The Opposite of "Overcoming"

During the late 1900's (Read: My teen years), Christian lingo adopted a decidedly militaristic bent.  Believers were "prayer warriors" standing on the "battlefield of worldly desires."  Heroes of the faith were encouraged to "fight FOR family values."  The Christian Coalition, established in the late 80's, took "victory in Jesus" to the next level by promoting certain political action (via voter guides) to conservative Evangelical voters.  Closer to home, my private school's spirit song touted students as "Christian soldiers in the army of the King."   

The "us versus them" vibes were strong.  Othering the world at large seemed essential to Christianity's success.  Let me be clear: When I refer to "Christianity" here, I'm talking about a religious movement and not necessarily a life lived according the the teachings of Jesus.  Unfortunately, these things do not always align.  This can be most readily observed in behavior towards two particular groups: The powerful/religious elite -and- low status outcasts/unchurched persons.  Within these interactions often lies the deepest disparity between the love of Christ and the actions of those who profess His name.  Because, much to the chagrin of the spiritual leaders of His day, Jesus specifically sought out exiles, refugees, and rejects as recipients for His message of hope.  In contrast, today many churched people place their hope in the loud promises of the influential few.  These prominent ones *may* profess faith, but -through their lack of advocacy or compassion for the marginalized- completely disregard the very heartbeat of Jesus' ministry on earth.  If this sounds backwards, that's because it is.

At some point Christian theology got linked to winning.  Call it blessed, set apart, lifted up, anointed, chosen.  The word used to indicate winning can vary, but the general connotation is the same: Success.  (You see why JC's dedication to the lowly becomes confusing in this context.) The assumed result of following "God's perfect will" (a nebulous concept which racked up LOTS of sermon time) was a peaceful life marked by contentment and reward.  And while these themes (and words!) do exist in Scripture, American Christianity laser-focused on triumph...to the exclusion of countless Biblical principals based in humility and empathy.  This unbalanced worldview changes a system of values into a "value system" where positive outcomes and an unflinchingly grateful mindset become markers of worthiness.  The result?  My spiritual self wasn't well-equipped to lose.  I was taught to overcome.  Encouraged to make my "mess into a message," my "test into a testimony."  This unwritten rule of churches, reinforced through video testimonials and pulpit praise stories, taught the reframing of past and current struggles into spiritual sagas or goldmines for growth.  Much like a Rocky-esque training montage, these battles were strengthening our warrior faith foundation.

Then Margot died.  And this unspoken spirituality of winning, of which I'd become incredibly well-versed, revealed its dark underbelly of fraudulence and cruelty.  Because when one could no longer contort their actual life situations into neat lessons of transformation, what happened then?  Some Christians felt the need to create a triumphant script FOR us: Margot's death would "strengthen our love for God" and "build our testimony" to "impact countless others."  We knew loss families who'd traveled this route in earnest, their devotion bolstered by the hope of reuniting with their child in heaven.  But our reality remained: Margot's death uprooted rudimentary elements of faith, perspective, and hope.  And to have believers use our family's tragedy as a springboard for THEIR conquering hero theology, well, it felt a lot like being pillaged on behalf of someone else's faith narrative.  Like Margot was being claimed as the spoils of a holy war.

My middle-class upbringing as a Christian in America is NOT a story of adversity.  In fact, in many ways, it's one more tale in an ongoing chronicle of sameness, smiling Sunday morning faces, and a row of open doors and opportunities.  And why wouldn't it be?  History books portray the establishment of this country by my European ancestors as a similar, almost transcendent, ascendancy.  Surely this country, these people, MUST be blessed by God?  Because we won, we conquered.  But that's a rather narrow account of American history, a version that ignores the genocide of indigenous peoples through calculated assault and spread of disease.  That same national amnesia glosses over our ruthless era of "lawful" enslavement of humans and downplays the ensuing -often deadly- struggle for civil rights that followed.  Okay, listen.  I'm not here to give you a lecture about history, heaven knows Elijah is MUCH more equipped to do that.  I AM here to bear witness to an insulated church culture, one especially fortified by my particular social status, method of education (private, religious), and skin color. This insulated culture failed to authentically engage with the realities of past and present day suffering, including the church's role in said suffering, to the benefit of the church and those in leadership.  

Here's what I mean: A child is born into a family who practices Christianity.  If this child is African-American, their belief in a loving God will be learned against a brutal backdrop of slavery and racism. Having to reconcile this idea of a "good God" while living within the harsh truths of a "bad world" is no small feat.  In fact, it is the very depiction of faith.  That I, as a white, middle-class, American Christian, was not born into this same type of reckoning speaks volumes.  It speaks of a privileged ability to remain unaware.

 Please read more of Cole's stark, poetic exposition: https://colearthurriley.com/

Within an insulated church environment, "likeness" was key.  Similar people from similar backgrounds with similar education and similar outlooks.  It was unspoken: Act a certain way, look a certain way, be a certain way.  A faith of rote memorization, not curiosity.  "Praise reports," stories of desired outcomes -advantageous outcomes- being the result of God's intervention, were magnified like a holy highlight reel.  Everything else was dealt with quietly.  This culture influenced generations of churched women to minimize everything from miscarriage to marital discord as something "we just don't talk about."  Not to mention the inequitable power dynamics of gender inside church walls.  The shiny Sunday status quo was to be maintained at all costs, despite pressing sadness, the climate of current events, or questioning from congregants.  Which left less and less space for the "losing" side, less space for doubts to be voiced, less space for mourning.  Any structure left unchecked and unchallenged will never allow constructive change and the resulting growth to occur.  Stagnant ecosystems lead to rot.  The recent exodus from church pews, coined as the "exvangelical movement" (discussed in this thoughtful article by Michelle Panchuk), is perhaps evidence of this very fact.

To be clear: I participated in this; I am not innocent.  This blog isn't written to condemn any particular pastor, denomination, or religious expression.  I'm not mad at my parents.  I'm not resentful about the time wind whipped a light off the top of our campus water tower, shattered it through my Jetta's back windshield, and my Baptist college (via their insurance adjusters) labeled it an "act of God" to avoid payout.  (Actually, I'm still annoyed about this one.  And, for the record, Lynn Rushing would not abide it.  Using the full power of his CEO voice, he confronted the college's blame passing nonsense.  Needless to say, they paid up.) As defined by Merriam-Webster, culture is "the set of shared attitudes, values, goals, and practices that characterizes an institution or organization."  An "insulated church culture" is no fault of a single church, person, doctrine, or practice; it is a SHARED burden of responsibility. 

For all the perspectives which were unsought, undermined, or unvalued within a church setting, please forgive me.

For all those misunderstood or silenced within a church setting, please forgive me.

For all the ones who needed to deny or conceal aspects of their personhood within a church setting, please forgive me.

For all harmed by the misuse or abuse of power within a church setting, please forgive me.

Both inside and outside the church, Christ was no respecter of persons.  Degradation, secrecy, and exclusion had no place in His ministry on earth.  In accordance with that, Jesus' name should unconditionally promote and preserve candor, welcome, respect, and love for everyone.  Even and especially the losers.  Because when the widow, the immigrant, the addict, the cancer patient, and the exvangelical are allowed to share their stories, it WILL invite more participation in the most sacred dialogue about life and death and God and purpose.  Trust this.  And to those poisoned by the pseudo-religious ritual of cause and effect thinking, hear me: Health, wealth, and success are NOT indicative of Divine love, just as disease, poverty, and misfortune are NOT indicative of Divine retribution.  You do not need to overcome to be accepted.  You can express grief and doubt in loud, messy ways.  You are loved within and throughout the losing, never -not ever- despite it.