Finding Jesus After Church

It was hot yesterday, but we still enjoyed lunch on my back porch. My friend Lilah is usually cold. The warmth of the sun just lit up her smile. She and I used to sing together on our church’s worship team. Upon arriving for our Thursday night practices, I would go around opening the sanctuary windows. Just watching me made her button up her sweater. But we both loved to sing, alto and soprano, and we loved praising God together.

Only three people contacted me after Kevin and I recently resigned from our church; Lilah is the only one who kept in touch. She is bold and courageous. In these tempestuous days of COVID and Trump, there are many reasons believers are walking away from the Evangelical establishment. I harbor no hard feelings against those who let us go without a word. Most people are struggling just to live through the pandemic and make sense of this new world; at this point no one knows the right words to say. Life as we knew it has come undone.

Finding Jesus Through the Evangelical Family

Thirty-five years ago, in a seemingly simpler time, I was introduced to my first church family. Coming from a very small, non-religious, and isolated family of origin, I was simply gobsmacked by the love. Never in my life had strangers transformed into almost-relatives who cared what happened to me. For the first time I always had invitations to holiday dinners. People prayed for me. Women hugged me in the supermarket. Other moms shepherded me through raising my kids. Older believers offered wise counsel. We worshiped together, celebrated together, grieved together, prayed together, and shared our lives on a daily basis.

At this point in my life, I’ve been blessed to have been a part of several church families. In addition to community, these years have brought me into relationship with God. With no previous religious upbringing, I leapt wholeheartedly into Bible studies, learning everything I could about this Jesus of Nazareth. Ironically, knowing Him is what finally led me to leave. What used to be a spiritual home became a political bastion, espousing policies that run roughshod over our Savior’s teachings. My personal identity as a follower of Jesus Christ has never been stronger, but I’ve renounced my role as a family member in the Evangelical Church.

Finding Jesus Outside of the Evangelical Family

It’s strange, it’s odd, it’s disconcerting, it’s disconnecting, and it’s disorienting to be outside the sanctuary walls. The good thing is, I’m not alone out here. Out here is where I’m looking for my Lord, and out here is where I’m finding Him.

Jesus is hard at work through Red Letter Christians, whose “goal is simple: To take Jesus seriously by endeavoring to live out His radical, counter-cultural teachings as set forth in scripture, and especially embracing the lifestyle prescribed in the Sermon on the Mount.”¹

He’s ministering to the brokenhearted former Evangelicals through the Evolving Faith community. Their welcome told me:

“Here’s the good news: You’re not as alone as you think.

We’ve set a big rowdy table in the middle of the wilderness and together, we’re having a feast. We saved a spot for you. There’s bread and wine, stories and songs, wonder and curiosity, renewal and redemption, too. We can’t promise you resurrection but we can offer you companionship.”²

The Jesus-loving world outside the sanctuary doors is REALLY BIG. As simplistic as that sounds, it’s actually anything but. One of the simple things about Evangelicalism was knowing what to expect. Women were simply not permitted to preach. LBGQT folks might have been tolerated, but the idea of them being equal to the old white men who ruled the roost was simply laughable. The lists go on and on, from these big questions right down to acceptable attire, behavior, and political persuasion. We who protested were quietly tolerated, but just as quietly dismissed.

I should know. I was one.

So the good news is, we who stand up to the Religious Right political machine are not alone. The sad news is that I miss the people who make up their ranks.

I miss singing with the worship team. I miss potluck dinners. I miss the Sunday morning hugs and supermarket conversations. I miss being on the prayer team and interceding on behalf of those I love. I miss communion and reading the Sunday bulletin and rejoicing with those who rejoice and mourning with those who mourn. I miss little old ladies who would say, “how are ya, honey?” and old men who always forgot my name. I miss the smell of Sunday School classrooms (except for the middle school aroma of BO). I miss mediocre coffee and unhealthy doughnuts. In fairness, I do not miss business meetings.

I know Jesus is still in those places, at least some of them. I just can’t be a part of a mindset that supports Donald Trump while dismissing “the least of these.” So I’m out here on the fringes of Christianity, trying to make sense of it all while grieving my loss and letting go of my anger.

And every once in a while, Jesus stops by for lunch on my back porch in the guise of my friend Lilah. She still goes to church, and she still loves me.

Just like Jesus.

1 Taken from RedLetterChristians.org website

2 Taken from EvolvingFaith.com website