The conversation started as, “Did you ever read my diary when I was younger?” My mom, sure to reply that she valued my privacy immensely, replied, “Yes.” But she couldn’t recall why she would do such a thing – and then it came to her, that she was worried about me and about the church I was going to. She said that she felt the church was so all-consuming and that she was worried she’d lose me (like, to a cult or something). I assured her of two things: One She had nothing to worry about. Two: She had everything to worry about. Her eyebrows spoke first. “Oh, shoot, you mean I was right?”
Let me preface this whole thing by saying that I truly value every experience I had and every seed of knowledge that I scooped up while I was a member of my previous church. To be discreet, I’ll call it, “The Big Church.” The Big Church now boasts congregations in 150-plus countries around the globe. Their members are of all ages, races and nationalities. They are non-denominational and their doctrine is tightly bound to every word in the Word, especially Matthew 28:18-20. Faith-sharing is at the core.
And that’s exactly how I got saved. My high school sweetheart-slash-ex-boyfriend’s sister invited him, and after intense study he was baptized. I was one of the first people he shared his new faith with. I too got baptized after the same intense study. And I guess that’s the first of many things. The Big Church will not baptize you until you have completed their studies. And since you’re not saved until you’re baptized, I used to wonder, what would happen if a person were to die in the midst of studying, even if they believe, have repented and have every intention of getting baptized? Well, they go to hell, unfortunately.
That’s one of the things I do not miss about being a member of The Big Church. I used to believe that if the last thing I did before I suddenly died (say, like in a car accident) was commit a sin and I did not have a chance to confess it to my accountability partner and repent of that sin, then I would go to hell. I still feel insanely guilty if I miss starting my day with the Word and prayer. I was serving a merciless God, and there was no freedom in Christ.
There wasn’t much freedom of any kind, really. That’s what concerned my mom. She noticed that I suddenly had to be at church or a church-related gathering no fewer than three times per week, and that if I were to miss I’d experience anxiety. I don’t even think she knew that it was not the kind of anxiety over missing fellowship with God and believers, but the kind where I feared chastisement from leaders. I was not exactly the most obedient teenager, either. And due to my, uh, extreme affinity for boys, I had leaders visiting my house for two-on-one talks at least once every month or two. I’m sure one of the biggest things my mom noticed was who I went to prom with. Not the guy I was head-over-heels for, but another boy who I was good friends with who was also a part of our youth ministry. (Our story ends up being a much longer and much more complicated one, but that’s a tale for another day).
As I got older I found that there were other ways The Big Church exercised control over its parishioners. Choosing who your accountability partners are instead of you picking someone with whom you connect is one of them. For me personally, that control included being advised that, under the guise of me needing to be all things to all women (1 Corinthians 9:19-23), I needed to upgrade my wardrobe and wear makeup. For what purpose? I was considered “sharp,” meaning, intelligent, well-spoken, well-versed in Scripture; someone who could be easily groomed for church leadership. I do have a very young face, and my casual, dress-down preference certainly doesn’t help. Another example of harping on someone’s physical appearance included them (some leader or two) telling me to tell my disciple, who had a lil’ facial hair issue, to shave. My first time serving as a youth leader involved being told to discourage my young charge from going to her dream HBCU (Historically Black College/University) in favor of staying in California and perhaps attending UCLA instead. Again, because she was considered, “sharp,” and would be an asset to the ministry. I left the church before she graduated, but I do believe she was convinced to stick around.
Any one or combination of these things is cause for a mom’s alarm to sound. But shockingly enough, I was alright. I say that because I have pretty passive tendencies sometimes. I may have let them pick my prom date but I did remain unbridled in a few ways. My high school Winter Formal date – gasp! – was not a member of the church. My response to being all things to all women? “Why can’t I just be all things to people who are already like me? If someone like you approached someone like me I would think a friendship with you was out of my league.” They didn’t like that response very much. I refused to speak to another woman about her facial hair. “It doesn’t bother me. If it bothers you so much, talk to her yourself.” Yeah… they didn’t like that answer either. There was also no way that I was telling this 4.0+ young black girl to squash her long-time HBCU goal to stay in So Cal. You mean to tell me that once she leaves, there will be no other sharp girls to share their faith at UCLA? God can’t make it happen without her?
My opinion of The Big Church stands at, it’s not a cult, but there are some fairly misguided leaders and principles in the church. Being a member gave me such a strong foundation that I cannot imagine having come to Christ any other way. I learned a lot of the old-school hymns there, which I often prefer in favor of the contemporary hits we sing so often today. The bulk of my Scripture memory can still be attributed to having taught their discipleship study guide to countless girls and women. It was there that I cultivated a love for the deeper things in and of the Bible. Because of my experiences I have a sense of spiritual pride, purity and faithfulness rooted deep in my core. At The Big Church, I developed a crazy talent for note-taking and an urgency for follow-up study in my personal time.
I went back once, because I needed to hear something more hard-line by way of a Sunday sermon. I’m not a fan of cookie-cutter teachings. And I still have friendships with current and former members, and have even shown up at a gathering or three since then. This to say, to each his or her own when it comes to picking a church. But it’s a fine line that needs to be walked carefully, remembering that we obey leaders in the Lord, and while there is freedom in Christ, the Word has the final word.
