“Ah!” he said. “I know what your problem is!” The way he said it made me want to storm out of the diner without finishing my hash browns. I didn’t have time for know-it-alls. However, I was curious to hear his diagnosis.
“You’re church-damaged,” he said.
I wanted to say he was wrong, that I was strong. I had endured my parents’ divorce and the years of legal fall-out that kept my family returning to court. But rather than protest, I just scraped up the rest of my hash browns and mumbled that he may have a point.
In the years leading up to that meeting and the years that followed, I had a hard time visiting any church. There may have been deeply flawed aspects of these churches, and they may not have been the right churches for me. However, the bigger issue during seven years of church avoidance was the toxic baggage I brought with me.
Lovely post. I’m fascinated how the wounds from the parent’s divorce were mentioned seemlessly with the church wounds.
In this conversation pastoral transparency becomes a function of the therapeutic need of the wounded. The pastor becomes a sort of medium by which the wounded can have courage to draw near to God for healing.
Others wish the pastor to be perfect as a medium for the possibility of their perfection.
Leadingchurch.com 