“The cracks were ricocheting and multiplying across my heart now, and when I turned to the Church for answers, I did not feel my questions were welcome.” – Jesus Feminist
How do you not stay bitter? How do you let go of the anger, the hurts, the soul-deep wounds Christians have inflicted?
Lean into the pain, she says.
And so I cried and tried to write and talked to friends and cried some more.
Tell us about your Jesus Feminist photo, she invited, and as you probably haven’t even thought about, I don’t have one. I loved watching the video and recognizing so many friends. I wished I would have fought through the fear and just made one.
But the reason I didn’t make a sign is because it would have looked like this:
As Nadia says,
“Everyone has their own middle school horror story. It’s a trial by fire, and the person we will become can usually be traced back to seventh grade.”
It was the 2 horrible years at a Lutheran school in Jr. High that initiated the pain, and many church years since confirming it, and I’ve realized my life has been shaped by the exclusivity of Christians.
As I have read my way out of that version of faith over the past 6.5 years, it has come with immense heartache and loneliness.
“To believe in the Crucifixion means nothing less than participating in it….and just as Christ was cut off from everything that grounded him, so our participation in Crucifixion will involve the same troubling, terrifying process.” – Insurrection
*****
When I started blogging almost 2 years ago, I didn’t know you made friends doing it. I just knew if I ever wanted to be a ‘real writer’, I needed a platform. And so I bought one. I named it. I didn’t realize it would become my identity.
Now I am split in two.
I have my ‘real’ self (who continues to feel less and less real everyday) who struggles and wanders the desert, and it’s just so much wilderness. It is this self who posts articles on Facebook (including Jesus Feminist promos, hence the not sharing a photo) and changes her profile picture to support equality, and says things at Bible study and challenges the premise of the study, and is constantly searching for someone, anyone to relate to on a soul level. It’s this self who gets told painful things and has her faith questioned and is ignored and shut out, and goes off to hide in the shadows of the internet.
But it is within these shadows that I’ve found life. It is within this underside of Christianity and the friendships formed that I‘ve found water in the desert.
So I have this tension between who I am and who I appear to be, knowing that if I appear honestly, it might go as poorly as all the other times I have tiptoed into authenticity.
I used to wonder how people could pass a wounded person lying on the ground, how the priest and Levite could cross the street to evade the pain.
But now I know.
How do we deal with our cynicism, our anger at those who pass by us on the other side of the road and yet still love them?
Inspiring people won’t shut up about tension and risk and vulnerability. But when you are the one bleeding on the side of the road, is it worth it? Is the pain and rejection worth the goal of lovelovelovelovelove?
And if everything is resurrected on that, then what does it mean to love the ones who wound? When my church experiences have been so hard and raw, and in some way feels like a thousand little deaths, what does resurrection look like?
To what extent is self-protection a wise decision, (boundaries!) but without moving into ‘fine, we will just ignore each other’ territory? Is following Jesus and loving others really supposed to be about isolating ourselves?
It’s amazing how much tension exists because of claiming identity. Claiming Jesus. Claiming feminism. Claiming the personal way of Jesus. Because that’s it, really. The people and forces that somehow intimidate me into hiding don’t actually believe in a personal Jesus, no matter what they say about a personal relationship.
“Identity is like the tip of a spool of thread, which when pulled, can unwind the whole thing.” –Pastrix
This leaving the evangelical church (for now) has felt like a death. Even though some of it has been systemic, ‘church business’, it’s still been personal. I feel like Kathleen Kelley. “But it was personal to me. It’s personal to a lot of people. And what’s so wrong with being personal, anyway?…Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal.”
There’s the tension and the wilderness for me: my identity. The inclusiveness of Jesus. And yet the supreme loneliness of trying to keep up a relationship with people who write me off for being a feminist or liberal or God knows what else they think of me. The tension of deciding how honest and vulnerable to be.
*****
This weekend I live-streamed the Simply Jesus Gathering, and after a week of pain, it was healing to hear people remind me of Jesus.
I was reminded that Jesus knew exclusivity. He wasn’t baptized in the temple, where not everyone was allowed. He was baptized in the river, which flows to everyone, welcomes anyone. His identity was beloved, even before any miracles. It was his identity and it is ours.
They said there is freedom in forgiveness. This is how humanity is meant to work. There is power in Jesus being who he said he is. And a challenge – what would life be like if you weren’t afraid? The Jesus you follow is followable and when you are with him you are free.
And then I listened to Kathy talk about restoring dignity. How can I believe in that for other people if I can’t believe it for myself? Jesus told the community to unbind Lazarus and we are to do that for each other. Am I hurting myself by clinging to bandages?
I also learned a new word– liminality. It’s a transition space, the disorientation between identity changes, or as the speaker said, it’s often the place where God works to take you from the exterior to the interior. Liminality. Yes, that fits.
*****
I have followed a Jesus who includes everyone, but have been taught to draw lines, isolate and reject anyone who is not like me. I have experienced the power of exclusivity. I don’t even think my story of church wounds would be welcome in the churches I have been in. Exclusivity creates isolation.
And now this inclusive Jesus says follow me. Follow me into a world of words and welcoming. Learning and affirming. A world of introvert thoughts in a very public way. Follow me into vulnerability.
The path of Jesus is one of death and resurrection.
Is living authentically choosing the way of death? Can I trust that resurrection and freedom will follow? I don’t know. The only thing I can cling to in this time of identity crisis is this:
The Jesus I follow is followable.
Linking up with Sarah to celebrate her gorgeous book, Jesus Feminist.
Caris, I felt you with us at The Simply Jesus Gathering this week, and I’m so glad you were nourished by Jesus as Kathy, Bart and others shared. Inclusive community is what we’re called to, and it’s not easy. I’m just so sorry there’s been so much excluding going on and that you’ve carried so much of that in your own history. I thought of what Jay share – freedom. I want more freedom for you, friend. Love sharing this journey with you…even via live stream!
“I also learned a new word– liminality. It’s a transition space, the disorientation between identity changes, or as the speaker said, it’s often the place where God works to take you from the exterior to the interior. Liminality.”
This describes the entire past two years for me. I need to hear more about this.
“I have followed a Jesus who includes everyone, but have been taught to draw lines, isolate and reject anyone who is not like me.”
This is so true. And how hard it is to reconcile what the church is supposed to be with the church that so many of us have experienced. Just know that you don’t walk this path alone…
“What does it mean to love the ones who wound? When my church experiences have been so hard and raw, and in some way feels like a thousand little deaths, what does resurrection look like?”
Such good questions. Isn’t it bizarre that we feel most wounded by an institution of healing, by representatives of the very faith that helps us recover? It’s some weird religious Inception.
this was so beautiful, caris, in so many ways. i am so glad it came up in my facebook feed and i took time to click on it while drinking my morning coffee. damn, i felt so vulnerable after sharing on friday and that is so not my normal venue or group. the voices in my head were very interesting and all roads lead back to my conservative christian roots. the voices weren’t new ones, they’ve been rattling in there for many years but i something that has sustained me is “well, it’s just the truth.” that’s all i am trying to learn to do–tell my truth. some people like it, some people hate it, but the truth is it’s my truth. but it can indeed feel so lonely in certain circles; i was like a desperate person to get back to my community yesterday and feel safe again.when i poured my cup of coffee this morning, i said to myself, literally, out loud “it’s just the truth.” my heart is with you from afar and so glad to know you out here…you are brave. this road is hard but oh goodness gracious it is the path to freedom. xoxoxo
O how I feel the weight of all this along with you, Caris. I too am just starting to merge the two versions of myself, the one who really believes things v the one who lets others wrongly assume what she believes. And you’re right, it is hard and it is personal and it does feel like a death. But it is also so internally freeing, especially when you know there are people on the other side of the internet walking the same path. 🙂 Thanks for your courageous honesty.
I love your vulnerability here and I can identify with all you share. I, too, posted a share of Sarah’s book cover, but no picture…just not yet wise. I am also interested in this concept of liminality. I, too, so often feel desperately lonely. But, I realize every time I read your words, those of the ones commenting before me, and those of so many more who are struggling toward freedom, I am not alone. You are helping me along this journey away from fear and control and toward the goodness and grace of the Kingdom. Thank you.
religious Inception. Yes! It baffles me.
The bit about liminality was so short. I wrote down what he said and then googled it. I don’t even remember why he mentioned it or what it was in connection with. Oh gosh, yes, having people with is so helpful in leaving fear. I’m glad (and sad) that this resonates. Makes me feel less alone.
We should have a funeral for our dead facades, haha.
yup :/ It’s hard when it feels like it’s built into the system of how church works.
Right? Isn’t that so perfect? It was probably a 30 second thing in the speech. I don’t even remember who said it. The wikipedia is pretty helpful. He started off by saying it’s when you realize ‘this isn’t working anymore’. YUP. That is such a perfect term – and it’s nice to realize that it’s normal to be in this in-between and I don’t need to hurry myself from one stage to the next.
Yeah I was crying at that part when Jay was sharing that. Oh my gosh. That was so so good. I’m reading a book by him right now, so that makes it even cooler to have heard his story.
you said something about how all stories should be welcomed at church, and that made me realize that if my story is largely about exclusion and church hurts…well that should be just as valid of a story as anything else. That was really freeing to realize that. Painful b/c I don’t want that to be part of my story. But yes. It’s real and true and part of me and if people don’t like it, well…fine, whatever.
This is incredible Caris. So beautifully written and so, very much so, relatable. Thank you for sharing this with us.
Thanks for your bravery, Caris. I love the deeper meaning of Jesus being baptized in the river, not the temple. What a strong image.
So much of this sounds so familiar to me, it’s staggering. What truth. Thank you for embracing the complexity and the shades of grey, Caris. Honoured to walk alongside of you in even small ways. This is brave and good.
Bravo, Caris. I can relate x infinity.
Yes, this word. And that wikipedia page. And this post in general. It’s nice to have a word/concept to sum up, and hard because that makes it a real thing. Ya know? This cocoon I have tried to pray and psyche myself out of, attempting to go back to church and make myself feel all the feelings. It’s not going away. Sadly, I find myself here due to fearful self-isolation. Had I voiced all of the questions, all of the fears, all of the changing views on things, perhaps I would have found myself among the rejected and wounded. But perhaps not. I kept so much of it in (aside from the occasional Bible study passionate outburst), and retreated to the books and the blogs. I am among people, beautiful people even, vulnerable in some areas, but not truly known. Suddenly in the last six months, I have lost the energy to keep it up. I don’t know how to be an evangelical anymore, it is this foreign language that I used to be fluent in. I know that I need to trust Jesus and jump off of this precipice. It’s the only way to truly follow him and die to this cynicism crap, to forgive myself for this fearful life I have been living, and end up truly back in community someday. I just have no. freaking. idea what the path to get there looks like. Or what I will look like. Wilderness indeed. Thanks for being among the many to provide a space.
So encouraging to hear that – I see your path and have hope I’ll end up there at some point. There was a quote in Insurrection that reminded me of you when I read it: “The one who commits themselves to the task of helping people really enter into doubt, unknowing, and ambiguity needs to be ten, twenty, even a hundred times better than those who sell certainty.” I’d put you in the hundred times better category <3
Thank you for sharing with so much honesty, Caris. Though I grew up in a progressive and inclusive church with an amazing female pastor, I shared many of your experiences when I joined a campus ministry in college that was exclusive and patriarchal and where I was told that I could not be a pastor because I’m a woman. It has taken a long time to rekindle my relationship with Jesus and get to know him as he was/is – an egalitarian and prophetic “feminist” who radically challenged the patriarchal system of his day. Gaining my voice after it has been suppressed for so long has been a long journey. What has helped me along the way is knowing I’m not alone and hearing the stories of others who courageously travel this difficult journey, as well. Thank you!
One of the hardest things I’ve ever done is leave the evangelical church I grew up in (since birth) and walk into an Episcopal church. This was after a year of agonizing research and soul-searching and finally asking myself if I REALLY believe what I was taught to believe. The answer was no. It just didn’t feel right. And what finally clicked in my head and made me able to speak out was the realization that I really didn’t need to please anyone but God, and He already knew who I was. There’s a saying, “speak your mind, even if your voice shakes” and believe me, mine did. At first. It gets easier, I promise. Thank you so much for your writings!
“We should have a funeral for our dead facades, haha”. No kidding. This made me LOL, toooooo funny. What a great write. One time heard wonderful pastoral type “Jesus was the first women liberator”. Love coming across your articles and reading them over and over. Kathleen Kelley quote was great. One time in area struggling with God, is yelled at him; if the dead religious church with ALL their guilt condemnation and criticism suppression of thinking and feeling then he should have created us as Robots. He created each and everyone of us for him and relationship and HE LOVES US even when we put on the boxing gloves and duke it out with him. He can handle anything you tell, vent, yell, scream, our anger, wrath, questions=all of it. Keep those thoughts coming our way. Hugs. Isn’t God/Jesus/Holy Spirit wonderful. Jesus is our Brother.
P.S. Worked @ Cemetery, so understand funerals and it’s a great missionary field as anything we do being wonderful bondslave.