Orlando (How to Leave a Church pt. 3)

[I wrote this in June/July of 2016, as a response to a sermon that was (sort of) delivered at RICC by a former pastor. I did not publish it at the time because I let fear take control.  I apologize to anyone who thought they were alone in feeling this way, especially if you felt like the target was on your back. More thoughts after the letter. - 2023 Rob]

[It should go without saying that this is a work of fiction on my part, but perhaps it's better if I just say it: this is me trying to understand how someone could agree with the pastor's approach. - 2016 Rob]

June 20, 2016

Dear Pastor:

Let me start by saying that I was a bit worried about how you would handle the Orlando incident* this week, especially when I saw the verses you had chosen for the sermon: Romans 8:28 "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose." You hadn't mentioned it last week, but it had been just the night before. By this past Sunday we have all had a week to think about it, and I was curious how you would approach it.

* This was a pretty big incident. From the Wikipedia article: "On June 12, 2016, Omar Mateen, a 29-year-old man, killed 49 people and wounded 53 more in a mass shooting at Pulse, a gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida, United States. Orlando Police officers shot and killed him after a three-hour standoff... It is the deadliest incident in the history of violence against LGBT people in the United States, surpassing the UpStairs Lounge arson attack in 1973, the deadliest terrorist attack in the United States since the September 11 attacks, and was the deadliest mass shooting by a single gunman in U.S. history until the 2017 Las Vegas shooting."

I mean, you can't just come right out and say that those homos being killed was a good thing, even though that is clearly what Paul is telling us here. Some members of the congregation might get offended if you said that gunman was working for God's good will. The bleeding hearts might even suggest that some of those dead homos loved God, even though their twisted lifestyle surely testifies (sorry, testified) that they don't.

Then I thought, "Maybe he's going to spin Orlando as a warning to the survivors to turn from their wicked ways, so that they don't die and go to hell." That is one reason God sends punishment, right? When God let that entire generation of Jews die off before entering the Promised Land (because they were cowards), it was a warning to the next generation! "Shape up and follow The Lord, or else!" I know, they didn't do a very good job of that. But what do you expect from such a "stiff-necked" people, right?

But you didn't go there. When you pointed out that this Bible verse is not a positive message for every human being, but only those who are "called according to His purpose," I knew it was coming! The gays in that bar were clearly not called according to God's purpose, so they serve as a counterexample! Here it comes!

But you didn't make the connection. Again. God is judging them right in front of the world, and you didn't point it out. I was mystified.

You got to the end of the sermon, reminded us that without Jesus we are nothing, and that we believers should have faith that all things work for good in our lives, even if we can't see it. Then you prayed. You hadn't brought up the dead homos even once.

But by the end of your prayer I realized the genius of what you had just done: You had demonstrated that the 50 homos who died in Orlando didn't matter enough to be worth mentioning at all in relation to this scripture! We all had a whole week to mull over the shooting at that queer club, and we found that they weren't any more worthy of mention than the pig who died for the pork soup we had for lunch after church! Genius! It reminded me that what you don't say is sometimes more important than what you do say!

Westborough has the right idea, but they're doing it all wrong! The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference! And if we know for a fact that the homosexuals have turned their back on God, losing the right to His love, then we know what the proper response is to their grief.

Silence.

Sincerely,

A Church Member

Some thoughts (in 2023) on this unsent response

First of all, I have revised this piece in an attempt to make the messaging more clear. I added the Wikipedia reference footnote, but also tried to sharpen the language to make the viewpoint clearer. I was also not happy with the signature, so I went simple. There is a bit of the Strawman to this Church Member, but the past few years have shown that there are more men like him than we care to admit.

I can clearly see the Rob's Gallery at work in this piece: Firebrand and The Joker got together with Encyclopedia Sack to craft this satire. I was aiming to skewer a target just over the shoulder of the audience, forcing them to question the wisdom of standing near that target. 

Then Bridge Builder stepped in and declared that publishing this would be burning a bridge too far (he likes bridge metaphors). He had the backing of Sympathetic, and Imposter Syndrome is always ready to fight for inaction. But they were not alone. Whispering from the shadows was Fear. Fear of being branded different, a heretic. Fear of being rejected, ejected from the church. Fear of losing my standing. In hindsight, fear was a near constant companion during my time at RICC. I wonder how many other people attending feel that way. ("ONLY YOU!" screams Syndrome, but everyone else shrugs and puts him back in his corner.)

Looking back at this letter, the accusation of weaponizing silence seems particularly accurate. In one of my last conversations with the pastor of RICC, I asked him to consider what role I might play at RICC moving forward. I asked him to pray about it, and listen to the Holy Spirit.

I should have left it at that, but Firebrand was fed up with being in the back seat. He reached forward and grabbed the wheel: "I don't believe that you are very sensitive to the Holy Spirit, pastor, but maybe you will prove me wrong."

I never received a response. I know the excuses: a pastor is always busy. Other things come up, and the back burner gets further back. Another excuse is that I never followed up, but the last I checked I was in the low position in the power dynamic. Maybe I was supposed to grovel. Beg for crumbs. Or maybe the pastor just didn't give a shit.

More than 10 years of service, from music to prayer to teaching to tech. Apparently none of it was worthy. I am the first to admit that letting Firebrand speak may have burnt the bridge, but when a pastor is incapable of forgiving a few harsh words from someone who has served and supported and loved for so long, maybe they don't really need an excuse to scrape you off and put you out with the trash.

I was pissed at the silence RICC showed after the shooting up of Pulse in Orlando. They were happy to rant about gay marriage becoming legal, and how it was destroying American society, but dead gay bodies were not worth commenting on. But I remained silent, because I wasn't gay. I was silent again and again, and then my silence caught up with me.

They know it works. Maybe they don't know that it works because it hurts.

How to Leave a Church, part 2

"I was a poker player. And in the most public way, I was a poker player. Even though I was spending most of my time doing speaking and consulting, my public face, the way that people knew me, and the way I identified myself, was as a poker player. And if there's one thing that I learned from writing this book, the hardest thing to walk away from is who you are. That's the most difficult thing we ever face."

Annie Duke, from the podcast "People I Mostly Admire" episode 93: Annie Duke Thinks You Should Quit. (Annie Duke's episode of PIMA on Apple Podcasts)

I heard this a few days ago. (Well, probably more than a few, at the rate I compose these things. It was December 13th, 2022. I shudder to think of when I will hit the publish button.) I immediately paused the podcast, and let it dwell in my mind. It was not exactly a comfortable thought, but it felt like a necessary one.

I downloaded and read a sample of her book from Amazon.com. It's a self-help book, complete with exercises for you to fill in. I found it to be thought provoking, though the sample was not connected to the quote above.

This idea of walking away from who you are is a tough one. I have found that walking away from myself as a leader of RICC* has been a tough trip, and not one that I had a say in taking. I was told directly by RICC's pastor at a private, scheduled meeting, that I was no longer welcome to lead small groups, and would not be asked to preach again.** This judgement came after I had served at RICC for ten years in various roles: leading many Life Groups***, teaching Sunday school, preaching 18 sermons between June 2017 and August 2020, leading and working on the team that does slides for worship, singing and playing my euphonium with the praise team, working on the welcome team, helping to coordinate our Covid response and online worship, organizing and leading a few special services, and I'm sure some other stuff. I was also on the leadership team that met every month, but apparently not on the leadership team that decides who gets asked to not be on the leadership team.

*Redeemer International Community Church, the only independent English church (that I know of) in Busan, South Korea.

**Putting this in writing in a public space is unsettling. It's making my stomach sink. I'm still not sure whether it's a roller-coaster sink or an oh-crap-I-might-die sink, even though it was 11 months ago. Well, it was in February 2022, so probably more than 11 months.

***The official name for our outside-of-church meetings to study the Bible and "live life together." RICC doesn't usually have adult "Sunday School" time on Sunday, so this is the work-around.

This journey has made me more aware than ever of the versions of myself that make up who I am. I am going to introduce you to the Rouge's Gallery of Robs, but first I have to warn you: some of this is going to get raw. Like if I were a celebrity, I might get cancelled over it. I am not exactly crying havoc and letting loose the dogs of war, but I am going to let you get right up close to their cages.

The Firebrand version of me has demanded over and over that I do my best to tear down RICC. He demands justice. Not just for me, but for everyone who has quietly walked away from the only independent Christian church in Busan. Firebrand wants to demand his inheritance (all the money I have given over the years will do, since I can't get the damn time back) like the prodigal son, if only to provoke a negative response to rage at. He figures that we could circulate a petition to change the constitution so that the leadership structure of RICC is more democratic, so that we (me and Firebrand) could be elected. And maybe a woman or two. And a homosexual, for sure. Along the way, sowing seeds of dissent against elder-for-life M., and the pastor basically appointed by former elder J. (J's words, not mine!). Calling attention to the black-box decision making machine, and the condescending attitude towards members of the church, which is still better than the way they treat non-members. Starting some much needed, cleansing fire. "Some men just want to watch the world burn," Alfred says of the Joker in The Dark Knight. Firebrand demands justice, but I wonder if maybe he's just looking for a target.

Wow. It's funny how writing about him feeds him, makes his voice louder. I have written and cut more rants out of his section than any other. He would be happy to lay out the rest of the plan, work on some details, then cut the whole thing into a document that is definitely not going on the Roblog. Because a plan like this works best if it is secret. Would it be gaslighting to start rumors about how the leadership misuses church finances? I would only be asking questions, not actually saying anything like that. Firebrand has a shaky relationship with ethics, and he firmly believes that the end justify the means.

Bridge Builder (BB*) is the main opposition to Firebrand, and darn near always wins out. BB wants to see everyone get along, and is willing to put in work and sacrifice himself to make it happen. BB is a natural part of me, but he is pretty high maintenance. BB's first thought after being ousted was "Ya know, you could still be friends with the pastor. In fact, now we could be actual friends, without the boundary of me being a member and him being the pastor. In fact, maybe there's room for me to be a sort of mentor to him!"

* I considered Rob the Builder, but it feels like copyright infringement and a trigger to parents with kids who were fans of Bob the Builder.

BB is always optimistic. At times ridiculously so. BB is always willing to forgive, even when it makes me look like a complete fool. BB extends grace to people who haven't earned it. BB wants to get everyone involved. BB doesn't like to see people treated badly, but will accept bad treatment to make things work out well for everyone. BB still holds out hope that reconciliation will happen between me and RICC, and may never really give up that hope.

The Imposter version of me (Syndrome, of course) wants to meekly accept this as my just desserts. I pushed back against The Leadership, and got exactly what I deserved. How exactly I pushed, and what rules I broke are not exactly clear, but what is clear is that I never really deserved any sort of leadership position in the first place. I had a lot of nerve even bringing it up. This is the guy who tells me it's all for the best. That all the compliments I've received over the years were just people being charitable, not giving me what I really deserved. Good preaching? Well it was fun, and well delivered, but did I really express God's will? I might have even convinced some people that churches are inherently messy and just joining one is asking for trouble. 

The Intellectual version of me (Encyclopedia Sack... now that's a name I haven't heard in a long time...) goes completely analytical: the rules that this church put in place for itself, the conservatism borrowed directly from American Southern Baptist theology meant that it was inevitable that someone with a more liberal understanding of scripture and faith would either self-deport or come into conflict. The intellectual understands that people in power have a natural tendency to hold onto that power, even though they will justify it by pleading theology. Encyclopedia Sack (E.S.) can see the arrogance as being natural, and human. In fact, ES is often the first to point it out in me.

The Sympathetic version of me is always looking to better understand the elders of RICC. He doesn't see what they did as right, but he understands why they make their decisions. (Or at least he thinks he does. - E.S.) He knows that to them, protecting God's Word and Church is top priority, and anything that threatens either one needs to be dealt with. They don't like church discipline, but view it as necessary to maintain integrity. In their hermeneutic there is only one way to understand any given scripture, so if you connect all the dots, read the right Biblical Scholars (who happen to be the ones who agree with you! - E.S.) then no matter how unpleasant the conclusion you come to, it must be correct. Sympathetic me is not just guessing at this, it's what I heard from the pastor. Sympathetic harbors no suspicion, and accepts what he is told at face value. Sympathetic says (in my head, and out loud to the pastor), "It's understandable that you got rid of me. I even feel bad for you having to do that. I don't want to hurt you, or RICC."

The Joker (who is not a smoker, but occasionally indulges in midnight toking) is the version of me who lives for the laugh. If The Joker had managed to lay claim to about 10% more of my mental make-up, I might have become a stand-up comedian instead of just a teacher/preacher/friend who is occasionally amusing. The Joker gets a lot of lines cut from everything I write, including this post. I thought about giving him a name other than the one held by Batman's nemesis, but it's important to remember that my Joker carries a razor in his shoe and hangs out with Firebrand. Even after years of training by Sympathetic and BB, the Joker still occasionally teams up with Firebrand to cut someone else, or he joins Syndrome to cut me. In my RICC situation, the Joker has been dying to tell this one:

So this guy dies and goes to Heaven, and St. Peter gives him the grand tour. The guy asks him, "Who are those people having a huge party with dancing and music and all the fun?" 

Peter replies, "They are the sinners who had given up hope of being here. They are so happy that they haven't let up since they arrived."

Next the guy asks Peter about the group of people who are sitting in a huge church, participating in an orderly worship service, joy on their faces. "Lutherans," Peter replied. "They figure it got them this far, why not continue?"

The guy is astounded at the variety of communities he sees, until he comes to a wall surrounding an area, with "Quiet Please!" signs posted every ten feet. Peter shushes the guy, and says, "Try to keep quiet around the RICC compound. They think they're the only ones in here!"

If you didn't find that funny, try changing RICC to whatever self-righteous exclusive religion you prefer. If you can't think of one, you are probably in one.

Did I mention that the Joker has a razor in his shoe? In his other shoe he has an axe.

I know. That was a bit brutal. I considered just talking about the Joker, rather than giving him a voice, but my intention is to be honest here, with myself and with you. And the Joker is part of who I am, as are BB, Firebrand, Sympathetic, ES, and Syndrome. I like to think that "I" (whatever that means) affect them, but their growth and change over the years seem to be mostly independent of my will. I get some control over who is in charge, but I don't get to fire anyone.

I can't quit these guys. These guys are who I am. Well, part of who I am. There is also Teacher (who believe it or not goes by "Robert!" So formal, right?), Daddy (the namesake of Roblog's address, and a name that will likely morph into "Dad" before too long), Husband ("Honey" on a good day, "Yah!" on a bad), and Friend (just "Rob," but you know that). Most of the time I suppose the inside of my head is like the bridge on Star Trek, or the Pixar movie Inside Out, with different aspects of me taking command at different times, but rarely getting a chance to pilot solo. 

When you dig all the way down, though, you find the same thing that you find in all of us: the image of God. Blurred. Corrupted. Maybe you want to divide my gallery into angels and demons, or yin and yang. Creation and Destruction, Hope and Fear. The Light Side and The Dark Side. You might be tempted to label members of the Rob's Gallery as one or the other, but I refuse to do so. They are me, and I love them all. Even the troublemakers.

And to be perfectly clear: in my mind there is only one clear voice. My voice. The me inside me.