When my brother died, my first reaction was: “What are we going to do with his clothes?” I was twelve and sitting with my mother on the velvet loveseat in the room you go into only when company comes. She’d sat me down when I woke up that morning to tell me my nineteen year old brother had died overnight from the injuries he’d suffered in a one-car crash the week before. “God took Nathaniel*,” she said. What I felt overwhelmingly upon hearing the news was… relief. I was glad he was dead. I couldn’t tell my mother or father that. I couldn’t tell anyone that. But I was hugely relieved. Why? Because my brother had been sexually abusing me for years.
I have vivid memories of being dragged up the stairs — him pulling me by my arms as my heels hit each stair — to his room on the Saturday nights my parents would insist he babysit for me when they went out with friends. I’ve blocked a good deal of it out, but I have flashes of memory and they are horrible, that’s all I’ll say here because for the purposes of this piece, that’s enough.
His death, indeed his life, severely impacted my relationship with God, and what happened to me on my way to healing has permanently ruined my relationship with the Catholic Church.
In my twelve year old mind, you had to love God or why bother trying so hard to be good? And how could I love a God who had brought this much pain to my family? This logical prison was no doubt due to my (high-functioning) autism, which, as you likely know, comes with rigid thinking. (It’s hard for us to break out of logic prisons. Or at least what seems logical to us.) And God had hurt my parents, whom I loved.
Later, having developed some of the self-esteem that comes with maturity along with it’s accompanying self-awareness, I concluded that I couldn’t love a God who would let me be so hurt the way my brother had hurt me for so many years. Further, I couldn’t love a God who would leave a young girl feeling so guilty for feeling so relieved her tormentor was dead. The whole thing was one big jumble of love and guilt and shame. So much shame.
I’ve turned sixty recently, and my parents are now dead. You’d think, by now, I might have found my way back to God, and I have, mostly, just not to any church. I have a deep, almost visceral belief in a grand design, in a single, omnipotent force for good, father-like, which birthed the universe and all its inhabitants. It’s all just too perfect. The way this all knits together is just too wondrous; there’s so much beauty, so much good in the world that I find it inconceivable that there wasn’t a divine architect. But the Catholic Church? Especially now, given what we now know about widespread priest abuse**? How could I possibly return? It’s… illogical to me.
But that’s just one church. A church, any church, is a man-made construct. This has left me adrift. I recoil at the “my way or the highway” blackmail of “the only way to heaven is through Jesus.” I don’t like extortionist nature of that, and it keeps me out of a lot of churches. Because what about the Hindus? The Buddhists? I just can’t believe that great swaths of humanity will be denied the Glory of Eternal Life because their path to God, to our Supreme Being, wasn’t this or that particular man-made “brand.” And you’ll never convince me that churches aren’t exactly that: brands. And if they’re all just that, then you’ll never convince me to fear for my eternal soul just because some man says so. You can see the box, the logic prison I’m in, at least the way my mind works, the way I’ve constructed this.
But I envy those with faith and a spiritual home to express it. If you have it, if you have a church, I envy you. I’ve been wandering in the spiritual wilderness since I was twelve and I’d love to come “home.” I just keep hitting brick walls with “woke” or the “my way or the highway” extortion I mentioned or some other man-made embellishment to this or that faith community that is noxious or frivolous to me. And while I will read the comments this piece will surely bring in, and appreciate the invitations to this church or that, please know that it’s my trust tank is pretty low on these matters. I just wanted all of you, with an active faith and spiritual home, to know that I envy you. That not all who wander, are, as they say, lost, at least completely. Maybe they’re just like me; a believer without a brand. And maybe that’s my destiny. And if it is, I pray I’ll meet my Maker with a full and grateful heart and get to be happy in His Presence one day. Right now? It’s for others, it seems.
*Nathaniel was not his real name.
**Re: the priest abuse scandal: I was a minor victim. My mother had recommended I go see the family priest, who had been to our home many times for Sunday dinners, to help me with the “trouble” I was having grieving my brother (in my mother’s estimation.). So I went. I had actually thought I might share with him what my late brother did to me. But the first time I was there, he hugged me so incredibly hard I couldn’t escape when I pulled back. This happened just a couple more times before I concluded it wasn’t just an accident and it was becoming scary. Gotta love the irony, right? I think I might finally confide in a priest about abuse and he himself is abusive. His face ended up on the cover of my local paper as one of the priests who was caught up in the scandal, due to his far more serious interactions with others, not me.
As a final note: I have never told anyone about what happened with the priest until… just now. Just as I have never told anyone outside my husband and children what my brother did to me until… just now. It was time. Past time. And I couldn’t think of a better group of people to share with than the thoughtful readers of American Thinker.
God bless you all.
Your story hit a nerve with me . It was “Wow , finally someone else too ” . I grew up with two alcoholic parents who had myself and my siblings living in poverty. Yet they remained Catholic I guess in some desperate hope that God would grant them entrance despite their their wavering between sobering episodes of violence and alcoholic indifference. The result was sending children into a Catholic world where priests ,nuns and teachers easily spotted the great unwashed among them and realized those parents who had nothing financially to contribute . In Grade Four the teacher had a donation jar that went up every row on Friday afternoon. The row that donated the most got to leave early. My row never got to leave early because I never had anything to contribute. The result was the singling out by all others in the class and the need to have to fight almost every boy in the class.
One cold December my Dad had disappeared for over a week as usual and we had nothing in the house to eat . My Dad’s way of housing us was to rent a house but never pay light or heating bills and then wait until we were evicted and had to move on. On a cold December evening my mother sent me to ask the priests in the local rectory for help. I knocked on the rectory door and explained our plight to the priest and his response was simply ” Go away” and closed the door. We lived in that poverty until my younger brother site fire to the house and my older brother put it out however the Fire Dept were alerted. When they arrived they found no father around , a mother passed out on her bed and a house dark and cold. This resulted in me , eight years old at the time , being raised in foster homes for the next ten years.
I had discarded the notion that the Catholic Church cared for anyone who had no money and that was reinforced by acts like the movie Angela’s Ashes written by a wonderful writer Frank McCourt ; I read all his books.
Finally in college I studied Comparative Religions for two years and a wonderful professor who had been a chaplain on a Navy warship during the war and had the pleasure of audiences with the Pope and Dali Lama said ” Trust only the words of Jesus and trust not the institutions of man “. As a result I have stayed away from the Church yet lead a life that Jesus might approve – had a career dedicated to helping people , got married and have remained married for 43 years, raised six kids of whom five are married with kids of their own. There is a church one block from my house and I have walked by it many times including a Sunday mornings and the desire ( curiosity ) to go inside wells up from time to time . The thought of going to confession and saying ” Bless me Father for I have sinned little and it has been 55 years since my last confession “. That day hasn’t arrived and I don’t know when it will .
Oh Don, God bless you. I’m so glad your life turned out okay. I wouldn’t wish how you grew up on anyone. Again, God bless you sir.
Dear Mr. Walter:
I can’t begin to imagine what it must have been like to be so abused by a sibling and then betrayed by clergy, my sincere regrets for your torment. My situation was indifferent parents and life’s responsibilities that turned me into a bitter drunk.
My wife and I were Episcopalian. I served at the Altar and we tithed thousands of dollars. The “church” took an enormous turn to the left in ordaining an openly gay “man” who abandoned his family in favor of a relationship with another man to the position of bishop.
I was outed as a conservative and subsequently endlessly harassed. I was propositioned for sex in the church’s sacristy by one of the “church’s beloved flamers.
We quit the “church” forthwith and I contacted the then presiding bishop, Catherine Jefferts Schori to notify her of my decision to renounce my confirmation – but not my faith.
One member asked “how can you leave your church”? Ma’am, I replied, I didn’t leave the church, the “church” left me.
Being surrounded with outspoken doubters in the congregation I felt compelled to study Christ’s crucifixion, death and resurrections *in defense* of Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of The Christ* in principle to the “believers” in this so-called “church”. The “church” was nothing more than a piss-poor social club with boring music.
Mr. Walter, I had to learn the hard (and costly way) that ancient buildings, pipe organs and stained glass windows do not faith make. My faith is rooted in a deep and personal one-on one relationship with Jesus Christ – that relationship has made a difference in our lives.
I sincerely hope you find peace in this life though a personal relationship with Jesus Christ in this life.
Scott
What a bitter experience. I’m so sorry to hear of it. I, too, am a sober alcoholic. It will be 21 years in April. God bless you sir and thank you for your kind wishes.
I read your piece on American Thinker. I can’t even imagine what goes through the mind of a sexually abused child. And these days it seems to be a common theme throughout the world. I’m a 74-year-old recovering Catholic as my parents were. We were essentially taught that if we didn’t have a priest absolve our confessed sins regularly, we would spend eternity burning in hell. Now, I completely agree with your opinions on “churches” in general. They ALL have certain cultish features & expectations. The internet has allowed me to research the great “God” mystery that has haunted me most my life. Right now, my belief system is as refreshed as ever about the true nature/mystery of God, Jesus, & the Holy Spirit. My main earthly ‘shepherd’ now is Keven Winder. He has PhD in theology and ethics and served for over 25 years in some form of church or parachurch ministry. In 2012 he took his ministry online where it has grown to serve thousands of people in a number of countries. Right now, he offers Weekly Biblical ‘sermons’ that always gives me a renewed lease on hope. He NEVER asks for a dime for his work. Check him out, nothing to lose. https://thriveinexile.com/
Than you for your eloquent testamony. It was the shocking moment where you revealed you were a young girl during your years of sibling abuse that I literally dropped my phone. I can relate, to the extent that I was dyslexic and raised with an older brother who was violently schizophrenic and who tormented his family with unprovoked rages. I have forgiven, which is salutary, but have wondered who it was that I was actually forgiving, since I think his god-given soul had fled long before he expired. Yes, I do believe in demonic infestation. Now entering my seventh decade, I am finding the pursuit of piety to be a natural priority, and I’ve come to realize that Jesus the martyr didn’ t choose his life in order to relate to our human condition, but so that we could relate to him. That’s the father he represents, and I will entreet that you receive his vivid consolation. As the people are often wont to say in my adopted rural SC, “Have a blessed day.”
So very sorry to learn of your terrible childhood and awful experience the with church.
There are quite a few of people like you who were family hurt and church hurt. A terrible situation. I have a good friend with a story of abuse from a father and then her pastor husband. She is part of a larger group that seeks healing and she has, after about 50 years, recovered a lot of her self. If you would like a link to the group to investigate for yourself, or would like her contact info, please email me.
These days there are a lot of committed Christians who are not part of any organized church. The statistics usually miss us. But this has been going on for some years. The first notice of it in any kind of print was a book, “Church Refugees” by Josh Packard and Ashleigh Hope. Another writer on the topic is Wayne Jacobsen, a former minister in CA. Two of his books that might be appropriate are “He Loves Me” and “So You Don’t Want to Go to Church Anymore” (co-written with his friend Dave Coleman). I’ve met Wayne in person, and have built some friendship with him over the years.
I’m a former minister myself. I went to a conservative Bible college (Class of ’72) and was in ministry for about 10 years. I left ministry because I had learned that being in ministry tended to go to a person’s head–their pride gets wrapped around their church position, and while for some it just makes them too puffed up about their eloquence in the pulpit, for too many it wrecks them as a person. I saw it happen to a friend of mine in six months; and I saw signs it was starting in me. I got out of it. I did keep attending churches for years, but anymore I’ve given up on that. I’ve been “de-churched” most of the time since 2009.
I read your Religion piece and it was deep Thank you for writing. I never respond with comments but am here. Keep looking, He will find you. You don’t have to find Him just be honestly looking. “seek and ye shall find, knock and it shall be opened unto you”. Is this article the knocking?
Respectfully,
Thank you for your personal story. I don’t have one like yours. In fact, I’ll be 90 years old in a few days; a widower. I was not going to comment but I could not get your story out of my head, so here goes. You and I and everybody else are imperfect human beings – living in the physical world (as oppose to spiritual). So here we are existing and dealing with each other in various situations. Some good and some not so good and some awful. So, being imperfect, I will not be able to provide the right answer about church, forgiveness, heaven, etc. But the right answers are available. I read the bible. Everything is in there. It was written by men who were supernaturally inspired by the grand designer of the universe. It even says so and names names. I agree with you about the perfectly arranged grand design. That was not done physically. Personally, I do not have any hesitation with “the only way to heaven is through Jesus.” Because that is what it says. I’m not only a believer in the grand design; I’m a believer in who Jesus really is (son of God) and what He did when He died for me on that cross. I’m at peace and waiting for heaven. I hope you will be also.
” A church, any church, is a man-made construct.” that statement nails it. I am currently reading The Autobiography of a Yogi and then an exploration of Jesus’ lost years where he purportedly studied in Tibet, India and elsewhere. Now that’s a story I should be able to relate to! Love the adventure quest for true spirituality!
But this organized religion, IMO, is for control, money, ego, and represents a miniature society full of disfunction. One of my guests on my podcast who went to the Princeton Seminary noted that organized religion offers three things: Community; shared beliefs and shared rituals. a little too cultish for me, thanks.
I often wonder how people can so rigorously repeat and defend writings written (then translated) from 3 different languages, hundreds of years ago, three hundred years after Jesus walked the earth. Joseph Campbell once called Christianity (and all its brands) the greatest hoax of mankind. I don’t think I’d go quite that far, but I would certainly call it a construct of man with all the inherent flaws that go with that. I suspect Jesus would be appalled at what passes for religion these days.
Please understand I’m a deeply spiritual person. But my spirituality is direct and manifest in my daily life, not dictated by a hierarchical social group. I am not perfect. My daily mantra, in a personal and spiritual sense,’ is what can I learn?’
Life, and spirituality, is a quest IMO. A wonderful fascinating adventure that requires deep personal reflection and change as needed. What a wonderful companion to this life!
Organized religions and militaries require their members to function as “children” to their “parent figure” leaders. This “Parent-Child” relationship is obvious in the Catholic Church, where every earthly Parent Figure is addressed as “Father” or some higher title.
Sadly, when two adults enter into a mental relationship where one of them functions as a child while the other functions aa a parent… the normal adult-to-adult relationship goes dysfunctional.
Plato’s description of the three-part human “soul” that consists of a pneuma, anima, and nous, was apparently confirmed by Jesus when He commanded us to love Him with all three of these “souls,” which He called the heart, soul, and mind (1John etc., twice).
Freud’s “id, ego, and superego” and Eric Berne’s “archeo-psyche, extero-psyche, and neo-psyche” are a few of the terms used to describe the three “soul-parts” (i.e., the heart, soul, and mind) in each human being.
We in the West are blessed with complete and direct access to God’s Word, which is why there has been an increase of church refugees. Something is stirring in the body of Christ. People are reading the Bible cover-to-cover for themselves. Whether in garages, homes or barns, people are seeking God beyond church doctrines, beyond the liturgical calendars, and beyond the stock answers. Christ left us the Holy Spirit and I believe it is moving. The historical brick and mortar formula is, oddly, leaving too many feeling isolated. This is not to diminish genuine fellowship and servant-led congregations, but no man is righteous before Him, including the “called” of the church. Like Habakkuk we cry, “Where is God?” He responds, “Where is man?” (living down to the curse)
You courageously shared a very crushing recollection of abuse and betrayal that has compelled a large number of people to respond – many, like me, who have never written a comment on an article. I believe you just created fellowship!
He has led me outside the walls, through the thorns of anger and has brought me to a deeper understanding of why I believe, patiently allowing me to wrestle with Him. Keep seeking Him! My prayers seemed to already include you.