Time to Tell my Story of Spiritual Abuse

Note: some of the incidents I share about may be triggering, so read with caution.

I have been reluctant to write about my experience with abuse in the church but the time has come. First I want to say I am not resentful and I have forgiven everyone in my story. I also do not see myself as a victim. No one coerced me to do anything against my will. I always had the ability to say no. Second I was in leadership for almost 40 years, so I bear a lot of responsibility myself, and I am mindful of that. As you read this, you may think, “Well, you did this yourself too.” I certainly abused my power in my years in full-time ministry. I have apologized publicly and privately and I meant it. I still mean it. To this day I have conversations with people who are processing past trauma, and I am happy to engage and apologize. I had a great healing conversation yesterday with someone who reminded me of a harmful statement I made years ago. I will not debate online though. I am happy to answer questions publicly and I welcome disagreements but never-ending debates on social platforms often cross boundaries.

The fact that I was in leadership is the main reason I have hesitated to tell my story until now. One other reason I am speaking up on this subject is that I see a lot of my friends who have suffered in leadership / full-time ministry but do not have the ability (for various reasons) to speak up right now. One of the reasons is that many had to sign NDAs (non-disclosure agreements) in order to get severance when they left the full-time ministry. I did not sign an NDA so I am free to say what I want, again within the parameters of being a Christian. I intend to be respectful but there are issues I have to address. I owe it to my friends and to the thousands of sincere people (paid to not) who have served wholeheartedly for so many years.

One reason I am sharing now is because everyone has the right to talk about their journey. I have so much guilt/grief that I thought I did not deserve to open up about my experience with spiritual abuse. Another reason I want to share is because many people assume that being in leadership protects us from abuse. That could not be farther from the truth. We just don’t talk about it. I want to speak up for myself but also for others who have served for many years. Unless you were right at the top it is likely you were spiritually abused. If you were or are in leadership, your story matters too.

I will not use names. Rest assured that I have confronted everyone involved. I am not writing this to shame anyone, but there needs to be repentance, so stories like mine do not repeat themselves today. We should have learned by now. I do not want anyone else in the future to go through what I went through. My story may not be as bad as some others I have heard, but it is bad enough. So here we go…

Dial back to 1983. I was a very idealistic 21-year-old and I landed in London to teach at the University of London. I knew my life needed to change. I had been involved in a lot of sin and I was craving a new start. I also wanted to make a difference. I had always been attracted to justice and humanitarian work. So when I became a Christian, that was all good news for me. As I have shared before, there was much good in the early years (and there continues to be), but looking back some things were not right.

I always had questions but those were not welcome. I was labeled as “opinionated’, “prideful”, and self-righteous” pretty much from the start. I remember asking a question about the Holy Spirit as a young leader and I was pulled aside after the meeting only to be reamed about my questioning. I had only asked an innocent question. Discipling group after discipling group the leaders tried to crush me. I did not cry easily but I was made to cry in an effort to “break” me. I also received a lot of encouragement; there is no denying it. But as I have said many times before, the good does not erase the bad.

As a young person, I did not have a lot of money, and I was already very sacrificial, but we were told to give more and more. That was financial abuse for sure. I barely had enough to live on even though I had a good job. I gave way more than 10%. I remember paying for leaders’ grocery bills when for me, that meant I would live on carrots and baked beans for the next two weeks. They always forgot to pay me back. It was always, “Oh can you pay for this and we will pay you back.” I think they were completely unaware, and of course, I never complained. I was also leading a household of young women, and I bore the financial burden of that, covering the rent for many of my roommates. The households’ composition was controlled by the leadership, so I did not have much say in who my roommates were. Many were financially irresponsible, so I ended up paying for others since I was the leader.

I was happy to serve but on top of a full-time job and leadership responsibilities (I led two Bible talks as a young single), I was also a glorified babysitter and a maid for the leaders. I did not resent it. I was happy to serve that but looking back that was definitely not right. Babysitting for a friend or helping with housework as a favor is totally fine (we should serve one another as Christians) but several sleepless nights per week staying up with crying babies who should have been taken care of by their own parents was too much. I had to get up and go to work the next day when they could lie in and stay in bed. Cleaning leaders’ big houses several times a week on top of that was just too much. I am pretty resilient but I remember being constantly exhausted. No wonder so many of my peers started having autoimmune diseases. I know that over the years people in the church have served me also and I am so grateful, but prayerfully, it was not to that extent.

Then there was the issue of weight. Many of us were too obsessed with weight in the 90s, including me, but some of related behaviors were particularly inappropriate. One of the male leaders (his wife was not involved) would have us young female leaders stand in front of him and turn around for him to then decide how much weight we had to lose. It was usually only a few pounds but having our bodies visually scanned by him was humiliating, gross, and weird. That same leader would walk around without his shirt on and give the young women big hugs. It was awkward to say the least. Years later I found out that particular leader had molested and abused most of my friends who were being trained for the ministry along with me. Why was I spared? Maybe I was too “opinionated”.

I was never sexually abused but there were some dodgy things going on. I wouldn’t want my daughters to be involved in anything such as what I experienced. I was often asked to give shoulder massages to male leaders while they were playing cards. I refused, and I was then rebuked for being prideful. The other young women who were present would oblige but I rebelled. I was then verbally harassed, so on one occasion I gave in for literally one minute just to get the leader off my back (same male leader again) but it felt so gross. I stopped and walked away, feeling violated. I wanted to throw up.

When I got married and we went to India, my husband got sick and lost 25 pounds in our first month. We worked really hard and we had very little money. We evangelized all day, studied the Bible with on average ten people a day, and there was no time to cook. Every meal has to be prepared from scratch in India so cooking takes a long time. I was told I was a “terrible wife” because I did not cook for Mark and that was why he got sick. I was brought to tears. I felt bad enough that my husband almost died in our first month of marriage and mission work, and then I was made to feel it was my fault. No, Mark got sick because he caught a parasite. Side note: I am so grateful for all the wonderful families who fed us while we ran around for the ministry. They had limited means and took care of us. Amazing people!

My wonderful husband is not the most confident person by nature. He has insecure moments (who doesn’t?) but as a man in full-time ministry that was considered weak. I was blamed for that too. Yes, it was my fault my husband was insecure. Forget the fact that he would be challenged sharply when the stats were not good enough or when he tried to confront sins in other leaders’ lives only to be shouted at. I will never forget watching my husband sitting on the kitchen counter sobbing after one of those traumatizing phone calls from his “discipler”. He had just been screamed at. We were in our mid-30s by then, had several children, and were leading a very large ministry. We also worked our tails off. Unacceptable and so humiliating. My husband has several degrees from the top universities in the world and he was treated like a child.

During my first 20 years of being a Christian, I was mentored by four different women, and all of them were incredibly abusive, but in different ways. For the last 20 years, I have relied on my best friends for advice and mentoring, and it has worked much better. Discipling (mentoring) was harsh for most people but for leaders, it was on another level altogether, and that is something that has not been talked about very much. High accountability was multiplied the higher you were in leadership. The constant phone calls (“How many baptisms are you going to have this month?”, “How many fallaways?”, etc) were really harassment. But beyond that, the mentoring was often cruel and extremely manipulative. I did not realize it at the time, but now that I am a mature older woman, I shudder at the things I went through (and the things I put others through). Everyone was on a quest to grow the church faster and faster, and that in itself was problematic, but the manipulation and emotional abuse were terrible. And contrary to what some would claim, the abuse didn’t stop after 2003! I was made to feel there was something wrong with me because I stood up for myself more than most. I also have secondary trauma from witnessing even more terrible things happen to my friends who were maybe more vulnerable than I was. I was never screamed at personally but I saw that happen to others on multiple occasions.

Someone would be super nice to you and then at the next discipling group, they would turn on you. Or they would accuse you of having evil motives and a bad heart. I also remember being told that when people left the church (“fell away”), it was my fault because I was the leader and they were now going to hell because of me. I am sure I also made people feel that way at times. What a terrible burden to bear! I always knew it wasn’t right but when I pushed back I was told I was rebellious. I have to say that there were a few “higher-ups” who were sympathetic but no one ever really took a stand. The constant quest for some sort of fake “unity” stood in the way (that is a topic for another blog post).

A major turning point for me was when I started to uncover sexual abuse. The level of anger I was faced with was traumatizing, and that is probably the worst thing I have ever been through. I have PTSD from those experiences for sure. I remember confronting a leader about his misconduct and I was told to get on a plane the next day, leaving my young children at home to fly across the world to be rebuked.

I was a whistleblower on several occasions in cases of abuse. One particular case was extremely painful. I uncovered some extremely serious sexual abuse and I intervened, only for the abuse to be minimized and swept under the rug. As I pushed back I was harassed, receiving dozens of phone calls a day urging me to stop. I was told I was divisive. I was almost disfellowshipped and my family was retaliated against. I watched other younger whistleblowers be completely discredited and their characters assassinated. One was even disfellowshipped for speaking up. I ended up in the doctor’s office with heart palpitations. Meanwhile, dozens of children were being abused. And yes, to put your minds at rest, the case was reported to the authorities and the abuse of the children stopped.

I want to add something pertaining to leadership in the church. Another form of abuse is the threat to our livelihood. Those of us who worked for the church were always under the threat of losing our jobs overnight if we did not comply. From an outsider’s point of view it is easy to say, “Well, you should just speak up and resign!”. True in principle, but when someone goes into the full-time ministry often straight out of college (some were even made to abandon their studies), is paid a minimal wage (very few ministers are well paid), has no savings, no retirement, and is also responsible for a family, it is not so easy. My husband and I had careers before the full-time ministry, so we were able to bounce back, but it can be very challenging for many ministers. If you displeased a leader, first you would be put in “the dog house”, then your responsibilities would be reduced, your character vilified (don’t get me started on the slander!), and finally you would be fired or forced to resign. And more recently, those who were fired were told to sign an NDA in order to receive any kind of severance. No NDA — no severance. That is one very real reason so many former ministers are quiet. I spoke to a friend of mine recently. They read my blog and agree with me, but they cannot say anything because they signed an NDA. Why in the world would a church need an NDA? All of that to say that ministers can be spiritually traumatized too.

Some of the worst stories of abuse I have heard have come from full-time staff. A friend of mine was having a miscarriage and while she was sitting on the toilet literally losing her first child, her “discipler” stood outside the bathroom door screaming at her it was my friend’s fault for losing her baby as she was not “committed enough”. Another friend of mine was physically punched during a discipling time by their mentor. We need to give space for those stories too. The shame and guilt ministers feel when they step out of full-time work prevents many of us from saying anything. It is complicated, as we were part of the system and perpetrated it, but we also suffered greatly from it. Until we name the abuse though, it is unlikely it will stop.

Another issue that is rarely talked about is how families of leaders were controlled, how many kids we were “allowed” to have, how long we could breastfeed our babies, how much travel was involved away from our kids, and how many times people had to move at short notice. I stood up for myself quite a bit (which is why we have five kids) but I was told that I should not have a fourth child when I wanted to because I had to put the ministry first. I knew myself well enough to know that I could raise kids and still be committed to my responsibilities so I did not cave in, but I know many who have regrets and wish they had had more agency. A lot of these practices have changed, but so many still feel the brunt of life decisions made during those ministry years.

In more recent years, as I watched in dismay the exodus and the trauma of way too many young people in the church, I raised my concerns and appealed to leaders, only to be labeled as “too progressive” or “too liberal”. That has been incredibly painful. I sometimes felt I was living in the twilight zone. Now that I am out of that environment I can see how abusive it was. Nelson Mandela once said, “The true character of society is revealed in how it treats its children.”

At times people did listen and pay attention when I brought up my concerns, but what ensued was usually a slap on the wrist for the perpetrator. That in itself was a form of abuse, the minimizing and downplaying of very serious trauma. When I spoke up about the fact that a large number of young people in the church experience mental health challenges, I was told, “Kids these days need to toughen up”.

I also want to add something about what I am experiencing right now. To my surprise, the vast majority of people who read this blog have been incredibly supportive, and that includes both people in and out of the church, young and old, as well as many leaders. Of course, in addition, some think I have gone “too soft” or I have lost my convictions (another blog post to come on that topic), but there is a fair number of people who are angry with me for not condemning the whole church in a more virulent way. I refuse to do that. There are too many kind people who are not abusive, who are on their own journey, and I want to be gracious.

If you have read this far, thank you for allowing me to share. My story is light compared to many, but it is not insignificant. Whether you were a leader or simply a member of the church, sharing our story is part of healing. Everyone deserves to feel seen and heard. More of us need to be transparent and speak. We were conditioned to not say anything as that would be “critical”, and so many of us are still controlled by that thinking. We can speak up and still be gracious. That is the only way change will take place. At the end of the day, I believe that wanting change is the caring thing to do.