This is the week when church members eagerly invite family, friends and neighbors who rarely, if ever, attend church to attend Easter services. What may seem like an invitation to hope could be perceived as something else, though.
Many non-churchgoers carry wounds that may be easily resurrected on Easter Sunday.
Some may come to Easter services seeking a nostalgic connection to their childhood. Others may not even have a Christian background but enjoy singing happy songs with a group of people on a day of celebration.
Rick Pidcock
Some families may attend because their kids enjoy seeing their friends from school. Others may be neighbors of church members or church staff members who respond to a friendly invitation. Others may come out of family duty, as part of a lunch invitation or because they think it’s the right thing to do culturally.
Easter is, among other things, a cultural phenomenon. And there are benefits to participating in something bigger and far more ancient than yourself.
That’s why most infrequent attenders will come to church this Sunday, have a nice time and then move on until Christmas without being bothered again.
But for some progressive Christians and ex-evangelicals, an invitation to attend an Easter service might feel like receiving a request to open themselves to the largest celebration of the very theology and power dynamics that harmed them.
I am one of those. And despite what is assumed about us, we might not be lost and desperate. We might actually be free since leaving the church and beginning the process of healing from our many church-related wounds.
We are well aware of the many skeletons in the church’s closets. Some of us have suffered under the identity-crushing abuse of men like Voddie Baucham, who told us we were “vipers in diapers” who deserve to be hit hard regularly and serve men for life.
Others have suffered the abuse of sexual shame because our churches used their theology of creation to cut us off from sexual wholeness.
Many have been hurt by the racist teaching of men like John MacArthur who use ancient curses to justify modern slavery.
Black children have been left in the dark about the dangers they face in life because men like Trent Hunter refuse to talk to them about it for fear of promoting Critical Race Theory.
Most of us have had our bodily autonomy and consent taken away from us as we were spanked growing up.
Many women have suffered domestic violence due to the sacralized power dynamics of complementarian male-dominated hierarchies.
“The mental, physical, spiritual, sexual and theological abuse many of us have suffered in churches runs deep in our bones.”
LGBTQ people now have reason to fear that prominent Baptist pastors and denominational leaders like Al Mohler hope to have them arrested and prosecuted.
We’ve watched the theological circus of the New Apostolic Reformation whip people up into a frenzy that fueled an insurrection.
We’ve been told by men like Greg Locke and other “biblical counselors” like him to ignore our mental health concerns and to blame all of our struggles on demons.
And men like Johnny Hunt who sexually abuse women continue to be platformed, while women who speak up for themselves get silenced.
These things may not have happened to you, and they may not have happened in your congregation. But they have happened.
The mental, physical, spiritual, sexual and theological abuse many of us have suffered in churches runs deep in our bones. We’ve had a long journey of reflection and healing to get where we are today.
That’s why even if the Easter invitations come from others who haven’t hurt us, our bodies may feel a trauma by association arise at the very thought of walking through a church door.
With all the demands of the day, Easter may not be the ideal time to attempt to right all these wrongs. And it may not be the best day for some of us to come back in the door.
But the work of Easter must be done beyond one Sunday. The true message of Easter is one of universal welcome, ever-present love and restorative justice. For many churches, that should begin with repentance.
Theologically, that begins with what is preached about Christ’s atonement. Easter messages based on retributive justice will reinjure those who have been harmed.
“Please be kind when you consider inviting us to your Easter services.”
“If someone hurts somebody, retributive justice says the way to deal with that situation is to inflict pain and harm on that person,” according to Douglas Campbell, professor of New Testament at Duke Divinity School. “So I solve problems by damaging people.”
Many of us have left conservative evangelical churches because we recognized how the thread between retributive theology and retributive ethics harms us and others we’ve come to care about. Worship through a lens of retributive justice — God punished Jesus because we are such sinners — is ultimately preaching excitement about hurting people.
The opposite and more helpful message is restorative justice — teaching that God’s redeeming work through Jesus seeks to heal us and make us whole rather than demean us.
To churches that celebrate restorative justice, thank you for being a space of healing. But please understand why many of us may struggle with the idea of walking through your doors this Sunday. Be aware of the insecurities you may have while inviting us.
And please be kind when you consider inviting us to your Easter services. We’re not “Chreasters” who are desperate and dying and lack a commitment to love. We’re your friends and family. And we might be interested in being with you if we’re not going to get hurt again in the process.
Rick Pidcock is a 2004 graduate of Bob Jones University, with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Bible. He’s a freelance writer based in South Carolina and a former Clemons Fellow with BNG. He recently completed a Master of Arts degree in worship from Northern Seminary. He is a stay-at-home father of five children and produces music under the artist name Provoke Wonder. Follow his blog at www.rickpidcock.com.
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