This is a topic close to my heart. Maybe it's because I've felt like an outsider my whole life, but to me the message of belonging offered by Jesus is too good to be true, too difficult to pass up, and too compelling to ignore. I believe in a God who says,
"You belong to me."
And throughout my life, I've had powerful experiences of love, belonging and acceptance. I've also felt alone, ignored, rejected and depressed.
I've been coming to terms with never feeling fully accepted anywhere or anytime. That being a foreigner runs deep, deep.
So when people responded to "Why is Church Cliquey?" with "No, duh. Church is cliquey because people are cliquey. Deal with it"--
I could feel the anger rising.
For me (and others) there's the strong sense that this is not the way things should be. And this blog post is me saying that this is not the way things should be:
If I'm rejected everywhere else, I should be accepted at church.
If I'm bullied at school, I should be safe in my youth group.
If I feel alienated, lonely, excluded or isolated, I should find radical acceptance in the embrace of my brother, my sister.
If I feel singled out because of my race, gender, culture, nationality, family background or sexual orientation, I should feel like a whole person in the presence of God and his people.
I'm inspired by the insights of one of my friends, whose response I've excerpted below (with permission):
"The problem with church is that one of the major tenets of Christianity is that you are supposed to belong to the group. We're the Body of Christ, therefore we are bound together in some way. It is your 'family.'
"If co-workers reject me, so what, they're the 'world.' If non-Christians reject me, good, it means I am different. If Christians reject me, if I find that I don't belong to that group...where do I go?? I've set my back to the world, picked up my cross to follow Jesus, and am trying to join the others who've done that.
"So when I am in that church lobby with the hundred or so people I know and no one speaks to me or catches my eye or returns my desperate waves as I say goodbye to the air, I care about that rejection in a way that I don't care about when I'm getting coffee in the lunch room and two co-workers are ignoring me, or when the guys at Starbucks aren't saying hello. My faith is on the line. Part of the faith is that I belong. If I don't belong I'm not a real Christian.
"Another tenet of fitting in is wanting to look good. I think that is a big part of the Church--they want to attract people to it, so they showcase the edgy, relevant side of things. They don't want to be 'your mother's church' or even 'your mid-western church.' So the cool kids get center stage--they are the ones in the band, on the stage.
"But most people drawn to Jesus aren't all that together: we're the nerdy ones, the socially awkward ones, the ones that don't fit in with the world and have a hard time adjusting. We're the uncool, and we don't fit in at work, with our families, with the world at large. If we can't fit in at church, we're sunk."
That's the thing about Christianity--it's meant to be radically inclusive.
In Christ there is no Other--neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, popular nor nerdy, cool nor uncool, eastside nor westside, Bruins nor Trojans.
So what can we do if church feels cliquey?
In a city like LA, the most visible Other is the homeless man or woman. [Homeless people often make token appearances in screenplays, short stories, short films, etc. as either wise-beyond-their-social-status, comic relief, or tragic heroes. See also, the Magical Vagrant.] I believe churches (mine included) go out their way to love and care for the most vulnerable population in their midst, which is awesome.
But I think it's possible to look deeper.
First, we can admit that we as Christians seem to value exactly what the world values: good looks, fashion sense, youth, a "promising career," talent, fame, money, good production values, etc.
We can acknowledge that inequality exists in the world. We can acknowledge that racism exists (yes, still). We can acknowledge that sexism exists. We can acknowledge that homophobia exists. We can acknowledge that, yes, sometimes people are discriminated against because of systemic injustice and not because of anything they did wrong.
We can acknowledge that some people struggle with belonging more than others. We can acknowledge that race, gender, nationality, sexual orientation, etc. can influence the extent to which a person is accepted (or feels accepted).
We can stop pretending that when a person walks into a church the way that they look has nothing to do with how they are treated.
Sometimes (speaking as an outsider here), I just want acknowledgment of the reality that though we may all be equal in the eyes of God, we are not all equal in the eyes of that hiring manager, that apartment supervisor, that closed group of friends.
Second, we can ask questions:
Should I be uncomfortable if the church I go to is full of people who look exactly like me?
What do I do when I look around my small group and realize we're all educated 20-somethings with very similar entertainment career aspirations and theological viewpoints?
Who is the "Other" in my life? Who do I avoid?
Third, we can listen.
People feel like they don't belong for a variety of reasons. These reasons can be internal, external, personality-related, rooted in past experiences, etc.
Listen to those on the outside or those who feel like they're on the outside. Don't dismiss their thoughts or feelings about being excluded. Don't tell them that how they feel is wrong. That's not listening.
Don't say, "Maybe you should try harder to make friends." Don't chalk it up to, "Well, that's just the way it is." Don't give advice like, "You shouldn't care so much about what other people think. At least God accepts you." That's not listening.
Just listen. Maybe they have valid concerns about how the church is too white, too hipster, too middle-class. Maybe they have something to say about decades of oppression they feel the church has perpetuated or participated in.
Don't get defensive. That's not listening.
To recap:
Acknowledge.
Ask Questions.
Listen.
Remember what it felt like to be rejected and excluded back in fourth grade. We've all been there. We are all the Other. Who hasn't felt lonely, disconnected, alienated or alone? It's a universal human experience.
I think sometimes it makes us uncomfortable to hear people say that they feel like they don't belong. It's just not done. It's as if we're trying desperately to ward off those traumatic memories from middle school, as if "not belonging" were a contagious disease best quarantined as quickly as possible with denial and Jesus bandaids.
But what if it's okay.
If God is not intimidated by the depth of our need to belong, maybe we can acknowledge, ask, and listen. And offer just a small taste of the belonging and acceptance that is already ours.
Because we belong to God.
Next: Why is church cliquey? Part 3
Thank you so much for your wise words. I am struggling with exactly these same issues right now. We as a family have stopped going to church because we feel so excluded and lonely and rejected in our small southern town. What you said about the cool kids up on the stage resonated in particular with me.
ReplyDeleteI'm a woman, and I also feel excluded when the pastor uses all these sports analogies, or talks about how much he loves the Pittsburgh steelers. It feels like, in some way, churches build connections between people by emphasizing what they might have in common (we all love the ocean! we all have a boat! We all love the Pittsburgh steelers!) but when they do that, they build up some connections by excluding other people who don't love the ocean, aren't white, didn't grow up here, don't have a boat, etc.
We have been going to our church for nearly ten years and yet the pastor still doesn't know my name or my husband's name. We have a garden and every year we grow lots of vegetables and we always bring the pastor and his wife a big bag of homegrown produce every summer -- and yet he still doesn't know our names. During his sermons, though, he singles out other parisioners -- he talks about Landon's football game, and Doug is going on vacation -- and yet he doesn't even know our name.
We have "tried" about seven churches now and haven't found a single one in this small southern town that is accepting.
Our daughter attends a christian school where the girls are mean and nasty -- probably crueler than any set of public school girls. It's hard to see past that.