I wrote recently about why I said Goodbye To Jesus, almost 20 years ago. That was probably the beginning of the end for my church involvement since my church was not for people who had said Goodbye to Jesus. One day when I was brave enough I would need to leave. I didn’t want to rush into that though, because I was afraid that isolating myself from all my Christian communities might trigger more mental illness in me. So it took another few years. But I did eventually get brave enough to leave.
I’d already had to leave one Christian Community back in 2000 because of acute mental illness (my second episode). I had no choice about leaving and I didn’t even get to say goodbye. The last day I was there I fully expected to be back the next day. But as it turned out I spent all of the next day in my psychiatrist’s office with my husband. And the leader of that study never allowed me to attend again.
That Christian Community was called Bible Study Fellowship; it’s a weekly Bible study with local groups all over the world. Each local group has several small groups within it. For the first half, the small groups meet individually in different rooms in the location. Then everyone gathers together in the second half for a talk from the leader based on that day’s Bible passage.
BSF is a thing unto itself; it has a lot of rules. New members are read a whole sheet of what BSF calls ‘guidelines’. But actually they are rules. Because it’s not ok to break them!
Those ‘guidelines’ could be frustrating but also contributed to making BSF special in a way I haven’t experienced in any other small group Bible study. After being in BSF a little while I was allowed to be a leader of one of the small groups, which felt like a huge honor and privilege.
Being a leader was a much bigger time commitment. It meant meeting two days a week instead of one; we had a leader’s meeting the day before the actual meeting to make sure we were ready to lead our groups. The leader would take us through the study in the same way we’d be taking our groups through it the next day. But also we’d get tips on how to be excellent group discussion leaders. (Our small group time wasn’t really a discussion because the guidelines made it too structured for that, but that’s what we were called.)
As best I recall we were not allowed to lead our group the next day if we missed the leaders’ meeting for any reason. Not being prepared to lead that week’s lesson was unacceptable. There were also some weirdly secret responsibilities the leaders had. The responsibilities were intended to help us connect with our group members. They did work and and weren’t weird per se. The secrecy was what was weird. I think it was because if you tell someone you’re going to do something it might feel like you’re just doing it because you have to. If they don’t know you have to, it might feel like you’re doing it just because you care.
Really this is a rather patronizing approach to life and human beings. In reality anyone who agrees to take on the time commitment of being a discussion leader cares. That was never in doubt. We should not have had to try to ‘trick’ our group members into thinking we cared. And anyone who had been a leader before knew the secret responsibilities anyway.
So it was a bit silly, but in their weird quirky way all the BSF rules did help foster a level of community beyond what I experienced in any other Christian groups. Even if it was because one of the guidelines was to always attend, so we had a lot of opportunity to bond! Some people dropped out quickly because it was way too structured. Those who could handle all that structure and stayed, tended to love it for the same reasons I did.
It was beautiful to see how a level of trust developed between us in the group, which that enabled us to be honest with each other. We would share our real problems week by week and we would pray for one another. We were strongly encouraged to apply the week’s Bible passage to our lives. As a result we’d hear in our small groups, week after week, how the lives of people in our group were being changed by this Bible study, and that was very powerful and encouraging. As a leader I was very excited whenever I saw anyone in my group powerfully helped by any aspect of being in BSF. I cared about them and was very pleased for them.
Before I became a group leader I developed somewhat of a special relationship with the teaching leader (who I hadn’t met before BSF) because I’d become the pianist. I was the one musician who would accompany the opening hymn each week. That role meant an unexpected special thing happened: the leader would call me the day before the Bible Study to tell me what hymns we’d be doing. I loved those phone calls, hearing hear her explain what hymns she was choosing and what major themes she’d be teaching about the next day. When I accepted the role of group leader I couldn’t be the pianist any more, which was a shame. But leading a group was much more special so I didn’t mind giving up that role.
As I’ve said, the rules were part of the reason BSF was so special. I accepted them, realizing that rules aren’t always bad. For example, for a recovering alcoholic, the choice (aka self-imposed rule) to stay away from temptation can be life-saving.
The problem arose when I became ill. A person with my particular illness – a manic person – is absolutely terrible at keeping rules. They are totally in ‘fly by the seat of my pants’ mode. Impulsive and unaware, they just do what they want, whenever they want, regardless of what other people say, convinced it’s the right thing to do.
I think the leader did care about me as a person, but a day came when I was at the leaders meeting and not able to function as a group leader was required to. I think the leader called my husband after the meeting. She probably said I was too ill to lead the next day. I couldn’t have been there anyway since he took the next day off to take me to my psychiatrist. He’d already been concerned about my mental state for a while.
So, one Wednesday (which will be 21 years ago, exactly, tomorrow) I was there. The next day I wasn’t and I soon learned that I wasn’t going to come back as normal the following week. I was not coming back, period. Not any time that was anywhere in the near future. I was cut off; exiled indefinitely.
Unfortunately for me, what that meant was, when I was very ill, and therefore most needed support, I was sent away from my primary support group. Not only that, I wasn’t even allowed to say goodbye! The rules forbade me from any contact with my own small group members after I was no longer their leader.
This might not have been true for most members but, because I was a group leader, I was not allowed to contact them in case it interfered with them bonding with their new leader, my replacement. Again I get it. Nevertheless it was still extremely difficult for me at the time.
I’m pretty sure I remember getting a few ‘get well soon’ cards from my group members. Strictly speaking I was not allowed to reply because I was not allowed any contact with them. Maybe I did, though. After all, what was the point in keeping that rule now I was already kicked out? How could it get any worse? It wasn’t like I could be more kicked out than I already was!
One of the sad things about my illness is that when people are manic they can break relationships so irretrievably that they can never be fixed. I tried asking the leader several months later if I might return. By then I had been well enough to attend another similar Bible study for months (CBS). CBS was good but had less guidelines than BSF which meant in various ways it wasn’t as good. So, while I was glad I could be in it, to some extent it made me only appreciate BSF more and miss it more. Anyway somewhat to my surprise my BSF leader still said no. As best I recall I never spoke to her again except once when I ran into her on the street in our neighborhood.
As it turned out though, there was another BSF that I not only could drive to, but, due to how they defined the regions of BSF, it was in a different region! This was possibly significant since I had managed to annoy not only my own BSF leader but also her leader too. She had come down specially to meet with me and remonstrate with me in the weeks leading up to my ‘expulsion’, when I was already pushing my luck, as it were. Evidently my own leader had complained to her about me.
I think what happened was, I’d read the BSF doctrinal statement and written my leader a letter about it. I had issues with one or two of them (I think I had legitimate differences of opinion that definitely lay within orthodoxy). However they were horrified I had the nerve to question the doctrines of BSF. That was so appallingly above my pay grade the two of them needed to meet with me and seriously urge me back into my place. Which was, group leader. Not doctrine corrector!
So I drove to the other BSF and asked their leader if I could join. I told her the truth about my expulsion and why. I just wanted to be a member; I no longer had aspirations to lead. I could see that wasn’t ever going to be possible again. She was kind and listened and basically said, well, if you can keep the guidelines, sure, you can be a member. She had the advantage of no history with me and I was so happy she gave me a chance.
I still missed being with my local friends in my local BSF group. I was a bit annoyed that my group leader was worse at it than I had been – but then I can see that was rather judgmental and maybe I was a bit jealous. Seriously though, the group dynamic was too much about her problems with her new house that she was having custom built. The group should not be all about the leader’s problems. Leaders’ meetings were for sharing those. When the group leader was leading their own group it was supposed to be the group members time, not theirs.
Anyway so in an unexpected turn of events, about two years later, I think, the leader of my new BSF group became leader of my original local group, when the other leader retired due to family illness. Which meant I finally got to go back. By then I think I’d said Goodbye to Jesus so I had the issues I’ll describe below. Nevertheless I was happy to be back in my local BSF group with my local Christian friends. After a multi-year exile.
I never had the same relationship with the new leader as the old; however, ironically I was the only person she knew when she became leader of my local group. So she asked if I would switch her overheads for her. I sat at the front and did that. And there I was, with a special role again. Albeit small.
The exile was really hard; I’d like to say that I was thankful my church didn’t kick me out like BSF did. I mean, I suppose I was, but at the time I was upset by various weird invisible restrictions they put on me. That were on no-one else. Actually who knows, maybe they were, because they were invisible? But I could tell other church members were allowed to talk to all church leaders, for example, and I wasn’t allowed to talk to one of them at all. So there was one definite difference.
The restrictions gradually eased as I got better. Also some were clarified so I didn’t have the complication of one worried person protecting someone else from me. When they actually didn’t need protecting anymore. I got to the point of going into the church offices to help sort out orchestra music each week. It was comforting and healing that they let me do that, given my former restrictions.
However, by that point, I’d said Goodbye to Jesus and so being part of my church and BSF had become very difficult. I was going to have to leave eventually.
I felt backed into a corner with no good choices. (And no Jesus to talk to about it, either, since I’d said Goodbye). I was afraid to leave my Christian communities in case it made me ill but each time I was there I felt less like I belonged there. I figured that leaving would probably the right course of action once I felt strong enough. Maybe.
A big part of me didn’t want to leave at all. Now I was better everyone else seemed ok with me being there. It was only me that was uncomfortable. Was it really that big a deal. Did I really need to leave?
Technically, no, I could have kept quiet and stayed. But – it felt totally wrong. It was compromising my ability to be an honest person. In spite of everything I was now unsure of, I still wanted to be honest. I did not want to be a hypocrite.
For many years, until some point when I was recovering from my second illness episode, I used to feel like I had a special bond with other Christians through the Holy Spirit. As best I could tell we enjoyed talking about whatever related to our shared faith. I sought out Christian friends because I felt that other people just wouldn’t understand in the same way. Looking back it feels now like I had been prejudiced and elitist but at the time it didn’t feel that way at all.
Now everything was different. Forget the special bond. The only way I could cope with what had happened to me at the hands of other Christians in my church and Bible study was to keep telling myself “they’re just people. People get scared and then they get controlling.” One big problem was that on the whole it seemed like my friends who didn’t not regard themselves as Christians, or not evangelicals anyway – yes I somehow had managed to have some of them – were more accepting of me and more trusting than my [evangelical/Bible-believing] Christian friends..
And so, this absolutely shattered my belief in Christians having supernatural ability through the Holy Spirit to be better and do better than other people who did not claim to have the help of the Holy Spirit. I know Christians aren’t perfect but how could I believe they had a superpower no-one else had when they were treating me worst of all? It didn’t absolutely eradicate my belief in the Holy Spirit but it did convince me that what I’d been told about who did and who didn’t have it had to be wrong. If indeed the Holy Spirit is a real entity who lives inside anyone. Honestly, on that last point? I’m an agnostic agnostic. I am a recovering certainty addict and that is something I cannot know, as best I can tell.
In any case, that Holy Spirit dilemma was a life-threatening injury to the core of my belief system at the same time as I felt I needed to Say Goodbye to Jesus anyway for the sake of my sanity.
So I went from feeling? thinking? I had a special bond with Christians to having literally no way to be honest with them about what was going on inside me. I had a few goes at telling some Christians early on. I quickly learned not to go there. There was literally no way to explain about saying Goodbye to Jesus. Some Christians looked blank, as if their brain literally erased the words after I said them. Others felt they had a handle on it and invariably responded with [paraphrased]: “So when are you going to stop sinning?” Or they’d tell me about something in the Bible as if that would override my current significant data collection of first-hand evidence that the doctrine of the Holy Spirit was somehow fatally flawed. Nothing in a very old book (sorry but, it is) could possibly match up to my significant data collection. That I never wanted to collect, but, there it was. A literal data mountain standing in the way of everything anyone quoted me from the Bible.
When I tried to talk to Christians I felt ironically like I used to feel when I was trying to tell people who weren’t Christians what being a Christian was like. They simply didn’t get it. They couldn’t understand. Here I was again but now it was Christians who didn’t understand. And people who weren’t Christians didn’t get it either. They would never be able to understand the significance of where I was at now compared to where I’d been. The huge loss I was experiencing. I didn’t know if there was anyone else out there who would understand.
n fact I did find some people on an online atheist forum that did understand because they’d once been as involved as me in churches like mine. These people understood but they were mostly so so angry!
in fact I did find some people on an online atheist forum that did understand because they’d once been as involved as me in churches like mine. These people understood but they were mostly so so angry! Perhaps they were angry partly because now they were subjected to Christians telling them either they were never a Christian, or to repent and stop sinnning. That definitely was something I now had in common with them, if I tried to be honest with Christians. It was so invalidating. I hated it. Maybe they were also in grief because they were experiencing the same huge loss as me. Whatever the reason I wasn’t interested in being angry. That definitely would have messed with my mental health! So I was like them but not like them. They were not going to be my ‘new community’.
At some point during that interim time of being at church and not able to talk to people honestly at church, I went to have a chat with the pastor of the local Unitarian church. Going to see him was a bit scary but I think I’d read something he wrote and deduced from it he was very smart and perhaps a decent guy. So it wasn’t so much I was scared of him but that it felt very weird and daunting walking into a church that I’d never expected to walk into because I’d very strongly believed it was a very anti-Christian establishment.
It was very refreshing and comforting that I could be honest with that pastor. He did comment on me not praying (because of saying Goodbye to Jesus) because I asked him to. I can’t remember what he said, but I do remember that he clearly didn’t care about whether I prayed or not. Meaning, he felt no compulsion to try to push me back into praying. Unlike the people in my own church evidently felt. It turned out that the Unitarian pastor once belonged to a church like mine. He later left for various reasons as I recall; being gay was a pretty major one.
He said something rather sad and poignant regarding his own exile, along the lines of: “Yeah, I still feel like one of them on the inside. But they don’t see it – they don’t feel I am one of them.”
Talking to him didn’t solve my problems about my own Christian communities but at least I got to be honest to a spiritual leader for once. Even if he was leader of a church I’d long believed was anti-Christian.
I finally left my church and BSF in 2005. This was facilitated by the two leaders I felt closest to announcing they were about to move on. That definitely made it easier for me.
In 2006 I ran across Jim Henderson on the Internet. His website tagline at the time “Helping Christians Learn to be Normal” sounded intriguing and drew me in. I ended up in private email conversation with him and then met him in person and chatted for hours. All of which was very healing, because I was able to completely honest with him and he was never shaming or invalidating. Everything I said was ok. Actually he laughed a lot but not in an invalidating way. Just because he generally laughs at everything. We have an in-joke about ‘Satin’ – well, never mind.
I did have a go at talking to a pastor from my church in 2006 fairly soon after I’d left church and met Jim. (Not one of the two; this one didn’t have history with me either good or bad). He invited me to come see him; that sounded promising. But once I was there talking to him it didn’t go well.
I liked Jim and the Christians he hung out with – they were all kind to me.They were much more accepting of where I was at than the Christians I’d been used to hanging out with. However I didn’t really feel like I belonged in their groups. this was not going to be my new community either. Just like the Christians I was more used to, they liked to worship and talk about God. I didn’t; I couldn’t do that anymore. I wouldn’t have said Goodbye to Jesus if that had all been ok for me.
I went to some of their conferences but stayed out of the sessions because of the worship and God talk. I mostly hung out in the hallway talking with anyone else not in sessions. Unless I was speaking: Jim did ask me to speak a couple of times which made me feel very special.
Quite recently something changed, for me. I’m not sure what. I found myself wanting to pray for a family in need who is holding daily online prayer meetings. Somehow, instead of being afraid it was wrong for me to pray, I started to feel like, how can the cry of my heart on behalf of someone else be wrong? Actually I think maybe that is the key: on behalf of someone else. Jesus brother James wrote
“religion pure and undefiled with the God and Father is this, to look after orphans and widows in their tribulation” (James 1:27a)
Giving a gift of prayer to other people in need and in distress, there is something so pure and right about that, how could it ever be wrong? I hadn’t thought of the verse in James until today. Nevertheless I felt the rightness of that desire to help in that way, so deep inside me, that I decided to give it a go.
And so I did pray out loud for that family last week. It was the first time I’d prayed at all for almost 2 decades. I set out to bless them and was blessed in turn, unexpectedly by them, as I wrote about.
I believe there are special aspects of the family’s online prayer meetings that make them a Christian Community remarkably like Christian Community as Jesus intended. BSF was the closest I’d been to that before. But BSF is so structured and ‘guidelines-based!
There are hardly any rules in these online twice daily prayer meetings. Yet, things go ok! And the meetings are quietly amazing and powerful. It’s almost as if, when people don’t feel they have to control every aspect of a meeting, that means God is free to do whatever he wants to do?
I’ll write more about that soon.