Our Experience at Redeemer Fellowship, Kansas City: Part 4
“Choosing to expose an abuser, especially one with power, carries great risk. There are many strong motivations for a victim to never tell their story. Therefore, when a victim does speak out, it is usually because they are in desperate need of help or are concerned that other might be in harm’s way and are compelled to act despite the risks.” — Something’s Not Right by Wade Mullen, page 98
For me, it’s the latter.
In the next six weeks there would be a rapid succession of events.
To provide some background and context, at this time I had started working for Be the Bridge, a racial literacy and reconciliation organization. The core of my work there was to help white people who were brand new to even thinking about race and racism have an on ramp to learning that took the weight and pressure off BIPOC to do so.
We had multiple meetings with pastors and elders — primarily Kris and Gregory, attempting the work of reconciliation, and getting to a place where we believed all we needed was time to build trust. I was very cautiously optimistic and willing to believe what I was told, that we were loved and appreciated and things would be different moving forward. It wouldn’t be until later that I learned we were concurrently openly discussed and disparaged at employee meetings, maligned to other members, and gossiped about regularly.
Redeemer hosted a dessert night for people of color and their families in the church to speak openly about their experiences to the pastors. I sat silently in support of my friends who braved attending and speaking openly. After a night of pouring out pain and experience, with a particular effort from many to explain they couldn’t be their full selves at Redeemer, Kevin ended the evening asking them why they were waiting for permission to do so and to go ahead and do it! This invalidation of the rest of the night’s work was clear on every face I looked at, and in conversations afterward. I offered my friends to be the one to raise the issue with leadership, was taken up on that offer, and when I did so with Kris, was told I was being too critical and not thankful enough for their willingness to even have the listening session in the first place. Why did I feel the need to be so contrarian? Why isn’t anything they do ever enough for me?
While men were given regular “mens retreats” and leadership trainings and the like, women had to charge admission for any sort of event that would be hosted for them. Elders weekends away would flow with expensive liquor and food while women were told the church could not afford childcare for a women’s Bible study so single moms and others who needed it could be sure to attend. Pastor’s wives would be cc’d on emails if they were coming just to me from a pastor, supposedly for accountability, but without my permission. The worth of women was clear.
I would write the curriculum and offer up a class for white women at Redeemer who wanted to start engaging in the conversations around race and racism, but felt ill equipped and overwhelmed by where to start. The class was originally (and enthusiastically by some pastors) going to be held at the church after too many women signed up to fit in my living room. Two weeks before the class was to start we were told it could not be held at the church for logistical reasons. My husband was eventually able to get the truth out of them; they didn’t trust me, they didn’t want me to teach the class at all.
I would be asked to cancel the class altogether as it wasn’t the “way forward” the elders wanted to go for the church, even though I was now hosting it completely on my own and it was in no way associated with the church at that point. I didn’t cancel, a local Jewish community center graciously offered up their space for free and had some interested employees and volunteers join, and in fact I am still in contact with many women who took the class to this day. Based on post-class surveys and many follow-up emails, they left encouraged and thankful, feeling empowered and capable of understanding current events.
The week we were slated to start attending a new small group led by some of our closest friends, they were called and told to let us know we weren’t going to be able to be members of their group. When they said no, we aren’t going to do that, Ricky would have to call my husband to break the news to us himself. We were told we would not be allowed to be members of any small group at the church based on the fractured relationship with the leaders who had taken over our old small group. At the time, we still didn’t know they had been told something entirely different than us. The relationship was fractured because of the lies we were all told. But apparently, this was our fault and meant we weren’t allowed to be full members of the church.
And finally, something I said in the Be the Bridge Facebook group would be seen by a white woman attending Redeemer, then screenshot by Brian, and finally shared amongst the entire church staff deciding it was me speaking ill of Redeemer. The comment was concerning white churches hiring BIPOC, but only if they fit the already existing culture and don’t rock the boat. I would be told the way they handled it was Biblical even while being lied to about what actually happened, getting multiple different renditions from multiple different people. This would be the straw that would break the camel’s back.
It was decided by Kris and Gregory we must immediately meet again. They refused to believe me that the comment wasn’t specifically about Redeemer and their hiring of a new pastor, a Black man I did not know personally at all. It was decided my comment was about some Black people not being “Black enough”, and that my words harmed those Black people in leadership at the church who read them, something I confirmed was not true.
They didn’t want to accept my explanation or my offer to apologize to anyone who may have been hurt thinking it was. They were also angry that I didn’t outright extol the virtues and efforts put forth by Redeemer when it comes to racial justice within that comment in the Facebook group. They were mad I made a generic comment about the broad tendency of white church hiring practices, and even more furious that I didn’t list out what Redeemer itself was doing, so much so that they made a list in the email of what I should have said. Yes, Kris wrote out what my comment should have said in a private Facebook group, for the organization I work for.
The meeting happened late one Sunday night with Kris and Gregory. My husband had been out of town for 11 days while I was home with our four small children, we had just learned we wouldn’t be able to be in a small group anymore, and we were processing the betrayal of their actions, but still, we agreed to meet. It was the soonest we could make it happen and they did not give space to postpone it to a better time. So a three hour long, emergency meeting happened at 9 pm on a Sunday night predicated on that single sentence in a private Facebook group.
My husband would begin the meeting by reading a letter, some excerpts from that letter are as follows:
I feel like all that we worked through over the past several months has been torn down by the way we have been treated over the last week. We wondered whether you had our backs when others assumed malicious intent.
Kris’s email contained what I believe to be a grenade “I want to give you the benefit of the doubt on your intent, but . . . .”
I do not believe we agreed to “want to” give one another the benefit of the doubt, I believe we agreed to actually give one another the benefit of the doubt. I felt like this showed immense disrespect and distrust toward Elizabeth and me.
[In a lunch] after our email exchange, [Gregory] looked me in the eyes and told me [he] ‘very strongly’ doubted that Elizabeth’s statement wasn’t taking a shot at Redeemer.
In our meetings, Elizabeth shared she felt like she bore a scarlet letter that justified others assuming the worst in her. I do not believe that letter has been returned, I feel as if it was never removed.
Hours of discussion followed filled with tone policing and gas lighting, my words taken out of context and twisted; essentially a culmination of the last few years at the church. I reached a point where I felt I was watching what was happening from outside my own body. My brain was attempting to protect me from this onslaught. When I brought up being kept from joining a small group, Kris would look me in the eye and comment snidely “it’s pretty telling when someone is having issues in multiple areas of a church”.
He thought it was a jab at me; I saw it for what it was. This was not an issue of them dealing with race poorly, though they were, this was a leadership model that was broken and abusive. What I was experiencing at that moment was spiritual abuse. The constant refrain of them telling us how loved we were as this was happening was a battering ram to my soul. If that is love, then who would want to ever experience it?
I would finally decide it was time to read what I had written out in preparation directly to them. Here’s some portions of it:
I feel that I am not believed and that the “repeated pattern” you speak of is actually a repeated pattern of assuming the worst of me. I’m curious if when the concern was raised about the post by an unnamed white person, rather than counsel that person to seek peace in the body and come to me directly, it was decided that it was a matter of pastoral concern. This makes me wonder a couple things. First, am I still viewed in a negative light despite my repeated attempts to be open, vulnerable, and transparent with leadership? Second, due to that negative light, is anything I say regardless of context, setting, or intent serious enough that individuals no longer have to speak to me privately or will be counseled to do so, but that it will be elevated immediately to pastoral meetings?
The comment I made in the group does not speak to the idea of some Black people not being “Black enough”. Rather, it speaks to the cultural bias amongst white leadership that they are only willing to hire people who fit a narrowly defined expression of Blackness. The offense is in how Black people seeking leadership positions have to posture themselves, leave a piece of themselves at the door, or deny portions of their identity to be deemed “leadership material” in majority white contexts.
People of color are not a monolith. The differences are beautiful and fruitful and round out our understanding of the Imago Dei. That is an amazing gift. What isn’t beautiful is when white churches in general only like to hire people of color who fit a certain mold. Is there something wrong with hiring people within that mold? Not a chance. Is it problematic if those in that mold are the only people of color they are willing to put in leadership? Absolutely. It is that selective hiring that leads to a furthering of that “Black enough” stereotype as it says we only want certain Black people who make us most comfortable and feel most similar to us. And further, that those people of color who fit other molds are not welcome in majority white spaces, particularly not to lead in those spaces.
Latasha Morrison, who founded Be The Bridge spoke at length on the phone with me more than once about how best to respond to this situation as it has evolved. I will continue to seek her guidance as we navigate these issues as she is not only my boss, but has been a constant support, encouragement, and mentor in my life for several years now and I trust her judgment. She is deeply concerned that something said in our private group was screenshot and then shared with my pastors. It’s something that needs to not happen again. It’s problematic enough for her that I am being treated this way by my pastors that she has removed Brian from the group. If someone who has chosen to participate in the group would like to address me personally about a concern, they are always welcome to do so.
My children, my husband, and myself all bear the scars and open wounds of racism. Wounds that have been inflicted on us by the world, by the big C Church, and by members and leaders at Redeemer. Yet, we have graciously continued to love and serve and give and forgive over and over again. I have sought to both bring attention to this great pain and reconcile with those for whom pointing out this massive divide in the body is painful. There is not a way to talk about race and the church without people feeling hurt. Pointing out deep sin and latent racial prejudice and telling others how destructive that is to yourself, your family, and others in the body will not feel good. Understanding the depth of our sin will not be and cannot be an academic exercise free from deep, painful emotions.
The attempt to censor me in a place that is not only where I work, but is a vitally necessary safe space for me to unpack the realities of racism, hurt my family and friends, and the hard work that needs done was rendered to by those I sought counsel with as spiritual abuse. My job there is not to extol the virtues of Redeemer. I have spoken about Redeemer exactly once in that group and it was to explain that post-election we wouldn’t be leaving our majority white church despite the overwhelming white evangelical support for Trump because the church was stepping into the work of racial reconciliation and I felt we could play a vital role in that and wouldn’t be subjected to pro-Trump rhetoric from the church as many in the group were facing at that time. If you would like Redeemer to be spoken of in the group, you are welcome to join and participate in these conversations. The group is open to anyone wanting to do the hard work of bridge building. If you were a member there you would see that I have literally thousands of posts and comments you could read to better understand what I was speaking to and how I communicate within the group. You could choose to not reduce me to one sentence I typed on one day.
So I am tired. My church, the place that should be a place to experience freedom in Christ and grace from fellow believers has become a place that leaves me with the feeling of burdens piled on me. You want me to bear the burden of others’ perceptions while not appreciating my reality. It appears that I am expected to both bear an unbearable weight of judgment from others while also being weighed down by not being able to freely express my reality in a space that was created expressly for that purpose.
I am not experiencing the freedom of the gospel right now from our church leadership. I am not being approached or viewed in a God-honoring way. I feel as though I was placed in a box years ago and despite all attempts possible on my part, no one will let me out. For the time being I will not be attending Redeemer because I can’t be in a spiritually healthy place there. The way me and my family are being treated is breeding resentment in me and I won’t allow it to take root. Jesus is the only thing I can lean on and if my church is hindering that relationship, I need to step away.
My desire is to be reconciled through the gospel to all people. I have repeatedly sought that out for years in our body with those who have hurt me and those whom I have hurt. My not attending doesn’t mean I’m not still willing to continue to do so. I’m not stepping away because of issues of race, I am stepping away because I can’t operate within a body where the leadership refuses to see me in light of the gospel and is happy to continue to view me through a lens of distrust, negativity, and judgment. I am stepping away because I have to in order to be physically, emotionally, and spiritually healthy.
They acted shocked. I still have a strong memory of the exact looks on their faces: disbelief and confusion. Which was telling to me of how disconnected they were from me or from seeing the abusive version of pastoring they were openly engaging in. Knowing what I know now, it’s also one more gaslighting tactic, and would be used as such against me.
Follow up emails go back and forth. While still proclaiming deep love for us over and over again, we would be told I was still the problem. It would ultimately culminate with this email from Kris in March of 2017, on my birthday no less:
First, I want to say again that we love you guys and have been grateful for the opportunity to talk the last few months. I feel like God has done a lot to both grow honesty among us as well as start to heal the relationship. After praying and thinking more I want to lead our conversation by actually recommending that you guys take the step to transition churches. There is a part of me that feels sad about that but it seems clear that it is the best choice at this point and therefore I am confident that to love you well is to make that recommendation.
They would attempt to meet with us to help us work out messaging to others on why we were leaving, being very clear what level of honesty and openness was deemed appropriate. We declined. They would continue to reiterate that our leaving was about race and diversity, something we had made explicit, time and again, was not the case. Their handling of race, while in no way acceptable, was the spotlight on the deeper issues.
And with that, we were out.
Not just from the church though. The social ostracization was quick and severe. We were ghosted by so many. An active campaign was enacted to make sure of it. I have since received apologies from multiple women who believed the story Redeemer told them about us, only to be shocked to hear our side.
At a women’s gathering right after our removal they even had a woman stand up on stage and proclaim, “the gospel is not activism. Let me repeat that. The gospel is not activism!”
Those on the inside were shown exactly what happens when you stand up to leadership. The longer we were on the outside of it, the more and more our blinders were removed and their dysfunction was brought to light.
Anytime any member or pastor raised significant issues, they were pushed out. The bodies behind the bus continue to pile up.
While this is the end of our personal experience as members, I will share in the new year what is currently happening at the church. It’s as bad as you might expect. Nothing has changed, except to become more controlling, more abusive, and more insidious.
