Sorry.

Sorry that I’ve lapsed in posting. This semester proved to be much more frustrating, intense, and huge than anticipated.

I’ve been thinking about Lent and Easter lately, so I plan to post about that in the next few days.

The First Church: Manipulation and Neglect

I do not remember my earliest years at The First Church. I have spoken with my parents and a few others who have left the Cult Church, and have pieced together a very basic sense of how my family was involved.

My mother was working from home as a day-care provider for about three children, plus my older sister and I. She had recently been forced to quit her night job as a store security guard because of an injury she received on the job (a man had broken in and kicked her in the knee; my mother chased him, destroying her ACL). My father also held two jobs, and we lived in a subsidized apartment. Mom was waiting for the first of the kids to arrive for the day and had the TV on to help her stay awake.

Maybe Mom was waiting for childrens’ shows to begin. Maybe she just wasn’t paying attention. But, when “The 700 Club” began, she started listening to accounts of people involved in church. And, at naptime, she had found a local church that called itself family-friendly and positive. Soon, we were part of the church.

The first sign of manipulation happened early. The pastor insisted that tithing was crucial. As I mentioned, my dad worked two jobs; Mom began working a second job soon after they began attending The First Church.  We lived in a subsidized apartment. There was no money to spare. But, the pastor said, tithing is way of obeying God, and he promised that our family would see rewards. So, Mom found a way to take the money out of the grocery budget.

Well, the pastor was right: before we were desperate for food, one of the ladies from church dropped by with bags of groceries. The groceries totaled to about the amount tithed, plus a bit more — usually five to ten dollars more. This was used regularly, for the first few years, to show my parents that trusting in God (i.e., tithing) would be rewarded (in this instance, by meeting physical needs). My sister and I also relied on hand-me-down clothing, only receiving school shoes and underwear new.

Soon, the leadership learned of my parents’ skills. Mom was a trained singer and musician, Dad had worked with entertainment-related technology. Before long, Mom was part of the worship team and Dad involved in the “sound team” — he was responsible for setting up the music system and taking it down each Sunday, and for making sure all parts of the worship team sounded balanced.

During this time, I was engaged in the preschool and early elementary Sunday School. While I do not remember much about the religious aspects, I do remember that Sunday School was usually fun. First Church met in a local high school, and the children’s activities were held in the lower level of the building. The most direct route from the cafeteria (where the service was held) was a set of stairs, but most took a longer route that included a long, inclined hallway. I recall a few Sundays in which, while Dad and a few other men set up the cafeteria for service, my sister and I would explore (we knew not to go *upstairs*, but we were allowed to go downstairs and into any area that was not locked or through any doors with an “exit” sign).

One Sunday, when I was six, my sister and I made it into the section of classrooms used for Sunday School when the nursery leader was setting up. She told us to help her by getting the sectioned walls (which were wheeled) and bringing them into the open area she used (she had her younger children with her). This morning, my sister (who was eleven) and I split up. I was in the next hallway when I was pushing a wall section (we had been told to pull them, but I thought pushing would go faster — and, remember, I was six years old). The wall folded and started to fall. One of the nursery leader’s children had wandered into that part of the hallway, and didn’t see the section falling — so I yelled at her to move and put my leg in front of the section to keep it from falling on her (again, remember, I was six years old). The section fell on my leg and it was stuck. I was scared, and called for my sister — but she didn’t hear me. I called for the adult — she didn’t hear me. The toddler who had wandered into the hall had run away. There was still an hour and a half left until church started.

I started to pull my leg out from under the wall section. The metal edge scraped skin off from my knee to my ankle. By the time my leg was free, I started to panic — my shoe was stuck. I would get in trouble if I lost my shoe. I wiggled this shoe loose and managed to get my footing. My leg hurt badly and had started bleeding. I started looking for the nursery leader, but realized quickly that she wasn’t there. My sister was somewhere else. I had the sense to go upstairs to the cafeteria rather than wander around.

By the time I made it to the cafeteria, my leg was visibly bloody. My sock was becoming damp with blood. I was nearly hysterical. Dad saw me first, and was angry and afraid. One of the elders had medical training, and cleaned up and bandaged my leg. Another couple from the church, who had five children at the time (now they have twelve, two of whom were adopted), had brought a bag of hand-me-downs for my sister and I — which included a clean pair of socks. I sat with Dad during church that day instead of going to Sunday School. The nursery leader was, as far as I know, only told that she needed to do these jobs herself, and that my sister and I (and any other “big kids”) were only allowed to help by playing with her kids while she set up.

That situation is a symptom of an overall problem in First Church (as well as the Cult Church): letting young children run free, without supervision. Any educator worth his or her training would not ask a six-year-old and an eleven-year-old do her job, much less a potentially dangerous aspect. More, any adult who is responsible for children (and the nursery leader meets this description) should make sure all children are accounted for or join her before she leaves an area. When the adult in question is a parent, this is a symptom of neglect. A teacher who neglects to supervise his or her students risks being fired for not fulfilling the job for which he or she was hired.

This has been one of my most memorable experiences from my childhood. Twenty years later, I remember how frightened I was — because I was in pain and all alone, and because I was afraid of getting in trouble. Most specifically, I remember the elder who bandaged my leg. He said that I didn’t do anything bad, but I should not tell my teacher at school what happened; I should say that I fell down. That it was an accident. That, if I said that the nursery leader had left me alone, she could get into lots of trouble. And, Susanna, we don’t want a grown-up getting in trouble because of an accident, do we?

The Idea of Church

Like many Sundays, I’m spending this morning with coffee and reflection. I’ll reflect on the past week, think about the week to come. I will remember the people I’ve interacted with and think of ways to brighten someone’s day, especially during the cold and grey winter.

I might spend some time reading the Bible. I might listen to a sermon (or liturgy) online. I will definitely pray.

Notice what I did not include: “going to church”. Now, I will get up on time, get dressed appropriately (especially since the church I attend, albeit sporadically, is a tad more formal), and physically go to a church building on Sunday occasionally. But, because of the church environment of my childhood, I sometimes find it difficult to feel “safe” in a church.

As I begin to tell this story, please remember a few things: All names are substitutions. To preserve a sense of security, I have chosen to use the name Susanna, who was one of the women who physically followed Jesus (see Luke 8:1-3). I will not refer to churches, pastors, or others by their true names (nor location).  The first part of the story will begin in the next post.

What is Spiritual Abuse?

One reason (the primary reason) I am writing this blog is to share my story. I was raised in a church that practiced many different forms of spiritual abuse.

I hesitate to call this group a cult. The strict definition of a cult is a religious group that is outside of mainstream belief; the connotation (assumed meaning) is typically negative. The word “cult” brings to mind Charles Manson, Heaven’s Gate, or Jim Jones. The initial reaction of most people is to imagine murders or mass suicides.

However, I am willing to state that my childhood church used abusive techniques and methods to control the congregation. As with any other situation of abuse, spiritual abuse has long-term damaging effects. Spiritual abuse can include physical, psychological, and sexual abuse and mistreatment; the distinguishing factor of spiritual abuse is the perpetrator’s role as a spiritual or religious leader.

Spiritual abuse includes, but is not limited to, the following:

The focus is on individual perfection, evangelism, or both. Members are expected to be the best of the best and convert the most. Personal relationships within the group are often monitored, and communication beyond conversion is often focused solely on continued growth.

Obedience to the leadership is the most important facet of one’s life. This can include humiliating behaviors or actions (public confession or confrontation for “sin”, proving devotion through extreme actions).

The leadership or group is more important than the individuals within. Often, spiritually abusive environments require members to devote hours each day to the church. This can include cleaning the building, working for the leader, evangelizing, or excessive tithing (over the commonly accepted 10% or insistence on tithing in significant financial hardship).

People are valued based on what they contribute to the group or church, not for their own worth as people. Those who can give more money or time or have useful talents are given more recognition and considered examples for others to emulate (even when those resources or talents are not available to all).

The spiritual focus is on perfection or performance, not sincere growth. There are certain “acceptable” or “desirable” ways to worship or pray, and straying results in criticism or removal of privilege. Often, individual study of the Bible (or other religious text) is discouraged, as the content is too “complicated” for the average person to understand.

A significant number of people within the group suffer from guilt, doubt, or worry — about spiritual and personal matters. People feel as though they are never “good enough”, see anything that is not “of the church” as sinful, and cannot make decisions without counsel from leadership.

The group is seen as superior or better than other churches or schools. As a member or student, you are “elite” in comparison to others. You are more spiritual, more obedient, better. Conversely, other groups are inferior, less spiritual, less obedient.

Information and resources are limited. Either the physical resources are kept at a minimum, or an “approved list” exists. This is especially true of religious study and academics.

Questions or objections are unwelcome, dismissed, or subject for punishment. Children are told to do what they are told, because the grown-ups know what they are talking about. Teenagers and young adults are held to strict behavioral standards and discouraged from learning about religion beyond the group’s approved information. Adults, especially those in leadership, are confronted for asking any questions.

Former members are either shunned or actively sought. Depending on the group and the circumstances for departure, those who leave are treated with extreme affection or extreme cruelty. If a member moves for work or school, he or she is directed to a like-minded church. If the member leaves due to disagreement or is dismissed, former friends (and, sometimes, family) may refuse to speak to them or offer them help. That individual has “left God’s covering”, is “living in sin” or “backslidden”, and will only be welcomed back if he or she proves repentance to the leadership and the group as a whole.

 

In future posts, I will explore why spiritual abuse matters, the damage it causes, and how to recover from that damage. This blog is part of my healing process. I hope that my reflections will help others to heal. I intend to analyze the spiritual implications when my story progresses from my childhood to my teen and adult years.

I also intend to make a list of national (i.e.,the United States) organizations that are capable of facilitating the healing process. There are also counselors (both religious and non-religious) in most major cities.

If you are in an abusive environment of any kind, get out now. You are worth more than physical, sexual, emotional, or spiritual abuse.

If you know that a child is being abused, you can make an anonymous phone call to ChildHelp USA (1-800-422-4453).

If you (or someone else) have been raped or sexually abused, contact RAINN (1-800-656-HOPE).

If you are a child (under the age of 18), you do not deserve abuse. You have done nothing to deserve abuse. If you are not allowed to use a phone, you can tell your teacher or counselor at school. They must tell the police, but this will help you.

 

Introduction

Hello, all.

This blog will include several facets of my life, including educational pursuit, knitting projects, and other interests. I will also share my faith journey, which began during my childhood in a cult-like church and has led me to the Episcopal Church.

As you may imagine, I will post about a variety of different subjects. I plan to label each post for easier reading.

I hope everyone is doing well!

Susanna