Have you ever been hurt by someone in the church?
I'm not talking about the small stuff. I mean the kind of wound that catches you off guard. A betrayal. A sharp word from someone you trusted. A season where the place that was supposed to feel like home suddenly felt like anything but.
If that's your story, or part of your story, you're not alone. And if you've ever wondered, "Is this the end of my faith?" I want to gently offer you another possibility: it doesn't have to be.
Paul understood church hurt far more than we give him credit for.
Just read his letters. Corinth was a mess. Galatia was tense and confused. Philippi had leaders who couldn't stop fighting. Even Ephesus, one of his strongest churches, needed reminders to be patient, gentle, and to "bear with one another in love" (Ephesians 4:2). Who tells people to "bear with" each other unless they're struggling with each other?
The church may wound you, but it is Jesus who heals you.
Paul lived in the thick of relational pain within the church; this is the guy who wrote, "At my first defense, no one came to stand by me" (2 Timothy 4:16). Imagine that, years of ministry, sacrifice, love . . . and when he needed people most, everyone vanished.
If anyone had a reason to say, "I'm done with church," it was Paul.
But he didn't.
Somehow, he still believed in the beauty of Christian community. Still wrote about unity, forgiveness, and reconciliation. Still called the church the "body of Christ," even when some of the "body parts" had hurt him.
Why?
Because Paul understood something we forget:
The church may wound you, but it is Jesus who heals you.
Timothy Keller once said the church is "a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints." Francis Chan has said the church is a family that's learning how to love, often clumsily. And both are getting at the same reality Paul lived: the church is full of redeemed but unfinished people, including you and me.
And unfinished people sometimes hurt each other.
Here's what I want to tell you, not as a pastor writing a polished paragraph, but as a friend who has walked through my own bruises:
Your pain is real.
Your disappointment matters.
And Jesus sees all of it.
But being hurt in the church doesn't have to be the end of your faith story.
It might be the beginning of a new chapter. A wiser chapter. A slower, gentler, more Jesus-centered chapter. One where you learn what a healthy church can look like. One where you discover boundaries, discernment, and grace. One where you stop expecting perfection and start looking for a community that is growing toward Christ, imperfectly, but sincerely.
Maybe that means taking a breath. Maybe that means stepping into a smaller group of people. Maybe that means trying a new church. Or maybe it simply means letting Jesus tend to the parts of your heart that were bruised.
But friend, please don't confuse people's failures with God's character. Don't let the wound someone gave you become the moment you walk away from the One who loves you.
Paul never did. And the same Jesus who met him, restored him, and walked with him, is ready to meet you, too.
Your story isn't over. And this hurt doesn't have to be the end of your faith.
It might just be where healing begins again.
