I've Been Spiritually Abused. There I Said It.

What is it about going into a church that makes us put all of our natural defenses aside, and WHY have I been doing it all these years? NO MORE. I've trusted without scrutiny, and made positive assumptions about pastors and church leaders far too long. I guess you could say I have more than given them the benefit of the doubt. Why did I do that?



I assumed pastors and church leaders held themselves to the same high standards I held them to. Of course, I know they are mere men. But there's something about mere men who spend their days nurturing their image as men who are wise in the ways of the Kingdom of God, who advise those who look up to them in how to get into Heaven and make their soul and spirit right with God, that makes me think they should be trusted with those very parts of their parishioners. Alas, I have been wrong all these years.



When the first pastor abused my already hurting and abused spirit, I was so very injured to begin with, that I just believed it had to be me. I wasn't worthy of respect, so I didn't get it. That's just the way life was for me. I felt I didn't deserve to be valued, so I didn't defend myself, even though I was crying out inside that he was lying, that he was wrong, and that he was the one with the perverse mind in the whole situation. See, I attended a week-long "revival" at my church. The visiting minister invited the teens to a class each evening that week that he would teach. He taught a lesson using a popular rock song as an object lesson. Looking back, it was shallow and not very insightful, but it was more interesting than the lessons we usually got at that church. I attended each night and participated in the class. I confided some of the problems I had at home, and they were plenitful at that time, and he seemed to take an interest, prayed for me and gave me advice. He gave all the teens his address and invited us to write to him, which I did once a couple months later, seeking his advice again about my home situation. To say I was desperate for someone to reach out and tell me God loved me would be an understatement. Instead, I got a letter back which was angry and cursory telling me I had obviously allowed transference to take over and that I had become overly attached to him and that it would be inappropriate for us to continue to correspond. I felt ill. I had no attraction to him. I was dating a boy, I had numerous friends, and an active social life. He was married with children, and just the thought of what he was suggesting made me nauseous. Once again, I had been slapped down and made to feel like gum on the bottom of someone's shoe, just when I really needed someone to extend a hand of support. I showed the letter to my homechurch pastor and he forbade me from defending myself to the guy. They close ranks quickly, don't they?

What's so abusive about that situation? He is someone who signed up to lead people to Christ, to point them to the Kingdom in the midst of their problems and teach them what it means to follow Him. He dangled the carrot of sympathy and understanding in front of us, then didn't follow through. He prepared an object lesson, presented it, and when he actually caught a fish, he threw it back in. What a miserable excuse for a fisherman...or a pastor.

There have been several more examples of abuse from pastors and churches in my history. I will address them in future entries. It's just time to heal. I hope this will spur that process for me. I take hope in knowing that because Jesus lives inside me, He was there. He saw everything and felt my pain and humiliation and worthlessness. He bore it on the cross, and I don't have to anymore. I keep telling myself that...