dear church: letters from a disillusioned generation

I have met many a person in the past few years who are extremely dissatisfied with the way things are going in their local congregations. Time and time again these people express a profound disappointment in ‘Church’, a disappointment so deep that they wonder if it is even worthwhile to talk about it.

This may explain why I got such joy from reading Sarah Cunningham’s Dear Church: Letters from a Disillusioned Generation. In this book Sarah attempts to write to the larger ‘Church’ (by this she means all those who affiliate themselves with some sort of organised religion) in the voice of all those who are disappointed, or disillusioned with the ‘Church’.

Throughout the book Sarah attempts to explain to those who may not understand just what the younger generation is experiencing in their church life. She expresses their disappointment with the exclusivity, inauthenticity, and requirements of the ‘Church’.

When discussing the problems associated with our tendency to exclude those who do not look or act like us, she says that the only entrance requirement to any Christian community should be belief; simple, basic, belief in the one God has sent. Now, I agree with Sarah that we need to be less discriminating on who we associate with, and who we extend the good news of God’s grace to. However, to shrink the gospel down to “just believe” does not do anyone any good. The next question will always be, “Believe what?”

Even though there are times that Sarah seems to oversimplify things a bit, she does not leave the reader wallowing in worry about the disillusioned generation. Without ignoring the critiques she outlines, she moves on to finding a solution. This solution, believe it or not, includes NOT leaving the community we are disillusioned with. Rather than running for the door or settling in to endure disillusionment, she encourages commitment and work when the going gets rough.

The book may be best summed up in the following quote.

Disillusionment with the way things are in the church can also inspire us to improve and deepen our involvement in Christ’s mission.

While Sarah may tend to simplify things a bit, especially in the face of some of the harder critiques, in an age and culture that tends to complain from the sidelines, this book a breath of fresh air.

dear church chapters 11-14

I know, I know, I said I would go through these chapters one at a time, but frankly with the birth of my second child I have not had the time. So, rather than drop the project altogether I thought I would give a brief over view of these last chapters. More than that I want to interact with the book as a whole.

Sarah begins chapter 11 (the most responsible letter yet) , and really the last bit of the book, trying to address the question “should the disillusioned stick with their local congregations?”

Should I end this correspondence with a flight attendant-like spiel that points the disillusioned to their church’s nearest emergency exit? Or should I encourage them to strap on their seat belts and learn to use their oxygen masks so they can weather more of their church’s turbulent flights?

She spends the rest of the book saying that really there is something in between that is more to the point. Those who are disillusioned with the church should not simply run for the door, nor should they simply settle in to endure what is going on. They should get involved!

Fancy that!

Now, all facetiousness aside, this is an important thing to note. It is important for those who are not satisfied with what is going on within the Christian community to speak up, stand up, and make a difference.

This may mean going to a different church; one that is more open to change. But is most likely means simply getting more involved, and working to maintain vision. The biggest problem I see for the church of the future is that those who are disillusioned simply become numb and continue on the same road.

This is perhaps the best thing that we can get from this book. It is good, and even right to be disillusioned. However, the disillusionment, or disappointment should lead somewhere (and not necessarily out of the church). Growth does not happen without change, and even a little pain. The book is perhaps summed up best in this quote.

Disillusionment with the way things are in the church can also inspire us to improve and deepen our involvement in Christ’s mission.

dear church chapter 10

In this chapter of Dear Church: Letters from a disillusioned generation, Sarah Cunningham points out that disillusionment with the church is not a new thing, and should not be an immediate sign to run for the hills. Right from the beginning things were not as rosy as we might have hoped.

the first guy to use the word church in reference to God’s community of followers was also Jesus. In Matthew 16:18, Jesus called Peter the Rock on which he would build his church.

But here’s the clincher. Jesus exact words were :”And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hell (hades) will not overcome it.”

Don’t you find it interesting that the very first time Jesus uses the word church, he sensed the need to point out that hell cannot defeat it?

It’s almost as if Jesus knew that the church was going to have a hard road ahead of it. That the church might sometimes look like it was going under.

The Church is still the way to come to know Jesus and God. It is not perfect, but it is the only option we have. We just have to work at making it work.

dear church chapter 9

In chapter eight of Dear Church: Letters from a disillusioned generation, Sarah Cunningham relates how we are (at least partially) responsible for our disillusionment. If we continue to feed it, then we are ensuring that we remain unhappy.

When we are faced with doing this, however, we think that we deserve some sort of apology. We are running away from church because we have been hurt by it in the past. We may or may not be literally running away (we might simply be closing ourselves off while we warm the pew), but we have found a way to become bitter and selfish, thinking that the others in the church owe us something.

While this is true, if we have been hurt we deserve an apology, it may not be forth coming. Does this mean that there is nothing we can do to release the pain and bitterness we feel?

Sarah says that the first step to being released from our pain is to recognise our own complicity in the pain of others.

I felt this way [like a victim] because, for a while, I was convinced that someone, somewhere owed me an apology (or at the very least, an explanation) for how the church has failed me. As a result of my logic, my emotions were full of bitterness: I felt used, I felt abandoned, I felt misled.

One day in a moment of dark reflection, a friend asked me, “Why do you feel like you need someone to give you an explanation for your disappointments?”

I staggered backward.

Why did I need an explanation? Why was I letting my own peace depend on other people’s willingness to express regret for the pain I had experienced?

This is an important thing to remember. When we play the victim, our happiness depends on other people’s willingness to cater to our feelings. Since people are notoriously self-centred (including us) others will not often pay attention to our hurts, and we will feel even more disappointed than before.

Sarah realised that she had to do something about the pain that she was feeling. If she felt as though she needed an apology, then other people probably have the same need.

The more I thought about the idea, the more real it became to me. I found myself wanting to help resolve the sorrow attached to so many people’s interactions with the church. I wanted to tell as many people as I could, face-to-face, “This pain and rejection is not what God intended for you to experience in Christian community. Please forgive us for the times when we have failed to act like the community of Jesus-followers we claim to be.”

So, as a member of the church, as a newly appointed leader of a specific congregation, and as a forgiven child of God, I want to say sorry to all those who I have hurt. There are many times in which I have not lived up to the potential that God has given me. There are many times when I think of myself first and others come in a distant second. There are things I have done which have no doubt scarred them and turned them away from God and Jesus.

I am sorry.

It is easy to focus on how others in the church could apologise to us, rather than owning our own role and failures as we live church to the world around us.

dear church chapter 8

So, we have seen that sometimes a commitment to a church should be made even though we are disappointed, or disillusioned with it. Sarah Cunningham, in chapter seven, compares a commitment to the church like a commitment to a marriage; for better or worse.

In this chapter  (chapter Sarah recognises that she has not always remained faithful, or taken her own advice.

Call me a fair-weather friend. A bandwagon Christian. A wishy-washy believer. I have attempted-more than once- to abandon you, Church. However, as it turns out, I am not particularly successful at running away.

In many ways this reminds me of how many of us act when we are children. I remember when I was about nine or ten I decided I was going to run away from home. I packed my things in a suitcase and headed out the door (not before telling my mum that I was running away). I hoped on my bicycle and began to pedal down the road.

The problem was that I lived on a farm out in the country. The nearest neighbour to us was at least two miles away. My grandpa, who I was running to, lived about a half an hour car ride away. I would have to cycle seven miles of gravel, and then about twenty more miles of paved secondary roads to get there. At ten years old that seemed insurmountable.Never-the-less I started down the road, carrying my suitcase in one hand, steering with the other.

I made it about a mile down the road before I collapsed in exhaustion. I decided the effort it would take was too great, and went back home.

It was not perfect at home, and it took effort to continue to have a good relationship with my parents and my sisters (this was particularly difficult since I have two older sisters who thought they could boss me around). Over all, however, the effort was rewarded.

What I found particularly refreshing about this chapter is Sarah’s reminder that growth comes through hard times. Very rarely do things change when everything is going well. A marriage does not develop if there are no difficulties. A Church does not grow if everything runs smoothly. Perhaps the answer is not to run away, but to commit to staying and making a difference.

When we expect progress to be painless and easy, we set ourselves up for disappointment. It is often when we push through the darkness that we see the opportunities to grow and improve we never would have seen in the light.

Darkness makes the light seem brighter.