Me and church: a never-ending tension

As a teenager, I started experiencing church from the inside. Not just from the outside, but actively involved, right in the middle of it. And honestly: I quickly got the feeling that I didn’t fit in.

I tried to do what was modeled for me; I tried to adapt. But inside I experienced a tension that produced a lot of frustration. From time to time I was at war with church. Mostly on the inside, but unfortunately far too often on the outside as well. I wanted to love the body of Jesus, but I found it very hard.

At some point I started asking myself: What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel like a rebel in a system I actually love? Why is there no room for what my heart burns for? I didn’t want to be a rebel. But I often felt like one.

Healing begins when Jesus speaks

At one point I was part of a community where this tension was barely noticeable. It was healing. But Jesus sent me to a new place, and with the next move and a new church, the tension was back.

So I took this question to Jesus: Why do I experience so much frustration with your body? What’s wrong with me?

And what he told me then changed my life:

Esther, I have called you to be the bridge over which people come into the local community. That’s why you will always experience this tension. You will never belong to the inner circle. But you will always belong to me and be part of my body.

Since then, not everything has been resolved. But it has found its place.

Today I understand better where this tension comes from. And that it doesn’t mean I’m wrong. It is part of my calling.

Why do we talk so little about tensions like this in church?

I’m not alone in this. I regularly talk with people who experience exactly the same thing:

  • They love Jesus and want to be part of a church.
  • But they keep running into invisible walls.
  • They feel like outsiders, even though they belong.
  • And I ask myself: Why don’t we talk about this?

Why do we so rarely help people take these tensions seriously, instead of ignoring them or blaming themselves? Why don’t we help people look deeper, to recognize where these tensions come from and to listen to what Jesus says about them? Sometimes it seems easier to let people go, to ignore them or even to push them out of the community because they disrupt things or don’t fit. Or it’s easier to leave and point the finger at the church instead of taking an honest look at yourself. Jesus has a better way for us.

What Paul actually wants to give us: Ephesians 4 today

I love the letter to the Ephesians. Did you know that it probably wasn’t written exclusively to one local church? The oldest manuscripts leave out “in Ephesus.” It was most likely a circular letter, for the churches of the whole region.

Why does that matter? Ephesians is like a manifesto for a different kind of church: one built not on institution but on calling. Not on hierarchy but on real community.

Paul isn’t writing about a perfect local church that has everything under control. He is talking about the body of Christ: an organism that lives, grows, suffers, heals.

And every single person has a function in it. Every one.

“But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it.” (Ephesians 4:7 NIV)

Paul then lists five callings:

“So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers …” (Ephesians 4:11 NIV)

Not as positions. Not as titles.
As a gift. To the church. From Jesus himself.

Their job?
To equip. To release.
To build up the body.
Not themselves, not their organization.

“… to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.” (Ephesians 4:12-13 NIV)

Does that mean every church needs five job descriptions?
No. But a healthy church needs the power of these callings. Not necessarily on the leadership team, but tangible in its DNA.

Many of these callings don’t function well in the classic church system right now, because many Western church models today focus almost exclusively on pastors and teachers, and limit themselves in the process.

Where they are limited, depth is missing.
Or breadth.
Or direction.
Or comfort.
Or truth.

Paul himself was never a local pastor. But he planted churches, corrected them, encouraged them. Not as a system manager, but as a father in the faith.

Titus and Timothy, his coworkers, weren’t local pastors either. They were commissioned to bring order to churches, to heal structures, to strengthen calling. They served regionally, relationally, spiritually empowered.

Maybe someone in your region is working apostolically. Maybe someone lives as an evangelist. But maybe they are being squeezed into structures that paralyze them. What if these very people are the answer to Jesus’ prayer for his church? What if these are the gifts Jesus has given to your region?

If we build church only by function, I believe we miss the heart of Jesus. If we build church with him, we learn that he is the one who joins his body together and holds it together.

“From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.” (Ephesians 4:16 NIV)

Often I would have liked to leave. Away from church. Out of the tensions.

But I stayed. Not because everything was or is good, but because I know: Jesus has called me to follow him to wherever he wants to keep building right now.

I am not called to blow up the system. But I’m not called to submit to the system either.

I am called to be a bridge. Between Jesus and people.

What if you are called, but you don’t fit in the box?

You want to follow Jesus. You love the church.
But somehow … you don’t fit in?

You feel like a guest, not like part of the family.
You’re there, but not in. Does that sound familiar?

Maybe you’re not wrong. Maybe you are called differently.

And everyone carries a calling. Everyone.

Paul built the church without ever being a church leader.
He sent, encouraged, released, corrected, cheered on, rethought. From the outside. In relationship. With love for the whole body, as part of the body.

Maybe you’re like him: a bridge builder. A boundary crosser.
Not made for the center, but for the intersection.
A person who stands on the outside, because she builds bridges and her heart beats for people on the margins.

Maybe you can’t bear it on the inside because you are called to complement the inner life of the church, not to carry it. Not against the church. But for those who aren’t there yet. Because you are made for the outside and have to stand outside in order to lead others in.

What if your frustration doesn’t mean you’re wrong, but that something is missing?

I believe we wrestle too little with our own calling because it’s more comfortable to talk about others. About leadership. Structures. Boundaries. We feel tension, but instead of asking Jesus, we let off steam. But what if the tension we experience is an invitation?

A few things to think about

Sit down. Take a pen. Ask Jesus:

  • Why do I feel this tension?
  • What do you want to show me through it?
  • What are your plans for me?

Reflect for yourself:

  • What sets your heart in motion, out of joy or out of frustration?
  • Which topics keep drawing you in?
  • Where do you need healing so you don’t run, but stay and follow Jesus to where he has prepared something for you?

Next, stop nursing your frustration. It’s more comfortable to hold others responsible. That’s how it was for me. But frustration can be a pointer. What if Jesus has been calling you for a long time, and you just haven’t recognized it yet?

What if Jesus has been telling you all along:
“You’re not wrong, but you’re not in the right place.”
“I have more in mind for you, but somewhere else.”
“I want to send you, not hold you here.”
Not to get rid of you. But to build up his body with you as part of it.

Don’t fight against the body.
Don’t fight against structures.
Don’t fight against yourself.

“Fight the good fight of the faith.” (1 Timothy 6:12 NIV)

Find your place in the body.
Fight for the building up of the body.
Fight for what you were made for.

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:10 NIV)

And what if we start seeing church in a new way?

I believe Paul saw something much bigger than what we often call “church” today.

He didn’t see an isolated island with fixed programs, but a mobile, connected body traveling together through a region.

He didn’t write Ephesians to a single local church, but to all the believers of the region: probably dozens of house churches, loosely connected but inwardly one.

He speaks of one body, one faith, one Lord. There aren’t many bodies. There is only one body.

And he says: God made us so different so that we would build each other up.

What could that look like today?

What if we as Christians in a city or region started thinking again not in denominations or church networks, but in callings?

What if teachers complemented each other instead of comparing themselves?

What if evangelists had room again to reach people, and to build bridges into the community?

What if prophets didn’t disrupt but, as Paul writes, comforted, encouraged and built up (1 Corinthians 14:3)?

What if apostolically gifted people created space for new things, the way Paul did through his travels and church plants?

What if pastors didn’t have to care for everyone alone, but were part of a larger regional team?

What if not every church had to do everything itself, but every community contributed its part so that the whole body is healthy?

Not uniform. But diverse and united.

I believe that is the picture Paul had in mind.

And maybe for us it starts with no longer asking: Where do I fit in?

But starting to ask: Where can I be a bridge? Where can I serve? Whom can I complement?

English version: September 2026