[This post contains some spoilers for the 2021 Disney film Encanto.]

The Encanto soundtrack is a permanent feature of my brain now. Over the past few months I’ve journeyed through the Mother’s 5 Stages of Encanto: watched the movie once with my kids, heard the soundtrack 87,000 times, marveled at the genius of Lin-Manuel Miranda while simultaneously cursing his existence, over-identified with Surface Pressure, and finally accepted I will recall these lyrics long after dementia has stolen all memories of my own children.

I realize not everyone has seen Encanto. But even if you haven’t, you’ve probably picked up from headlines, social media, and/or the general zeitgeist that the film beautifully and compassionately addresses issues of inter-generational familial trauma. The film speaks to so many people because on some level, whether glaring or imperceptible, each of us bear our own familial wounds. Despite that, my own strongest connections with Encanto don’t come from wounding or traumatic events in my family of origin. (I’m very fortunate in that regard!) Rather, as Encanto songs played nonstop across my thoughts these past couple months, I began connecting the family trauma of the Madrigal family with the trauma of the Church family, recognizing wounds inflicted by the “family of God” instead of biological family.

The Church family may not be blood related, but it is an inter-generational group of people, many of whom we didn’t specifically choose, who have a lot of influence on our lives – for many of us, beginning in the formative years. For me (and for the purposes of this post), the Church family encompasses all the Christian environments I’ve spent time in – plenty of white evangelical churches, Christian schools and colleges, etc. – and also what I’ve learned about the American evangelical Church on a larger scale from reading and hearing others’ experiences. When I speak of the Church family, I’m rarely referencing one particular of these environments, rather the explicit or implicit messaging received from the conglomeration of Christian environments we experience.

I will admit that it’s difficult to parse all the Church wounds we bear because they were often inflicted unknowingly, or perhaps unthinkingly, by various “families of God.” Much like Abuela in Encanto, who swears to always help those around us, the Church family often has a worthy cause they’re working toward. But also like Abuela, they can leave too many broken and hurting individuals in the wake of their good intentions. So while Church wounds are nuanced and emotional, I do think they’re worth talking about. And much like the songs from Encanto, these thoughts have been floating through my brain for months, so it’s time to get them out. 

But what’s YOUR gift?!

One of the most direct correlations between the Madrigal family and the Church family is the obsession with individuals’ gifts. As the movie begins, we’re introduced to each character by what magical ability they bring to the table. It doesn’t take long to discover that Mirabel’s lack of a gift will be the emotional trigger for the story.

I won’t lie; I identify with Mirabel Madrigal in many ways. The unspoken, invisible pain of believing you are the only ungifted individual in a group where gifts are implicitly and/or explicitly lauded as the ideal, is a wound I’ve struggled with for much of my life.

1 Corinthians 12 compares the Church family to a body and discusses gifts different ‘parts’ of the body might have to serve the whole. I want to believe that Paul wrote this portion of his letter as an encouragement – a way to praise the diversity of people in the Church family and the myriad abilities that all these different people bring to the table. But! This chapter of the Bible isn’t usually taught as a diversity pep rally. Instead it’s often used as a prescription: here is a Comprehensive List of Codified and Approved Spiritual Gifts one might have as a Christian. Don’t see a gift here that applies to you? Well too bad, so sad, guess you don’t have a spiritual gift. (And if you don’t have a spiritual gift, can you even be sure you have the Holy Spirit? You should probably subliminally doubt that for a couple decades of your life.) Since the Approved Spiritual Gifts list is only about a dozen or so traits long, and sadly lacking in “making really good cookies” or “reading an entire novel in a day,” I always had a very hard time pinpointing a gift for myself. 

But every part of the body of Christ is supposed to have an important and gifted purpose! At least that’s the message I internalized. So if you can’t point to what part you are in the body, what gift you bring to the family, where does that leave you? I used to “joke” that I was an internal organ in the body of Christ because I couldn’t make myself fit into the cool, gifted roles that went along with the mouth, the feet, the hands – the “presentable” parts that were always held up as the ideal. If it turns out you’re the lymph node in the left armpit of the body of Christ, then yeah sure, you’re still technically part of the family Madrigal, but you’re never gonna be on the brochure. You won’t be asked to teach the class or pray before the event, won’t be given whatever award the church/Christian school/nonprofit organization gives out with a holy-sounding name but everyone knows actually means the “good Christian” award. No one will notice when you aren’t in the family picture. 

It’s taken decades for me to slowly realize I’m not fine with the pressure to fit into the Approved Spiritual Gifts list, to try to act like a hand when I’m far likelier whatever part of the brain triggers the urge to nap. I used to spend sermons/lessons/conferences silently thinking, I’ve been patient and steadfast and steady! Bless me now as you blessed us all those years ago! But now, I see me; all of me. And I can often believe that I’m just who God created me to be, gifted or not.

Give it to your sister

Recognizing and healing from old Church wounds has been an ultimately joyful part of the last decade of my life, though the process isn’t often easy. One source of trauma I’ve come to believe we all bear severe and long-lasting wounds from is patriarchy and purity culture. It’s been a blessed relief to see others from the evangelical church start to unravel the ways purity culture has fucked us all up so badly, and honestly, there are dozens of blogs’ and books’ worth of discussions to be had about it. In my recent thought process of non-stop Encanto lyrics, purity culture is the pressure like a drip drip drip that will never stop in my lived experience as a Christian young woman. That pressure was partly explicitly piled on and partly implied from the Church family, but it was ever present. It wasn’t until my mid-to-late 20’s that I began to awaken to how heavy the burden on me and my sisters-in-Christ really was. 

If you weren’t raised with it, or still don’t recognize its wounds, here’s a small taste of the purity culture drip drip drip: Your body is inherently bad. Your body is a problem for every single boy you encounter, and that’s your problem to solve. Because of your body, a boy could end up in hell. So make sure your clothes aren’t too tight or low-cut or short! But they can’t be unflattering either, because then no boy will want you, and you’ll end up unmarried and alone and therefore of zero worth. Sex isn’t about you. So you should show absolutely no interest in sex… until you’re married and then you must have sex all the time (even though you probably still won’t want to most of the time, because having an active sex drive is weird and unfeminine and what is wrong with you?). But you have to do it! Because if the partner with the penis is unhappy, then your marriage is doomed. You have to keep your husband interested at all costs. So definitely never let your body change, not even after you carry and give birth to all the children your husband wants. If your husband loses interest in you sexually, he could stray and end up in hell, and that would be 100% your fault. Do you want to be responsible for all these men’s carnal sins?? Do you?!!

No wonder so many of us feel like we’re dying under the surface. Somewhere along the way, the Church family hoisted the burden of lust, modesty, sexual brokenness, unattainable purity, etc. and piled it all on the sisters. Never mind how these girls, young ladies, and grown women buckle and bend under the unbearable pressure, because as long as they never break, this patriarchal bullshit can cycle through the generations! Why should men learn to be responsible for their own thoughts and feelings when they can give it to your sister and never wonder if the same pressure would’ve pulled you under?

As I mentioned, there’s plenty to say about the wounds of purity culture, and if this resonates with you, I hope you find other (smarter and better written) resources to help you shake the crushing weight of patriarchy and purity culture, to find the freedom and joy I’ve started to experience on the other side.

We don’t talk about…

Church wounds aren’t limited to the ones I carry. In fact, I have been guilty of inflicting the wounds; or at least meekly standing by as others are wounded. While I didn’t fit in perfectly without an identifiable spiritual gift and was demeaned by a patriarchal purity culture, at least I wasn’t… Bruno.

In the Madrigal family, Bruno is a misunderstood, estranged uncle whom everyone pretends not to think or talk about in order to keep the family looking shiny and harmonious. So who is Bruno in the Church family? 

Sadly the Church has no shortage of people groups and/or subject matter that can stand in the metaphor of Bruno. Over the years, in the Church family we don’t talk about: Queer folk. Racism. Sexual abuse. Mental health. Colonization. Poverty. Single people. Divorced people. Addiction. The patriarchy. White savior syndrome in missions. Abuse of power in church dynamics.

… and the list could go on. People in these groups, or those affected by these taboo subjects, too often live in fear, always stuttering and stumbling within the Church family. Though the family may not notice, these Brunos are present in our gatherings, listening to the people who should love them most badmouth and fear them. It doesn’t take long for Brunos to understand their different perspectives, their otherness, are not welcome in the family. 

The white evangelical Church really doesn’t like to be left fumbling, grappling with things they don’t understand. And honestly, I think the heads of the Church believe the family’s power will take a hit if they don’t keep Bruno shut up. So the Church family refers to these Brunos like shady seven foot tall, rat-infested monsters who feast on your screams. ‘Watch out, Bruno’s coming for you!’ the Church warns, while in reality Bruno hides in the shadows, wishing for a seat at the family table. 

Like Mirabel, I used to unquestioningly believe (and repeat) the family line that Bruno doesn’t belong, that we don’t even need to discuss it. But as my own wounds sent me looking for answers, I encountered real Brunos, whose stories I could no longer dismiss. And now I have become less and less interested in fitting into a family where Bruno is not welcome.

The miracle is not some magic that you’ve got; the miracle is you. Not some gift, just you!

The good news is, the family doesn’t have to crack apart. We just need a new foundation. But the new foundation doesn’t come until we talk about Bruno. All those people the Church family has been sweeping aside, we have to bring them out of the dark and back into the family. The wounds inflicted by expectations of perfection or burnout from overusing gifts need to be acknowledged and healed. The new foundation won’t come easy, but it’s the only way the family won’t break apart. 

For now, to all the Mirabels who’ve stood on the sidelines of the Church family, watching others shine and never knowing where or how you fit into the family… To all the Luisas and Isabelas, pretending everything is great and burning yourselves out to meet unrealistic expectations and keep everything how it’s always been… To all the Brunos who were banished or ignored, instead of the Church family trying to understand or celebrate you… Please hear this: I see how bright you burn. I see how brave you’ve been. I hope you see yourself in turn. You’re the real gift, kid. The miracle is you; all of you. 

Benediction:

May you shake the crushing weight of expectations and free some room up for joy and relaxation and simple pleasure. 

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” – Jesus (Matthew 11:28-30)