Over the past few days my head and my heart have been returning to one of those pithy means that are shared to try to make a point about Christianity. This one says, “McDonald’s can mess your order up 101 times and you still keep going back… One thing goes wrong at Church and you quit. People just aren’t hungry enough.”

What this saying is missing is the component of safety. For many people, McDonald’s messing up an order is something forgotten or misunderstood. But when you have food safety issues, messing up has health consequences. 

I have a weird issue with digestive enzymes which makes me quite ill if I come into contact with foods I shouldn’t have. There are restaurants I don’t go back to anymore, because they weren’t honest about food prep, refused to accommodate me due to “the integrity of the dish”, or there were simply not things on the menu I could eat. For me, it isn’t about preferences or even being upset, it's about my health and safety. 

While yes, some people do leave churches and places of worship due to small upsets, more often than not I hear about people leaving because they have been deeply hurt. It isn’t safe for them. Theology has been used to cause wounds and justify behavior that harms them or their family. People speak pointedly in ways that demean another’s humanity or life experience. It isn’t a preference or a lack of hunger for community or God’s Word, it’s a safety issue. 

There have been a handful of times I have had to tell friends not to come visit me, either at the Christian college I attended or the churches I have served, because it would not be safe for them. It would cause deep harm. There have also been times that I have been harmed by the churches that I have served - both intentionally and unintentionally. There have even been a handful of instances where worship was not physically safe for me. I don’t deserve a badge of honor because I made the choice to keep showing up, even in instances where I probably shouldn’t have, just as much as those who choose to prioritize their safety and the safety of their loved ones don’t deserve to be villainized. 

​The problem is that if a place is so unsafe that the best option is to not show up, then usually the system/ organization is not willing and able to hear about the ways that they were unsafe. So all that is left is assumptions about why people no longer attend that paint those who have left in a harsh light. Maybe instead of assumptions we could start from a place of curiosity and wonder. A place of humility. Dare I say, even a place of repentance - that allows people to share the vulnerable parts of their stories of where we have done harm, without defensiveness. Maybe, just maybe, that will begin to heal our hearts and our culture of harm, bringing about a new story of justice and repair. 

“Do you serve a church?” A question asked when I was trying to get out of the hospital parking garage. A question that I had not been asked the dozens upon dozens of times that I have been there previously.

 But let’s back up. 

The hospital in my town has a fascinating story. It has evolved over the year from two separate campuses to one building under a new name. As many changes that have taken place with the structure of the building itself, there have been equal number of changes regarding every single detail - including parking passes.

 When I first began ministry in 2010 all clergy in the area could be given a parking pass. Why do you need a parking pass? Because when the hospital switched leadership they began to charge for parking. But the hospital-employed chaplains did not get a pass. Over time, instead of simply giving both groups passes, the chaplains received a parking pass and the clergy were directed to go to the security office for parking validation papers.

Every.single.time.you.visit.

For someone like me that can quickly become two to three times a week, with an older congregation rotating in and out of hospital beds. 

While it was certainly extra time to have to navigate to the security office before leaving, I didn’t think much of it, until I ended up in the building on a Saturday afternoon. All of a sudden, the people who recognized me were gone and in their place were new faces. New faces who had apparently been given a new set of rules - check the clergy before you give them a parking validation ticket. 

Before we get to the next part of our story, lets just sit with the fact that the minimum parking amount is two dollars and the maximum amount is six dollars. 

But for some reason it had been drilled into the new security office staff that they had to ask anyone they didn’t think looked like a clergy where they served. 

Only I completely missed the question. 

Yes, I do not look like clergy typical for my area, where older men predominantly serve. But when the security officer asked me, a petite, young, female, if I really served a church, I somehow translated it in my head to and what do you do and I said I was there to visit. 

It wasn’t until I left the building that it clicked what had happened. 

I wanted to go back and ask the security officer if they asked all of the men if they really serve a church. Or if they thought that I was in the building on a beautiful Saturday afternoon because I wanted my two dollars in parking validation. But once the snark got out of my system, I was left sad.
 
 This security officer, who was a young female, was not accustomed to seeing young female pastors. 

 What we do matters but so does the fact that it is us in these bodies who are doing it.

My sister-in-law recently sent me a picture of my nieces playing “church” with their dolls one Sunday afternoon and everyone leading the service was female. It wasn’t until this past year that they came to discover that boys can be pastors to. They were used to seeing female clergy in leadership.

But that wasn’t the case at the hospital that day. 

If given the chance to be asked again, I would proudly share that yes, I am a pastor of a local congregation and that I am here because I love my people and love my job. I am here, on a Saturday afternoon, to share scripture and prayer together and to be the living embodiment of the church to some of those who need it the most. 

 Do I serve a church? Yes. Yes, I do.