In the House of Friends

Understanding and Healing from Spiritual Abuse in Christian Churches

Kenneth J. Garrett

• Publisher: Wipf and Stock
• Year: 2020
• ISBN:
  9781725266049
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Christian Ministry

There is a place that promises acceptance, spiritual growth, and friendship, but instead delivers criticism, abuse, and exploitation. A place that declares marriages will be strengthened, treasured, and protected, but instead weakens, diminishes, and marginalizes them. A place that claims to obey the word of God, but in practice weaponizes the word against those who disagree or doubt. A place where the good news of a tenderhearted, loving Savior is blurred by leaders who are controlling, traumatizing, and self-serving. A place that calls loudly to the storm-tossed at sea, only to lure them to the rocks where they flounder and fall apart. A place that appeared to be a house of friendship but was a place of betrayal.That place might be a Christian church. It might be a cult. It is probably both.In the House of Friends: Understanding and Healing from Spiritual Abuse in the Christian Church is written for survivors of abusive churches, their families and friends, and all who want to understand spiritual abuse and help the abused. Dr. Garrett is a long-term pastor of a diverse, urban congregation and combines personal experience, sound academic research, and pastoral theology to address a poorly understood, rarely admitted problem today--spiritual abuse in Christian churches.

Chapter 1

Cults and Churches . . .

My partner and I were driving in our ambulance down a street in Portland, having just completed a call. We picked up on our pre-call conversation, which was me sharing with her about my experience of membership in a small, fundamentalist, high-control, nasty little church—my nasty little Bible church. I told her of betrayed friendship, marriages, unprotected children, estranged relatives and non-church fiends, constant pressure to give more time, more money, more loyalty, more, more, more, of everything—over to the church.

“Well, thank the Lord you weren’t in a cult, anyway. That would have only made things worse.”

“How so?” I asked. “I mean, how would things have been worse?”

“Well,” she continued, “on top of all the behaviors, sins, trouble with law, alienation from family and pressure—it would have been even worse if you’d been involved in a group with a weird, cultish theology, like the Moonies, or the Mormons, or Krishnas, or those poor people down in Waco, or in Jonest—”

“Yeah, I get it,” I said. “At least we were Christian, right.”

“Right! At least you were Christian, so you know you have the power of God to help you heal and help your family recover. And, at least your church taught the Bible and believed in Jesus. When it all comes down to it, that’s what counts. Does a church believe in the Bible, and Jesus, or do they not. That’s the whole ball of wax, right there. If a church has those two things, it cannot be a cult. It might be a lot like a cult, even cultish, but not a cult.”

“By this you know the Spirit of God, that every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come—”

“—in the flesh” my friend interrupted. “In the flesh, Ken.”

She continued, “You see, Ken, everyone who does not confess Jesus is simply not from God. Not . . . from . . . God. As horrible as your church sounds like it got—did it ever deny the divinity or the humanity of Jesus Christ?”

“No,” I answered. “Never. I’ve always been clear on that, and never really wondered if I, or that church, was Christian. I just never thought of it as being like a cult, and I’m starting to question why it’s so important to us that we describe horrible churches as being like a cult, cult-like—and seem so intent on preserving some shred of legitimacy, some dignity, when we describe churches that are obviously cultic. It’s almost like we think Christianity itself would somehow fall from some lofty state if it had to admit that it had been infiltrated by leaders who built churches, and took over churches, and made them more cults than churches.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Kenny. You’re opening the door to the idea that a cult is a place where people are treated badly, but you’re not referring to its beliefs, at least not overtly. Do you think a group can deny Christian doctrine, even Jesus himself, and the Bible, and call itself a church?!”

“I don’t know. I’m spending more time these days wondering how a church that acts like a cult can somehow argue that it’s not a cult. Maybe it’s both. Christian and cult. A Christian cult.”

“Ken, I don’t think that’s possible.”

“I know. But it happened. It happened to me.”

The final project for my doctor of ministry degree, “Spiritual Abuse in the Church: A Guide to Recognition and Recovery,” has three chapters devoted to the question of whether or not an unhealthy, hurtful church that abuses its members should simply be called a cult. I wrote of the history of cultic studies and drew the distinctions between a Christian church or group that hurts its members and a non-Christian group that abuses its members—and is generally thought of as a cult.

But as my studies progressed, I observed that from a functional standpoint, there is no great difference at all between the Christian church that ostensibly holds to sound, orthodox beliefs and the most far-out, bizarre (to me, anyway) cult. One might be more tied down with moralistic, straight-jacketed rules and traditions than the other—but both exercise a soul-crushing subjugation of members. Both are usually led by the same sort of narcissistic, autocratic leaders who are clever, persuasive, and charismatic. Both, without exception, are emotionally diseased. Both promise heaven but deliver hell. Both direct the attention of members to the eternal promises of abundant blessings, peace, and power, while their day-to-day experience becomes one of breathless busyness, emotional fatigue, fracturing marriages and families, depleting bank accounts, and spiritual starvation. Both are horrible places for families and children.

I recall my Christian friends and family visiting the small church that Sharon and I had joined. They evaluated our doctrine as being sound, and pretty much what they understood to be orthodox. They commented that our commitment to live as followers of Jesus was admirable, even a clear indication of our conviction. We were living out what we believed: active in Bible study, church activities and classes, and in speaking of our faith to those who did not share it.

However, though our family and friends were experienced, mature Christians, none of them considered joining our church. None of them ever recommended the church to their friends or other family members. They eventually shared with us their unease with the church’s excessive demands on the time and resources of our young marriage and growing family. They timidly mentioned the changes they’d noted in us—changes for which they suspected the church was responsible. And they were right: We were quickly becoming intolerant, moralistic prigs, eagerly exercising what seemed a spiritual gift of ruining every family gathering we attended. As years passed, they also noted the inevitable religious burnout that we suffered as we turned into self-indulgent, depressed, and dissipated wrecks. But they struggled in using the word cult to describe us. The furthest they would go was to say, “You almost seem to act like you’re in a cult, Kenny.” That “C” word is powerful but poorly defined, and, in the minds of many, never to be suggested of a Christian church.

I believe this reticence to consider that a Christian church could actually be a cult (with good doctrine, nonetheless!) continues. Often, our limited understanding of the qualities of a cult have not served us well to recognize those dynamics in unexpected contexts. I use the term abusive church in this book to describe the hurtful, malignant churches that I describe. I do this because I’m not really interested in pushing anyone into a corner to admit, “OK, Ken; I was in a cult.” But make no mistake: When I write of abusive churches, I am at the very least describing churches that treat their members in a destructive, cultic manner. They are cults disguised as churches, or churches that have become cults.

Chapter 2

Spiritual Abuse . . . in the Bible?

Do you think the Bible is full of sanctified saints who lived spotless lives, walked 18 inches off the ground before they died and went to heaven, where they inherited golden harps and reserved seats on a heavenly clouds? Think again. TMZ, the National Enquirer, the internet, and any other gossip source haven’t got a thing on the sins, foibles, and missteps of the people of God as described in the Bible. Its pages are replete with accounts of betrayal, swindling, lying, violence, political intrigue, marriage troubles, and moral compromise, and they leave little to the imagination. Alongside these brutal and often salacious sins are numerous accounts of the misuse of power in which bullying, unscrupulous leaders take advantage of well-intentioned, religious-minded folks. Let’s consider a few examples.

Hophni and Phineas were two sons of Eli, the high priest of Israel. They served in the tabernacle-shrine of the nation, located in a small village called Shiloh. Taking advantage of their family’s position in the religious life of Israel, the sons routinely stole the sacrifices brought by their fellow Israelites who came to worship at Shiloh. Instead of offering the choice meat brought to the tabernacle to be offered up in worship, Hophni and Phineas took the meat home for themselves. Instead of receiving valuable gifts of support for the tabernacle ministry—they stole them. And they also slept with the women who volunteered to assist in the tabernacle worship rituals and services. They used their religi...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• Foreword
• Prologue: Why I Am Here
• Chapter 1: Cults and Churches . . .
• Chapter 2: Spiritual Abuse . . . in the Bible?
• Chapter 3: Abusive Pastors—How They Tick, How They Talk
• Chapter 4: Who Would Ever Join an Abusive Church?
• Chapter 5: Inside the Abusive Church
• Chapter 6: Let the Healing Begin!
• Chapter 7: When the Walking Wounded Walk into Church
• Chapter 8: The Pastor as a Safe Shepherd
• Chapter 9: The Safe Church
• Chapter 10: Some Final Thoughts for Family and Friends . . .
• Epilogue: Why I Am Here Again
• Bibliography and further reading