The Inappropriate Actions of the American Church Pastor
#Metoo and us too
No names in this article were changed.
No one wants to read it. Well, no one but me.
On Tuesday a friend of mine texted me an article. I read "Lead Pastor Resigns After 'Inappropriate Actions' and my stomach dropped.
No. Way.
One Google search and I saw news outlet after news outlet using a photograph I took of him years ago. On Church grounds. A wide smile and sparkling green of trees behind him.
Neither my friend nor I work at this particular church anymore, in fact, I don’t work in vocational ministry at all. But Christian Southern America is a funny world. You can leave the Church, but the Church never quite leaves you. I want to be clear before I continue:
This is not a critique on God.
This is a critique on what humans have made out of Him.
In Texas, the tea is as strong as the binary thinking, even in the more liberal circles. Since living in France, I have seen that I somehow, despite my independent line of thinking (by standards for women) was roped into working within the system that claims to set so many people free.
I was raised as a Methodist. As a child I was always interested in spirituality and religion, but it wasn’t until my rebellion stage in college did I realize I truly needed a savior. From the booze. From the heartbreak. From the hedonistic treadmill of the entertainment industry and film school I was a part of.
Seven years ago, my sophomore year of college, I was invited to a service at this Church by the same friend who texted me this article. She has always been a true friend. (I promise there are some good Christians out there still)
The night I attended my first service, I felt an encounter with the Divine I haven’t let go of. A saving, pure Love, woo-woo grace that I still pray to and commune with in meditation to this day. My spirituality and relationship with Jesus grows and deepens in me as I age. It’s hard to call myself a Christian. It’s easy to call myself a friend and apprentice of Jesus of Nazareth.
Within two months I was volunteering at the Church and within six months I was working there.
I was hooked.
If you notice, I didn’t say the community or institution “saved” me. Because they didn’t. The spirit of God did.
I went on to fall into the very cult like community this Church unknowingly cultivated. I say this because I don’t think they are evil. A community of new friendships. A community of trust with elders and mentors. A community of teaching from a very narrow minded, white male theological perspective. The makings of every toxic work and play environment. Especially for vulnerable young women.
I developed a crush on the young resident pastor who led the college aged kids and found myself wanting to be a part of his ever-growing cult like community. It felt good. It felt like I was a part of something. He was attracted to my confidence in media and marketing skills and we became close friends, and then more than that. I thought at least.
That was, until my personal spirituality, background and social status wasn’t quite up to par of what this boy was looking for in a “Godly” romantic relationship. I was too “new” of a professional Christian and most definitely not old enough, pretty enough or submissive enough to be wife material.
I found myself, in shambles, after telling him how I felt and being met with a “maybe you got the wrong idea. I didn’t like you, like you. All of those intimate praying sessions, late night texts, dreaming of a future together didn’t mean anything romantic. You’re being crazy.”
Rightfully heartbroken and angry, my attitude toward serving at this Church with a “man of God” who was supposed to be full of integrity and truth, changed. I can most definitely take accountability for being a soft-hearted and easily manipulated 21 year old girl, but I couldn’t take accountability for anything else. The gaslighting. The manipulating. I wanted him to.
And when this situation was brought to a superior, I was asked into a meeting with a closed door (which was against church policy, by the way). I heard that I needed an attitude adjustment from both the superior and the cowardly boy. That my feelings needed to put to the side and I was wrong for acting inappropriately. That I had read the signs wrong and needed to straighten back up. Be put back in my place. Serve the Church, run the college media, and be quiet.
Though this was 7 years ago, this was just the beginning.
I left this Church and began working for an even bigger Mega Church. In true American high-achieving spirit, I set out to get my Masters from Dallas Theological Seminary and was accepted into a competitive (I can’t believe the word seminary and competitive can be used in the same sentence) full time residency position of which only fourteen other candidates were selected from nation wide. We worked tirelessly but all in the name of “serving” and learning. I left there too after realizing perhaps that all evangelical Churches everywhere were run by the same white, upper class, men with a different names.
Bills.
Andys.
Coles.
And now Josiahs.
What happened at Cross Timbers Church is happening all over the evangelical world. I have always been very publicly open about my situation of emotional abuse from the boy pastor at CT (who is no longer there), but I can say that I am not the first or the last woman to be taken advantage of or worse. And not just women, children and other vulnerable minorities too.
This situation is the latest in a series of unfortunate of events involving north Texan pastors. At least five DFW pastors have been arrested, fired, or resigned since June.
And it’s August.
Influential figures and celebrity pastors such as Hillsong’s Carl Lentz and Gateway’s Robert Morris have been “progressive Christian figures” who fell down publicly from sexual abuse and infidelity allegations. And unfortunately, God himself has gotten the bad reputation.
It is almost normal now to skim through the news and read about another Church somewhere in America where a pastor (or group of pastors) were caught acting in financial abuse, dictatorial leadership or “spiritual abuse and a toxic culture.”
Church attendance has declined in America by 42% over the past two decades, but specifically the southern Bible Belt and the rural Midwest as of late. I am the first person to advocate for choosing to live a life of supportive, enriching relationships and communities. But not like this.
As I said before, this isn’t a critique on God.
In fact, your spirituality and belief system should embody goodness and hope and joy, whether that is inside a Church or not. So much so that others wonder where you got it from. And you can wonder how you can share this goodness and hope and joy you’ve found. It shouldn’t be a manipulation tactic to get others to follow your agenda or think your thoughts.
I think the goodness of Jesus hasn’t changed. And the way pharisees teach from the pulpit hasn’t either.
Perhaps now instead of robes they are just preachers in sneakers.
Josiah was not directly my superior at Cross Timbers, but I interacted with him weekly. A man I once looked up to as a charismatic, strong and married man resigned after being accused of emotional affairs with women other than his wife in the Church. I recall while working at Cross Timbers he was instructed by another pastor to “speak a prophecy” over each of the summer interns. When he asked God what prophecy He had for me, the words “salmon” came up. Josiah told me that he interpreted this as God “viewing me as a salmon fish, swimming upstream back to Him no matter how far I ran away.”
I took this prophecy to heart, like I took to heart everything every man in that Church said. I even got a salmon fish tattooed on the bottom of my foot as a symbol.
As you know, foot tattoos tend to fade. And it is actually completely gone now.
Since then, I have spoken personally with God and don’t need a mediator. I have found a lot of resonance and liberation with another animal, actually.
I now have a shark tattoo on my ribs as a reminder that I’m not a lost salmon fish. I’m curious. I’m a leader. My teeth matter. I’m a shark.
And we all have the right to swim in waters of our own choosing.
Have you ever had a negative experience with an American Church pastor? How did you handle it? Did it affect your faith? I’d love to know.
jennijohnson@thejennijohnson.com
I resonate with so much of what you shared. Having been raised in a rural southern, very authoritarian christian church, I experienced what would be best described as chronic religious and religiously perpetrated abuse, mostly by those who raised me. But then, every week's mindf*ck indoctrination of fear of God, fear of the devil, nowhere to turn and you're probably already beyond redemption anyway forced me out at age 13, shortly after discovering that being baptized wasn't the saving grace as advertised. I'm enraged even now at what I experienced and what other's have suffered in the name of god and church and being a "good christian", especially those who take advantage of (ABUSE!) those in their care. Though I agree that there are still some sincerely good christian people out there, I won't ever seriously attend a church again. But like you, I found my connection directly - thanks to AA. I no longer fear going to hell -- I grew up in it and got out -- and as far as I'm concerned, heaven is here/now if I want it to be. You be that shark, Jenni, with plenty of bite .. and more power to ya!