The Irony of Healing

The thing that hurt you might be the thing that heals you. Let me explain.

Throughout my time in ministry, I've been invited behind the scenes into numerous different marriages. Marriage is complicated, and it sadly falls apart for many people. I've also seen how, sometimes, Christianity (especially the version rooted in patriarchy) can empower men to be abusive to their wives. Some abusive men will look for any justification to treat others the way they want, and unfortunately, you can find that material within the Christian tradition. It's not always men in this role; they just tend to dominate what I'm referring to here.

Which means I've been around to watch numerous women leave these types of relationships after the abuse is too much. It usually comes after years of this treatment, and sometimes they never find a way to leave it at all. 

To a person escaping an abusive marriage, the last thing they tend to want is another marriage. After all, that was the vehicle that brought them pain. And few would blame them. They usually celebrate their independence and the chance to start being themselves again. 

But I've also been doing this long enough to have seen enough people in this situation start to open themselves up to the idea of getting married again once they meet someone different. It doesn't mean they lose their suspicions about marriage, or that they suddenly assume all marriages are healthy. But meeting a person who treats them in a way that allows them to thrive opens the door to the idea of marriage again.

I've seen them get remarried to someone who is not abusive to them, and then watch as they come back to life. While their departure from the abusive relationship offered a break from the abuse, it was the love of a non-abusive partner that truly started to heal them.

The thing that hurt them (marriage) ended up also being the thing that healed them.

To be clear, I'm not suggesting you need to find your soulmate or that you need someone else to complete you. There are plenty of good reasons for that person never to marry again. I'm just observing how a healthy marriage has the power to help heal the damage done by an abusive marriage.

This isn't actually about marriage. I use this analogy to explain a recent observation in my own life. I've been preaching more lately and thus spending more time in some local church communities. In that process, I've noticed that some of these people are helping me heal the damage I experienced in my past church.

It doesn't mean I suddenly believe all (or even most) church communities are healthy. It doesn't mean I'm now offering blanket endorsements for all readers to run to their nearest church and dive in. What it means is that I'm noticing how the thing that hurt me (church) is becoming the thing that heals me, too.

Similar to a person leaving an unhealthy marriage, I don't think you have to attend a church each weekend in order to be a real Christian. If the thought of walking back into a church building raises your blood pressure, I get it. But the driving reason I create content each week is to help people rebuild their faith after it breaks. 

I would merely point out the observation that, as you heal and as you rebuild something better, you might get to a point where you discover a different kind of community than the one that hurt you (it might only happen after you discover a dozen others just like the one you left). You may even have some false starts that appear different at first, but then you recognize the same patterns as before. But the fact that it's possible is something worth keeping in mind.

In the pursuit of healing, it's a bit of a beautiful irony that Jesus can use the exact mechanism that hurt us to later offer us healing. I suspect a healthy church community has the power to heal the damage done by an abusive church. But it can be a strange feeling when the cure looks like the cause.

Abuse often happens in marriage and in a church. And we should be clear-eyed and honest enough to protect ourselves from it. Healthy caution and skepticism are wisdom, not bitterness. But there's also beauty to be found there too. And when you stumble into one of the good ones, I'd encourage you to lean in and see what happens.

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash