It is impossible to go through life without ending up with scars from relationships. The fact that we wound at all is a testament to our humanity. The fact that we are often as much the deliverers of scars as the receivers of scars speaks loudly to our own brokenness. Children are scarred by parents. Siblings grow up leaving scars upon one another. Co-workers and bosses leave wounds that can range from minor paper-cut like ones to major open, seeping wounds.
Not all scarring from relational squabbles is the same. Minor ones leave their mark as do major ones. All of them leave a lasting memory and reminder of a battle won or lost. It seems that the closer the relationships, the deeper and longer lasting the wound and subsequent scar left behind. Likewise, everyone deals with their relationship wounds in different ways. Some people are more resilient and successful than others; while the others languish under memories and unforgiveness.
It may come across as naive, but it seems that people expect fellow Christians to never leave a wound or scar upon others, particularly other believers. So, when this does occur, the surprise and hurt go deep. There is an expectation that “christians” will somehow exhibit a perfected humanity that is devoid of any ability to wound or scar with words, actions or attitudes. This is far from the case.
The other day I was listening to a fellow believer share the story of their spiritual journey. Raised in a religiously strict, legalistic home, this person was not able to do anything “worldly;” which included among other things going to movies, playing billiards, bowling, attending dances or associating with anyone who did such things. When this individual finally left home, they discovered a whole different world of Christian beliefs and practices. It caused them quite a personal identification crisis.
The biggest problem for this individual, however, was not with the particular Christian expression with which they grew up. Instead, it was the readily apparent hypocrisy that was witnessed among parents, established church members and church leadership. They could spout the doctrines of the faith, display a modicum of religious behavior and then turn right around and speak evil of one another, attack leadership and hold others in disdain. Spiritual knowledge was greater than the spiritual fruit of the Holy Spirit.
Once liberated from their past, the person who shared their story with me expressed the joy of being able to work with other Christians. Seeing how others worshipped and practiced their faith gave a new perspective. Unfortunately, the story shared with me included many places in the journey where terrible wounds were left by those in church leadership positions. I felt the pain expressed. I sensed the hurt and frustration over those that anyone would expect better behavior from in spiritual leadership. I also knew that any such expectations were wholly unrealistic.
We are a people of clay feet who follow the leadership of individuals with clay feet. We are a community of broken and wounded sheep who follow broken and wounded leaders. This is all the more reason that love, acceptance and forgiveness should be the hallmarks of such communities. Too often these qualities are absent in order to protect the appearance of spiritual perfection. In the presence of such spiritual “perfection,” one is deemed an authority and a leader, regardless of true inward character.
Too often, what happens behind the closed doors of church offices between staff or at the board meetings or membership meetings of the congregation becomes the place where wounds are given and received. Instead of being the sanctuaries they are touted to be, they become torture chambers of spiritual abuse. I have personal experiences with those meetings. Unfortunately, I also have too many friends who have either left ministry or left church altogether because of the stinging scars they still nurse.
The ironic answer to all this lies within the very thing that causes us to hand out scars to others like Boy Scout or Girl Scout badges. It lies in our brokenness. It is our brokenness within ourselves, towards others and towards God that fails us and causes us to fail others. Like broken pottery, the shards of our life lie hidden until someone steps upon them or touches them. Then we leave a wound.
At the same time, our brokenness holds the answer for all of us. Instead of attempting to hold up perfected lives before others to see and applaud, we would be better off acknowledging our broken places. Instead of playing to our strengths to lord it over others, we would do better to lead and influence from our own woundedness. Instead of attempting to portray a community of victors and overcomers who have no problems, we would serve ourselves and others better by admitting that we are a community of confessors and repenters.
I am not advocating for a fellowship of moaners and complainers who go around with sullen faces. I am not suggesting that defeatism and spiritual poverty become the Christian model for spirituality. We have already been down that road before with the Puritans, Quakers and Pietists. What I am suggesting is a spiritual formation and communal journey that includes a spiritual “sunshine policy.” A “sunshine policy” is one that allows light upon a situation so that everyone knows what is going on. It demands honesty, integrity, truthfulness, accountability, and openness.
This approach, of course, offers no guarantee against relationship scarring even among Christians. However, it does offer a more transparent way of healing our self-inflicted wounds upon the body of Christ. This is much better than just moving from church to church or getting rid of staff for unexplainable reasons. In this I readily acknowledge that because I am in community with and being led by broken individuals, I cannot expect to never be wounded. Nor can I expect that I will never deliver a wound because I, too, am broken. As such, I do understand that continuing in this community will require me to extend love, grace and mercy to others, just as they extend it towards me.
We are not called to lives of perfection on this side of eternity. We do not have the right to expect to come through this life unscarred and unwounded. God in Christ Jesus gave us the model for dealing with sin and forgiveness. Only through love, grace and mercy can the relationship scars we receive and deliver become the marks of true spiritual community.
©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)