I do not take deconstruction lightly, nor do I wish for churches to die. I want the church to flourish, and flourishing requires weeding out that which is harmful.
I wish though I could go back to that young girl, sitting in that big arena with all its grandeur. I wish I could invite her to a quiet, less intense space, and tell her she may leave the church, but it will never mean she left the faith.
It is a mass exodus of individuals. And it is a lonely exodus. Not only have I lost the community I once had, I found myself without a community to enter.
It is awfully convenient to believe the right thing to do is whatever you want, at anyone else’s expense. It felt like the lives of the sick and vulnerable didn’t matter. Then George Floyd was murdered.
There is no use pointing fingers. That is not them. That is us. We dragged Jesus—the one who died for us—into our tryst with Trump, while the church sat by with a nod and a shrug.