Signs of Religious Abuse, Part 2

It seems that the list of signs of religious abuse build on each other to a degree, or at least they did for me. They did throughout my 19 years in Pentecost, but most could be seen to some degree in the first months I was there, beginning with the first visit. One of the first things I heard was how they had The Truth, how they had something that other churches didn’t have, and that I could have too. This appealed to my 18 year old self. I could be something special and could have something special, and if I would just pull away from my family and friends and focus on the church, they would see my light and my good witness by being separate from them and would start coming to church too. This, I was told, was being a good witness. In fact, it was isolationist.

Ensnarement
Instead of guiding their flock to Christian maturity, abusive leaders strengthen their grip on believers by promoting:
Self doubt
Guilt
Interior conflict
Identity confusion
Ambivalence

Leaders encourage followers to “earn” favor, but set the mark for achieving this so high and make it so ambiguous that it’s impossible to obtain.

Followers are confused by contradictions between conscience/reasoning and teachings.
Believers fear of condemnation, loss of direction, loss of fellowship.
It is difficult and painful for believers to leave abusive churches.

Authoritarianism
Leaders are convinced they exercise God’s authority.
They expect believers to obey them rather than God.
They expect others to support their intentions.
They discourage input and accountability.
They frequently repeat Heb 13:17, “Obey them that have the rule over you, and submit yourselves: for they watch for your souls, as they that must give account, that they may do it with joy and not with grief…”

Manipulation
Instead of interpreting the Bible with the Bible, according to long-held Christian beliefs, and in context, abusive leaders manipulate scriptures so that they appear to endorse the leaders’ personal opinions.

I think there’s another type of manipulation, too… that of manipulating people’s thoughts and conscience–for instance, if you say you’re concerned about something a leader does, the leader might question your love for God or point out that you are supposed to obey/submit to him, or say, “Do you think you’re smarter than me? Don’t you think I have the Holy Ghost? If you don’t like it here [AKA don’t agree with him on everything] you can leave right now!”

Irrationality
Interpretations of scripture may contradict other interpretations, reason, and/or reality.
Leaders (or others) may claim to receive messages from God about church or individual members.
There may be self-proclaimed “healing ministries.”
Members may be pressured into dramatic confessions of sin.
There may be exaggerated professions of deliverance.
There may be little lasting effect.
Members must suspend critical thinking.

During this time, just 2-4 months in, I began noticing more and more that there were all the members of the church and then there was the ‘inner circle,’ those closest to the pastor and pastor’s wife, who were most often called on and most ‘used’ in services — they were the ones who sang solos, led parts of the service, and were given as examples of how to live and praised during the preaching or in smaller group settings. My goal was to somehow join the ‘inner circle,’ to be one of the pastor’s favorites. I’m not sure who was coercing me at this point, the church or me. I craved praise and recognition and was hopeful that I could be deserving of it and would obtain it. I developed a long list of what I could and should do in order to do so. And yet I began having more and more fears that I couldn’t be ‘good enough,’ that I’d somehow miss an opportunity and never have that chance again. My pastor at that time taught (or at least I thought) that if we felt God wanted to do something through us and we resisted, God would withdraw that offer and we would never have that gift.

In all of this I was conforming to the group and developing a legalistic mindset. I didn’t see this as fear of being ostracized or shamed, but simply as a desperation to belong fully; yet the very fact that I knew I wouldn’t belong if I didn’t do certain things shows that the fear of ostracism was there. It was strongly linked to the elitism that was still being fed to me, so I saw it as a positive at the time. In fact, though, I was losing my own identity. I stopped swimming and biking. I changed my hair style and clothes dramatically. I became very self conscious about my body and became convinced that I was not (and should not be) physically attractive, and I started doubting the decisions that I’d spent 18 years wishing I could make (while I grew up). At the same time I began more and more to feel condemned for the strangest things — Was wearing yoga pants under my skirt so that I could bike modesty wrong? No one else was wearing their sleeves so short. Did the pastor just look at me oddly for wearing that barrette? What might I be missing? What should I be doing better?

I left my first church after seven years there. I had hoped to go to Bible College. The pastor had said no. I wanted to do more with missions and was finally given permission (yes, permission) to go on a missions trip. The church barely acknowledged I was going. I’d been pressured to testify how great the women’s retreat was or the youth conference, but suddenly I wasn’t asked to say a thing… instead I was actually asked to stop talking about it.  I’d wanted to go on a missions trip since I was 13 or 14 years old, and finally after more than ten years, my dream was coming true, but no one asked me about it and instead I was asked to stop ‘bragging’ about it, since no one else was going. Still, through all of that, I didn’t recognize that there might be anything wrong with The Church. I’d been groomed well. I thought there was something wrong with me. Still, I hoped by moving and going to a different church, with the pastor’s approval, of course, that things would get better. And so I moved and started this exact same story again in a more conservative group.

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What’s Love Got To Do With It?

I was married for 27 years and really thought I loved my husband and he loved me. We had been pastoring a small but growing United Pentecostal Church church for eight years and then the unthinkable happened. He left me for another woman while I was out of town helping our son get settled in college.

When I came home he was gone, he left me a letter telling me all about his girlfriend and etc. He also closed out our bank account and took $5,000 from the church account. I had $12 in my purse and a grieving church to deal with and it felt like my heart was breaking into a thousand pieces. I was also the section ladies leader and I had speaking obligations to attend to.

It was a lot to deal with but I put on my best facade and mustered through all the pain of obligations, board meetings, closing the books of the church and trying to stay afloat financially. I had 30 days to get my act together and move our mobile home and try to find a job. But I managed it. With a lot of help from my parents.

I filed for divorce about four weeks after he left me and I had secured a good job and was feeling more confident that I was going to be OK on my own. My life has never been the same.

I was free from somebody else’s control and could make my own decisions about everything. I felt free, very free. I had my own money and I was living life on my own for the first time ever.

Although there were times my heart hurt so bad that I was almost sick with grief and that’s when the phone calls started….first call came from a friend in Alabama and she knew a pastor who just lost his wife to cancer a few months ago and was looking for a new wife. She had told him about me and he thought we would be a perfect match. So she gave him my number….which aggravated me!

A few days later Mr. Widower Pastor called me and I was polite and kindly told him I was not interested in a relationship. He wouldn’t let it go telling me how big the church was and how nice his house had been decorated by his wife and that I could move right in.

I couldn’t believe my ears…I’ve never met this man before and here he was offering me marriage, another woman’s decorated home and being a pastor’s wife again. I asked him about love and commitment. He said that would come later. He wanted to fly me down there to check everything out and seal the deal.

I was shocked by the calculating coldness that a marriage proposal was being treated like a business contract. Needless to say I declined and he found someone else to “move right in.”

There were a few more calls but I turned them down I had no interest in marriage with a stranger but I now understand why some UPC marriages seem so fake…because they are. There is no love between pastor and wife so how much love could there be with the saints of the church?

What’s love got to do with it? Everything!

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From Faith to Fear

Remember how happy you were when you first started attending your unhealthy group? Were you afraid of hell, either before or after your conversion? I mean, not just because you were saved, but all surrounding that time, both before and after your conversion?

When I first attended a Pentecostal church, I was happy. I was happy that I’d found a place to belong, people to talk about God with, and a church to worship with. I was not for one second afraid of hell. It didn’t figure into my attending and it didn’t figure into my conversion at all. For months after joining I had no thought of going to hell. I didn’t start going to church to avoid hell, and I didn’t stay to keep from going there. Hell was actually pretty far off my radar when I started attending church. I went to get closer to God, not to avoid hell. And so I wasn’t afraid of hell at first. The fear crept in slowly.

For me, I think the fear may have started with end times discussions. “Be careful, or you’ll be left behind!” That and prayers for “lost loved ones.” Then some friends that had started going with me suddenly stopped going. I still wasn’t afraid they’d go to hell, but I was VERY concerned that I’d ‘lose out,’ that I’d ‘backslide‘ and stop attending church. I loved it so much, I was terrified of leaving. The thought of leaving made me very insecure. The church, I thought, was there to protect me, to help me, to lead me. And in my mind at that time, these things were good. I had a group of people I could identify and trust, whether I knew them specifically or not. They were Pentecostal. They had the Holy Ghost. So they were good. And I wanted that safety desperately as a young adult on her own for the first time. Still, at that moment, nine months after I’d started attending, I don’t remember being afraid I’d go to hell.

In time, I was exposed more and more to teachings on hell, and my fear of hell grew as I heard those. I moved to a different church when I was in my late 20s. The church I started attending was a very different kind of church than what I’d been in for the first seven years. In the new church, there were not only sermons about hell, but people seemed to enjoy giving graphic descriptions of what hell might be like (and the rapture, and leaving, and many, many other things). The sermons there left me with less and less hope. They sapped my joy. And while I thought at the time that I was getting closer to God by being driven to stay through fear, I had never been in danger of leaving even without the fear. And so the fear sapped my joy and my faith. Over time of hearing these things repeatedly, I began to see God as judge rather than Father. I no longer wanted to pray or study. I felt I had to, but I didn’t want to. Fear ended up pushing me away from God, even though I trusted the pastor who told me it would drive me closer to him.

I don’t believe teachings on hell are used very well in Pentecost. After all, as we grow in God, should we have more and more faith, peace, love and joy… or more fear? I ended up with more fear. How about you?

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Oh How He Loves You and Me

Oh, how He loves you and me, Oh how He loves you and me. He gave his life, what more could he give?
Oh, how He loves you; Oh, how he loves me; Oh, how he loves you and me.

We sang this song often in the church my ex husband pastored but no matter how much we sung it I never could quite believe that Almighty God could love someone like me.

I was the kid from the home with the divorced mother and all the different stepfathers. Of which none loved me nor I loved them. My natural father said he loved me but I only saw him one weekend a month because of his fireman’s schedule. So not much time to study a father’s love.

My mother said she loved me but she worked a lot to support us and she was always trying to find a husband. I also felt that her love was conditional. I know she didn’t mean it that way but that is how it came across. When I made honor roll she was very proud and told everyone how smart I was. When I made the gymnastic team, proud mother, but when I fell off the balance beam, disappointed Mom.

Then there was the church we attended with my grandmother….a small United Pentecostal Church, if there was any love there for me it only came from one sweet family who had 7 children of their own but had lots of love to go around. I loved staying at their house and feeling the warmth of that love. My mother didn’t attend the church so no tithes from me so I was basically ignored by the pastor.

The feeling of failures followed me into adulthood and into my marriage. It felt like nothing I did was ever good enough and I just never measured up to everybody’s expectations. During this time my husband pastored a church and I just wasn’t what he wanted as a helpmate and a total disappointment to him as a pastor’s wife (I couldn’t play the piano or sing very good). So he soon jumped ship with another woman and moved away. Again love was conditional upon my performance.

It seemed I excelled at three things, being a mother and grandmother and being an an excellent employee and as it turned out I was very smart and a quick study. I managed to go back to college and to everyone’s amazement I graduated with a 3.95 GPA in accounting and I worked as a tax accountant for the next 15 years. It was a good place to work and it was someplace I felt where I belonged.

All of us have the need to belong and we long to be loved. Our Heavenly Father wants us to know we are loved.

“Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God! Therefore the world does not know us, because it did not know Him.” I John‬ ‭3:1‬ ‭

God loves us! God the father is a thousand times better than any earthly father. We are valuable because God loves us. We know our status and we are valuable because God loves us.

“Beloved, now we are children of God; and it has not yet been revealed what we shall be, but we know that when He is revealed, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. I John‬ ‭3:2‬

God’s love is changing us gradually to be more like him.

“Whoever has been born of God does not sin, for His seed remains in him; and he cannot sin, because he has been born of God. In this the children of God and the children of the devil are manifest: Whoever does not practice righteousness is not of God, nor is he who does not love his brother.”

God’s outworking love doing a work in me by bringing me to a good and healthy church where love abounds! I’ve never experienced this type of love in a church before but I do now! I work in ministry on many projects for the church and I truly believe when told I’m loved that it is the truth. Because I can feel it and see it and there are no conditions. They don’t care that I have Parkinson’s disease and work slower, or that I’m a bit overweight, I haven’t been given one diet to try like I was before. I am loved…”By this we know love, because He laid down His life for us. And we also ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. But whoever has this world’s goods, and sees his brother in need, and shuts up his heart from him, how does the love of God abide in him?” I John‬ ‭3:9-10, 16-17‬

Our Heavenly Father wants us to KNOW that he loves us and we are his children. He gives us a family, a purpose and a hope for a future.

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When churches silence, part 2

I sat in the counselor’s office physically shaking. I’d left the church eight years before, but remembering it… I still physically shook as I described what had happened. And I barely mentioned most of it. I’d been stalked in the church. I didn’t mention that the stalking had been accepted, even laughed about. Or that no, it actually wasn’t the first time I’d been stalked in church… it was just the first time that I was concerned for my physical safety.

I’m beginning to realize that the church is still silencing me.

“Don’t talk bad about the man of God.”
“You wouldn’t want to be a bad witness.”
“We have to protect the truth.”
“I wouldn’t want to hurt them.”

It’s difficult to shake those thoughts even after leaving, and I still think about them even while knowing that I must speak out, in private or in public. I’m still careful. I don’t want to shake anyone’s faith. I don’t want people comparing our stories and thinking theirs wasn’t ‘bad enough.’ Every story is valid, and every story should be heard.

Silence doesn’t stop molestation, stalking, backbiting and gossip, authoritarianism, or narcissism. It doesn’t stop favoritism, judgmentalism, threats, blackmail, negative peer pressure, or manipulation. It doesn’t help people who are hurting, who think they are alone – the only ones, surely, who’ve been hurt by an entity acting in the name of God. And it doesn’t prevent more people from facing similar situations… again, and again, and again.

How many people have been affected by spiritual abuse? We can’t know for sure. The church is silent.

When churches silence, part 1
When churches silence, part 2
When churches silence, part 3
When churches silence, part 4

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