I’m Pretty Sure the Church Isn’t Allergic to Turkey

Besides being a vivid anecdote of sibling mischief gone awry, this story also functions as a metaphor for church life. Every day tons of armchair physicians flippantly diagnose illnesses in the body of Christ, proclaiming in very matter-of-fact tones what is “The Problem with the Church.”

“The church absolutely needs less expensive sound equipment,” one says. “The church needs more outreach to people who are unhoused,” says another. Or, “The church needs Gen-Z to stop deconstructing and commit to faith.” Or, “What the church needs is more programs for children/ fewer siloed programs for different age groups.”

I know this because as a pastor’s kid, third-generation pastor, and fourth-generation minister of music, I’ve been that person. I’m not saying that the diagnoses are all wrong, per se. Many of them—most of them, perhaps—accurately witness and record symptoms that indicate something is amiss.

But without a thorough understanding of how the body works, we struggle to accurately identify the problem or articulate a coherent solution. Understanding what ails the church requires not only biblical and theological training but also insight into psychology, complex family systems, group dynamics, and the ways cultural differences spring from demographic complexities across race, class, gender, and geography. History, anthropology, and social sciences all play a role in telling the story of how we’ve arrived at this particular junction of dysfunction.

Just as I was confident in my errant diagnosis of a turkey allergy, many of us boldly offer less-than-fully-qualified diagnoses of the illnesses plaguing the church and end up in denial about other possibilities. Some of us even fight tooth and nail to argue the legitimacy of our solutions, as if maintaining fidelity to strict theological positions and church polity models are the only solutions that make any sense.

Obviously theology is important! So is church polity. But sometimes the solution is a bit simpler.

Maybe we need to stop hurting each other for sport.

For those of us in the US, the last few election cycles have brought out the worst in us. Many of us have succumbed to a default political posture of tribalism and combat, of politics as blood sport. As Tim Alberta so ably demonstrated, this problem also exists in the evangelical church. We see it not only in political rallies and campaign commercials but in flippant comments and hasty judgments about people we deem as “other.” It’s one of the reasons why so many are no longer interested in using the term “evangelical.”

But just because this tribalism is no longer unusual doesn’t mean it’s not harmful. So let’s stop taking our cues from political figures, provocateurs, entertainers, and influencers who’ve made a business out of saying the most outrageously hurtful thing for attention.

When we encounter people who have been so enculturated into this brand of evangelicalism that’s steeped in misconduct from abusive leaders, people who unconsciously replicate some of those abusive behaviors, we don’t have to be shocked, offended, or gobsmacked.

Instead, we can respond the way my mother responded to my claims of a turkey allergy, with an initial layer of disbelief, followed by love, concern, and curiosity. Chances are, these folks need a consistent, non-anxious presence to help overcome the internalized dysfunction of being treated so wrong for so long.

When abuse becomes normalized, love is revolutionary.

Eventually, the boys in my extended family outgrew that particular Thanksgiving tradition, and we learned to have fun together in healthier ways. But first, a reckoning was required.

So don’t be afraid of the truth, even if it leads you into the unknown.

And if any of you find yourself at an overnight youth group gathering hoping not to be the next victim of a group prank, take it from me: You might just wanna stay woke.