Last year, after helping move heavy equipment at a ministry event, I injured my back, eventually needing medical help and medication.
Thinking and acting like I was still 25, I overexerted myself and landed in a world of hurt.
With physiotherapy, time, and a good dose of humility, I recovered, but the pain lasted for months.
There is another kind of hurt that can last months or years, and sadly, some people never fully recover.
It is the internal pain that comes from circumstances or harm inflicted by others, and men are not immune.
One form of that pain is “church hurt,” and its effects can be devastating.
These are wounds caused when people, actions, or systems within faith communities make the household of faith feel less like a place of refuge and more like a UFC ring.
TheosU defines it as “…the pain, sadness, emotional scarring, or abuse experienced in a church context. Church Hurt can be inflicted, intentionally or unintentionally, by laity or religious leaders.”
Church hurt can be one of the worst forms of pain a man can experience. When the place designed by God for love, safety, and care becomes a source of emotional, psychological, or spiritual pain, it feels like betrayal. It can fracture relationships, disillusion us, deconstruct our faith, and cause long-term fallout.
Church hurt can be one of the worst forms of pain a man can experience. When the place designed by God for love, safety, and care becomes a source of emotional, psychological, or spiritual pain, it feels like betrayal.
While many guys recite the “no pain, no gain” mantra for sports and work, men are especially vulnerable to church hurt’s consequences due to these realities:
- Emotions and pain are often minimized by men.
- Culture pressures men to adopt versions of masculinity that mask weakness.
- Pain management can be a badge of honor for men to “grin and bear it.”
- Rugged male individualism emphasizes solo problem solving, with relationships and community as secondary.
Research consistently identifies conflict, hypocrisy, unhealthy leadership, and harmful community dynamics as significant contributors to church hurt.
Barna has found that more than 27% of U.S. adults say their religious doubts stem from past experiences with a religious institution, and that 37% of unchurched adults say hurtful or negative interactions with Christians or churches continue to affect them.
Sadly, church hurt happens all too frequently, from minor disagreements to deep trauma. No matter the severity, we must never diminish, condone, or justify it.
Scripture shows that hurt from those closest to us isn’t new.
Sadly, church hurt happens all too frequently, from minor disagreements to deep trauma. No matter the severity, we must never diminish, condone, or justify it.
When Job was afflicted by the devastating loss of his wealth, family, and health, he was surrounded by friends who sat with him in grief (Job 2:11-13). But their compassion soon turned to criticism, and they began to accuse him unjustly and hurt him deeply.
In Job 19:2 (NLT), he said to those same friends, “How long will you torture me? How long will you try to crush me with your words?”
David often felt the pain of betrayal from enemies, as well as from friends and family: “I am scorned by all my enemies and despised by my neighbors—even my friends are afraid to come near me. When they see me on the street, they run the other way” (Psalm 31:11 NLT).
Then there was the apostle Paul, who described his many hurts: “In hard traveling year in and year out, I’ve had to ford rivers, fend off robbers, struggle with friends, struggle with foes. I’ve been at risk in the city, at risk in the country, endangered by desert sun and sea storm, and betrayed by those I thought were my brothers” (2 Corinthians 11:26 MSG).
Paul faced dangers, deprivations, and deep concerns, but those last words must have carried a particular sting.
It is one thing to be hurt by enemies or hardships; it is another when the hurt comes from those who should be different.
We cannot know the full impact on Paul’s emotional, relational, and spiritual health, but his wounds were not weaknesses; they were scars that bore witness to God’s work through him.
In Job’s, David’s, and Paul’s lives, trauma shaped these men and showcased God’s power and sustaining grace. Hurts shouldn’t be minimized, but they need not derail us.
So how does a man get over church hurt?
Often, it’s not about getting over it but about getting through it. The severity of the hurt will affect the length of recovery and the type of remediation needed. There is no silver bullet, but there is hope if we take initial steps on the road toward healing:
Name It. Don’t bury or forget pain, as buried hurts live on and always return. Identify and express them appropriately to trustworthy people.
Grieve It. Sadness is an all-too-important emotion that is okay for men to feel, yet we often suppress it. A whole book of the Bible is called Lamentations, which teaches us to express sadness in holy and healthy ways.
Practice Through It. When in pain, our instinct is to withdraw from God instead of seeking Him. Continue your devotional practices even when His presence feels absent. He hasn’t abandoned you; He is with you and for you.
Separate It. Church hurt can lead to anger at the Church and God. God is perfect; people are not. This doesn’t excuse those who cause pain, but helps prevent misdirected anger, blaming God, and losing faith.
Find Help For It. While withdrawing from others is tempting, hope exists through friends, pastors, or counselors. You may need a new faith community, but don’t do this alone. You were made for community, where you can heal and help others.
I myself have been deeply wounded by the Church despite my passion for it. When attacked, the hurt was profound. Memories occasionally still trigger pain, but they remind me of His nearness and how He has used the bad for good.
I’m a huge U2 fan, drawn to the raw emotion in their music and lyrics.
Their recent song “Scars” is a powerful reminder that hurts don’t define us, and we’re not alone in our pain:
I’m the name on the form that demands your release
I’m the silence when you grieve
I’ll keep you company
Even if you don’t believe that it’s me
Don’t cover your scars…they’re your scars
It’s your scars that give you beauty.
Our scars are unique markers of beauty that show God’s redemptive ability to turn sorrow into joy and hurt into hope. They remind men that we can overcome pain, find real community, and become instruments in the Master’s hands
Maybe “no pain, no gain” is a thing after all.
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