This past holiday season, one of my son’s middle school teachers communicated that they were not allowed to wish anyone Merry Christmas. Any and all reminders of the holiday were stripped out of the classroom. Even Santa. Classmates were allowed to wish someone a happy generic day, but that was the extent of it. He threw his backpack on the kitchen table and vented, “If we’re not allowed to celebrate Chanukah or Christmas, then why don’t we just go to school on the 25th?”

Ours was not an isolated incident. In towns and communities across the country, those outside of the Judeo-Christian culture became emboldened and demanded the removal and eradication of any “religious” public displays claiming that such objects made them feel uncomfortable and violated their Constitutional rights. Menorahs and creche’s unceremoniously disappeared from view.

This trend troubles me because it signals a shift towards intolerance, all the while proclaiming the the gospel of tolerance. What’s actually happening is that Americans seem to have the mistaken idea that they should never be made to feel uncomfortable or have their feelings hurt. Anytime someone espouses a belief that radically differs from our own, we whine, protest, and decry that bogeyman who dares encroach upon our sacred turf. If you are in one of the groups that’s in power, this can be quite advantageous. If you happen to be in a minority (ie Muslim, non-white, female, etc.), you have to contort yourself so as to not disturb the peace.

This is a particularly disturbing development when it happens inside the church, under the guise of being seeker friendly.

My husband and I have, until recently, been part of a church which took very seriously the mandate to not offend anyone who walked through the doors. Leaders used inclusive language from the front. Political predilections were seldom expressed. This mindset trained us to be more thoughtful in how we communicated. This is a good thing.

And it’s also potentially problematic. If we go too far in making the gospel safe, we emasculate it. The irreducible message of the gospel—that we are sinners in need of being saved—is offensive. I have been following after Jesus for more than three decades and it still makes me bristle. Love those who betray me? Offer someone my camera bag when they steal my camera? Forgive those who make me bleed? You’re kidding, aren’t you?

Only Jesus wasn’t kidding. He told us, and then demonstrated for us, that to align ourselves with Him meant we must be willing to give up everything: relationships, certain forms of pleasure, bitterness, our need to be liked, and our “right” to never feel discomfort or pain.
When we demand that churches dance around our wounds, we miss the opportunity to have Jesus heal those wounds. If certain songs make us feel sad, which we’d prefer to avoid, and we communicate our preferences to the worship leader, we allow our brokenness to make the gospel smaller. On the other side, if as leaders, we evaluate everything solely through the filter of whether or not we’ll offend and fall from popularity, we are in danger of idolatry: caring more about pleasing men than pleasing God.

On both sides, the propensity to avoid conflict or hurt feelings eradicates diversity. It sends a subtle though clear message to those present that You better tuck in. If you don’t play by my rules, then I will shut you down and take away your rights. True tolerance is not “You stay in your corner with your folk and I’ll stay in mine,” but rather, “I don’t necessarily agree with you but I care about you and want to hear you out.”

I don’t want to intentionally hurt anyone and as a leader, I stretch pretty far to accommodate. But if offending others becomes the litmus test for voicing our opinions and core beliefs, we might as well all take vows of silence for the remainder of our days.

Please hear me out. Christians the world over would do well to evaluate if our lives and words accurately represent Christ or simply our own ideologies. We should grow in our awareness of the pain that others face, sometimes caused or exacerbated by our thoughtlessness. I am all for sensitivity.

That said, I do believe that as church leaders, if the goal is not to offend, we run the risk of becoming boring co-dependents. The true gospel is not boring. A Jesus-centered church empowers, heals, turns our world upside down, and if done well, ought to make us feel uncomfortable on a regular basis.

Thoughts?