Category: healing | Page 16 | Spiritual Abuse Blogs

Leaving An Unhealthy Church #13: A Warped View of God

I swear on my soul, that if these men are speaking for God, I would rather spend eternity in hell than serve him. How are you supposed to love the God they represent? Unconditional Love? yet contradicted… Grace? yet contradicted…

Because all of that junk had completely clouded my view of Jesus, and I didn’t even know who he was anymore. Was he the harsh judge that was just waiting for me to show I wasn’t “holy” enough so he could smite me? Was he the one that demanded absolute perfection? The one for whom nothing was ever enough?

These are the feelings of two people who left their separate churches. Some find it hard to break from the erroneous view of God that they encountered in an unhealthy church. This can be especially difficult for those raised in one. Every time they see someone from their former group write about the group’s beliefs or they read Bible passages that were distorted in their church, they wrestle with trying to break away from the harsh taskmaster they came to know. But this isn’t the same Jesus portrayed in the Bible, but rather a false view that arises from erroneous teachings and how these are taught and applied.

Erroneous teachings can indeed cloud your view of God. They can give one a very different and distorted view. The tragic aspect of this, and one I have seen all too often, are people who can see the error of at least some of the teachings and yet have not yet been able to break from this distorted view.

This is what happens in a performance based church and while things vary from one unhealthy church to another, the teachings lead to performance based religion. While many will not say, for instance, that following outward standards is a matter of salvation, they will believe one is lost or at the least backslid if they don’t adhere. Many will say ‘it is better to be safe than sorry.’ These actually make them matters of salvation, whether or not it is specifically stated as such.

This is an excerpt of an email I received from a visitor to the spiritualabuse.org website. They are from the United Pentecostal Church and wrote:

WE strive to live Christ. Do we error? YES! But we try. There are some Pastor’s who goes over board, but for the majority, it is just about trying to make heaven our home. Yes, some things seem extreme, but in comparison to eternity, it is the least we can do. Our dress and appearance is simple a safety protocol we take to assure our success in making heaven our home. I hope you give this some thought.

Take note of what was actually said. It’s about trying to make it to heaven. It’s about safety measures. It is not at all about trusting in the finished work at Calvary. I don’t know how many posts I’ve read through the years where someone has written something like, “I’d rather be safe than sorry” concerning a teaching. And remember hearing church testimonies that said something like, “Pray for me that I will make it in?” They have no lasting assurance of salvation. In their mind, though they probably do not recognize it, salvation is based upon their performance and not on the completed work of Jesus on the cross.

There is a vast difference in being obedient to God and in obeying rules so one will be saved. The latter removes us from living in God’s grace and places the emphasis on us and our actions in order to make us acceptable. The good news from Jesus is that He paid the FULL penalty for all of our sins. He took away our unrighteousness and clothed us in His righteousness. We either accept this by faith or we will somehow try to earn our salvation.

And that’s what the performance based teachings lead people to. Many start out OK, but as time goes on, that initial joy of coming to Christ is replaced by an undercurrent of fear and worry…. that we will mess up and be rejected…. that God is almost anxiously waiting for us to err so He can zap us into oblivion.

What a horrid, horrible and unfair characterization of a loving Savior!

Do you struggle in this area? You may realize that the standards teachings or some other teaching is not a matter of salvation and many are not even biblical. You may know that through the teachings you developed a warped view of God. You need not remain in the position where the warped view continues to taint your perception. Your former church is still having influence over you and you are believing lies that will hinder you in your relationship with God. May your mind be set free to see Him as He is.

You do not have to live with a warped view of God. A good place to go for help is in the Gospels. That’s where we have the most information about Jesus. Just read them to read and not to study. I strongly suggest you use a different Bible than the one you have used in your former church, as yours might be filled with notes from sermons. Using another version other than the one you used should be helpful as well.

Identity Theft

I got this cup for Christmas from my best friend. It says “Be You.” Only a very close friend could have known the impact of that phrase for me.

As I have written before, when one is raised in the cult environment, an identity is chosen for you and imposed upon you. You don’t get to choose to be an individual or to figure out for yourself what you like and dislike. You are told who you can be and what you must like and dislike.

A few years ago, I was involved in a teacher’s education program that included a class on child and adolescent development. We were required to write and illustrate a complicated paper on each developmental milestone, and how that related to our own upbringing and development at each stage of life. The illustrations had to be from either photos or copies of art or writings that we had saved from our childhood.

Of course, by this time I knew that I had been raised in a cult, so each stage was an interesting flashback for me, but nothing really stood out as horrific until I reached the adolescent stage. In adolescent development, ideally the adolescent is forming their own identity–they often play around with different thoughts, ideas, styles, and values while they are trying to figure out who they are and what they want out of life. By the end of adolescence, ideally, they will have figured this out and settled into a worldview and formed their identity.

When I got to the stage of adolescent identity formation, I hit a brick wall. It was a revelation to me that I had never matured in that area, because I was not allowed to formulate my identity at that stage in life. Everything about my identity was dictated to me. My parents told me that they had raised me to be a preacher’s wife. I was taught how to dress, what styles were appropriate, even how to style my hair, what to like and dislike, what music to listen to, and what books to read, as well as how to interpret what I read…among so many other dictated ideals.

As I begin to realize this, as an adult, I started questioning who I was and exploring what I would want. I found that I had long ago turned off that part of a person who asks questions about life and makes decisions. No wonder it was so hard for me to make choices! No wonder anxiety raged through me on a daily basis!

I started on a quest to begin figuring out what I like, what I believe, and what I want out of life. It has been an interesting journey so far. In my 40s I am finally “Finding myself,” and the journey has been so much fun! Although there has been some trial and error, it has not been as weird and chaotic as a teenager often finds it to be.

The times I struggle most with my new identity is when I am around my extended family members who are still in the cult. That is why my friend bought me this cup. It is a daily reminder to just be me. It is a constant encouragement to cut out the overthinking and to reduce the anxiety that comes with being raised to conform.

I have made it my motto for 2017 to just “be me.” My heart is full of hope that 2017 will bring much joy and freedom to myself as I continue to overcome anxiety and the past.

Holiday Celebration

As I have been working the last two weeks, I have run across different ideas from different churches that affect children who are my clients. These differences have to do with how holidays are celebrated. Needless to say, I have definitely had a few flashbacks to how holidays were celebrated when I was growing up in a United Pentecostal Church pastor’s home.

Christmas

While I have run across several different churches in my area that do not believe in celebrating Christmas at all, that was not the case while I was growing up. We celebrated the Christmas holiday as the birth of Christ, even though my father was aware that was not actually the birth of Christ. He did however preach against having a Christmas tree, because he taught that the history of the Christmas tree was rooted in paganism. I remember once when my ex-husband, who also was against Christmas trees, gave a very vivid explanation of how these pagans apparently burned their babies in worship to their gods and it somehow had something to do with the decorated tree.

I always found Christmas trees to be gorgeous. Of course, I love pretty things and I always have, so it wasn’t just Christmas trees but also jewelry and make up, fingernail polish and many other beautiful things from which I would learn to avert my eyes because they were “evil,” and could not be admired.

My mother, like me, always loved decorating and had a fancy for pretty things. She made wreaths and flower arrangements as well as garlands with which she decorated our home for Christmas. Our Christmas decorations usually included every element that one would find on a Christmas tree: greenery, lights, ornaments, and often words of scripture such as a Isaiah 9:10.

I loved Christmas and could not wait to help her decorate the whole house. She would usually give us a string of lights and some tinsel to put in our bedrooms once everything else was decorated. This is a tradition that I carry on with my sons to this day. Putting out the nativity was always a very special part of the decorations, because it was the “reason for the season.”

We never believed in Santa Claus, but neither was he made into an evil being. We grew up with adults joking about Santa, so we took it as a joke as well. There was often wrapping paper with Santa Claus on it and we would look at children getting their picture taken with Santa in the mall. I don’t remember ever even wanting to get my picture taken with Santa. My earliest recollection is remembering that I knew it was just some man dressed up in a suit, pretending.

Still, the magic of Christmas was part of my childhood. Not knowing what was in the presents, and the excitement of getting to open them on Christmas Eve after supper, are special childhood memories.

Some of my most embarrassing moments also had to do with Christmas. In a church where the pastor is lifted up to a position of respect just under that of God himself, Christmas was a time when the church people pooled their money together to honor my father as their pastor. I remember the embarrassment I felt in having to go to the front of the church and open presents with my family when none of the other kids had presents. I always felt very uncomfortable, because some of the presents weren’t anything that I would want, but even as a child I knew that these people meant well and I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. It was so hard to try to make sure that my face did not reveal any true feelings and to make sure that I spoke up loud enough for them to hear my thanks. I always did have the softest voice!

I remember when they started giving family gifts instead of individual gifts to unwrap. This was a lot more comfortable for me, but it also felt a bit odd. The family gift might be a new sofa, or one year it was two lazy boy recliners, covered in dollar bills. I remember wondering if my mother would not have preferred to go pick out her own sofa. Mostly I was just embarrassed to be singled out in this manner and didn’t feel comfortable with the way things played out. As an adult, looking back, I now wonder if the instinct of a child is not wiser than the adulation of the adults at that point.

Once I grew up and married a preacher in the same cult, Christmas became a bone of contention. He had been raised in a country that was predominately Catholic, as a missionary’s son. His parents were under the impression that Catholics worshiped the nativity figures and that they were not simply representations. As a result, he would not allow me to have a nativity scene as a decoration at Christmas time, no matter where we were living. To me it felt like taking Christ out of Christmas to eliminate this important reminder from my decorations.

In addition, I was not allowed to mix lights with greenery. I could have greenery and I could have lights, but not together. I could even have ornaments, but not in the greenery. The rules got so complicated that it ruined the joy of decorating for Christmas. My feelings about the holiday begin to be very mixed every year, and honestly I grew bitter at not being able to celebrate freely from the heart.

We were not allowed to use wrapping paper that had Santa on it, and he taught our children that Santa was evil. There were so many rules about every little thing in regards to Christmas, that the focus became more on the rules and less on celebrating the birth of Christ. I lost the joy of celebration. It became a very materialistic time as he worked hard to make sure we spent the exact same dollar amount on people with the same relationship status.

After we divorced, and once I left the cult environment, I was so excited to buy my first Christmas tree! The kids loved it, and we decorated it together while listening to Christmas carols. I bought the happiest Santa Claus paper I could find in which to wrap my presents, and since my littlest one was the only son who didn’t already know that Santa didn’t exist, he got to be the one to believe in Santa…briefly ( big brothers had to blab of course).

Approximately seven years later, this Christmas we had two Christmas trees! The house we are renting happens to have two living rooms, and we found a large Christmas tree on sale at a liquidation outlet. In the living room I had our beautiful big tree decorated all in blue and silver, and in the other living room, the smaller tree was decorated like the kids wanted it to be. It had Santa and penguins, reindeer and all sorts of other fun things on it. Our stockings were hung on the mantle, and we joked about Santa coming down the chimney to fill them. The nativity scene was on the mantle, along with Christmas cards from friends and family. The joy was back in Christmas! We celebrated freely any way we wished!

New Year’s Eve

When I was a kid, New Year’s was always a spiritual celebration. It usually included a “watch night service,” which meant that we had a very long service, lasting from about 7:30 on New Year’s Eve to at least midnight. It was a very serious service, and didn’t feel much like a celebration, at least not to a kid.

The service would start out pretty normal, but often the preaching would be very “convicting.” something to do with the rapture, or how time was running out if we wanted to be saved. Sometime before or after the preaching there would be a time of “soul-searching” to repent and get our hearts right so that we could take communion without “taking it unworthily.” Looking back, I’m not very sure exactly what curse would befall us if we weren’t right with God when we took the bread and grape juice, but whatever it was, it was a fearful moment.

I remember a couple of times when I had trouble squeezing out any tears, and I felt so guilty, because it seemed like it was almost expected that everybody would cry and weep and wail in order to get their hearts right.

Sometime, usually towards the end of the service, there would be a “foot washing service.” This would have been announced previously, along with the admonition that everybody should wash their feet before coming. The women and girls would be separated into one room, while the men and boys went into another room. The purpose of this ceremony was to humble ourselves before one another, like Jesus did when he washed his disciples feet. Since leaving the cult I have found it very odd to realize that most other churches have never even heard of such a ceremony.

The footwashing ceremony was kind of uncomfortable for me as well, because I’ve always had very large personal boundaries and I am not much of a touchy person. However, the worst moment was always when the lady who had ended up across from me got down to wash my feet.

First of all, for whatever reason, the ceremony usually involved a lot of weeping and crying and praying for one another while you slowly run your hands over this person’s feet top and bottom while the person’s feet are immersed in warm water. Then, you would take a towel that had just dried everybody else’s feet and you would dab this person’s feet, continuing to cry and pray for them. After that, you would give them the towel and put your own feet in the bucket of water, letting them repeat this ceremony to you.

The problem was that my feet are extremely ticklish. No matter how I would try to steel myself to be serious and weep and cry, the moment that person’s hand ran over the bottom of my foot, instinctive action would take place.

My feet would jerk and kick, surprising the foot washer, and causing everyone around to instantly chuckle. It was very embarrassing to be the person who made everybody lose their spiritual vibe and turn such a serious occasion into giggles. After that, it was always a little hard to weep and cry over my feet. I can’t say I miss that ceremony at all.

After leaving the cult, I’ve never quite know what to do with myself on New Year’s Eve. Those “watch night services” usually were the introduction to January’s church wide fasts. The entire month of January all of the congregants were encouraged to be involved in different types of fasting. Some of them would fast the entire month and have nothing but water, while others would do a “Daniel fast.” Still others would fast one day a week during the month. The purpose of this was to get everyone’s heart prepared for starting the year out with a “revival.”

For the last few years we haven’t really celebrated on New Year’s Eve at all. We will stay up late watching movies and reading books, and then go to bed once midnight has arrived. This year I wanted to figure out the joy of celebration for New Years as well. We shall see how that goes, as I really have no idea how to celebrate it. It’s a far cry to go from a sad, serious, and fear filled “watch night service” to a fun celebration. Only time will tell how we manage to put the past behind us and create new traditions that are fun and celebratory.

Leaving

A year ago yesterday I turned in my formal resignation to my former church. It’s been an interesting and wonderful year, full of growth, laughter, and a few tears, but well worth it.

I didn’t want to leave my former church. Although there were a lot of bad things that happened, there were also people who’d been kind to me and who I didn’t want to hurt… People who would be hurt by my leaving, no matter how the leaving was done. I was also scared. I believed that the basic doctrine taught was THE truth, but the situation at that church had become untenable. If I left, I would face the strong possibility that no other Oneness church would accept me, yet if I stayed, I knew that there was a strong possibility that I would be pressured to lie. The fallout from speaking the truth would be heavy, yet I had to speak. I’d been named in a lawsuit by a member who’d told me something entirely different than what he told in court.

Before the court case, I thought that I would simply, gracefully, disappear. I’d get a job and move, get married into another church, or simply move home to take care of my aging parents. Then I could go to a more liberal church and get away from what I considered the hurtful side of Pentecost–I thought that if I went to another church or into another part of the movement I’d be fine. I couldn’t grasp that problems might exist in other parts of Pentecost- I thought they were limited to my church. When the court papers were served, I knew I had to get out before responding to the papers. I kept some pending commitments, turned in my resignation, and promptly submitted my documentation to the court.

I wasn’t sure what would happen when the pastor got the resignation… as it turned out he never even acknowledged it, at least not to me. A few members continued to contact me for a few weeks. Finally, I told one that I’d resigned. They were shocked, hurt, and probably scared for themselves at that point. I explained that I’d deliberately refrained from telling them to ensure the pastor had received notice first, in order to protect them. Though I still wish I could have told a handful of people goodbye personally, that would have hurt them more. It surprised me and hurt me though, to realize that once they knew about my resignation, most never attempted to bring me back. It was as though either I or the church had suddenly disappeared from the city!

When I joined the support group board, I didn’t think I’d be leaving Pentecost forever. I assumed that I would leave for a short while, or leave the very strict group I was in, but I never thought I would leave completely. I was terrified of registering on the forum, but desperately needed some sort of interaction and a place to put my thoughts and work through everything that was happening.

Grace, faith, love… a different kind of prayer, faith filled and simple… the prayer drew me. Before leaving I’d talked to a chaplain about leaving. He was extremely kind. He listened rather than telling me what to do, and he listened completely and compassionately. I wasn’t used to that. After we visited, he asked if it would be alright to pray with me. The kind of prayer he prayed still brings tears to my eyes.

Still, it was only a few months later, after visiting another Oneness church a few times, that I knew I would probably never go back. The services seemed shallow and then I discovered there were connections between a member and members at my former church that would have led to more gossip. I was tired of the gossip and the struggle to prove myself. I’d also begun to realize that there were good churches outside the Oneness movement… and that I needed to learn some of the things they taught.

Once I realized and admitted to myself that I wouldn’t be going back to a Pentecostal church, I could move ahead. There were a lot of questions to answer, a lot of exploring to do. What did I believe? What didn’t I believe? What did I just do because I’d been told to, and what did I believe was actually in the Bible? What did the Bible teach about topics like grace that my former church had always avoided?

It’s been an interesting journey. It doesn’t seem like a year has gone by, yet if someone had asked me last December if I could have come to where I am today in such a short time, I would have been stunned.

I still struggle with some things. It’s hard to read my Bible (because of sermons I’m reminded of), but it’s becoming easier to pray. And not just to mumble a half thought prayer as I did in Pentecost or to push for a certain feeling or experience, but to truly talk to God about things, accepting that He’s there and He hears. I still respond strongly to some things, too. But I’m not afraid anymore. I don’t worry as much about what others think or what they might say. If something goes wrong, I don’t immediately think I must have sinned and God’s punishing me. And I don’t feel the pressure to pretend to be something I’m not, and never have been. It’s nice to be free to be real, to be myself. It’s nice to do things just for the enjoyment of doing them, without examining every minute to see if it could be judged wrong in some way.

Someone stopped me the other day and asked what was different about me. It isn’t the first time I’ve been asked. It’s not a change of dress or hairstyle. Apparently even to others I seem happier, more relaxed… something. And I am. Yesterday, I think the woman had decided I had a new guy in my life. No, I don’t. But I am finally really getting to know Him.

Merry Christmas, all.

Looking For A Church Part 3

Continued from Looking For A Church Part 2.

I’m staying in a place like this!

I joined the church I’ve been attending today. I’ve been considering it for awhile now, but haven’t really mentioned that here because I wasn’t sure what the reaction would be. I wanted this to be my decision, and don’t want to hurt, confuse, or upset anyone else through it.

Still… if you’re looking for a church, be encouraged.

I’ve always liked this church but there were a few points I thought we were in disagreement on that I hesitated about. And, I’d been going to churches and looking for what was wrong with them rather than what was right.

After asking a number of questions, observing people’s interactions with each other and others, taking lots of notes and praying about it, I’ve decided this is where I need to be. It seems to be an amazingly healthy church.

After my last questions, the pastor gave me a book that outlines their beliefs. Opening the book, I assumed I’d find a lot of scripture to back all kinds of opinions and interpretations of scripture. I braced myself for a long boring read. 🙂 And was amazed. There is time given to their understanding of God, baptism, communion and so forth, but there is equal time given to discussions of loving and respecting one another, of accepting each others’ differences even while each expressing their opinions when they feel led, of the worth and value of every individual on earth and so forth. Reading their “doctrinal” explanations, I found that they explained their views well, but often on non-essentials printed two or even three or more viewpoints, giving equal attention to the pros and cons of each view and restating acceptance of people no matter which view they held.

I’ve watched these people interact with each other, and know they live what they say they believe. I’ve been surprised as they accepted me even though they might well guess (or know) where I came from and what my beliefs might be. Never once in all my questions did the pastor disagree with me or argue for an opinion. He would state some different views and encourage me to read certain passages when asked, but for him that was the end of his part in it–it was my decision, my choice what to believe. He never went back and asked if I’d read anything or if I’d come to any decisions. The choice was mine. The respect that shows amazed me. I’ve watched them interact with each other too, concerned for each other, loving each other, focused on others rather than themselves (in a positive way). For instance last night they had a pool party. No one went off into little whispering groups. No one was excluded, no one was the center of attention. Everyone had someone. I didn’t see anyone off to the side, alone, and I didn’t see any groups off to the side talking. No one complained!

So after thinking about it and praying about it and studying everything out, I read or skimmed most of the book, and was surprised to find that I agreed with many things in the book, even things I thought I was alone in believing. I’ve known for a week or more that I’d be here for awhile. But though they would have accepted me whether I joined or not, I wanted to make a commitment and a public statement of that. This morning I did.

LOL and then I realized I hadn’t “prayed about it” in the Pentecostal sense. 😮 Mild panic set in for a minute… then I realized that I HAD prayed about it. For weeks (and months and years, less specifically). I’ve been praying that God would show me where to go and give me peace about it, showing me what choices to make. He did. My prayers the last few days haven’t been “God, show me.” No… rather, they’ve been “God, thank you!” Not thanks that I found a church to call home, but thanks that finally things like His grace and love started making more sense, and that I was seeing those in action through the people I was worshiping with. So I’d prayed and He’d already answered.

Yes, there’s more to the story, but yes, my mind, heart and conscience are all in agreement. And I’m happy.

Looking For A Church Part 1