Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Mid-Week Lent Series - When Church Hurts #2

Last week we talked about King David’s betrayal of those around him, from Bathsheba to Uriah to Joab, and how, because he was both the spiritual and military leader of Israel, his actions were a betrayal of the entire community of Israel. We also talked about how he also betrayed God, and even himself.

When Church Hurts, it is because someone from within the community has betrayed the values of the community. In the church, we value love, respect, seeing the other as made in the image of God. We value putting the needs of others above our own, we value following in the way of Christ. And so when someone in the church, who is trusted and loved, does something contrary to those values, not only are we as individuals betrayed, but so is the community, and so is God, and so is that person. Whether these are big betrayals or small things, when it becomes clear that the values of the church––love, serving, seeing God in the other––have been compromised, we are deeply hurt.

This hurt often takes us by surprise, because we think that either these things shouldn’t happen, or that, because we are forgiving people, we shouldn’t feel hurt. But the Bible tells us differently. I’m going to read our Scripture for today, which comes from the Gospel of Matthew. It’s the story of the arrest of Jesus, and as I read it, I invite you to imagine what the disciples might have been feeling when this happened and listen to the reactions to Judas’s betrayal of Jesus, remembering that up until this point, Judas had been one of the inner twelve, who deeply loved and was loved by Jesus, and was an integral part of that community.

Matthew 26:47-56

So what do you think the disciples might have been feeling when all of this happened?

What are some of the feelings we have when someone in the church is betrayed, or betrays another?
  • ashamed
  • alone
  • guilty
  • angry
  • afraid
  • inferior
  • anxious
  • confused
  • BROKEN
These feelings of brokenness manifest in outward ways.

What did you notice about how people in the Gospel reading reacted to Judas’ betrayal of Jesus?
  • One of the disciples drew a sword and attacked
  • The disciples all deserted him and fled
  • Others did nothing
There are three reactions when the relationships in our community are suddenly broken––fight or flight or freeze. These are rooted in our amygdala, the part of our brain that controls our physical responses to threats. The amygdala is what has kept us alive as a human species, and there is very little we can do to control it. 

And so in our Gospel reading, as the community is breaking up, we see one of the disciples lashing out. He fights. He cuts someone else. How many times do we do that when we are betrayed? How often, when experiencing hurt, do we lash out, or cut people with our words when we don’t mean to, people who maybe didn’t even have anything to do with the betrayal? Notice that the disciple cuts off the ear of the slave of the high priest. The slave had nothing to do with anything of this. The disciple doesn’t cut off Judas’ ear, who we might argue deserved it. The disciple attacks out of fear and hurt, and an innocent person get hurt. How many times have we seen or experienced that when a church is hurt?

Then there is the flight response. The disciples fled. Their community had been broken in a most violent way, by one of their own, and their response was to run away. Again, this is not a judgment against them, just noting that their response is one we’ve probably had as well. We know that people leave when church hurts. But leaving can take other forms, too. We might still attend church, but we might leave emotionally or spiritually. We can isolate ourselves emotionally from others in the church, either on purpose or just because we find conversations about certain topics to be too overwhelming. We retreat in order to tend to our wounds alone.

And finally there is the freeze response, which has only recently been added to the fight or flight model. When we look at our Gospel story, it might occur to you that in addition to Jesus and Judas and the disciple with the sword, there are ten other disciples who do nothing. They see everything unfolding in front of their eyes, and they might as well not even be there. They say nothing, they do nothing, in fact their fleeing at the end is almost an afterthought. It’s entirely possible that they are desperately hoping that Judas won’t see them and kiss them, too. Perhaps they’re hoping that if they stay completely still, they can escape the violence directed at Jesus. They’ve just seen their community broken, but perhaps they can avoid themselves being smashed into smithereens.

This last is how most people respond when church hurts, especially when that hurt is caused by a leader. We freeze. We don’t engage. We stay silent, and we encourage others to stay silent, too. We recognize that something is broken, we ourselves may feel cracks beginning to form in ourselves, but we stay still in the hope that nothing falls apart further. We hope that if we carry on as usual, eventually the brokenness will fade away and wholeness will be restored.

Except that that doesn’t work. When relationships within a community are broken, they rarely heal. Fighting either deepens the break or causes other relationships to break, fleeing leaves the wounds open, and freezing leaves scars.

It is not our actions, but God in Christ who acts to make us truly whole, who brings us healing in the face of the things that have broken us. When King David was himself betrayed by Saul, early in his life, he is said to have written Psalm 55, where he laments that it is a dear friend who has turned on him, “my equal, my companion, my familiar friend, with whom I kept pleasant company; we walked in the house of God.” In his pain, David says, “But I call upon God, and the Lord will save me. Evening and morning and at noon I utter my complaint and moan, and he will hear my voice.” “My companion laid hands on a friend and violated a covenant with me with speech smoother than butter, but with a heart set on war; with words that were softer than oil, but in fact were drawn swords.” And then David says, “Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you.”

God invites us to bring our brokenness to God, who is our true healer. Only God can heal the community, and only God can heal each of us in the community so that our relationships are restored. Generations of the faithful who have gone before us have experienced this, and so we have reason to trust that this is true for us as well. God created us, God sustains us, and God heals us.


When you came in this evening, you each took a broken piece of pottery. Broken pieces are a bit dangerous, they can cut you if you’re not careful. As our activity, I’d like you to hold that piece gently, and think of a time when you have been hurt in church or hurt someone else, or a time when you’ve seen hurt and fought or fled or froze. I invite you to imagine that time, and all the feelings that you had, flowing out of you and into that piece of pottery. And then, whenever you’re ready––if you’re ready, because maybe you aren’t ready today––rather than fight or flee or freeze, I invite you to bring that broken piece forward, bring your brokenness forward, and place the piece in the bowl in front of the font, and entrust your brokenness to God. Allow God to hold onto your brokenness for you, so that you no longer need to bear the burden of it, so that God can sustain you, and work healing in you.

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