On Leaving Church 2

About 8 years ago I made a decision that several 'good' Christian people disapproved of.  Indeed, they felt so concerned about this decision of mine that they spoke concernedly about it to my friends.  Interestingly they did not ask me about it or about the story that lead to the decision.  They were just sure that there was a proof text somewhere that showed that what I had done was wrong.  Some even went so far as to refuse to pray with me.

The unspoken understanding of the vicar was that my course of action had caused problems and I should be understanding of the difficulties that others were facing. and that was that.  Could I in all conscience share communion with those who had so publicly refused fellowship to me?  And how did I feel as I watched others avoid me by walking down different aisles at church? I struggle with the idea that people might like me.  I tend not to trust people's affection

Take a look at my heart now;
see the castle I've built;
there to keep the hurt memories.
Can the walls come tumbling down?

Take a look at my life now;
keep you at arms length;
just to stop love from hurting me.
Can the walls come tumbling down?

and this situation was playing powerfully into negative selft-stories that had accompanied me for many years. I started to go down hill; I stopped entertaining, I stopped receiving communion and found myself avoiding Christians.  I had been judged and found wanting and I guess I assumed that would always be the case.  After about a year and a half of this I finally assessed that the situation was not going to improve.  What was more I found that I was blaming God as if He were rejecting me.  It was at this point that I decided that staying at that church was doing me more damage than I could handle, so I stopped going.

I was feeling pretty bruised.  After a few weeks I tried a local church but really it didn't fit me, so a few more weeks elapsed.  I then tried another local church, St Martin's.  I knew of the vicar by reputation and suspected that he also wouldn't approve of the course of action I had taken.  I went along when I thought there would be a service but it had been cancelled but I did have a conversation with the vicar and that confirmed the response I had anticipated.  (Looking back I can see that I mishandled this conversation and learned from it for a later occasion.)  So 'fortified' with this confirmation I decided to avoid church, groups of Christians and rely on a small group of friends who had supported me through the previous couple of years.

This stage lasted about a year.  Easter was coming up and I felt that it was time to be part of a fellowship.  I just didn't think that I was going anywhere without the discipline of being a part of a church family.  There is something about accepting the authority of others, even when you disagree, that I think is healthy.  How can we expect to handle God's authority if we can't handle a human institution's authority?  Obedience has to be learned and being under another's authority is a bit like practising a sport before doing it for 'real'.  In a small fellowship group that kind of authority is not really present.  And apart from that, I just felt that I needed to be part of a larger fellowship.

So I went back to St Martins.  I so remember gritting my teeth and driving myself out of my front door, forcing myself into the church.  The first few weeks were grim.  The vicar encouraged me to stay for coffee and get to know people, but we really don't realise just how terrifying a cluster of people who know each other and are happily talking with each other are to an outsider.  Anyway, I finally got talking to Barry and inch by inch I started to settle.  I joined Barry and Sarah's housegroup and started the journey of trusting other Christians again.  I got to know the vicar Peter and his wife Wendy and found them to be supportive and welcoming.  I only stayed at St Martin's for about a year before I moved house to Northamptonshire, but I cherish the memory of a place where I struggled through the pain barrier of Christian disagreement and judgement.  And I cherish those who helped me in those struggles (even though I suspect that they didn't realise how they were helping me!)  I very much doubt that I would have been able to join my current church without this experience.

So I moved and found a new church in a village that appealed to me as a home.  Three years later I am immensely happy in that church family.  I guess that Christians are at ease with people and I had been a problem before.  A bit sad really, shouldn't people be people with problems and so be welcomed into the body of the Christ who was wounded for our infirmities?  But, I guess that Christians are fragile.  I suppose that we shouldn't expect too much of each other.  But maybe we could hope?

Comments

[bihari]

Hope, yes! And all the more powerful after such a journey! I am so glad you've found a church home where you're happy.

Thanks for your so-insightful comment on my blog. That was an eye-opener.

[Howard]

Loving the trilogy. I found Jamieson's book very stimulating. Perhaps there is a thread amongst a certain group of us who have actually at some point "left the (or a) Church". It hurts and it makes you look at Church in a different, less "romantic" way.

Keep it coming.