Connection, Community & Prodigals

No man is an island entire of itself; every man

is a piece of the continent, a part of the main...

From No Man Is An Island by John Donne

As human beings we are all wired for connection.

The Cambridge dictionary defines connection as; the act of joining or being joined to something else, or the part or process that makes this possible

In her book, The Gifts of Imperfection, Brene Brown defines connection as the; “the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard, and valued; when they can give and receive without judgement; and when they derive sustenance and strength from the relationship.”

Vulnerability and intentionality are key for genuine connection to take place. It rarely just happens. And you can't fake it. It is difficult to experience genuine connection if you don’t allow the genuine you to be experienced by others. That doesn’t always stop people from trying to connect mask to mask instead of face to face and heart to heart. Wearing a mask can get very lonely as people never get to see and hear the real you.

We find ourselves in a kind of a catch 22 situation. We want to connect with others, but we don’t want to be seen. We are afraid to be known. And so this connection that people talk about seems like a far off fantastical creature that other people get to experience and not us.

Why do we do this to ourselves? Generally, we are scared to be known. I am not talking about people knowing facts about us. But people actually knowing us. Our deepest desires, hopes and fears. What if we showed someone who we really are and they don’t like it? What if we were to find the courage to let them know the real us, and they reject us?

Shame keeps us from vulnerability. And a lack of vulnerability keeps us from the connection we ache for.

People react to shame in different ways. Some withdraw from others. They keep to themselves. I can’t be rejected if I reject them first.

There are others to work to build a better mask. They present the version of themselves they believe others will be less likely to reject. They will accept the happy me, always positive me, cute me, funny me, helpful me, talented me, knowledgeable me, strong me, brave me, fun me, spiritual me, sensible me, independent me, stoic me, cool and cynical me, busy me, successful me…

Never underestimates a person’s longing to belong. To belong somewhere. To belong with someone. To belong to a tribe.

Individuals will endure much to have what they believe to be connection and belonging, even if that belonging and connection isn’t based in reality. Individuals will stay in relationships and environments long past the healthy expiry date. People will put up with abuse just for a taste of belonging. I have met people who stay in abusive relationships. I have met people who stay in toxic communities. Both stay because both are convinced that they have nowhere else to go. They think that this is the only way they get to experience connection. The best they are going to get.

I was someone who didn’t trust community easily. But I wanted to experience this connection and community that people talked about. I learnt more about it and experienced it more fully at an overseas ministry school. I decided that I would risk my heart in vulnerability to have and create it once I returned home to New Zealand. My desire to belong to a tribe after I finished this three year ministry school, led me to unwisely trust a charismatic church leader who went on to emotionally manipulate me for a two year period. I wanted to so much believe that I had found my tribe, my spiritual family, that I ignored the warning signs (or tried to excuse them). Towards the end, this slowly edged into the territory of emotional/spiritual/narcissistic abuse. Not a simple misunderstanding (as I am aware that this is what this person tells people) dear reader. My choice was to either stay and continue to allow myself to be hollowed out into an empty shell or leave.

In refusing to lose myself, I lost the tribe I thought I had gained. I knew it would happen if I chose to step away, and yet even though I was mentally prepared, my heart was still broken by it all. I eschewed the unhealthy false connection and gained the wilderness in return. I became one of the weeds to be pruned out of the heavenly garden. I was taught the importance of owning my story, and yet my story was an inconvenient truth for some. I was emotionally and spiritually devastated. I couldn’t write. I could barely pray. I felt so hurt and confused and abandoned. I was angry. At the people who hurt me. At God. At myself. And I was afraid. I was afraid to share my story for fear of retribution. Or worse, I was afraid of not being believed. I am still afraid.

Mostly everyone wants to be a hero. But the reality is most people want to belong more than they want to do the right thing. Once people have found their place to belong, they will fight to keep it, even if it is unhealthy and in-genuine. I have found that most would rather have the false sense of security provided by a lie, than experience the very real pain of reality. And this is simply a tragedy. (And yes it is painful, but oh the freedom on the other side!)

The foolish man built his house upon the sand. The rain came down and washed away the sand, and the house came tumbling down.

It has been a brutal life lesson. Even though I never saw the Church through rose tinted glasses. I didn’t fully understand why people walked away from Church community. I want you to know that I get it now. There is no longer any judgement here. I understand why you may have left. I understand that you may be angry or afraid or numb. I will share glimpses of my story with a trembling heart because my story matters. Whether anyone wants to hear it or not, it matters. And I want you to know that your story matters too.

The so called prodigals are a significantly large group. Their reasons for leaving church are as varied as they are. Some are too afraid to return. Some are too angry to return. Some are too proud to return. Some have vowed to never return. Some have simply lost interest in returning. Some have been terribly wounded in the Church. Some have been abused. Others have been let down by the gap they witnessed between what was preached versus what was practiced. Some have completely lost faith in the Church to provide connection and community. To them the Church is no longer a safe place. Do you realise what I am saying? They find the big scary world to be a safer place than the Church.

I know that there are those who don’t approve of airing the Church’s dirty laundry in public. It’s not a good witness apparently. Although these same people tend to approve of Martin Luther doing it five centuries ago. Bill Johnson puts it something like this, Israel loved her prophets after they were dead.

Jesus said that the world will know we are his disciples because of our love for one another. Genuine love birthing genuine connection and community. The first step to healing and freedom is to admit that we may have a problem. We cannot keep pretending away people’s inconvenient stories. I have been reading articles on abuse and abuse cover ups in the Church. I have heard stories of leaders covering up abuse to “protect the movement”. The problem is real and bigger than you could possibly imagine. We must stop feigning ignorance.

In the classic Dr Seuss story Horton Hears a Who, the animals didn’t believe Horton the elephant when he said that the Whos existed. They couldn’t see them, so chose not to believe that they were there. They decided that Horton was a fool who was fabricating it all. They were prepared to wipe out an entire civilisation, and Horton as well, as a result.To save themselves, the Whos cried out; We are here. We are here. We are here. Making as much noise as they could muster, they pleaded for their lives. It took some time and much of their effort, but they were finally heard. Every voice matters. Because you see “a person’s a person, no matter how small.” The animals realised that Horton was telling the truth and the Whos really were there.

And yet after all of it - after all I have experienced, seen, read, heard - I still believe in the importance of connection and community.

I believe that there are healthy spiritual leaders out there who are honest and kind. Who don’t seek to control and manipulate. Who won’t use me and then discard me once I have served my purpose. There are spiritual leaders who, although they may not always get it right, genuinely love and celebrate the people they lead. There are leaders who don’t choose platform over people. There are spiritual leaders doing their best to create healthy communities for people to thrive. There are leaders who stand up against abuse and refuse to participate in hiding it. There are leaders who are not afraid of the messy inconvenient stories, but they embrace them as they embrace the people who own the stories.

I believe that there are spiritual communities out there who do family, maybe imperfectly, but to the best of their ability. They look out for one another. They don’t build friendships purely for personal gain. They love and honour all of the Church. Church doesn’t have to be a place where the congregants simply become players performing in the Orphans Theatre. I believe that there are spiritual communities where people are allowed to be imperfect, even as they are supported and challenged to grow. There are communities waiting with open arms to receive all - broken pieces included. There are still a few places happy to barbeque a few sacred cows now and then.

I believe that I will find them. And dare I say it, I believe that you will find them too.