Unforgiveness...

Every now and then, I have one of those moments which expose the utter bankruptcy of my previous religious experience. Today, a dear friend helped to expose another one.

You see, I have been told whenever I've protested abuse and injustice at the hands of the religious that I'm just "bitter and unforgiving".

And yet, these same people who accuse me, also claim that they have done nothing wrong.

But as my friend challenged, how can forgiveness be needed - or indeed, extended - when there has been no wrong-doing?

What would there be to forgive?

So to all those people who have denied any wrong-doing towards me, and have then accused me of unforgiveness, I say this:

You cannot have your cake, and eat it too.

Either you have wronged me, and you feel justified in your claim of unforgiveness on my part;

or

you have done nothing wrong, and therefore to claim unforgiveness on my part is a nonsense.

But you can't have it both ways.

So if you want to accuse me of being unforgiving - which means there is something you have done that requires my forgiveness - please own it, and let's deal with the crap that lies between us.

I've always advocated that path.

Otherwise your accusations against me are, at best, meaningless.

A Few Things I Wish Christians Understood About "The World"

If you act like total jerk and people object, you are not "suffering for Jesus", or being "persecuted for your faith". You are simply experiencing normal, negative feedback.

Having someone disagree with you is not persecution. Persecution involves genuine human rights being violated (e.g. oppression, torture), not merely a loss of power and privilege. Disagreement simply means someone see things differently from you and is willing to say so. Please learn to know the difference.

When people outside the church respond badly to things you do or say, it might not be because "your words convict their hearts". It is just as likely because they see a disconnect between what you preach and how you live.

Politics (and by extension, your favourite political leader) will not save the world or usher in the "millennial reign". Neither will legislation based on your own understanding of "biblical" morality.

If making others comply with your moral code is more important to you than the plight of the poor and marginalised in your community, you may have misunderstood what Jesus meant when he told you to love your neighbour.

Jesus had no time for empire-building or king-making. He focussed on serving others, loving others, laying down his life for others...

It's just possible that "the world" is waiting to see "the church" look more like that.

Questioning The Religious Status Quo

My journey out of the institutional church has left me with a crazy, upside-down perspective on so much of what goes on inside that religious bubble. So when I recently heard about a 'foot-washing service' amongst religious leaders in my home town, I was not surprised that something about it made me uncomfortable. When my husband's response was even stronger than mine, I figured my instinctive recoil was worth exploring.

The ceremony itself was held in a public gathering space in the Parliament building and involved a number of leaders from different denominations performing the act of washing each other's feet. On one website it was described as "an act of reconciliation between denominations, traditions, people groups and individuals" and yet something within me felt there was a hollowness in the gesture.

I wrote to one of the people involved, and while I affirmed the idea of repentance - changing attitudes and behaviours - between leaders of different denominations, I did suggest that it seemed to be a fairly safe and 'easy' gesture to make. I also pointed out that I have never seen a similar response towards those who have suffered abuse (of all kinds) in the church environment.

However, it was not until someone on Facebook posted an excerpt from a longer article, discussing the popular notion of a culture of honour, that my thoughts and feelings on the subject crystallised. Referring to the historical context of Jesus's action it read:

"Apostle was not a title for a high status leadership position. In their day, when you said “apostle” no one would think of a manager, owner, chief executive, or someone sitting at the top of a religious pyramid hierarchy. They would think of dishwashers and busboys, or worse. In their world, the feet were considered the most defiled, unclean member of the body. In our world, we would normally associate the most uncleanness with bathroom functions and the associated organs! Not so in theirs. To wash feet was not just a “nice humble thing” to do. It was to abase one’s self to the lowest of the low, the basest of the base, the most demeaning expression of service available in their world. In the upper room we see Jesus’s apostleship (ministry) being modeled. How that gets turned into rank and privilege by creative religious minds, is quite a manoeuvre." [Emphasis added]

Suddenly, I realised what had made me so uncomfortable about the whole thing. 

That graphic (and shocking) allusion to bathroom functions stopped me in my tracks, and I was offended at the thought of enacting a culturally equivalent service. It made me realise that we have taken a private act of menial and demeaning service - which powerfully demonstrated to his disciples Jesus's call to lower themselves - and put it on a pedestal (or, in this case, a stage) as a public show of 'humility'! We've made a "nice, humble" tradition out of an act of genuine abasement by the son of God, himself.

Now, I am not suggesting that the leaders involved were not sincere or well-meaning, or that they don't genuinely want to see reconciliation between church factions. What I do want to explore is whether, despite Jesus's actions being replicated, the spirit behind that original act was somehow lost. Do we copy Jesus's actions, but by-pass the deep heart transformation it represented?

And does copying Jesus in a public setting have any impact on what happens in private? Has it changed the pervasive culture of hierarchical 'leadership' within the church? Does it give a voice to the voiceless? Are the stories of those who've been abused by the system now being taken seriously?

Or is it simply business as usual? We've done a good thing, so we can feel good about ourselves and continue to ignore anyone who sees it differently. We can perpetuate a system which damages and ignores and silences the 'nobodies'. We can continue to sacrifice our siblings on the altar of our truth, our vision, our leadership. We can insist that the only options for the sheep are to "get on board", or "get thrown under the bus".

I want to suggest that no amount of public foot-washing amongst the religious leaders is going to transform hearts or effect the change that is needed to bring about a reconciliation which unites the whole body in real love and relationship. As meaningful as it might have been to those involved, what message did it send to anyone who's been invalidated and damaged by church leaders? Is it helpful for those in power to enact repentance to one another, and yet ignore those who've been disenfranchised by the church?

Please note, these are genuine questions.

This is not an attack on any person or group in particular, or even on the use of symbolic gesture to represent a heartfelt conviction. And I am not saying I have all the answers. In fact, most days I have more questions than answers! But these questions are legitimate. My voice and my perspective are  valid. And yet, like many others who see things differently or ask difficult questions, I continue to be ignored and silenced. 

The truth is that I would love to engage, to explore, to learn & grow with others of similar as well as differing perspectives. But it seems that the christian community is closed to any voices but those which echo the leader-approved position. I'd love to meet someone in current leadership who is brave enough to see through some else's eyes, yet my experience suggests that is not likely to happen. Regardless, I will keep asking my questions...

Stepping on Lego

memedroid.com

I've just read a post by Matt B Redmond in which he talks about the idea of a "messy" christian life. In it he talks about his boys having to do some cleaning up:

"Last night, we asked our boys to clean up the den because it was messy. Legos were everywhere. Their socks and shoes were scattered across the room. Library books covered one area. So they cleaned it up."

At the end one reader left a comment:

"Part of the blessing of the Christian walk is just the fact that the Spirit shows us that there are Legos all over the floor, and there isn’t just something wrong with our feet."

Anyone who has ever stepped on Lego with bare feet will know how extremely painful it is!

But as I pondered the comment, I was struck by the idea that while the Spirit warns against the 'Lego', this is the antithesis of what the 'church' so often does.

To further the analogy, it seems that whenever people point out that there is Lego lying all over the church floor, and that someone is bound to get hurt by it, they are told that it is their feet that are the problem. Instead of looking at the mess and cleaning it up together, leaders tend to blame the one who has pointed out the mess.

Apparently, the trouble is not that Lego is sharp and causes pain when stepped on. The problem is that people have feet that are just too sensitive!

I think I'll listen to the Spirit, thanks!

I'm not Asking for Perfection!

I've had many conversations over the last 2 or 3 years that revolved around my experience of abuse in the church and my subsequent disillusionment with that institution.

There have been people who disapproved of me being upset and who therefore assumed that somehow I was the one at fault. Others were distressed that I would even suggest that there was anything wrong in 'their church'. Then there were those who recognised there was something amiss, but didn't want to get involved.

But, interestingly enough, there was one line almost every person produced. "You can't expect the church to be perfect - it's made up of imperfect people."

Now on the surface, this sounds like a true and wise observation. It is true that we are all imperfect, and it is wise not to expect the perfection from such people.

The only trouble is, it was not perfection I was expecting.

It was fruit!

Even a cursory glance at the New Testament will reveal the truth that we are supposed to bear fruit. And that fruit should be in keeping with our source.

Jesus said, "I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing."

So what does this fruit look like?

"...the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control."

The early christians were renowned for their love, joy and humility, even in the face of persecution and suffering. People noticed that they were different and wondered why.

Yet these days, particularly in the western world, there seems to be no difference in the behaviour of those in 'the church' compared to those outside it. We all seem to live and behave in exactly the same way. And yet we keep assuring ourselves, and others, that we have a better way to live. We keep selling this idea, and yet proving it's bankruptcy by our failure to live it.

Something is seriously wrong!

We have greater access to more sermons, commentaries and teaching than any generation that has ever lived. And yet we still witness bullying and abuse, power plays and politics in 'the church'.

We're inundated with 'christian' books, conferences and programs, but nothing changes - they seem incapable of effecting the transformation they promise.

We say we follow a God of love, and then we act hatefully towards those who don't comply with our expectations. We say we embrace freedom in Christ, and then want to control our brothers and sisters, insisting they conform to our way of thinking. We say Jesus is the head of the church, and then we program the Holy Spirit right out of our services.

The dissonance between what we say and how we live is overwhelming!

I'm not asking for perfection. I'm asking for fruit in keeping with the Vine. I want our actions to line up with the words we speak, and the promises we make. I want to see in each one of us the proof of a living, redeeming, transformational God.

It was because I believed we had a better way that I stayed so long and fought so hard in an abusive church situation. It was my hope that as each one of us pursued God above all else, we would somehow get through it and become a living testimony to his grace.

In the end, my hope proved futile. It seems we had no better way, no hope, no good news to offer others - just the putrid stench and unbearably bitter taste of our own counterfeit harvest!

Despite all the accusations to the contrary, I don't hate 'the church', and I don't despise my brothers and sisters in the institution.

But I do want the 'better way' we talk about to be manifest in how we live and interact with each other. I want the cry of Jesus's heart - that we be known by our love - to be realised in our midst.

I'm not asking for perfection - I just want to see fruit!

Silence Is Not Golden - It's My Time To Speak

By A Former Leader

I will no longer be silent!

I feel this today as clearly as I felt that we were to leave our CLB.

For the past year (except for a letter to two friends the first week we left) we have not initiated any relationships other than the ones who sought us out and those whom had already left the church.. We have worked hard sometimes to keep those – especially in the beginning – but we have not gone to our former friends to see if they wanted to have any sort of relationship with us.

But somewhere in the past few weeks I have decided something. I’M NOT WRONG!!

Now, I may not be entirely right. In fact I can say quite emphatically that I am certain that I am not entirely right on how I see facts from our past or our present situation. Really, that does not bother me anymore. I don’t haveto be completely right. What a freedom that is!!

Husband has always said that when I finally decide that I have done nothing wrong, I will be dangerous. He was right because what has kept me quiet all this time is that I felt that somehow, I was missing something. Somehow, I was reading the situation at our CLB wrong. Somehow, I would find out that really they were not as deceived as I thought they were. Somehow, I deserved to have relationships cut off. Somehow, I had done something really wrong. Somehow, what I had done necessitated my not being able to have relationships with these people.

I felt like I needed to just disappear from their lives so that they could go on unhindered in the church life that they have. If I saw them, I needed to just tell them that I loved them and “be nice to them.” I felt that I should not be the one to address the proverbial elephant that was standing in the corner of our conversation.

Then Daughter taught me a lesson the other day. She ran into some of our leaders unexpectedly. They waved and smiled. She approached them and without a lot of anger told them that it was not appropriate with what they have done to simply smile and wave at her. She stood her ground. She pointed out the elephant between them and her. She told them that she was not going to play the games and then turned and left.

Know what? In addressing the real issue that is between her and them, she felt free for the first time since she left. Fear rolled off her. She is a new person today. She is no longer slinking around. She is no longer afraid. She found freedom! I was so proud of her. To our knowledge, no one has had the guts to do what she did. Keep reading here.

Magic Words Syndrome

I recently re-read a couple of the emails (or nasty-grams, as I call them) I received from one of the board members of my old church. It was quite interesting to engage with them now, without the incredible pain of betrayal and judgement I felt at the time they were first sent. It feels like they are full of justification on his part and judgement against me. None of the issues I have raised were ever addressed, I just received a continual barrage of words telling me how much I was the one in the wrong.

Apparently I was living in the past, causing division, gossiping to others, slandering the leadership, using cruel words and accusations, refusing to walk in the power of reconciliation and anyway, I "gave as good as I got". The ones who'd abused me were walking in their freedom and I was still (by my own choice) walking in bondage.

The very last email correspondence was from last year, when I had tried a last-ditch effort to find a way of bringing about reconciliation between us. The letter started by telling me how little it had cost me to meet with 'D' (even though he had nominated a time exactly when he knew I needed to be collecting my children from school), but how much incredible trouble he had gone to.

What it articulated to me was how important he was with all his important ministry and everything, and how unimportant I was because I'm just a trouble maker, and how grateful I should be that he bothered to actually meet with me at all. He assured me that he was willing to pay such an immense cost because he thought 'reconciliation' would be the outcome. The trouble was that by reconciliation, I can only assume he meant I'd finally shut up and stop making trouble for him.

It seems I was in grave error right from the start because my "welcome [of him] was icy cold" and my husband's was "only slightly warmer". Seriously! What did he expect? I felt completely unsafe with this man and it was only my desperate belief that there had to be a better way than we'd found so far that propelled me into meeting with him at all. I'd felt sick to the pit of my stomach at the thought of that meeting because of all I'd suffered at his hands. He'd already made it quite clear that elder J was his golden boy, and that the only part I had to play was in submitting to J's "godly leadership" (although I would have described it more in terms of abusive usurper-ship, but then I'm the evil one of the piece). When I'd objected to the abuse I'd experienced, he'd made it crystal clear by his nasty-grams that the blame was mine alone.

This was also the man who had preached for 3 weeks in a row(!) warning the church against me and whose judgement against me had caused my brother and his family to sever all contact with me. I did explain this to him, but he rejected any responsibility in this matter.

In revisiting his written words, two things became painfully clear.

The first one was the evidence of what I've come to call 'magic words syndrome'. The way it works is that in dealing with an issue, you listen to the one you are 'counselling', agree that they believe in what they say they are struggling with, get them to say some magic words, and hey presto, everything's all ok.

The trouble with this approach is that it doesn't actually deal with any of the very real, existing problems. It doesn't deal with the emotional damage that has been inflicted, neither does it address the relational issues that have caused so much devastation. You repeat some formula words as if they have some sort of magic power, say forgiveness has happened and then equate that forgiveness with actual reconciliation.

This leaves those who have devastated you by their behaviour completely free to continue their ill treatment of you, because everything's been dealt with, and it places the onus on you to smile and just keep accepting the abuse. And woe betide you if you find yourself still wanting to deal with things, because that just proves that you are bitter and unforgiving; unable to move on (like everyone else has!) and rejecting the reconciliation that's been decreed to have happened - as if reconciliation can ever be a unilateral event imposed on another!!!

The second point, I will address in my next post, Silencing is Abuse.

"Don't Talk About It"

By Kristen at Wordgazer's Words

- a member of the Spiritual Abuse Survivor Blogs Network

I was in college, living in an ex-fraternity house made over into a Christian boarding house for members of Maranatha Campus Ministries. It was 1983 or 84.

The leaders of Maranatha, Bob Weiner and Joe Smith, had come up with another new revelation that they said was from God. They took their text from John 15:8:

"By this is My Father glorified, that you bear much fruit, and so prove to be My disciples."

Bob Weiner and Joe Smith said that by "bearing fruit," Jesus meant "making converts." This meant, they said, that the more converts to Christ you made, the more you had "proved to be His disciple." Therefore, those of us who had never made a convert were not really disciples of Christ. Oh, we were saved all right, and we would go to heaven when we died, but were were all a sort of lesser follower of Jesus. Not bearing fruit. Not proving ourselves. Not quite measuring up.

I and some of my friends were very upset when we heard this new teaching. We were accustomed to taking every word uttered by Bob or Joe as the very truth of God. They had taught us "total commitment" to Jesus, to our leaders, and to our brothers and sisters in the church. To follow Jesus as He wanted, we must follow Him with our whole hearts, not being "lukewarm" like so many who claimed to be Christians were.

I had embraced total commitment and believed I was following with my whole heart. But suddenly now, even that wasn't quite good enough.

I began to search the Scriptures. Could the passage really mean what they said it did? On the other hand, should I be questioning my leaders? Feeling a little guilty, but also remembering that they had also taught us to read the Bible for ourselves, I looked at every passage where "fruit" was mentioned in the New Testament. It didn't seem to bear out what they were saying. Somewhat relieved (maybe I was a real disciple after all!), I determined to wait for Joe Smith's upcoming visit to our fellowship. Surely if I put my questions before him, he would see where I was coming from and maybe even get back together with Bob Weiner to discuss it again.

A few weeks later, Joe Smith arrived. We had spent the time before his arrival scrubbing the ex-frat house from top to bottom, preparing and handing out flyers for the meetings, and praying, praying, praying for lots of new people to come, be converted, and become members of Maranatha. Since I was also carrying a full course load of college credits and trying to keep up with my regular household chores, I hadn't had much time to think about what I would say to Joe Smith after the meeting.

I don't remember what he preached about. But afterwards, when other church members were clustering around the great man praising him for the sermon and receiving his blessings, I approached him, shaking inside, and asked if we could speak in private for a moment. With a kind, fatherly look, he agreed and we stepped apart a little from the meeting room, out into the foyer.

Nervously I asked him about the new revelation, about what "bearing fruit" meant. I told him that when I had looked it up in the New Testament, in all other passages where "fruit" was mentioned in terms of "bearing" it, it seemed to be talking character traits-- about the fruits of the Holy Spirit from Galatians 5:22-23, like love, joy, peace, patience, etc. I told him that in every other passage where "fruit" was mentioned in terms of converts to Christ, it was spoken of in terms of "gathering," not "bearing." I also asked if he thought "proving" to be a disciple really meant "proving to Jesus' satisfaction that you were a disciple" and not "proving to the world to be Jesus' disciple."

Joe Smith let me babble on for a few minutes. The look of kind, fatherly attention never left his face. Then, in just a few words, he let me know that I was wrong. "I discern that you are not letting Jesus' words into your heart," he said. "You are notresponding to His words-- you are only reacting. You need to stop, listen to the truth of what we're teaching, and let it go deep inside you. Do you understand?"

Speechlessly I nodded. Joe Smith was telling me that not only was I wrong about what I thought the Bible said, but that I needed to stop fighting the truth that I was not a full, true disciple of Jesus. I needed to let this truth sink deep inside me. I felt myself letting it do so. And as I did, I began to weep uncontrollably.

Joe Smith smiled. "That's it. Let the Spirit of God touch you."

How could I tell him that I was weeping not because I felt the Spirit of God touching me, not because the truth was sinking in and changing me, but because I now believed I was a second-class follower of Jesus, a person Christ was not really satisfied with? That all my efforts to follow Him with my whole heart were in vain unless I could make a convert? That since I could never seem to speak the right words to make someone else want to follow Jesus, I probably never would be a real disciple?

My tears were tears of despair.

I couldn't tell him. Blindly I turned and stumbled up the two flights of stairs to my own room in the Maranatha house. I sank down onto the floor, and cried and cried.

After about 20 minutes of hard crying, I felt a stirring in my heart. Then four short words out of nowhere flooded into my mind, along with a deep warmth that filled my heart to the brim. "Daughter. He is wrong."

A wordless conviction filled me with assurance that I knew was not from myself. Jesus did absolutely consider me His disciple. He was fully satisfied with me. Joe Smith and Bob Weiner could be wrong. They were wrong.

My tears vanished, and joy welled up inside me as I wiped my face and blew my nose. I got up from the floor and went downstairs to help serve food. As I ran down the steps, the deep assurance filled me again. Joe Smith was wrong, and God had spoken to me. I was Christ's disciple no matter what any human being said. Even if they called themselves prophets.

But I told no one.

Not even my friends, who I knew were also upset by the new teaching. Not my pastor, or pastor's wife. Certainly not Joe Smith! A leader was never to be spoken against, in public or in private. To speak out would be to rebel against his God-given authority and to shame myself by showing a rebellious heart.

So I held my joy inside me, drinking of the certainty that my leaders could be wrong, in the privacy of my own heart. I never felt the same way about them again. I continued to read the Bible for myself, and if something they said didn't make sense to me, I no longer felt obligated to believe it.

I guess for me, it was the beginning of the end of Maranatha Campus Ministries. Years later, the group would dissolve under protests from some of the pastors of individual churches that the upper leadership was too authoritarian. But my own freedom began that night, and as I rested in the vine (as the actual context of Jesus' words about "bearing fruit" in John 15:8 said to do), I did indeed bear fruit. Fruit of strength in my own heart instead of dependence on others. Fruit of confidence in my relationship with Christ. Fruit of compassion for others who were being made miserable by destructive teachings.

And fruit of understanding-- first-hand understanding-- of what "spiritual abuse" meant.

Joe Smith was right and I was wrong, because Joe Smith was big and I was small. Because Joe Smith was a leader and I was an underling. Because Joe Smith was an authority, and I was a nobody.

No words against Joe Smith were ever to be spoken. If I spoke them, it was I-- not Joe-- who was in the wrong. Joe Smith could never be in the wrong, because he was in authority.

Spiritual abuse.

This last week, a prominent Christian leader was forced to resign amid allegations that he was having a sexual relationship with a 17-year-old girl, a prior victim of sexual abuse, who had come to him for pastoral care. Some blog sites devoted to exposing and helping victims of spiritual abuse have posted stories about it. And some of the comments on these sites have taken a page right out of Maranatha Campus Ministries' old book.

How dare you post something like this about a man of God? Who do you think you are?

This girl consented, didn't she? And anyway, no sin is worse than any other sin in God's eyes. We need to show mercy to this pastor. After all, "love covers a multitude of sins." [The fact that Jesus placed greater emphasis upon offending "one of these little ones" than on any other sin, is not taken into account. Matt. 18:6]

This pastor is a godly man! Don't contribute to the rumors! We shouldn't be judging him, we should be praying for him and his family! [No mention is made of possibly praying for the 17-year-old girl and her family.]

You don't know what you're talking about. God will be angry with you for bearing false witness.

This is an internal matter for the church involved. Stay out of it. You are casting stones at a man of God. You should just be quiet.

Counselors for adult children of alcoholics will say that one of the features of a dysfunctional, codependent family is the "don't talk about it" message.

Be quiet. This is family business and no one else's. How dare you talk like that about your father?

Keep the secret. Sweep it under the carpet. No one must see. No one must know.

But it isn't only families that can be dysfunctional. Churches can be, too. And when they are, they will tell their members this same thing. The result is what's called "enabling:"

An enabler is a person who by their actions make it easier for an addict to continue their self-destructive behaviour.

It is possible to become addicted to authority. A person who is so addicted will uphold his or her authority at all costs, even at the expense of those whom their position of authority was created to serve. And the person who is addicted will encourage his or her followers in enabling behaviors, to make it easier to hold onto his or her authority. When religion, God or the Bible are used to encourage enabling, in ways that bring shame, harm or misery to the enablers, this is spiritual abuse.

I agree that this pastor needs help-- but not at the expense of his victim. And "don't talk about it" will help neither of them. It will only perpetuate the girl's shame and misery, and enable the pastor to continue in his abusive, dysfunctional behaviors. In Ephesians 5:1-13 Paul talks about relating to other professing Christians who commit heinous sins. He says in verse 11-13:

"And do not participate in the unfruitful deeds of darkness, but instead even expose them. For it is disgraceful even to speak of the things which are done by them in secret. But all things become visible when they are exposed by the light, for everything that is visible is light."

Paul is not saying, "The person who did the deed is a Christian, and therefore we need to keep this quiet." He is not saying, "The deed is disgraceful, therefore youwill be disgraced if you speak of it." He is saying, "The disgraceful deed must be exposed in all its disgrace, precisely because it is so disgraceful even to speak about!"

Yes, it is disgraceful to speak of a pastor entering a sexual relationship with a vulnerable member of his flock whom he was supposed to be helping. But it is not disgraceful to the person speaking. It is disgraceful to the person doing the deed spoken of. However it also brings the deed out into the light, which is the only place where healing can happen.

I'm not saying it's ok to have a free-for-all of name-calling and abusive words about this pastor. Two wrongs don't make a right. But in the light is where the enabling stops. In the light is where the perpetrator must face himself and his deeds. In the light is where the victim can see that the shame is not hers to bear.

So to those who are saying, "Don't talk about it," I say this.

Do talk about it. Stop sweeping it under the carpet. The stories must be told. Stop shaming those who tell them. The person who is in the wrong is not above the rest of us. He needs the light just as much as anyone.

"For the fruit of the light consists in all goodness and righteousness and truth." Eph. 5:9.

Am I Missing Something Here?

“Everyone will know that you are my disciples

because of your love for each other.” John 13:35

Mark Driscoll, pastor of Seattle's Mars Hill Church, is famously (or is that infamously?) quoted as boasting, “There is a pile of dead bodies behind the Mars Hill bus, and by God's grace, it'll be a mountain by the time we're done.... ‎You either get on the bus, or you get run over by the bus. Those are the options."

I have to admit that when I first heard those words, I was shocked. Surely a pastor, a ‘shepherd’ of God’s people, wouldn’t really think this way, let alone speak it out! And then I got to thinking; at least he had the guts to be honest – there’s no ambiguity about the way he intends to run things. Buyer (or at least, sheep) beware!

But how many others in church leadership act out this attitude, one way or another, without maybe even seeing it - or being willing to admit to it? How many broken, battered people have been ‘run over’ by leaders who love ‘their’ church more than the people in it?

What is it that makes us so blind that we willingly damage our brothers and sisters - seemingly without conscience or regret? How do we possibly justify behaviour which inflicts such deep, sometimes mortal wounds?

Seriously! Am I missing something here?

My Story - Part 2 - Alarm Bells Start to Ring

As we engaged in the journey forward, there was a strong acknowledgement of our own brokenness and our total reliance on God - which was why we obeyed when we believed God was telling us not to call another pastor (“do not to ask for a king!”).

To ensure we had ‘back-up’ in case of any future unresolvable conflict in the church, we established a board of reference. This consisted of four men from various places around the country with whom we would cultivate relationship and to whom both the leadership and the body could turn for advice and ‘oversight’. One of these men had been an associate pastor at our old church (board member D).

For the most part over the next few years things seemed to go well, and we felt God was blessing our efforts to hear him and be obedient. There was a spirit of goodwill amongst the leadership, and even one difficult situation, which resulted in one of the elders being replaced, seemed to have been negotiated reasonably enough. (In hindsight, I see that we had put ‘principle’ before relationship in that incident, but at the time, we thought we were doing really rather well.)

Late in 2011 there was an incident where elder J found himself in fairly sharp disagreement with the rest of us over one particular issue. This was seemingly resolved with what appeared to be a clear directive from God. Unfortunately, what we didn’t know was that elder J had been deeply wounded by the incident and he carried his hurt silently for several weeks. Elder J and his wife were close friends with my husband and I, so it soon became apparent to me that things were not as ok.

In January, I raised the issue with elder J and urged him to share his hurt with his fellow elders. There was great resistance to my suggestion and I was informed that board member M had cautioned him to be careful with both what he shared, as well the timing of that sharing.

This set off alarm bells for me… but I trusted these people and believed they only wanted the best for us, so I tried to bury the sense of rejection and pain that was growing inside me. (Dissonance, anyone?)

In my saner moments, I could see an increasing tendency for J (and his wife who was at every elders meeting) to treat me as an inferior. We were a team of equals, yet if I made a decision on my own, I had to have a meeting to explain and justify myself to him. If he thought we should make a particular decision, it wouldn’t matter what arguments I put forward - I would be beaten into submission with the ongoing repetitious comeback of, “I strongly believe…” In the midst of this, my physical and emotional health was deteriorating rapidly.