Claire: Step Three

Claire desires reconciliation with her childhood church and renewal of her ministerial calling, but she’s grown skeptical, confused, and depressed. How might Claire grow to accept the heartbreak she’s experienced and continue her faith journey instead of giving it all up?

Here are some ways Claire might declaw past hurts to resurrect her passion and voice in this new season.

Claire can allow herself to grieve.

“Why am I sobbing?” Claire apologizes for her tears as she tells old stories from her times as a youth in church. All the anger that usually keeps her grief at bay dissolves as she describes her childhood love for the church and her early enthusiasm as a minister in training. It is not just that she’s changed her mind. She has altered her orientation, letting go of the wide-eyed optimism and passionate clarity that once defined her personhood. Her current life would look unrecognizable to her former self, running barefoot around the church.

Too often, we assume life changes to be linear. One thing leads to another, with each piece building upon the other until a solid construction is built over time. However, Claire’s experience of her Jenga tower crumbling is what growing up looks like. Learning is a nonlinear process. We gain new knowledge and insight, all while yesterday’s insights come apart when facing today’s challenge. We need to speed up during one season and slow down in another. As Ecclesiastes tells us in its iconic third chapter, there is a season for everything under heaven. “A time to break down, and a time to build up.”

Claire might intellectually already know this to be accurate, but experiencing it is entirely different. Feeling like she is at a dead-end, Claire doesn’t even know how to speak about what happened and how deeply she’s hurting. She wonders if her religious identity is agnostic now (one who believes that there may not be a God; even if there is a God, it doesn’t seem to matter). I wonder how much agnosticism, in this case, is an intellectual way to hide from grief. Speaking up had been so central to her faith and identity. Giving up her voice, now distrustful of any religious language that might come out, feels almost like a form of self-harm.

Paula D’Arcy writes in Winter of the Heart: Finding Your Way through the Mystery of Grief, “Pain must move if it’s to be transformed. If it’s denied or hidden away inside, it affects future choices and the ability of our wound to heal. There must be an open space through which the river of sorrow can flow.”

Belief is more than an intellectual exercise, as Claire has learned in profound, life-altering ways. Yes, Claire went through seminary training where she could articulate faith in different ways. However, the emotional side of her religious transformation needs tending. To move forward, Claire can focus on finding a way for her sorrow to flow, as D’Arcy writes, rather than jumping to another religious label as a way to escape the pain.

Claire may not have felt empowered to name the profound sadness within this change because our culture does not often validate religious loss as grief. In the public square, Claire would feel much more comfortable naming the strides she’s made toward a more inclusive theology. She could talk publicly about all the ways she is happy to have moved on from evangelical faith, but speaking to the parts that she misses might feel like she’s morally complicit in the church’s wrong or disregarding the pain of LGBTQ+ Christians.

Bottling up grief over all that’s been lost (her confidence, worldview, voice, friendships, vocation, and belonging) creates a feeling of being stuck in bitterness and resentment.

Claire can unlock her spirituality so that the young girl in her can run barefoot and free.

What would happen if Claire calls to mind her teenage self, who ran barefoot around the church building, carefree from anxiety and loving life? Teenage Claire felt called by God to become a minister, even if it meant she would have to seek ordination outside her home church. She was bold and confident, ready to speak her faith aloud. She rode that wave of confidence until she grew weary from fighting the good fight against the larger institution of Christianity.

Claire distanced herself from churches and former Christian communities to return to a safe space. For her mental health, this distance has been essential to finding the freedom to sort through complex feelings and disruptive emotions.

If Claire can get to a place where she feels safe within her body, trusting her religious authority to revive her spiritual life, I wonder how Claire might ease up on the pressure she’s felt to get everything figured out. What if the Jenga blocks don’t have to form another tower? She can offer herself compassion instead of judgment whenever she feels nostalgic for how cohesive and solid her faith once felt. She can rebuild her spirituality, even with a broken heart, as she takes time to grieve and relearn how to open herself back up again with vulnerability and courage.

Nurturing new spiritual practices doesn’t have to dictate whether she stays away from church or returns to it. More critical than church affiliation or attendance, Claire can open herself up to love the teenage Claire, who has been locked away because her religious fervor was too valuable to be lost amidst all the deconstruction. When ready, Claire could wrap her arms around that former spirituality she once loved and cherished. She can remember her calling to ministry, weep for all that’s happened, and be open to seeing all that remains within her.

Claire is still the person God created her to be - full of spiritual enthusiasm and called to minister in love to God’s people, living out her mission as Jesus’ hands and feet. The grown-up Claire knows this calling will take a different form than her teenage self envisioned, but she no longer believes there’s only one way to be a Christian or serve in ministry.

Feeling safe and self-assured, Claire’s spiritual life can emerge from its cocoon and slowly blossom into whatever new shape it will take. Claire has learned that she is far more resilient than she knew. Her passion and voice emerge from her faith, which is now portable and can carry her through the changing seasons of life.

Claire can reintroduce herself and rebuild connections with forgiveness and tenderness.

Learning is not just about adjusting pieces of knowledge; learning happens in the transition moments. When we’ve left the known shore for lands far from home, we grow while we navigate the boat. Jesus does not teach growth in such a way that shames the previous versions of ourselves, the beliefs we leave behind. Too often, people show how enlightened they are by shaming people who still believe whatever belief they’ve left behind. In shame-filled spaces, “progressive” Christians create an environment where getting a belief “wrong” will trigger righteous judgment, thereby negating Jesus’ most profound teaching tools of compassion and forgiveness.

As Claire has experienced, faith is not the intellectual pursuit of correct answers. Faith is full-bodied, integrating our minds, hearts, souls, bodies, and communities. Therefore, forgiveness is not erasing or excusing our imperfections. Jesus’ forgiveness is about unleashing us from the expectations we place upon ourselves to have everything figured out and always do the right thing. Forgiveness is the grease in the wheels that allows us to move forward on the learning journey.

We must be gentle with ourselves in transition periods, especially when our whole belief system is under construction. Claire can start by sharing tenderness with herself and forgiving her teenage self for not being able to predict what would come in college. She can identify the good things that came from her passionate work in college, even if it didn’t bear the fruit she assumed it could.

She can re-introduce her adult self to the past versions of herself, speaking courageous and kind words like this: “I have grown so much. My life doesn’t look like it once did, but I’ve gained wisdom and deep friendships even though I’ve had to give up some dreams. I’ve learned that I’m far stronger than I ever knew and that deep sadness can signify that I’ve loved with my whole heart. I don’t know what comes next, but God is with me, which means that even heartbreak can be holy.”

After significant change, it can feel like you have to re-introduce yourself to people who knew you best when you were in a different life stage. One of Claire’s challenges this season is figuring out how to interact with people from her past who only knew her when she was a passionate advocate for evangelical Christianity. It’s almost as if she feels obligated to “come out” to these friends for no longer believing what she once did. She worries about her friends’ reactions to her uncertainty and time away from church. Some friends will appreciate her vulnerability, and their relationships will grow deeper. Other friendships may fade, as those friends are uncomfortable seeing a peer’s Jenga tower fall. Some of those friends might even try to convince Claire to rebuild the tower out of their evangelical zeal. Claire can remember how that fervor once lived in her, and she can respond with tenderness and boundaries.

When the tears come, Claire need not feel confused, for she knows she is grieving. She is learning to let go and to trust that the learning journey is the path to which God has called her. She hopes the adventure will take her somewhere she couldn’t ever have imagined. What amazing things might she do once she has free hands and feels ready to open herself up to the next chapter?

Connecting points to put each story in the context of our current day (resources), scripture (lectionary), wise thinkers (worth reading), and your personal story (reflection questions).

Claire: Step Two

Nestled within Claire’s life story are several beliefs that serve as threads, connecting her childhood love for the church and her fight for its reformation as a young adult. Here are some core beliefs that have carried Claire through life’s challenges.

Questions need not lead to answers; the pursuit is the point.

Claire loved the affirmation of the church, both her home church and Christian college, so she naturally appreciated what got her there—the answers. Claire asked lots of questions, amassing knowledge that helped earn her a reputation amongst the church as a bright and devoted follower of Jesus whom God is calling toward youth ministry.

Rather than focusing on her curiosity, the church praised Claire for knowing the right answers - a tricky thing in Christianity, as doctrine can easily turn into objects that we control. Stacked on top of one another, each piece of doctrine becomes Jenga blocks that build a tower whose height amazes a crowd but cannot stand the winds of change in life.

Each friend who came out to Claire as gay pulled a block from the Jenga tower until the whole structure came tumbling down. With all the blocks scattered, the point of faith (asking questions, seeking wisdom, constructing the building) was thrown into question. What was wrong? The answers? The pastor? Had they been fools all along?

Claire can reframe her learning journey by holding doctrine loosely and committing, instead, to the practice of asking questions. Claire has always shown naturally insatiable curiosity; it is God's fingerprint upon her. Asking questions moves us forward in faith. As children, answers feel foundational and important, but adults learn that answers can be the transition points that lead to better questions. God created Claire with a healthy sense of suspicion, unable to accept answers without first wanting to know the more profound truth behind what’s going on.

If anything, Claire’s journey right now seems to mirror her parents’ journey. Claire can connect with her parents’ story about finding a church when you have to move to a religious tradition different from what you experienced as a child. Claire’s parents were once young adults like herself, unsure of how to move forward and probably feeling mixed emotions about how they couldn’t continue in the religious history of their childhood since they married someone from a different tradition. They were momentarily lost and had to figure out how to move forward, if at all. Claire is her parents’ daughter, and the apple falls not far from the tree. Connecting with this family legacy can offer comfort as she feels displaced and unsure this season. Her parents can assure her that this feeling will pass with time.

I am at home no matter where I go.

Claire’s sense of safety, rest, and renewal at church launched her from childhood into adulthood with a sense of passion, community, and purpose. Ironically, those gifts have led her to distance herself from the people, places, and rituals that once represented home. Like we all do after a major life change, Claire is repeating the tasks of adolescence, re-negotiating her sense of identity, purpose, and meaning, but this time with the awareness of how fragile such foundations can be. Claire has the opportunity to experience this season of religious homelessness as the natural process of growing up and moving out of her church, which has felt like home.

Becoming an adult requires that we differentiate ourselves from our childhood home. We move out and have to develop a whole new life. Home turns from a place (our childhood bedroom) and a people (our parents and siblings) into a way of being (feeling at home in our skin). Claire’s heartbreak over losing her childhood faith resembles growing up and moving out of her parents’ house. She may have longed to be an adult, but realizing that she can never truly go home again can trigger sadness for she’s lost.

Growing up doesn’t require us to break all ties and get rid of everything to move on. Instead, we do the slow work of going through all our stuff to identify what we want to keep and what we no longer need. Claire can cherish the memories of her religious past while letting go of the expectation that they will continue to be her religious home and spiritual center. She can maintain a relationship with people from her childhood church while no longer expecting them to serve in the same role as mentor, guide, and pastor.

Claire knows from her theological education that the church was never meant to be the only place God dwells. God exists in and for and through the world around us. Therefore, that home within Claire is God’s dwelling within her. The more Claire consciously claims God’s abiding with her, the more she can venture out into the unknown, assured of who she is and that she belongs wherever she goes. As time passes, Claire will be able to see that the Jenga tower had been helpful for a season but its structure had always been intended to be temporary. Youth ministry offers teenagers a launchpad into adult spirituality, not a way of being that lasts forever.

Following Jesus means valuing relationships, even when my heart breaks.

Claire’s journey through college and grad school is a coming-of-age story that shows friendships' pivotal role in a young adult’s life. When all the doctrine and theology turned into flesh and bone in relationships, Claire realized how much living out our faith is far easier on paper. The actual living of our lives is a steady stream of new situations we could not have anticipated before they arrived. Yesterday's answers no longer fit when navigating a constant stream of unpredictable situations.

On her own in college, Claire took the beliefs the church handed to her and tried her best to make it all work, even as her friends came out to her about their sexuality. She strived to expand the evangelical tent to include all the folks believed to be outside God’s love. She could imagine a church that welcomes all people because God’s love is inclusive and all-encompassing. But trying to change her Christian college’s stigma toward sexuality was a revolutionary battle one student was unlikely to win within four years.

Claire’s teenage faith built a structure, while her young adult faith dismantled it. Ironically, following Jesus initiated Claire’s identity earthquake, so she’s unsure of where to turn when she’s gone from feeling teenage passion and clarity to tasting heartbreak and exile as an adult. Has she wandered outside of God’s presence? Feeling religiously homeless, untethered to a denomination, and distrustful of religious institutions, Claire wonders whether all the heartbreak is worth it.

Jesus himself felt religiously homeless, untethered to his religious roots, and undoubtedly distrustful of religious institutions (wise on his part, considering what happened on the cross). Even so, Jesus valued relationships, leading with empathy and an open heart. God takes on flesh to disrupt our religious systems, dismantling our answers and doctrine because they turn to us, judging and controlling our lives rather than leading us to Christ’s peace and God’s freedom.

We can forget how God’s presence, as we see in Jesus’ death, doesn’t always bring comfort and security. There are seasons in our adult life when God interrupts our regularly scheduled programming and invites us to live through a disorienting pivot. We might one day tell the story of this change and call it holy, but first, we must endure the heartbreak of what we’ve lost and confusion over where we’re going.

Connecting points to put each story in the context of our current day (resources), scripture (lectionary), wise thinkers (worth reading), and your personal story (reflection questions).

Claire: Step One

Here are some foundational beliefs that used to be central to Claire’s faith but have changed as she’s become a young adult. You’ll notice that these beliefs are not wrong, per se. The beliefs served Claire as a child but no longer fit based on her experiences.

Faith is an intellectual exercise.

Claire loved the church—the people, rituals, and intellectual exercise. Memorizing scripture and attending classes and retreats carried Claire through adolescence, helping her reach adulthood with a healthy dose of confidence and passion. It’s no surprise that she saw faith as an intellectual exercise, considering her church’s approach to confirmation as an exercise in memorizing specific answers that could be stated publicly before the elders.

Claire thrived in confirmation, where she could ask questions, learn, and prove her knowledge. She also got personal time with the pastor, building a relationship of shared conviction, commitment, and, ultimately, calling once she said “yes” to God’s call to ministry. The church’s public affirmation of Claire nurtured her hunger for more biblical knowledge and led her to pursue theology and church history in her academic pursuits.

When new theological questions emerged from the people she met in college, Claire found reason, logic, tradition, and catechism left her stuck and frustrated. Faith as an intellectual exercise didn’t work anymore.

I am the best version of myself when at church.

Adults instilled great confidence in Claire at church, and she thrived under their mentoring. Claire excelled in the religious exams for confirmation and found friends she knew she’d keep forever. She had no idea how comfortable and carefree she felt at church until one of her school friends tagged along one night to youth group. The friend couldn’t stop talking about how strange it was to see Claire running around the church building barefoot. To Claire, that was normal. She felt totally normal at church.

College was an extension of the church. She invested her time and passion in college ministries, taking on leadership positions to ensure the spiritual growth of all students. Even when the theological questions around sexuality emerged, she doubled down on finding a way to make this work.

Over time, listening to her friends share their experiences of feeling left out, shamed, and even banished from the Christian community, Claire began to feel confused at church. Had she been a fool for feeling so comfortable in a place that excluded her friends?

Clarity and passion are signs that you’re close to God.

Claire’s sense of God’s call to youth ministry came from her deep connection to the church and the identity she found in her youth group. Her congregation’s approval and biblical knowledge made Claire feel clear in her Christian identity and passionate about all God would do through her faithful living. Her childhood is filled with memories of times when she showed agency (she could do something for God!) and purpose (God wanted her to use her gifts!). Claire knew she had a voice she could use for good in the world.

The American culture of youth ministry, drawing upon teenage idealism and passion, fanned the flames of Claire’s sense of call to ministry. Youth ministry conferences preach messages about how teenage Christians can change the world as Jesus did through speakers like Shane Claiborne, painting a picture of Jesus’ revolution of holiness and justice.

By the time Claire hit a wall with her Christian college around LGBTQ+ inclusion, her sense of clarity and passion was so strong that she knew God was calling her to make a revolutionary change in the church. She felt close to God as she continued onto seminary, but eventually, she felt weary and discouraged fighting against Christian institutions for what felt like obvious reforms close to Jesus’ heart.

Connecting points to put each story in the context of our current day (resources), scripture (lectionary), wise thinkers (worth reading), and your personal story (reflection questions).

Claire: Background

Fresh out of graduate school, Claire has her seminary diploma framed on her wall, but she’s feeling confused and even a bit foolish now that she doesn’t believe in God… at least the way she once did. Church has always been the center of Claire’s life. If the doors were open, she would be there with her family.

Her dad grew up Protestant, and her mom’s family was Catholic, which meant they had to get creative when they started their own family. Assuming some perfect Catholic-Protestant blend existed, they compiled a list of each denomination’s highlights and downfalls, weighing them until her mom suggested they visit the church down the street. The neighboring church ended up being a great fit for the family. That tradition placed a high value on education as the church’s primary tool of faith development, with catechism instruction seen as the way to keep one’s life aligned with the teachings of Christ. A naturally enthusiastic and eager learner, Claire thrived in the confirmation process of studying, asking questions, and memorizing scripture and church history. Claire even enjoyed the oral exam before church elders as a chance to share all she had absorbed on the learning journey.

At a high school youth group conference, Claire felt God call her to become a youth minister. She knew she’d have to venture outside of her denomination to pursue ministry, as her church didn’t believe women could be pastors, so Claire set her sights on a Christian college that affirmed women in ministry.

From the moment she stepped onto campus as a freshman, Claire was delighted to be surrounded by other Christians pursuing a holy life. Her spiritual life took a turn within the first few weeks when a dozen new friends shared in private their struggles with their sexuality. Feeling taken aback, Claire couldn’t help but recall all the answers she once offered before the elders about God’s intention for sexuality. In all her catechism training, Claire had learned that God had created sex to be between one man and one woman united in holy matrimony. All other forms of sexual life fell outside of God’s intent for creation, or so she had believed.

Claire reached out to a friend from home, lamenting how she didn’t know how to handle it. Her friend responded with news of his own. He, too, was gay. Here was a friend who she had felt so close to, growing up together in the same church. Why had he not trusted her and shared this news before? If he had confided in her, how would she even have handled it at the time?

Confusion flooded Claire. Yet, here she was on this beautiful campus with the opportunity to grow as a student of Christ, so she leaned into what she knew best from growing up: faith as a learning journey. Surrounded by other young Christians called to ministry, Claire grew adamant that there had to be a way to make this work. She poured her time into campus ministries, leading Q&A sessions with faculty around sexuality to help create some way for gay students to remain faithful to Christ without living in shame or secrecy.

By the time Claire transitioned into seminary, fatigue had set in. All the passion Claire once felt for the church had faded, and her vocational dreams narrowed even more. Yes, she would work for churches, but only if they were outwardly affirming of all people, which she found to be fewer than she had hoped. As school assignments grew, waves of bitterness and cynicism built toward institutional religion.

When COVID hit, Claire grew even more tired as she watched churches disparage public health officials while ignoring George Floyd’s murder. Seminary classes now moved online, leading her to be alone as her learning journey focused on all the ways that scriptural infallibility, white privilege, misogyny, homophobia, and countless other systemic evils create unsafe conditions for vast swaths of people in the church.

Now that she's done with seminary, Claire’s no longer unsure of what she believes. For years, a deep love for the church has guided her actions, formed her identity, and created a strong sense of community. She holds a bachelor’s and graduate degree in theology but distrusts the church more than ever. Church, ironically, is now the last place she wants to be. Even so, her face lights up when she talks about how much she used to love going to church.

Claire felt Jesus was leading her forward all along. How do we make sense of faith development when it seems to lead to dead ends?

Connecting points to put each story in the context of our current day (resources), scripture (lectionary), wise thinkers (worth reading), and your personal story (reflection questions).