when the church serves one bad meal

funny, christians always love to use that line... “oh it’s not God. it’s the people.”

when others open up and share how they’ve walked away and left the church this is the standard response. never empathy or a curiosity to know more. always that same line over and over repackaged in a variety of clever Instagram infographics.

what I find even more humorous is the complete disillusion they uphold that God’s fans are not strictly connected to Him. or at least supposed to be. the very essence and existence of the church is supposedly meant to be a shining pillar of His love and power for the world to see.

and yet, why is it unfair to point fingers at that very establishment that was supposed to reflect everything He is the day a churchgoer wakes up and realizes they’ve suffered at the hand of spiritual abuse their entire life?

I’ve heard the ignorant compare deconstructing Christians and their experiences to a fast food restaurant. why can a restaurant mess up someone’s food order dozens of times and the person still keep coming back, but a Christian has one bad experience with the church and suddenly they call it quits?

they don’t realize that it wasn’t just the greeter at the door or bad-tasting coffee that made people leave. it’s festering, reeling, life-altering wounds most often dating back to the very beginning of people’s lives. this pain is not fast food.

let’s call it what it is: trauma. abuse. fear-mongering. control. power. comparing it to anything else is doing everyone a disservice and walking a dangerously fine line.

those who walk that fine line are afraid.

most Christians who walk away from the church aren’t just walking away from one “bad experience.” the dozens of stories I’ve heard are from angry, traumatized, and frightened humans who’ve grown up in the church. most of these people have dedicated their entire lives to a god who taught them…

…if only they’d had more faith, they wouldn’t burn in hell for eternity (but you only need faith the size of a mustard seed)

…if only they’d avoided catching the eye of that lovable, playful youth pastor who just couldn't keep his hands off that young girl (but God protects His little ones)

…if only they’d tithed more to keep in God’s favor and protect what little was left of their finances (but we are blessed and living in abundance)

…if only they’d learned God’s lessons of trust and surrender sooner before their little boy fell fatally ill (but God is able to heal— only a select few)

…if only they’d submitted better as women of the church to avoid their husbands’ corrections at the first hint of insubordination (but Christians say that God loves women and uses them to work His plan)

…if only they’d hidden that colorful side of themselves a little better before they were forced to leave the church because oh, their love wasn't good enough (but love is unconditional and is the most important thing to God).

how carefree and gleeful it must feel to throw accusations at someone just because you’re scared it’ll happen to you. if a seemingly devoted religious person can deconstruct and walk away from God *snap* just like that, then maybe… just maybe… you’re not invincible?

people judge because they don’t understand or they’re afraid. I always took the insistent ramblings of a defending Christian as both. it’s easier to come up with excuses for your god that you base your entire life on than to take an honest, sometimes shocking look at someone else’s deeply tragic religious experience and say, “hey I’m sorry. it doesn’t make sense and it’s deeply unfair. you have every right to be mad at God, the church, the people AND hold them accountable.”

because most of the time, deconstructing Christians are asking questions that Christians don’t have answers for AND THAT’S OK. it’s time we start holding space for those sharing their stories, even when it makes us uncomfortable. God doesn’t need to be defended during those times. if He is truly who Christians say he is, He can certainly hold His own.

and I know for a fact He’s not afraid of our stories and questions. are you?