Spiritual abuse has no place in a synodal Church, where respectful mutual relationships are integral, and the voices of lay people and the ordained are honoured equally, writes Good Samaritan Sister Patty Fawkner.
A few years back, I told a colleague that as a young Sister I was humiliated from the pulpit by a priest. “Would you call it spiritual abuse?” she asked. I didn’t know how to answer as I’d never heard that term nor thought about spiritual abuse.
You know how it is when you hear about something that’s unfamiliar to you and which captures your attention? Soon you begin hearing references to it in a multiplicity of contexts. This was my experience with the term ‘spiritual abuse’. Thankfully, there is increasing research into, and awareness of, this phenomenon which occurs across all religions.
There doesn’t seem to be any agreed upon definition of spiritual abuse, but descriptors share common elements of emotional or psychological harm, an abuse of power, and a pattern of coercive and controlling behaviour within a religious context.
It occurs to me that spiritual abuse has always been there in front of our very eyes, but we have failed to recognise it and name it.
Jesus repeatedly called out the spiritual abuse perpetrated by the religious leaders of his day because of their hypocrisy, distortion of the law and blatant injustice. “They tie up heavy burdens and lay them on people’s shoulders, but will they lift a finger to move them? Not they!” (Matthew 23:4)
Jesus’ exposure of spiritual abuse led to retribution by the Chief Priests, Scribes and Pharisees culminating in his execution.
Spiritual abuse can be subtle or blatant. A few examples reveal its extent and diversity.
When a parent uses God as a form of behaviour management, “God sees everything and will punish you if you …”, this is spiritual abuse.
When a husband quotes Scripture as a form of sexual coercion, it’s spiritual abuse.
When a religious cult leader – usually a seductive charismatic figure – demands absolute and unwavering obedience, that’s spiritual abuse.
When a faith leader counsels a woman to stay in an abusive relationship, spiritual, as well as emotional, physical and sexual abuse, comes into play.
The abuse of power, facilitated by a distorted understanding of the vow of obedience, is found in some religious congregations and in some lay-led ecclesial movements. Whereas the perpetrators of sexual abuse are overwhelmingly male, it appears that men and women in equal numbers are guilty of spiritual abuse.
’Cheap forgiveness’ can be spiritually abusive. I witnessed this in a neighbouring parish when members of the congregation were told that first and foremost they had to forgive their pastor who had been removed from the parish because of sexual and financial misconduct. There was no acknowledgement of the harm done, nor any call for accountability.
Many aspects of a catechesis from a former age have left us with spiritually abusive images of a vengeful God, hell-bent on judging and testing us. Such warped images can stubbornly lurk in our subconscious.
In rejecting such images, many people have walked away from the churches and faith tradition of their childhood.
This may not be seen as problematic in Australia’s highly secular culture, but being unmoored from one’s faith tradition and meaning-making system can be traumatic and hugely damaging. Spiritual abuse can lead to feelings of deep humiliation, shame, powerlessness and lack of self-worth.
How do we prevent spiritual abuse? How do we build a culture that is resistant to it? How can healing take place?
Mercifully, there is increasing research into such questions. Theologians, medical practitioners and ethicists such as Australian Dr Dan Fleming from St Vincent’s Health are collaborating to help identify ways in which the Church can encourage and support victim/survivors of spiritual abuse and provide treatment options.
I am no expert, but it seems to me that we can all do our bit. Prevention starts with me. I must examine my own conscience. Is there any way that I use spiritual or religious language as a means of coercion or manipulation of another?
It is vital that we break the silence about spiritual abuse and name it as such. “The beginning of wisdom,” Confucious claimed, “is to call things by their proper name.” Naming spiritual abuse makes it ’real’, enabling us to communicate about it and call it out. Naming gives life to the truth which “will set us free”.
I am grateful that I can name as spiritual abuse the humiliation I experienced when a priest mocked me from the pulpit. The simple act of naming the experience as such gives me some sense of agency which I did not have at the time.
However, ‘namers’ be warned! “If you expose a problem, you pose a problem: if you pose a problem, you become a problem.” So asserts British-Australian feminist scholar, Sara Ahmed. This has been the experience of whistle-blowers in every age, and those first brave people who went to Church authorities to report incidents of sexual abuse. In the main they were not believed. They were dismissed as troublemakers and ignored in order to uphold the reputation of the institution.
We must also be careful, so very careful, how we talk about God. Only the God revealed by Jesus Christ, a God who is compassionate, merciful and tender, a God who loves us lavishly, is worthy of our belief. This is the God we seek and proclaim.
Sexual abuse festered in an hierarchical Church. So too spiritual abuse. I believe that synodality as promoted by Pope Francis is a healthy antidote. Put simply, a synodal Church is a listening Church, where respectful mutual relationships are integral, and the voices of lay people are honoured equally alongside those of the ordained.
In a community of the discipleship of equals, Pope Francis says that there is no room for elitism and clericalism. He calls all Church members to respect the personal and spiritual freedom of all. Doing this will make a real contribution in countering the scourge of spiritual abuse.
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Editor’s note
Integrity in Our Common Mission is the primary code of conduct for clergy, religious and laity in the Catholic Church in Australia. Its principals have been developed to guide, form, strengthen and affirm those behaviours which are expected of all engaged in the ministries of the Church.
