Category: recovery | Page 20 | Spiritual Abuse Blogs

Exclusivity or Inclusion?

Seven years ago, I left a spiritually abusive “church.” By the time I left, the group had undermined my self-confidence and my desire for a close relationship with Jesus. I saw God as angry, punishing, and legalistic. In order to survive, there were things I radically changed my views on that others consider orthodox… and began experiencing a whole new side of exclusivity and elitism forged under the banner of Christianity. They weren’t Christian, but it was hard not to begin thinking of church in terms of those things, since they seemed reflected in the eyes of so many who called themselves by that term and who attended and even led those gatherings.

When I moved the first time, I hoped to find a church. Instead I found coworkers who told me that because I didn’t share their (locally predominant) views of Christianity, I wouldn’t be able to do my job well enough and excluded me from conversations, then came back later to explain what they disliked about others in their larger group. Local church members seemed unwelcoming and unfriendly, leaving me feeling excluded and unworthy. And then I moved again.

I thought that in moving back to the area I was raised in, I would find a good church. That didn’t happen. One Sunday School class drastically decreased in size after I asked a question regarding a member’s repeated condemning statements about their child. Several were ‘fluffy’–there was very little discussion about the Bible or God, and a whole lot of talk about pop culture or politics or how bad the world was getting.

Some organized mainly to fulfill outreach programs (while failing to reach out to each other), and others were simply social clubs. Another preached several sermons on Katelyn Jenner and began inserting media clips of his favorite shows and commercials into sermons rather than Bible, leaving me completely lost –I am virtually clueless about pop culture and didn’t go to discuss any current high profile figure’s statements, operations, or daily lifestyles. I went to discuss and share Jesus, but those conversations were missing.

And then came the elections. By the time a pastor’s wife friend of mine posted to Facebook “I don’t even know how someone can call themselves a Christian and vote for someone who [supports certain political stances]” and Christianity began being used (again) as a political platform–“vote for me! God bless America!” (which translates “See, I’m a Christian! I used the word God in a sentence, so I should get your vote!”) I’d had it. How can I call myself a Christian and take a different political or social stance? Perhaps because I hold a different perspective on what holding that stance actually means. But my gut reaction was “Then don’t. Don’t call me a Christian. I don’t want any part of this.”

I’ve spent several years now feeling like a religious outcast, perhaps a leper. “Unclean! Unclean! I voted this way!” “Unclean! Unclean!!! I don’t think people are condemned to hell if they drink a glass of wine or live in a monogamous relationship without a marriage license or don’t make it to church every Sunday or don’t give 10% of their gross income to the church… hey, I don’t necessarily even believe in your version of hell to begin with! Unclean!”

Being outcast by the group that is supposed to be known for and represent love takes it’s toll, perhaps especially when you have done everything that should make you part of the group… except to remain silent and refuse to talk about things that matter or to consider other viewpoints to the issues being discussed.

I’m tired of religion. American churchianity has exhausted me and left me with less understanding of God than I started with. And I was done with it. Until… until I visited one last church last weekend. And met a group of people who agree to disagree, who don’t say only one mode of baptism is right and don’t fight over grape juice or wine. They compromise nicely, it seems so far, on many points that people may view differently, even when using the same scriptures. And though compromise is a bad word in many religious circles, they explain it and view it as loving. It isn’t that they don’t have opinions on some of these issues. They do. But instead of force-feeding those opinions to others and then making a list of everyone who disagrees and shoving them into their personal version of hell, they offer open discussion and acceptance.

There is immense healing in that -the kind of healing that borders on miraculous.

Church Hunting

I left my former unhealthy church seven years ago. Since then I’ve been a part of several churches, but in the last four years none ever really felt completely like home. Close, but not quite. Three moves, two more than 100 miles, hasn’t helped.

There is no reason why a person needs to go to church, but for me, it would be good to connect and learn with other believers in a face to face environment, and traditionally that means church. I’ve been to many in my current area, but none was a good fit. On Sunday I hit an all time low–I didn’t go to one I’d planned to because it seemed to be some spin off of shepherding, missed another, went by two others and inquired about classes only to be pushed toward service, questioned about my walk with God, and told it was dangerous to look things up that were being preached about. Hmmm.

And I’m scared. I’m scared that I’m too excited, too happy. That something will be wrong, and that by being happy and excited I’ll miss it, because once many years ago I was happy and excited about finding a church, missed something, and ended up in a United Pentecostal Church for 19 years, committed to something but not to the right thing.

It’s a weird place to be, scared and excited and happy and not feeling that any of those is right, knowing that I should be free to feel happy without being scared, angry that it’s because of my past church experiences that I am so hesitant to be happy without being concerned today.

The difference this time is that I’m going into things, even if I’m happy and excited, with both eyes open. I’m checking things out, looking into what they teach, and identifying concerns. I’m not, as in the past, trying to prove to myself that they’re right, or looking for anything that shows what they teach, but am making a strong attempt to see them for what they are and understand their beliefs and perspectives while maintaining my own.

Whether I will join or not, I don’t know. I doubt it. I’m not looking for something to join at this point. Instead I’m looking for people to connect with, and that’s a very different thing. And it’s possible, just possible, that I’ve found that much.

I can be happy about that.

Churchianity

As some of you know, I moved a year ago and again this year. Last time I never did really find a church, and this time I haven’t found anything yet either. After yet another really irritating situation (actually two) on Sunday, I’ve been thinking….

I’m bored with denominational churches. Not because there’s a lack of “anointing,” not because I miss the outward worship… truth be told, I was bored in FT, too -although whether or not there was much anointing in that is debatable -and even at conferences and camps (think day services, I’m not the only one who didn’t go because something else was more interesting, I think). The difference between FT and denominational churches, then, wasn’t anointing or outward worship or truth. What was the difference? Part of it was the fear of admitting that those supposedly “awesome,” “Holy Ghost filled” services were boring, and the lack of honesty or words to know they were boring… and the larger part may have been that I had the ability there to do something else if things got boring. So a Pentecostal service got boring? Try to figure out who the preacher is talking about. Get up and run the aisles, say amen, clap, dance, whatever. Think about what everyone will do after church. See what people are wearing. Watch the visitors. Start praying and moaning. Work yourself up.

It doesn’t work as well visiting denominational churches. And so I have time to think about how boring they are. Especially if they don’t have WiFi. (In WiFi churches I jump online and tune out for awhile.)

Christianity isn’t a compartmentalized institution. Following Jesus isn’t nice and neat and tidy. It’s actually a bit chaotic and a lot messy at times from our perspectives. There aren’t easy answers for everything. Some things don’t even have hard answers. But ‘churchianity’ doesn’t seem very willing to acknowledge that.

Does that mean we should give up on church? No, maybe not. But I do think it’s the reason church is frustrating to me.

I picked up a book last night that was in my ‘to read’ pile. I couldn’t put it down. The book described me, describes most of us. We’ve asked some hard questions and realized that what we’ve been told about the Bible and God doesn’t answer the questions and doesn’t even fit what we’ve seen in the Bible, and that church isn’t what we were told or expected.

So if you’re looking for a church and finding it frustrating to find one, please realize you’ve been through and done something most people in ‘churchianity’ have never dreamed of -you asked the questions, faced a decision on whether or not you would believe and what you would believe, sorted through a lot of bad teaching, and come out on the other side. And as a result, at least for me, I can’t just “do church” or “have church” anymore. Not without a few yawns and a little time on the internet, at least.

What really made me realize how bored I was:
Recently the church I went to had a nice, tidy three point sermon. I can’t remember what all the points were. The message was taken from James 2, but it only covered a couple verses and was very fluffy. Do this, do that, love Jesus, the end. *Yawn* I went from that to looking for a Sunday School class. I went to the first and asked what they were studying. The man I asked looked at me and said, “We’re all older here.” I went next door to the next class (both were for “mixed adults”) and asked the same thing. Two women told me they were all –I stopped them and said I didn’t ask WHO they were, but WHAT they were studying. They responded that they were all married. Huh???

So I did finally attend a class, though. And in that class, there was a lengthy discussion on whether we should give money to bums. I tuned out. I’ve had that discussion several times. I’ve looked into it myself, considered several perspectives, and arrived at conclusions. The discussion later turned toward whether God was biased for choosing Israel as His people. It wasn’t a “Let’s open the Bible and look into that” sort of thing. It was more of a “was not-was too!” type thing. Again, I tuned out. For awhile. Until they really started getting on my nerves and I looked up from the internet long enough to interject that we should keep in mind that the Bible was written by, for and about Israelites, but that didn’t mean that God didn’t have others serving him as well. Followed by deathly silence. I went back to the internet and they changed the subject.

So… I’m bored because I go sit inside a box with people who think inside even smaller boxes, but I’m still thinking outside the box, and even wondering why we’ve made the boxes at all.

Drowning

I’ve been drowning on the inside.
Now I’m coming up for air,
grasping at whatever is near
to keep
from going
under
again.

For four years, I’ve felt more and more rejected by those who are supposed to be most loving and accepting, and that feeling of rejection has slipped into other parts of my life. Did God reject me? Am I wrong to ask questions? Why do I have questions? Can I believe and still have the questions I have?

Don’t call me a Christian. It’s not that I don’t believe… sort of. But I’m having trouble with belief, with faith, in a world that is so black and white. But isn’t Christianity about black and white, good and evil, easily distinguishable from each other and with a clear good and bad? Maybe for some, but not for me. Not for someone who sees in grays. The absolutes? God is good. God is love. Jesus is my savior. Beyond that… a sea of grays, difficult to navigate in a polarized society, in a black and white church.

Ah, to fellowship. To be able to talk to others, to ask questions, to discuss the Bible at length without being expected to come to any conclusion, but simply enjoying the many aspects of a multi-faceted, infinite Creator God, challenging, tasting, accepting, being accepted.

And I am drowning. Lost in a sea of questions, and pulling anyone who comes close under with me in my panic for a breath of air. Hungry for understanding, confused by the polarities, and frustrated by so many who see mono-chromatically, one dimensionally a world and a God full of infinite possibilities.

Have You Spoken Out About Spiritual Abuse?

I have had people share with me over the years that at first they didn’t realize that they had experienced what has been termed as spiritual abuse. It wasn’t until they came across a site such as spiritualabuse.org that they started to see parts of their experience as actual abuse.

Others are very reluctant to state they had been abused in this manner because of being perceived as a ‘victim’ and they don’t want to be portrayed or seen as a victim.

Call it what you want, the wrong does happen and affects many, many people worldwide. How deeply it affects someone varies from person to person and experience to experience.

Some who have experienced spiritual abuse have spoken out about it in various ways. Some, such as myself, started web sites. Some blog about it. Some have written a thesis paper on it. Some have online or in person support groups. Some make themselves available for people locally. Others have gone to college to become counselors/therapists.

If you would like to write about your experience or any aspect of spiritual abuse, consider joining our blog. Read here and then just scroll down to the ‘meta’ section and click on ‘register’. You will receive an email from me with the information you will need to start blogging. We would love to have many more people blogging here.

Have you spoken out about spiritual abuse/unhealthy churches or ministers in some form & if so, how have you done it?