Community of Profound Loneliness

The local church can sometimes be one of the loneliest places on Earth for me.

Churchianity tells us that people are lonely in this world because they are without Christ in their lives. If they would only accept Christ, then they would never be lonely again. So then why is it that for 13 years of being a Bible-believing Jesus-loving church-attending Christian, I always felt the loneliest during the post Sunday service "how-are-you-it's-good-to-see-you-how-was-your-week" coffee and donuts fellowship time?

Perhaps it was the simple surface salutations and greetings. Perhaps it was the lack of connection from these people during the other six days of the week. Perhaps it was the internal heart ache of seeing couples holding hands and being able to share physical affection while I sat alone during the service for yet another week - every "single" week. Perhaps it was the frustration of never feeling completely known by anyone and being tired of wearing the fake "i'm-fine-it's-good-to-see-you-too-how-are-you" plastic smiles. Perhaps it was because I hated the fact that I could get away with that kind of smile and lack of depth because I knew that no one was going to probe deeper.

Before I started this journey of mine last year, I lost count of the number of times I drove home crying after a church service . . . .

Many would say that I created this kind of church experience for myself. I was the one who failed to reach out. I was the one who didn't take the initiative in participating in the "fellowship time". I was the one who was so self-focussed on my own needs that I missed the opportunity of serving other people's needs. I was the one who chose to stay disconnected despite other people's attempts to "connect" with me.

That's what they'd often say when ever I tried to verbalize the disconnectedness that I was feeling within the church. It's my fault, they'd say.

Do I really need to hear that? This tough-love "stop being a victim" approach to addressing my cries for help by simply redirecting my frustrations - away from them and resting on me. It's my fault, not theirs.

They'd say that it's my fault that I'm lonely but they are unwilling to consider that they could possibly make some adjustments as well in order to contribute to a better community.

I can acknowledge that there are things that I can do to stimulate my own sense of community within the church. But the thing that always pissed me off about how some of these people responded was that they never tried to understand why I was feeling so lonely. They never tried to grieve with me. It was the "shake it off, it doesn't hurt that bad" kind of response.

Sure there are things that I could have done to not live in the loneliness, but it was their lack of compassion for my loneliness that fueled my loneliness. Bitterness, even. So then why would I want to share my heart and open up to these kinds of people? They don't get to hear the real reasons why I am so sad.

They don't get to hear that it's often difficult to be in a crowded room being burdened with the thought, "i'm the only one". Is there anyone else in this church that is like me? What will they think of me if they knew who I really am? Why does it seem like everyone else is coupled? Why am I not allowed to embrace someone that I care about? Why doesn't this seem fair? Why are my affections never reciprocated? Why can't I talk about any of this with any of them? Why doesn't anyone want to understand me?

Why won't anyone walk with me?

There is a community within the Church that simply wants to be understood - to be known. We are a community of profound loneliness. All we want is the connection promised to us when we were told that Christ would comfort us.

I am thankful to God that my journey over these past several months has released me from much of this kind of disconnectedness and loneliness. Even though I do not feel this kind of profound loneliness anymore, some of those feelings still linger - it's still tough sometimes to sit through a service as a single person amidst a crowd of people. But the Lord taught me alot about connection during these times of disconnection.

#1: I'm not alone.

Even when it seemed like no one else understood me, no one else was walking with me, no one else stood up for me - there was always Jesus. The One thing that I learned that I could truly count on - Christ, my Friend. It was during the lonely car rides home after church service that I knew that He was there with me. It was in the dark room laying on my bed crying at 3 a.m. that I knew that He was there with me. It was in the shower when I ran the hot water over my head with both my hands covering my face paralyzed to move by the thoughts racing through my mind that I knew that He was there with me. It was on the university campus promenade walking alone with my head down as fellow students passed by laughing with their friends and me wondering if my friends would ever accept me for who I was that I knew that He was there with me. It was at work sitting at my desk listening to co-workers telling tales of times with their girlfriends and me longing to have such stories that I knew that He was there with me. In the midst of loneliness, there He was.

#2: There are blessings around me.

Sometimes, I'd focus my attention so much on receiving the affection of a single person that i'd miss out on the blessing of appreciating the many other people in my life that actually were present. These were the people that God placed in my life - people for me to connect with. I would sometimes fixate on the one while ignoring the many. As a result, I would connect with no one. It's at these moments when He showed me that I had set up an idol in my heart. The relational idolatry was bound to make me feel perpetually lonely and disconnected because it was an illusion that I was seeking - a fantasy of perfect connection with what is in reality imperfect. I had many friends around me that I could have invested the time to develop depth so that I could be known if only I would acknowledge the fact that they are indeed there.

#3: Be the kind of friend that I want.

I can't change other people. I can't make them be what I want them to be. Doing this is simply manipulation. I realized that I had to be willing to take the initiative of being the friend to others that I wanted for myself. I realized that I don't simply find "true friends" as if stumbling upon them by accident. We develop "true friends" by investing the time to create history of memories and trust.

I'm learning to apply these three things that Christ taught me during my loneliness so that I can experience freedom from it. I discovered choice. I didn't want to be lonely anymore. He showed me that I didn't have to be.

Now, eight months or so into this new season of my life long journey, I don't feel as profoundly lonely as I used to. I have friends that I feel safe enough to be real with. I have friends who are still friends even after knowing about me. I have family that support me. I am now trying to be more intentional about developing depth in my relationships. I'm extending the invitations for lunch or to go out for coffee or tea. I'm extending the invitations to join me for a movie. I'm extending the invitations for others to tell me more about themselves. I'm extending the invitations for small dinner parties where friends from different circles can come together and make new friends.

Sometimes I think how ironic it is that God uses me to be a bridge builder within His Church and in the community. It's not like i've perfected those three lessons - i'm still trying to figure it all out, trying to live it out when i'm lonely (and I am still lonely many times). I figure I've got to be the wrong man for this type of work because what do I know about connection with people?

I suppose it's His sense of humor.

Leave it to God to use a socially awkward introverted gay lonely man to stimulate connection and unity in His Kingdom.