Why Are Christians So Mean?
Consider this my love letter to the American Church
Some will take this the wrong way. Only they know why. Others won’t see themselves in anything said here. I pray they aren’t too devastated when their bubble finally bursts. As for the scoffers and mockers, they are recorded in Psalm 53:1.
To the faithful few who follow Christ wholeheartedly. The remnant. The honest ones, the bottom-feeders. Those who read the Bible, believe it, and do their best to put faith into action.
This commentary is for you.
WHY ARE PEOPLE SO OFFENDED IN “THE CHURCH”?
I sat in the front row. I was on the platform, in the choir, and on the YA leadership team. My name was known around the office. I’ve been the first to arrive, greet newcomers, and give handouts to the needy. I’ve donated 10% of my (gross) income expecting a “hundred-fold blessing.” I’ve invited friends and showed up every time the doors were open. I went forward for altar calls, I strived to meet expectations, and I know one or two sermon illustration were directed toward me.
When my perfect attendance started slipping, no one called. When I showed up, some—including the “care ministry” servants—cut their eyes or walked past me like I was a stranger. Some greeted me with, “Where have you been?” instead of “How have you been?” Despite participating in gatherings for nearly 20 years, only a handful know my story. No one asks, so I don’t tell. It’s my fault for coming after the show starts and failing to attend small groups regularly. If missing one or more services a year is equivalent to falling from grace, I’m going to hell. <insert eye roll emoji>
I’m not bothered by preachy messages. My generation needs more fire and brimstone! I read my Bible. I can discern Scripture from the pastor’s seminary training. I’m not coming for anybody’s microphone or position. Unmarried/women may have high titles and ministry responsibilities, but they’re not the head of anything (yes, I’m one of those who believe that). I don’t care how donations are spent. A “wealthy pastor” is an oxymoron, but that’s not my fight. I’ve never made a scene when members of the “first family,” the cliques, and the core (“ride or die”) are celebrated, prophesied over, and given standing ovations. Meanwhile, their children are terrorizing the youth department.
This is the church culture American Christians created.
SO WHY ARE PEOPLE LEAVING “THE CHURCH”?
When that spirit of offense makes its rounds, I quietly shuffle toward the back to avoid leaving altogether (truly, the Lord’s voice is louder than the preacher’s when you’re not all up in the mix). From this cold pew, I watched them walk out—first, one by one, and then whole families. Eventually, not even the holidays could woo them. Was it something the minister said? Oftentimes. Were they vying for a position on the platform? Perhaps. Are they living in sin and rebellion? Maybe. Did they leave because the pastor’s wife is a Jezebel? This, I can neither confirm nor deny.
Here’s what I do know:
I called this one when she disappeared, and she confided in me that her husband threatened to leave. Another one said they had neglected their family for a perfect service and attendance record. This other one was looking for mentorship and support to launch a ministry. Another one discerned the pastor’s harsh rebuke, disguised as a sermon, was really a reply to their email. That one family attended for five years, yet they didn’t “fit in,” and their kids made no friends. When that deceased loved one’s survivor and the divorcee finally returned, they were rejected for coping in solitude, accused of joining another church. I caught up to this one and learned they left after years of witnessing the pastor’s relatives openly criticize, ridicule, and gossip without consequence. On and on it goes.
No scandals. No controversies. No funny money business. Most of the time, it’s just the toxic environment of mean Christians who forgot everything Jesus delivered them from. And since they’ve been serving the Lord for 257,000 years, you—who can’t pray or read longer than 10 minutes—can’t possibly have any questions, objections, or suggestions. Rather than take offense and walk away, why don’t you thank God for the fellowship of those who still acknowledge your presence? Oh, and keep tithing.
Of course, you know this is all one-sided. If you want to hear the other side, I dare you to call the pastor’s secretary, leave a message, and hold your breath.
PASSING JUDGMENT ON “THE CHURCH”
I recall my days of being a critical, judgmental, performance-driven, pastor-worshiping saint. I was in the front row and the choir, remember? My sh*t did not stink, and I thought “church hurt” was a cop out (for some, it still is). When I finally realized my righteousness was as good as a dirty tampon (that’s how evangelicals preach it), my striving ceased. I no longer needed anyone’s attention when I stepped into the room. And believe it or not, I’ve never left a church offended at anyone.
After nearly two decades, I’ve learned to navigate (and not entertain or contribute to) nonsense. Sadly, it’s easier to see Christ in people from a distance. I love the church, but it can’t always be my go-to for deep, meaningful relationships. I know I have strong opinions and compliance issues, so I’ll never be close to anyone with a high title. I am faithful to the main services, but I don’t attend all the events. Some “churchy” practices are okay, but I won’t buy in to every denominational doctrine. I can appreciate good preaching and hold my “amen” when I disagree.
My relationship with God predates and supersedes the local church. I came into the Kingdom before I came into the congregation. I was born again before I signed any membership papers. I am a living stone, a living sacrifice. I’m free to respond to the Spirit’s conviction rather than man’s obligation. It was Jesus Christ who died for me, not the church.
Whether it’s a medium-sized local church, a multi-million-dollar “ministry,” or a backwoods preacher with a cult following, you will find pride, arrogance, self-righteousness, and victim-blaming aplenty. There is great exposure happening now, especially in the Pentecostal/Charismatic movement (where I hail from), and I’m glad about it. False signs, false wonders, false prophets, guilt trips, silent treatments, “touch not thine anointed,” and “sowing seeds” is coming to a much needed end. We will soon see who He favors in the last days.
To every mean Christian, from the platform to the parking lot: I hope you get delivered from your mortal flesh wounds. I pray you realize that everyone is struggling with something, and ask Jesus to show you how to love people for real.
Until further notice, I’ll be watching from the back pew…