Church Hurt: A Reflective Post

I'm really tired of the "too blessed to be stressed" shirts and the "WWJD" bracelets. 

I'm tired of all of the presentation and drama that goes into productions on Sunday mornings. 

Whether it's the music, or the lights, or the coffee bars. 

I'm tired of production value, attendance numbers, and bragging to the congregation about how much money last weeks offering brought in.  

I used to almost live by the saying that 'hurt people, hurt people.' 

Now I think that hurt people try to keep other people from getting hurt, especially when it involves the ever-cliched, blogged about mess that is "church hurt." 

You see, people want to talk all about 'church hurt' and the toxic 'church hoppers' and people who never find joy in anything. The people who sit piously back on their pew seat and complain about the music, the praise team, the worship, about tithing, about offering, about the prayers, about the pastor, about the altar call- and then get up, spread lies, and move on to another church to do the same. 

However, every person I've ever met that has actually been hurt by a church or someone in it, has a different story to tell. 

Some people will tell you about how they sought help and were met with laughter and emptiness. 

One of my mom's friends will tell you about the local church she called for prayer when her grandchildren were taken into an abusive foster home that said, "Oh, we don't do that anymore!" and hung up the phone on her. 

Another friend of mine will tell you about how his friends abandoned him in favor of false indoctrination, and accused him of not being 'in the Word' enough. 

Some high school friends of mine got saved at a big production, and then were so alienated by the youth group at the church that they decided not to go back at all. It was easier to be in their new faith alone than it was to be surrounded by the believing peers at the church. 

One of my friends got radically saved and couldn't wait to tell me, only to be told by her family that she wasn't saved in the 'right kind of church' and that it didn't count. 

A local church near me is charging $3.50 for community children to come to Vacation Bible School. 

~ 

You guys know where I'm going with this, so I guess I'll get right into it. A couple of years ago, I posted one of my most shared blog posts ever. It contained a slam poem that I wrote regarding some people who really just broke me. They broke my heart. They challenged what I believed and wanted me to alter it, and when I stepped up and said no, and shared about it online (Hi, I do that, I'm a blogger, nice to meet ya!), and gained support, I lost friends and mentors and people in general. 

I never got right down to the nitty-gritty about what happened, so I'll tell you guys briefly right now. A couple of different stories about how I've been treated by people in church. 

When I was little, I was bullied in a couple of churches I went to. Girls put gum in my hair and teased me, teachers were unkind to me because I was a little bit different, and I was told to deal with it and not take a stand by those who liked to say that they had "spiritual authority" over the situation. 

("Spiritual authority" is a phrase that Christian leaders like to use right before they do something stupid, like tell you to drink the Kool-Aid, but we'll come back to that!)

Another time, some girls were picking on me at a youth retreat (I think I was nine?) and I stood up for myself. Told the bigger girls that they didn't get to be mean to me just because I was little. One of them started crying, and I was reprimanded for not behaving like the Lord expected me to. That confused me a little bit at the time- did Jesus want people to bully me? Were their actions justified? 

One time, I had this little TracFone that my dad had given me. I was so proud of that little phone, it was my first one and so I took it everywhere. I was much more into carrying purses when I was little, big purses with a lot of different crap in it, and so I added my little phone to the mix. It didn't even work as a phone, to be honest with you. I just carried it to feel cool. 

I always carried my little purses to the bathroom with me, because at the time I carried sprays and lotions. Just girly things, you know? I was a kid! This teacher told me not to take my purse to the bathroom 'because I might drop my phone in the toilet,' and when I told her that I was going to take it anyways because of everything else in it, she asked me to hand her the phone. I said no, because I was raised to have autonomy over myself and my stuff. She threatened to tell my parents that I was acting 'ungodly,' and humiliated me in front of the whole class. This is another person who justified the bullying that took place, and made me question if Jesus actually cared about me at all.

The biggest issue happened when I was in high school. I was, in some ways, a Jesus Freak. I wrote Bible verses on and in my journals, on my hands, talked about Jesus, went to church all the time, worked in church childcare, worked church camps, helped feed the community- and I loved it! 

Well, then all of my grandparents passed away. 

When my Grandad died, I was met with false sympathy and pious platitudes. 

When my Nana died later that same year, I was met with 'this was the Will of God' and 'Jesus must have wanted this.' So, I turned my back on God for a little while. I didn't want anything to do with the Bible, or with people in Church. 

I actually went to youth group a couple of times, and ended up at Winterfest in Tennessee. My life radically changed, at least a little bit. I got back into the swing of church, participated in a large scale production on Easter Sunday, and made some friends that I considered my family. I was on a drama team (aptly named), I worked this summer camp for foster kids, etc. etc. 

Y'all get it. In the words of Offred from the Handmaid's Tale- I was very pious with my actions. 

My Grammy passed away that following summer, and the last thing I ever told her about was that I lead a little girl to the Lord at summer camp. She was five, and that experience changed my life in a way too. She was so solemn and serious, and said the little prayer with me, and it blessed my socks off. I was told by leaders in that situation that she was 'too young to understand,' and that I hadn't really lead her to the Lord. 

I was saved when I was four. 

But anyways. 

I switched schools, and had a government class that also radically challenged everything I believed in. I think it's important to mention that my teacher was a Christian man, but he was also very adamant about teaching us to form our own opinions and arguments based on the factual information provided to us. My mind was blown by facts, and I sat on the liberal side of the classroom. We didn't vote for Trump, we were pretty liberal, sang emo anthems sometimes, and one girl spent every day recounting the latest episode she'd watched of Game of Thrones. 

These are important details, because these people encouraged me to think freely. Some of them were religious, some of them were atheist, and some of them didn't identify with any religion but had considered it.  

I went back to my church friends every week, and sometimes I shared about my newfound beliefs and passions, but usually kept my mouth shut because I didn't want to challenge anyone else's beliefs. I was raised to not be confrontational in the church. (I don't think my parents raised me that way, but someone along the way taught me to be quiet in church, and it stuck. For a little while, anyways.) 

I feel that it's important to mention here that I have two uncles. They are happily married, and I love them both very much. That's another thing that my granola corner taught me- to not judge people. The church never taught me that. 

Anyways, one night at church, a bunch of us were lumped into a room together. It was boys, girls, men, and women- ages eleven to probably twenty-five or twenty-six. The message that night was on sex, and mostly about women and their role in the church, and how sex played into that. The message was basically about how a woman is defined by her purity, and once it's gone, she is of no real interest to the church or to a future husband. 

Everything in my body came to a screeching halt.  

Like, there are children in this room.  

Impressionable children.  

More importantly- impressionable young women. 

That someone just shoved into two boxes: worth-it, and worthless. 

Everything that makes them unique had just been diminished into what was between their thighs, and more importantly, who had been there. 

Nobody talked about the spiritual side to sexuality, or even about how it's meant for more than just procreation. I mean, read the Song of Solomon! (Also, remember that Solomon had many wives and concubines, and then reread the Song of Solomon with that mindset. It's a different sort of experience!) 

Forgiveness wasn't really discussed as an option, just encouraged. But only for those that had been tempted, not for those that had given in. 

Because fuck those people, am I right? 

(This is massively pun intended, if it upsets you, I'm really not that sorry about it.) 

Anyways, I posted on Facebook. You know Tori, I always have to say something to piss at least one person off! That actually wasn't my intention at all. My intention was to alert parents about the topic that had been discussed, and to inform the younger girls who had been there that there was so much more to them that has nothing to do with their bodies.

Within an hour, I had one friend left. 

My very best friend at the time had texted me and told me that I needed to pick up a Bible. We have since discussed this issue, at length, about a year after it happened, and are friends again. Forgiveness is a powerful thing. 

The person in charge of our drama team had made us sign a little agreement at the beginning of the month regarding how we post online. She didn't want us to show the church in a negative light, or do anything that might bring scrutiny or ridicule to the church. 

She texted me, after having texted me during the whole sermon that night agreeing with me, and told me that we needed to have a conversation about the paper that I signed. 

I believe that this is an important time to mention that contracts involving the signature of minors are not legally binding, and I hadn't mentioned any names or the name of the church. 

I know how to be professionally anonymous online, and I understand fair use laws that allow me to do otherwise.

The actual person who had given the message that evening also texted me to confront me about spreading lies and Bible challenging fallacies, and I still didn't change my stance. 

I spent a lot of time crying after that. I haven't been back to church since then, not really. Maybe once or twice. I read my Bible, and I love people. 

I give to those people on the streets that hold the signs. I don't care what they spend the money on. 

I give of my time to the community, just not if it's church involved. 

And to those people who say, "if you don't go to a church because you were hurt there, then you're worshiping the pastor and not the Lord." 

Hop down off of your soapbox, and go read about the false prophets in the Bible. Or false prophets like Jim Jones, who started out in a Pentecostal church as a faith-healing pastor, and then convinced his entire congregation to move to a random place in the middle of nowhere, and then convinced them all to kill themselves. 

I'm done drinking the Kool-Aid. I'm tired of the religious arguments, and people telling me I need to go to church. I will no longer be a sheep to the slaughter, because I would rather be under the care of the real Shepard, and not the ones who leave the 99 to worship the one. 

"Spiritual authority" does not mean that someone gets to dictate your life to you, from start to end. True spiritual authority comes from those who pray for you, read the Bible with you, and stand with you when you need them to be there. Not the ones who hang up when you call a church for prayer, because they are too busy to intercede for you. 

Surround yourself with people who will intercede for you!!! 

Also, going to church makes you a Christian about as much as standing in a garage makes you a car. 

 

 & I am done pretending and covering up the lies and misdeeds of those who call themselves Christians. I'm not here to judge you, but I will pick my figs and grapes from different trees and vines. 

Remember that faith-based isn't always a good thing, and that church-based is an even worse thing. There are so many alternative groups of people who are kind to children, families, and the like. Most of which don't discriminate against you if you are a single parent, gay, transgender, or just a weirdo like me. 

Seek them out, and love people regardless. Let Jesus change them, and you worry about loving them, and taking care of yourself. 

Next time you want to judge someone for being church hurt, think about all of the reasons behind it. Some people have years of pain that they hide behind because of things that "Christian" people have said or done to them, and I'm sick of people justifying their hatred under the guise of righteousness, and in the name of Jesus. 

Anyways, that's all I have to say. Feel free to comment, share, or message me about anything. 

Thank you for reading.