- by Holli Long -
(Written in response to Rachel Held Evan’s Why Millennials are leaving the church on CNN’s Belief Blog.)
I found myself nodding out loud while reading a recent piece by Rachel Held Evans on the CNN Belief Blog this week. This is not an unusual phenomenon for me while reading something she has written. For so many of us with serious qulams about the mainline Christian message, Evans is the writer who can put our jumbled thoughts and complex emotions into the crystal clear.
At this point in the article, I almost stood up and said, “Amen!”
You can’t hand us a latte and then go about business as usual and expect us to stick around. We’re not leaving the church because we don’t find the cool factor there; we’re leaving the church because we don’t find Jesus there.
We don’t find Jesus there. Bam. There it is. It’s either that, or the version of Jesus we do find there is not one who loves us or who loves our neighbors.
I did not grow up in the Church. I was an outsider of sorts. I went to Sunday school with a friend here or there and often on the holidays, but I never really connected beyond that. I also grew up in a very small, very conservative Midwestern town. And while there are many things I love about small-town America, and my hometown in particular, I did not fall in love with the Jesus I found there.
Then, while away at college and rounding out my liberal arts degree, I took a class called “The Bible as Literature.” And it changed my life.
The professor was brilliant. And by brilliant, I mean, the type of professor for whom major universities create lifetime achievement awards. A modern-day prophet who brought the book to life, he didn’t shy away from (or explain away) the hard parts. His lecture on The Book of Job and the nature of human suffering was an anthem for social justice and a call to action which I will never forget. And even though we focused on the Old Testament in his class, it may have been the first time I really saw Jesus.
To this day, I do not know the faith identity of my professor. But his passion for the word, for the story, was captivating. And it is where I first found Jesus. Not in a sanctuary, but in a college lecture hall. Not in a pew, but in an auditorium folding chair. Not from a pastor, but from a liberal arts professor.
And I’ve been searching ever since. I’ve caught glimpses along the way as my husband (at first) dragged me to church each Sunday. There were sightings in a young adult Sunday school class, while chaperoning a youth mission trip to Appalachia or a camping trip in the Georgia mountains, in conversations with friends about faith, in blog posts, in books, and in hearing the stories of others. And now, thankfully, I find Jesus in an actual church building where I am fully welcomed to ask those real questions that don’t always have answers, where I am invited to wrestle along side.
But still, almost everywhere I look, I see Christianity pushing a different message. An anti-gay, anti-immigrant, anti-science, anti-woman, anti-”other” message, and it scares me. It scares me because I don’t know how many of us have the patience to wait until we find a building where Jesus might also be welcomed. Instead, we find ourselves turned away for the very same reasons Jesus might stand by our side, and we don’t come back.
For too long it has the loudest, but maybe not the most Christ-like, voices being heard. But the good news is that there are “other” voices rising. While their song may still be too soft for some ears now, there is a slow and steady crescendo taking place within the movement. As I begin seminary this fall, I hope that I might, in some small way, add to the rising choir. For it will take many voices to drown out that same old song.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but it’s time for a new song.
They will know we are Christians by our love…
. . .