Pursued

*You can find the previous post in this series here.

Wounded and disillusioned after being forced out of both our little Reformed Baptist church and my family, Jon and I headed for a more Arminian-leaning mega church with Southern Baptist affiliations. Thinking honesty the best approach, my husband went straight to the senior pastor and shared about our last two church experiences.  The pastor expressed sympathy but cautioned, “If you see any problems here—don’t address them.” That command—don’t address problems—made us uncomfortable, but only weeks out from the birth of our third boy and desperately needing rest, we agreed to the pastor’s request. Desiring to simply disappear into the background, we attended an adult Sunday School class and slowly began pouring ourselves into the children’s ministry. Over time we began serving so often that we rarely attended church services. Preferring the intimacy of adult Sunday School over the impersonal context of the church auditorium, we built friendships within the class and rarely interacted with pastoral leadership. During this season we met many other dear souls who loved Jesus and kids. Together we sang songs, read bible stories, listened to AWANA sections, and chased little ones all over the church playground.

Then one morning a new pastor and his wife showed up in our Sunday School class. That pastor began monopolizing my time in Sunday School—sitting next to me and pontificating on all he was learning as a PhD student at Midwestern Seminary, even talking over my husband when he tried to engage the conversation. This pastor’s attentions escalated to following me down hallways, singling me out in group settings, and then cornering me in an empty nursery room and proceeding to openly flatter my intellect and athletic ability. Fearful and confused, we felt helpless to do anything about his behavior because a) he hadn’t done anything overt, b) who would believe us? and c) we’d promised the senior pastor to not address any problems. So once again we took the only viable option—we left the Sunday School class.

With no Sunday School class, we found ourselves free to attend a church service only to discover the pastoral staff was launching a building-fund campaign. From the pulpit, the senior pastor spelled out just how much money we should give to pay off the building. He exhorted us to give up certain “luxuries” for “the sake of the church” and went so far as to list out the things we didn’t actually “need,” like new tires for our vehicles.  The manner in which he spoke—shaming us as stingy takers whose duty to God and church was to sacrifice not only time, but also—for us anyway—our grocery money, felt harsh. We had trouble seeing how this type of financial pressuring was anything other than fleecing the flock, especially since we were acutely aware that most of the pastors drove expensive vehicles and lived in upper-middle-class homes with three car garages. We began to wonder if this church existed for feeding the starving sheep or feeding the ‘fat’ shepherds. From our view in the pews, we watched as the pastors flattered and pursued wealthy congregants, while overlooking the poor and lower middle class. Those people who could not contribute to the finances or work hard to promote the successful image of the church were treated like charity cases or ignored. Then we learned from friends that the leadership purposely dismantled a thriving ministry to single moms—led by a competent, opinionated female—saying it was “too hard to manage and eating up our resources.”

Jon and I felt physically ill when we heard the shepherds didn’t view single moms—the least of these—as worth their time and resources. Our trust in the leadership deeply broken, we left that church. Ironically, we later learned that the pastor who cornered me in a nursery room was discreetly fired for “problems in his marriage,” given a severance package, and recommended for a position in another church.

Reflection

• In what ways do you see the American Dream—kingdom of wealth and professionalism—play a role in your own story of church wounding?
• Throughout our difficult experiences in church, one troubling gender-related theme developed: false shepherds consistently seek to flatter and win the affirmation of women, regardless of their marital status. How is this pattern connected to the desire for power and control? Did this pattern play out in your own experience? If so, add this on your timeline and consider the emotional and spiritual affect it had on you.

You can read other posts in this series here.