Turning Silos into Lighthouses
A Reflection on Moving Forward
I waited until this day was done to write this post for Tuesday and then I had no words. I found this piece in my drafts and now that the silos have become entrenched, I find my work even more important. I stand with those who turned silos into lighthouses and warned of danger. Only time will tell if our warnings about the harm that would come to the marginalized in our nation come to fruition. I know many survivors feel betrayed by those called to care about them. That saddens me deeply and I will continue to encourage healing, speak truth to power, and share my simple faith in a God who wept over me as I cried and continues to send me hope in surprisingly simple ways.
This is an adaptation of a Facebook (FB) post from November 23, 2023. While this post was about the belief that the church is harmed by those who speak up about abuse, the same dynamic occurs when anyone addresses the harm being done when the church colludes with those who are politically motivated by power.
Power and religion are a dangerous duo. When the modern church aligns with power to achieve its goals, what occurs is much like what nailed Jesus to the cross. It isn’t surprising when powerful religious leaders align with powerful political leaders—they both are motivated by power. What was remarkable though in the case of Jesus was how quickly the crowd turned against him when power walked into the room.
If the powerful control the narrative and those under their influence follow that lead, a silo is created. If everyone around us thinks the same thing we do, it is hard to stand back and remember that Jesus never used power to fulfill his mission. Never. In fact, the temptations in the desert were all about not doing that.
I have been considering how social media analytics builds silos. If you click on an ad for socks—intentionally or unintentionally—you will quickly realize how vast the number of sock companies actually are. In a similar way, we only see the people and the ads that we engage with. If we aren't clicking, reacting, commenting, or viewing someone's posts it won't be long until they no longer show up on our feed. It is remarkable how quickly our Facebook world can narrow.
I have to remind myself of this occasionally because it would be easy to believe everyone in the world is engaging in understanding the impact of trauma, supporting social justice causes, and being concerned about those who have experienced religious trauma in faith communities. In reality, other silos believe trauma is a new buzzword, social justice is an attempt at blaming and/or enabling, and speaking about religious trauma is harming the church.
Silos are polarizing because once you solidly sit inside one, you dare not voice concerns or agree with anything that might appear to be from a different silo. This has never been any more obvious than during a major election like the one we faced in 2024. Right now having different political beliefs has somehow become an affront to the church and the cause of Christ. Our silos look like this:
It is easy to believe that those two circles that represent silos are so diametrically opposed to each other that there can be no consensus. In reality, one circle is white without the stripe and the other is white with the stripe. We get so focused on the difference that we can’t see what is in common.
A reminder of how different perspectives can be in different silos occurred when a friend shared a meme about church harm/abuse. The comment sections were a collision of silos—not in a good way. I had mistakenly believed that, though not all will be as vocal as I am about religious trauma, people in general know that the church is not always a safe place. The comment section showed me otherwise.
When politics was invited to church (not all churches did this), the defense of the church morphed into a defense of those who the church had politically embraced. This political offense came to be seen as an offense to God. We have now reached the point where a political disagreement is an affront against the church. This is the danger of living in silos—loving one another becomes less important than agreeing with one another.
Are there churches where people are known for how they love one another? Absolutely. Are there churches where the issues of the day can be discussed? Absolutely. Are there churches that are reaching out in love to communities? Absolutely. All of these are true AND it is also true that a wide swath of the church in America has too closely aligned the power structures with the cause of Christ—something that is more like oil and water.
The future of the church depends on our not burying our heads in the sand—or refusing to listen to anyone not living in our silo. Asking probing questions is not an affront. Disagreeing is not being divisive. The only way for a church—or person—to mature in healthy ways is to be self-reflective and that never happens unless we believe that someone else might have an insight we haven’t considered.
In every encounter that Jesus had with people, he asked probing questions. He was brutal with his evaluation of established religion. The charge of being a "whited sepulcher" was intended to reveal the darkness underneath. Much of what he saw was systemic—in other words, it had been done that way for so long that the harm wasn’t easily seen—because the powerful were doing fine.
There is no way to be more like Jesus than to call out religious power and champion the causes of the downtrodden and marginalized. He was completely comfortable talking with religious leaders who were curious. He defied the idea of living in a silo by surrounding himself with a diverse group of followers. The religious leaders who hated him created a silo by never sitting down and having a legitimate discussion with him. They only followed him to find a way to trap him—unsuccessfully, I might add.
Twenty years ago, I lived in a church silo. I carefully hid all the ways I did not feel comfortable there. I listened to the appropriate news sources, read the right books, voted the right way, and only hung out with those who lived in the silo. My work, friendships, and church life all were concentrated in that silo. I believed the leaders who told me that the enemy was outside the gate ready to destroy me. Then the leaders in the silo kicked me out and it was the most painful and important moment in my life.
The only hope for the church as we know it, is honest self-reflection. Watch the documentaries, read the books, and engage with the conversations. The church is being harmed by those who defend it, not by those who speak about abuse. If the church—and God?—are so fragile that honest reflection will destroy it, then it needs an overhaul.
Oddly, those who are being honest are being viewed as "the forces of hell" that are attacking, and those who either harm or hold the coats feel the church is under attack. How would things have been different if those who Jesus called whited sepulchers had been honest and admitted that their practices were harming the people they were called to serve?
It is worth imagining.