Reunion

In the early 1980s I was in college, living on fraternity/sorority row.  But it wasn't a sorority house.  It was the local branch of Maranatha Christian Churches/Campus Ministries founded by Bob and Rose Weiner.  As I have described here and here, Maranatha was a Christian group with strong authoritarian control.   We lived in the Maranatha House and went to church in the meeting room of that house, and we slept on the sleeping porches on the third floor and tried to get our homework done or hold down our jobs, despite endless outreach meetings, prayer meetings and other Maranatha obligations.

On Labor Day this year, 29 years after gradating from college, I went to an annual get-together of  a long-standing group of former Maranatha members from my college town.  The ties I have with these people are very strong, indeed practically unbreakable.  As we ate and talked, laughed and took pictures and caught up on one another's lives, I found myself wondering what it is that binds us together so closely, after almost 30 years.

It's certainly not because we still agree on everything the way we did back then, when we had all the right answers to all the right questions and knew how big a part our group of "God's Green Berets" was playing in the advance of God's "dominion mandate."  It's not because we stayed physically close; though some members still live in the same city, some of us have been scattered long distances. And it's not because we spend our time together living in the past; in fact, I don't think the word "Maranatha" or our experiences there came up once in any of the conversations I had at the reunion this year.

No, the bonds run much deeper than that.

It probably helps that all of us in this group of former members somehow managed to stay married to the spouses we met in Maranatha (which seems a miracle in itself!), and that we all had kids and got jobs and watched the kids grow up-- in short, that we have lived basically similar middle-class lives. And we did all remain Christians.  But those are really just general similarities-- and we have met at least once a year since our children were in infant carriers, and now most of those kids are in college or have finished school and moved out-- but we have not grown apart.

The thing is this.  Even if we don't always talk about our shared histories, the fact is that for several intense years we lived together and ate and slept and washed together (though of course boys and girls chastely slept and showered in separated areas).  We rotated the cooking and cleaning, and we played games in the dining/fireside room and helped each other with homework and gave each other Christmas presents.

We held car washes almost every Saturday of every summer to try to pay expenses for the house's upkeep.  We saved as much as we could to buy oil for the ancient furnace.  When school started, and again in the spring, we had six to eight weeks of meetings every night and were required to hand out flyers for these meetings on campus right after dinner.  There were also shorter "outreach" periods (2-4 weeks each, with meetings 3-4 times a week) at other points during the year.  Once a month we piled into cars and drove to Seattle for a "Maranatha Leadership Training Seminar."  I'm really not sure why we didn't all flunk out of school!

Several times a year we fasted and prayed for up to three days, and sometimes we held all-night prayer meetings, joined via satellite to other Maranatha congregations all over the globe.  (I remember one year the central leadership found out that it's better not to expect even young, strong college kids to pray all night and fast at the same time.  After several kids collapsed, fasting and all-night prayer were never observed at the same time again!  The leadership was actually lucky that no serious health problems resulted that they might have been held legally liable for.)

Whenever we could snatch any spare time, we'd go to movies together (if approved by the local leaders) or watch TV.  One of the girls' favorite activities was to listen to me read stories aloud (Winnie the Pooh, or the Chronicles of Narnia), while they did embroidery or cross-stitch.  (I was glad to be the reader because I loved to read aloud and secretly hated cross stitch, though as a woman I was supposed to like such things.)

We shared with each other the details of our lives and our troubles with parents or siblings.  We bundled up together when the furnace broke down from advanced arthritis or stopped for lack of fuel. We swam together in the house's swimming pool when it was hot (I'm sure the car wash money helped pay for pool treatment chemicals too).  We all knew what each of us looked like in the mornings before showers. We all knew what we looked like in the middle of the night without sleep.

All of this stays with us, even when we don't talk about it.  We have talked about it, of course-- at great length, over the years.  We walked with each other on our journeys out of authoritarian, spiritually abusive religion too.  And it turns out that what we have done together is something pretty rare-- the fact that Maranatha Christian Churches voluntarily disbanded in the early 1990s meant that we could leave Maranatha without shunning or estrangement-- that we were able to come out together.

And though we don't necessarily all agree anymore except on foundational Christian doctrines like the Trinity, the Incarnation, Atonement and Resurrection, we have all, I think, learned certain things from that journey out.

What have we learned?  I think it boils down to this:  that ultimately, there is no value in trying to force one another, or ourselves, to conform to some cookie-cutter standard of who or what we're supposed to be.  That each of us, in our own selves, is essentially and foundationally valuable.  And that our relationships with one another are more important than any differences we might have.

If nothing else good came out of being in a spiritually abusive religious group, this did: that in reaction to authoritarian control, we let go, once and for all, of any desire to control one another. Instead, we simply love one another.

And that should last us another 30 years, and beyond.

Matthew 18 and Spiritual Abuse

I have been asked a few times over the last several months to do a blog post on Matthew 18:15-17, where Jesus teaches about what to do if a member of a Christian group is committing wrongs that are harmful enough that they cannot be overlooked.  Here's the text, from the 2011 NIV:

“If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over. But if they will not listen, take one or two others along, so that ‘every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.’ If they still refuse to listen, tell it to the church; and if they refuse to listen even to the church, treat them as you would a pagan or a tax collector.

The context of this verse is as part of one of Jesus' large teaching units in the gospel of Matthew.  He is here teaching about interpersonal relationships within the  "kingdom of heaven" [verse 1], which will include all who trust and follow Jesus.  He starts by stating that the greatest in the kingdom is as a little child, which, as I described in another blog post, meant letting go of earthly status and hierarchy. Then He goes on to warn against "despising" any of these "little ones-- those who believe in Me."  In other words, those who believe in Jesus should voluntarily become lowly and without status, like children ("little ones"), and their resulting vulnerability must not be taken advantage of or used to harm them. (For an excellent study of the whole chapter, see the Christian Resource Institute's study by Roger Hahn.)  He then talks about how valuable these "little ones" are to the Father, and how He will seek them if they stray.

It is at this point that verses 15-17 occur: just after the discussion of stumbling blocks put in the way of the "little ones."  The Christian group as a whole can choose to remove anyone who is causing grievous harm to one or more members of the group.  Jesus speaks in terms of "brothers and sisters" to indicate equality of status in the group.  He does not envisage the church as a hierarchy where leaders alone assume the power to excommunicate; an action as drastic as that should be done by the consensus of the whole group.

The rest of the teaching is about interpersonal forgiveness when brothers and sisters sin against one another.  Jesus speaks of the need to forgive "up to seventy times seven" times, and tells a parable whose point is that, since God has forgiven us so much, we ought also to forgive one another.  Taking this section together with verses 15-17 leads me to conclude that Jesus is differentiating between forgiveness (personal letting go of animosity) and reconciliation (restoring relationships).   To forgive someone up to seventy-times-seven times is one thing; to have them "listen to you" so that you have "won them over" is another.   The possibility of excommunication means that relationship is not to be restored when the person who has harmed you is unrepentant and unwilling to change-- even after being confronted with witnesses to the harm that was done.

The principles of Jesus' teaching in Matthew 18:15-17 are sound.  A group should have the power to disassociate itself from people who are causing serious harm to one or more members, and a graduated-step process seems the most appropriate way to deal with such people.  The problem is that these verses are so often misused, particularly by people in power to enable themselves to stay in power.  Here are some examples from around the blogosphere:

From Under Much Grace:

In many spiritually abusive groups, Matthew chapter 18, verses 15-19 is used like a static formula which is misapplied to manipulate and control others. Many misapply it as something appropriate for minor offenses instead of overt sin, as the consequences of the process can result in excommunication from that local church. A person can be offended by someone's behavior, but it may not necessarily constitute a sin, particularly not one that carries such heavy consequences. In aberrant Christian groups, the passage is used to rid the group of “problem,” nonconformist members (who are not sinning) and becomes a means by which clergy can micromanage if not threaten church members. (It is used to manipulate and control behavior.)

Among very litigious groups, the process is used to declare people non-Christian or never legitimate Christians so that they can be at liberty to violate a directive of the Apostle Paul who forbids Christians to sue other Christians, as it is found in a letter he wrote to the Church at Corinth (1 Corinthians 6:1-11). This practice of threatening to “de-Christianize” other professing Christians is actually common among those who follow patriarchy. This type of abuse of the passage has become popular enough that the saying that a person has been “Matthew Eighteened” has become somewhat commonplace among some Protestant Evangelical groups.

From Debra Bouey at Crossword Articles:

When Biblical apologists comment publicly on . . . aberrant, sometimes heretical, teachings, the principals involved, and their supporters, quickly and repeatedly raise the "Matthew 18 Argument", contending that the "brother" [or, as the case may be, "sister"] should have been approached privately, "according to Matthew 18".

From ResolveChurchConflict.com:

Jesus's words here were not intended and should not be used as a general model for all conflict resolution. . . Matthew 18 instructs the church on how to deal with sin on an interpersonal level that is serious enough to remove an unrepentant member from fellowship. . .  Matthew 18 is not applicable for solving differences of opinion and other kinds of problems. 

From Slacktivist:

99 percent of the time, this is the way this passage is used and abused — as a cudgel to beat truth-tellers back into silence. How dare you expose my wrong-doing? Jesus commanded you to come to me privately, so that we could work this out just between the two of us. . .

From the Biblical Seminary Theology Blog:

Does this passage require that abuse victims forego reporting abuse to the authorities and to make a private confrontation of the perpetrator? Sadly, I have heard stories where not only were victims chastised for reporting abuse, but then made to go to the perpetrator and confess their sin of not following Matthew 18.

From Rachel Held Evans' Interview with Boz Tchividjian:

[T]his passage is used as a justification for 1) not reporting abuse disclosures to the civil authorities and 2) convincing sexual abuse victims to privately confront their perpetrators. Needless to say, this misinterpretation of Matthew 18 is hugely destructive on a number of fronts.

It's very important not to lift verses like Matthew 18:15-17 out of their historical context-- how they were meant to be understood and applied in their original setting, to their original audience. Jesus' words were meant to be understood in terms of a small counter-cultural group within an indifferent or even hostile surrounding culture.  Such a group had a much greater need to police its own members for things which today are crimes which should be handled by civil authorities.  Jesus also was not envisioning a church where power was concentrated in the hands of one or two people who would then be in a position to abuse their authority.  Neither was He setting forth some universal principle for conflict resolution to be applied in a blanket manner to all situations.  As Boz Tchividjian says later in the above-linked interview:

Matthew 18 is important for local church life, because Jesus commands us there how to deal with sin. But it is not the only passage in which Jesus tells us how to deal with sin. It must be properly synthesized with others that address the same subject directly and/or indirectly. It is critical to remember that all passages are regulated and interpreted by the balance of Scripture. . . [For instance,] on Romans 13, Jesus tells us through the Apostle Paul that believers are to be subject to the civil authorities.

I don't think that even in the early days when the civil authorities were mostly hostile, would the church have required a sexual abuse victim to privately confront a perpetrator.  1 Corinthians 5:1 seems to indicate a situation like this, where the man who "had his father's wife" appeared to be held solely responsible and the congregation was instructed to remove him from the fellowship.  Women had far less agency then than they have today in any event-- but there appears to have been no idea in Paul's mind that the woman should follow a Matthew 18 private confrontation.

In the authoritarian, spiritually abusive group I was part of in my earlier Christian life, the problem was not so much crimes that should have been handled by civil authorities, but the fact that confronting a leader with his sin would lead directly to leader-led discipline against the person who dared to complain.  Trying to discuss a wrong privately with an authoritarian leader is impossible-- it will immediately be turned around to be construed as your sin, not his.  As the above Slacktivist quote states, Matthew 18 thus becomes a way to keep the rank-and-file members from speaking out.

And of course, authoritarian leaders often also use Matthew 18 as if simply disagreeing with them-- about anything at all-- were sin.  And then once a person has been excommunicated using the Matthew 18 process, they can be treated as enemies and prosecuted or sued accordingly (as the above Under Much Grace article notes).

Finally, a person who speaks out publicly against spiritually abusive doctrines can be accused of not handling it biblically, by taking the disagreement to the person privately first. This has a way of simply shutting down all discussion.  But Jesus and the apostles themselves were actually quite vocal about publicly refuting doctrines and teachings they disagreed with.  Matthew 18 is not about doctrinal differences.

Other passages show situations which were not "Matthew 18" events.  In Acts 15:39 Paul and Barnabas had a "sharp disagreement" without handling it according to Jesus' Matthew 18 teaching, because His teaching simply did not apply to disagreements about who to travel with!  And when Paul found Peter, a fellow church leader, involved in public hypocrisy, Paul also rebuked him publicly (Galatians 2:11-14).  Paul doesn't seem to have expected any of the Gentiles who were being ostracized at the table, to confront Peter privately.  Jesus' Matthew 18 teachings apparently didn't apply there, either-- possibly because Peter's sin was not harmful enough that he needed to be asked to leave.  Or possibly because Peter's actions were in front of everybody, and so his correction needed to also be in front of everybody.  Or perhaps because Peter was an apostle, and Paul thought it best for another apostle to confront him.  Or all three.

It's never a good idea to isolate one set of verses from the rest of scripture and follow them slavishly as if they were universally applicable in every situation.  Particularly in ways that violate the good which the passage intended, and do harm the passage never contemplated.

In any event, Christians, and especially Christian leaders, need to be careful about using passages of scripture to their own advantage at the expense of others.  This is against every principle that Jesus taught-- and it's what most of His rebukes of the scribes and Pharisees were about.

A Bible used as a weapon against other human beings, is always a Bible misused.

Christian Cliches: "Lean Not on Your Own Understanding"

When I was part of Maranatha Campus Ministries back in the 1980s, "Lean not on your own understanding" was a cliche they were particularly fond of.  I remember when they were teaching us that Genesis 1:28, where God told the first male and female to "have dominion. . . over every living thing that moves on the earth," was a divine mandate meaning that today Christians are to "have dominion" in society and government, to "take over" for Jesus and make Christian principles and morality the "law of the land."  I remember shaking my head in puzzlement.  That passage doesn't say anything about human beings ruling over other human beings.  According to that passage, there weren't any other human beings back then to have dominion over! I thought.  But when I tried to express some of this to others in the group, their response was, "Lean not on your own understanding."  We were to believe what the Bible said (by which they actually meant what the leaders interpreted the Bible as saying) without question.  We were to think as we were told to think. To do otherwise was not "trusting in the Lord."  It was "leaning on our own understanding."

Another way this cliche is sometimes used is to elevate ideology over practicality; to keep people clinging to a particular "conviction" about how the Christian life is best lived, even if life itself is increasingly showing that the ideological system just doesn't work.  Vyckie Garrison, a former Quiverfull movement member, wrote about this a while back in an open letter where she commiserated with a fellow member who had tragically lost a child during a home birth:

Although we both knew full well that a big part of what makes for better outcomes in natural childbirth is when fully-informed pregnant moms are in control ~ they are listening to their bodies and trusting their instincts ~ as Christian quiverfull women, we also learned to distrust our feelings and we daily practiced dying our own selves, surrendering control, leaving the decision-making to those in rightful authority. . . Looking back, I can clearly see now how verses such as “Trust in the Lord with all of your heart, lean not on your own understanding”. . . set us up as women to doubt our own perceptions ~ to dismiss our fears as irrational or as the devil sowing seeds of distrust. Our deeply beloved belief system denied us an important safety net ~ that of our own feelings. When our bodies and our minds screamed out, “Something is wrong!” our faith calmed us down. . . .

Both of these meanings of "lean not on your own understanding" are spiritually abusive, cliched versions of scripture that divorce the meaning from its context, both biblical and historical. I don't think either of these things is what "lean not on your own understanding" is really about.

The words actually come from Proverbs 3:5-6:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.

This verse is part of a long set of instructions and counsel given by a father and/or mother to a son (see Proverbs 1:8).  Verses 7 and 8 of Proverbs 3 together form a poetic parallel-- a form of Hebrew writing in which two sentences say the same thing in slightly different ways:

Do not be wise in your own eyes;
fear [revere] the Lord and shun evil.
This will bring health to your body
and nourishment to your bones.

"Do not be wise in your own eyes," then, is basically a restatement of "Lean not on your own understanding."  The word "understanding" there is the Hebrew biynah, which refers to the grasp of knowledge. To put it in today's vernacular, what is being said is, "Don't think you have all the answers."

The problem is this.  When "Trust in the Lord with all your heart" comes to actually mean "Trust in what you think the Bible is saying without considering any other interpretation," or "Trust in the doctrines taught by the leaders of your particular movement without question" -- this is the exact opposite of the Proverb's intention.  If we really stop believing we have all the answers, this should make us more willing to question what we think or have been taught to believe. It should make us more open to the evidence and realities around us.  It should increase our sensitivity to such things as gut feelings, which are a different thing than "understanding" and which may very well come from God.

Also, the Proverb says "with all your heart."  What we mean by "heart" and what it meant in Bible times are two different things.  We think "heart" is only about feelings and instincts; we use the word "mind" when we mean our thoughts and reasoning processes.  "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding" thus is easily misinterpreted as advice to focus on our feelings towards God and to leave our reasoning out of it.  But the word translated "heart" is the Hebrew word leb, which refers to the whole inmost self: feelings, thoughts, conscience, memories, inclinations, decisions.  If our whole innermost selves are relying on God rather than on our own understanding-- whether it's our own grasp of knowledge or that of a church leader or an ideological group-- then we can listen to new input and our own reactions, learn facts and knowledge we may not have been aware of, and lean on the Holy Spirit to help us sift through it all.

I believe Paul was expressing the essential meaning of Proverbs 3:5-6 when he said, "Knowledge puffs up while love builds up. Those who think they know something do not yet know as they ought to know. But whoever loves God is known by God." (1 Corinthians 8:1-2.)   This part of Paul's letter is about how "knowledge" about food sacrificed to idols can be destructive to others-- as any form of knowledge can when it becomes elevated into an ideology that trumps actual human needs.

"Lean not on your own understanding" was never meant to support any such ideology. It was never meant to support trusting in our own grasp of knowledge-- even our knowledge of the Bible-- over trusting in the Lord Himself.

Our faith isn't supposed to be in formulas, or in how if we push the right buttons according to our ideologies, everything will be rosy.  It's when we treat faith like that that we're actually leaning on our own understanding.  Not when we're healthily questioning, listening and learning.

So let's stop acting like we have all the answers.  That way we can grow in our understanding rather than leaning on it.

Sovereign Grace Ministries and Abuse: Time to Speak Out

For some time I've been watching with a heavy heart the progress of the lawsuit initially filed against Sovereign Grace Ministries in October 2012.  The original news articles have long since been archived, but the evangelical watchdog blog site The Wartburg Watch still has quotes from those early news reports.  In January of this year an amended lawsuit was filed.  The basic allegations were that various pastoral leaders of SGM covered up members' allegations of child abuse and sexual molestation from the 1980s on.

The current news is that due to statute of limitations issues, it has been ruled that most of the victims have brought their lawsuit too late, and the case has been dismissed.  What saddens me is that while this is not because any of the allegations have even been addressed (and some of the defendants will undoubtedly bring a new suit), supporters of SGM's leader Charles Mahaney have chosen this time to voice their support in a way that belittles the stories of the accusers and vilifies the victims. While ostensibly acknowledging that "There is no excuse, at any time or in any place or for any reason, for the use of children for sexual pleasure," the article states "we are friends with C.J [Mahaney]," and goes on to say:

He has also been the object of libel and even a Javert-like obsession by some. One of the so-called discernment blogs—often trafficking more in speculation and gossip than edifying discernment—reprinted a comment from a woman who issued this ominous wish, "I hope [this lawsuit] ruins the entire organization [of SGM] and every single perpetrator and co-conspirator financially, mentally and physically."

The problem with this quote is that it is not from some outside voice passing judgment on a "discernment blog" (which apparently means a blog set up to exercise "spiritual discernment" as to the orthodoxy of other ministries; this term is frequently used as a pejorative).  The Wartburg Watch has located the source of the original quote, and it is from a woman who was raped during an SGM home-group meeting at the age of 13.  It does not come from a discernment blog at all, but from a survivors' blog, meant to be a safe place for former SGM members to tell their stories.  For Mahaney's friends on the Gospel Coalition blog to quote this in the manner they quote it, conveys the message that they consider speaking against their friends' ministry, even if it comes out of pain, to be a more important issue than a victim's response to her rape.

However you slice it, this is outrageous.  If they didn't know where the quote came from, they shouldn't have quoted it.  If they did know-- then they have just treated a woman like garbage in order to make their powerful friend's ministry look good.

So I have to speak out too.

To the writers of the Gospel Coalition's message: look.  I recognize how hard it is to navigate the waters when someone you consider a friend has been accused of something like this.  But the fact remains that by coming out strongly on the side of the one with pastoral power at this point in the proceedings, you are contributing (whatever your protests to the contrary) to the re-victimization of the victims and the upholding of the power structures that made SGM ripe for these sorts of criminal abuses in the first place.

There are simply too many allegations by too many disparate people, for this to be merely a vindictive false attack.  And C. J. Mahaney, as the founder and leader of SGM, simply cannot hold himself aloof and claim ignorance.  The authoritarian structures that were set up and/or maintained by him directly caused an environment where abuse was aided and abetted-- and he had the power to prevent it, or at the very least stop it in its tracks.  He is the one who created the environment where leaders were given blanket endorsement and protection, while the people at the bottom were silenced.  Whether he likes it or not, by setting authority up as unassailable and himself up as the top authority, he made himself responsible for the behavior of his sub-leaders and well-being of his lowliest followers.  And you, as his friends, ought to have told him so.

As I have shared elsewhere on my blog, Sovereign Grace Ministries is one of the successors to the Shepherding Movement in which I spent my college years as part of Maranatha Campus Ministries.  I know very well the structures that uphold those in power while viewing with suspicion and disapproval anyone who dares speak against or even question them.

Virginia Knowles at Watch the Shepherd a former member of SGM, concurs.  She writes:

Unfortunately, this is not just a problem in SGM, but in a host of other religious organizations. It is the culture of shame and silence -- and women, especially young ones, are the most vulnerable to both sexual abuse and domestic violence. . . In both this lawsuit and my extensive research on abuse of authority (especially gender-based) these are some of the pastoral sentiments I've heard about...

"We're all sinners. Yes, he might have hurt you, but think of how you have sinned. You have no right to complain." (I call this phenomena "psychological socialism" and some day I will write more extensively about it.)
"He said he was sorry. You need to meet with him face to face so he can apologize. Be reconciled with your brother in Christ!"
"He has apologized to you! He's really sincere! Now you can forgive and forget! You must not gossip or slander him by telling anyone else about it. If you tarnish his reputation, he'll never be able to get on with his life, keep a job, continue his ministry, and provide for his wife and children."
"Counseling? Sure, come right into my office. Oh, you mean from professional counselors? Don't bother. They'll only give you ungodly psychobabble and lead you astray."
"Call the police? No way! Are you crazy? We don't need to bring another believer before the law. This is something the church should handle, not the worldly and godless secular government system. He just needs to see the light and repent. Jesus is enough."
"Oh, you don't want to tell anyone that anything has happened at this church! What sort of reputation will that give to our ministry -- and to God? We must protect our gospel witness!"
"You are a woman. A woman is not supposed to teach or have authority over men, but to quietly support and follow them. How dare you usurp my authority and question how I run my church [or this family]?" [edited for brevity, but you get the point.]

Hannah at Wine and Marble lived the SGM life for 10 years.  She explains how this climate is created in this kind of organization:

You stop thinking critically, because questioning things is ever-so-subtly frowned upon. It’s welcomed, objectively, but you feel slight displeasure or get sidelined because of suddenly busy schedules (because. . . they have slowly, subtly made you dependent on their approval for your confidence in your discernment and spiritual maturity). . .

You have the perfect storm for socially quick, manipulative personalities to rise quickly in the ranks of the church leadership, for the depressed and hurting to beat themselves up for their sins and keep accepting any critiques of their attitudes or actions, and the insecure to always, always second-guess their own instincts and instead choose to follow the advice and corrective teachings of those in authority over them.

It’s not brainwashing, but it’s a social immersion into a culture where you lose your sense of self, your boundaries, your privacy, and your ability to reason independently in a slow fade to submissive SGM church member, fiercely loyal to the great people and genuine culture of faith there.

It’s insane.

And so, in that world, your child tells you that so-and-so at care group touched their private parts. You are furious. You confront this person, you tell your care group leader. Your care group leader tells you that he’s going to bring this up with your pastor and get back to you (because no one thinks to call the cops yet), and the pastor wants to meet with you (maybe you’ve never had any one-on-one time with your pastor before, so you feel affirmed and like he’s taking it seriously)…and then you’re angry in the meeting toward your child’s molester, and you get confronted about your anger, and, and, and…

Suddenly, the SGM sin-confrontation system has kicked into high gear, and the child abuse has take a back seat (because, it’s only on the child’s word, and children are so sinful and need to be trained to love Jesus and not walk in their flesh)…

And it never gets reported. And your child is made to hug his/her abuser. And the abuser is seen as repentant and restored, and you think, well, maybe it’ll be okay. That process of rooting out sin is really thorough. And they have so much accountability–from their accountability partner and their care group leader and from the pastor.

And nothing is done about it.

So what should have been done about it?

Ministry leaders that really cared about their congregations should have been the first to investigate the first rumor of the sexual or physical abuse of children.  SGM's leaders did not.  If a reason was found to suspect a church leader of such a crime, the police ought to have been immediately brought in.  If a church leader was found to have committed such an offense, he ought to have been permanently removed from ministry and encouraged to show repentance by serving his time as a model prisoner.  SGM did none of these things.

When a lawsuit was brought against SGM, they should have responded in open shame and horror, with the top leaders offering to step down until the investigation was complete and the perpetrators properly dealt with in the courts.   Instead, SGM instructed its lawers to assert a First Amendment "clergy-congregant confidentiality" defense.  But this was not about a minister's right to keep secrets of private sins confessed privately.  This is about the cover-up by ministers of accusations brought by victims of heinous crimes.  

And the last thing that should ever have happened was for these victims-- some as young as two and three years old-- to be forced to verbally forgive their abusers face-to-face.

Zach L. Hoag's Blog calls it "A False Gospel of Reconcilation": 

The most grotesque allegations to come out of this lawsuit have to do with the culture of “gospel-centered reconciliation” in this movement, where victims of abuse – often, children – were simply told to “forgive” and “reconcile” with their adult church member/leader abusers. I mean, it’s better than you deserve, right? So get over it. And smack dab in the center of this demonic-gospel culture were leaders who rise to levels of immense influence over their cruelly “humbled” people, all the while claiming to be humble themselves. . . 

And this false gospel of reconciliation doesn’t stop here. It is not only reserved for churches fraught with sex abuse scandals. It rears its ugly head in all kinds of conservative evangelical circles, taking the similar shape of pain-denying theologies that counsel victims to get over it and get back together with those who harmed them. [Emphasis in original.]

Hoag compares this with the true reconciliation that Jesus preached:

The goal toward which the resurrected Jesus is working in the world right now is not some imaginary peace where people “reconcile” in name only while the abuse is never stopped and the wrong never righted. No, this is instead a total bending of the violent and unjust world back toward God’s shalom, until it is completely put to rights on the final day. . . And reconciliation, rightly lived as part of God’s cosmic work to restore all things, always subverts the empire of unjust power and control. It messes with thrones and powers and rulers and authorities. It takes them to task. [Emphasis in original.]

Now, unlike Zach Hoag, I don't think this is really about whether the group is Calvinist or not.  As I have said elsewhere on my blog, I think Calvinism can sometimes lead to too great a focus on authority in the church, but not always-- nor is it always Calvinism that falls into this mentality.  Maranatha Campus Ministries was basically Arminian, and yet they created an environment where abuse (not, as far as I know, physical or sexual abuse, but definitely spiritual abuse) was nurtured and grew.  On the other hand, Pastor Wade Burleson of Istoria Ministries is Calvinist, and yet I am certain nothing like this could ever happen in his church.  Here, in Burleson's own words, is why:

Jesus said that real leaders are servants, not masters. . . Let me be clear. Those kind of pastors - pastors that advocate an authoritarianism inherent in the pulpit, that stifle any and all dissent from the members of their congregations, that humiliate and denigrate the members who for the sake of conscience ask questions - could very well be considered great expositors of the Word of God and doctrinally orthodox. Yet those pastors display a character that is the antithesis of the character of Christ, an ironhandedness that is the opposite of genuine grace, and a disposition that should cause their congregations to realize that their pastors are but one step away from falling over the precipice of moral failure in terms of their church ministries or personal lives.

I think Burleson's diagnosis is absolutely correct.  It is authoritarianism that creates distance between a church leader and a congregation, so that members who bring complaints are viewed with suspicion while those with power are held to be above reproach.  It is this that creates a climate where power can corrupt, and absolute power can corrupt absolutely.

But the Bible actually teaches this:

Be shepherds of God's flock that is under your care. . . not pursuing dishonest gain, but eager to serve; not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock. (1 Peter 5:2-3, emphasis added.)

And do not participate in the unfruitful deeds of darkness, but instead even expose them.  (Ephesians 5:11.)

So what is the right thing to do when you are a pastoral leader in a position of power and authority, and a friend who is also in a position of power and authority becomes the subject of multiple allegations of abuse by his ministry and cover-up by himself?  

Ultimately, it isn't being a good friend to close your eyes to his wrongdoings.  And no matter how close of friends two or more powerful Christian leaders are, their first responsibility as leaders must be to care for the most vulnerable members of their flocks.  The leaders of the Gospel Coalition simply cannot refuse to listen to what biblical shorthand calls "the widow and orphan" when they come pleading for justice. (Isaiah 1:17, James 1:27.)

There's still time to do the right thing.  I hope these Christian leaders decide to do it. 

Silencing Techniques

Have you ever had an entire conversation that was not about the thing you wanted to talk about, but about why you needed to stop talking about it?

It's called silencing.

Silencing is when rather than addressing the substance of whatever it is being talked about, someone tries to dismiss, trivialize or derail the conversation, so that the topic, whatever it is, stops getting discussed.  The person who started the conversation ends up focusing not on the issue at hand, but on defending the validity either of the topic or of his or her own voice.  Here are some categories of silencing, with specific examples from things that have been said to me or that I've heard said to others.

Suggesting you're being frivolous or the issue is not important.

"How can you waste your time talking about this when there are so many more important problems in the world?

"Shouldn't you be: a) spreading the gospel; b: helping the poor; c) taking care of your children instead of focusing on these issues?"

"The Bible is a toxic book riddled with errors and contradictions.  Discussing what one of its verses means is a waste of time."

Questioning your motives.

"You're only talking about this because you want personal power/you're overly ambitious."  (for an example, see Are Women Seeking Ministry "Demanding Rights"?)

"The reason you're saying all this is that in your heart you don't want to obey God."

"You're just trying to find a way out of following the Bible."

"What it comes down to is that you resent your God-given role as a woman."

"Deep in your heart you know there's no God; that's why you're arguing so much about it."

"Othering" you.  ("Othering" is defined as "a way of defining and securing one’s own positive identity through the stigmatization of an 'other.'" In other words, "you're not one of us, so we don't have to listen to you.")

"You're not really an evangelical/you don't believe the Bible is inerrant [therefore, we can't trust anything you say]."

"You're one of those feminists, aren't you?"

"That's a bleeding-heart liberal response."

"That's a knee-jerk conservative response."

"What can you expect from a Christian?"

"This is all part of the homosexual agenda."

"No one who takes a different view on this position could really be saved."

Assuming you just don't understand, or you would agree with them.

"Sorry, sister, but you're deceived."

"Let me explain again why you're wrong, and maybe you'll get it this time."

"Try to consider this rationally."

"As any reasonable person could see. . . "

"Gaslighting" you.  (The term "gaslighting" comes from the 1944 movie Gaslight, in which a young wife is manipulated by her husband into believing she is going insane.  It now means any attempt by one person to make another doubt his or her perception of reality by "telling the other that there is something wrong with the way she sees the world or there's something wrong with who she is.")

"You're overreacting/too sensitive."

"You're getting emotional about this."

"I can see that you're bitter."

"You've clearly been a victim of abuse, so you can't look at this issue objectively."

"Someone in your past misused authority in a way that hurt you, and that's why you don't like hearing what I'm telling you."

Telling you to "lighten up" or "let it be."

"You're being strident."

"Why can't you just enjoy this sermon/movie/song for what it is?  Why do you have to analyze it?"

"You're the one trying to silence us through insisting we be 'politically correct.'"

"Can't you take a joke?"

Privileging their position/appealing to authority.

"The Bible is very clear on this."

 "The church has believed as I believe for 2000 years."

"But that's never happened to me."

"Most Christian women believe as I do and are happy."

"I'm a Greek scholar, and I know what I'm talking about."

Telling you to ignore the problem.

"It was a good sermon.  If anything that was said bothers you, just forget that part."

"Don't be so negative. Do you always have to focus on that?"

"Just eat the meat and spit out the bones."

Telling you that the upset you're causing is more important than the problem you're pointing out.

"You're being divisive."

"Don't rock the boat/make waves."

"Stop making a fuss."

"Christians should be focusing on what unifies us, not on our differences."

Telling you that you talk too much about the issue.

"This is getting boring. Enough already."

"Stop beating a dead horse."

"Do you have to bring this up again?"


Anything sound familiar?

I'm pretty sure that almost everyone has had someone attempt to silence them, about something or other, at some time or other.  But the point is that as soon as you start arguing with a silencer about whether or not you should say something, you've been effectively stopped from actually saying it.

I think we all need to learn to recognize these techniques, so that when someone attempts to silence us, we can simply point it out and then get back to the substance of the issue.  And if we're responsible for attempting to silence someone else, we need to see that we're doing it and back off.

Issues need to be addressed on their own merits.  Trying to shut someone up ultimately doesn't solve anything, and it's actually just another weapon in the arsenal of spiritual or verbal abuse.

The only words that need to stop are the silencing ones.

UPDATE:  Dianna Anderson over at Faith and Feminism has written an amazing piece called  White Lady Feminism, Christian Blogging and the Worst of Both Possible Worlds, where she provides an excellent example of how "Don't rock the boat" and "Let's only focus on the good things" are used to silence dissenters within a movement-- with a corollary of "We have to present a united front, so quit bashing your brothers!" which really should be considered as a silencing technique in and of itself.


--------------------------

Note: Saying "that's racist" or "that's sexist" or "that's homophobic" are not silencing techniques, because they do in fact address the conversation/topic of discussion, when the person saying this can point out how the prior remark is racist, etc.  However, "You're a racist/sexist/homophobe" is a silencing technique because it's about the person making the remark rather than the remark itself.

Spiritual Abuse Awareness Week: My Contribution

This coming week Wine and Marble, Joy in this Journey and Shaney Irene will be hosting a Spiritual Abuse Awareness synchroblog.  Many bloggers will be posting one blog a day for several days, describing their own experiences of spiritual abuse, how it has affected them, and what they wish they could tell others.  I am a once-a-week blogger, so I've decided to just do one post in which I give shorter answers to each of the three sets of questions to be addressed. 

As I shared in my post Don't Talk About It:

In Ephesians 5:1-13 Paul . . . says in verse 11-13:

"And do not participate in the unfruitful deeds of darkness, but instead even expose them. For it is disgraceful even to speak of the things which are done by them in secret. But all things become visible when they are exposed by the light, for everything that is visible is light." . . . 

[I]n the light is where the enabling stops. In the light is where the perpetrator must face himself and his deeds. In the light is where the victim can see that the shame is not hers to bear. . .

[So] do talk about it. Stop sweeping it under the carpet. The stories must be told.

I'm happy that so many people are being encouraged to tell their stories.  And I'm going to tell a little more of mine.  So here are the questions set forth on the synchroblog, followed by my answers. 

What is your story? Share your experience — showing the details without going into specifics about places or people involved. What made the environment spiritually abusive? Was it language, unspoken social codes, beliefs, assumptions, expectations? How did these factors enable the abuse? How did you eventually leave, and why?

When I started college in the early 1980s, it was in a new state and a new town.  I had lived all my life till then in a little town in Colorado, but my parents and I moved to Oregon for my father to start a  new job there, and I moved into the dorms in a town about an hour's drive away from them.  For the first time in my life I was completely alone.  I remember the loneliness I felt as I walked for the first time into the dorm dining room to see not one face I recognized.

I had been a Christian for a couple of years and quickly began looking for a church.  The one I found was a campus ministry that had established churches in college towns all over the United States.  The people there welcomed me with so much warmth and enthusiasm that I immediately felt at home there.  I know they were sincere-- but what I didn't know was that they had been taught to treat newcomers this way; it was a technique I later learned is called "love bombing"-- but the rank-and-file members of the group, I still believe, were as ignorant as I was that this was a cult recruitment technique and were simply doing as they were told out of a sincere desire to follow Christ.  In any event, my loneliness made me especially vulnerable, and I soon joined.

It was only after I was committed to the group that the coercion and control began.  We were required to attend each and every meeting of the church, including long weeks of outreach meetings where services were held every evening.  Many students' school work suffered; I managed to keep my grades up by having no activities whatsoever outside of classes and church.  We had to have the church leaders' permission to go home to visit our families, and permission was not given during outreach weeks.  We were also required to go out before meetings and pass out flyers on the sidewalks to draw people into the services.  In fact, we had to get permission for anything outside church, school and jobs; I remember being forbidden to go see a free showing of the Disney movie Fantasia, because it was "demonic."  The Star Wars series was also forbidden;  I had seen Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back before I joined the church, but it would be years before I got to find out how the series ended with Return of the Jedi!

The church leaders never actually said, "We forbid you to go to these movies."  It was subtler than that. "I believe seeing this movie would be bad for your spiritual health and your walk with Christ, and He has given me watch over your soul according to Hebrews 13:17, which also tells you to submit to my authority."  That was the message.  Anyone who disobeyed an elder was privately rebuked, and sometimes became subject to a session of "casting out of demons" where all the elders gathered to pray for hours over the disobedient one and cast out the "spirit of rebellion" and (if she was female) the "Jezebel spirit."

If you persisted in going against the leadership, you would be publicly rebuked in front of the entire congregation, which would be called to a special meeting for this purpose.  If this didn't bring you back in line, excommunication resulted.  People who were excommunicated, or who left on their own, were considered either apostate or covenant-breakers, and remaining members were expected to ostracize them under threat of excommunication themselves.

Control was enabled through a hierarchy called "shepherding," where longer-term members were appointed as "disciplers" of younger members.  Disciplers and disciples were expected to meet together at least once a week, when the disciple's life that week would be reviewed in excruciating detail, followed by prayer and Bible study.  Most of us who eventually became disciplers ourselves were at least a little embarrassed by this and never did as detailed a job as was actually expected; I know that I didn't.  But I tried to do what was expected of me, and I remember being confused at the feelings of hidden resentment and avoidance I received from some of my disciples, a few of whom later left and were considered my failures.

These are just examples of many controlling techniques used by the leadership hierarchy to keep members in line.  I have shared about some of the others in posts like this one  and this.

The story of my group is unusual because eventually the campus ministry organization voluntarily dissolved.  Many of the pastors of individual churches banded together and forced the resignation of the founders and the dissolution of the ministry in 1989.  Local churches like the one I (and now my husband) still attended were left to either dissolve or become independent, non-denominational congregations.  My local church did the latter, and my husband and I continued to attend there until 1999, when we left because of fears that a new central organization was arising to bring the former member-churches back under its sway.  Our local church was no longer controlling, however, and we left amicably and with the respect of the then-leadership.

As far as I know, the central organization that did reorganize the remaining churches is not controlling or cultic in nature (friends who remain in the church seem happy and healthy), but once we joined a new church (chosen above all for its openness and the humble, non-controlling stance of the leadership), we were happy not to return, for reasons set forth in my answers to this next set of questions:

How has your experience affected you? What has it done to you emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually, etc.? What has your journey been like? How have you gotten where you are today? Do you feel you’ve healed? What do you still struggle with?

I suffered less than many who leave cultic groups because of the voluntary disbanding of the group.  I was never a victim of excommunication, and I was never shunned by friends who stayed.  Still, I find I have a kind of shuddering disgust at the mere thought of certain common church activities like church conferences (mandatory regional and national conferences were another method of group control that I'll share about in more detail someday) or prayer meetings.  Even the thought of attending events like this triggers old feelings of distress, resentment and helplessness.  To this day certain words such as "total commitment" or "sold out for Christ" give me soul-deep, knee-jerk reactions of nausea and repulsion.  I have no desire to return to the old church because of these memories and the possible reactions that returning would trigger, even though I don't believe my former church is spiritually abusive today.

The turning point of my journey was when I decided (I think it was around 1995) to take everything I had been taught to believe by the old group, lay it on the table, and jettison whatever didn't line up with my experience of God's love, my understanding of the Bible, and/or simple factual knowledge and reasoning.  This journey continues to this day, as I continue to explore and learn more in each of these three areas and to allow new understanding to change my thinking.  I've found, though (especially on the Internet), that even questioning certain evangelical/fundamentalist doctrines now puts me on the outside of what many who seem to consider themselves gatekeepers believe to be acceptable Christian belief-- and this is true even though I continue to hold to the Nicene Creed and other longstanding definitions of orthodoxy.

I don't believe the question "Do you feel you've healed?" can be answered with a simple yes or no.  Healing is a process that I've come a long way in, but I probably will never be completely "over it" once and for all.  Nor do I feel I should seek to be.  The Resurrected Christ still keeps the wounds in His hands and side, which tells me that our wounds are part of who we are and remain valuable to God.  As long as my old, continually healing wounds keep me sensitive to the sufferings of others, and help me hold my current doctrines and beliefs lightly and with humility and willingness to be persuaded to change should I find them harmful to myself or others, then these scars are worth keeping.

Why should those who haven’t been hurt care about this issue? What do you wish you could tell those who want to help but weren’t close enough to know or see your situation? What do you wish every pastor knew before starting ministry? What would make the church a safe space for you?

The shepherding/discipleship movement didn't die when my group disbanded.  Although the term "shepherding" is no longer used, and though some of the original founders of the movement have renounced these spiritually abusive teachings, they are still alive and well today, most notably in Sovereign Grace Ministries, which is currently involved in a class-action lawsuit alleging abuses directly related to shepherding-style hierarchical control.

Involvement in spiritually abusive religion can happen to anyone.  I would say to most evangelical Christians that at least one person they know probably has been, or is now, under the influence of one of these groups.  Many evangelicals and their pastors are involved in, or being strongly influenced by, current incarnations of spiritually abusive religion.  If you do know or suspect that a friend or loved one is in one of these movements, the best thing to do is stay in their lives.  Don't let them drive you away, but-- and this is equally important-- don't confront them directly.  Instead, ask them gentle, non-confrontational questions about what they share with you.  "Do you think this is the way Jesus taught His disciples to act as leaders?" or "Is this how brothers and sisters in Christ should treat one another?" could be good questions, but if they respond defensively, back off.  If you can just start them thinking, without thinking of you as an enemy who is trying to make them break their "covenant" with their church or its leaders, you may be able to be there for them if they do decide they want out.

Church is a safe place when questioning is welcomed and dissent is allowed, where leaders don't seek or allow themselves to be treated as stars or celebrities, and where each person's walk with Christ is considered to be his or her own business.  I wish and hope pastors starting ministries are being alerted to the catchwords and pet teachings of spiritually abusive movements, and I think classes on the warning signs of spiritual abuse should be taught in Bible schools and seminaries.  Pastors especially should be aware that some of the most well-known and vocal religious leaders today are influenced by and/or propagating spiritually abusive doctrines and practices, and to carefully weigh and test everything, holding tightly only to what is good, just as Paul advises in 1 Thessalonians 5:21.

It is for freedom that Christ set us free.  As Christians, we should be combating spiritual slavery, not living under it or promoting it.  We have the opportunity of being Abolitionists, denouncing spiritual slave-holding wherever we find it.  Many of us may also have the chance to be a spiritual underground railroad for those seeking to escape.

If I and the other bloggers this coming week can influence others to become spiritual Abolitionists, it will help bring a sense of meaning and resolution to all we went through.  I for one am grateful to the synchroblog organizers for this opportunity. 

Does Patriarchy Glorify God?

Note:  This post was originally written for No Longer Quivering, which is a website dedicated to helping women who have been harmed by the patriarchy/Quiverfull movement.   The issues discussed here may not apply to complementarianism, which generally differs from the Christian patriarchy movement in the amount of emphasis it puts on men's responsibility to treat their wives with Christlike humility and service.  In question-and-answer format, this discusses why the stated goal of the patriarchy/Quiverfull movement-- to glorify God in portraying His plan and design for marriage and family-- so frequently fails in practice.  

But this essay also deals with the potential for spiritual abuse in any family where enabling and formulaic thinking are practiced.  The piece is addressed to women who might question or consider leaving Quiverfull, but I thought it might be of interest to readers here as well.    

Q: As a Quiverfull couple, we practice headship and submission to strengthen our marriage and bring glory to God. But you are saying that patriarchy hurts the husband and belittles God. Please explain.

What does “glorify” mean when we’re talking about God? A simple definition can be found in what we commonly mean when we say a person is “seeking glory.” It means that person wants the credit for good things that have happened, and to be honored for those things. To glorify God is to seek glory not for ourselves, but for God– to act in ways that point to God, that give God the credit for good things in our lives and the honor that comes from that.

God receives glory when there are good things in our moral character that give Him credit. Jesus said, “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” John 13:35. 1 Peter 2:12 says, “Having your conversation honest among the Gentiles, that, whereas they speak against you as evildoers, they may by your good works which they shall behold, glorify God in the day of visitation.”

Ways of life that glorify God should result in honor and credit to Him, both in our lives with others, and in our relationship with Him.

When it comes to our lives with others, it seems clear that if the Bible really teaches and promotes patriarchy– rather than patriarchy simply being an assumption of the cultures of Bible times, reflected but not promoted in the Bible– then following patriarchal roles of male authority and female submission ought to result in the growth of love and moral character in the lives of men and women and in their relationships to one another. And a patriarchal marriage relationship ought to be the prime place where this takes place.

But is it?

Here is No Longer Quivering founder Vyckie Garrison's testimony about what happened in her patriarchal marriage:

Looking back, I can plainly see that the “assistance” which I rendered to Warren as his “suitable helper” served only to reinforce in his mind the idea of his superior– and divinely sanctioned– importance. My daily submission to his every demand– no matter how petty or self-serving– was about as helpful as giving in to a tantrum-throwing, breath-holding toddler– it’s a very effective way to create a tyrant. That’s unfortunate– because in many ways, Warren is a nice enough guy. I believe that patriarchy legitimized his weakest tendencies and the strict gender-roles which we followed arrested his ability to adapt and capitalize on his strengths. In the end, our pursuit of the perfect, godly family with Warren as “head” and me as “helper” resulted in . . . an extremely unhealthy and seriously dysfunctional way of relating.

Why did this happen? Was Vyckie’s marriage just an anomaly? Or is it that patriarchy itself really isn’t good for the growth of moral character and good works in fallible human beings?

Hebrews 10:24 says, “And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and good works.” And Ephesians 4:15 says, “Speaking the truth in love, (we) may grow up into him in all things, which is the head, even Christ.” Wives and husbands are both part of Christ’s church, and as such are not exempt from these exhortations to the whole church, regarding how to relate to one another in ways that glorify God.

But Christians often misunderstand 1 Peter 3:1 (which is a passage meant to be read as a continuation of 1 Peter 2:12-13– that Christians should submit themselves to every human institution in order to be good witnesses to the culture they found themselves in — in this case, the ancient pagan cultures of Greece and Rome), thinking it is referring to Christian marriages instead of to women married to non-believing Greek or Roman husbands who “obey not the word.” That passage was never intended as a command to Christian women to let their Christian husbands get away with any and all selfish and ungodly conduct “without a word”! In fact, in light of Galatians 3:14 (“For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself”), Peter’s words should be read not as laws or commands, but as advice on how to live out the law of love. “Without a word” was helpful for believing women when their non-believing husbands really didn’t want to hear any more about this new religion. But how is it helpful in a Christian marriage? Does it not contradict Hebrews 10:24 and Ephesians 4:15?

Wives and husbands are equally followers of Christ. Ephesians 5:21 says that all Christians are to be “submitting yourselves to one another in the fear of God.” Ephesians 5:22-32 goes on from there, comparing the relationship of husbands and wives to that of Christ and the church. But this does not mean husbands are “as Christ” to their wives– this takes the analogy way too far and turns husbands into idols in the home, and wives into idolaters. Wives are not “as the church” to their husbands, are they? Husbands are not the saviors of their wives, as Christ is of the church– and wives are not to make husbands their gods, as the church does Christ. Wives, as equal followers of Christ with their husbands, are to “speak the truth in love” to their husbands and to “provoke them to love and good deeds.”

Giving husbands unilateral authority in the home does not help their Christian character of humility and forbearance. Instead, it feeds husbands’ normal, fleshly human nature with power and privilege that may be beyond their ability to handle. Vyckie again:

Though at first glance the hierarchical family structure. . . may appear to be an inviting setup for the men– the day to day reality, and the long-term effect of being indiscriminately catered to– the perpetual indulgence of power and control– turns out not to be such a sweet deal for Daddy after all.

The fact is that though Ephesians 5 and similar passages exhort husbands to self-sacrificially “love their wives,” the indulgence of their “headship” (a term never found in the New Testament– the head-body metaphor in the original Greek does not convey authority-subordination as it does in English) gives them no incentive to do so. There are indeed Christian patriarchal-type marriages where the man doeshumble himself and lay down his own desires on a daily basis for the wife, as the Bible says he should– but this example of Christian character usually displays itself if there is strong outside pressure (such as from other church members) to do so, or if it was character the husband already had. Within the patriarchal marriage structure on its own, wifely indulgence of his husbandly whims in the name of “submission” won’t teach him character. Nor will he feel any obligation to listen to her if he believes he is entitled to always have his own way. Power corrupts, and absolute power in the home can corrupt absolutely.

Wives, self-sacrificially giving in to your husbands in ways that exalt them in power and control over you, does not help your husbands! At best, it acts as a temptation they must resist, in order to continue in the humility they know they should walk in as Christians. And at worst, it inflates their pride, feeds their selfishness, and gives them no incentive to walk in love towards you.

And then there is the vital question of our relationship with God. If patriarchy glorifies God, then living in patriarchal roles ought to increase our love relationship with God and our dependence on His grace and mercy.

Does it?

Teachers of patriarchal roles often set forth patriarchy as “God’s way,” the one right way to live in marriage. Vyckie remembers,

I had to be such a devout, godly woman that my husband couldn’t find any fault in me . . . All I had to do was be the perfect wife and the perfect Christian and God would honor that and save my marriage. [And] when I did it, God would have no choice but to come through for me. . . Everything I did in that respect during that time was my attempt to attach strings of obligation to God so that I could make Him dance like Pinocchio at my bidding. I was the ultimate manipulator– I no longer needed to control Warren directly, because I could influence God to do that work for me.

Another No Longer Quivering woman (who wished to remain anonymous) tried hard to make a patriarchal marriage work. Here is what she says she learned:

If they say, do _____, and your husband will be transformed, spare yourself some agony and don’t waste your time. . . . Because life and relationships and communities aren’t appropriate grounds for formulas. . . . It’s tempting [to follow formulas], because it takes away the fear factor. It takes away the “What if?“ It takes away the realization that, ultimately, we don’t have a lot of control over other people and their choices. . . .

The land of formulas [is] the land where you can rest assured that everything will go as you want it. . . if only you perform properly (or try to make other people perform properly). Even though it puts all the work back on your own shoulders . . . it still gives a sense of peace, a sense of control– and therein lies the seductive lure. . . We/I can keep you safe. We/I can keep things under control. We/I know what we’re doing. We’ve/I’ve got an answer. We’ve/I’ve got the Right Way to Do It, guaranteed to keep you secure and free of pain. [But] the formula plan is a lie. It is a beautiful sweet juicy. . .lie.

The problem with patriarchal roles is that they set out formulaic boxes within which Christians are to perform. All husbands are to always act one particular way, and all wives are to always act another. The individual dynamics of interpersonal relationships can be lost as we fit ourselves into cookie-cutter lifestyles and live within strict boxes. And this also puts God in a box– a box where God is expected to perform in a certain way based on our own performance. Our relationship with God becomes a thing of duty– our duty and performance of the formula for Him, and His duty and performance of the blessing in response.

Except that God doesn’t fit very well into boxes. And when our expectations of what should happen in our lives falls short of what we feel He has promised– then we fall back on Scriptures such as “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him (Job 13:15).” We don’t understand why God isn’t coming through for us, but we hold onto the hope that if we just keep performing, then He eventually will.

The problem is that our once simple love for God, our once peaceful rest in God’s grace, has turned into a matter of works. In Galatians 3:1-3, Paul asks of a church that has fallen into just such a mentality, “O foolish Galatians. . . This only would I learn of you. Received ye the Spirit by the works of the law, or by the hearing of faith? Are ye so foolish? Having begun in the Spirit, are ye now made perfect by the flesh?”

Jesus said in Matthew 11:28-29, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

If you are finding very little rest for your soul– if your yoke feels heavy and hard– it is probably not a yoke that comes from Jesus. And it doesn’t glorify God for you to carry it. It doesn’t help you or your spouse grow in love and Christian character. It doesn’t increase the grace of God in your life, or your dependence on His mercy rather than your performance. And it’s not something that God can bless.

Patriarchy, its roles and rules, does not glorify God. Isn’t it time to turn away from it and seek God to guide your own individual life and your own individual marriage, not according to formulas, but as He sees fit?

Why Do People "Drink the Koolaid"?

Over at No Longer Quivering they have been talking about why people-- and particularly why women-- get involved with repressive, spiritually abusive, authoritarian religion.  Why is it, for instance, that so many women are drawn into-- and drag their sometimes reluctant husbands into-- the anti-feminist "back to patriarchy" movement?

The No Longer Quivering blog post asks it this way:

Are they “drinking the Kool-Aid”? Brainwashed? Deceived? Have Quiverfull women been beaten into submission or bullied by fanatical, power-hungry male pastors? To outsiders, fundamentalist women often seem ignorant, ill-informed, illogical – perhaps even dim-witted or crazy.

Sure committed Christian women are choosing for themselves to live submissively and self-sacrificially – they are living martyrs willingly. But why?!

While I was never in Quiverfull, I did get into the shepherding/dominion movement back in my college years, as I have shared earlier on this blog.  No, I wasn't bullied into joining or "beaten into submission."  My initial choice was not made under duress at all, though later, the reasons I stayed certainly included fear of negative consequences (such as being disfellowshipped and having the friends I had made there become my enemies).  But my own reasons for getting into a spiritually abusive Christian movement were like this:

1. It was cool to be part of a group that welcomed me.  I had experienced a lot of rejection from my peers in the school system, and I desperately wanted to fit in somewhere.  The people in this group were so warm and friendly when I went to their meetings, that I could hardly resist the feeling of belonging they gave me.  (I later learned that this is called "love bombing", and I was taught myself to do it to newcomers that came after me, in order to get them to join the movement).

2.  I really wanted to feel I was part of something bigger than myself, a movement that could actually do some good in the world. The fact that the movement was against things in society that had hurt me in the past (such as bullying, ostracism and sexual harassment in my neighborhood and in the public schools, all of which was now labeled “the world”) was its own justification.  Whatever else it was doing, Maranatha Campus Ministries really was sincerely fighting against these damaging elements in the lives of young people, and offering a kind of Christian community that certainly seemed to be a better alternative.

3. The life of "total commitment" was set forth as God’s perfect plan, and if you embraced it, your life would be much better.  God's blessings in the form of health and prosperity were supposed to rain down on those who did His perfect will as described by the group leaders.  God's perfect choice for your marriage partner was supposed to be the result of following the "dating revelation" and having your pastors pray over who you should marry-- and your marriage would be guaranteed to be happy forever after, without danger of divorce.  The uncertainties of life could be replaced by certainty.  The troubles that "worldly" people or Christians with weak faith faced, could be avoided.   Prayer and the Christian life became sort of like a vending machine-- push the right buttons, and the candy you wanted was sure to pop out.

4.   We were told that these teachings and life choices were God's will for our lives, and everyone who really wanted to please God would naturally embrace these ideas. I really did want to please God and follow God’s plan.  I wanted to be one of "God's Green Berets" -- a special spiritual force of His favored soldiers, fighting the devil and setting lost souls free.  I didn't want to be one of the "lukewarm" who never put it all on the line, who never made the grade, who made it into Heaven but just barely, with the smoke of Hell still on their clothes.

5. Having grown up in a dysfunctional home, I thought controlling, authoritarian relationships were normal.  It was what I knew.  As a young college student just out of that home, I felt uncomfortable not having someone to tell me what to do. Being under “a covering of authority” felt safe and secure.

So those were my reasons.  But as far as women and back-to-patriarchy is concerned, I think there's another dynamic to it, aimed specifically at women.  The guaranteed wonderful life (as I described in #3 above) takes a particularly domestic form.  Modern life can be very high-pressure for women, who feel they should try to "have it all" in terms of career, marriage, motherhood, and material goods such as a beautiful home, nice cars and clothes, including being plugged into all the latest technologies and gadgets.   Quiverfull and the patriarchy movement offer a utopian fantasy of domestic tranquility, away from the rat-race of the business world and the traps of materialism, filled with peaceful living, a happy husband, obedient children, and all the time in the world to practice the beautiful arts of homemaking.  No Longer Quivering blogger Broken Daughters describes it very well in her post, The Polished Lives of Others:

I’d have a pantry filled with homemade juices and marmalade and sauces and relishes. I’d have a beautiful, antique and yet modern kitchen. I’d have a great view from my kitchen windows, and I’d wear a beautiful apron. I’d be… hm. One of those fairytale housewives, I guess.

My life would be quiet, relaxed. I’d be busy decorating a beautiful home, not really worrying about money and how to get by. My husband would be thrilled to see my newest crafty decoration idea and I’d have people come over for tea, who would praise my exquisite taste and the heavenly homemade biscuits. . . .

And yes, my kids. How well-behaved they were, and how clean and neat and obedient and whatnot. How tidy their rooms were, how tidy the house was, how lush the gardens! Yes, I was truly the Proverbs 31 woman.

At the end of the day, my tall dark and handsome husband, who made assloads of money doing something real godly, would put his hands on my shoulders and gently kiss my neck and whisper that I was truly the wife of his dreams and no other even came close to me.

Yes, I would enjoy those moments that made me feel so superior to everybody else.

An idyllic vision of life in which you beat everyone else at the competitive game of "who is happiest" and "who has it all together."  And it all happens because of God, who stamped the movement with His endorsement and, even if He doesn't actually love you more than everybody else, at least approves of you more than anyone not in the movement.  That was what Maranatha Campus Ministries offered.  That is what Quiverfull and Biblical Patriarchy offer.

In the end, (as Paul Burleson says so well in a comment on Wade Burleson's blog), it's all about basic human needs:  to be loved, to feel secure, to feel you belong, to feel special.  Spiritually abusive, authoritarian religious groups offer their movements as the surest way to get these needs met.  Ordinary, non-authoritarian Christianity is set forth as an inferior, flawed system that won't meet your needs the way we can.  Ordinary Christianity is only just slightly better than "the world."  But we can offer you the peace, fulfillment and happiness you really want-- if you just do things our way, which is God's way.   Get in on the secret.  Join us.  We guarantee the results-- as long as you're doing everything exactly as we tell you.

It's a heady mix, that Koolaid.  Hard not to drink it, especially if you're in any sort of emotionally vulnerable state, such as alone in a new place, or going through a difficult life transition. The best defense is to learn in advance what the Koolaid looks and smells like.

That's why I'm writing this.  If I can play a part in forewarning-and-forearming anyone being tempted to drink, or if I can help anyone who did drink to forgive themselves, then I become part of the antidote.

And that makes it all worth it.  

My Wish-I-Hadn'ts

I have, over the course of years that I've been a Christian, changed the way I think about a large number of things.  Some of the beliefs I used to hold caused me to treat people (or even myself) in ways that I'm sure now were not what Jesus wanted.  Though I'm sure I have His grace and forgiveness for these things, that doesn't change the harm I now believe I did.  So here are some of my regrets.  Some of them, as I look back, make me laugh or shake my head; others make me very sad.  If anyone who reads this was affected by any of these things, I hope you already know how truly sorry I am. 

So here, in no particular order, are my Wish-I-Hadn'ts:

I wish I hadn't kept bothering my Catholic co-worker with invitations to my church's events, even though she had told me she had her own faith.  I thought I was trying to get her away from a false religion.  She thought I was just plain annoying.

I wish I hadn't had my pastor preach a how-to-get-saved sermon at my wedding, to the captive audience of relatives and friends who had only come to see me get married.

I wish I hadn't told my non-Christian co-worker that all men liked to be the leaders in relationships, and it took a strong woman to let them.  She didn't say anything, just gave me a funny look.

I wish I hadn't told a good friend who was engaged to be married, that she shouldn't marry the man because he'd been divorced.  We were never good friends again after that.

I wish I hadn't made friends with a girl in college for no other reason than that I wanted to convert her.  I'm glad she never found out.  (She also never converted.)

I wish I hadn't bought into the idea that any music with a rock beat-- even Christian rock-- was of the devil.  I wish I hadn't thrown away my Neil Diamond records, my Simon and Garfunkel , and even my Imperials gospel albums.

I wish I hadn't participated with the rest of the Christian audience at a creation vs. evolution debate, in jeering, booing and hissing the evolutionary scientist, so that he went away knowing Christian audiences had no kindness, no manners and no willingness to listen to points of view other than their own.

I wish I hadn't listened to my pastor when he told me it could damage me spiritually to go see The Return of the Jedi-- so that I didn't find out until years after the final movie appeared in the theatres, how the Star War series ended.

I wish I hadn't given my dad the book Evidence that Demands a Verdict for his birthday, instead of giving him a present he would have really enjoyed.

I wish I hadn't written my Christian friend who came out as gay, a letter that he never forgave me for-- a letter so judgmental and so ignorant of what he was going through, that we never spoke again.

I wish I hadn't rejected a nice shirt my mom gave me as a gift, because the picture on it looked a little "New Age" to me.   I wish I hadn't conveyed my judgment against this shirt and my lack of gratitude to my poor mom so very plainly.

I wish I hadn't treated Christians who went to other churches-- including my own sister!-- as if they just weren't as spiritual or enlightened as we were.

I wish I hadn't been so conscientious in my duties towards younger members of my church that I was supposed to be "discipling"-- but had just let them know that I'd be there for them if they needed anything, and otherwise had just let them live their lives without my oversight or interference.

I wish I hadn't joined the others in my church in shunning those who decided to leave.



So there it is.

I don't think I'm the only one who has regrets like this-- in fact, certain segments of Christianity still strongly encourage their members to act just like I acted.  So I have to ask the question-- if a form of Christianity actually leads people like me to do unloving, inconsiderate, Pharisee-like things that Jesus would not want us to do-- how well is that kind of Christianity actually following its Lord?

Perhaps we all ought to let that be our litmus test.

"Don't Talk About It"

I was in college, living in an ex-fraternity house made over into a Christian boarding house for members of Maranatha Campus Ministries.  It was 1983 or 84.

The leaders of Maranatha, Bob Weiner and Joe Smith, had come up with another new revelation that they said was from God.  They took their text from John 15:8:

"By this is My Father glorified, that you bear much fruit, and so prove to be My disciples."

Bob Weiner and Joe Smith said that by "bearing fruit," Jesus meant "making converts."  This meant, they said, that the more converts to Christ you made, the more you had "proved to be His disciple."  Therefore, those of us who had never made a convert were not really disciples of Christ.  Oh, we were saved all right, and we would go to heaven when we died, but were were all a sort of lesser follower of Jesus.  Not bearing fruit.  Not proving ourselves.  Not quite measuring up.

I and some of my friends were very upset when we heard this new teaching.  We were accustomed to taking every word uttered by Bob or Joe as the very truth of God.  They had taught us "total commitment" to Jesus, to our leaders, and to our brothers and sisters in the church.  To follow Jesus as He wanted, we must follow Him with our whole hearts, not being "lukewarm" like so many who claimed to be Christians were.

I had embraced total commitment and believed I was following with my whole heart.  But suddenly now, even that wasn't quite good enough.

I began to search the Scriptures.  Could the passage really mean what they said it did?  On the other hand, should I be questioning my leaders?  Feeling a little guilty, but also remembering that they had also taught us to read the Bible for ourselves, I looked at every passage where "fruit" was mentioned in the New Testament.  It didn't seem to bear out what they were saying.  Somewhat relieved (maybe I was a real disciple after all!), I determined to wait for Joe Smith's upcoming visit to our fellowship.  Surely if I put my questions before him, he would see where I was coming from and maybe even get back together with Bob Weiner to discuss it again.

A few weeks later, Joe Smith arrived.  We  had spent the time before his arrival scrubbing the ex-frat house from top to bottom, preparing and handing out flyers for the meetings, and praying, praying, praying for lots of new people to come, be converted, and become members of Maranatha.  Since I was also carrying a full course load of college credits and trying to keep up with my regular household chores, I hadn't had much time to think about what I would say to Joe Smith after the meeting.

I don't remember what he preached about.   But afterwards, when other church members were clustering around the great man praising him for the sermon and receiving his blessings, I approached him, shaking inside, and asked if we could speak in private for a moment.  With a kind, fatherly look, he agreed and we stepped apart a little from the meeting room, out into the foyer.

Nervously I asked him about the new revelation, about what "bearing fruit" meant.  I told him that when I had looked it up in the New Testament, in all other passages where "fruit" was mentioned in terms of "bearing" it, it seemed to be talking character traits-- about the fruits of the Holy Spirit from Galatians 5:22-23, like love, joy, peace, patience, etc.  I told him that in every other passage where "fruit" was mentioned in terms of converts to Christ, it was spoken of in terms of "gathering," not "bearing."  I also asked if he thought "proving" to be a disciple really meant "proving to Jesus' satisfaction that you were a disciple" and not "proving to the world to be Jesus' disciple."

Joe Smith let me babble on for a few minutes.  The look of kind, fatherly attention never left his face. Then, in just a few words, he let me know that I was wrong.  "I discern that you are not letting Jesus' words into your heart," he said.  "You are not responding to His words-- you are only reacting.   You need to stop, listen to the truth of what we're teaching, and let it go deep inside you.  Do you understand?"

Speechlessly I nodded.  Joe Smith was telling me that not only was I wrong about what I thought the Bible said, but that I needed to stop fighting the truth that I was not a full, true disciple of Jesus.  I needed to let this truth sink deep inside me.  I felt myself letting it do so.  And as I did, I began to weep uncontrollably.

Joe Smith smiled.  "That's it.  Let the Spirit of God touch you."

How could I tell him that I was weeping not because I felt the Spirit of God touching me, not because the truth was sinking in and changing me, but because I now believed I was a second-class follower of Jesus, a person Christ was not really satisfied with?  That all my efforts to follow Him with my whole heart were in vain unless I could make a convert?  That since I could never seem to speak the right words to make someone else want to follow Jesus, I probably never would be a real disciple?

My tears were tears of despair.

I couldn't tell him.  Blindly I turned and stumbled up the two flights of stairs to my own room in the Maranatha house.  I sank down onto the floor, and cried and cried.

After about 20 minutes of hard crying, I felt a stirring in my heart.  Then four short words out of nowhere flooded into my mind, along with a deep warmth that filled my heart to the brim.  "Daughter.  He is wrong."

A wordless conviction filled me with assurance that I knew was not from myself.  Jesus did absolutely consider me His disciple.  He was fully satisfied with me.  Joe Smith and Bob Weiner could be wrong.  They were wrong.

My tears vanished, and joy welled up inside me as I wiped my face and blew my nose.  I got up from the floor and went downstairs to help serve food.  As I ran down the steps, the deep assurance filled me again.  Joe Smith was wrong, and God had spoken to me.  I was Christ's disciple no matter what any human being said.  Even if they called themselves prophets.

But I told no one.

Not even my friends, who I knew were also upset by the new teaching.  Not my pastor, or pastor's wife.  Certainly not Joe Smith!  A leader was never to be spoken against, in public or in private.  To speak out would be to rebel against his God-given authority and to shame myself by showing a rebellious heart.

So I held my joy inside me, drinking of the certainty that my leaders could be wrong, in the privacy of my own heart.  I never felt the same way about them again.  I continued to read the Bible for myself, and if something they said didn't make sense to me, I no longer felt obligated to believe it.

I guess for me, it was the beginning of the end of Maranatha Campus Ministries.  Years later, the group would dissolve under protests from some of the pastors of individual churches that the upper leadership was too authoritarian.  But my own freedom began that night, and as I rested in the vine (as the actual context of Jesus' words about "bearing fruit" in John 15:8 said to do), I did indeed bear fruit.  Fruit of strength in my own heart instead of dependence on others.  Fruit of confidence in my relationship with Christ.  Fruit of compassion for others who were being made miserable by destructive teachings.

And fruit of understanding-- first-hand understanding-- of what "spiritual abuse" meant.

Joe Smith was right and I was wrong, because Joe Smith was big and I was small.  Because Joe Smith was a leader and I was an underling.  Because Joe Smith was an authority, and I was a nobody.

No words against Joe Smith were ever to be spoken.  If I spoke them, it was I-- not Joe-- who was in the wrong.  Joe Smith could never be in the wrong, because he was in authority.  

Spiritual abuse.

This last week, a prominent Christian leader was forced to resign amid allegations that he was having a sexual relationship with a 17-year-old girl, a prior victim of sexual abuse, who had come to him for pastoral care.  Some blog sites devoted to exposing and helping victims of spiritual abuse have posted stories about it.  And some of the comments on these sites have taken a page right out of Maranatha Campus Ministries' old book.

How dare you post something like this about a man of God?  Who do you think you are?  

This girl consented, didn't she?  And anyway, no sin is worse than any other sin in God's eyes.  We need to show mercy to this pastor.  After all, "love covers a multitude of sins."  [The fact that Jesus placed greater emphasis upon offending "one of these little ones" than on any other sin, is not taken into account. Matt. 18:6]

This pastor is a godly man!  Don't contribute to the rumors! We shouldn't be judging him, we should be praying for him and his family! [No mention is made of possibly praying for the 17-year-old girl and her family.]

You don't know what you're talking about.  God will be angry with you for bearing false witness. 

This is an internal matter for the church involved.  Stay out of it.  You are casting stones at a man of God.  You should just be quiet. 

Counselors for adult children of alcoholics will say that one of the features of a dysfunctional, codependent family is the "don't talk about it" message.

Be quiet.  This is family business and no one else's.  How dare you talk like that about your father? 

Keep the secret.  Sweep it under the carpet.  No one must see.  No one must know.

But it isn't only families that can be dysfunctional.  Churches can be, too.  And when they are, they will tell their members this same thing.  The result is what's called "enabling:"

An enabler is a person who by their actions make it easier for an addict to continue their self-destructive behavior.


It is possible to become addicted to authority.  A person who is so addicted will uphold his or her authority at all costs, even at the expense of those whom their position of authority was created to serve.   And the person who is addicted will encourage his or her followers in enabling behaviors, to make it easier to hold onto his or her authority.  When religion, God or the Bible are used to encourage enabling, in ways that bring shame, harm or misery to the enablers, this is spiritual abuse.

I agree that this pastor needs help-- but not at the expense of his victim.  And "don't talk about it" will help neither of them.  It will only perpetuate the girl's shame and misery, and enable the pastor to continue in his abusive, dysfunctional behaviors.   In Ephesians 5:1-13 Paul talks about relating to other professing Christians who commit heinous sins.  He says in verse 11-13:

"And do not participate in the unfruitful deeds of darkness, but instead even expose them.  For it is disgraceful even to speak of the things which are done by them in secret.  But all things become visible when they are exposed by the light, for everything that is visible is light."

Paul is not saying, "The person who did the deed is a Christian, and therefore we need to keep this quiet."  He is not saying, "The deed is disgraceful, therefore you will be disgraced if you speak of it."  He is saying, "The disgraceful deed must be exposed in all its disgrace, precisely because it is so disgraceful even to speak about!"

Yes, it is disgraceful to speak of a pastor entering a sexual relationship with a vulnerable member of his flock whom he was supposed to be helping.  But it is not disgraceful to the person speaking.  It is disgraceful to the person doing the deed spoken of.   However it also brings the deed out into the light, which is the only place where healing can happen.  

I'm not saying it's ok to have a free-for-all of name-calling and abusive words about this pastor.  Two wrongs don't make a right.  But in the light is where the enabling stops.  In the light is where the perpetrator must face himself and his deeds.  In the light is where the victim can see that the shame is not hers to bear.

So to those who are saying, "Don't talk about it," I say this.

Do talk about it.  Stop sweeping it under the carpet.  The stories must be told.  Stop shaming those who tell them.  The person who is in the wrong is not above the rest of us.  He needs the light just as much as anyone.

"For the fruit of the light consists in all goodness and righteousness and truth."  Eph. 5:9.