Sometimes you can't go home again

Liz Peters stepped out of her vehicle in the church parking lot and spoke to an older couple, the Lewis's, who were parked next to her. She remembered them from childhood and was happy to see them. She had spent a lot of time at their home with other children.

Each mumbled "Good morning," but it was not a friendly greeting. As she waited for her husband, Mark, to exit the car, the couple picked up their steps as if trying to get away. Liza thought this odd, as Mr. and Mrs. Lewis had always been kind and loved to chat.

Just before entering the building, the wife said, "She's got nerve showing up here." The husband nodded in agreement and added, "True, she no longer belongs in this church."

When Liz walked through the door of the small country church she attended as a child and young adult, she immediately felt the chill. Everyone was looking at her as if she did not belong, and she felt like Hester Prynne from The Scarlet Letter, only she had no idea why.

This was the second time in three months she had visited her home church, since leaving 12 years earlier. She assumed the people she grew up with would welcome her, as they had previously, but only one person did. 

Clint Brown, Jane's husband, who was a member of a different church. Jane and her mother, Cindy Harris, were standing a few feet away, glaring at her, and did not speak. 

Liz did not hear Mrs. Harris ask, "Why is she here? She should not have come," and Jane replied Right, she does not belong here." Mary Johnson walked right past her with her nose turned up. When she spoke to Deacon Brett Sanders, he responded with "Hmmph" and turned his head.

After Elizabeth and Bob found a seat, trustee Will Hayden came over and asked Bob if, as a minister, he wanted to sit in the pulpit, but Bob declined. The offer was not extended to Liz, who was also a minister.

As she walked to the front during the offering, she passed and spoke to Melanie Preston, who did not respond but whispered to her sister, Jennie Jackson: "Liz should not have come back here." 

Liz did not hear the comment but saw the look on their faces. She was thinking that this was not Christian love and fellowship from the people she had grown up with, attended school and church with. Liz, her brothers, and later her children had been baptized here, but now she felt like an outsider.

Three months ago, everyone had been so welcoming, and she wondered what had changed. After communion was served, it was customary to shake hands before leaving the building. Liz watched as some people shook her husband's hand but not hers. 

After service, she went to the restroom, where two of her former neighbors ignored her. After she left, one of them said, "She's got some nerve; she should not have come back here and the other responded with, "I know that's right."

On the drive home, Liz asked Bob if he had noticed how the members of her home church had treated her, and he said, "No." She realized that he had been welcomed, and he did not have her intuitive spirit to pick up when things were off.

A few weeks later, Liz was talking with her cousin Rena, who shed some light on the situation. The church members had been told during a meeting that Liz had written a Facebook post putting them down after her visit three months prior. 

They were stunned when she dared to show up for service, and the consensus was that she no longer belonged and shouldn't have come.

Liz recalled a few months back, while visiting her aunt's church, a guest preacher was not allowed to serve communion because he was not an ordained pastor, so the deacons took charge. 

She had recalled that this was the way her childhood church and a church a cousin attended operated, but other congregations allowed a visiting minister who was not a pastor to serve communion.

She had posed the question of why the difference in denominations on Facebook, but did not identify any of the churches where the deacons decided. 

Only two of her FB friends attended her former church, and she assumed one of them had misunderstood her post as a put-down and alerted th church members.

Liz explained to Rena that she asked what she believed was a harmless question and did not name any churches in her post. Rena must have relayed the information because things were different at the funeral of a childhood friend a few months later.

The service was at the funeral home and Liz gave remarks and prayed. Afterward, Deacon Brett, who had said "Hmmph" at her home church, smiled and spoke to her as did three other members of her childhood congregation.

Liz decided not to hold grudges, but the damage was done. Those whom she had believed were her brothers and sisters in Christ had turned on her over a misunderstanding. 

They mistreated her on the Sunday when church members are told to not have any unforgiveness in their hearts so they can be worthy to partake of Holy Communion. 

Her former church family and members of her community had made it clear that she no longer belonged with them. 

Liz acknowledged in hindsight that she probably should not have written the post, and she was glad the miscommunication had been cleared up, but she learned three valuable lessons.

The sayings that you can't go home again and there is no hurt like church hurt were true in this situation, and she no longer belonged in the congregation where she spent the first 30 years of her life.