My last post was an introduction to a conversation I had with a friend a week ago over breakfast, centering around why some people continue to attend the same church, rather than follow others out the door -- even as the experience of "Church" has become problematic.
I ended the last post with this question: under what circumstance is it appropriate -- even necessary -- to leave the church you're attending?
Before I wander too far down the rabbit trail, I want to address one idea I'm sure some people reading this might have.
I'm making the statement that before entering into any relationship with a group of people -- whether that relationship involves Church, work, or even a membership in a non-profit organization -- I believe it's helpful, and NECESSARY, to determine under what circumstances one would need to drop out of the group. As a reader pondering this, your first thought might be something like this: "you're making it sound like I should PLAN on leaving, even before I've joined...isn't that a cynical view of what 'Church' is supposed to be about?"
I would counter with a short story.
A few years back, I was involved in an intervention. I won't give any details, but I'll say it involved a large number of people (perhaps 30 to 40?) and it didn't go well. At the end of the experience, those of us involved were hurt, angry, frustrated, and, I think, taken aback -- in part because none of us had ever considered the possibility that things could go as badly as they did.
This started a series of conversations I had with myself. If something could go this badly with a group of people I was very close with, could this happen in other relationships? In other settings? For the record, the event I'm referring too didn't involve my local church, though all involved are Christians, and had been for their entire lives.
The experience was a wake up call for me. Again, without going into detail, it was essentially what the Catholic Church has been dealing with for 30 years due to a toxic environment in which no one in charge could be questioned and a lot of people all over the World got hurt. Now take that experience, choose your 10 closest friends, and imagine you found out one of the ten had hurt someone else in the group in the same way. Shocking, right? How could you possibly have foreseen something like this?
You couldn't - WE couldn't. We didn't. Yet there we were, trying to figure out which pieces of the relationships we had with each other could be salvaged and which had to be discarded.
Many of them were thrown out. The friendships we had were irrevocably damaged.
Now apply this logic to your church. Under what circumstances might you find you need to leave? What would that look like?
A first thought might be to consider what the Catholic Church has gone through, to see how it's been handled (and not handled, to the detriment of all churches and religions) and think through, logically, what could have been done better.
It's critical, though, to consider that situation from a broader perspective. The issue isn't just that priests abused children. Think bigger. Think in terms like these: under what circumstances would someone within my home church hurting someone else lead me to feel it's time to get out?
Does this make sense? This is the World, I believe, we're living in. No longer is there an expectation that people will attend the same church, from the same denomination, for their entire lives. No longer are parents expected to wake their children up early every Sunday morning and cart them to Sunday School classes to learn about Jonah and the Whale. Those days are gone.
Is this good? Bad? In my opinion, both. But that's another blog post (and this one's already getting long).
So back to the question: when is it necessary to leave your local church? Again - as I said in the last post - I'm not talking about leaving "The Church" and never attending anywhere, ever again. I'm talking about what many people would label "church hopping" or "church shopping". If it sounds like I'm tailoring this blog post for a post modern audience, I'm not. My intent in considering this question was actually to set some ground rules to PREVENT my family from leaving.
Like anyone who's been involved in any organization, my family has run into issues in our church. This is part of the human experience. We meet people, we form relationships, and without realizing it, we bring certain expectations into the relationship -- and eventually, someone's behavior takes you off guard. If the behavior is hurtful enough, you might feel the situation warrants "conflict resolution". And often in churches, this never occurs. (A great resource related to this is Peter Scazzero's "Emotionally Healthy Spirituality".)
So for me personally, this has been a sticking point. It was a result of 20 hours of counseling my wife and I underwent a couple years ago (see a few blog posts back).
If this language, this idea of creating a "sins list" of things that would allow you to leave your church, seems like a cop out, look at it this way. You would probably consider yourself a person of principles, correct? I would call this list part of those principles. For me, one deal breaker I now have in any relationship is this: while as humans we'll always have to deal with the experience of being hurt by others, it's never acceptable to brush aside the experience. If someone said something hurtful to someone in front of the group, for example, the group is required to address the issue. Not necessarily in the moment (consider someone who's grieving for a lost loved one, and reacts out of anger). But eventually, the issue of one person hurting another has to be dealt with, not covered.
It's this kind of experience that -- in my opinion -- drives some people away from their church. Certain people within the congregation are "untouchable", so to speak. They've attended for years, they're older -- from another generation, we say -- and so even though they say things that are bone-headed (and hurtful to others) because they're doing so 'in the name of Jesus' it's accepted.
The hot button topics the Church is being challenged on right now are gay marriage and gender issues. So in feeling the need to express their opinions, many within the church say things that those in the LGBTQ community take offense with; and because these sentiments are being expressed "for the right reasons" the hurtful talk is continually tolerated.
It shouldn't be.
This isn't a post about LGBTQ issues, but go with me, here. The problem isn't just that some within the Church have differing views about these issues. The problem is that the assumption before the talk ever started is that everyone is always and forever on the same page. No one is ever allowed the dialogue to hash out how their experience and what they've been taught about the Bible are colliding. They have working relationships with people who they never knew were gay. And yet they're attending churches that say "these people" are living in sin...so where does this leave us?
In a bind, that's the bottom line. Now consider this situation from another angle. Let's say when you first start attending a church you talk to the pastor and explain there are certain "deal breakers" you have, and LGBTQ issues are one of those. The pastor explains the local church's position and you make the decision to attend. Or not. Either way, isn't this a better place to be than to invest in relationships for 10 years and then feel blindsided when the pastor preaches something from the pulpit that you can't live with?
This is another rabbit trail, but in my opinion, it's where churches are suddenly struggling in the 21st century. Millenials, on the whole, aren't interested in attending churches that preach hellfire and brimstone for gays...and churches aren't going to "change their doctrine" to accomodate the views of those who have beliefs that conflict with what their church has listed as doctrine for decades or more. So...while people don't leave en masse...few people join.
This is where churches shouldn't be taken off guard. The proactive thing to do would be to ask a number of people in their local communities why they don't attend. For the record, I'm aware these types of questions have been asked by researchers and the results published...but I'm not sure this is always helpful. Does it help to know that people between ages 18 and 34 believe, on average, a certain thing about a topic? After all, churches aren't trying to develop relationships with 18 to 34 year olds; they're trying to reach specific people with specific life situations.
So to end this already lengthy post, I'll list a few deal breakers I've developed for relationship (and there are only a few). These were generally a result of a specific life experience (usually negative) that left me thinking, "I'm never doing THAT again..."
So in no order, here they are:
1) I can't be a part of any relationship or group in which it's acceptable for some members of the group to hurt other members (or, for that matter anyone) and the hurt isn't allowed to be addressed. As humans, hurt is inevitable...but it shouldn't be just "tolerated".
2) I can't be a part of any relationship or group which is detrimental to my health or the health of my family (physically, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually)
3) Any commitment that I make has to come with an end date...in other words, if I'm asked to lead an event or group, I need to know the end date of the commitment. Note: Churches are infamous for using people to the point of burnout. The prevent this, no one should ever be asked, as a volunteer, to fulfill a role like teacher, youth leader, children's pastor, etc. This has proven to be one of the most useful and helpful rules...and it's made it easier to say no.
4) No one in the group should ever be guilted into a completing a task or fulfilling a role. Again, churches are infamous for this. "But we've ALWAYS had a Sunday School...if you don't teach, who will lead us?" My answer: you'll live without Sunday School. No one will die. Trust me.
There are others that don't come to mind at the moment...but these are the most important.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Friday, August 28, 2015
Love/Hate: Why do they stay???
I was having breakfast with a friend recently and he asked me this question -- which became a potential book idea.
There are thousands of books and blog posts about why people are leaving the Church. So a competing and relevant question is this...for those who choose to stay, who hate the church they're in...why do they stick around?
First, a couple clarifications. By "church" we were referring to a local church congregation, rather than the capital "C" CHURCH...which is to say, instead of leaving a congregation and attending elsewhere, they're choosing -- for whatever reason -- to continue attending the same church, even though they're hating the experience.
Second, a word about the word "hating". What we meant in the text of the conversation is this: if the church you're attending is making you miserable, why stick around?
Those of a certain generation -- say, aged 40 and over -- would probably point out that worship "isn't about you...it's about God". I would counter with this: if the experience you're having attending a church isn't good for your health, then it isn't about God.
Yet this seems to be exactly what's happened for many people attending churches in America...at least, for those who attend Christian churches. What do I mean by this? What do I mean by a church not being good for your health?
Simply that the experience has become continuously negative -- for a number of possible reasons.
Our conversation didn't focus much on what those reasons were, in part because as evangelicals (that word should probably be capitalized???) we were both keenly aware of how things sometimes "break bad" in churches. For the record, my friend previously attended the church I'm still attending, so we have that common experience to some degree. But to clarify, the types of things that often go bad in churches always center around our experience with humans as we try to live WITH each other but WITHOUT existing in conflict.
It isn't easy. It never is. Any relationship worth having involves work. Consider marriage. You enter into that relationship with all kinds of expectations for what it will be like. And life couldn't possibly mirror perfectly what you were hoping would happen.
So multiply that conflict by a thousand and you have the experience of attending "God's house." (cringe)
The conversation was close to 2 hours long and I can't recap all of it in 1 post. But I do need to include 1 item we talked about.
It would seem to me that if you're joining any organization, whether it's a private company or government entity, or a church - there should be certain non-negotiables before you join that institution. Here's what I mean: there's a list of deal breakers...and if those things, those rules aren't adhered to, everything should end. You need to get out.
For example, if you join a company and the company treats its employees badly -- to the point the stress isn't good for employee health and is creating an atmosphere that's slowly destroying people -- you should do everything you can to leave, right?
And can't the same be said for churches? SHOULDN'T the same be said? If a church is treating employees badly, someone needs to say something, right? (Think of the perpetual burnout that pastors allow themselves to be exposed to.)
This was significant part of our conversation and it's ongoing. It's kept me thinking...under what circumstances do I need to leave?
More to come...
There are thousands of books and blog posts about why people are leaving the Church. So a competing and relevant question is this...for those who choose to stay, who hate the church they're in...why do they stick around?
First, a couple clarifications. By "church" we were referring to a local church congregation, rather than the capital "C" CHURCH...which is to say, instead of leaving a congregation and attending elsewhere, they're choosing -- for whatever reason -- to continue attending the same church, even though they're hating the experience.
Second, a word about the word "hating". What we meant in the text of the conversation is this: if the church you're attending is making you miserable, why stick around?
Those of a certain generation -- say, aged 40 and over -- would probably point out that worship "isn't about you...it's about God". I would counter with this: if the experience you're having attending a church isn't good for your health, then it isn't about God.
Yet this seems to be exactly what's happened for many people attending churches in America...at least, for those who attend Christian churches. What do I mean by this? What do I mean by a church not being good for your health?
Simply that the experience has become continuously negative -- for a number of possible reasons.
Our conversation didn't focus much on what those reasons were, in part because as evangelicals (that word should probably be capitalized???) we were both keenly aware of how things sometimes "break bad" in churches. For the record, my friend previously attended the church I'm still attending, so we have that common experience to some degree. But to clarify, the types of things that often go bad in churches always center around our experience with humans as we try to live WITH each other but WITHOUT existing in conflict.
It isn't easy. It never is. Any relationship worth having involves work. Consider marriage. You enter into that relationship with all kinds of expectations for what it will be like. And life couldn't possibly mirror perfectly what you were hoping would happen.
So multiply that conflict by a thousand and you have the experience of attending "God's house." (cringe)
The conversation was close to 2 hours long and I can't recap all of it in 1 post. But I do need to include 1 item we talked about.
It would seem to me that if you're joining any organization, whether it's a private company or government entity, or a church - there should be certain non-negotiables before you join that institution. Here's what I mean: there's a list of deal breakers...and if those things, those rules aren't adhered to, everything should end. You need to get out.
For example, if you join a company and the company treats its employees badly -- to the point the stress isn't good for employee health and is creating an atmosphere that's slowly destroying people -- you should do everything you can to leave, right?
And can't the same be said for churches? SHOULDN'T the same be said? If a church is treating employees badly, someone needs to say something, right? (Think of the perpetual burnout that pastors allow themselves to be exposed to.)
This was significant part of our conversation and it's ongoing. It's kept me thinking...under what circumstances do I need to leave?
More to come...
Monday, February 17, 2014
Vulnerability Volume 1: The Lies We Believe
Do You Trust Your Heart Beat?
I pose that question for a deeper purpose...but before I unpack that, I have a story...
So about 3 months ago my wife -- struggling with 'her' issues -- said to me, "I think we need to see them". She was referencing the husband and wife counseling team who are based in Georgia that several of our friends have gone to over the past several years.
My first response was, "You need to give up the idea of us doing that because it is never going to happen. That sounds exhausting."
What sounded so bad to me was that the counseling involved a week-long program of sessions -- 4 hours each day for 5 days -- and I couldn't fathom that I'd ever have the energy to go through that.
Experiencing emotions had exhausted me for nearly all of my adult life, and this leads to the first lie that I've believed since I was a child: some people are just more emotional than others.
On its face, in a sense, it's true -- some people do seem to express emotions more readily than others. But the lie that's beneath the surface of that statement is this: only some of us have real emotional needs.
After 20 hours of counseling -- which involved many tears, much grief, and left me exhausted -- I've come to understand how pervasive that lie is.
Every person should be wearing a t-shirt that says "I'm Emotionally Needy" on the front. And on the back? "Please hug me -- I need it..."
How is it that at age 45 I'm just now understanding that the reason experiencing emotions previously left me so exhausted isn't that experiencing them is exhausting; it's that I'd almost never done it.
What I learned through counseling is that the dynamic is supposed to work like this: I feel an emotion; I experience the emotion; the emotion passes.
My 7 year old lives this every day of her life. All kids do, until we screw them up. She wakes up in the morning and is on top of the world because we have Cheerios in the pantry. Then she's so frustrated at not being able to get the remote control to work that within a few seconds she's almost in tears. Then, when the t.v. finally comes on, she's elated -- Disney Junior!!!
It would be easy as an adult to poo-poo this. Kids are emotional, but we aren't supposed to behave that way as adults, right? What would it mean if I burst into tears at work because I couldn't get the coffee maker to work, and then was overjoyed to see I had email? Wouldn't that be unhealthy?
It would be unhealthy. But not because we don't need to experience emotions as adults. Rather it's because our understanding of the world is just more sophisticated than a child's. We know that sometimes the coffee maker won't come on so you figure out the problem -- the coffee maker is unplugged; the plug doesn't work; the coffee maker really is broken -- and you move on.
Until you can't. You've a had a long week already, and it's only Wednesday. Your boss has just reamed you over the coals because you're late completing a project, and he's already warned you once in veiled language that it's time to shape up or find a new job. You're behind on paying your mortgage and if you get fired you don't know at age X how long it might take to find another job...
And you plug in the coffee maker and it doesn't work.
And you burst into tears.
So in that moment, do you trust your emotions?
The following is the kind of ridiculous statement that I heard preachers recite over and over and over again when I was growing up and it's lie number two of this post: you can't trust your emotions because they change. You should only trust the Bible.
The issue I have with this is that some well meaning preachers tried to explain in very damaging language that in the times when you feel far from God it doesn't mean that you're far from God. The Bible tells us that God is everywhere. So even though your emotions are telling you one thing -- that you feel far away from God -- God really is right there beside you, grieving your loss.
But here's the intriguing thing to think about. If you read the last sentence of that last paragraph, it doesn't say that God is far away...it says that you feel far away from God, because, guess what? That's what you're feeling. The emotion is the truest expression of what you're experiencing -- you're lonely!
Why is it so hard for us to just believe that? I think our knee jerk reaction is that it sounds like I'm blaming God for not being close by. But that's isn't what the emotion is telling us -- the emotion isn't telling us that God is at fault, and this leads to the third lie we've come to believe: I should only experience hurt if the person who hurt me intended to hurt me.
If someone says something that hurts me, and I say to that person, "That really hurt," what's read into that is, "You're blaming me." So what we get in return is, "I didn't mean it that way!" or "How can you say that? I'm trying to help!", or "You're always so sensitive!"
Exactly. I'm sensitive because, guess what? Humans are sensitive...
So back to the question at the beginning: do you trust your heart beat? Because it's as much a part of you as your emotions...
Can you trust your heart beat? Is that a thing that it's even possible to do??? Or is the question something that can't be answered, like, "what does imagination taste like?"
We could try to force an answer, something like this: your heart should always be beating, but if it isn't beating properly or at all, you have a problem, a medical condition of some kind. Is the same true of emotions?
The gut reaction, I think, is to first think of clinical conditions like manic depression or bipolar disorder. These would be just like arrhythmia is to the heart, right? So you can't trust emotions -- what if they're broken?
Aaahhh, but here's the thing. If you have arrhythmia, isn't that a symptom that needs to be addressed? Doesn't it mean there's an underlying bigger issue? To say I don't trust my heart beat because something doesn't work right is to deny reality, isn't it? Don't I need to pay attention to arrhythmia?
Which gets us back to the original question: can you trust your emotions?
It's a ridiculous question, because it's the wrong one to ask...
My final thought: every emotion is important. Every single one. What I learned after 20 hours of counseling is this: your emotions matter because they're at the core of who you are, to be experienced for what they are: a human response to a very imperfect and terrifying and beautiful world that we have the joy and heartbreak of living in every day.
They aren't supposed to just be talked about; they're supposed to be experienced.
How did it take me 45 years to understand this? Why are we so desperately denying ourselves this experience? I'll unpack that later.
So...
I apologize to my wife for denying reality. She was saying we had a problem, because, guess what? We had a problem.
Next Post: Shame
I pose that question for a deeper purpose...but before I unpack that, I have a story...
So about 3 months ago my wife -- struggling with 'her' issues -- said to me, "I think we need to see them". She was referencing the husband and wife counseling team who are based in Georgia that several of our friends have gone to over the past several years.
My first response was, "You need to give up the idea of us doing that because it is never going to happen. That sounds exhausting."
What sounded so bad to me was that the counseling involved a week-long program of sessions -- 4 hours each day for 5 days -- and I couldn't fathom that I'd ever have the energy to go through that.
Experiencing emotions had exhausted me for nearly all of my adult life, and this leads to the first lie that I've believed since I was a child: some people are just more emotional than others.
On its face, in a sense, it's true -- some people do seem to express emotions more readily than others. But the lie that's beneath the surface of that statement is this: only some of us have real emotional needs.
After 20 hours of counseling -- which involved many tears, much grief, and left me exhausted -- I've come to understand how pervasive that lie is.
Every person should be wearing a t-shirt that says "I'm Emotionally Needy" on the front. And on the back? "Please hug me -- I need it..."
How is it that at age 45 I'm just now understanding that the reason experiencing emotions previously left me so exhausted isn't that experiencing them is exhausting; it's that I'd almost never done it.
What I learned through counseling is that the dynamic is supposed to work like this: I feel an emotion; I experience the emotion; the emotion passes.
My 7 year old lives this every day of her life. All kids do, until we screw them up. She wakes up in the morning and is on top of the world because we have Cheerios in the pantry. Then she's so frustrated at not being able to get the remote control to work that within a few seconds she's almost in tears. Then, when the t.v. finally comes on, she's elated -- Disney Junior!!!
It would be easy as an adult to poo-poo this. Kids are emotional, but we aren't supposed to behave that way as adults, right? What would it mean if I burst into tears at work because I couldn't get the coffee maker to work, and then was overjoyed to see I had email? Wouldn't that be unhealthy?
It would be unhealthy. But not because we don't need to experience emotions as adults. Rather it's because our understanding of the world is just more sophisticated than a child's. We know that sometimes the coffee maker won't come on so you figure out the problem -- the coffee maker is unplugged; the plug doesn't work; the coffee maker really is broken -- and you move on.
Until you can't. You've a had a long week already, and it's only Wednesday. Your boss has just reamed you over the coals because you're late completing a project, and he's already warned you once in veiled language that it's time to shape up or find a new job. You're behind on paying your mortgage and if you get fired you don't know at age X how long it might take to find another job...
And you plug in the coffee maker and it doesn't work.
And you burst into tears.
So in that moment, do you trust your emotions?
The following is the kind of ridiculous statement that I heard preachers recite over and over and over again when I was growing up and it's lie number two of this post: you can't trust your emotions because they change. You should only trust the Bible.
The issue I have with this is that some well meaning preachers tried to explain in very damaging language that in the times when you feel far from God it doesn't mean that you're far from God. The Bible tells us that God is everywhere. So even though your emotions are telling you one thing -- that you feel far away from God -- God really is right there beside you, grieving your loss.
But here's the intriguing thing to think about. If you read the last sentence of that last paragraph, it doesn't say that God is far away...it says that you feel far away from God, because, guess what? That's what you're feeling. The emotion is the truest expression of what you're experiencing -- you're lonely!
Why is it so hard for us to just believe that? I think our knee jerk reaction is that it sounds like I'm blaming God for not being close by. But that's isn't what the emotion is telling us -- the emotion isn't telling us that God is at fault, and this leads to the third lie we've come to believe: I should only experience hurt if the person who hurt me intended to hurt me.
If someone says something that hurts me, and I say to that person, "That really hurt," what's read into that is, "You're blaming me." So what we get in return is, "I didn't mean it that way!" or "How can you say that? I'm trying to help!", or "You're always so sensitive!"
Exactly. I'm sensitive because, guess what? Humans are sensitive...
So back to the question at the beginning: do you trust your heart beat? Because it's as much a part of you as your emotions...
Can you trust your heart beat? Is that a thing that it's even possible to do??? Or is the question something that can't be answered, like, "what does imagination taste like?"
We could try to force an answer, something like this: your heart should always be beating, but if it isn't beating properly or at all, you have a problem, a medical condition of some kind. Is the same true of emotions?
The gut reaction, I think, is to first think of clinical conditions like manic depression or bipolar disorder. These would be just like arrhythmia is to the heart, right? So you can't trust emotions -- what if they're broken?
Aaahhh, but here's the thing. If you have arrhythmia, isn't that a symptom that needs to be addressed? Doesn't it mean there's an underlying bigger issue? To say I don't trust my heart beat because something doesn't work right is to deny reality, isn't it? Don't I need to pay attention to arrhythmia?
Which gets us back to the original question: can you trust your emotions?
It's a ridiculous question, because it's the wrong one to ask...
My final thought: every emotion is important. Every single one. What I learned after 20 hours of counseling is this: your emotions matter because they're at the core of who you are, to be experienced for what they are: a human response to a very imperfect and terrifying and beautiful world that we have the joy and heartbreak of living in every day.
They aren't supposed to just be talked about; they're supposed to be experienced.
How did it take me 45 years to understand this? Why are we so desperately denying ourselves this experience? I'll unpack that later.
So...
I apologize to my wife for denying reality. She was saying we had a problem, because, guess what? We had a problem.
Next Post: Shame
Saturday, November 3, 2012
On This Day In Michigan History
On Oct. 30, 1956, 52 boys at Romeo Community High School faced a deadline to either trim their Elvis Presley-like hairstyles or leave the school. The Superintendent of Romeo Community High School imposed the deadline after teachers complained the students' sideburns and duck-tail haircuts spawned defiant behavior.
On Oct. 30, 1956, 52 boys at Romeo Community High School faced a deadline to either trim their Elvis Presley-like hairstyles or leave the school. The Superintendent of Romeo Community High School imposed the deadline after teachers complained the students' sideburns and duck-tail haircuts spawned defiant behavior.
Friday, October 26, 2012
"As the Government of the United States of America is not, in any sense,
founded on the Christian religion,—as it has in itself no character of
enmity against the laws, religion, or tranquility, of [Muslims],—and as the said States never entered into any war or act of
hostility against any [Muslim] nation, it is declared by the
parties that no pretext arising from religious opinions shall ever
produce an interruption of the harmony existing between the two
countries."
-- Treaty of Tripoli, signed by John Adams, 6/10/1797
-- Treaty of Tripoli, signed by John Adams, 6/10/1797
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