We’re in the midst of a short series exploring themes of religious abuse and trauma. Last week, we identified the differences and relationships among abuse, adverse experiences, and trauma. As part of this, we saw that religious abuse was defined by “improper” use of religion, but also noted that what is “proper” and “improper” is often culturally defined and traditionally determined by the very religious authorities in question. Therefore, it’s hard to find objective criteria to determine what might be abusive behaviour from spiritual and religious authorities.
One helpful tool Dr. Anderson* and her team have developed to help with this is to adapt the Duluth Model’s Power and Control Wheel, a commonly-used tool used to describe the tactics used by perpetrators of domestic violence, to religious communities. Components of this adapted model include:
- Isolation: Demanding complete devotion to church activities, while cutting off outside relationships, devaluing outside input, and controlling information received
- Minimizing, Denying, and Blaming: Blaming individuals’ suffering or negative experiences on their own sin or lack of faith, while denying any wrongdoing by leadership
- Rigid Boundaries on Sexual and Gender Expression: Enforcing strict patriarchal hierarchies and “purity culture,” coupled with shaming, ostracism, and name-calling towards those who are perceived to deviate.
- Theological Abuse & Threats: Using fear-based theology and tactics, whether fear of divine wrath or ostracizing from community, to enforce compliance with established beliefs
- Economic Control: Pressuring extensive contributions to the community’s finances even in situations of poverty, or keeping members financially dependent on the church ecosystem for employment and housing.
- Loss of Autonomy & Indoctrination: Erasing critical thinking skills and replacing complexity with a strict binary mindset
- Emotional Abuse: Name-calling, undermining trust in self, manipulating and coercing (see the image on p.213 for a full description)
The point of the Duluth Model, whether applied to domestic or religious situations, is that abusive dynamics are inherently about control, and this control-seeking behaviour manifests in many ways within these relationships. What makes high-control religious groups so psychologically problematic is their identification of their own control with God’s will and eternal, everlasting truth. This in turn frees them from meaningful oversight or accountability; the very act of questioning or bringing an accusation against religious leadership is automatically a demonstration of unfaithfulness. This is why Dr. Anderson says that “systems built on dynamics of power and control are abusive at their core” (43) She goes on to say:
Many [high-control religions] teach that suffering, being persecuted, and enduring hardships are either God’s or the devil’s way of testing you. This teaching creates a dynamic of silencing and suspicion as individuals who speak out about the leader(s) are often considered to be gossiping, persecuting the leader, or trying to stir up drama as an act of spiritual warfare. Concerns are dismissed or silenced. (43)
To me the lack of accountability is the most dangerous aspect of all this. Where here is no truly independent way to address potentially abusive leadership, it’s just an open invitation to egomaniacs, control-freaks, and predators.
The question though once again comes down to who gets to decide what the proper exercise in authority looks like? Is simply enforcing community boundaries being high-control? I think a proper application of Anderson’s modified Duluth model would suggest we look at the whole system before making a determination. For example, in my own experience from being a member of the Eastern Orthodox Church, it was an intentionally traditional community that claimed a unique place and authority among Christian churches and enforced a more conservative understanding of gender, sex, and sexuality. But, it also actively engaged with outside ideas, looked for ways it could empower women to serve and minister within the canonical boundaries ascribed to them, and placed questions of queer identities within a larger framework that turned the asceticism and self-denial their teachings demanded of queer folk into a matter of degree rather than one of kind. So while such communities may not end up being a good fit long-term for queer persons, or women with a firm sense of calling to ordained ministry, I wouldn’t say their beliefs were inherently controlling and abusive. (In my specific situation, it was actually my priest who lovingly suggested I may need to step away from the community for my own health and wellbeing. Hardly controlling behaviour!)
What I like about this way of looking at religious abuse in terms of power and control is that, by looking at the opposites, we get a picture of what a healthy relationship, or community, might look like:
- Building connections with the wider world
- Accepting criticism and acknowledging people’s experiences
- Recognizing a broad understanding of human experience
- Creating a safe space, built on trust rather than fear
- Not demanding more than what people can reasonably give
- Encouraging questioning and curiosity
- Empowering individuals for their personal growth and service within the community
Not only is this a community I’d want to be a part of, it is also, at least in broad strokes, suggestive of the community of disciples that built up around Jesus in the Gospels. Jesus broke social and religious barriers in his ministry, took people and their experiences seriously, focused his teaching on God’s forgiveness and grace rather than fear-mongering, was happy to engage in good-faith theological questioning (and himself challenged received truths and traditions), and was all about empowering his followers to grow into their ‘best selves’, so to speak.
When it comes down to it, I’m increasingly convinced that the most controlling individuals or faith communities are not those with the most faith but the least. Needing to lord one’s power or authority over others is not a sign of strength, but of weakness. A real leader is able to lead by example and the natural authority that comes from earning rather than demanding respect.
While it’s still hard to tease out what is a proper or improper use of religious authority, I think Dr. Anderson’s modified Duluth Model offers a helpful way to approach to the question. At the end of the day, controlling behaviour is simply bad leadership, whether in a relationship, a religious community, or in society at large. We can do better and we all deserve better.
* All references, unless otherwise noted, are to Dr. Laura E. Anderson, When Religion Hurts You (Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2023).
