When You Think Of Church, Do You Think Of Confessional Community?

The woman told me she belonged to a fellowship.

This woman, who for the sake of the argument we’ll call Alison (not her real name), did not know I was a Christian.  I don’t always jump at every opportunity to say ‘Snap’ whenever I come across a professing believer.  Alison was a lot more open with me and others in the class about the fact that she was a part of a fellowship and even felt comfortable sharing some of the literature about the church, even though this was meant to be a group about something non-faith related.

The class, which included evangelical atheists, evidently weren’t offended, so she continued expressing her love in good deeds like bringing in snacks for her classmates and tutor.

Anyway, the one to one conversation touched on the subject of her engagement with the fellowship.  It was here that the wheels fell off the pretty image of a contented Christian carrying her joyous task of living out Christ’s love with others.

She shared how she was the victim of sexual harrassment from an older member of the fellowship.  It had been just the one episode, but there was enough about it for her to be seriously concerned about it.  She told the pastor of the fellowship about it, as she didn’t feel comfortable approaching the perpetrator herself.  When she shared her concerns, the pastor turned around and said it was the first time he heard anyone complain about the perpetrator, and he was a loved, upstanding member of the fellowship so there must have been some mistake or misunderstanding.  Either way there was no need as far as he was concerned to take the matter any further, and if Alison had a problem with the perpetrator then it was perhaps best for her not to come to the fellowship.

Alison continued attending the fellowship, but her view of the perpetrator was forever tarnished and she still held malicious and bitter thoughts towards him.  She was none too impressed by the pastor either and from then on just preferred to keep things to herself, though she was quick to point out to others, whenever the chance arose, the nasty experience she had with the perpetrator.

Just in the retelling of this tale, there was a lot to consider.

I can imagine people reading this reaching a number of conclusions about the fellowship, about the perpetrator and about the pastor.  These conclusions are understandable on the basis that the report from Alison is true.  I wonder what you are left thinking about Alison though?

As I sought to understand the situation better, it highlighted again what happens when our view of church is skewed along hierarchical lines that suggest that issues are to be sorted out by the pastor/minister/bishop/priest/father/vicar/top-dude-in-the-church.  It said that the idea of a confessional community that was free to share with brothers and sisters issues was ridiculous.  It looked with disdain at the thought of acknowledging mature brothers and sisters – the spiritual who could restore those who fell into sin – and using those relationships to help resolve issues.

What if Alison’s experience was taken as a matter of concern and someone sought to bring clarity between her and the perpetrator, so that if indeed the harrassment was the case it could be addressed appropriately?  What if someone who knew the perpetrator could come alongside him and coax and challenge him as a child of God to check his acts out in the light of what God deems as correct?  What if someone looked to make peace in the situation so that forgiveness, correction and seeds of hope were planted, rather than barriers, bitterness and belligerence?

Since I first came across expressions of confessional Christian community and engaged with them, it has always made me hanker for that more.  It is such a great environment to sort out relationships and grow together to work through some difficult issues in the atmosphere of love, peace and righteousness.  It was not about condemning and destructively criticising.  Neither was it about glibly letting things go on the pretext that this was what forgiveness looked like.  Rather this was constructive, this was an environment for conviction and compassion.  It was so, because people felt free to confess to each other, pray for each other, and be built up by each other.

Those experiences I’m sure won’t be rare ones, and will certainly be ones that I will pursue and recommend so that issues like Alison’s will be less of the norm and all the more rare.

For His Name’s Sake

Shalom

dmcd