Rejection in the church. It’s all too common.
You’ve seen the signs. Most churches have one. “All Welcome.”
Easier said than done.
Lucas Cranach Painting
A topic in a popular church forum today discusses inclusion—specifically that of the disabled in the life of a congregation. The author cites the profound sense of rejection experienced by members of a group home for the mentally challenged who were asked to not return. You know why — they were different and differences are unsettling. The Church loves neat and tidy.
Rejection by the Church is all too common. Frequently, the rejected have no voice. They must rely on an outside advocate. Fortunately for the members of that group home, they found an advocate who helped them find love inside the church’s walls.
Rejection isn’t a one-time incident. It stings forever.
The members of Redeemer have experienced rejection. Big time and long-term. The Lutheran Church locked us out, literally and figuratively. Having rejected us from Christian community, they continue attacks on our members.
The increasingly common scenario has become a process which, as Bishop Claire Burkat of the Southeastern Pennsylvania Synod of the ELCA attempts to justify, usually “goes smoothly.”
What makes this horrific process seem smooth? Well-orchestrated use of the age-old weapon of the Church — fear.
The process is designed to be as pain-free as possible for the perpetrators. The pain of the victims: there’s an app for that!—the closing worship service which even has an official liturgy.
Church officials gather in full clerical regalia as the emotions of the faithful are put on display. The swelling tones of the soon to be moth-balled organ drive the nails into the coffins of a faithful worshiping community. The doors are locked, remaining bank accounts secured, and no further thought is given to the people. Neat and tidy.
Most abandoned church members never find a new church. They are gone and forgotten. The elderly are left without the support of the church they served faithfully in more capable years. Newcomers are left to feel inadequate — like fools for buying into the welcoming message. The clergy return to their parishes to preach the message of love, forgetting that love is a verb.
It’s not OK, fellow Lutherans. Damage continues long after you walk away with the spoils.
- Relationship with the surrounding community is damaged.
- Relationship with the faithful is damaged.
- Families are damaged.
- Children are damaged.
- Youth, at a turning point in their lives, are abandoned by the church that had cradled and nurtured them.
- The disenfranchised (often major participants in community worship) are abandoned with little recourse.
- Faith is damaged.
- Economic and social damages extend beyond the community.
- Stewardship is damaged. Any member of a small congregation can wonder if their offerings will be confiscated.
- Individual Christians can wonder if their years of devotion had any value.
The process is a slap in Christ’s face.
We’ve listened to the excuses of the clergy as if the gospel they preach happens without effort—as if Christ had not died for them. Most laity seem unaware of what’s going on.
Redeemer can tell you how it feels to be rejected by the Church, to be vilified for our beliefs.
Faith makes us strong. Why do we act as if we are powerless?