My last blog post focused on ghosts, those people who attend worship for a few weeks, a few months, even a couple of years, and then suddenly disappear, without notice, without trace, without explanation. I usually reach out to these folks, but my messages are generally met with still more silence. It’s one of the most frustrating aspects of being a local church pastor.

Recently, I had a bit of a surprise when I heard from one of Old South’s ghosts. I had sent an email to check in with this person who had attended worship regularly over several months last year, but then disappeared. The response that was sent back to me contained a sentiment connected to something that I’ve been feeling over the course of the last several years. And that is, there’s a sense that the institution of the Christian Church is not to be trusted, that there is something scary and problematic about the Christian Church in general. Some of those who have been away from the faith for awhile, but have started to feel a pull to try church again, end up discovering a complicated web of impressions regarding the Church, and its various churches. That web contains a complicated network of negative strands that cannot easily be reconciled with the few strands that may hold a more positive experience or view.

I started to feel a shift in perceptions regarding the Christian church several years ago. The place where the shift has been the most apparent? Funerals. It’s a common thing to find at funerals quite a few people who have no idea how things go in a church service. Many years ago, it usually felt like the “unchurched” who attended funerals at Old South came with at least a respectful, if tepid, attitude. These people wanted to pay their respects to the deceased, to the family and friends, and they recognized that the deceased felt a connection to this particular community of faith. Usually these unchurched people would at least try to be present, like picking up a hymnal when the congregation was asked to sing. And they might even display a bit of curiosity about the church and why the church was important to the person who died.

In the last few years, I’ve noticed that the curiosity has been replaced by animosity. I can feel it. There are usually people who appear visibly angry, like they’ve been forced to visit a relative they despise. Another clue is that they don’t sing the hymns and usually they don’t even try. It’s very strange to be in a sanctuary that is mostly full of people and yet during any hymn singing, there is very little singing. During one funeral, the poor organist (who’s back is toward the congregation) thought he had started playing at the wrong time or was playing the wrong hymn because all he could hear was the organ. There was no discernible singing, despite the fact that the sanctuary was near full.

Though it’s hard to declare in a public way, I must admit that I’ve begun to feel a sort of kinship with the angry people. Because I am angry, too. I am angry about being a part of an institution that has so flagrantly harmed people, an institution that has been so rife with sin and transgression. I am angry at what’s happened in the various expressions of the Christian faith: the abuse of children in the Roman Catholic Church; the abuse of women in the Southern Baptist Church (and others); the unholy and dangerous alliance between evangelical churches (and their leaders) and a certain former president; the relentless commitment to what amounts to a second class status for women in most Christian churches and denominations; the hostility toward the LGBTQ+ community. Etc. Etc. I am angry, too, and frustrated, that my faith is sullied by those who have wantonly disregarded— on such a large scale— the most basic of tenets of the faith. And when found out, way too many faith leaders have been reluctant to admit and to confess, not only the harm they have caused to individuals and families, but to the institution of the Church itself, the supposed body of Christ in the world.

In the midst of this holiest of weeks in the Christian calendar, as we move through sacred story full of vital and challenging lessons that Jesus taught as he faced arrest and execution, and prepare for another Easter, I find myself wondering about whether it’s time to consider a break up. I don’t mean a break up with my faith and I certainly don’t mean a break up with Christ or God or the Holy Spirit. I’m talking about a break up with the institution of the Christian Church.

I have no idea what such a break up would look like, or how a possible break up would connect to the fact that, at present, I serve as a local church pastor of a community of faith that is part of a denomination that, while it may dangle on the edge of the liberal/progressive side of Christianity, is still Christian and is part of the complicated and messy network that essentially constitutes “the Church.” Yet, I feel compelled to raise this issue. It’s not just because I am increasingly angry about what is happening, and has happened, in the Church and among Christians, but I am deeply moved by those people who feel drawn to Christ, yet have no way to connect to Christ other than personal devotion— because the Church and her churches have strayed so far so often and remain so unwelcoming to so many.

I’m weary of being associated with the great transgressions of the Church. I’m weary of trying to explain the differences within the Church, and that the tiny section of Christendom in which I have found a home is different. It’s not at all that we are perfect, because we are not. Still, the large and extensive scandals that have rocked various Christian churches and denominations have become a huge liability— to me, as a pastor, and to the community of faith I serve. It may be time to confront that the liabilities are too serious to ignore, and that they may have become an insurmountable obstacle to doing the holy work we have been called to do in inviting and welcoming those who are looking for—yearning for—meaning and hope, love and grace, a community of care and blessing, in a world full of trouble.