I went to a Baptist college because I felt a part of something (and because, secretly, I hoped to meet a “like-minded” spouse, but saying it aloud makes me feel like a complete fake). I wanted to teach overseas and live a life designed around zeal for God’s glory. It was real for me. No doubt. I believed ardently.
The people I met at Cal Baptist fell into three categories: a) True, true friends b) People who constantly made me feel like I would never measure up, and c) People I judged because I thought their faith was fake. Oh, the irony.
The “missions clique” was the most admired group of people on campus, but I was so hurt by the way they made me feel with their incessant exclusion. I know now that I sometimes made others feel that way (but I never would have imagined it at the time). I don’t blame them because I hope it wasn’t intentional, but now that I’m on the other side of my faith journey, I definitely don’t miss that feeling or culture. At Cal Baptist, there was an impossible standard (that I would never meet), so I constantly struggled with becoming a “better Christian” and wondering what made them so much closer to God than me. At the same time, I didn’t want to be just like them. It was clearly a paradox.
I remember being invited to join a strategic group on campus that wanted to raise awareness about “God’s Heart for the Nations.” I don’t remember who invited me to meet with them (probably Stephanie or Tyler), but I do remember looking around the apartment and wondering why “they” finally decided we might share some of the same ideals—ideals I’d committed my life to promoting. I was clearly the outcast of the group, though. I felt like a fraud when I wore my “Night of Nations” T-shirt. I knew that I didn’t see Christianity as black and white as they did, so they would never truly accept me. I thought there was more than one way to do and see the faith. I didn’t go to their church, share all of their theology, or constantly talk about faith. I was less, even if it was only in my eyes.
I knew that we would never be true friends, and I couldn’t let it go.
The “missions clique” was the most admired group of people on campus, but I was so hurt by the way they made me feel with their incessant exclusion. I know now that I sometimes made others feel that way (but I never would have imagined it at the time). I don’t blame them because I hope it wasn’t intentional, but now that I’m on the other side of my faith journey, I definitely don’t miss that feeling or culture. At Cal Baptist, there was an impossible standard (that I would never meet), so I constantly struggled with becoming a “better Christian” and wondering what made them so much closer to God than me. At the same time, I didn’t want to be just like them. It was clearly a paradox.
I remember being invited to join a strategic group on campus that wanted to raise awareness about “God’s Heart for the Nations.” I don’t remember who invited me to meet with them (probably Stephanie or Tyler), but I do remember looking around the apartment and wondering why “they” finally decided we might share some of the same ideals—ideals I’d committed my life to promoting. I was clearly the outcast of the group, though. I felt like a fraud when I wore my “Night of Nations” T-shirt. I knew that I didn’t see Christianity as black and white as they did, so they would never truly accept me. I thought there was more than one way to do and see the faith. I didn’t go to their church, share all of their theology, or constantly talk about faith. I was less, even if it was only in my eyes.
I knew that we would never be true friends, and I couldn’t let it go.
5 comments:
I know there's more to come & I look forward to reading it, but I wanted to say thank you for sharing your story.
I, too, felt excluded from certain groups on campus as I am sure I did my own excluding. I may have even done my own distancing. I even felt others though I wasn't serious enough to be a part of certain groups. I remember looking at groups and events and asking myself if it made me a bad "follower" that I didn't drop everything to focus on the nations. Was I a terrible person for never applying to do ISP as a student? I would internally ask about how to find the balance for the needs abroad yet still making sure students on campus we growing.
Thanks for sharing.
I'm enjoying your stories Sherry
Sherry,
I have been reading your blog and I must say that you are an excellent writer. The aspirations I have for loving the written word are encouraged by your love for them as well.
As I was reading, of course, the “How I got from here to there” series, I realized that you were indirectly speaking about me. I think you would probably categorize me in the “missions clique” you referred to in part 2. Although, I too was excluded in the Night of Nations group meetings at first (I asked if I could be a part of it later, because I wasn’t asked originally), I was a part of it. And I know that wasn’t the only thing you were referring to, but you mentioned that one specifically.
First of all, I must let you know, that any exclusivity (is that the word?) that you felt was not intentional on my part. There were many times, to the great surprise of most, that I felt excluded by old friends from my freshman and sophomore years, so I determined in my heart not to have a certain group that I hung out with all the time. I determined to befriend everybody. Obviously my intention to be a part of a group among many groups of people that loved “missions” was seen as exclusive to some. So I just wanted to say I am sorry. That was never my personal intention. I would have loved everyone to be together. That is the complete and honest truth.
Secondly, I am again assuming, and I hope that does not make an “ass out of u and me” like the old saying goes. Lol. I am assuming that the way I lived out my Christianity at that time came across to you wrongly. I hope that I never said anything or did anything to make anyone feel inadequate or that they could not have measured up to a certain standard. The truth is that I am not the standard and I am sorry that I ever made anyone feel as if I thought I was or as if they didn’t meet it.
I always really liked you Sherry and though we were different years and didn’t hang out very often, I thought you were one of the funniest people I had ever met. You make the best cookies, and have the best decorating ability. I had an amazing time with you in Istanbul, summer of 2002.
I felt like I needed to say those things to you after reading your blog and a comment by Bekah Atkinson, and since those were public settings, I thought it would be okay to write this one public as well.
I hope that in your journey you will not judge my sincerity. That is not a criticism, just a request. I apologize if I was one who did make you feel excluded. I am sincere to the best of my limited ability. I love God. I believe He exists. I believe in His word. I believe in His Son, Jesus. AND I am inadequate and fail many times in demonstrating that.
Thanks for sharing. I really enjoy reading your thoughts. Especially about singleness, I feel a lot of the same things you do.
Sincerely,
Merea Price
and by the way, in my feelings of being excluded. It was a journey for me. I was rejected from ISP the first time I applied, wasn't invited to be a part of Night of Nations, and kicked out of a discipleship group. I am sure people don't think I had rejection and felt excluded, but I did too. So I am am sorry again if I was one who made you feel that way.
Merea
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