Lies, Betrayal, Scandal…Welcome to Church

 

Now I won’t lie, my emotion of choice is usually anger. One of my professors in college told me that “anger covers a multitude of emotions”—boy did she ever get that one right!

 

But this hurt, this horrendous lie, caught me so off guard and cut so deeply, I couldn’t even be mad. (Don’t fret; I found the strength a little later on—more on that later!) I was truly rendered speechless—which never, ever, ever happens to me. The person we had trusted with everything had taken it all. Every penny. All the missions money. All the youth camp money. All the savings. We didn’t know if we could make payroll…we didn’t even know if we could keep the church open.

 

I was (and still am) incredulous. How do we even remotely balance justice with mercy? How can forgiveness and responsibility dwell in this house together? How should I respond to this as a friend who has been lied to? How should I respond to this as a church member who has been betrayed? How should I respond to this as a pastor who helps shepherd this flock?

 

And then it happened. My preteen son did something that changed everything. After our senior pastor spoke to the church about what had happened, and where we were financially and what was immediately necessary to keep the church open, my 12-year-old son rocked my world. He had been saving up for a laptop for quite some time, and he gave all that money in the next week’s offering. He didn’t ask us, or even tell us, he was doing it. He just did it. And when it came out…yeah, that’s when I got mad!

 

(WARNING—Spiritual head of household failure ahead!)

 

When Timmy told me he had given his laptop money, I gritted my teeth and smiled and said I was so proud of him. The truth is I was furious. Livid. Incensed. I truly felt like an atom bomb on the verge of mushrooming. And while I like to think I hid that from my kids, they know me all too well. (And for the record and to avoid confusion, I wasn’t mad at Timmy; I was just so mad that the irresponsibility and lies of someone else had cost him everything—I’m pretty sure there’s another article in those words right there!)

 

After I contained the explosion, I asked Timmy why he felt like he needed to do that. He said something like, “I just felt like God wanted me to let go of that laptop, Dad. The church has to keep going. I can help by letting go of that laptop money.”

 

Wow. There it was. The answer I needed about my response was right there in his simple words and simple faith. God just wanted me to let go of all those raging, confusing emotions—the ministry, the church, had to keep going. 

 

Sometimes we can get mired in the mess of ministry—the lies, the scandal, the politics, and the drama. And sometimes we get mad, hurt, sad, and apathetic. And while we might drive by, we cannot park there! We have to let it go. We have to purge the distraction and disappointment. The church—the ministry—has to keep going.

 

I won’t lie, there are still days that I drive by. Emotion creeps in and I re-live the betrayal, the lies, the complete sense of “Wow, how could I have gotten that so, SO wrong?” But I can’t park there. The church has to keep going. And I can help just by letting go. And wow, look at that: By letting go I don’t just help the church; I get a little payoff, too.

 

Last week, almost 4 months after the debacle, someone donated a laptop for Timmy.

 

Let go. The church has to keep going.