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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.

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:

Church Secrets, Part 1

Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Elizabeth Burger’s blog. It was originally published on August 24, 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.

You can be amazing
You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug
You can be the outcast
Or be the backlash of somebody’s lack of love
Or you can start speaking up

Nothing’s gonna hurt you the way that words do
And they settle ‘neath your skin
Kept on the inside and no sunlight
Sometimes a shadow wins
But I wonder what would happen if you

Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

Innocence, your history of silence
Won’t do you any good
Did you think it would?
Let your words be anything but empty
Why don’t you tell them the truth?
– Brave, Sara Bareilles

“We don’t remember what they told us years ago. Stop asking people. You don’t want to start gossiping.” These are the messages I received from my parents and others when I started asking questions about a former church of mine, a small conservative reformed denomination (this clarification was always stressed, after all, we wouldn’t want people thinking we are part of our sister denomination, who were more liberal). Why all but one deacon and his family had left all those years ago. Why so many of my friends had switched churches. Why it still hurt and was unresolved. I needed to know. I could no longer let this unknown wound hurt me with no resolution or healing in sight.

So I started digging. This blog series (Church Secrets) will share some of the things I learned along the way. The reasons why I decided to leave my church. The reasons why I call it my ex-church instead of one of my former churches. The reasons why I currently do not attend church and struggle to trust any leaders in church.

It was November 2014. I went home early for Thanksgiving break so that I could see my counselor for a special 2 hour session to work through a large chunk of my major bad relationship (the one with the 40+ year old man online). I also got to visit some of my friends. Samantha*, one of my friends who had previously been a part of my church, started talking to me about what had happened. I thought she might know more because she and her family were close friends with some of the deacons and their families.

It had been over two years since Samantha and her family had left the church. A couple weeks before I visited them, they received a printed letter from the church. I’m going to quote the parts particularly relevant to this post below (click here to read the full letter). Pay close attention to the last paragraph in particular.

You may be worshipping with another Bible-believing church. If so, though we hate to lose you, please inform us so we can formally transfer your membership, or if you have already joined another body, please let us know so that we can remove you from the rolls. We wish you nothing but God’s greatest blessings on you and all you do.

The writer of Hebrews tells us “consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encourage one another…” We hope that we can be a church that does that for you. If you are not currently worshipping with another church, in love we urge you to either return to us (again, we’d love to have you back!) or find another part of Christ’s body to affiliate with where God’s Word is proclaimed, the Gospel is offered to sinners, the sacraments are given, and there is godly oversight by church leadership.

If you chose neither of these routes, the elders of our church will be forced to remove your name from our rolls, and we would consider you to have left the Church Universal and to not be covered by the blood of the Lamb, Jesus Christ.

I was shocked. I thought that excommunication ended hundreds of years ago. But no. It still goes on today. It went on at MY church. My own pastor and elders approved of this. And all you had to do was either not attend any church at all (because clearly all the sermons about not adding anything to the gospel were lies) or not attending a church that they approve of means you are not saved.

Yes. This actually happened. The leaders who I trusted and looked up to for over ten years were writing letters to former members informing them that they would treat them as unbelievers if they didn’t meet the right requirements.

Just thinking about this and re-reading everything over the last two days has kept me up until 6 am the other day. It’s been over a year now since I left my ex-church, and I’m finally able to start sharing some of the things that motivated me to leave. In future parts of this series I will be sharing: e-mails I received from the pastor when he learned that I was talking to former church members, a conversation I had regarding a former church ministry/outreach, a letter that was sent to all the members regarding a specific family who left, and more.

Part Two.

Purity Rings: How I reclaimed a patriarchal evangelical tradition

Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Eleanor Skelton’s blog. It was originally published on March 5, 2013.

I was one of those pre-teens longingly looking through the True Love Waits catalog back in the early 2000s. Wondering. Waiting.

Somehow, I wanted to believe that wearing one of these rings and promising to keep my thoughts pure and my body untouched would magically cause the man God had prepared for me to appear, just like Prince Charming of the fairy tales. I composed letters in my head to my future husband. I dreamed of the day when he would remove my purity ring from my finger and replace it with our engagement ring. I would save myself for him, and we would live happily ever after in the enjoyment of each other’s company.

My parents didn’t buy me a True Love Waits ring. Instead, on the Christmas I was 13, my dad gave me a simple tanzanite ring. I wore it until last year, when the gold band finally snapped.

I didn’t put it back on. And I haven’t repaired it yet. Someday, I probably will. But I was already questioning the thinking behind the purity movement of my teen years. Now don’t get me wrong. I still want to remain a virgin until marriage, and I think there is something to be said for seeking to live well. But now I have a different definition of purity.

Many Christian girls of my generation – including some of my closest friends – committed themselves to the “pure girls” movement, yet ended up wounded by it.

A blogger who posts under the pseudonym gracefortheroad explains it in a post called, “I don’t wait anymore.” She says, “A lot of girls were sold on a deal and not on a Savior” and ends with this thought, “I just didn’t want to wait anymore – didn’t want to live like I was waiting on anyone to get here. I already have Him … and He is everything.”

The Recovering Grace website has an article regarding the pitfalls of the emotional purity teaching prevalent ten years ago, which argues that if you have a crush, you are sinning and giving a piece of your heart away to someone or losing your emotional virginity. Believing these ideas caused me to become paranoid of hugging a guy friend or allowing myself to become attracted to a man.

Last year, my friend Anna G. shared a story with me called “The girl and the glass heart.” It confronts the lie that if I freely love, I am left with less to love other people with in the future. The lies that tell me that if I love and I am left heartbroken, I am tarnished and used up, unfit for another relationship. The Heart-Healer in the tale tells the girl:

“Only in brokenness can [your heart] truly be whole. …. Wholeness does not come from perfection. Wholeness comes from purpose. There is no purpose in a perfect heart. There is purpose in a broken one.”

I had forgotten about my old purity ring until a few weeks ago.

Last December, over Christmas break, I finally told someone about my history of self-harm throughout my childhood and my youth. For the first time, the darkest lies I believed and deepest wounds I carried flowed out of my heart in a 3 am chat powered by Mountain Dew.

Later, I bought two rings engraved with the words “Forgiven” and “Jesus” to remind myself of why I never need to punish myself. But when my friend Cynthia B. first saw them, she said, “Congratulations on your first real purity rings.”

I drew back and paused, then smiled. “Yes. They are my purity rings.” The rings I wear now are not to symbolize something I do or don’t do. They don’t have much to do with me at all.

Instead, these rings point to what He did. For me.