Bad Theology
The Root of the Abuse
I did an interview with a young person this week, and it really made me think. Once again, I am learning from the youth. And by youth, I don’t mean teenagers. I mean young people in their 20s and 30s. They have a way of provoking my thoughts and making me reflect.
This whole blog and the entire process of using my voice to advocate for victims of church abuse started when I realized the impact of our spiritual culture on the next generation. As a mother of five adult kids and as someone who worked with youth for many years, what struck me was that we had made a mess of things in many ways.
I was heartbroken over the mental health struggles of Gen Z and young Millennials, often related to their upbringing in church. I was shocked by the suicides, I was horrified by the way the youth were marginalized when they expressed concerns, and I was also dismayed at the exodus of the youth from the church.
As I spoke up, the next stage was to be deeply disappointed by the lack of response and by the apathy of my peers. For years, I had attended leadership meetings and conferences where we pledged to care, yet when our own children and the children of the members showed signs of trauma, I was indignant at the lack of alarm and the lack of action.
Move forward a couple of years, and here we are today. Over the last few months, I have come to understand why I have felt I was hitting a wall. I have been puzzled by the fact that so many in leadership seem to agree with me, yet do not say anything, or if they do, it is very cautious and subdued.
Of course, some of those reasons I have talked about before: fear of losing jobs and income, fear of rejection, long-term conditioning, a false sense of unity, etc. But I think the biggest factor is the theology, and this is what many, especially the youth, are talking about these days. What started a few years ago as a movement raising our voices against spiritual abuse has now evolved into a clear denunciation of bad theology. Some of the beliefs we have held so dear are actually very toxic and harmful.
I am not the best at explaining this. Others have said it much better than I could. The evangelical view of hell and the fact that we believe the vast majority of people are going to eternal damnation is unhealthy, and not even accurate according to the scriptures and the teachings of Jesus. In my previous fellowship, we also believed we were the only ones saved. Even though that has changed somewhat, the way we practice our faith still supports that belief.
One of the biggest dangers of that whole belief system is the othering of those who do not believe the same way we do. They become less-than, inferior, less worthy, and it becomes a slippery slope to discrimination and ostracization. Dislike and even hate are quick to follow. If someone leaves the fold, they are lost and deserving of damnation, so why should we care?
The other belief that everything is the responsibility of the individual and systems have nothing to do with personal faith and life choices is also a reason for apathy and the lack of curiosity. “Well, they left”, “They chose to forsake their faith”, “They lost their convictions”, etc. Convictions about what, I may ask? Maybe those in the church are the ones with weak convictions. Maybe strong convictions about God are what caused many to walk away.
The bad theology about roles, the way women are considered second-class citizens (and please don’t argue with me about that if your church does not have a woman preacher), the way gay people are bullied and shamed from the pulpit, the way mental health is still seen as a worldly concern by way too many (I have heard too many messages on that topic). You say, "Well, my church is not like that”. Maybe. And that’s good for you. But you are still part of a system that supports this dysfunction by tacit and quiet agreement. If you don’t speak up, you quietly agree. Your silence says it all.
I am not writing this to shame others. I would only be repeating the very thing I highlight. I do want those of my generation to seriously consider what we are passing on to the next generation. What is our legacy? Is it a healthy faith that imitates Jesus and loves our neighbors as we love ourselves? Or is it a system that does the very opposite, a system that condemns our neighbors and ostracizes them? Let us think long and hard.



Bingo! When we left the fellowship, we were part of 20+ years, we did it with as much integrity as possible, because our adult children were still part. We were the victims of spiritual abuse, which included dismissal of our concerns, gaslighting, and eventually wicked lies being told about us, and even a lawsuit threatened against us for making degrading comments about leaders online. We absolutely did not make any comments on social media. Evidence was fabricated to support their case and even shown to our children when they asked questions of the leaders. The guilty party did this because they knew people loved us and would ask questions. They cared zero about our souls and the souls of our children.
Two of our adult children were still part of that fellowship. A man who knew us and have been part of that church for as long as we had, approached my adult son after we left and said something like ‘ wow, it must be pretty difficult for you to have to face the fact that your parents are now going to hell’. Instead of reaching out to us with curiosity and questions, most people simply ignored us or sent us the message, “We are praying for you.” That made us sick and angry. Because we know what they were praying for. That we would repent so that we wouldn’t lose our salvation.
Yes, THIS is the fruit of the culture of bad theology. Sad, infuriating, and humbling because we recognize our past part in it. But, so thankful that all of our adult children support and respect us, and they are now seeing the fruit of our current healthy spiritual path. I often pray that many more in the ICOC will wake up and be willing to experience the temporary suffering of leaving the system because the freedom beyond that suffering is well worth it.
I once asked a respected counselor who came to speak to our congregation, “How can we help our kids who were raised in this toxic system?” His reply helped me out the door: “Oh, I don’t think kids have been affected.”