“There’s no such thing as a perfect church. Even if there were, it wouldn’t be perfect once you or I walked in the doors.”
The people who express this sentiment fall into two camps. The first camp is those who ask people to lower their expectations. “We’re all sinners,” they say. That’s true, but Scripture makes it crystal clear that sinners who are leaders do not get a pass. The bar is rightly higher, because the damage a toxic leader can affect so many lives, and echo in those lives for generations.
The second camp is made up of those who want to excuse or cover for bad behavior on the part of a leader. These enablers value their access to power or the comfort of their status quo far more than they fear God or love their vulnerable neighbors.
Every time I read another story of a fallen leader (so far this week, there were 3 stories that crossed my newsfeed including this, this, and this), I know there are dozens more that either aren’t getting press or the perpetrators haven’t been caught. I’ve heard variations of the “no perfect church” bit for years. I first encountered it from a few well-meaning individuals as I struggled to process my own experience of spiritual abuse. I then kept running into it in the following years, which were marked by a long, depressing series of encounters with leaders who engaged in sexual misconduct and enablers who covered for them in almost every church of which we were a part. As a result, I have reached the end of my tether with people who attempt to shame or silence people with church hurt by spinning the tale of “No such thing as a perfect church”.
While those words contain truth, as most fairy tales do, they do not tell the whole story. Too often, those words weaponize shame, and communicate to those who’ve doubted, struggled, or been wounded by a local congregation that they are the ones with the problem. Though I believe many well-meaning people bust out the “No such thing as a perfect church” sentiment hoping to bring comfort, the fact is that “No perfect church” almost always functions as a painful bit of spiritual bypassing.
Jesus showed and told what his Kingdom looked like – a community characterized by love of God that is evidenced in obedience to him, humility, hospitality, generosity, and love of neighbor even when that neighbor is an unlovable enemy. The New Testament never promises a perfect church here on earth, nor does it portray one. What it does offer us is a picture of various imperfect local congregations being nurtured toward health and maturity.
Telling someone the fairy tale that there is no such thing as a perfect church in hopes that it will somehow lead them to a “happily ever after” can be a way of easing your own discomfort with their uncomfortable struggle. Some reading these words may rightly note that sometimes, the wounded person contributed to the church dysfunction. I am certain that shaming that person won’t usher in perspective, repentance, and healing for which they’re longing.
In the parable of the Good Samaritan, which is truer than a fairy tale, we hearers tend to focus on the neglect and arrogance of the priest and the Levite, and we honor the sacrificial care of the spiritual EMT in this situation, the Good Samaritan. I’ve been contemplating the unglamorous but necessary role of the innkeeper, who is a secondary character in the parable. He was tasked with caring for the broken body of the victim, and his ministry is a model for each one of us who is caring for a person wounded by or disenfranchised from the church. Can you imagine if the innkeeper harangued the victim with sentiments like, “There’s no such thing as a perfect journey. These things happen. Sorry it happened to you, dude” or “You know, you brought this on yourself, traveling alone on that dangerous road. You should know better.”
We have the privilege of assisting the healing work of the Great Physician by carrying a wounded person to safety or caring for their wounds in the aftermath. I believe the healing balm most of us who’ve been hurt by the church need most (and often, for far longer than it might first appear) is to have someone simply listen to our story without trying to push a quack, fairy tale cure for our very real ills.
What do you think? If you’ve been wounded by a congregation or a church leader, what kinds of things were most helpful to you in the aftermath?
Some of those who’ve had an advance peek at the book to which Leslie is referring in the quote above have said that Downsizing: Letting Go of Evangelicalism’s Nonessentials has given meaningful context to the good, the bad, the hurtful, and even the hopeful they’ve experienced in their particular branch of the wild tangle that is late-stage Evangelicalism. Maybe you’re an innkeeper. Maybe you’re the patient in need of healing. This book was written for you.
Downsizing releases August 19th. You can use one of the buttons below to preorder your copy so you’ll get it hot off the press that day! :
This Bible is for women, but it is not a doilies-and-teacups project, thanks be to God.
Check out the cover of this excerpt that contains the Gospels. Not a Pepto-Bismol pink daisy in sight. (If you’ve ever shopped for a Bible for a female friend, you know what I’m talking about.)
The Message, Eugene Peterson’s rich and earthy paraphrase of the Bible, is the foundation for this brand new women’s devotional Bible. The full text will be released later this summer. The editorial team explained the why behind this project, noting,
…the women of the Bible deserve space for their stories to rise to the surface and catch our attention–and women reading the Bible deserve to be better equipped to study it than we historically have been.
We envisioned devotional content that went deep, illuminating and extrapolating the texts, interspersed alongside the accessible words of The Message.
Dozens of smart, faithful women have contributed historical background and devotional insights to this project. I’m honored to be among them! I have two copies of this excerpt to give away to the first two people who respond to this offer - click here to send me your name and your U.S. mailing address.
Grateful for you, friend.
Photo by Ben Rosett on Unsplash
Great essay, Michelle. I so appreciate learning about the term “spiritual bypassing” which you referenced in this post I think we are so often hurt by others not being honest by their own dark parts of life when we only see their shiny parts, and we think we have emulate that ourselves. When you have a whole church full of people practicing a fake spirituality is it crazy making when deep inside we know we can’t live up to what we think others are living up too. Then, when the belittle us or shame us or try to make us feel less than, it is very damaging to our inner beings.
I hear this phrase you wrote about so often. There really is no good comeback that I have been able to come up with. I just usually say, “I’m not looking for perfection in this life. Are you?" Jesus never taught perfection is the goal, but a whole lot of cults do.
Recently I reconnected with an older (than me!) couple who had wisely left our congregation some months before the new leadership had kicked me out. When I told them what happened (right down to the criminal trespass warning served by a cop after I went to the church’s holiday fair 2yrs later) she couldn’t stop patting and hugging me and he just kept sputtering, “I never heard of such a thing!” That’s the most kind and supportive experience I’ve had since that involuntary separation.