It’s the kind of story that’s something of an embarrassment to me. I’ve shared it with very few people. My only excuse for getting myself into the situation was that I was young and was naïve. I didn’t know that this kind of thing happened.
About forty years ago, I agreed to live in a Franciscan friary and retreat center. I was not a Franciscan but was interested in the combination of retreat work and social justice outreach which took place through this center. I didn’t recognize that the priest-in-charge was spiritually abusive. There were clear signs that I should have recognized. For instance, one priest lived there who was an alcoholic. The priest-in-charge forbade him from socializing with us or sharing in the common meals. He could join us for prayer but nothing more. There was also a woman who lived in the community who had bouts of severe depression. The condition for living there was that the priest-in-charge had to be her counselor. While he had a master’s degree in counseling, for him to be her counselor was nothing less than unethical. Not surprisingly, she committed suicide. Following her death, there was no discussion of what occurred. We acted like she was simply gone…or perhaps had never been there.
I remember when I left. I agreed to be the cook for a weekend retreat. It was the last event of the season. The priest-in-charge, who essentially couldn’t boil water, decided to make the menu for the weekend. Not only was it unhealthy but it required extra shopping when the pantry had other supplies to make perfectly good meals. Trying to balance his menu with the supplies on hand to save money, I made a pasta dish with the noodles in the pantry rather than the shape he preferred. He was livid. He called me aside and told me that I was disobedient for not following his authority as the priest-in-charge. I explained my rationale. It didn’t matter. He began to yell, telling me that my disobedience was endangering my salvation. For me, that was the final straw. I told him off in no uncertain terms, packed my bags, loaded my car, and drove off. That was the end.
Many people experience spiritual abuse. It’s something most people don’t expect when they become involved with a religious or spiritual group or organization. Probably much like me, many people are attracted to what they see as something good and promising. People who attended retreats at this center had profound spiritual experiences. In addition, the work that was done for the rural poor helped to change lives. But all that good work was undermined by a man who truly believed that he spoke for God. He manipulated people and belittled them while wrapping it all in eloquent religious language. The damage to people was very real.
Spiritual abuse can happen in a religious organization or when one works with an individual spiritual teacher. Abusers demand allegiance by their followers and a high level of respect. Abusers cultivate the belief that only they have answers to spiritual questions. Spiritual abusers create an atmosphere of fear and shame while also creating a sense that they and their followers are better than other people. Abusers find ways to shield themselves from criticism and are not accountable to others.
It’s often difficult for people to break free from spiritual abuse. I lived with it for two years before I realized that the situation was truly sick. I couldn’t name it as “abuse” when it was happening. Over time, it became clear to me that it was a seriously abusive situation. About ten years ago, I read that the priest-in-charge had died. I was overcome with a mix of feelings: anger, anxiety, frustration, and a deep darkness in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t seen this man in thirty years. Yet, that experience of abuse still had hold of me. I journaled and wrote about what I was experiencing. I also used time in meditation to allow the deep feelings to come up so that I could release them. In time, I was able to experience compassion both for myself and for this abusive man who must have been so severely wounded himself that he brought harm to others.
Recently, someone asked me about forgiveness. He was wondering if he had really forgiven someone from a past hurt. He asked me what was the event in my life was the most difficult to forgive. The priest-in-charge came to mind immediately. I realize now that I trusted the goodness I saw in that community and ignored the signs of serious harm being done. I didn’t see the harm until I was becoming a victim of abuse myself. The idiocy of the priest-in-charge claiming that using different noodles from his menu was a sign of my disobedience made it clear that it was a crazy situation. Within hours, I was gone.
Many people experience much greater spiritual abuse than I did. Having worked with former members of cults, I know the deep struggles people can experience. For most people, it’s embarrassing to admit that they trusted an abusive charlatan. Yet, when we are hoping for the best, we can make mistakes in judgments. Ultimately, it’s critical for all of us who seek to follow a spiritual path to be on guard against those who harm others and to call them to accountability. It doesn’t matter whether the person is a religious figure or an independent teacher. The ethical care of others should be evident in interactions with all religious leaders and spiritual teachers. When it isn’t, follow my example: pack your bags and leave immediately.
Photo source: Foter.com CCO 10 Universal
A cautionary tale.
Indeed!
Thanks, John.
Lou