There are days I feel like a hypocrite. Yesterday was one of those days. I received a Caring Bridge link for someone whose young daughter is going through cancer treatment. Caring Bridge is a great site and way to keep large number of people up-to-date during crises. One of the features I really enjoy is the ability to go on and leave a message for the family. I appreciate this because frankly, I have the best of intentions for sending cards to people, but fail miserably in actually doing it. So yesterday, I found myself going on this Caring Bridge and leaving a message of support for this family. In it I shared my favorite pieces of comfort: when God feels the furthest, God’s not. It is during this time that God, through the Spirit, is holding your heart in precious embrace.
And as I wrote this I thought – HYPOCRITE.
You see, I’ve been going through this period where I have cut myself off from God. I have enough theology to know that God has not abandoned me, it is me that has shut my heart to God. Why have I distanced myself from God? Well there are many reasons. I have been betrayed by a number of clergy recently. I’ve lost my faith family. I’ve lost relationships with people who I thought were friends. The thread that runs through this whole experience has been this all happened with people who proclaim to be Christians. Last week was the tipping point for me. I got fed with the hypocrisy of church leaders, who say one thing and then do the complete opposite; who refuse to address issues but instead hide behind labels and positions. I shut myself off to God because of these people’s actions. Frankly, I’m surprised it’s taken this long for it to happen.
Then I wrote those words of comfort to this family dealing with extraordinary tragedy and it hit me – this is also what I needed to hear. I too needed to be reminded that I can’t feel God’s presence because God is holding my heart in precious embrace. With this realization, I found my heart softening to God a bit. I found myself reaching out in prayer for the first time in many weeks. I know the Spirit is at work, reminding me that I am not alone. God did not cause God’s servants to hurt me. This is their own free will, their own personal fears and insecurities that cause them to wound me and prevent them from reaching out to me as a fellow member of the Body of Christ. However, God still loves and cares for me and good will continue to come out of this experience. The Spirit also reminds me that they are also God’s precious creations, simultaneously saint and sinner, just like me.
How will this part of the journey end? I don’t know. What I do know is that parts of it will continue to test my personal strength, faith, and my ability to forgive others for what they have done to me. As I work to break through my protective walls, I hope that I can see them in the same way I want them to see me – as a precious child of God and a fellow member of the Body of Christ.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Confronting the Brutal Facts
Emotional abuse. Non-sexual clergy abuse. Psychological abuse. Spiritual abuse. Icky, icky words, yet it is happening within our churches. But what is even scarier is that church leadership is ignoring it. The results are people are leaving churches with their faith and trust shattered. How do you regain trust after being betrayed by ordained clergy? Aren’t these the people whom you are supposed to trust?
In my opinion, what is so insidious about non-sexual clergy abuse is the secondary wounding that occurs. With me, the clergy that emotionally abused me was popular and charismatic. He exuded warmth, caring, and empathy. In front of people, he would say wonderful things about you, but it was a different story behind closed doors. Without witnesses, the attacks were personal and manipulative. When someone knows your most intimate secrets and buttons, they have a lot of power. When they use that knowledge as a weapon against you, it is horrific. My sense of self was shattered like a glass dropped on a tile floor. Although I am gluing the pieces back together, I will never be the same. There will always be parts of me that will be weaker. The joints that have been glued back together will show like scars.
Like many denominations, mine has extensive rules and guidelines related to sexual misconduct. They even admit that this is not a widespread problem, yet have spent countless hours assuring that both they and congregation members are protected from this threat. On their website, their first statements are related to how the “victim” should be treated. According to them, care of the victim is paramount. Victims are afforded confidentiality, pastoral counseling to help them realize it was not their fault, and they are made aware of every step that will be taken prior to it being taken. It’s interesting that one of their statements says that in order to address this issue, victims need to have the courage to come forward.
While the denomination has detailed information related to sexual misconduct, emotional and spiritual (non-sexual misconduct) is nowhere to be found. The effects on the person are just as traumatic, although in a different way, yet the church refuses to address this much more prevalent threat to the life of the church. I had the courage to come forward with my story and found excuses, blaming the victim, and shunning. I have experienced betrayal and rules changed to fit inappropriate behavior instead. In addition, avoidance has been the name of the game. Through it all, I have been made to feel that I am overreacting. I’m too emotional and “time is needed to heal.” From my perspective, this is disrespectful and patronizing.
It’s easy for others to say, “Well, just find another church.” “It’s time to let this go.” I do see their point of view. It is easy to let my hurt, shame, need for justice or even just my simple need for acknowledgment of my experience to consume me. I know that people experience much worse things than I have. I know the church is full of hypocrites. I know the problem is their inability to confront the brutal facts that have been presented to them. However, that still does not negate the fact that I have been hurt to the very core of my being. I have experienced betrayal from the very people that should know better. It does cause me to ask what is God’s purpose in this all? Maybe that’s the next part of this journey. What I do know is that there is a crisis within many churches, and it’s not just limited to evangelical and fundamentalist denominations. My wounding happened within the most liberal branch of the Lutheran church and within the most liberal church within my community. And if those of us who have been mistreated, wounded, and abused do not have the courage to stand up, this will never change. Healing. I know it will come. I just wish the process was less painful and quicker.
In my opinion, what is so insidious about non-sexual clergy abuse is the secondary wounding that occurs. With me, the clergy that emotionally abused me was popular and charismatic. He exuded warmth, caring, and empathy. In front of people, he would say wonderful things about you, but it was a different story behind closed doors. Without witnesses, the attacks were personal and manipulative. When someone knows your most intimate secrets and buttons, they have a lot of power. When they use that knowledge as a weapon against you, it is horrific. My sense of self was shattered like a glass dropped on a tile floor. Although I am gluing the pieces back together, I will never be the same. There will always be parts of me that will be weaker. The joints that have been glued back together will show like scars.
Like many denominations, mine has extensive rules and guidelines related to sexual misconduct. They even admit that this is not a widespread problem, yet have spent countless hours assuring that both they and congregation members are protected from this threat. On their website, their first statements are related to how the “victim” should be treated. According to them, care of the victim is paramount. Victims are afforded confidentiality, pastoral counseling to help them realize it was not their fault, and they are made aware of every step that will be taken prior to it being taken. It’s interesting that one of their statements says that in order to address this issue, victims need to have the courage to come forward.
While the denomination has detailed information related to sexual misconduct, emotional and spiritual (non-sexual misconduct) is nowhere to be found. The effects on the person are just as traumatic, although in a different way, yet the church refuses to address this much more prevalent threat to the life of the church. I had the courage to come forward with my story and found excuses, blaming the victim, and shunning. I have experienced betrayal and rules changed to fit inappropriate behavior instead. In addition, avoidance has been the name of the game. Through it all, I have been made to feel that I am overreacting. I’m too emotional and “time is needed to heal.” From my perspective, this is disrespectful and patronizing.
It’s easy for others to say, “Well, just find another church.” “It’s time to let this go.” I do see their point of view. It is easy to let my hurt, shame, need for justice or even just my simple need for acknowledgment of my experience to consume me. I know that people experience much worse things than I have. I know the church is full of hypocrites. I know the problem is their inability to confront the brutal facts that have been presented to them. However, that still does not negate the fact that I have been hurt to the very core of my being. I have experienced betrayal from the very people that should know better. It does cause me to ask what is God’s purpose in this all? Maybe that’s the next part of this journey. What I do know is that there is a crisis within many churches, and it’s not just limited to evangelical and fundamentalist denominations. My wounding happened within the most liberal branch of the Lutheran church and within the most liberal church within my community. And if those of us who have been mistreated, wounded, and abused do not have the courage to stand up, this will never change. Healing. I know it will come. I just wish the process was less painful and quicker.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Who Do We Think We Are?
Today, I'm thinking about equality. Maybe it's because I've received a number of notices about the passage of Proposition 8 as well as Arkansas and Florida voting for anti-equality legislation. I still have a hard time understanding why, in this day and age, so many people harbor such resentment against those who they consider to be different than they are. The funny thing is, if you really think about it, every single person is different that us. Pure and simple, this is oppression.
In many ways, I am very lucky. I'm a heterosexual, white married woman with two children. I live a middle class lifestyle. In my life, I truly have no laws that prevent me from some of the most basic human rights. I often wonder what it would be like if all of sudden, a group of people who didn't know me decided that I could no longer enjoy the benefits of having a spouse. I could no longer make decisions for my spouse, I would be denied health benefits, or discriminated against because I was married to someone this group didn't approve of. Frankly, it would be awful. Yet that's what so many people do.
Jesus teaches us that it is not our job to judge others. This is a key theme within the New Testament. From saying that we shouldn't point out the speck in someone else eye when we have a log in our own to flat out saying that's God's job to judge another. Isn't that what we are doing here? Aren't we judging someone else based on our "logs?" If we believe that we, as humans, are created in God's image, doesn't that apply to EVERYONE! We are called to love God and love our neighbor. And our neighbor includes everyone, not just those who we like or are like us. We don't have to agree or like someone else's choices. Because if we aren't careful, someone who doesn't like our choice will make laws against us.
In many ways, I am very lucky. I'm a heterosexual, white married woman with two children. I live a middle class lifestyle. In my life, I truly have no laws that prevent me from some of the most basic human rights. I often wonder what it would be like if all of sudden, a group of people who didn't know me decided that I could no longer enjoy the benefits of having a spouse. I could no longer make decisions for my spouse, I would be denied health benefits, or discriminated against because I was married to someone this group didn't approve of. Frankly, it would be awful. Yet that's what so many people do.
Jesus teaches us that it is not our job to judge others. This is a key theme within the New Testament. From saying that we shouldn't point out the speck in someone else eye when we have a log in our own to flat out saying that's God's job to judge another. Isn't that what we are doing here? Aren't we judging someone else based on our "logs?" If we believe that we, as humans, are created in God's image, doesn't that apply to EVERYONE! We are called to love God and love our neighbor. And our neighbor includes everyone, not just those who we like or are like us. We don't have to agree or like someone else's choices. Because if we aren't careful, someone who doesn't like our choice will make laws against us.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Speaking the Truth
Why is it so hard to speak the truth? Or maybe, why are we afraid to speak the truth? It's interesting to me why it is so hard for people to say what needs to be said. I had an interesting conversation with a friend today about just this very subject. It takes a lot of guts to say the truth, to speak the unspeakable, to say the unpopular. I can honestly say that my penchant for speaking out has gotten me into a lot of trouble. It has been career limiting for me and has cost me relationship with people. There has been a price for my decision to speak out in certain circumstances. Yet, I continue to do it.
The other part of this equation that is so interesting to me is that often times, there are others who feel the same way that I do. They see the same things, have the same concerns, and may have even spoken about it, yet will not speak out. And to take it even a step further, often they will not support the person who does have the guts to speak out. Is it the fear of not being liked? Of not being accepted? Of being wrong?
BUT . . .nothing ever changes if we always agree. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating fighting or arguing. However, if we cannot have honest discussions about all sides of an issue or opinion, how we can know really know if it's right? I know for myself, I have to speak out, I have to ask questions, and I have to be skeptical. It's part of my nature.
I'm reading the Four-Fold Path right now. This book talks about four archetypes based on the beliefs of many indigenous people. It's a fascinating book. One of the archetypes discussed in this book is the Warrior, who is usually the leader. I know for myself, I need to get in touch even more with my Warrior self so I can stand proudly and tall, respecting both myself and others when speaking the unspeakable. Speaking the truth takes courage.
The other part of this equation that is so interesting to me is that often times, there are others who feel the same way that I do. They see the same things, have the same concerns, and may have even spoken about it, yet will not speak out. And to take it even a step further, often they will not support the person who does have the guts to speak out. Is it the fear of not being liked? Of not being accepted? Of being wrong?
BUT . . .nothing ever changes if we always agree. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating fighting or arguing. However, if we cannot have honest discussions about all sides of an issue or opinion, how we can know really know if it's right? I know for myself, I have to speak out, I have to ask questions, and I have to be skeptical. It's part of my nature.
I'm reading the Four-Fold Path right now. This book talks about four archetypes based on the beliefs of many indigenous people. It's a fascinating book. One of the archetypes discussed in this book is the Warrior, who is usually the leader. I know for myself, I need to get in touch even more with my Warrior self so I can stand proudly and tall, respecting both myself and others when speaking the unspeakable. Speaking the truth takes courage.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Reclaiming Myself
I took a big step this week. For the first time, I did not protect my offenders and wrote honestly about what had transpired: the manipulation, the boundary violations, the judgment by so many people. I still have a hard time believing that this would happen in church, and led by a pastor. Man. Even though I understand the difference between the vocation and the people called to serve in them, I still scratch my head. How can so many ordained clergy behave in such a disrespectful way? In such a way that is in direct conflict to Jesus' message to us. I have a hard time believing that any of them would want to be treated the way that I have been. But it's easy to justify my view because I feel wounded.
One of the things that weighs most heavily on me is I am almost certain that I will not receive a response. Avoidance - that's the name of the game. Of course, I don't even know what I would do if I did receive a response. In my wildest dreams, I envision an apology. Would that be enough? That is what is the scariest to ponder: I know that an apology wouldn't be enough. I don't think there is "enough" right now to make it right. There is no way that I will probably ever be able to worship there again. I can't go back and change the past. However, an acknowledgment that I got screwed (not such a church-y word is it) could be healing.
The one thing that I do know is that I truly have to look at this as the end. I need to find a way to make this my "endings" experience. If I don't, I'll be stuck in this neutral zone forever. My own personal desert. I hate hot. I hate being thirsty. I hate being sun burned. I hate the desert. It's time to start moving towards the Promised Land. Start looking towards the new path, which is wonderful. A place where I can celebrate my strengths versus being afraid of using them. A place where I am nurtured honestly, not just because it's expected. I am closer to the Promised Land than I was and probably closer than I think. I just have to claim it for myself!
One of the things that weighs most heavily on me is I am almost certain that I will not receive a response. Avoidance - that's the name of the game. Of course, I don't even know what I would do if I did receive a response. In my wildest dreams, I envision an apology. Would that be enough? That is what is the scariest to ponder: I know that an apology wouldn't be enough. I don't think there is "enough" right now to make it right. There is no way that I will probably ever be able to worship there again. I can't go back and change the past. However, an acknowledgment that I got screwed (not such a church-y word is it) could be healing.
The one thing that I do know is that I truly have to look at this as the end. I need to find a way to make this my "endings" experience. If I don't, I'll be stuck in this neutral zone forever. My own personal desert. I hate hot. I hate being thirsty. I hate being sun burned. I hate the desert. It's time to start moving towards the Promised Land. Start looking towards the new path, which is wonderful. A place where I can celebrate my strengths versus being afraid of using them. A place where I am nurtured honestly, not just because it's expected. I am closer to the Promised Land than I was and probably closer than I think. I just have to claim it for myself!
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