It’s a funny cultural moment for people who call themselves pastors, or ministers, or church leaders. Because while it is, on one hand, a sacred calling, a fulfillment of often decades of work and commitment and deeply held conviction, it’s also a bit… out of vogue. Particularly if you are a church leader who works in a primarily post-modern/post-church community (which is most communities). We are in a cultural moment where there has been a deep reckoning with the harm caused by institutional church, both systemically and in individual lives. Searches for the terms “church hurt” and “religious trauma” have spiked in the past few years, and reckonings around purity culture, #ChurchToo, and seemingly relentless news stories about celebrity pastors falling from grace have left some of us in church leadership (including me) occasionally a little sheepish about our work when we’re in new company.¹ 

When I was in my twenties, and would tell twenty-somethings that I met that I was a youth pastor, they very frequently responded with a story about how the church hurt them, disappointed them, betrayed them. I understand that, I really do, the church has disappointed me, too. I held space for all of that, as I am sure all of you do as well. But there was always a part of me, somewhere on the inside, that said, “But it is real, though.”

Their pain, their suffering, the brokenness they experienced, all of that matters and I take all of that seriously. But it doesn’t mean the project of church itself isn’t worth pursuing, isn’t holy, isn’t real. 

It isn’t all snake oil.

Or more accurately, it is. In the mid-nineteenth century, a massive labor force from China was brought to the United States to help complete the transcontinental railroad. This work was hard, with long, physically exhausting days in brutal conditions. At some point, non-Chinese railroad workers started noticing that their Chinese co-laborers seemed to be in less pain that they were, and stay more mobile longer. They watched as, at the end of a long day, their Chinese counterparts pulled out a glass bottle filled with oil and doused a little on their joints, and rubbed it in, and eventually they asked, what was that stuff, and why were they using it?

They learned that it was medicine they brought from back home, that it helped with joint and muscle pain, and the Chinese railway workers eventually shared and sold some of the oil with the non-Chinese ones. They were amazed – it worked! There became a market for the oil among the railway workers for this imported medicine, so, as happens any time there’s something people want that is hard to get, people started faking it. 

All over the patent medicine scene, filled with hucksters, opportunists and quacks of all varieties, little glass bottles were sold, bearing the name of the traditional Chinese medicine: Snake Oil.² 

The snake oil the Chinese railway workers were using was made from boiling down Chinese Water Snakes and skimming the fat, or oil, floating on the top. Chinese Water Snakes are extremely high in omega 3s, which, when rubbed on the skin, can help reduce inflammation, and alleviate symptoms of conditions like arthritis. 

In short: snake oil is real, and it works. 

The problem is that Chinese water snakes don’t live in the United States, so the people making “snake oil” in the United States were just using whatever snakes could they could catch (mostly rattlesnakes), or even more disingenuous, just taking whatever oil they had around and re-branding it as snake oil. These snake oils didn’t work of course, because they weren’t made of the same kind of snake (if they were made of snakes at all). ³

So when I say what we offer as Christian leaders is snake oil, I really mean it. I mean what we offer is a balm, an anointing, a relief that truly is good news, that works, that is real, that is worth sharing with the world. And just like then, there are now around us plenty of people who say to offer that say balm but are either are unknowingly offering a poor substitute, or intentionally offering nothing at all. 

I wont pretend like I have some exclusive understanding of what is right practice and correct belief, but I do believe that a faith that leave people googling “religious trauma” at this high of rates is probably worth further investigation. 

So what do we do? How do we faithfully share a balm for the soil, an anointing oil for all that ails us without stepping into the din of patent medicine salesmen? The model of evangelism is offered for us, in the Chinese railroad workers that our country went on to cruelly mistreat and despise, even as their work connected our world. 

They used the snake oil themselves, and their co-laborers saw what it did for them. When their co-laborers asked how they could move without pain, what gave them so much relief, they shared what they had. The non-Chinese workers adopted the snake oil not because it was sold to them, but because it worked and it was real. 

What we have is real. What we have in authentic faith, committed community, deep conviction, is real. And it works. It makes a difference in people’s lives. It shapes communities. It calls people to work that cares for the marginalized, builds bridges, forgives, loves, and creates peace. It has changed each and every one of us.

It heals us. And thankfully, unlike Chinese water snakes, once we start sharing, there’s more than enough to go around. 

1. Google trends report for Religious Trauma. I offer no commentary on the state where its Googled the most, but I’ll let you postulate. There are too many examples of fallen celebrity church leaders to count, but here are a few recent ones ↩︎
2. You can read more of the story (and see pictures!) here. ↩︎
3. You can also listen to fascinating audio version of the story (and its connection to larger wellness trends) here. ↩︎