what it’s like to…slip off the slope

* this is part of a recent series called “what it’s like…”, interviews with people in all kinds of circumstances sharing what it feels like.  you can see the other posts so far here.  

my guess is that a lot of you reading here have been told in some way, shape or form, that you might be treading dangerous ground because of your changing faith, that you are on a “slippery slope” and had better be careful.  i know many people who are in the midst of changing faith.  it’s scary. it’s weird.  it’s confusing.  and it’s also very, very freeing.  i always say that i slipped off the slope and found the most solid ground i’ve ever been on.  at the same time, the slipping is freaky. i met david hayward, also known as the naked pastor, when i first started blogging and we’ve stayed connected ever since.  his cartoons make me laugh almost every day.  he is a prophetic voice out here in blogland and also knows what it feels like to lose so much of what he once held dear when it comes to a structured & clearly defined faith system.  listen in to what this wild & crazy journey of shifting faith has felt like for him.

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describe a little bit about you & your faith experience & how you metaphorically “slipped off the slope” from conservative christianity?

I was baptized Anglican as a baby but we pretty much went to conservative churches as I grew up. In my teens we became committed members of a Baptist church and then after a few years switched to Pentecostal. Being a part of youth group was a huge thing for me. I then went to a Pentecostal bible college then to Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary and finally ended up being ordained into the Presbyterian Church in Canada in 1987. I served the Presbyterian Church for many years, but then we switched to Vineyard in 1995. I planted several independent churches starting in 2002 and and in 2010, after years of wriggling under the pressure to behave and conform, I finally left the ministry and the church. 

I’ve always struggled theologically with conservative Christianity, but that’s the culture I’ve always found myself in. I think it was because I loved charismatic worship and prophetic stuff and all that, but I loved deep theology at the same time. My experience is that it was either/or: you could be theologically liberal but not charismatic, or you could be charismatic but not theologically liberal. 

As my blog nakedpastor gained an audience and my thoughts were obviously starting to leak out to the public, it became more and more of an issue with my church as well as with those I was accountable to. It finally came to a head one night in a meeting when I suddenly realized that the church and I were no longer compatible. Within a couple of weeks I was gone.

how would you describe where you are at right now in your faith?

I am a Christian, but I would say that the same way I would say I’m a Canadian. It is so much of my heritage and DNA that I would personally feel foolish denying it. And I feel no compulsion to reject my Christian heritage. I still think theologically. My intellectual framework is Christian. But my mind has obviously exploded the confining categories. I said recently that my home is in Christianity but I have cottages everywhere.

It can’t really be explained logically, can it? But it can be known and experienced. I hope my z-theory that I am writing will articulate this for people 

it’s tough to be a  pastor without all the answers.  what has it been like for you to lose the comforts of a church to lead and a doctrine to follow?

The comforts that came with the church came with a cost. I compare it to the delicious food the farmer provided for the rabbits in Watership Down. But the deal was that every once in a while he could kill a rabbit for food. Often being a part of community comes with incredible benefits. That is one of the marvelous strengths of Christianity and the church: fellowship. Unfortunately it often comes at a price, and that is your intellectual freedom, your individuality, and your uniqueness. It also often means hiding huge parts of yourself in order to belong. Your right to ask questions, even as pastor, should never be surrendered. Never!

Doctrinally, I was never a follower. I mean, there is doctrine I love and appreciate and respect. I am deeply indebted to the Reformed tradition and theology. It was a revolutionary time in my life. But I also love mystical theology, liberation theology, and so on. Mix that all in with an appreciation for Buddhism, philosophy and other schools of thought and you’re making yourself into someone who will have difficulty conforming or fitting into any pattern.

what do you know now, a few years into these big shifts, that you wish you had known when you started?

For some reason, I have a sense that my life has been directed. I have this powerful feeling that all things have come my way at their proper time and I’ve come to where I am at the right speed. If I knew then what I know now… who knows… I probably would have been a lot more arrogant or disrespectful. I might have put a lot of things at risk. I might not have been able to hold my family together. Who knows? 

I do think that I could have been a lot more patient, gracious and loving with all people. That’s something I’ve learned is most important. I mean… I knew that before, but only intellectually. It hadn’t sunk into the roots of who I am like it has now. 

I would like to say though that these big shifts I’ve gone through were far more traumatic than I anticipated. There were no warnings signs out there. There was a sudden convergence of all kinds of factors… empty nest, bankruptcy, job loss, unemployment, loss of friends, losing the church, mid-life… you name it… that created a never before seen kind of accident where I nearly lost everything. Fortunately I found a great counselor who helped me maneuver through all that chaos. And Lisa, my wife, is absolutely amazing.

what are some of the things people did or said to you over these past years that hurt?

I think the thing that has hurt the most is the rejection I’ve experienced by the church. Of course, people will say, “Well, you’re the one who left!” And that’s true. But we left with the understanding that we would reunite with the community and provide support.

Some people had no problem telling me I was a lousy pastor, not doing a good job, was this my true calling, that I needed to quit and find other work, etc. It was painful.

And my blog draws fire. I get hate mail every day, criticisms, judgments, condemnations. What’s weird to me is that I’m passionate about the church and Christianity. I love being in the game. But many Christians see me as an enemy and either dismiss me, reject me, or worse, pity me.

what are some of the things people did or said to you that have been balm to your soul?

Thanks for this question because it is a reminder that even though I ruffle many feathers, I also smooth some. There are plenty of people I help. My cartoons say things some people need to hear or see. I can cheer people up, get them thinking, help them make some necessary changes in their lives, and link them up with other like-minded people. I get thanked every day. And it does me a lot of good to know when I have really assisted someone in their spiritual journey.

My new venture, http://davidhayward.ca is providing a trusted and trusting community for me. Incredible people are gathering there, and it’s providing something I’ve really needed. It is providing me with a lot of happiness, fellowship and food for thought. It’s marvelous! I really look forward to meeting more people there. I invite your readers!

what are some of things you’ve cried out to God over this process?

When we were in the church we had such a strong sense of destiny for ourselves personally and for the church. We stuck with the church through a horrendous church split in 1997 as well as a perpetual onslaught of disrespect and lack of support from our neighboring churches and even our denomination itself that lasted years. There was some support but little. Sometimes it felt like a long erosion, a slow steady leak in the bottom of the pail. But we hung in there over the long haul because we had a strong sense that the fulfillment of all those promises was just around the corner. That corner never came. To this day I wonder what all that was about. Why? Why did we endure? For what? Did I give up? And if I did, did I give up too early? Were we just on the edge of the Promised Land?

When I was in the church I was in a religious culture that emphasized hearing from God. Hearing from God was an every day occurrence, several times a day! During the last year or so I started going through a rather traumatic spiritual transformation initiated by a dream. All my searching, theological anguish and intellectual struggle came to rest. It’s not that I don’t think about these things anymore, but the anxiety suddenly dissipated. This transformation played a key role in me finally leaving the ministry and the church. It’s been over two years now, and my mind is very restful. I am at peace. I no longer see prayer as incidents but as life. I used to see prayer like taking a breath, whereas now it is like breathing. My days and life are permeated with a sense of Presence and Peace. I go through moments, but I always come back to this place of a Nothingness that is full of Benediction.

what advice to have for the many people who are shifting, too, and feel really disoriented? 

First of all, I think it is very important to realize that spiritual evolution is not only natural, but healthy and necessary. I mean, even our biblical heroes went through very dramatic and traumatic spiritual changes. Shouldn’t we at least expect the same. So, as one of my friends told me, “Don’t sweat the small stuff. Everything’s small stuff.” Spiritual transition is normal and healthy. If you have found a place or can find a place that gives room for this, then awesome! If not, then you have to find a way to do this anyway. You must be transformed! You know this. If there’s community to support this transition, then great. If not, then you must anyway. 

In saying that, though, it is also very helpful to find a mentor or counselor or coach who can cheer you through your transition. I know it helped me. In fact, it was indispensable. Find someone who believes in you and can help you through probably one of the most difficult changes in your life.

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thanks, david, for your ongoing honesty & vulnerability.  you have helped so many others over the past chunk of years by sharing your story through words and art. if any of you are interested in a safe, supportive, and caring place to talk about these shifts, check out http://davidhayward.ca.  it’s an awesome community of others who are finding their way, slowly, surely, in all kinds of wild and beautiful ways.  i’d love to hear what any of these thoughts stirred up in you today.

what it’s like…to get kicked out of church

today is the first post in a series of posts i’ll share over the next month or so called “what it’s like…”  i am grateful for the many brave and honest friends who are journeying through all kinds of tricky places in their lives, spiritually, emotionally, practically. one of my #1 most favorite songs is what it’s’ like by everclear (warning: bad language). we can never know what it’s like to walk in another man’s shoes. but we can become people of compassion who try to understand what it’s like.  and we can also find great comfort in knowing there are others who share some of our same feelings.  when i first started getting honest about my past i can’t explain the relief i felt when i finally met some other women who understood some of my feelings in ways others couldn’t.  thanks for honoring these stories with kindness and respect.  if you want to read some other past blog interviews, too, i have several other series from a few years ago–a view from the margins, out of the darkness, and signs of hope.

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this first one for what it’s like  is from my friend janell* (all of the names have been changed) and is a story near and dear to my heart.  a faithful follower of Jesus for years, she was kicked out of church and is finding freedom and hope in all kinds of new ways.  here’s what it’s been like for her.  my guess is some of you can relate.

describe a little bit about your background, faith experience, and what lead up to the “beginning of the end” when it came to church.

I began to follow Christ in earnest as a 12 year old girl.  Eventually I found my way to “Bible-believing churches” and became everything a stereotypical “good church lady” would be–a team player and woman who knew her place, and teaching women while carefully not appearing to know more than the pastor/leaders.  Our children were raised in a very Christian bubble as well.   In recent years, I had become a little edgy or restless, wondering if what we were doing “as the church” looked much like Jesus.

what did the end look like for you?

The end was dramatic and traumatic. A new policy was launched, and “feedback welcomed.” We saw the policy as mistreating people we loved, and we stated our objections strongly.   I naively believed my objections would be considered, since I was addressing brothers in Christ, friends, and long-time partners in ministry.

They responded from a strong power position, saying they would not answer us and that we were in spiritual danger for having criticized them. As we pursued communication and reconciliation, we were increasingly labeled as divisive and rebellious. Then our membership was removed through a phone call saying we had been “taken captive by Satan to do his will.” They followed up with a letter to all the membership calling us “false teachers,” and “savage wolves,” and saying that we were now to be “handed over to Satan to be taught not to blaspheme.” This was all done “in the name of God.”

it’s all so traumatic! what are some of the raw feelings you experienced during this season?

I had every feeling you would expect in a person just released from slavery, or any other refugee who is displaced.  I still alternate between “this is the worst thing that ever happened to me” and “this is the best thing that ever happened to me.”  There was relief and release to be out of something so painful and dysfunctional.  There was also a great sense of disorientation, being off-balance without solid footing; the loss of identity and purpose felt like a black hole.  Despair is one of the best descriptors.  There was devastation from loss and betrayal of close and trusted friendships, and a sense that all of life was in ruins.

Also, I experienced tons of shame. It took me to places where I could think of nothing else except what people thought of me.  All of these feelings created an emotional paralysis, disconnection from life and people, and so much fear of the unknown.

what did you want to scream out to church leaders? to God? to anyone who would listen?

To leaders – “Who in the bloody world do you think you are to treat us/others this way? Do you have any idea what it is to live and love like Jesus?  You look nothing like Him!

To God – “Why do you let this go on?  So much pain, so many wounds, not just in our city but everywhere in the name of ‘church’, in the name of You!. Why do you sit still? Do you care?”

To myself – “Am I crazy?  Am I what they say I am?  What is the truth?  Who am I?  Where do I belong?”

To some former friends who went missing – “Where are you? Did I mean so little to you?”

what are some things that safe people did or said that have really helped you keep moving forward?

A couple of friends patiently listened to my lament, vents, and pain day after day with no judgment or advice.   

“What happened to you is wrong.”  It was a huge help to have people use the words “spiritual abuse” “reprehensible” and “heinous” for what happened to us.   

“You are not alone.”  As hard as it is to hear other people’s church wounds, it was comforting to know others shared and understood this experience. 

“I am here., followed by a demonstration of actually being there.

 “I love you.”

“I think you are —- (Awesome, noble, courageous, inspiring)”

what are some things that people said or did that hurt, that you’d put in the category of “these kinds of things really harm souls so don’t do or say it”?

Minimizing: implying that moving through this should be swift or simple, or that there is a time limit on the pain or grief of it.  “Move on,” “get over it,” “plug in somewhere,” “be sure you still use your gifts” or “All churches have problems.

Spiritualizing:  Statements that God is in control, God still has a purpose, etc. may be true but the timing was wrong.  God’s Word was used as a weapon against us soI couldn’t find comfort in Bible verses.   Reminders to forgive were painful too. These felt like telling an assault victim to be sure to forgive while the wounds are still fresh, instead of apprehending the criminal and making sure the wounds are bandaged.   

how has your relationship with God, others, yourself changed over these past season?

I’m definitely not a “church lady” any more in any sense of the word!  I haven’t been in a church building in almost a year except for weddings and funerals.  I have learned lots about my own integrity and core values and have no regret for standing for what I did.  I have learned tons about soul care and self-compassion and still have far to go in that.  I realize now my false view that “dying to myself” meant having no opinions or beliefs of my own. 

My faith is definitely in “deconstruction” and partial “reconstruction.” I am sorting and sifting a lot.  Some days, the only truth I hold to is “Jesus loves me, this I know”.

I am more ambivalent about relationships, and there is a pretty strong urge at times to isolate and not risk relationships.  I feel more cynical.

But now there are increasing moments when I see myself sliding down the slippery slope into an absolute ocean of grace, an ocean in which I can both rest and float, not drown or be pummeled by waves.

what words of hope do you have for others out here who have also “lost all they once held dear?”

I can’t think of anything more traumatic than being abused in the name of God.  It’s devastating.  My heart is with anyone who shares this experience.  There is a word picture that helped me.  In the horrible days of slavery in our country, there arose a network of people called the Underground Railroad who assisted escaped slaves in the journey toward freedom.  They placed lanterns outside their cabins and offered a safe place to receive nourishment, rest, and directions to the next cabin of safety.

In order to reach freedom, these escaped slaves travelling fearfully through the night had to place some trust in the kindness of people they had never met.  It was a risk, but without that risk they would never find their way to freedom. 

And so it is for us.  Rescue and rest and encouragement come from unexpected places.  There is love and kindness in the world.  It may show up in places you are not expecting to find it, so keep your eyes open for those lanterns in the night. 

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thank you, dear janell.  i am so honored to know you and see your honest journey toward freedom unfold after such deep hurt.  i am so sad at what gets done in the name of God.  you are brave and inspiring and such an important part of this crazy beautiful underground railroad.

next week for this series:  what it’s like…when your child comes out as gay

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