In middle school, I vividly recall when the phrase “nothing personal” became popular. All of a sudden, we all started saying it. And pretty quickly, it became the disclaimer or introduction to, “I’m about to say something really mean,” disguised in the short phrase “Nothing personal, but …”
“Nothing personal, but you really need to put on deodorant after gym class.”
“Nothing personal, but that sweater is ugly.”
“Nothing personal, but that color just doesn’t look good on you.”
Sadly, middle school mean girls used the phrase to somehow soften really mean personal comments.
I have always been abhorred by the accounts of damage the church has done, but it seems especially visible right now. From claims of sexual abuse by spiritual leaders (and refusal by other leaders to believe these claims) to harassment of women to making people feel inferior because of their sin, so many people have been harmed by the church. And, as a pastor of a church that is attempting to faithfully welcome all souls, including those deeply wounded by the church, the phrase “nothing personal” seems to echo in paradoxical ways.
When people share their church trauma with me, more often than not, a big piece of their ongoing trauma is that their church or even “the church” has never come to them with an apology or acknowledgement of the damage caused. It is as if their particular church wants them to see the transgression as “nothing personal.” But, to dismiss someone’s suffering or urge them to let go of pain in order to preserve a particular church or the institutional church is hardly Christian or Christ-like. Jesus is our sympathizing high priest (Hebrews 4:15). No, he doesn’t sympathize in the sense that his suffering is exactly the same as ours, but he knows what it is like to be human, to be silenced, put down and pressed down, disregarded and manipulated. Listening to the ugliness in someone’s life is never comfortable. So, like a firefighter running towards the blaze, we have to push past our natural reaction to “save ourselves” and instead be willing to enter into discomfort and dis-ease.
The second half of the “nothing personal” paradox is that I experience deep sadness when someone shares pain they endured as a result of “the church.” And, if I’m not careful, I can find myself taking the criticism and animosity on the other side of that pain personally. The person wounded by the church may even say “nothing personal, but the church has hurt me.” Yet, as a church leader, my natural reaction is to react personally. Because, even though it’s messy and mistaken and broken, I love the church! But, when I react personally, I make it worse. Because in this case, the phrase “nothing personal” really seems to apply. The anger, pain and injustice is not about me; it may be directed toward another church or even the institution that I serve, but if I choose to respond with offense, I make myself or the church into the victim. I have to accept that the church has been the transgressor, that the church committed wrongs and acted unjustly. The pastoral response is not to defend the church, but to apologize and repent on behalf of the church.
Most people love to hate the corporate nature of the Old Testament and I can’t really blame them — being punished for the sins of our forefathers seems like a raw deal, especially in our individualistic American culture. But, communal theology asserts that it is “nothing personal,” for we are collectively responsible for the victories and defeats of God’s people. And, I believe the Old Testament corporate exaltation and judgment of the people of God applies directly to the church of today. My church and myself can and should take these opportunities to apologize for the sins of the wider church. And, rather than I can or I should, I must. I must acknowledge, apologize and repent for the sins of the church in order that someday, somehow, by the grace of Christ, this victim may turn survivor and not lose faith.
I don’t think it’s being dramatic here to reference that it’s better to have a millstone tied around our neck and be thrown into the sea rather than to cause one of God’s little ones to stumble (Mark 9:42). We have to let go of personal pride and control the damage — not damage to the church, but the damage caused by the church. And what’s perhaps even more difficult is that we then have to be patient. Because church is likely not a safe space anymore for the person who has been wounded — at least not for a while. And so, we have to instead be the church, surrounding them with love, care and friendship, but also give them space and time to heal.
I wish I had this all figured out, but what is clear to me is that the church needs to stop with the PR cover-up that grievous sins are “nothing personal.” And those of us who call ourselves the church need to accept that the pain of others is “nothing personal,” in order that we can respond together as the people of God, taking responsibility for corporate church sin and failures, repenting and reconciling. Because, without these responses, the count of the wounded will only continue to grow, along with the gap between the church and those who have been harmed.
JULIE RAFFETY serves as the pastor at First Presbyterian Church in Franklin, New Jersey. Julie is a violinist, aspiring writer, snowboarder, runner, identical twin and crazy about popcorn.
