Tony Jones on Mark Driscoll: What came first, the thug or the theology?

Lost Voice – I hear you. I didn’t save my paper trail for the same reason. But that experience enables me to recognize the patterns in Mars Hill and Emergent lickety-split and then help encourage those like Julie who are speaking out to keep preachng it. That’s what broke forth the Mars Hill story – there was a serious shift from outsiders telling what was wrong with Mark’s theology, etc. to those whe had been impacted sharing ther stories. Made all the difference.

@naked pastor: Re: “The alleged abused end up whistling in the dark to the sound of crickets blending with just the voices of agreement. Some people would point to this conversation and say, ‘Just a bunch of whiners. It’ll whither away soon.’ I definitely don’t believe this is true, because this conversation has started something significant. I’m not sure what yet, but that will become apparent soon I think.”

This resonates with me, David. Whether or not abusers own up to the abuse, apologize publicly or privately, or even take a moment to seriously reflect upon their past and present behaviors, something significant does occur when the evil deeds of darkness are brought into the light.

I believe that “this significant thing” occurs within the abused and mostly for the benefit of the abused. It takes strength to speak up and out when you have been battered, shamed, devastated, belittled, embarrassed, threatened, etc. It takes an enormous amount of courage to speak into a very public venue when you are accustomed to having every action, word, personality trait, and even idea quickly, harshly, and repeatedly attacked. Many significant things can happen through the brave act of speaking your truth (as I have learned through my own experiences as both the receiver and, unfortunately, the giver of emotional and spiritual abuse).

At first, when you find and use your voice, you feel empowered. There is an almost otherworldly relief in discovering that telling your story does not incur lightning from Heaven! You have been conditioned to believe that what you say, think, and feel counts for nothing—yet, because you have been threatened and warned and cautioned to shut up, you suspect that there is some kind of deadly power in your truth. You think that if you tell the secret, you will die. You finally can’t help it and shout out the truth. Of course, you don’t die. But your self-shame and self-loathing, and sometimes the power of the abuser, get a quick glimpse of the Grim Reaper. And when you realize that He’s working for you and with you, on behalf of the truth, your confidence builds.

Then, depending upon the response you do receive, you feel validated or invalidated. And there is almost always increased personal growth in either case. You finally can relax into the nurture and comfort of a safe space if you are validated. You feel an exciting sense of satisfaction at hearing that you are not the only one; you are actually heard and UNDERSTOOD. This creates a wonderful sense of community, increased compassion and trust, but it can also create new personal challenges related to genuine intimacy for one who has for so long been denied true relationship.

And in the opposite scenario, should you receive invalidation, several things may occur. You may be triggered right back into your “victim state” with all of its sadness and isolation. You might feel angry or righteously indignant that the Grim Reaper doesn’t appear willing to finish the job and take out the abuser. You might feel even more liberated with less inclination to back down because you now see that whatever the abuser does, it doesn’t matter to you anymore. You might become our own version of the Grim Reaper wielding a sharp sickle and swinging wide. What the abuser thinks doesn’t really matter to you anymore. What the abuser does becomes almost comical in a way. You don’t care; you just come at the abuse, swinging hard.

Each affirmation of truth builds the muscles of your identity; in a short time, you have developed some six-pack abs on what formerly felt like a flabby yellow belly and you feel like having learned to take care of you, you can now stand up for others too. Sometimes you become hellbent on preventing further abuse—in a way that may seem obnoxious to some who have not been on the receiving end of abuse, but is seen as necessary by those who know the pain of being forced into shadowy corners.

Sometimes, with the passage of time and deeper reflection, you might realize that what you were so sure of in terms of how you framed your past abuse, has become a little less clear. In my own case (and in no way am I saying that this is true for Julie or any other person who has been hushed up, tangled up or fucked up by an abusive system or a specific person), as I spoke my truth out loud to trusted friends and even a few strangers and unwitting passersby and heard their responses, I realized that I had formerly seen only part of the truth. My truth—in all of its glorious validity for me at the time—was a much smaller part of a much bigger truth. The significance for me in such instances, was that I was given the opportunity to forgive my abusers, the observers who stood by and did nothing, and yes, even myself. Seeing the larger picture forced me to struggle with the concepts of repentance, forgiveness, and redemption.

Like you, David, I believe that this post and lengthy comment thread is only the beginning of significant change. I’m SO grateful that you have allowed this conversation to flow unimpeded and that you have attempted as blog moderator to allow every voice to contribute to significant change. We are all blessed to get that powerful glimpse of the Reaper (perhaps incorrectly labeled “Grim”) and to see the amazing action of a sickle harvesting what is ready to be cut and clearing a space for, hopefully, even better crops.

Thank you, Julie! I friended you (I think that’s you anyways).

Shannon, thank you for adding your story to this collection. I am sorry that your Pastor did not hold your story as they should have. I like that you are listening to your truth when it tells you this does not feel right. I invite you and anyone else looking for a safe refuge to join the on line community here with David Hayward the Naked Pastor, The Lasting Supper. You will be warmly welcomed. Lost voice (found here) you too! The support in there is something special. A place to heal. Also, friend me on FB I am starting a NPD survivors group in the Twin Cities. There is nothing currently out there for us.

In some ways weighing in at this point of the game is a little daunting, but I have read almost all of the posts. Despite the many posts already, I feel like I have a few things to contribute to the conversation.
Julie- For the sake of disclosure, I am outing myself as a person who has survived a narcissistic spouse, relational violence and divorce. I would never want to co-opt your story and your pain. I hope that I can write this without doing that. I am so proud of you for being able to voice your truth and to do it even though you know that there are those who don’t get it and those who are still trying to discredit you. I am also proud of you for being able to support your children and take care of yourself while going through substantial litigation which resulted in both financial difficulties and was probably emotionally traumatic.

I know going through the custody process with my narcissist was hell. Mine lasted two years, during which we were assigned a custody advisor who analyzed both mine and my exes’ parenting skills and collected lots of personal and private information. This is not a process that the state of MN takes lightly and they are generally adamant that fathers continue to have visitation and share legal custody of their children. Actually, despite my having a protective order against my ex and being afraid for my own and my child’s safety, I was required to allow my ex to have visitation. I was even being pushed to try mediation. I declined knowing that mediation with a narcissist is never fruitful! For awhile my mother chaperoned the visitations until the school counselor informed CPS that my kid had reported being abused by my ex. Even though the custody evaluator was aware of this situation and compliant with the recommendations of CPS, she chewed me out and told me that she thought I was trying to discourage a relationship between my child and my child’s dad.

In the end, after much stalling my ex ran out of money for legal representation and had to defend himself in the final trial. All this to say that I believe your account of the divorce and custody proceedings and I know that if you got custody of your kids that you deserved it and your ex must have serious issues for things to go so “badly” for him. I consider my custody fight to be a pretty serious ordeal, but the public records of your divorce/custody proceedings are 3 times as long as mine (I looked them up before the link was posted). The only reason that I share my story is that people have no idea how difficult the custody process is and how much judges and custody advisors want to preserve the father/child relationship, even it puts the mother and children at risk to future harm from the abuser. I am glad your kids are doing well and seeking counseling to deal with having to continue to expose themselves to emotional abuse. This is a testimony to your parenting and to your care of them.

Before I escaped my abusive ex I was part of a church plant in the Twin Cities that was deeply involved in the ideas and philosophies of the emergent church movement, even though they did not name themselves as such because of being part of an evangelical denomination. My ex pastor liked to name drop some of the bigger names in the movement who he knew in some capacity. Before my ex left, my pastor was involved in covering up that my ex had stalked a woman and was pursuing several young women in the congregation. I had no knowledge of either of these things, but I had discovered salacious emails to several women. The confrontation I had with my ex over these emails accelerated my exe’s abuse and this precipitated the end of our relationship.

When I went to my pastor in search of pastoral care, he told me about my ex pursuing other women in the church. No steps had been taken to protect the woman who was stalked and she was discouraged from going to the police. This “pastoral care” just added salt to my wound. I continued attending this church for about 18 months after this mostly because there were still a few people in the church that were my support system. The support lessened as I pressed the pastor for a resolution or apology for how he handled things. I’m not sure if the pastor bad-mouthed me, but it seemed that people started to avoid me. I left quietly, like a good Minnesotan. No one wanted to know why I left. I tried out a few churches in the same denomination, but church felt like a scary place to be. Church should be a safe place, but it was no longer a safe place to me. It was a place that harbored abusers and evicted victims. Two years ago I gave up trying and took a year off church. I saw a counselor and feel like I healed a lot that year. I made some friends who were supportive and although many of them are Christians they supported me in my churchless phase.

A year ago a friend asked me to attend church with her and I opened myself to the possibility of trusting a pastor and church family again. I promised myself that I wouldn’t fully participate in a church unless the pastor or a significant staff member could listen to my story and offer me compassion. I was getting ready to have that conversation soon. Unfortunately (or fortunately) I no longer need to have that conversation because I am certain that my story would not be heard due to comment that were made by this person in response to Julie way early on in this discussion. I cannot function under or alongside a pastor who would allow Julie to be treated this way. Thank you Julie for sharing your story, which allowed me to recognize some signs that I had been trying to ignore and to get out now.