Unraveling the systems and refusing to play the middle

In Bible study this week, we read John 18, which is the story of Jesus being arrested and tried by the High Priest and Roman governor. We noted how Jesus acted neither as a violent rebel nor as a compliant victim. Instead, he spoke truth to power. He made their illegal actions transparent and asserted his dignity even as they attempted to shame and defile him. I love him so much.

I also noticed the way the governor, Pilate, acted. He tried to play the middle. He saw through the schemes of the leading priests and pharisees: "He is not guilty of any crime." But instead of refusing to be complicit in their abuse of the law, he LITERALLY washed his hands as a way of ceremoniously separating himself and allowed the crowd to murder an innocent man.

I am in a stage of my life where playing the middle offends me almost more than doing outright damage. I will not be surprised or disappointed if I grow older and wiser and see things differently, but for now I am disgusted and outraged and cannot be silent.

This is exactly the energy that went into posting on Facebook: 4 things I heard in church that upset me. One of the things was the pastor's attempt to play the middle politically. It felt so dangerous and inappropriate that I could not be silent about it. I also couldn't waltz into his office to have a conversation because I have felt belittled and unheard in other, similar conversations. So I said what I said on social media and it ended up backfiring dreadfully.

I'm also in a stage of life in which I'm actively unraveling the system that allowed me to be so profoundly abused despite labeling itself "safe" and "loving" and claiming "we're all equally made in the image of God." Because all those things cannot ALL be true. I cannot be a safe, loved, equal member of the body of Christ and a victim of profound abuse. I was not safe and I need to understand why. I was not safe and I need people in leadership to admit it and do the work to heal the church. I was not an equal and when I see other people being treated as "less than" by the Church, I am not content to wash my hands and allow it.

There is something unsafe about the structure of giving one human being a title (pastor, priest, pope, etc.) that marks them as more holy, more godly, more right and good than the rest of the congregation. Correcting that person when they fail (because they will) becomes impossible.

There is something unsafe about Scripture being written by men, for men but having the reputation of being written by God himself. You need only do a brief Google/AI search to learn of many, many ways in which Scripture has been used by various powers and authorities to justify atrocities big and small. It disgusts me. And if you think your interpretations have not been colored by any of these harmful powers, you're gravely mistaken. 

There is something unsafe about allowing people in the community of believers to hide their sins and calling it "refusing to gossip," or "privacy" or "none of our business." If we don't have a culture of vulnerability and transparency, we are a safe harbor for abusers.

There is something unsafe about labeling someone's very existence and identity as sin. I'm talking about LGBTQ+ humans here. This connects to the harmful interpretations of Scripture but is such a huge problem right now that it deserved its own point. The way the church has persecuted these people made in the image of God is deplorable. Just like God made day and night and every hour of the day in between, God made male and female and every non-binary, queer identity in between.

There is something unsafe about our worship of reconciliation. Not all relationships can or should be reconciled. It is not safe. But people with spiritual authority or leadership in the church do not attend to this. They make a quick verbal caveat, "except in cases of abuse," which is supposed to cover all of that. NEWSFLASH: PEOPLE IN ABUSIVE SITUATIONS DO NOT KNOW THEY ARE BEING ABUSED. Your caveat is useless. But your constant messaging on Forgiveness and Grace and Reconciliation holds victims in their victim role.

This unraveling and refusal to stay silent makes people nervous. It's painful and overwhelming to look at what we've contributed to, but we have to look at it. And we have to change. Your pain at realizing you're complicit is not greater than the pain of the people being retraumatized in your services or being held hostage to abusive situations because of misinterpretations of the teachings of Jesus. This is the process of becoming more whole. This is the process of becoming more like Christ. 

Last year I read, "The Other Half of Church: Christian Community, Brain Science, and Overcoming Spiritual Stagnation." It calls the church out for their half-brained approach and gives practical suggestions for ministering to our whole-selves. 

This week I read "Hell Bent" by Brian Recker. It is such a breath of fresh air and helpful validation to the deep anger I've been feeling while unraveling the evangelical system that my anabaptist church sits beside. Recker eloquently expresses what is unsafe about a theology of hell. It causes so much cognitive dissonance, abuse, and othering in the church and robs us of feeling God's love. It's impossible to truly love and be loved by someone who holds the threat of eternal suffering over your head if you don't. That's not love; that's abuse.

Both of these books gave examples of communities of believers that sounded so much safer, more trauma-informed, more loving, and more focused on bringing Heaven to Earth than what I'm currently experiencing in my small, suburban congregation. Can I ask my congregation to grow and heal with me? Is that asking too much of them? Is it asking too much of me [to be the one pushing them into it]? Has this healing season of my life changed my beliefs so much that I don't fit here anymore?