Religious Trauma

It started with a random meme passed around social media.  I don’t recall the exact quote, but it was poetic with a background reminiscent of a postcard from a National Park in the midwest.  It snagged my attention and so I looked up the source.  As it turned out, the quip was the muse of popular Christian author and therapist, K.J. Ramsey.  If you’re looking for depth, beauty, inspiration and a heavy dose of keeping it real, look her up on Instagram under username: kjramseywrites. 

I became enamored of her work— her photography and exquisite gift of weaving words into striking poetic verse— so much so that I purchased one of her books, The Book of Common Courage.  It was through those pages that I discovered something unfamiliar, at least, in an immediate sense. 

I was aware, albeit distantly, of the sex scandals that rocked the Catholic Church when they first became public sometime in the early 2000’s.  I pondered the significance of a religious authority acting in such a predatory and evil way toward children…and became confounded to learn how other clergy kept it secret.  Less aware, if even at all, are the abuses kept hidden in other faith based communities, some as close as my backyard.

As a Christian of nearly five decades, I, probably like many of you dear readers, have encountered others who’ve had a bad experience in church.  This might include anything from being shamed during worship, bickering over committee roles or even ostracized because of cultural or political background.  I’ve even had my own share of incidents that might be labeled a bad experience such as when my husband and I visited a church and no one spoke to us. Or the phyletism that emerged within the Orthodox Church after Oct. 7.  It was strange and uncomfortable —but a far cry from abuse.

K.J. Ramsey introduced me to a term she uses: religious trauma.  She defines it thus:

“The effect of the burden of stress on your body and nervous system when in religious systems and relationships that steal your safety and call it spiritual.”   She goes on to say, “Religious trauma can be the result of being spiritually abused —a dynamic in which anyone with perceived spiritual authority or power treats you as an object to be used and controlled rather than a person to be loved.”  -Instagram Post, March 25, 2023

I had not devoted a whole lot of time to considering what happens to people who are subjected to this type of abuse over the long term.  Previous encounters with folks who expressed a bad episode with other Christians led me to believe they were isolated incidents— remedied by either leaving the offending faith community or sometimes, leading to an inward reflection on their own sin and arrogance which brought about repentance.

Less than two weeks ago, Warren Smith at Ministry Watch, shared the story of two whistleblowers from Appalachian Bible College, located in Mt Hope, WV.  The professors claim they were terminated after filing a complaint with the Association for Biblical Higher Education (ABHE) citing “a pattern of behavior that is inconsistent with Christian integrity and professional teaching standards.”  The complaint is aimed at the very leadership of a Christian institution that has been part of the community in southern West Virginia for over 70 years.

The story has stunned many in the area and beyond, particularly those with direct ties to the school.  Most are shocked that the news is finally—at long last— being made public. I’ve become acquainted with the stories of dozens of former students and some faculty as well, who attest to a similar pattern of verbal and psychological abuse from one of the professors there.

It’s heartbreaking to know that repeated abusive behavior has been present on campus, some say, for decades.  When students would seek help, their pleas often fell on deaf ears, or they were told to look at the hardship as a way to practice humility and obedience to authority.  Some left the school, ...others left the Christian faith. It’s an unfolding story that has given me pause to consider again the responsibilities within faith based communities.  

It wasn’t that long ago that Christians around the globe witnessed the unraveling of Ravi Zacharias Ministries (RZIM), when, upon the death of it’s founder, many truths were unveiled.  Truths that were disturbing and painful..and left those he loved most with burdens almost too heavy to bear.  In the immediate weeks that followed, I recall the ministry team making public statements about their grief.  They knew transparency and accountability had been lacking for some time, but for all their efforts, Ravi Zacharias resisted.  It became the downfall of their ministry.

Isolation is the devil’s playground. Foul actions proliferate in dark, unexposed places and untold masses of people can be harmed by it.  It’s very easy for me to see those dark actions in places like the political arena or the wicked forces behind gender ideology.  It’s more of a challenge to see them within my own community, of those who claim Christ as their Savior.

Maybe it isn’t even in identifying the problem as much as accepting the reality and acting toward a solution.  It’s not comfortable calling out those within our own ranks. We’re bothered by so many trivial things, ensnared by satan at our vulnerable points.   We perform mental gymnastics by weighing our jobs, relationships or positions against doing what’s right in sight of the Lord.  We fear to disrupt the status quo because we might be wrong.  We often lack confidence and second guess ourselves, even though every internal signal points to ‘Stop! This is wrong!’  We fear man more than God.

God’s Word directs our steps without fail and yet we come up with excuses to stay an uncomfortable encounter and prevent the loss of a position or community.  We fear conflict and buy into the ‘don’t sow discord’ warning, misjudging complacency for peace. 

The seventh chapter of St. Matthew tells us that we can know other disciples of Christ by their good fruit.  And what is that?  According to the fifth chapter of Galatians, it includes love, joy, peace and long suffering… kindness, gentleness and self-control.  These are some of the qualities of those walking with the Lord.  Does that mean every Christian will exhibit all of these?  Of course not.  We are, all of us who love God, working out our salvation in fear and trembling while on this earth.  We are hopefully growing and maturing to become more like Jesus Christ every day. 

But here’s the thing— those who are seeking spiritual growth typically welcome constructive criticism—given in love— by someone highly esteemed in the Body of Christ.  Or at least, they should.  It was no small thing when a pastor once told me I had a problem with jealousy.  My pride initially reacted with indignation, but thankfully, the reality soon eclipsed the beast.  I knew what I needed to confess and seek repentance for.  We all have blind spots; it’s why we are connected in the Body of Christ, for iron to sharpen iron. (Proverbs 27:17)

There is no spiritual growth apart from humility and repentance.  I believe St. John Chrysostom, early church father of the 4th century said it best, when considering the aims of our spiritual life:

“There would be no need for sermons, if our lives were shining.  There would be no need for words if we bore witness with our deeds.  There would be no pagans, if we were true Christians.” 

Thank God His beautiful mercy endures forever. †