“Please understand,” Arthur said, as he returned the leather satchel to the windowsill behind him. “I don’t repudiate the idea of church. I simply need some time away from organized religion in order to clear my head and let some of my bruises heal. I’m also taking some time to review the New Testament teaching on the nature of the church from God’s perspective.”
“What needs to change before you can become an active churchgoer again?” I asked him. “Is it something in you, in the church, in the culture? What needs to happen in order to bring about a change in your status quo?”
“I know for sure that I need some time to rest and recuperate,” he answered. “I feel banged up and battered and a little disillusioned.”
“Are you angry?” I asked.
He started to respond, even made a little grunt, then looked away, as though he needed to think carefully about what he was going to say. He took another drink from his blue bottle of high-priced water.
“I guess I am, a bit,” he said, after a moment’s reflection.
“At what?” I asked. “Or at whom?”
“That’s just it. I think I am angry, but I have only the vaguest idea of who or what I am angry with. I’m not even sure what I am angry about. At the end of the day, I think it might be more accurate to say that I am disappointed, frustrated, a bit confused, and even a little sad.