“I’m walking away from the church.” As somewhat of a misfit pastor, I find people sharing this story with me more and more these days. And although the character names change each time, the story nearly always includes these plot points; crosses draped with the American flag, controlling/abusive behavior by church leaders, inconsistent teaching on who’s “in” and who’s “out”, questionable use of Scripture, the unholy alliance between church and partisan politics, and/or a refusal to have any conversation on how to lovingly and gracefully include our female and LGBTQ+ sisters and brothers into the inner circle of the faith community. Did I check all the boxes for you?
The more I hear these stories, the fewer answers I have. I just sit silently listening to the hurt and pain. And I’m split between wanting to defend and guard the church and feeling such a need to embrace and cover the wounded as the shrapnel of American religion flies overhead. I don’t have the will to defend the Church anymore. These wounds are too real. The pain is palpable. And as a pastor, I’ve had to recognize and confess my complicity. A part of what we thought the church was in America—and defended so vehemently—will have to die.
And so as we turn to do the work of healing, what are we to say?
Maybe this:
Maybe you do need to leave the church. Maybe you do need to seriously question some of the stories you’ve been told.
While you’re at it, just question everything.
And it’s going to feel like death. It’s going to feel like you’re free-falling. It’s going to feel like you’ve lost all orientation to what’s up or down, east or west. You will most likely be bastardized by your faith community.
But the good news is that as you wipe the tears from your eyes and focus your vision, you realize that you aren’t alone. You were never alone. Christ fell with you all the way.
And those of us who have gone through similar experiences can attest that wherever Christ is present, He draws others to Him. And in Hannibal, He is calling people with similar experiences to reimagine and wrestle over what Christian community can look like.
The Spirit is tasking us to reimagine what it is to be Evangelical. What is it to be followers of Jesus and his teachings, framed by his Sermon on the Mount.
We are tasked to reimagine what it is to be Charismatic. What is it to live empowered by Christ’s presence?
We are tasked to reimagine what it is to be Sacramental. To be the embodiment of God’s grace and restoration to a scared and broken world.
We are reimagining.
And this place, The Table, is where you can belong. And not just the well-worn plastic-y Christian veneer that you put on to fit in, but where ALL of you belongs—your hopes, doubts, quirks, fears, dreams, and shattered pieces.
Take the risk. Join the conversation.
-Jared