God and Bullies

He was a bully.

She sat across from me but stared beyond me. Her jaw was set but her eyes misted anyway. He told everyone I am mean. Her slight head shake said, No, no, no. this is not right. She continued, He was the bully, not me.  But if I say that I will be accused of being argumentative.

She pursed her lips and her head shook back and forth with more vigor.  The helplessness she felt showed in her hands, open and laying on her lap as she illustrated frustration by bouncing them up and down.  Why is asking questions mean?

I knew him.  He was indeed a bully.  Bullies are common in religions formed on the principle of hierarchy.  The big boss is usually the pastor, and if the system is so devoid of preset, written accountabilities, that pastor often becomes not only the spiritual ruler but also the punisher. Such was her case.

Those systems are the ones that end up with leadership full of repeat offenders who keep getting ‘forgiven’ only to do it again.  There is only one person calling the shots, one person who has no standard to which he must submit.  In fact, submitting is not a part of his world in any way.  Rather, he (or she) rules, and often he rules with an iron fist. 

Most of the time, emotions and desires make the choices rather than good solid principles.  Oh, sure, he may call around to find a person who would pat him on the head and say his personal preferences for punishments are indeed spiritually appropriate.  However, the approval is not necessary, as he already considers himself the God ordained ruler of his church.  He deems his actions ‘Biblical.’  There will not be a soul to check him on that, though, as he has no standard except his own.

Was that too harsh?  Too direct?  Are you squirming at my description? 

It is indeed difficult to look frankly into the lives of abusive pastors and other spiritual leaders.  In America it is almost considered taboo.  ‘Don’t judge’ is the mantra too oft repeated as biblical mandates for godly leadership are ignored under the heresy that we do not have a right to decipher the depth of spirituality and avoid what is evil.

We do.  More importantly, we better.

She started weeping—that, no wrinkles in the face, mouth closed, I refuse to give in—kind of weeping.  I waited for her to gain the strength to hear my words without bursting, then I told her.  He should never have done what he did, and he should be held accountable. 

That truth of it hung in the air shrouded in the reality that he would never even be questioned, let alone answer for his actions. 

She started crying again. He ruined my ministry.  Utterly ruined it. 

Lies and gossip and derogatory letters, threats of humiliation had been sufficient to protect the pastor from facing his own evil.  He had threatened her, telling her he would publicly humiliate her if she challenged him.

She had asked him two questions he did not like.  When he got mad at her, she went to ask someone else.  That second asking set him ablaze.  That fire revealed what he was really like.

He set about shutting her up. 

He succeeded. 

Then he told anyone who would listen what he had told his church.  All of it was lies.  None of it provable.  Much of it was believable.  She had been forced, for more than six months, to constantly explain the truth.  Often people believed the heinous pastor, simply because he is a pastor. 

She looked me square.  Will it ever end?

Not in that church, No. 

All at once the dam of shame and frustration broke and she sobbed into her hands.  I moved closer, got on my knees and let her lean into my shoulder.  I know that undeserved sense of shame all too well,  I’ve been there. 

She had to cry it out.  Abuse will not heal until we do so. 

Spiritual bullies are the worst type of abusers.  They put the power of God behind their sin and they lie.  They lie profusely.  They convince those who do not know better that they must submit in some way that leads invariably to personal humiliation.

And then they say it’s the victim’s fault.

Worse, they then expect the victim to sit quietly in church, allowing the pastor to continue the charade of being a man of God. 

But God does not turn

a blind eye.  The Bible repeatedly says so, and it says so quite harshly.

Why?  Because God does not have a mind to tolerate bullies, especially bullies who attack those who are less powerful than them. 

That was no consolation to her, though.  She managed to gather herself only to have the tears return.  I stayed silent.  Sometimes the ministry of presence is the most loving. 

When the sobs mercifully ran out and she could sit with only tears running gently down her face, I took her hands and held them.  I hated what I had to say next.

You will probably never be vindicated. 

She closed her eyes to fight back the anger I could see welling up.

Gently I explained that abuse is a monster who holds all of his or her people on a tight leash.  No one who speaks out remains, and no one who challenges the abuser is left without brutality.  It is the nature of the beast.  Total submission and utter control.

I squeezed her hands and took a deep breath.  Then I gave her the good news. God, time, acceptance, understanding, empathy and love will heal.   One day, after all the anger and denial and loneliness and wishing and ultimately forgiveness, she could figure out how to go forward.

I assured her, with all the promise I could muster, that it would indeed get better.

Why? 

Because God knows the truth. I also know the truth, and the both of us could validate her pain and help her recover.