Grief through Spiritual Abuse – by Kimalee Finelli

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The pain that one feels from a traumatic religious experience is not something that magically evaporates over time. The wounds run deep and are easily triggered by even the simplest surroundings. Triggers might include a worship song or mis-placed scripture quote. They could also be a church rule or threatened disciplinary action. Maybe even something so heinous that one can hardly speak of it due to the torment that follows. Grief settles in and finds a home.

                 How does grief relate to religious trauma? Grief is a multi-stage process: Denial, anger, bargaining, sadness, and acceptance. At first, we may recoil in shock as we become aware that something that isn’t right with a church or church leader. We justify it by thinking we may have misinterpreted the situation or just over-reacted. But now, we are paying attention, and another situation has arisen. Our anger sparks action, yet the church leader is not one to be reasoned with. It isn’t long before we feel defeated, alone, and depressed. We wait to see what happens, but in the end, nothing changes. With profound sadness, we accept the truth.

            My own grief journey began at the young age of thirteen. The pastor began preaching a sermon that seemed so preposterous, I decided I was mistaken at what I heard. After all, I was just a kid. I must have misheard him. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions. Guilt set in quickly from the thought of judging the Pastor- the Man of God. And then, I began noticing more and more instances of the Pastor twisting scripture to fit his agenda. As my anger mounted, I watched as others noticed, too. Some even dared to question his authority but were met with swift church discipline. My own sadness for those who were cast out of the fellowship turned into acceptance that nothing would change. The Pastor reigned supreme over his congregation who followed him– a trail of fear in their wake.

            Grief doesn’t stop there.

            Loss mingles with the ashes of grief. Loss is like an old, abandoned building. Each room lies dark and void. Room after empty room; reminders of the life it once held are now lost. One room might have contained a family. A once-happy family has now been split apart because of trauma. The next room represented the church. But the church is now gone as they have been instructed to separate from those who follow the iniquities of the world rather than the teachings of the church leader. Another room echoes memories of a past reality and even on the hardest of days—we clung to fleeting moments of happiness. But now all that is visible is emptiness. The sting of losing all we once held dear and poured our hearts into brings feelings of intense emotional pain. Loss winds its way to the next room in which lies the uncertainty of a future not yet written. When I left the church as a young adult, I knew I was saying goodbye to friends I had known since I was a small child. I mourned the loss of their friendships. I grieved over saying goodbye to the only life I had ever known. Where did I go from here?

            I began to explore Jesus. No, not the angry God that the preacher pounded the pulpit about. The TRUE Jesus. Who was he? Did he love me? Did he see me? Was I so lost, I could never be found?

            The answers I discovered filled me with anticipation. The true Jesus loved me unconditionally! I didn’t have to try to win his love or earn his blessings. He was not standing by with judgment and damnation for the slightest misstep. God wanted me to come to him just as I was. Broken, but alive. God promised to never leave me or forsake me. God promised to renew my strength. God promised his love to me. God gave me grace.

            And hope began.

            Hope arises from true acceptance of God’s promises. The Bible contains approximately 8,000 promises. These covenants are his gift to us. We did not have to do anything to earn them. Jesus simply told us that whoever believes in him will have eternal life. He asked us to bring our burdens to him and lay them at his feet, and he will give us rest. God promises that he will wipe away our tears, there will be no more pain, nor sorrow, nor crying. This means God is bigger and more powerful than our past trauma. Jesus already knows our life choices we have made—good or bad.

            God is greater than our grief. Our past religious trauma cannot hold us, as we worship the one true Jesus- not a man.

Let healing begin.

Kimalee Finelli is a cult survivor and author of the book, Under Authority, available at Amazon and www.kimaleefinelli.com.