On Still Being Angry And Being An Asshole

*As this post has gained a much wider viewership than I anticipated, I'm adding some clarification at the bottom

I tried to go back to my old home church when I was home for winter break.

Not for the whole service, but for the response time of prayer and worship at the end. Even though I've been doing better moving on from all the pain that I experienced there, some hurt and unforgiveness still lingered, and I wanted to get rid of it. Those aren't fun things to carry around, you know? I was going to try and pray the rest of it away, and I thought being present there would be a good catalyst.

So I went. And I stood in the back. And I could not even bring myself to close my eyes or bow my head. I just looked around the room... I recognized about a dozen faces. Each and every single one of those people had personally hurt me or one of my very dear friends. The leadership standing in the front row, who'd ignored email after email and even after multiple meetings refused to acknowledge me. The person leading worship who'd gotten one of best friends pushed out of church. The guy who'd been my best friend who'd refused to talk to me for months. All of them, lifting their hands and signing, huge smiles on their faces. You are *not* nice people! was pretty much the only thought running through my mind.

One of the leaders walked past where I was and acknowledged me with a head tilt and a lifted hand and a look of confusion, as if to say, haven't seen you here in awhile... but he did not stop or speak to me. I've come to expect this, but it still sucked. Really? After all the talks we had you can't say hello or check in? Is that hard? It appears that not much has changed around here, I thought. And I couldn't do it. I couldn't pray, and I couldn't sing. I just stood with my arms crossed and waited for it to be over. When it was over, I sat down in a chair and tried to pray silently to myself, to pray for help letting go, and forgiving... but didn't feel much of a release.

Throughout my week home I continued to crave healing, and I felt like being present at a service was an important step. So I went to the pre-Easter concert. I even went to the multi-church Easter Service at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater by myself. And I sat there, off to the side, and I watched everyone raise there hands and clap and smile and listened to them talk about Jesus and loving each other. And all I could think was...

All of these people are assholes. 

They tell you to come to church and find community, but then push you out of it after all you want is to go deeper after almost 8 years. They won't respond to text messages or emails or voicemails and they'll kick you off prayer team for trying to sing to yourself during a prayer meeting and causing an "interruption". They say they believe Jesus is Lord and everything is for Him but they don't seem to mind leaving millions upon millions of orphans uncared for and sick people un-visited and dehumanizing the homeless when Jesus said he'd judge people by how they took care of the "least of these" and loved each other. They seem to care more about drinking Starbucks and going to concerts than sponsoring one of our precious kids at the orphanage who wear one school uniform until it literally falls apart and they're holding their skirt up with safety pins. They preach community and love, but it's all fake. They post Instagrams telling people to "Come and See" but then don't have time to meet for coffee and get the reconciliation that is so desperately needed. I feel bad for the people who don't realize that it's fake yet. God, these people are assholes. 

I was still angry. In spite of my genuine desire and even *efforts* to reconcile and forgive, I couldn't seem to stop the pain welling up and turning into a righteous rage.

And then I heard words in my head that were not my own: "Yeah, they really are assholes. They're messes and screw ups and they're dragging My name through the dirt much of the time. They're pretty shit at loving. But guess what? You are, too." 

And there it is, isn't it? I'm an asshole. I'm totally an asshole. I was so busy being pissed at how these people singing to Jesus were hurting me and hurting others that I forgot how much of an asshole I am.

Let me be clear here: what I'm trying to say is different than the "the Church is broken because we're all broken and Jesus came for the sick, not the healthy". That's all absolutely true! But I think far too often I've seen it used as an excuse. There's a difference between hurting people and repenting and trying your best to walk in love and humility and using the above reasoning not to try to be better, to love better. To be honest, I feel like I experienced the latter with insincere apologies at the churches that I've attended, and that makes me sad.

BUT. But. I sure did need to swallow several spoonfuls of humility and graciousness. See, it's not hard for me to acknowledge that I'm deeply sinful and broken. While I feel like I could never do such a thing, the same potential to do horrible acts like abusing or killing people lies in me. It lies in each of us. It's terrifying and hard to accept, but it's true. There aren't "good" or "bad" people, just people who make good and bad choices. But for some reason, it's easier to accept that I have the potential for great evil than it was to accept that I have the same asshole-ish tendencies of the people who were hurting me. I would certainly never just not respond to a passionate, heartfelt email expressing hurt or seeking reconciliation, right?! I would certainly never avoid someone for being difficult! That's just straight-up UN-LOVING and UN-CHRISTIAN! Except that I have. I have done those things. I was allowing myself to get proud, as though I'm great at loving people who I might not particularly like. As though I'm great at acting out of love instead of hurt. (Spoiler: I'm not). I was so focused on how suck-y other people were being that I forgot to look inward and invite God in, and lift everything up. The people on leadership at my old church might have logs in their eyes, yes, but I've got a log in my own. Even if my hurt is justified, it's not something that I want to carry, so I think it would be best to focus on learning to love God and others better instead of being preoccupied with what I've experienced, or how other people are acting. I don't want to carry it with me anymore. And it might still be a painful process, but I think this is an important step for me. God can change hearts, and I cannot.

I think I'm better off repenting of my own sinful tendencies and asking the Lord to work with me and in me and make me more like the person I was created to be... to make me more like Love.

*A Couple Notes

I only expected this post to be read by my family and close friends who know my story pretty well, but it has spread beyond that. In light of this fact, I'd like to clarify a few things: first, some of my frustrations expressed here were with the church I called home for many years. Others are with the Church. For example, I do not think that my former church is particularly lacking in its concern for orphan care and community development, and I've actually seen them to great work in this area. But I think as a national and global Church, we're far too apathetic.

Also, I do not think that I attended a "bad church". If you haven't read my first blog post on this site and this topic interests you, I'd encourage you to check it out. As I state there, I had LOVED my church. Very, very much, for many, many years. That's what made feeling shut/pushed out so painful: I felt like it was a breakup, an ending of a very serious relationship that I desperately wanted to make work, while the other party didn't seem to care at all. I experienced many good things and love there, and that's what made the events of the last year hurt so much. If it hadn't been such a place of healing and joy for me for so long, I probably wouldn't have tried so hard to make it work and I would have left before much of the hurt happened. This post was intended to reflect my feelings in the midst of everything, and was an attempt to be very genuine and transparent with my process of learning more grace and healing. 

Also, I would like to say that there were a couple of individuals that did not fit that pattern that I felt from the majority of leadership at the church. In particular, my woman's small group leader and the lead pastor's wife were particularly kind and gracious with me, and showed themselves willing to walk through things with me and prayed with me for reconciliation. I cherish the love they showed me and I hold it in my heart with gratitude.