I’m a follower of Jesus, but not because of you.
You see, I grew up within your four walls. My family never missed a Sunday. I wore the long dresses and never cut my hair. I made sure to always smile and never complain. I stayed away from outsiders. I sheltered myself from any hint of the world.
But by the time I reached adulthood — drowning under the crushing weight of the fear-based teaching you placed upon me — I realized that I didn’t know who Jesus was. You see, you spent 25 years telling me how to act like a Christian, but you never taught me about Jesus.
You taught me that only REAL Christians practiced courtship and saved their first kiss for marriage.
Only REAL Christians wore head coverings and made sure their knees and shoulders were never exposed.
Only REAL Christians avoided rock music and tattoos.
Only REAL Christians read their Bible every single day and handed out Gospel tracts three times a week.
Only REAL Christians never get divorced.
You taught me all about God’s wrath — how if I stepped a toe out of line He would be quick to punish me. Severe illness, rape, financial ruin…
And now, years later after trying and then failing to follow all your rules almost lead me to losing my faith entirely, I’m hearing countess others asking the same questions I once wrestled with.
Why are our marriages failing, despite practicing “fail-proof” courtship?
Why are one-in-four of us sexually abused, despite following your modesty message?
Why do you continue to protect the abusers in our lives, while shunning us who dare bring evil actions out to light?
Why are we still plagued with chronic illness despite saying countless prayers?
Why do we often experience far less love in the body of Christ than in the non-believing community around us?
Your once-faithful members are crying out.
“What about us?” “What now?”
You taught us legalistic rules instead of the Gospel.
You taught us bondage instead of freedom.
You sheltered us from the very world Jesus commands His followers to go out into.
By drilling fear into our minds you didn’t point us to Jesus.
No.
The tragedy, dear Church, is not that people are leaving the Church in droves.
The real tragedy is that by starving your people of the true message of the Gospel, you have nearly-fatality wounded your once most devoted followers, and then left us with no one to turn to, because we’re told Jesus doesn’t want to see our mess.
The true Gospel message must include broken people, but you were too concerned about appearances to allow people to be broken.
You were too concerned about protecting wolves that you forgot about defending your sheep.
But thankfully, even when you disowned us, Jesus did not.
Even when you shunned me, Jesus did not.
When you told me that, because of my history of sexual abuse, I was a chewed up piece of gum and no man would want me, Jesus told me that I my worth was not defined by my sexual history.
When you told me that my chronic illness was a result of not forgiving my abuser, Jesus comforted me, and told me that my body having a natural reaction to abuse was not a sin.
When you told me that I was the cause of a man’s lust, Jesus told me that I wasn’t responsible for someone else’s choices.
When you told me that depression was evidence of lack of faith, Jesus pulled me in tighter, and assured me that nothing could separate me from His love.
When you told me that “God hates divorce”, Jesus told me that He hates the abuse that forces victims to flee to safety even more.
When you told me that we need to protect the name of Christianity by burying scandals, Jesus told me that He can defend His own name and to expose any darkness.
When you told me to “stay sweet”, Jesus told me to start flipping tables.
So you see, Church, you may have failed me, but Jesus didn’t.
You may have rejected me when I started to ask questions, but Jesus never let me go.
So I ask you, Church, will you turn away from your white-washed piety?
Are you willing to cast out the wolves in your pews and pulpits that you’ve given sanctuary to, and offer justice and mercy toward survivors?
Are you willing to take a stand for the oppressed, for the vulnerable, and for the abused?
Are you willing to see the disabled in your community as equal images bearers of Christ?
Are you willing to leave behind the chains of legalism and preach the radical freedom of the resurrected Christ?
Are you willing to end the deception of flashy and empty promises and instead comfort people in the midst of their raw grief and pain?
Are you willing to start following Jesus?
Because until you are willing, you will find more and more of your pews empty.
Not because your parishioners left the faith.
But because they went looking for hope outside of your walls — and finally found Jesus.
~ Emily Elizabeth Anderson