I have been an active church member my entire adult life. I’m one of those rare breeds of Christian who ran toward—rather than away from—the body of Christ during my college years. Even as I attended a state university that was grossly antagonistic toward the Christian faith, I spent my Sunday mornings in a small Sunday School class in the basement of a hundred-year-old church with a big white steeple, leading little ones in finger plays about Zacchaeus the wee little man and a boy named David. I taught that same group of children for three consecutive years, watching them grow from cute kindergarteners to capable second graders, and as I counted down the days to my wedding, their parents helped them host a sweet bridal shower for me, complete with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and mini clay pots handpainted with crosses, robots, and rainbows in primary colors.
It was my first experience as a full, adult member of a church, and it confirmed for me many of the things I had learned as a young girl sitting alongside my Mamaw in a pew: community is one of the sweetest fruits of the Christian life.
Many, many years later, I feel even more deeply the truth of that sentiment. And I also know that it works in reverse—as precious as it is to find true fellowship in the company of believers, the wounds inflicted by those who know Christ are among the hardest to bear.
Reveling in the love of those who see the world as we do is encouraging, uplifting, and affirming. We find fellowship in the body with people who may not share any element of our life except true submission to the one and only living God, and we are raised up. We are challenged to look deeper, to open our hands wider, and to entwine our own imperfect lives with theirs. It’s an untidy business, to be sure, but it’s also one of great joy. There is nothing quite like experiencing just a small taste of being known in the way that Christ knows us.
But to find the opposite at the hands of brothers and sisters in Christ is crushing. Suffering the rejection of those whose walks should most closely match ours is a very special kind of hurt. Being doubted, misunderstood, or ostracized is something believers are told by Jesus to expect…and yet, the very last place we anticipate experiencing it is among others who call themselves His followers.
During the years, I’ve met countless believers who no longer seek the fellowship of other believers. Many of them prefer not to even wear the label “Christian.” They fly under a variety of flags: “Post-Church,” “Dones” (as in, “done with church”), and plain old, “Not Churchy.” Nearly every single one of them cites not a difficulty with faith, the Bible, or God’s call on their lives as having squashed their desire to come together with others to worship and be in community…but rather, a relational break with fellow believers. Words like hurt, ignored, misunderstood, excluded, outsider, fake, cliquish, legalistic, judged, abusive, and more should never be part of one’s experience with Christians, but these believers share them frequently, and say that they’ve been burned one too many times to invest in relationships with church members ever again.
Again, these are believers. These are those who have heard the Good News and responded. These are our brothers and sisters in Christ.
These are also folks who are getting it wrong.
And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. —Hebrews 10:24-25
The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. —1 Corinthians 12:21-27
The Bible doesn’t leave room for quitting. I know, I know—sometimes, it just doesn’t seem worth it. Sometimes the pain is too much. Sometimes the injustice is too great. Sometimes you want the final word. Sometimes finding out that your friends were never really your friends stings. Sometimes you want an apology. Sometimes you can’t bear the thought of laying yourself bare and vulnerable again. And yet…
It’s what we’re called to do.
Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. —Colossians 3:12-15
Christians will let you down. They will never be perfect. They may, in fact, fail more often than they succeed as they attempt to be conformed to Christ’s image, and not the world’s. Knowing that these inevitable failures are coming makes it hard to forgive and keep walking forward, and even harder to try again to invest in the community we so desperately need.
And yet, we must. Our only other option is to attempt a sort of Lone Wolf Christianity that’s mentioned nowhere in the Bible and is outside the realm of any kind of Acts model. That’s not really much of an option at all, is it?
All that remains, then, is to pray for healing, be open to reconciliation, and to listen closely for God’s voice as He leads you to a place where you can be transplanted and given new roots. Remember, your hurt is not greater than God’s ability to heal. Your fear is not bigger than God’s security. And while He does not promise that you will never again be hurt by the people who call on His Name, He does guarantee that He knows what it is to be rejected by those who ought to have understood Him the most, and that there is, at the end of the race, a prize of righteousness.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. —Hebrews 12:1-3
Wonderful writing! Good points. Thank you so much. 💗