Abuse: The Gift That Keeps Giving

If you ever experience abuse of any sort, you will discover that you eventually come to a point where you have to make a choice. Do you stay silent, or do you speak out? Do you tell the truth, or live a lie?

Saying it like that makes it sound kinda easy and straight forward - but here's the catch:

Both choices involve pain. 

Both choices will cost you. 

Both choices lead to loss.

If you remain silent you will remain 'acceptable'. You will retain your community. You will keep your relationships. Your reputation. Your job.

But you will live with the pain of having to always hide the truth. Of having to constantly play a part. Of feeling endlessly isolated and alone. You will have to endure seeing those who squeezed your heart dry, smile and play the innocent. And you will know deep down that others will be harmed, and that your silence enabled it. You will lose your voice. Your truth. Your integrity.

If you speak out you will discover the sheer relief of simply saying it out loud. Of telling your story. Of giving yourself permission. You will also find fellow survivors who can encourage and support you, and reassure you that you are not alone. That you are not crazy. That it wasn't your fault.

But you will make people angry. You will be blamed by those who don't want to feel uncomfortable. You will be attacked by those who don't want to believe that their idealised (and idolised) leader has feet of clay. You will be shunned by those who would rather not know that their loving friend or family member can treat others so heartlessly. You will lose friends and family. You may even lose your job.

Even though at times it will feel like "heads, you win - tails, I lose", you do have a choice.

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I experienced abuse. And I made the choice to speak out.

I did pay the price. There has been pain and loss.

People did become angry. They did attack me and shun me.

And the truth is that it wasn't just a one-time event. Abuse is the gift that just keeps on giving, because I continue to live with these realities - the lies, the disapproval, the damaged or lost relationships.

And sometimes, as happened this week, I find myself talking to old friends for the first time in years, and having to face the choice all over again. To face the loss of friendship again. To face the pain of rejection again.

And I chose to tell the truth. Again.

Even as I write this, I don't know how my friends will receive that truth. I don't know what cost I will bear for that choice. 

(I don't want to lose their friendship. At the same time I acknowledge that if they reject me for speaking out, I'd already lost it anyway.)

But these days I am confident of who I am (and of who I am not). And I know what prices I am willing to pay (and which are beyond my capacity to afford). And I know that I am worth it (and that not everyone will be able to see this).

And - as unexpected as it was - those things are also gifts that surviving abuse gave me.

Of Con-Men and Religion

There's an old children's story called "The Emperor's New Clothes", which tells the tale of two con-men 'selling' the emperor a new set of clothes. It is said (by the con artists) that these clothes are woven from cloth so fine that only the truly discerning can even see them! Of course it's all a scam, but no-one wants to be thought undiscerning. So they all pretend that the clothes are there until one little boy, too innocent to play the game, actually tells the truth and points out that the emperor is, in fact, stark naked!

It seems to me that this happens in churches all the time. We 'sell' Jesus as the answer to all life's troubles. Come to church and everything will be ok. Say the magic words and you'll be transformed into a super-christian overnight.

The trouble is, it's not true. It's a religious con. Jesus actually promised trouble for those who truly followed him. He promised a sword, not a sofa-bed.

And the product that is sold in many churches doesn't transform people, it merely teaches them the need to perform and pretend. It polices morals, but leaves hearts untouched.

That's why I fought so long and so hard when everything started to go pear-shaped at my ex-church. We, the leadership, were saying that we had a better way - a higher way - but in reality, when the rubber hit the road, we had nothing better to offer at all. We squabbled amongst ourselves like children fighting over a coveted toy. We lashed out at each other and tried to lord it over each other, hoping that the other side would just give up and go away.

And eventually one side did exactly that, and nobody cared that we were wounded and bleeding. Nobody thought they'd done anything wrong. "Church leadership can be brutal," I was told. That's just the way it is. And nobody even questioned that!

Well, I'm calling bullish#t!

Just this week, I was passed on the school steps by the wife of my ex-friend from my ex-church. I spoke to her, but she continued to pretend I didn't exist... well... actually she looked like she really wished that I didn't exist.

Just like my sister-in-law, she has a way of looking at you that makes you grateful that looks can't really kill! Still, it's not for want of venom in her eyes.

www.magicbooksforkids.com

The truly sad thing is that this woman is the "senior leader" (along with her husband) of her very own church! True! Their church even has its own website telling people about how much they value things like love and trust!

But I suspect that's only if you agree with everything they do and say...

Someone who cannot even bring herself to acknowledge my presence, let alone deal with our past issues, is selling herself as a leader - an example for others to follow. But when it comes to her dealings with me, she's not even acting like a grown-up, let alone a christian!

And if she wasn't refusing to have anything to do with me, this is what I'd like to say to her:

Sister, I actually don't care what you think of me, or whether you look maliciously at me every time you see me. It actually doesn't bother me any more, even though it used to tear me apart inside. I've finally found the freedom that Jesus was offering me all those years. And it's better than all the titles and 'authority' I lost when I walked away from the institution.

But here's the thing - when you publicly hold yourself up as a shining example of the "transforming power of Jesus", I will call BS! When I see people being sold a dud product, I will stand up and point it out.

And it's not because I hate you. Or that I want to hurt you. Actually... it's not about you at all.

I do it because I care about the people being conned into thinking they've got the real deal. And I don't want to see anyone else hurt or damaged or betrayed like I was.  And I care less about what people think of me, than I do about those who suffer at hands of religious leaders who are simply peddling snake oil. So when I see christians selling one thing, and living something so entirely different, I will shout a warning and tell the truth that the 'emperor' is absolutely stark naked!

There's Something Terribly Wrong With Our 'Christian' Culture

A few years ago, as a church leader, I experienced bullying and spiritual abuse when one man wanted to 'lord it over' his peers. When the oversight board was called in to help mediate, those men simply took the side of the bully. After experiencing further abuse and an incredible miscarriage of justice, I ended up resigning from leadership and later leaving the institution.

Just a few weeks ago, as an office manager, I needed to deal with a situation where one staff member had been trying to 'lord it over' her peer. When the boss was called in to help effect justice, he simply took the side of the bully. After the victim was further traumatised, and she and I were treated with nothing but injustice, I ended up with no choice but to resign from my job.

Two separate situations - one a church and one a workplace. So what did they have in common? Well, both times pernicious behaviour was ignored; both times justice and integrity were lacking; and both times the events occurred in places which prided themselves on being 'christian' organisations!

Screen shot from The Princess Bride

But to misquote Inigo Montoya, "They keep using that word 'christian'. I do not think it means what they think it means!"

According to the online Oxford Dictionary the word christian, used as an adjective, means:

• relating to or professing Christianity or its teachings: or
• having qualities associated with Christians, especially those of decency, kindness, and fairness.

Now, there was precious little "decency, kindness, and fairness" on display in either of those situations. So I'm left with the question, "Does christian culture relate to demeaning and damaging others, and does it teach us to bully and abuse others?"

Whether you've encountered this reality personally or not, even a cursory glance online or through social media would certainly seem to indicate an affirmative answer is in order. There we find 'pastors' abusing people as well as their assumed positions of 'power'; churches ignoring or defending this behaviour; victims being blamed and shunned; countless blogs detailing injustices perpetrated by 'christian leaders'; and online 'christians' berating and belittling those whose beliefs differ from their own.

We have created a culture so toxic and so harmful that multitudes walk away from it each day - battered and bloodied - and yet we don't even blink an eyelid! We keep smiling and justifying our behaviour and telling ourselves how evil our victims must be. And we do it all in the name of our god!

Where did we get the idea that we are representing Jesus by beating up our brothers and sisters? Who in their right mind would think that treating others with contempt and injustice is a godly display? When will we open our eyes and realise that something is terribly wrong with us?

Why does 'christian' culture seem to create so much pain and hurt when its purported intention is to foster a community of Christ-followers who are known primarily for their love? If we are truly disciples of Jesus, why do we look (and act) so unlike him? 

I've said it before and I'll continue to say it - we've got something seriously wrong guys!

Worse still, our failure to love even our fellow believers (let alone our 'enemies') serves as a warning to those outside the family of God that our religion is dangerous - that instead of creating communities of love, compassion and justice, we generate a culture of anger, arrogance and abuse.

And it is true far too often. We are dangerous. Our culture is toxic. And we totally misrepresent the one whose name we bear!

Why Can't Christians Cope With Disagreement?

A few weeks ago I wrote a post entitled Why Can't Churches Deal With Disagreement? I was discussing the fact that most of my experience with that particular institution has encompassed an enforced conformity to a single viewpoint (usually that of the leader/s) and a lack of willingness to have the difficult conversations which are needed for real unity to occur.

Yesterday, I had an experience which left me wondering (yet again) why it is that individual christians also fail so miserably at this necessary skill.

I had read an article suggesting ways in which christians fail to represent Jesus to the world, and I was engaged in an online discussion regarding it. In the midst of this, one woman had mis-quoted what was written in the author's bio as proof of his heretical tendencies. Knowing how easy it can be to read into the words of those with whom we disagree, I suggested she might have mis-read the original words, as the real quote spoke of something quite different. She quickly replied that she hadn't been referring to his bio at all, but another article entirely. When I quoted her words back to her - words which clearly indicated she had been referring to the author's bio - she became extremely agitated. I was accused of being passive-agressive and questioned about the validity of my faith. She then deleted not just her comments, but her entire profile as well.

Apart from the lack of honesty and integrity on this woman's part, her unwillingness to accept that I could legitimately agree with the author's article was stunning. She and another commenter seemed to think that if they only used enough words, I'd see the error of my ways and repent. Failing that, I'd need to provide concrete evidence, with plenty of biblical referencing, to show to their satisfaction that I was not just being bloody-minded. And even then I'd still be wrong!

Unfortunately, the inability of many christians to accept that anyone could legitimately hold a differing view to theirs is all too common. Common, too, are the displays of anger and the nasty belittling of the person they happily accuse of 'heresy'. It got me thinking about what it is that makes christians prone to display such unloving and ungracious behaviour.

And it occurred to me that the whole institutional church system all but guarantees this outcome. The message we are sold is that only we have the "truth", and that it is our holy duty to set everyone else straight - creating an incredibly arrogant attitude towards those outside our own little sect. On top of that we are trained to be passive receptacles of the preacher's wisdom - teaching us that thinking for ourselves is a dangerous pursuit. Questioning the dogma, or the one who preaches it, will quickly land you in serious trouble!

So we are left with thousands upon thousands of christians who are too arrogant to entertain the validity of any differing perspective, and too conditioned to question the dogma or to think for themselves. Naturally enough, when anyone who claims to follow Jesus but who fails to conform to the approved 'truth' comes on the scene, the only option open is to react in fear and anger.

The more convinced we are of our own correctness, the more tightly we hold to our own perspective. If I am certain that I am correct, then your differing view must inevitably be wrong! My superior understanding trumps yours... every time.

On the other hand, the more open we are to understand that our perspective might be simply one of many (or might even be wrong!) the likelier we are to welcome the input of others, and even benefit from their way of seeing things.

Why do we christians live in constant fear of heresy or error? Why do we insist on a standardised 'faith', refusing to engage with or validate the views of others? For myself, I trust in a God who is big enough to guide us and keep us safe in our faith journey.

Yet it seems we cling to our own pet dogmas like a life raft on a stormy sea, fearful of anything outside that space, and so we fail to be enriched by the wisdom others have to share - and God forbid that wisdom might come from a source outside our own religious enclave! It seems we'd rather destroy relationship and treat others as worthless than give up our own arrogant ignorance.

Maybe it's time we stopped shoving our 'truth' down people's necks and actually listened to what other people are seeing. Maybe it's time we started treating others (and their understandings) with the love and respect that Jesus modelled for all of us!

Seeing the Elephant

The first time I read The Lord of The Rings I must have been about 12 years old. I adored it! Absolutely fell in love with it!

Since then, I've kept coming back to re-read it every few years. And each time I do something new leaps out at me and captures my imagination. Each time I approach this well-loved piece of literature, I find something new to delight my soul.

It's not that the story has changed, but that I have. I've changed. I've grown. And my experience of life has increased with the passing years.

The things which spoke most deeply to me as a young teenager were different from the things that moved me as a newly-wed. What caught my attention when I was a first-time mum was different from what engaged me after my husband walked out. My most recent excursion into its wonder, happily married and with 3 fantastic sons, was different again.

Over the years I came to realise an important truth: what we get out of a book depends greatly upon what we have to bring to it.

But this truth has far greater implications than our enjoyment of a good (or even great!) book. It stays true in all aspects of our life. What we take away from an experience depends greatly on what we have brought to it.

This reality came to mind recently when I was involved in an online 'discussion' over a particular post. As is often the case, there'd been a fair few comments posted of the "I'm right, you're wrong" variety.

I was getting a bit riled by one chap in particular, so I stopped to get some perspective and re-assess my motives for engaging.

And it occurred to me that we were all behaving like the blind men with the elephant. Each of us was reading the author's work according to our own particular bias and understanding. We had each approached the article bearing our own life experience - holding tightly to the things that were important to us.

We'd all read the same words... and yet what we read differed greatly depending on what we'd brought to them. We were feeling different parts of the elephant and declaring our own piece to be the only correct view.

It's probably a good thing to keep in mind. We all have the tendency to think that our own experience or understanding is universal. Many times it's simply out of ignorance - I don't know what I don't know.

But when we fail to stop and consider the possibility that someone else just might be seeing something we can't, we not only invalidate the other person's reality, but we rob ourselves of the opportunity to enlarge our own awareness.

Go and Learn What This Means: I Desire Honesty, Not Christianity

By Zach Hoag

I am a Christian.

I love Christians.

I have great hope for the Christian church.

But throughout my journey one thing has repeatedly frustrated me. And that is the tendency among Christians to value the identity marker of “Christian” over basic truth and honesty.

Oh sure, we’ve got the “truth.” But that truth revolves around theological realities about how one secures salvation or lives the Christian life that must be defended and upheld no matter what, along with the institutions that contain those same realities. In other words, the politics of protecting theological truth turn that truth into a set of ideological markers, showing us who is in and who is out. Who is totally Christian and who is definitely not.

What matters most is to be found in, to not cross the ideological line. What matters most is to fight those who tamper with the ideology. What matters most is the survival of the “truth” in the midst of political forces that might seek to destroy it.

And in the process of the superficial politicking, the actual truth is nowhere to be found.

I think this is why Jesus said, “Go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’” It’s because theological truth is prone to missing the forest for the trees. It’s prone to protecting ideas – institutionalized as rituals – instead of people. It’s prone to the majestic maneuverings of language that seem to prove the point sublimely while missing the point entirely. It’s prone to decrying “positions” in favor of its pure and abstract idea – which is, of course, a position.

Often, a position that harms people.

I’ve come to believe that God desires honesty, not Christianity. Continue reading...