This summer I found myself sitting in a folding chair in the Arkansas heat chatting with someone who had once gone to church but no longer did. We were both helping with a camp for LGBTQIA+ youth hosted by our congregation.
We had spent a good amount of time discussing the basic fundamentalism and strictness endemic to so much of the Christian church in our region. Her experience of this conservative kind of church had driven her away… and yet here she sat at the back of a church property discussing religion with the pastor.
At one point she said, “I hear what you are saying. Like literally, I can hear the sounds coming out of your mouth, and I can see how your church lives its faith, but it’s like I can’t process what I’m hearing.”
This basic “I hear what you’re saying but I can’t hear what you’re saying” is the situation in which we find ourselves.
It’s the situation.
Another example: I’m increasingly surrounded by a network of Christians who experienced calls to ministry. These same folks were then rejected by the communities where they heard that call.
The same story comes out in each telling. Those churches couldn’t imagine a place for a non-binary person to serve as pastor or a queer person to serve as a worship leader.
Imagine what it’s like to have heard a call, felt in your heart that you were to commit your life to Christian service in the church, and then experience the rejection of that community because of your gender or sexual orientation.
What we have in our communities are hundreds and thousands and millions of people who were raised in bigoted, conservative communities. Then, through a process of prayer and discernment and hardship they came to the realization, “You know what, I don’t have to live in the midst of that. And your threats of hell or whatever, they can’t control me.”
And they left.
In the meantime, those of us who believe Jesus Christ was never into all that bigoted conservatism anyway and actually has always been on the side of the subaltern, the rejected, the queer, we get to live in the space where those most likely to be drawn to our communities are also incredibly cautious, distrustful, hesitant.
Progressives don’t go to church because a lot of Christians are bigots. This makes building progressive church really complicated.
In this sense the abuser has an impact on the actions of those who have been traumatized even long after the abuse occurred.
At the heart of this dynamic is a trauma response. Any kind of trauma impacts the worldview of those who experience it, making the world a place that cannot be trusted. Religious trauma is an insidious kind of trauma because it is indirect, not as drastic or dramatic as trauma related to violence, but rather traumatizing by impacting us at the level of attachment. Religious trauma is not extreme in the way going through war is extreme, but it traumatizes nevertheless, by affecting the way the person who is traumatized understands the world and their relationship to it. Religious trauma wounds by compromise meaning-making.
Those who do find their way back into our sanctuary for Sunday worship often report experiences related to this trauma. Sometimes there is a certain level of disassociation.
Other times there is a more basic emotional stun that sets in: can this be? How can this be?
One of the kinder responses we get from inquirers or those connected to our church goes essentially, “Thanks for being there. Thanks for ‘holding space’ for us.”
That concept of “holding space,” it’s an interesting one. By it we typically mean committing to being present, without judgment, just to listen.
But churches like ours hear it from people who are unlikely to, or rarely, actually spend time in the same space with us, in particular during our primary gathering.
So what does this “holding space” mean? Can “holding space” include presence-in-absence?
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So consider this with me. There’s this moment in the Christian liturgy, it’s part of what we say during the Lord’s Supper (the part of the service when we share bread and and the fruit of the vine as the body and blood of Christ). The person presiding at that meal says, in part:
Therefore with angels and archangels,
and with all the company of heaven,
we proclaim your great and glorious name,
for ever praising you…
In other words in the Christian imagination the vision of worship always includes the idea that there are far more “present” in worship than who we can see. At the very least there are angels and archangels and the whole company of heaven.
If we already entertain the idea that the angels and archangels are present in worship, might we also entertain the idea that those who are thankful for the ways we “hold space” for them are also present? Even if they never come?
I don’t mean this to sound like Karl Rahner’s notion of anonymous Christians, so I figure there would need to be some kind of active consent involved. Perhaps we need a way for people to identify with the church without being there. I don’t know what that would look like in practice but it does make me curious.
At the very least we need to remain aware that healing from the kind of trauma inflicted on so many by some of the bizarre forms of conservative Christianity that dominate our national life will take time, perhaps generations. Those of us attempting to hold space for healing are also going to need to recognize that a) we’re never doing it right and will ourselves get some things wrong, and b) inasmuch as we are doing it right whatever it is right that we are doing will not have an instantaneous effect.
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Now a final word to three different groups of people. I hope these short lists may be helpful for those who want to take action.
For those who attend progressive church:
If you’re doing it right, especially if you’re a progressive church located in regions of the country that are religious (like the South), be aware that perhaps a majority of those visiting your church may be emerging from contexts of religious trauma. And a lot of them are young.
I can’t under-state how important it is to offer a word of invitation, to promise to sit with and walk with people, to be that personal relationship that instantiates the “holding space” the presence of a progressive church has signified. This may sound like the old evangelical thing of “invite people to church” and maybe it is that but sometimes the same action can mean something completely new in a new context.
We’re going through a major religious re-alignment right now. You staying committed and present and regular will be a tremendous gift. There’s also no guarantee it will be easy.
For those who don’t go to church:
Don’t let the bastards get you down. Many find that returning to progressive church after leaving fundamentalist spaces is a part of their healing journey. Free yourself to make a decision about how you will connect based on what you want to do and who you want to be, not only in response to the way the faith has been abused.
There are groups with which you can connect. Increasingly there are wonderful religious trauma support groups and other conversations happening.
If you’re part of that group of folks who have connected to a progressive church but are struggling to be regular in your worship life and participation, aren’t sure how to build the new habits of connection, help those of us who lead such churches to understand better what the shape of ‘I’ve connected but am not present yet’ might be, and how to navigate it together. We’re all ears
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For those who go to bigoted churches:
If you are personally progressive but are still attending a bigoted conservative church and contributing to it out of force of habit or to maintain social status, we see you.
Ask yourself which is more important to you, bringing an end to harm or your own comfort?
If you don’t want to leave, the way of integrity is to invest energy and risk your own comfort in order to be the change you wish to see in the world.
There are churches around that seek grace and mercy for the "outcasts, marginalized, and victims of prejudice" in our country -- and do it in the name of Jesus. I don't believe that is exclusively political or of this world as opposed to heaven. Some label them "progressive" or "liberal". I would call them "faithful to their calling", or maybe "prophetic and honorable". It's possible to have one foot in this world and one foot in the KoG. That line of understanding is often called "realized eschatology" by theologians. I' convinced that's what the Bible teaches: We pray that the KoG come on earth as it is in heaven as we go about our lives aligned with God's good and gracious will. Best I can tell, your church does that, Clint.
In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. The heaven is the spiritual realm while the earth is the physical realm. In communion we are all part of the company of heaven. Stop looking for a “progressive” church that is a political term looking at the physiical not the spiritual. Look for a loving church any church may have individuals who are offensive consider the church’s entire ministry. Finally the church should be a blessing to its members but at the same time members should be a blessing to its church. Ask can my membershiip be a blessing to the church? Jesus was criticized for His tolerance of others. Can we really expect it to be better for us? Follow out Savior’s example . God bless!