Church Hurt: Beyond Disappointed, Beyond Loved, Part Two
Editor’s Note: This week’s mini-series on the Grace and Truth Blog addresses the topic of church hurt. In our first article, Anna Mondal defines “church hurt” and provides words of comfort, counsel, and next steps for healing. In other contributions to the series, Darby Strickland shares how she and her counselees have walked through the pain, rejection, and accusations of fellow believers in ways that have led them closer to Christ, Nate Brooks discusses several key themes to stress with those whose pain isn’t going away, and Greg Gifford considers re-engaging in church after experiencing church hurt.
In Part One, we compared church hurt to medical malpractice: people are wrongfully wounded in a place where they expect to find healing. Church hurt is especially damaging because of its systematic nature: it’s not one person hurting another person, but rather a culture coming together to defend itself, even if that means attacking its own people. Those hurt by the church may face the added pain of being sinned against by people they trusted and loved, sometimes while God’s name is used to justify the harmful actions.[1]
How can victims of church hurt find renewal in Christ? In this blog, we’ll look at a few orienting realities for sufferers. These elements won’t happen in a specific order or timeline. But broadly speaking, victims need to experience: times of lament, rediscovery of Christ’s nature, spiritual and communal nourishment, and hope for a bigger story.
Recovering from church hurt is a long process. Holistic support should include conversations like pursuing justice, public exposure of abusive leaders, safely settling into a new church, ongoing counseling, allowing the Spirit to convict and comfort the sufferer in places of personal sin, repentance, forgiveness, etc.[2]
Grieve Godward
Church hurt isn’t something you simply get over. You can’t read a book, pen a lament, get six counseling sessions, and be cured. Go slow. Externalize what you’re feeling, even if it seems unsayable. God doesn’t ask you to grieve elegantly. He invites you to pour out your soul, however dismantled it feels, and He promises He’s listening (Ps. 62:8).
If you don’t have words, consider the lament psalms:
“Malicious witnesses…repay me evil for good, making me desolate. Yet when they were sick, my clothing was sackcloth…my prayer was genuine…But when I stumbled, they gathered in glee, they gathered against me…Lord, how long will you look on?” (Ps. 35:11-17 CSB).
“It is you [who insults me], a man who is my peer, my companion and good friend! We used to have close fellowship; we walked with the crowd into the house of God” (Ps. 55:12-14 CSB).
Music can be a beautiful way to express grief and plead for justice. Like poetry, music can be a secret skylight for our souls, giving a glimmer of hope in the dark. Consider these modern laments:
“When will Your kingdom come / And evil be undone?
When will the wicked kneel / And the abused be healed?
When will our sisters speak / With no more shame or fear?”[3]
“I need to know there is justice / That it will roll in abundance
And that You’re building a city / Where we arrive as immigrants
And You call us citizens / and You welcome us as children home.”[4]
Godward grieving might not feel safe or possible, however, if your concept of God has been polluted. Scripture may feel scary to re-approach if it’s been used to unjustly accuse, manipulate, or control you.[5] As you grieve, it will be important to (slowly) relearn and re-experience who God is. Only when we begin to trust Christ’s heart can we relax into His arms (Ps. 42-43; 131; Matt. 11:28-30).
Reframe and Re-experience God’s Character
Pain inflicted in the house of God by people who say they follow God will certainly impact a sufferer’s concept of God. How could it not? “If a ‘man of God’ is not honorable, does that mean God is not honorable?”[6]
But how does God respond to sufferers in Scripture? Recognize that you’ll probably need a wise, godly person to put skin on these theological realities (by being present, bearing witness, showing compassion, etc.). But in the meantime, as you search for an anchor in the chaos, here are three realities to (re)consider:
- God is both Supreme Power and Gentle Shepherd—you are protected and carried in Him (Isa. 40:10-11). He uses His authoritative exaltation to guard His little flock: “the same arm that rules in power is the arm that tenderly gathers up the lambs and carries them.”[7]
- Jesus is the Embodied Word—He shows you the Father’s heart (John 1:1, 14). He is God Incarnate, yet Brother and Friend (Matt. 12:48-50; John 15:15). He is approachable and will not turn His friends away. “Jesus used His power to bestow dignity…to influence, to invite, to welcome, to transform.”[8]
- The Holy Spirit is with you forever—you are never abandoned (John 14:15-17; 16:12-14). He guides you into truth, “whispering the promise [‘You are My child. And I love you.’] that [will] get rid of the poison and the terrible lie and the sickness in [your] hearts.”[9]
Find Joy in Belonging
It is Christ Who connects us to the Church, not our connection to our local church that connects us to Christ (Eph. 4:15-16; 5:22-33). Your church may have discarded you, but your Bridegroom never will. As you heal, choose joy and nourish your soul by practicing daily rhythms of worship. Pivot to Christ in moments of despair, anger, and fear:
“The Christian religion asks us to place our trust not in ideas, and certainly not in ideologies, but in God Who was vulnerable enough to become human and die, and Who desires to be present with us in our everyday circumstances.”[10]
What would it look like to connect with Jesus in everyday rhythms of ordinary life? Maybe it’s a few minutes of predawn music and meditation, or an hour of prayer and journaling in the afternoon, or a nighttime run where you cry and commune with Christ. Make space in your life to create new memories, new reminders of His mercies (Lam. 3:19-26). As His Beloved, you do belong (John 15).
As we abide in the True Vine, we naturally grow in love for His people (John 15:9-17; 1 John 4). But after living through church hurt, you may be skittish about rejoining Christian community. If you’ve been painfully severed from a local body, it’s tempting to believe you’re cut off from the universal Church. It’s easy to make all-or-nothing statements: “the church isn’t safe for me,” or, “I have no community.” But this isn’t sustainable—you’re a person intentionally designed for relationship. So how might you cultivate connection with Christ’s people?
Maybe you have a mentor you can meet with or an older couple you can regularly share meals with. Maybe there are kind, Christlike people who can be the hands and feet of Jesus to you in this time. This is a healthy practice even after you rejoin another local body. But in this season while you’re between churches or hurting too severely to go back to church, you can still experience rich relationships (2 Cor. 7:5-6).
The risen Christ chose to make Himself known in everyday ways: breaking bread, walking along the road, on the seashore grilling fish (Luke 24:13-35; John 21:4-12). These ordinary encounters suggest that Christ can find His people, scattered and afraid, and gather them to Himself. He can empower us to re-enter the cities and holy spaces with kingdom courage to be salt, light, and love (Matt. 5:11-16).
Tell Yourself a Bigger Story
Church hurt hurts. It’s suffering—and suffering has a way of both shrinking and consuming our vision of reality. When we are hurting, it’s hard to imagine a future beyond our pain. Emily Dickinson writes, “Pain has an element of blank; / it cannot recollect / When it began, or if there were / A day when it was not.”[11] Or, as the Psalmist writes: “darkness is my only friend (Ps. 88:18).”
But what if you expand your mind-frame just a little? Look upward, outward—what else is true? What if there is beauty waiting for you outside the window? What if there is music, and laughter, and wildflowers to be enjoyed today, right now, in the presence of the One who knows what you need (Matt. 6:26-34)?
What if the story doesn’t end with pain? What if there’s a bigger story, one that takes you into abundant life, and at last, Home? And after all the injustice and heartbreak, you can say: “This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now.”[12]
“I saw Holy Jerusalem, new-created, descending resplendent out of Heaven, as ready for God as a bride for her husband. I heard a voice thunder from the Throne: ‘Look!…[God is] making His home with men and women! They’re His people, He’s their God. He’ll wipe every tear from their eyes…[He’s] making everything new’” (Rev. 21:1-5, The Message).
Questions for Reflection
- What would it look like for you to direct your grief toward God?
- What Scripture can you cling to (even if it’s only one verse right now)?
[1] Church hurt is a broad topic, occurs on a spectrum, and most sufferers will require a highly individualized counseling approach. This blog is geared toward individuals who have been compelled to leave a church for its unrepentantly sinful and spiritually abusive system. It assumes the sufferers are true Christ-followers who sought counsel, wisdom, and as much reconciliation possible. This scenario won’t apply to every church hurt victim. Rather, I’m writing for the audience I’ve seen most often in the context of my counseling practice. See the list of recommended resources for more holistic information.
[2] In the case of a victimized congregant and an abusive leader/system, the Matthew 18 approach of private confrontation is not a viable option, or even a Scripturally faithful one. That text covers conflicts between peers, “brothers.” But there is an enormous power differential between a congregant (particularly a woman) and a (male) pastor. If an elder/pastor is unrepentantly sinning, the approach is public exposure (1 Tim. 5:20).
[3] Porter’s Gate, “Daughters of Zion,” Neighbor Songs, 2019. Also see Lament Songs and Justice Songs.
[4] Jon Guerra, “Citizens,” Keeper of Days, 2020. The album in general, and this song in particular, is a balm for hearts wearied by empty rituals and longing for Christ.
[5] Some victims of church hurt may wrestle with shame when in reality they have no responsibility in the church’s wrongdoing. They may need to work through this topic (what is actual sin and where were you wrongfully accused of sin?) with a good counselor.
[6] The author speaks here of the particular damage of clergy sexual abuse, but the aftermath can similarly apply to many kinds of clergy abuse. See Ruth Everhart, The metoo Reckoning: Facing the Church’s Complicity in Sexual Abuse and Misconduct (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2020), 157.
[7] Rebecca Davis, Untwisting Scriptures that were used to tie you up, gag you, and tangle your mind: Book 2 Patriarchy and Authority (Greenville, SC: Pennycress Publishing, 2021), 163.
[8] Diane Langberg, Redeeming Power: Understanding Authority and Abuse in the Church (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2020), 174, 177.
[9] Sally Lloyd-Jones, illus. by Jago, The Jesus Storybook Bible: Every story whispers His name (Grand Rapids, MI: Zonderkidz, 2007), 329.
[10] Kathleen Norris, The Quotidian Mysteries: Laundry, Liturgy, and Women’s Work (The Pauline Press, 1998), 77-78.
[11] Emily Dickinson, “The Mystery of Pain,” The Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson (Digireads.com Publishing, 2018), 15.
[12] C.S. Lewis, The Complete Chronicles of Narnia, The Last Battle (New York, NY: HarperCollins Publishers, 1998, orig. 1956), 520.