Our Experience of Redeemer Fellowship: Part 3
“Dismantling tactics are designed to destroy the victim’s external and internal worlds, keeping them in a web of abuse the abuser has spun. The abusive person dismantles the victims internal world until nothing of substance remains. They often begin with the victim’s own sense of identity.” — Something’s Not Right by Wade Mullen, page 61
Later on in our story I will tell leadership they have placed a scarlet letter on me and acted accordingly. It was true; I was branded. Association with me would come to mean something. As they tore down my ability to trust myself or feel free to be myself, I was systematically excluded.
We had been leading a small group for 6 years at Redeemer as well as training new group leaders, but in early 2016, we would be asked to step down by the two pastors who oversaw groups at that time, Ricky and Gregory.
This was asked for under the auspices of “giving us a break” as we had just welcomed a 4th child into our home. We decided to go ahead and do so even though we knew we were likely not being told the whole truth. Some close friends of ours who lived across the street and had been in our group for years took over leadership for us. What we didn’t know at the time was they were told an entirely different story by Gregory (who also lived across the street from us and next door to the other couple). They were told we weren’t leading well, we were dropping the ball, and the church was no longer comfortable with us leading others. The friendships the women and I shared would dissolve quickly in the wake of these lies.
I have had opportunities to reconcile with both women, but there’s been years of damage that still has to be worked through. As with many from Redeemer, they too were used by leadership, so have to navigate the complicated world of being both participant and victim.
In July 2016 the world would watch in horror as Philando Castille and Alton Sterling were both murdered by police within 24 hours of each other. I didn’t know if I could go to Redeemer anymore. I couldn’t sit there and act like my insides weren’t falling apart and smile at the nicely dressed white people wondering if they even knew. I didn’t want any more spiritual bypassing. Redeemer offered four services each Sunday at the time. I heard enough positive reports from others that I managed to force myself to attend the last service of the day.
There was a time of lament. A time of mourning the dead and systemic injustice.
I sat there in shock.
I ended up emailing the pastor, Kris, who led the service. For context, two pastors had recently left the church and it wouldn’t be until much later that I would learn this was a public cover-up for the ways they were run out for speaking up against the leadership model and direction they saw the church headed. The following is a small excerpt from a long email that shared my thankfulness and pain.
I debated this week if I would attend Redeemer on Sunday. I was in a place of so much hurt and pain and brokenness that I didn’t know if I could sit in a service and not hear a word of hope about racial injustice. I think it’s fair that I didn’t have confidence that it would be broadly spoken to as that has been the response in the past.
It was about 18 months ago that I got on a microphone at a member meeting and pleaded with the pastors of our church to stop being silent on this issue. The silence of the church at that time was almost as undoing as the hurt of what was going on in the world at that time. My pain at that time was not less than my pain about these deep-seated issues is today. I was undone then and crying out to hear hope and the gospel speak to my hurt.
In response I felt as though I got a verbal smack down by our pastors. Something that still causes me deep pain to this day. But for Scott leading our family to stay, I most likely would have left the church. What I said in that meeting — a request for the church to use the multiple platforms available to it to not remain silent — was met with a lot of defensiveness and excuses, when all I was begging for was for the church to speak to the issue the way you did this Sunday.
As with most things, it’s bittersweet. I mourn that I was ill received in encouraging the church to go to this place a couple years ago, while having peace that change and understanding take time. I have grace upon grace to offer, while also still dealing with hurt from the past.
Kris would respond:
Thanks for your email ... for both the encouragement and for bringing me into the ways you have been praying and struggling recently as well as over the last 18 months.
I think God is working in the deep places of our hearts as pastors and in the lives of our people.
Please continue to pray for us, our city, and the healing that needs to take place both across racial lines and lines within our church. I’m sad for the hurt that the members meeting caused. As we reflected on that we did not feel like we handled it well. I hope our people see conversations with some of our pastors as representative for all of our pastors, but if there is peace or healing that can be made in the situation you experienced I know we would love to step toward that. Kevin is out of town thru July but I know he and Evan would love to sit down to talk and pray as steps toward healing.
I’m honored you would share it with me so I better know how to pray. Also, if as you process you think another conversation would helpful moving forward please let us do that. This will be a long road and I want to walk it together not feeling like people have to go around situations or other people in our body. Thanks for being gracious. I realize you have had to absorb more than I will ever realize.
I’m grateful for you and Scott and your family. Praying for you as I send this.
While this email was filled with hope and the interactions that would happen afterward were supposed to be a fresh start and new way forward, it would actually be the beginning of the end for us with Redeemer.
