church order) that the leadership takes in dealing with the member? Elizabeth has been looking for the answer in the book of Church order, but hasn’t found anything yet.

We are trying to understand why things happened the way they did with a lot of our friends who have left SRC, and wanted to see if we could find some answers.

Let me know your thoughts when you have a moment. 🙂

In Him,
Sister*

Meanwhile, I had found the answers I was searching for. Most of what was in the letter was called for as a part of our denominations rules. (if you want to read the specifics look here (sections 46.1-4 and 38.3b and 38.4).

March 12, 2015 12:48 PM
The quick answer (and I’d be happy to go through it more detailed in person if you like) is that the BCO (chap 37?) details how we should handle people leaving a local church.

If they a) go to another Bible believing, gospel preaching church we transfer them, if they b) go to an apostate or heretical church we call them back, or c) if they just stop coming to any church we call them back, and if they refuse, we warn them. In the last year (my tenure here), we’ve had people in all three categories.

Though we hate to see anyone leave, if people move to another church in situation A, we wish them well. If it is B or C, we have a duty to lovingly call them back, or urge them to A, because a person who moves to an apostate church, or breaks fellowship with the church permanently is a person who moves into a Matthew 18 category.

Again, I’m happy to talk to you, or your sister, about this in more detail in person, or Elizabeth can call me.

I may not be able to discuss every situation (as it wouldn’t be fair to the people involved) but I’m happy to speak as plainly and openly about any situation as I can.

See you soon.

John* Last Name

——-
March 12, 2015 2:00 PM
I erred a moment ago because I was not at the office. I just looked up the appropriate chapters. Look at chapter 46.1-4 and chapter 38.3b and 38.4 for more.

Also, and I may be jumping the gun or getting this totally turned around, but in certain cases where people leave or break with a church, they may claim to have been mistreated, or may tell tales of woe. This may be the case. But, it may not. Often only portions of the truth are told.

Feel free to talk to me or the other elders if you or Elizabeth feel we have mistreated anyone. Though we are not perfect, in my time here, I’m happy to answer to you and ultimately to God for any action we’ve taken.

John* Last Name

——-
March 12, 2015 3:49 PM
If you wanted to, another possible avenue would be for you to meet with the session if you have specific concerns. I would not want you or your sister or anyone at Small Reformed Church to feel we were hiding something from you.

Let me know if you or Elizabeth would be interested in that.

John* Last Name

During this time, I had spoken with two deacons’ wives and other families who had left. I was planning on speaking with the elders families when I came back home again for summer break (I was on my spring break at this point).

As part of one of my classes (Speech Communications), I was assigned to interview my home pastor over spring break on the topic of church communications (ironic, right??). My family was incredibly busy over my two-week spring break. I wrote the pastor this e-mail hoping to be able to ask him my interview questions via e-mail.

Dear Pastor John*, March 17, 2015 10:13 PM

I wanted to write you about two things. First, would you be willing to answer some questions for a school project I have? It’s for a group project in my speech class. My group choose to study and present on the topic of church communication. As a group we decided that we would all “interview” our home church pastor’s and ask them some specifics that they had seen in their experience to help us with the project. I would try to meet, but my break is almost over and it’s been crazy due to the play that Sister* and Sister* are in this weekend. Let me know! Thanks. 🙂

Also, would it be possible to get an electronic or paper copy of the letter sent out to the church at the end of last November regarding the Doe* family? I would really like to read it myself, and my parents no longer have their copy.

Thanks for your time,

Elizabeth Burger

He wrote me back within the hour, with this urgent response.

Elizabeth, March 17, 2015 11:02 PM

I’m happy to meet with you and, in fact, I ask you to please juggle things to meet with me while you’re still in town. I can make the time in the next 3 days to do that.

The reason I’d like so much to meet with you relates to what Sister* asked me last week on your behalf, and what I’ve learned about church communication. Things like this can go south quickly. I’m happy to meet and attempt to clear the air and hopefully avoid that outcome.

I respect you as an adult member of our church, I love you as a sister in Christ and I want to communicate with you as seamlessly, clearly, and honestly as possible.

As we don’t know each other that well, I would understand if you wanted another woman there. My wife, Elder 1’s Wife*, or Elder 2’s Wife* might be available to meet with us.

Let’s find a time to meet.

John* Last Name

During January, my counselor had recommended I read the book, Boundaries, by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend. This letter was one of my first attempts to set my own boundaries with a person in authority.

March 18, 2015 1:17 PM
Thank you for your quick response. I am actually only interested in meeting to do the interview for my class at this time. For spring break I just need to talk about the class assignment and get your thoughts on specific questions that my group came up with.

I recognize the importance of talking about other things. My mom and I don’t have a lot of time, but if you wanted to share anything about the church I would be willing to listen. I do not have any specific questions for you at this time (regarding church things), but I would be happy to listen and not say or ask anything. So if you wanted to speak to anything you feel is an issue I would be okay listening, but I will not take questions or speak from my perspective right now. I am at an information gathering point right now. So, if you want to share your story of any of the church things I will gladly listen and take note. I would also like a copy of the letter that was sent to all of the church members. I was 19 at the time, and separate from my family (away at college). So I’d like a copy if you still have it anywhere on file, which should be easy enough. If you’ve changed anything in the letter you’re more than welcome to speak to me about that when we meet, but I still want to see it for myself.

That paragraph was way too long, haha. 😀 Basically, my mom can meet anytime tonight after 6:05pm. I realize this is not even in your regular office hours and it would take away time from your family. But that is the only time she is able to meet and I’d like to meet with you with her there (as you mentioned yourself, it would be good to have someone else around). We could meet for up to an hour of time if you’re available.

I’ll be checking my e-mail all throughout the day, so just let me know whenever you receive this and if you still want to meet and are available at the unusual time. Oh, mom said we can meet anywhere in Small Town* that you’d like to meet.

In summary (if the above is too long to read): I’d love to interview you tonight at 6:05 (or later) and after the interview if you want to talk about any Small Reformed Church* stuff that has happened since you’ve been here, you’re welcome to share your perspective and I will listen. I won’t talk about my perspective or answer questions, just listen. We could meet for up to an hour for the interview and anything else. I also want a copy of the letter sent to the church in November/December. If we don’t meet today (due to it being a crazy time or other circumstance) I would still appreciate a copy of the letter on Sunday, when I come to church. And thank you for answering Sister’s* e-mails.

Thank you for your time,

Elizabeth Burger

This was his response.

Elizabeth, March 18, 2015 2:43 PM

I will not be meeting with you tonight. I can’t agree to the terms you are setting out. Quite simply, it ignores our call to love one another and be in relationship.

I’m not sure where all of this is coming from, but your response seems to be extremely disrespectful and accusatory. I’m not sure what I’ve done to warrant that tone, and you say you are unwilling to speak to it. I’ve tried to invite you in to discuss whatever concerns you have adult to adult, but you are unwilling. If at a later point you would like to speak adult to adult, please let me know. Adults in loving Christian relationship have dialogue. They ask and answer questions. They disagree and discuss. When you’re ready for that, please let me know. I’d welcome it.

The best I can do at this point is get you a copy of the letter as you’ve requested that the session sent to the congregation. Send me your school address and I will be sure a copy is mailed to you. I’ll make sure your info is included in the next directory.

No matter what, I hope and pray that the Lord will bless you in every way.

John* Last Name

Wow.

Let’s just breathe for a second before we process this letter.

He told me that, “I respect you as an adult member of our church,” and then one e-mail letter, when I no longer met his requirements for how adults communicate, he was no longer willing to speak to me “adult to adult”. He also became hyper defensive and blamed me of being extremely disrespectful and accusatory. I’ll grant that my letter was poorly written, and quite wordy.

Sometimes adults also listen to other people (who says this is only for adults? Children are people too) and don’t give their opinions right then and there. Sometimes we give people space to share. Sometimes we dialogue. Sometimes we debate. Sometimes we sit silently together. There are many forms of “adult” (really, all people) communication. What do you think we did every Sunday at your church, pastor John??? You stand up front and talk to us, and we do not respond (verbally) at all. We sit quietly and usually listen and take notes.

I’m sorry that you did not think I was worth being in a loving relationship with (does that sound creepy to you at all?!) because I wasn’t ready to state my own thoughts on the church secrets. Well, now I am. More on this later, but I will now be seen as someone who is gossiping and destroying the “purity” of the church.

My question is this: If the church is actually pure, why do we hide in the shadows and the darkness? Why do we threaten people? Why do we force our own definitions of things onto them? Where is the love that is talked about so much?

Floating on a rebel tide

Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Eleanor Skelton’s blog. It was originally published on December 14, 2014.

I’m shooting for the stars to hit the moon
Mapping out a course for both my shoes,
I’ve already practiced acting like there’s nothing to it.
– Jellyrox, Rebel Tide

Some days I’m still lost.

Some days independence still knocks the breath out of me, and I’m reeling.

I’m split.

Over two years ago, I cracked, couldn’t live under the burdens anymore. And I left.

But I didn’t know how lonely I’d be, how long and cold winters could last outside in exile.

Try to hold the world together in my mind,
Try to make it snow in mid-July,
Try to prove my heart is worth the blood that’s pumping through it.

Some days I’m so cold. I warm my hands against favorite memories, hoping one day the frost will be over.

Looking for the light in the dark, the sunshine behind the shadow.

I try to keep my hopes above my doubts
Try to keep my thoughts above my mouth
I feel like a satellite just dying to leave my orbit…

I’m homesick. My friends noticed it reached unprecedented levels.

My friends have my back, my mentors believe in me. Somehow I’ll find the courage to keep walking, even if my steps are slow.

I take another shot at faking love
Miss it by a mile and then some
My insides are thirsty for whatever drink you’re pouring…

I’m tired all the time. The end of the year comes in like a tsunami, the semester drenches me. Maybe it’s senioritis, maybe the panic put a constant drain on my spirit.

I thought this biting wind would have moved on by now. Didn’t think the season would be so quiet a third time.

But they told me my freedom would have a price. Someday I’ll write about why.

And it takes you by surprise, like a rebel tide
Like lightning from the sky has been searching for you
And it splits you like a knife, the moment that it strikes
When you realize that death was looking for you.

I count the times I nearly died.

When the ether of death filled my nostrils, when I believed the only option was to slaughter my dreams, to bury them. Then reborn desires crowd around me, remind me of all the times I’d left them for dead.

Telling me my longings are real, blowing on my numb hands so I don’t freeze over.

Praying like a child Christmas Eve
Father, won’t you raise the son early?
I ask an awful lot of both my knees just waiting for you.

Amen, Like, Share if you love Jesus

I have a friend on Facebook who posts lots of “memes” as I think they are called. She used to post many that were actually uplifting and encouraging. Not sure why this has changed but she is 80 now. Maybe that is why, I don’t know. However, the ones she posts now that are supposed to be spiritual are really not. I think she thinks they are helpful.

The one that set me off today (I usually just ‘hide’ them and go on) made me think of some of the preaching in my ex-church. I hid it before I really got it memorized but what it said was “Hi, I’m Jesus. If you ignore me 3 times here, I will ignore you in Heaven.” The rest was the usual “Type Amen, like, share and are not ashamed of Me, if you don’t want to be ignored” and the unstated was “and go to Hell.” She is still part of a church that preaches the doctrine and fear. But when I see those memes I am brought back to those sermons that were meant to instill fear, guilt, shame into you to make sure you showed up in church, did everything the pastor said (even if you disagreed).

I am not ashamed of Jesus. He is the reason I am here. He has carried me for a long time through all the bad and all the good in my life. But I just can’t share those things that are meant to shame you into sharing and probably are something contrived just to see how many likes and shares that meme will get. It still triggers emotions in me that I thought were laid to rest.

Help my unbelief

Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Eleanor Skelton’s blog. It was originally published on October 27, 2014.

I’m often told by friends and blog readers that my “vibrant Christianity” is inspiring, that I “maintain remarkable stability in the face of incredible odds.”

But I wonder if they’d still say that if they knew the me who sometimes wonders if spirituality is real or just a coping mechanism for survival, the me whose panic drags her to the toilet the morning of an exam. The twenty-something whose anxiety causes her to still jump and feel a rush of shame redden my ears when a supervisor approaches me at work, even if nothing is wrong.

So why do I stay? Why do I cling to Jesus?

The other day, I admitted to my friend Cynthia Jeub:

I explained it to my friend Aaron, who recently wrote a blog series on coming out as an atheist, like this:

“I know none of the things my heart wants to be true can be scientifically proven. I believe there is a God because I think I have experienced His presence. And I really admire this guy Jesus whether he was God or not. I think he was an incredible guy who didn’t take religious bullshit, and who wanted justice for the oppressed. And more than anything? I’d like to be like him and to shake the world up. But that’s all I know for sure anymore.”

But this is my story, and my other friends have different stories. I am finding healing within the context of Christianity, and my fragile faith is becoming my own. But not everyone does.

I’ve heard many people say your view of God is nearly identical to your view of your father.

So when friends have needed to leave their dysfunctional homes, sometimes their healing journey makes it necessary for them to leave Christianity entirely.

One friend described it as “ditching God” to “unravel the Good and Bad Shepherd.”

R.L. Stollar, community coordinator for Homeschoolers Anonymous, writes in his post The Scarlett Letter of Unbelief: “It’s hard enough on its own, this thing called belief. Life is filled with pain and suffering and when those elements get overwhelming, they reveal how fragile belief can be.”

Like my friends, I have tossed out all but the raw heartbeat of my faith, eliminating the poison for the cure. Finding what remained after the shattering. And only now can I safely rebuild.

Modern evangelical Christianity often values faith so highly that it fears the doubters. But as I commented on R.L. Stollar’s post last year, “the church needs to recognize that it is okay to be sad and okay to be messy and okay to be broken.”

What shows a “doubter” the Jesus we’ve read about more: an understanding hug, a cup of hot chocolate and Kleenex, or some memorized Bible verse thrown at them over and over until it has lost all meaning?

I don’t know how to explain the beautiful friends who were Jesus for me after I got kicked out of a church two years ago: some were agnostic or Buddhist or Catholic or Baptist. One of them was my pastor friend who played Jesus over 20 years ago.

And as I replied to Cynthia Jeub:

Why I Left: Part 4

Continued from Part Three.

This next part is pretty painful and I had trouble remembering the order of the next series of events which was mostly psychological warfare I felt from the pulpit.

When the senior pastor came back from his long recovery from surgeries, during the preaching, it seemed he started covertly addressing me. He said: “Sometimes issues in churches get swept under the rug and later the debris comes out.” Then he made eye contact with me. He went on and I don’t remember his words but he seemed to imply indirectly that it was getting taken care of now. Apparently, he saw something, questioned it, and something was acknowledged by the assistant pastor. Afterwards, I got a more overt message from behind the pulpit that I should say nothing. Now I got another long intense (almost threatening) stare and then he changed the subject. I believe that was the time he was most gentle from the pulpit. I felt somewhat blamed like it’s partly my fault.

It did seem like there was some form of mild discipline that happened to the assistant pastor. Because after that I didn’t see him preach or teach anymore. He also wasn’t making announcements or leading small groups that I know of.

Now, I don’t seem to be able to recollect what triggered the next time the senior pastor seemed to address me again from the pulpit, but my gut said it was a preemptive strike against me due to the pastor’s fear that I was going to spill it. I can only suspect after the discipline he read the email where I confronted his assistant pastor and he didn’t like feeling threatened that his long known right hand clergyman could be exposed in his own church, or he simply had an empathy imbalance for his assistant, or anger at the thought that I could divide the church or something. By the way, that senior pastor on different occasions has shown glimpses of his entitled and abusive nature. So let me backtrack a little bit and explain what was in that email in more detail.

As we know, Mathew 18:15 says:

Moreover if thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone: if he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother.

16 But if he will not hear thee, then take with thee one or two more, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established.

17 And if he shall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the church: but if he neglect to hear the church, let him be unto thee as an heathen man and a publican.

I did that when I emailed him. It was my way of confronting him alone through the email.

You may also recall 1 Timothy 5:19 says:

Against an elder receive not an accusation, but before two or three witnesses.

I actually also told him in that email that if it didn’t stop I had 3 semi witnesses.

Two sisters knew I were going through something but they didn’t exactly know what. The third one was the church counselor, and I felt she knew because it looked like she was especially vigilant with him, and she offered me a ride home, I assumed to keep me safe.

So when I emailed him I mentioned her name as a potential witness but, lo and behold, they happened to be friends for 40+ years and working together since the church started. (Note: She later told me this.)

In the email I wrote the names of the two other sisters. So I guess he felt threatened and spun it, throwing me under the bus. Why else couldn’t he simply just reply to me personally and say, I’m sorry, I think you misread me? And why was it necessary for him to bring the counselor into it? I believe this was a manipulative tactic on his part so he could mentally abuse or gaslight me while dodging responsibility. Later, I told that to the counselor and her face contorted for a split second like she found it humorous but then quickly hid it from me. Then she lectured me about the seriousness of accusing a pastor without witnesses.

Going back to the second time the pastor covertly addressed me “allegedly.” And I do say allegedly because I think I had PTSD. This time I was sitting next to a sweet old sister I knew. In the middle of a preaching he mentioned 1 Timothy 5:20 which reads:

Them that sin rebuke before all, that others also may fear. (which applies to elders who are sinning.) Well, what he was saying about that verse was: “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander,” if I recall accurately I believe his eyes went looking for somebody. I wasn’t sitting in my usual place. I was in the back.

He continued: “When somebody in church is sleeping around they should be disciplined from the pulpit.” I had a gut feeling this was a preemptive strike and a threat to lie about me to my face before the congregation in order to make darn sure I wouldn’t say anything.

But again, it was only a gut feeling. I cannot make a strong case he was talking to me but when I wrote him later about it, I got no response from him. I do remember his wife telling me later that I was imagining things.

Also, later that evening was a prayer meeting at church. The pastor was there and I prayed that God would help maintain that all of us would “Study to shew {ourselves} approved unto God, workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15). After the prayer meeting was over the assistant pastor had an impressed look on his face and tried to make eye contact with me but the senior pastor seemed like he was refusing to look at me at all. The next few scheduled prayer meetings didn’t take place, which was really not normal in the two years I had attended. I assume it’s because of me.

Those are all the reasons I believe that day from the pulpit he was trying to scare me. And how would I defend myself in light of that? It’s like getting hit in the stomach and taking awhile to catch your breath. Or it’s like getting hit in the head and then having to wait days to be able to think clearly again. And if I were able to regain my strength, how could I prove his lies wrong before the congregation?

Many of the sheep seem so emotionally and psychologically enmeshed to him and would blindly believe him without question. It reminds me of the phenomenon of Stockholm Syndrome. I also observed general complacent, blindfolded, mouths open waiting to be spoon-fed going on there. Unlike what I had observed in the congregation I was discipled in from a brand new baby Christian where I attended for about twelve years prior, where many seemed like Bereans. It was evident they study at home and where I was spurred on to do likewise.

To be continued.

See Parts One and Two.