When Cliques Attack

Were you one of those semi-awkward people in high school? I know I was.

Okay, if I'm being honest, I was totally awkward.

No, I wasn't one of the stereotypical "geeky" characters as seen on TV--glasses, snorty laugh, and a persistent need to wear highwaters--but I certainly wasn't "popular." I was lucky enough to have a small group of great gal pals, so I was never without a lunch buddy.

But sometimes, I would find myself in a classroom sans my best buds. I would be stuck with...them. You know. The popular kids. The cheerleaders. The jocks. And those who somehow feel the need to wear a North Face jacket no matter the climate because, well, they can. They had their group, and while I was never blatantly ostracized, I was always aware when I wasn't "in."

Inside jokes. Sitting together. Dressing alike. Talking alike. Inseparable.

The Clique.

It's painfully uncomfortable to feel like the odd man out. Much like you have a disease that no one wants to catch. It's not that you're awful. It's just that, well, you're not part of the group.

Moving on from high school, I hoped that I would never have to feel like an outsider again. College, of course, had its own versions of the cliques (girls'-jeans-wearing emo guys, sorority girls, the music education crowd), and often summer jobs I had would bear sprinklings of cliques.

But one place you never expect to find The Clique is in church. Unfortunately, the one place you will always find The Clique is in church.

Now, I grew up in church. I became a Christian when I was six years old, and I love the Lord with all my heart. I love going to church. Every church I've ever been a member of has brought precious people into my life (including my husband), and I'm grateful that I had parents who made sure church was a significant part of my life. Since I was in the womb, Sundays and Wednesdays were church days. And other days allotted for VBS, concerts, programs, service projects, etc. were often included.

But because I've been in church my whole life, I've learned a thing or two about how things "work." Bear with me; I would like to clear my parents' names and say that they did not teach me these, nor would they see these "rules" as appropriate for how a church should function. These are merely observations I have made of the churches I have attended.

(1) You always put a smile on your face. No matter if you've just fought with your brother or sister or parents in the car ride over, and no matter if you've just lost your dog or run over a cat in the driveway, as soon as your sweetly sandaled foot hits the pavement, those pearly whites had better be showing. Churchgoers are happy people. And they ought to look so.

(2) When someone asks how you are, you say, "Fine." People ask to be polite. Not because they really care to know. Again, no matter what is going on in your life, your response must indicate contentedness and peace. Turmoil isn't supposed to get us Christians down. An optional tag to your one-word reply is "Very good Lord's Day to you." Please use sparingly.

(3) Speak to the new people--a good hand shake is always appropriate--but don't sit with them. We "regulars" have to stick together, don't you know.

(4) When something bad happens, bake a casserole--but don't stay to listen to the person vent or grieve. You did your duty with the food thing. Your work is done. After all, if the grieving person is playing by the rules, all they will say is, "Fine" (see #2).

(5) Juicy gossip can always be shared in the form of a "prayer request." Why, it's not that you're wanting to blab the news; you just want to make sure it's covered in prayer (and that you're the first one to "request" it).

(6) When the pastor's voice gets really loud during the sermon, feel free to insert a hearty "Amen." It never
hurts. And then you can go back to doodling on your bulletin.

Sigh. I know, I know. Not all churches are like this. And that's a good thing! But unfortunately, I see a lot of this "expected behavior" far too often in the church. There's a routine. Unspoken but understood rules. Things you have to do to keep up an "appearance" and a "reputation" within the church.

And one of the biggest routines is that of the Church Clique.

The Church Clique is often comprised of a group of "regulars"--perhaps 4 to 6 members (usually couples)--who will smile and nod and follow all of the rules but will only connect with other members of the clique. They will speak to you and may even ask for updates on your prayer requests. But they will never invite you to go to lunch with them. They won't invite you to their parties or Friday night get-togethers. You won't ever give a knowing chuckle when one of their inside jokes is recalled.

Yup. You can sit in the same row, the same pew, the same classroom with these people, and they will never get to know you because, well, you aren't familiar to them.

Perhaps they relished their popularity as teens and now, as adults, find it hard to break away from a caste system of sorts. Perhaps they feel that being a "regular" or being a Christian for an extended period of time somehow entitles you to be in a group that is "far above" the rest. Perhaps they are just as insecure as you are about meeting new people, but they hide it in a different manner. Perhaps they're just flat out stinking unaware of it (which I'm sure is rarely the case).

I don't know. But what I do know is how destructive the Church Clique can be. You see, the Church Clique is worse than any other because it can divide the body of Christ instead of bringing it together.

I read a blog recently that commented how interesting it was that we, as churchgoers and Christians, will often put up with a lot of things at a church, but as soon as we feel isolated or disconnected from our peers, it sends us straight out the door looking for somewhere else to worship. In the same way, frivolity and fluff may be overlooked by a churchgoer because of relationships formed within the church family. Neither situation is sound. But it does bring to light how significantly the Church Clique can affect the church body.

It can keep people in a church or prompt them to leave.

Cliques are cancerous. They eat away at a group of peers and do a disservice to both sides. Neither the outsiders nor the insiders will ever really get to know each other. And there's a good chance that both sides are missing out. It's especially pertinent when "newer" Christians are thrown into the mix because the "regulars"--who often possess more wisdom and biblical knowledge than others--might be missing out on an opportunity to mentor the newbies.

And when an outsider goes through something difficult, they often don't get the adequate support they need from those involved in the Church Clique.

Why do we feel the need to separate? Why do we feel that certain people can only befriend each other? The Lord tells us to love our neighbors as ourselves--but how can we do that if we won't give our neighbor a passing thought?

It's time we bend the rules and the routines. Branch out. Befriend someone new. Take off your mask and be real. Get the heck out of that stupid clique.

Oh. And a very good Lord's Day to you.

"Behold!  How good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!"  ~Psalm 133:1