Why pity is an insensitive word to use when people leave the church

I was once a part of the world of like-minded people meeting to sing and listen to the word of God with eagar anticipation every Sunday morning. It was a huge part of my life and who I was; it was my source of strength and the lens that I tried my best to view the world through. I recognize that when one chooses to leave their former life behind and take up the cross, it's life-altering. It is the very foundation of all that one chooses to do. It dictates how you are able to love people. But what happens when you leave that world behind, and no longer accept that your life is owed to Christ's death on the cross? There were people who shared this core part of what it meant to be human with me, who loved me because Christ loved me first and I returned that love to him. And when you lose your love for Christ, others are quick to say one thing: "I pity you."

pity

noun

1. 1.

   the feeling of sorrow and compassion caused by the suffering and misfortunes of others.
2. 2.

   a cause for regret or disappointment.

I want to first say that it is already a very challenging realization to come to, to accept that you are no longer going to be a part of something so vast. When you've spent years telling others about how loving, accepting, and hopeful Christ and his followers are, it is painful and defeating to hear that others now only feel as though your choices are disappointing and that they believe you are suffering. On that note, I also recognize that based on a Christian worldview, it only makes sense to say that anyone who does not accept Christ as their saviour is technically suffering. From that lens, pity does appear on the surface to be the appropriate emotion to feel for those of us who tasted Heaven and decided it tasted like something we cannot stomach and made us nauseous. But I resent being told that I am pitied for my decisions, and I don't believe it is a loving emotion, nor is it helpful. I don't even believe it is appropriate to come out to someone whose Jesus wounds are fresh and say, "I find you pitiful. I pity your life now."

I am inclined to accept that you believe they are missing out on a beautiful part of life. I can accept sadness. And of course I will accept love; that should be given regardless of differences in worldviews. What I cannot accept is that you think I am worth any less than I was before.

I think that if all people are created in God's image and you believe that to be true, I am still a human being just like you. I may not see the world as what it is for you, but I have the same basic makeup. I am flesh and bones and I feel, deeply. And if your pity is warranted, then any disdain I may begin to feel towards Christ or his people can be justified. I am the least likely to ever be receptive to religion if others continue to be condescending to me about what I have discovered for my life. I don't mean to say that I hate my old life or anyone who chooses to live in that fashion. I simply don't have those feelings. I don't hate individuals, I dislike harmful ideology and practices (though that's a post for another day). But there are people who leave, fall into irrepairable pieces, and are then thrown remarks about how pitied they are. When you've felt the love of Christ and the love of other people, it is a challenge to see how such an emotion can be felt towards someone if only for the reason that they are searching for themselves and a purpose in life. For some, it wasn't found in Christ, the Bible, or any church group. And that doesn't mean they weren't receptive to the Spirit, or too disobedient, or possessed by demons. And they are no less moral than when they identified as a Christian.

I know first-hand what the church and its people are capable of. They are capable or love, grace, and forgiveness. That is what I want to feel. And I believe I would still be able to feel God's grace through his people if they did anything but pity me. We are all flawed, it is not only the people like myself. Christ's people are flawed, too, and they are loved. By him, and still by me. And do you know who I am? I am Sarah. I am who I was before, and if I might be so bold, I believe I am now the most like myself I have ever been. You know what your freedom looks like in Christ, and I feel I am free in myself and the love I am still able to give freely to others.

Please don't pity me.
Please don't patronize me.