A few weeks ago I wrote a post called “5 Reasons There Are No Millennials in Your Church.” Lots of people shared it, nearly a hundred people have commented on it, and I learned a lot in the process about how to communicate and about the people who read the blog.

A dominant theme I’ve noticed in the response to the post is this: lots of people have been jaded by the church. Whether a pastor gave in to culture, a small group didn’t support, or a church that majored on the minors.

A bunch of us have been burned by the church, right? Whether you’re a Christian, Agnostic, Atheist, or otherwise, someone in the church, pastor or parishioner, has hurt you in some way.

We’ve All Been Wounded

The church can hurt us in all sorts of ways, big or small.

Maybe you were gossiped about via “prayer request.”

Maybe your chili didn’t win the chili cook-off and it was clearly the best.

Maybe your pastor refused to do your wedding because of relationship choices.

Maybe the music is STILL too loud, despite your persistent requests for it to be turned down.

Big or small, all of us have been wounded by the church here and there. Those wounds leave scars, and scars can make us callous.

Wounds Leave Scars

Being hurt by the church is no joke. Too many of my friends growing up were hurt by the church somewhere along the way and have since not come back. However big or small the wound was, it’s kept them from the church and worshiping Christ with his bride.

It’s easy to make fun of people who leave the church because of carpet kerfuffles or other silly disputes, but regardless of how insignificant the wounds may seem, people leave the church.

A sting accompanies the attack of a Christian brother or sister that is absent from the wounds of the world.

Most of the time, it’s not our fault, right?

I mean it’s not your fault your girlfriends gossiped about you during small group.

It’s not your fault the elders are judgmental and called you out on sin.

Sometimes it’s true. Sometimes we’re wounded by the church and we had no hand in it.

The problem is, we are more responsible for our own wounds more than we’d care to admit.

The church would be benefited, we would be better off, and God would be glorified if we owned up to our wounds more often and  gave grace to those who wound us.

The greatest act of love in the universe is Jesus suffering at the hands of those for whom he’s suffering.

When we are at least partially responsible for the way in which we’ve felt hurt by those in the church, we need to own it. Sometimes we can be legitimately hurt, with no cause of our own (like when we’re gossiped about in small group).

Other times, though, we need to own our wounds. Like if elders are “judgmental” for calling us out on sin, or something like that. Are the elders being “judgmental,” or are they calling out real sin issues that you ought to address? Calling out and helping kill sin is part of the job of a church leader, and it’s surely not easy sometimes. Give them some grace and a listening ear.

No matter how legitimate or illegitimate our wounds are, they leave scars, and the church has to be aware of these scars.

Think about scars for a moment. I’ve got a couple of scars here and there from when I was a rambunctious kid, and right along the scars, there’s a bit less feeling.

Rough. Callous. Numb.

I think the same can happen when we’re wounded by the church, and I think that’s the fault in our scars.

It doesn’t have to be that way.

The Fault in Our Scars

When my pride is wounded, my heart is often wounded. Is that the same way with you?

Whether my pride deserved to be wounded or not, when I’m made fun of or when I’m knocked down a peg or two on the “awesomeness” meter, it hurts my heart a bit.

If we’re not careful, our wounded hearts can be enveloped by scar tissue.

My wife cut her finger pretty bad earlier this year and had to have some surgery to get it fully-functioning again. Part, or even most, of her 12+ weeks of physical therapy was primarily working to break down scar tissue. Why?

Scar tissue hinders motion. Scar tissue hinders feeling. Scar tissue latches on to the muscles and tendons around it and paralyzes them from working correctly.

If we’re not careful, our scarred hearts can prevent us from loving others.

You’ve been wounded by the church, and like Susie’s finger, if you don’t take some significant action to work that issue out, scar tissue is going to paralyze your heart and make you numb to the hearts of others.

Don’t let scar tissue suck the life out of your love.

Like Susie had to do with her finger, I think the way we protect our hearts from the paralysis of scar tissue is by working it out.

To break down the scar tissue in her finger, Susie had to hold it under a UV light, work her finger out, and a host of other exercises.

It sounds cheesy, but I think the same goes from preventing our hearts from being paralyzed by our untreated wounds.

The way you keep your heart healthy is by working it out.

Heal your wounds by learning to love others—even when they don’t love you back.

As Christians, we’re called to a supernatural Christ-like love that makes no sense to the world around us.

Even when we’ve been hurt by the church, our call to Christ-like love doesn’t disappear.

Christ was wounded for our transgressions and crushed for our iniquities. His suffering is a result of our sin.

Yet he loves us more than we could ever imagine.

The greatest act of love in the universe is Jesus suffering at the hands of those for whom he’s suffering.

Might we love others who wound us and look to the One who gives us the grace to do so.

 

This post was originally published on millennialevangelical.com