
Who: Maggie, Bruce, Shannon, and Sydney
Church: Mission Chattanooga (Anglican)
Lunch: Taziki’s Mediterranean Cafe
Topics: Friendship, Community, Belonging
If I had to choose one church in Chattanooga where most of my friends attend, besides my home church, it would be Mission Chattanooga. I probably know around 50-60 people who are part of the community, and that’s without counting their kids. Although there aren’t many people in my own age group (40-50), it’s truly heartening to see the congregation filled with so many young adults and families. There’s an energy and vibrancy there that makes Mission Chattanooga a really special place.
Before moving to Chatt, I had absolutely no experience with the Anglican Church. If you have no familiarity, it’s a Christian denomination known for its blend of tradition, liturgy, and scripture-based worship. In my LIMITED experience, Anglican churches often strike a balance between honoring historical practices and being relevant to modern life. You’ll find both ancient prayers and hymns alongside more contemporary music and teachings. I’ve heard some people refer to it as a “middle road” between Catholicism and Protestantism. (I don’t know that I agree with this sentiment, but I understand it… and I think it’s a relatable comparison for those who have attended services in both traditions.)
On this particular Sunday, I saw a lot of those young people I mentioned above. My phone buzzed several times during the service. A text from some asking if I was at their church… one asking why I was at their church! (The common question: Is our family thinking about becoming members? And the answer is no.) We’re not really a “high liturgy” family. Some people love it, and I truly understand why. Our family just isn’t in that camp. And…I know this is a hot take… but, we don’t do membership.
The teaching this week was based in John 15, anchored in a sermon series about abiding, but underscoring the importance of connection and community. Full disclosure: I had a hard time tracking with it, and to be fair to the speaker, I think it’s because it was a message typically given to younger adults, specifically college students who are looking to create community. The advice was to put yourself out there, do as many things as possible, in hope of finding your place and your people, which can be great advice for college students yearning for a sense of belonging in a new community. But as someone past that stage of life, it felt a little disconnected from the reality of so many people I know.
I’ve learned that community often grows in more organic, sometimes slower, ways—through deep, intentional relationships that don’t always come from attending a large number of events or joining a lot of group. It’s less about quantity and more about quality, about being present in the spaces where you already are, investing in those around you, and allowing those connections to develop over time. I found myself reflecting on how, for me, abiding means trusting that authentic community will come through these deeper, more sustained engagements rather than constantly seeking it out in every new place.
And this is where my weekly conversation found its grounding.
The phrase “church hurt” carries a weight of shared experience for many people. It’s not just a term; it’s a marker of a deep, often unspoken, wound that many people carry from their time within a church or religious community. And I think it’s one of the reasons why so many of us are hesitant to jump back into the waters of community. I also think it’s important to acknowledge that “church hurt” has become a catch all phrase for a long list of behaviors and experiences, including, but not limited to abuse of power, gossip and conflict, legalism and indoctrination, and judgmental rejection. Not all abuse is equal, but it is critical to recognize that all forms of harm—no matter how subtle or severe—leave lasting wounds.
Each experience under the umbrella of “church hurt” affects people differently, depending on their personal history, faith, and resilience. While some may suffer deeply from spiritual abuse or emotional manipulation by leaders, others may feel hurt by the judgment and exclusion they experience within the congregation. The key is to understand that, regardless of the intensity, each experience is valid.
One of the things I really appreciated about the people gathered around our lunch table was their willingness to hold space for talking about our “church hurt” without fear that we are “hurting” the church. In many church cultures, unity is highly valued, and anything that disrupts the appearance of harmony can be labeled as divisive. As a result, when someone brings up problems or critiques the church, they may be accused of “gossiping” or “stirring the pot,” even if their concerns are legitimate. And it’s important to note that creating a safe space to air grievances and process our experiences can quickly escalate to a gossip sessions if the focus shifts from seeking understanding, healing, and resolution to simply venting frustrations or criticizing others without constructive intent. While it’s crucial to provide a place where people feel heard and validated, there’s a fine line between healthy processing and harmful gossip.
And sometimes it can be hard to tell the difference.
But, one of the things I’ve learned over the past decade is the importance in asking the right questions. Instead of fueling negative energy, asking thoughtful, open-ended questions helps guide the dialogue toward deeper understanding and growth. One of the most powerful questions I’ve ever been asked was: What would healing look like here?
This simple question has the power to transform a conversation, keeping it solution-focused and rooted in empathy rather than criticism. Asking questions like this is crucial, because without them, we risk repeating the same mistakes or falling into cycles of negativity that hinder growth. By encouraging reflection and seeking clarity, we open the door to meaningful change and a deeper understanding of ourselves and others.
We also give ourselves space to heal as a community… as a church. And we desperately need this.
CHALLENGE: Whether you’ve experienced “church hurt” or some other relational hurt, as yourself the question: What would healing look like here?