Did you know that being a pastor’s kid is a lot like being in the Mafia? Well, it is.
And growing up as a pastor’s kid, I think I may have adopted a little too much of a “Mafia mentality.” Don’t worry, I didn’t commit many serious crimes, but I also didn’t commit to friendships that got too close.
Think about it: to be in the Mafia (so I’m told), your family must be in "the business", you have to live by a standard of beliefs, and you always look out for your brothers and sisters. And as they say, once you’re in the Mafia, there’s no getting out. (Technically I think Kelly Slater said that, but I won’t tell if you don’t). Yes, these are the things that go on in my brain. You’re welcome.
Mistakenly, I had this idea as a kid that if I stayed friends with someone who left our church, somehow I was being disloyal to Jesus himself…. as if my church was the only church Jesus attended on a Sunday. And without realizing or intending it, in my childish mind, I decided that when people don’t meet my expectations, it’s easier to end than to fight for the friendship. Circle the wagons! Board up the windows! It’s self-preservation, the pursuit of perfection, and God knows that’s only here between these four walls!
My ‘Mafia mentality’ governed me, so when people made a decision to leave our church it was like a decision to leave ‘La Familia’… And that meant I said goodbye to a lot of really good people. With friendships, “Arrivederci” was easier to say. Attachment was much harder to do.
Maybe you can relate to this, maybe not. But I do hope you can see the underlying issue that goes beyond pastors’ kids and the Mafia.
In a world of instant gratification and shallow validation, how do we fight for the friendships that are Biblical? You know, "iron sharpening iron"?
In a world that celebrates followers, my heart craves the friendships I read about in the Bible that stand on more important things:
"Don't ask me to leave you and turn back. Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you live, I will live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God.” (Ruth 1:16)
“They had such a sharp disagreement that they parted company. Barnabas took Mark and sailed for Cyprus.” (Acts 15:39)
“the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.”(I Sam 18:1)
Jesus laid down his life while I didn’t even know I needed Him, a relationship that was founded on underserved forgiveness and unrequited love. In a world with instant access to "followers", it’s so much easier to hit the ‘unfollow’ button instead of pick up the phone. This has resulted in us keeping people outside our white picket fence instead of letting them see our dirty kitchen sink, and maybe strengthening the friendship through the trials.
I wish I had learned earlier that messy friendships mean more than manicured ones.
The question is: How do we have real friendships? You know, the type of friends that climb through the phone and onto our couch beside us; the ones that at times get a little "too close for comfort"? I mean, the type of friendships that offend us by their very closeness and imperfection? Those that love us when we get ugly, draw close when we push them away, and feel so much more like family at times than those that share our surname?
In a world that created filters to cover faults, we have forgotten that it’s those "faulted friendships" that make life so rich and rewarding, so maddening and yet so meaningful!
Filter, you say? Yes! We "filter our own faults" because we know how unforgiving our world has become. Ironically we cover up the very thing we crave. Authenticity. Because, let’s be honest: Don’t we constantly crave the moments that we get to look upon someone else’s imperfect humanity and are able to say “me too”?
It’s like looking in a mirror, and once we get over our selfie reflection, we realize that we can all help one another. Our friendships are the vehicle God often uses to heal us. I know for me it’s the heart conversations in friendships that allow me to feel human again.
Jesus said to come to Him like a child, but He never asked us at carry the fate of the world or the church as a child… And I think a lot of us missed that, including myself.
Lord, help me to see the beauty and the lessons in messy friendships, and to become more like You along the way.
Elyse is a writer, pastor, international speaker, and wife. Her experiences of life as a pastor’s kid have led Elyse to write her first book “Confessions of a Church Kid.” Elyse now resides in Los Angeles, working with young adults and ministering as one of the pastors at Oasis Church in Downtown Hollywood. Connect with Elyse on her blog.
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