Pastors Are the Problem

A Lament for the American Church

Let’s talk about church.

I was raised in the church and was even a preacher's kid for a while. My family was one of those who did everything: taught Sunday school, helped in the nursery, played the piano, sang in the choir, led the choir, ran youth events, brought food, stayed to clean up…. Church is at the heart of my identity.

But I've been church-homeless now for almost 6 years.

When we lived in Texas, we found the best church we've ever attended, with the most talented preacher and the most robust understanding of the Gospel. We enjoyed four years of intense spiritual growth and healthy community.

Then covid came. And they refused to mask, and said “Don't worry; only old people and the chronically ill are dying.” The pastor laughed and bragged about a Christmas Eve superspreader event that gave his congregation herd immunity. Then he started preaching against BLM, saying, and I quote: “If you're not worried about Black abortion rates or Black-on-Black crime, I don't give a damn for your view of justice.” When I met with him to discuss these topics, I found he'd been radicalized by his kids introducing him to the dark far-right underbelly of the internet. That conversation ended with his telling me I was “welcome to look elsewhere” for a church.

And I have been. Ever since.