Religious Trauma: A Ministry Leader's Perspective

A seven-part series for Spiritual Abuse Awareness Month

January is Spiritual Abuse Awareness Month and while I have written extensively on this topic (see posts in the section: Religious Trauma), I have not specifically addressed the seven perspectives on religious trauma that inform my writing. That is what I hope to accomplish through this seven-part series that includes my perspectives as a child, survivor, woman leader, parent, educator, ministry leader, and trauma-informed advocate. While I sat in all six chairs at one time or another, not all share my story. I hope this series will be helpful to those who have not sat in particular chairs—and affirming to those who have.

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A Ministry Leader’s Perspective on Religious Trauma

Probably the least likely way I would identify myself would be as a ministry leader. Yet, having participated in training ministry leaders for most of my life, that seems like something I should list. Most who train ministry leaders would list their areas of expertise as theology—practical or otherwise. Or, possibly Christian history or preaching. Maybe pastoral counseling or Christian education. That last one comes the closest to being on my list but my list also includes teaching elementary education courses, psychology, children’s ministry, and math. Math is undoubtedly the most interesting.

In truth, I never believed the subject matter was as important as who I encouraged students to become. This was especially true when it came to teaching math. No subject displays inner angst any better than math. It is the one subject where our insecurities are most likely to arise. Anyone who dislikes math—more than seems logical—has likely had a bad experience with it. I had no idea I was helping people through the impact of trauma, but I was.

As I think back on my years of teaching math, I can clearly see that an underlying current in my math survey courses for Bible college students was to make connections between mathematical concepts and God as the creator. In this vein, I am more likely to consider myself a ministry leader if I view that role as someone who works to draw others to God. When I dig deep into why I taught math, that really was the purpose. So many could not believe in themselves—who God created—when they walked into math class.

So, how does all this apply to religious trauma? Well, it wasn’t until my life purpose to draw others to God broadened to include an understanding of the impact of trauma. I had never found anything more effective in healing the ruptured relationships between God and those who desired to grow spiritually. I was overwhelmed by the possibility that if ministry leaders were introduced to the principles of trauma-responsive care, it would transform churches.

Then I began to listen to the stories of those who had experienced religious trauma and felt the pushback when I held the church accountable. I realized that my work to change the ingrained views ministry leaders held on the sources of mental health problems and behavior was an uphill climb that was often so steep it turned into a wall—an impassible wall of resistance.

While I am encouraged by the ministry leaders who have embraced the principles of trauma-responsive care and ministry, the growing number of people who are experiencing judgment and rejection within church* contexts is a source of grief. I truly believe that ministry leaders and churches can provide safe spaces for healing but instead, the opposite is often true. This is why people leave. This is religious trauma.

The many ministry leaders creating safe spaces inherit the distrust caused by those who previously caused the pain. When in a situation where I am recognized as a ministry leader, I often find myself searching for a way to identify myself as someone who loves unconditionally and follows the teachings of Jesus as expressed in the Beatitudes. This is no longer a given. There are entire people groups who now fear anyone who identifies as Christian. Increasingly I meet people who reject identifying themselves as a Christian even though they have not left their faith behind. Religion yes, but not their faith.

Not long after the election, while expressing grief for survivors, I was told that the political vote choices that I found profoundly troubling would not impact the work I do. I was stunned by the disconnect. How could it not impact what I do? How could my efforts to help survivors believe that God did care about them not seem suspect when Christians seem to care so little for their pain and suffering? For survivors to trust God, we must be trustworthy as we ask them to draw close. This is my work and yes, the current chaos supported by so many Christians makes my work even more difficult. It is religious trauma when the name of God is invoked by those who cause harm.

Finally, though I would not have ever placed myself in the category of being a ministry leader, it fell upon me by default. Thus, I am a ministry leader who does not want to be placed in the same category as all other ministry leaders by those who are increasingly losing faith in us. I need who I am to stand on its own merits. I lived in the shadow of many ministry leaders who either did not live up to their calling or lacked an understanding of servant leadership. No more.

I tread a fine line with many survivors who have walked away from faith but do trust me. That is humbling and it is a sacred responsibility to live out my faith in simple and kind ways that hopefully point to the God who cared for me when evil tried to destroy me. Every ministry leader who fails or follows the lure of power makes what I do as a ministry leader even more important—and more difficult.

And this truth continues to inflict religious trauma in my life and work.

*Author Note: I realize the word church is inadequate to describe the incredibly diverse faith communities in the United States and around the world. If what I write in these Religious Trauma newsletters is not present in your church culture, that is a blessing that does not discount the existence of church culture which is traumatizing or re-traumatizing the wounded. I believe what I write on this topic has value for reflection even if your church culture is different.