My experiences of spiritual abuse

A recent Facebook conversation prompted me to write this.  I still cry as I bring out these details:

I am not Biblically illiterate. I can never remember a time when I was not a Christian. My education was through a Christian school/curriculum from second grade on. I attended two different Bible colleges. All my adult life, I had been in church (and sporadically throughout my childhood). But I fell for spiritually abusive doctrine.

My story begins. I was invited by a manager at my work at the time to attend her church for a special event. I always said I do not know why I went. My sons and I had gone to our own church that morning, and I had homework for college that evening; but I went that afternoon. I always felt it was a God-thing. I enjoyed the sermon. The people made me feel very welcome. My sons enjoyed the atmosphere, so we began attending just to see how things went. Things went well for a while. Some of the teachings included ideas that I was not sure about. They referred to "when I got the Holy Ghost" and "in the name of Jesus" in ways that I had not heard before. (I grew up with an understanding of traditional Pentecostal doctrine, so I was familiar with speaking in tongues and other charismatic gifts; but this was a way of mentioning things I had never heard before).

A few months after I began attending church here, I had a health scare. I found a lump in my breast. I had it examined by three different doctors, who told me is was nothing; but I was still worried. Eventually, my regular doctor ordered a mammogram, which, again, showed everything was normal; but this is where a lot started in for me.

At this church, it was common practice for the whole congregation to go to the front of the church for altar calls, what some churches call invitations. I felt comfortable doing that, because I felt we were praying for one another's needs; and I sure had needs at that time. I had talked with my manager at work about those needs. I knew she had talked to the pastor about those needs, and I craved people praying for me. (I thought it strange that things were separated by sexes there. The women went to one side of the church to pray while the men went to the other. The women wore only dresses, did not cut their hair, did not wear make-up or jewelry. The men did not have long hair, have facial hair, etc. I was familiar enough with this ideology, though, from my mother's own background and her talking about the church she grew up in to know the Biblical basis for these ideas. I did not agree, but so far it had not posed any problems here).

When I went to the front, there were always large groups of women and sometimes the male leaders of the church who would gather around me. They always shouted things like, "Give it to Jesus" and "Let God have it." I assumed they meant the worries that I had on my mind. They would lean in closely to me as I prayed, as though listening for something. But, for some reason, no matter how hard I prayed; there was always a feeling of disappointment when I left the altar. I could not understand it.

The sermons were often wonderful. They talked a lot of spiritual warfare, of healing, of faith. I loved the sermons. More than once, more than twice or three times, they were exactly what I needed to hear for the worries I was going through. They felt comforting. They were comforting on so many levels.

I remember the day specifically. It was the night before my mammogram was scheduled. I had made a doctor's appointment for the next day, because I still was not sure if I was feeling anything or not. (Believe it or not, the mammogram was more comfortable than what I was putting myself through physically. This is where my own compulsions really came into play). This would be the first time my regular doctor would examine me. I was so worried, I called in to work that night. Instead of going to work, I went to church. It was a Wednesday evening service. As was a custom at all of the services, at the end of the service, the pastor offered an invitation for baptism. I knew they kept asking me about baptism, but to be honest, I had been baptized twice before. Once I was baptized as a child, and I had been re-baptized as an adult; so I felt pretty sure of my baptism. I had never thought baptism as anything more than a symbol of our relationship with Jesus. I believe this is one of those topics that causes a lot of confusion in Christianity; because it is difficult to understand exactly what the Bible is saying. However, I always believed baptism was a good thing. That said, what caused a lot of confusion at this church was the way they baptized. They followed Acts 2:38 to a literal point of believing they had to baptize "in the name of Jesus." I never had a problem with that. I still do not, but more about this is coming in a moment.

I remember the pastor's words that night. He told the story of a man who had diabetes. He said he told the man if he went down in the water and took on the name of Jesus, he would never have a problem with it again. He said the man did, and he didn't. He had been healed. More than anything, I wanted my doctor's appointment to be fine the next day. I was so worried. I was not worried for myself. I was worried for my sons. I did not want them to be left without a mother. A couple of years before, their pediatrician had died of breast cancer. She left behind two sons. I often thought about her sons. They were so young when their mother died. At this point, I could not get them out of my mind. So I felt that maybe God was telling me to do this. Maybe He was wanting me to show my faith in Him. So when my manger came over during this altar call and asked if I wanted to be baptized, I said yes. I am not disappointed that I did. I believe baptism is a good thing. But I found out that night that I had a different idea of baptism than they did. They were thinking of it as much more than simply a symbol of taking on the name of Jesus. I was walking out to my car that night when another person from my work called out, "See you later, Sister Kandy." I could not figure out why. In my mind, nothing had changed about my faith whatsoever. She had never called me "Sister" before. But I let it go. (I later also discovered why one of my younger son's Sunday school teachers referred to herself as "aunt" and her first name to the younger children).

Not long after, I began a Bible study with one of the elders in the church. Right around that time, there was a special evangelist that came to preach. His sermon will probably always stick with me. He was preaching on baptizing "In Jesus' name." He explained that when Jesus commanded to baptize in the name of the "Father, Son, and Holy Ghost"; He was commanding to baptize in His own name because "name" is singular, not plural. Therefore, the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is Jesus. Therefore, any other type of baptism is not real and is not good. Those people being baptized are not really saved, based on Acts 2:38. He told the story of an eight-year old girl who loved Jesus with all her heart. She believed with all of her heart. She would come to church every week. But she had never been baptized in Jesus' name. One day, this little girl was riding her bicycle and was hit by a car. She died. This evangelist said, "I do not know if that little girl is in heaven. She was never baptized in Jesus' name." One of my own sons was eight at the time. I looked at him and thought, "I cannot see God turning him away."

At the same time, I began hearing teachings in the Bible study I was going to saying that we are living in a religious age. There is a church on every corner. But those are not real Christians. I began understanding the differences between Trinitarian and Oneness theology. I had studied it some in college, but now I was really seeing it. I made the comment in Bible study one evening that I do not think we either one have it completely right. It's our finite minds trying to understand God. I remember these words. I said, "I have a feeling when we all get to heaven, God's going to laugh and say, 'That's what you thought?'" I will never forget my Bible teacher/elder looking at me and asking me, "What do you mean when we all get to heaven? They're not going. What does the Bible say about baptism?" He began quoting Acts 2:38.

It dawned on me. They believed if I had never stepped foot in that church, and if everything had not been okay with everything I was going through; they believed if I had died, I would have gone to hell. They believed the church saved me. But they connected it with the Bible. And it made total sense. Not only this, but this Bible study also revealed that, according to Acts, if someone does not speak in tongues as the initial evidence of having the Holy Spirit, they really do not have Him. That's why they spoke so often about "getting the Holy Ghost." That's why they leaned their ears in so closely when I prayed, begging God for healing and protection. They really had not cared about the physical and emotional issues I was facing. They wanted to see if I was speaking in tongues so they could see if I had the Holy Ghost. And, according to the Bible, salvation comes through the Holy Ghost. They never admitted this one out right (they did in theory) that if one does not have the Holy Spirit, that person is not saved. The only "initial evidence" of having the Holy Spirit is speaking in tongues. Thus, if someone does not speak in tongues, they do not have the Holy Spirit, thus, they are not saved. This is the doctrine of this church. It is not promoted as regularly as the doctrine of baptism in Jesus' name; because baptism in Jesus' name is in the hands of the the person; whereas, they promote speaking in tongues as being an act of God. (For the record, I do believe speaking in tongues is a gift still in operation today. I'm a big believer in the charismatic gifts. But I do not have this same interpretation. I believe it is one of many spiritual gifts, not an evidence of anything).

More and more I head these teachings. More and more I communicated my frustrations, my hurt, my anger at times with those in leadership positions. But I kept thinking that God had led me there. They were using the Bible. Was I really saved or not before I went there? What they were teaching made sense, because they were quoting the Bible word-for-word. They were not taking anything out or adding anything. This ate away at me.

Then they began talking about holiness. They began adding that we would be tempted to leave this church and go to other churches. They began talking about how God will put us through trials to bring us back to Him, because we had been sinning in some way. He led us to this church. We needed it. It was full of love. They loved people. I kept asking myself if this is why God put me through what I had been through. I so wanted to leave, but I couldn't. I wanted to get out of the hurt I was feeling every time I walked in the doors, but I couldn't. I would never want to make God angry with me. I would never want to hurt Him. I would never want to disobey Him. It wasn't a fear of God that was promoted here. It was being scared to death of God.

I never did fully take on the dressing habits of the women in the church. I did stop wearing make-up. My mom never allowed make-up. She called wearing make-up "being a Jezebel." So I thought maybe this was one of the things I had been doing wrong in my adult life. It may have seemed like a little thing to me (I had repented good of anything that I considered a big thing), but maybe that was one thing God wanted me to give up. Maybe that's why He led me to a church that believed this way.

But because I did not fully take on their doctrine of holiness, I was never truly accepted to be a part of the church. I did question why I could not become involved in the church. Their response was always I needed to have patience for God's timing. My second year there, they finally asked if I wanted to help with VBS. I was so excited that I finally got to do something. It was not what I really felt called to do. I would have loved to have facilitated a women's Bible study. But it was a start. When I did come to VBS the first day, I was given the new youth pastor's eighteen-month old son and was told to do some craft activities with him. That was my part in VBS. If anyone else brought babies (I have never heard of people other than those helping with VBS bringing babies), I could do things with them as well. I talked with the pastor about this. The next day, the baby was not there; and I was told there really wasn't anything I was needed for.

During this time, I was slowly beginning to heal spiritually. By the time I saw things affecting my sons (especially my older son who did not fit in), I was ready to leave. This is going to sound really strange, but this was the final straw for me. I probably did this because I was so frustrated. A passive-aggressive moment, but it gave me the strength to leave. One day, we missed Sunday school. (Mind you, adult Sunday school was not a class. It was a shorter sermon by one of the elders before the regular sermon began. I often questioned why there were no classes where people could actually talk and discuss, but I never received an adequate answer). We went to church that day as normal. That evening, I was talking with a friend who told me something that had happened with her daughter's (also my older son's) class. (She came to the church shortly after I did and never really made the grade, either). She said one of the kids had commented something about Santa Claus. One of the teachers had "slipped" and said something like "there is no Santa Claus." I posted on my Facebook "That must be why God did not have us go to Sunday school this morning." Like I said, maybe that was passive aggressive. Maybe I wanted to get out something small. I don't know. No one took it the wrong way. In fact, I received quite a few comments saying kids should not believe in Santa Claus. No one took it as anything negative about the church. But I received a message on my Facebook telling me I needed to take the post down, because it could reflect negatively on the church. (This was a common concern. Never say anything in public that could be interpreted as negativity about the church. There was a huge emphasis on bringing people in, so nothing negative in any way should ever be said in public. If we had concerns, we were to take them to the leaders. We were to only speak positively to others who were not in the church. There were actually sermons on this topic).

I don't know why that was the final straw for me, but it was. I did remove the post. And I decided I needed a break. I told the pastor (who had heard of all of my concerns throughout my time there) that I was just taking a break. I needed to get away for a while. I fully intended on going back after a few months. However, I couldn't. Once I tasted freedom, I could not go back into the bondage. I could not go back into being rejected, of feeling most at home on the back row. I could not go back to feeling as though the church saved me. I could not go back into it. I could not take my sons back into it. I was finally away.

Now, granted, a lot played on my mind. The first thing that came to mind was, "Is God going to punish me for leaving?" I'm gong to be honest. I have had a fear of doctor's appointments ever since. I still dread my yearly check-ups. That fear is still in the back of my mind. Some days are worse than others. Sometimes some weeks are worse than others. But I have learned to trust God day by day. I am slowly learning to live each day to its fullest, because God wants that. I have learned that God has always had a plan; and I can use my own experiences to help others.

I still have problems with getting into groups of Christians that have a doctrine anywhere near close to the doctrine of this church. It's one of the reasons housechurching works so well for us right now.

I could probably add a lot to this post. But this works for now. In short, I understand the concept of people believing they have to make a break from God after leaving spiritually and emotionally abusive situations. I do not think that is the right answer, but I believe God understands.

I have gotten to the point where I do not blame the leaders of such churches. In fact, if there is anyone that I have always respected it is the pastor of this church. I have never met anyone who truly loves God more. I honestly haven't. In fact, my respect for him is part of what kept me there as long as I was. But I do see the leaders as victims of oppressive doctrines. Just as I was. At times, I still am. Like I said, some days are worse than others. But God is faithful. He does heal. He has led me step-by-step in healing. He has led me to face a lot from my childhood that this church brought out. He has led me to become a better parent, a better follower of Him. All things truly do work together for good.