"When I hear people urge us to talk about all the good that came out of Mars Hill, asking why we can't just focus on the redemptive aspects of this story, I want to invite them to sit with Levi, Anderson, Lindsay or Michelle, and ask them the same question. I want to remind them that Jesus leaves the 99 for the one. Which means that these stories of loss, of disorientation and shattered faith matter just as much as the encouraging stories we can tell about the churches planted in the aftermath. And sometimes, if I'm being honest, when I'm in a particularly dark mood, I'll tell them that they sound like Job's friends and encourage them to talk less and join those who are sitting in the ashes and just weep." ~ Mike Crosper, from The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill
I finally finished The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill a couple of weeks ago and it's still circling around in my gray matter. If you've never heard of it, it's a podcast series put out by CT Magazine's podcast arm and can be found here. Throughout the course of the series, I have experienced the full range of emotions. I've laughed out loud in utter disbelief at some of the things said and done under guise of "the gospel." I have raged, literally shouting to the heavens, with anger. During the final episode, I simply wept. I wept for those I know - those I love - that are sitting in the same kind of wreckage, in too much pain. too much betrayed trust, too much loss, to find their way out. I wept for those that continue to hear all the trite answers, prayers and memes that try to diminish or explain away their pain, yet only serve to drive it deeper.
If you listen to this podcast, and all you leave with is relief that Mark Driscoll is not your pastor or that you escaped Mars Hill Church, I believe you've missed the point. If we do not hear and search our hearts for the ways we have been Mark Driscoll (whether we pastor or not) and repent of and seek repair of, anything revealed; if we do not reflect on ways our own church environments currently are, or could easily become, the type of place that allows damage to hearts, lives, families; if we do not evaluate seriously the types of theologies we may be following unquestioningly without realizing the blind spots and damage they create; if we do not take seriously the level of pain so many coming out of these toxic environments are facing - then we've definitely. in my opinion, missed the entire point and wasted a lot of hours listening.
I do not personally know anyone that attended Mars Hill Church or one of it's satellites. I do not know anyone personally that was directly hurt by Mark Driscoll. I do, however, know a lot of people that have been hurt by the ways our church cultures have created pastor celebrities that are entirely, or almost entirely, out of reach of criticism, that value a toxic form of masculinity and/or authority structures (going so far as to name it as "biblical") that leaves untold numbers in their wake, that worship the certitude of their theologies while sacrificing real human lives that dare to voice doubts or speak out. I know people that have left the Christian faith entirely because of places like this. I know still more that have held on to Jesus, but continue to struggle to find a place to belong after either being officially forced out of their church, or left with such a loneliness that they felt no other option but leaving. This pain is real. Brushing it aside as "that one bad space" or that "one bad pastor" brings more pain for those still reeling from it. The sheer numbers tell us this is not a one-off issue. The Church, by the nature of our calling, is interacting with people at their deepest hearts, their most vulnerable wounds, their core values, their greatest trust. How could we think that a space that should be the safest in the world, yet abuses at these levels of heart, soul and mind, could be so easily brushed off? That it's as simple as brushing the dust off their feet and just "go find another one" that won't do that to them? This level of pain, betrayal, abuse, toxicity goes to the core of who we are as human. Five line memes won't fix it. "Our church isn't like that," won't fix it.
The Church has some soul-searching to do. We need to grapple with the responsibility and weight of what we carry when human souls entrust themselves to a space that claims to walk as Jesus walked. Even when we are doing this as best we know how, the responsibility should always weigh heavy. But when we see it failing so spectacularly all around us, when we find ourselves complicit in harming others as we choose worldly power or fame or structures or ideologies over the cruciform way of Jesus - even more so then, we need to grasp the havoc we are creating in lives and hearts. We need to be willing to sit with our mouths shut and listen. No excuses. No theology rants. No passing the buck. Listen to their pain. Sit down in the ashes and weep with them. Love them.
We can choose not to. We can circle our wagons, we can blame it on what must be their own waywardness, we can explain away the numbers in ways that bring no personal responsibility. We can. Just as Herod thought he could wash his hands and be innocent of his choices, we can try that route as well. We will be just as wrong and just as responsible.
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