A Thought For Thursday

I just came across this quote from someone who I suspect is the sort of "new-age hippie" the church used to warn us about back in the 80s.

"Spiritual abuse is abuse of the spirit of another human being. We abuse the spirit... by teaching, either covertly or overtly, that that spirit, that soul, that Self, cannot be trusted and/or must be negated in the name of someone’s or some organization’s notions of reality, righteous living, or safe living."

The funny thing is, a couple of weeks ago a friend sent me the link to a blog post from a highly celebrated church leader which included the following quote:

"If we only do what those in leadership over our lives tell us to do when we agree with them, it is not called submission, but rather “doing our own thing.” We must invite leadership into our lives and learn to trust them more than we trust ourselves." [Emphasis added]

When I contrast the two, I'm left with the question, "Does the church create and promote an environment which all but guarantees abuse?"

Leaving The 'Church Collective'

A friend and fellow geek, (yes I'm looking at you Dallas!) commented on my last post about the similarities he sees between the church and the Borg*. And that reminded me of a post I wrote a couple of years ago, comparing the Borg's drive to assimilate other species with the church's zeal to impose "unity" on its members. Naturally enough, that got me thinking more about such things generally, and the Star Trek universe particularly.

[*For those non-geeks among us, Memory Alpha explains: "The Borg were a pseudo-species of cybernetic beings, or cyborgs, from the Delta Quadrant. No single individual truly existed within the Borg Collective (with the possible sole exception of the Borg Queen), as all Borg were linked into a hive mind. Their ultimate goal was the attainment of 'perfection' through the forcible assimilation of diverse sentient species, technologies, and knowledge. As a result, the Borg were among the most powerful and feared entities in the galaxy, without really being a true species at all."]

And that got me thinking about the character, "Seven of Nine" from Star Trek's Voyager series, a Borg drone and one of a sub-group of nine humanoids, all of whom had been captured and assimilated into the Borg collective. After being rescued by the crew of Voyager, Seven was faced with the challenge of learning to be a unique and individual being again.

Naturally enough, she struggles with the process - initially finding the loss of the hive mind confronting in the extreme. She is forced to become an independent individual, learning to live without the constant guidance and instruction of the hive mind.

In one particularly poignant episode, it is revealed that the 'Nine' borgs once crashed on a planet and were consequently cut off from the collective. Freed from that influence, the survivors discover that memories of their previous lives start to emerge. Remembering their lives before assimilation - that they were once free and independent people, with names instead of 'designations' - they decide they don't want to be 'rescued' and re-assimilated by their Borg brethren.

But, while the others of the 'Nine' were assimilated as adults, Seven was only a child when she and her parents were captured. Life as a Borg drone has been all she's really known so, not surprisingly, she acts like the little girl she once was. Seeing the others acting independently, she reacts in fear and panic, eventually forcing the others to rejoin the collective against their wills, and inflicting unthinking damage on them in that process.

Now to me, this seemed like a perfect metaphor for the experience of leaving the institutional church. Not only do those who leave have the sometimes difficult task of discovering who they are outside the 'hive mind' of the church, but they also have to contend with those who react in fear and try to force them back.

It can feel strange and lonely when you first stop operating as part of a 'church collective'. Exploring how to be yourself outside the institution can be challenging. Asking previously forbidden questions, finding new 'answers' to those you did have permission to ask, even finding that you might need to live without the old certainties, can all make for a stretching, even difficult time. You might even make a few mistakes! But that's ok. It's all part of the process of finding freedom and your new place in the world.

So when you face the inevitable naysayers who are fearful of others making an independent choice, and who try to impose their ways upon you again, you can exercise that new-found freedom and make your own decisions. You are not obligated to obey the collective, you can listen to the voice of the Spirit gently guiding you, and you can boldly go where maybe you've never gone before...


Disclaimer: I am not saying that freedom cannot be found within the institutional church. I am saying that I couldn't find it there.

Do Christians Love Like Narcissus?

Greek mythology tells the tale of Narcissus, a young man who, upon seeing his own reflection in the river, fell in love with his own beauty. So entranced was he by the sight, he could not bear to draw himself away. So eventually he died... gazing longingly at the river's image of himself.

Of course, it's only a story - a myth - but as you probably know this is where we get the term "narcissist" from. And since my last post about the church and its understanding of love, I have been wondering if the type of 'love' the church offers too much of the time is actually a pretty narcissistic love. A love that says, "I will love you for so long as you look like me." Too often, we don't love the person who is actually in front of us, we love the idea that this person can be conformed to our own image.

For example, we might hold specific ideas about 'sexual purity', so if this person behaves according to our ideals, we will love them.

Maybe we have strong opinions about submission to authority, so as long as the person falls in line with our thinking, we will love them.

Or perhaps we are convinced that all true christians should believe in a certain doctrine. So as long as others subscribe to that doctrine, we will love them.

But what happens when the people we tell ourselves we love, behave in a way that falls outside our approved list of behaviours? How do we respond when they challenge our pet theologies? Where do we turn when they stop looking like us and start looking like themselves?

I believe that this is the acid test of whether we ever truly loved them, or whether what we loved was the image of ourselves reflected in their compliance.

The sad thing is that this immature, self-serving love is the only one many people have experienced within the church. The love that you can only count on as long as you hold up your end of the bargain. The sort of love that uses the words, "I love you", but says with every action and attitude, "You're not acceptable unless you look like me."

When we say we love someone and yet insist they conform to our way of thinking and behaving, we actually only love ourselves. And 'loving' like that means we simply want to stare at our own reflections until we die of our own self obsession.