Dear Church – A Difficult Letter to Write

Dearest Church,[1]

I confess that it is difficult to write this letter because I know, if you truly hear what I’m saying, it will hurt you. At the same time, if you choose not to listen to what I’m sharing – or worse reject me for it — then I, and the many whom I deeply love, will only continue to be hurt by you.

In the end though, we’ve been through too much for me to not at least try. So, in hopes that we can rebuild a healthy and meaningful relationship; and desiring more beautiful days to unfold before us, here it goes.

Do you remember what first attracted me to you?

It was the way you treated people – full of kindness, compassion, and patience. I was struck by your strong conviction when you stood up for those that were bullied, dismissed, and disregarded – even when the vitriol was transferred to you for doing so. You truly believed that any who crossed your path were your neighbors, and you loved them, inviting me to do the same. You considered others more important than yourself, and I slowly came to feel the same way.

I remember asking you how you did it; how you loved even those that seemed to hold nothing but contempt for you. You patiently tried to explain how loving our enemies, and doing good things for those who wished us ill brought us closer to the heartbeat of Jesus. It was you who encouraged me to never “hate” anyone and to always find ways to encourage people. You tried to explain to my still young and uncomprehending mind that somehow – almost mystically – when we loved our enemies, it awakened something in their souls; ultimately touching their humanity and moving them, if ever-so-faintly at first, away from hate.

Don’t you remember?

This love you embodied was so beautiful, so pure, and so very compelling!

You told me – and modeled for me – how it was better to give than to receive and smiled knowingly each time I asked you to explain the paradox of how being last was better than being first. You unceasingly did what you could, when you could, for whomever crossed your path. You acted as if there was no limit to your generosity and hospitality and, until recently, I didn’t think there was!  There was no one too poor, no one too lonely, no one too different, and no stranger too unknown that couldn’t be welcomed!

I was paying attention the whole time, you know.

I was watching you and falling more and more in love with you!

When we talked about faith, you shared that it wasn’t too difficult, saying that Jesus simply looked for what I did for “the least of these” as the true indication of the depth of my faith. So, I grew ever more accepting and forgiving and worked hard to own my own sin and not judge others – just like you!

I did what you told and encouraged me to do; what you inspired me to become.

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Then you changed.

It was imperceptible at first but began building in momentum over the past few years. You began to dismiss my questions and struggles that you once welcomed, and you grew increasingly defensive. I knew something was terribly wrong when you began to label my heart as “woke,” and you told me that I had become “soft.”

I saw through it though, you know.

Even as you “joked” with me I noticed your growing, quiet complicity and how it encouraged, supported, and even empowered people that bullied, dismissed, degraded, and demeaned others. I saw how you cloaked yourself with a self-justifying shroud of divine affirmation that – in some convoluted way – granted permission to engage in ways that were and are diametrically opposed to the faith you once modeled so beautifully to me.

Lately, you don’t even try to pretend anymore – and I guess there is some solace in that you are finally being authentic again. You call me a “snowflake,” a “lunatic leftist,” mock people I’m trying to help, shun the very people you once encouraged me to care for, and even label me a heretic.

While I know that you will never use the word, your posture and actions confirm what your lips won’t say – that you hate nearly all the people I love. You stand against almost all those issues that I find intimate to my faith; my very being.

Please know that I’m trying to see a way forward together; I truly am, but it is so hard to do so when I also see the harm, hurt, callousness, and darkness of demeanor that is being left in the tumultuous wake of your “Christian beliefs.”

I know why this hurts so much.

It hurts so much because I thought you were serious. I thought who I fell in love with and who I wished to emulate was real and authentic, but in these last few years it has revealed otherwise. Therein lies the source of the deep pain.

I still believe it you know; what you once said about the true indication of the depth of faith. I still believe it to be true.

So, that brings us to the here and now, my writing this letter and wondering what’s happened to you; and wondering what the future is for us.

Yours,

Todd

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As a parallel to this letter, a mentor of mine recently wrote this on his social media, and I add my voice of concurrence to it:

“My church tradition emerged 150 years ago out of abuse perpetrated by a Church wed to the State. The Church and State collaborated to impose controls on people in villages, towns, and farms in Scandinavia. My tradition is part of what is sometimes known as the Free Church tradition, meaning free from control by the empire. Empire includes the state, politicians, kings, queens, deep pockets (dare we say oligarchs), enabled by church officials who got into bed with them. History is replete as this pattern repeats itself from Constantine (beginning in 312 AD) straight into the 20th, and the now 21st century. It is always a failure when seen through the eyes of Jesus.

Some in this country want to return to that model. They are a small minority but have maneuvered to establish voices in high places with the backing of significant wealth. I think this desire (really a movement) is not only a huge mistake but represents an understanding of Christianity that is simply but bluntly heretical.

It is not the way of Jesus of Nazareth. Full stop.”

• Rev. Mark Olson (Retired), January 2025

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[1] While this letter can be seen as addressing the Church in general, more particularly it is for the evangelical side of Protestantism, my particular tradition. It also bears noting that the letter is NOT specifically to the local church I attend, or the denomination of which it is a part – though some of the sentiments and observations are relevant to each.