I joined the Edmonds United Methodist Church for worship this morning, where my friend Ann is serving as a pastor. Watching from my computer screen, as I had a hearty breakfast (of hash browns, turkey bacon, spinach and eggs, and strong black tea), I recognized that this was perhaps a new (pandemic-induced) experience for many Christians today, but that I was used to it. As someone who has been sensitive to the toxicity of many churches for a few years now, "self-quarantining" and "social-distancing" on Sundays has been my new normal.
A few years ago, I decided to boycott churches who did not have women or people of color in visible places of leadership. ("Then why do you choose a white male as your therapist?" a friend asked. Because sitting under the preaching of a white male who is senior pastor is a very different thing from having a white male listen to my problems, and support but not give me advice. I will support any white male who takes on a humble and private position of listening, rather than taking the spotlight and talking! ). To me, churches should not reinforce power structures that already exist in society. Jesus' ministry was all about elevating the lowest in our world. He did not choose the Pharisees (who already had financial and political power, compared to most Jews) to build his church. He chose Peter, a poor fisherman.
I also took issue with churches and communities that used exclusively male language for God. The theological/academic community already knows not to do this, and any paper that uses "He, Him, His" for God is automatically problematized. Churches, as studies show, are usually 20 years behind where the Academy is, so most communities still assume God is male. Those who have studied both Scripture and church history in depth know there is a place for God as Mother, in addition to God the Father--but the patriarchy that is woven into most of our churches feels uncomfortable with (and frankly, intimidated by) this. Just this week, both my class in seminary and my online small group are studying Julian of Norwich, and even back in the 14th century, the Mother Nature of God was being written about by devout Christians.
In Boston, I visited 12 churches in 24 months. I found one church that met my criteria. Perhaps it was not a healthy approach to pre-determine what I was looking for, rather than allowing myself to be "led." However, given that walking into most churches gave me severe anxiety (and nausea in my stomach), it was a self-protective measure, if anything else.
This also meant that I started joining various churches on Livestream on Sundays, rather than physically going out. Increasingly, and especially upon moving back to California, I turned to Contemplative sources from ancient Christians to feed my soul. I was done with churches that were run like businesses, and who were more invested in organizational numbers and programming than people's actual spiritual-emotional health.
To me, so much of American church culture runs counter to the Gospel of Jesus, which He gave his life for and which people have been martyred for. Jesus came to heal individuals on holistic levels, not to increase church attendance. He came to incarnate God's love--"I came that they may have life and have it abundantly" (John 10:10 ESV)--not to sell tickets to Heaven. Why are Evangelicals so focused on "saving" people but not actually being the heart and hands of Christ, to a broken world? How could so many Christians have voted for Trump, a man who showed extreme racism and misogyny, and definitely not a "preferential treatment for the poor"?
As a helping professional and educator, many of the colleagues I have respected the most have been spiritual-but-not-religious. Unfortunately, some of the colleagues I have seen model the most harmful behavior have been religious-but-not-spiritual. This has been the case for the last decade, but until I went to seminary, I tried to ignore what I was observing, because to truly see the trend was to acknowledge that there is something deeply wrong with Christian culture in America.
Similarly, I have always been uncomfortable with the American Evangelical church's emphasis on "saving" people but not truly committing to what Jesus preached about, from Isaiah 61. If Christians are truly committed to the Gospel, then they must take seriously how Jesus ministered during his time on earth. He touched people, he violated social norms, he hung out with outcasts, he verbally (and physically) attacked those in religious power--the John Pipers of our current day, he addressed people's trauma and life stories, and he healed and listened and wept.
Religion without spirituality is, in my opinion, much like what the Pharisees represented in Jesus' day. Church attendance in America is in decline, and rather than repenting of their sins and being willing to change, so many religious institutions point the finger at those who have "backslidden." Some of my friends who have left the church are the most honest people I know. They have integrity, and they have paid a price for questioning the things that don't ring true for them.
I have increasingly seen my role to be that of a Friend. To those who have left the church but still seek spiritual sustenance. (Often, churches stop maintaining contact with people once they have left. Definitely the opposite of Jesus' story of the Shepherd who left the 99 sheep for the 1!). To those who pastor churches from "social locations" that represent the margins--my queer, female, and minority friends whose legitimacy and leadership are often questioned by the narrow-minded.
Too, I am convinced that my calling is to be a Chaplain. In Divinity School, friends often asked why I was not pursuing the M.Div degree. Those friends are mostly pastors today. I do not believe my primary gifting lies in leading congregations. But I do feel invested in caring for the hearts and minds of those who are in those positions. If I can be a chaplain to the pastors, and minister to the unchurched, then my heart will be full.
My friend Ann is both a person of color and a woman. She is a young woman, not yet 30. The last time I physically went to a church service was when I visited hers, last month in Seattle. I was glad to join her church service online this morning. It gives me hope that there is a new generation of leaders willing to fight, with Love, for what Jesus would have deemed important.
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