Disenfranchised sounds like too sterile a word to describe how I feel when talking about the loss of church community. But it’s the word that popped into my head. There has been more loss for me than just the church. We are empty-nesters now, my younger son moving out over a full year ago. Changing my focus from my adult kids to myself, my husband, and our household, and what that looks like in this season. So many losses of friendships, loss of trust, loss of myself, and who I am without all these props.

I feel like I’ve been stripped bare, and when I look around, ultimately all that’s left is just me and Jesus. I think a lot about “church,” how we “did” it, and what it meant. I ask if this is what church is really supposed to be, or if we have been acting out something that makes us feel good, holy, and pious. I don’t know.

I ask if anything I thought was true is true. And I always come back to Christ; rather, he comes back to me. I wonder if all my striving was in vain. Reading all the books, listening to countless hours of sermons, scrupulously examining my heart and motives and reasonings. Listening to the conversations and conferences of mere men. Taking their words as “biblical” truth. Their opinions.

I reflect on my church membership and how important it was for me to be a good church member. To devote my time and energy to the church for all (or most) of the gatherings. To invest in the people who were part of my church body. Then, to stand up for what we all claimed to believe, the Gospel and who Christ is, only to have people, friends, elders, and Pastors, turn their backs on us, on me. These people who I loved and thought loved me.

I was always thinking of the congregation and praying for them. I was giving gifts whenever and wherever I could (because I love to do it, I love any reason to give a gift). Concerned with their spiritual well-being, seemingly more than they were with their own. For what?! People that I considered, at many times, closer than some of my own family, didn’t care that we left. Didn’t want to know the reasons why. Of the handful I reached out to and told specifically why, only a couple kept in touch, were open to conversations, or even seemed to care. A couple more came around later (which I am thankful for), but we lost our whole support structure in a matter of a week.

We were called wolves by Elder 1, and later, he went on to call us slanderers, which was not true. Elder 2, with whom we had had extensive conversations, knew the truth and didn’t speak up for us. No one came to our defense, and it went on like that for over a year. Elder 2 eventually apologized, and I am thankful for that. Pastor 2 (from church 2) heard our whole story right after it happened and was only concerned that we were careful with how or if we shared it with others. He was concerned with us coming back to his church. He was concerned with numbers.

The week after we left, I saw pictures posted of a church event. Everyone is smiling and happy. Were we even there? Did anything we did matter to anyone? Did we matter to those who claimed to be our brothers and sisters in Christ? I still don’t know the answer to that. I just know that, not quite two years later, it still hurts immensely. I still haven’t found a new rhythm that feels complete.

I’ve asked God many times this summer where he’s at. He seems to be absent. But I know he’s here. I still trust him, believe in him, and hope in him. It just looks so different now that it makes me wonder about all the things I thought were so important before. If those things were important to God or just to other mere men?

I think about King Nebuchadnezzar’s dream of the great tree that is cut down to the stump and roots, wrapped in iron and bronze, and it feels familiar (in its imagery, not in its context). I feel like that stump with roots, cut down. Brought to the lowest point that I’ve been in Christ. And I’m reminded of Paul’s words:

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10 We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11 For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. 12 So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.” 2 Corinthians 4:7-12

Also:

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

And it gives me hope. That, although I make many choices in this life, some good and some bad, Christ has redeemed my life. I don’t know what the future holds and if we’ll ever find a “church” that is a safe community, but I can trust Christ even with my unknowns. And I do. Who else can I turn to? He has the words of life. John 6:68-69