When Your Church is Happy You Are Sick

Living life with chronic illness comes with its own struggles to overcome, along with the added reality that your new "normal" may look entirely different. Of all the many things a person faces when confronted with an unexpected health condition, the questions of Why me? Why this? What did I do to deserve my health failing? can often be visited in the mind of a chronically ill patient.

I grew up in an environment that always knew the answer to these questions: God made you sick. 

Witnessing a manner of all illness afflict many an individual during my time in the Christian Fundamentalist movement, I don't have to traverse long down a path in my mind to recall the reasons why God would allow sickness in a follower's life. It was always one of two reasons: A trial for a believer to overcome and bring God the glory once they were healed, or the direct result of an unrepentant sin committed. 

The latter reasoning tended to be the most widely accepted opinion in-group. It seemed every time we turned around, that person just recently diagnosed with a health problem had been given that condition because they did X and hence, God gave Y. It was easy to trivialize a person's hardship by writing it off and just concluding that they were a bad person. Committed "adultery"? Get cancer. Missed a church service? Here's a short-term illness to test your dedication–now, you have the chance to prove how much you love God by being faithful to the house of God even through a trial. A simple dress infraction coupled with the rebellion to not fall back into line could result in judgement, too.

Even if sickness was not said to be that resulting from God's judgment, still you could be shamed for slacking in your service to the "cause of Christ."

I remember members shamed for "giving into their flesh" by not showing up and participating in church activities while receiving chemotherapy treatments. I can recall children being brought to sit under the pastor's preaching while running fevers; a consistent scenario that continued to play out. There were immunocompromised individuals told to just attend meetings regardless, that God would protect them. 

I witnessed a loved one with severe chronic facial pain being mocked and called a "monster" when their face distorted while experiencing the beginning symptoms of the most severe pain known to mankind. It wounded them, and even after leaving, that shaming can still be a bully in their head. And although I have yet to obtain a diagnosis, I was shamed for not participating in church services due to severe migraines numerous times a week and other forms of illness. During my early teen years, I started to develop chronic allergies, asthma, and combined with anxiety, struggled to breathe. I had a grown man "tease" me about this, refusing to use my name to get my attention, but instead referred to me simply with the sound of his throat being cleared. This went on for years...it angers me in hindsight that I would answer to it. But not answering to an adult, let alone a male? Well, a girl just didn't do that. All of this only made me that more self conscious. The irony is that in the end, part of what had me leaving was a part of what I was ridiculed for. As I've said, in this case, I've never been more thankful to become sick in my life.

To think that before falling out of favor of my group, it was suggested that I consider the practice of "the laying on of hands" so that I could get back to giving my 110% in service. Sometimes, some members facing illness would come before the church and be anointed with oil on their heads. The pastor and elders (always and only ever men, this being the only acceptable time to touch a woman) would then lay hands on the sick who was usually kneeling in the center of the circle they created. One by one, they would beseech God to heal the one who was ill, their pleas of healing loud and clear.  Although an emotionally charged scene to witness, I had never watched this practice lead to healing. 

Key to working through life with chronic illness is the ability to rest, avoid stress, and truly practice self care. Without those things, your quality of life can be greatly diminished. But if you're subjected to an environment that finds fault in this, that views taking care of your health as selfishness, "humanistic" or the refusal to rely on God, it's impossible to adequately take care of yourself. Physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually these spiritually abusive environments can truly wreck havoc on those with chronic illness. 

I think the saddest and honestly most heartbreaking aspect of these strict environments, and particularly the group I left–the Independent Fundamental Baptist movement–is the practice of turning over a "backslidden" believer to God. This could entail they (or someone they love) be punished, receiving God's judgment in the form of being stricken with a disease or illness, even to the point of death. I have personally been on the receiving end of this practice three times. The first was by a relative, who like me had also been born and raised in the movement. This individual called on the church to pray "God would do whatever it takes to get me right with Him." At the time, I had missed church for only 2 weeks due to trauma and my health. The second was for the same reason, but by an elderly couple who sent a card shortly after telling me to "get right with God." I ripped the card in half and stomped on it, never telling another sibling who the card had also been addressed to about it till much later. The final time: A year ago after just one month of writing this blog by another family member who's also in-group as of today (if you're reading this, I hope you leave, too, and when you do, I'm going to celebrate with you). Not a prayer or a card, but a public social media post. You see, in an environment that professes to love, their “love” is to love a loved one even into sickness. If the end (eternal salvation) justifies the means (sickness), then that's love in their interpretation. Simply put: They will accept you having a short life if it means you gain eternal life.

As a supporter to loved ones with chronic illness, the idea that a god, especially out of wrath or spite, would strike them with these illnesses is preposterous to me. The very idea angers the hell out of me and I'm totally fine with saying it's not fair, that life has its definite cruel moments. 

I've sat there, unable to do anything but hold the hand of someone I care about as pain wrecks their body. I've looked on, swallowing back the lump in my throat as I watched someone I dearly love struggle making it from one side of the room to the other without hitting full exhaustion. Feeling helpless, because my only ability is to hug them extra tenderly, as even the slightest of pressure points can trigger an attack of pain, is literally all I can do. All I can do is reassure these individuals I love more than anything in the world, that we're going to figure this out. Together. 

What I've found is love doesn't look to inflict additional pain. Not the love for another, not the love of a god, not the love of an all powerful being. Love is to be a comforter, a counselor, a bringer of peace. A love of compassion, of kindness, of healing. Of support, strength, and a love of striving to be the very best versions of ourselves, aiming for the ultimate goal–to give a damn about the other person. Not wishing or even praying God will break them, but that He will lift them up. 

Those with chronic illness are too often the broken in fundamentalism. 

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