Speak

The whole synagogue is silent. Everyone's holding their breath. The Pharisees, who just seconds ago were salivating over their impending victory are now choking on the dryness of their own mouths, and Jesus has this weird little smile on His face. 

Into the heavy silence, He speaks. "Hold out your hand." 

In an instant, the crippled man holds out his deformed hand, and as he stretches it forward, it becomes whole. You can hear the whole synagogue gasp.

He's done it. He's healed the man. 

But then, in a moment of sudden remembrance, all eyes turn the Pharisees, the men who set this whole thing up. What will they do next?

What can they do?

See, at first, we must answer the question: what just happened? Jesus didn't do anything. He never touched the man. He never did anything that looks like work. He simply...spoke a word. 

Is speaking on the Sabbath a violation of the holy order? Is speaking work? 

There's a conundrum here for the Pharisees. There's nothing in their law that prohibits speaking on the Sabbath. If there were, these men who love their power would be in trouble. But there is nothing. Speaking is not work. On the other hand, something happened to the man on the basis of that word. Does the result make that word work?

And who is it that can speak a word that becomes a work? 

In the beginning was the Word.... In the beginning, everything was formless and void, and then, God spoke.... 

To say that the word became work is to confess that this man, this Jesus, is one who can speak such a word. And the only one who has spoken such a word to this point in all the history of the world...is God. 

They thought they had Jesus, but Jesus had them. They either had to deny what everyone has plainly seen, that a miraculous healing has taken place among them, or they had to admit that this Jesus is one like God, who can speak a word that becomes a work. 

Which will it be, gentlemen?

A Heavy Silence

The Pharisees thought they had it. They brought a crippled man into the synagogue on the holy day, making themselves unclean, but no matter what happened next, they were going to preserve their power. Either this Jesus would choose not to act, in deference to the Sabbath, and the Pharisees would be proved right in all their purity laws...or this Jesus would act, do something, and the Pharisees would show everyone what a sinner He really was - working on the Sabbath; He can't possibly be such a "good" teacher after all. Thus, they remain the best teachers. 

So they shoved the crippled man toward Jesus, and they held their breath, tasting their victory as the saliva built up in their mouths. One way or the other, they were coming out on top. 

And then...

Jesus spoke. 

He asked them about the things that they owned, the things they built their lives on. If one of their animals, which made possible their agricultural work, fell into the ditch on a holy day, wouldn't they go and pull it out? 

*An interesting aside: why would one's working animal fall into a ditch on the Sabbath in the first place? One of two things must be happening - either the animal is working, which means a man set it to working and thus broke the Sabbath already, or the animal is grazing, which implies the presence of a shepherd or guardian who would be tending the animal and thus also already breaking the Sabbath. But no one responds to Jesus's musing by saying that the animal should not fall into a ditch on the Sabbath, for that would mean someone was working. But, you know...details. 

At this point, the Pharisees are the ones who are caught. If they say that they would not pull their animal out, they are guilty of its death, which makes them unclean in God's eyes. If they say that they would pull their animal out, they are guilty of work on the Sabbath, which makes them hypocrites (at the very least) and shows that even they are willing to break the Sabbath for some things. 

You can feel the tension in the air as that saliva that tasted so sweet like victory dries completely up and the Pharisees are left speechless. Jesus has so far done nothing with the crippled man that they planted in the synagogue to preserve their power, and they've already lost it. 

There is no way to respond to His question. 

I imagine Jesus let the tension just hang there for longer than anyone thought was comfortable. I imagine the silence lingering for just enough time to become awkward. I imagine Jesus sneaking a small smile out the side of His mouth toward the crippled man, a smile that says, "Just wait," as He continues to watch the Pharisees, waiting for their reaction. They start to squirm. They start to point fingers. 

But...but...the crippled man, they insist. Enough about us. What are You going to do about the crippled man? 

Jesus smiles. You could hear a pin drop, were it not for the shuffling of the Pharisees' feet under their long, ornate robes. 

Then, Jesus turns to the crippled man, starts to reach out His hand for the man's, but stops. With a quick, knowing glance toward the Pharisees, then back to the man, He speaks again.... 

Unclean

So there's a crippled man in the synagogue on the Sabbath, and the Pharisees basically shove the guy toward Jesus and wait to see what the "Rabbi" will do. Will He honor the Sabbath...or heal the man?

But as we saw yesterday, there's more to this story. Because under normal circumstances, no Pharisee is going to let a crippled man into the synagogue on any day, let alone on a holy day. The crippled were supposed to be cut off. 

So the Pharisees are already breaking their own laws. 

Isn't that interesting? The Pharisees got together, and they thought about things, and they decided that they would rather be unclean and pollute the entire holy place...than be wrong. (Interestingly enough, if they bring an unclean/unpresentable man into the holy place on the Sabbath and nothing terrible happens to the holy place or the people, aren't they already wrong?) 

This was the real threat that the Pharisees faced from Jesus. It wasn't just that He was claiming to be the Messiah, although that would raise questions for anyone. It wasn't that He was talking about destroying the Temple and raising it up in 3 days; crazy men do crazy talk sometimes - it's nothing to get in a big tizzy about. 

The trouble with Jesus was that His holy presence - His love, His grace, His mercy, His redemption, His talk about the Kingdom, the promises whispered with His every breath - threatened their power. 

They had built their entire power structure on being the arbiters of holy truth. They were the ones that knew the laws. They were the ones that knew the rules. They were the ones who understood God and what He wanted and what pleases Him and how the people were supposed to act. If this Jesus comes in and not only tells the people there's another way, but shows them, the entire power structure crumbles. 

If the power structure crumbles, those at the top come crashing down. Hard. 

No one will ever listen to them again. 

So what they've actually set up here is a power play with Jesus. They think they can't lose. If He doesn't heal the man because it's the Sabbath, then they were right - the Sabbath requires no work, even healing work. If He does heal the man, they get to call Him out and maybe something terrible will happen, and wouldn't that be even better? At the very least, though, they get to point out that He doesn't know the most basic rules of the faith, so how could He be the "Messiah"? He's got God all wrong. 

They expect that no matter what happens with this crippled man in the synagogue on the Sabbath (and quite honestly, they don't care what happens to him; he's just a tool they are using for their own purposes), they are going to be able to prove their own right-ness and re-secure their place atop the power structure.

It's a win for them either way, so they're willing to put up with a little bit of uncleanness, even in the holy place, if it gets them what the most want - their power back. 

Amazing how quick some folks are to break their own rules for their own reputation. 

Of course, what they hadn't counted on was, well, Jesus actually being Jesus....  

The Crippled Plant

The Gospels tell us the story of a man with a crippled hand who was in the synagogue on the day of worship, when Jesus comes in and the Pharisees hold their breath to see what He will do. Will He heal the man? On the day of rest? 

By God, if He does so, then they've got Him. 

Blasphemer. 

How many times have you heard this story? How many times have you read it? How many times have you pictured in your head a big ol' church gathering with a crippled man right in the middle of it, the way we might gather around someone in prayer? How many times have you thought in your head that this crippled man was much like the infirm among us - surrounded by friends, by those who wanted nothing more than for him to be healed, by those who were looking for a miracle for him...faithfully? Daily. Weekly. 

I confess that I have had similar visions in my head as I have tried to picture this moment. 

I confess that it was only very recently that I realized I was wrong. 

Think back to the time, the place, and the people we are talking about. There is no Christ yet. There's a Jesus, but there is no Christ. No redemption. No restoration. 

There are Jews. And there are hundreds of laws about purity and procedure and ritual cleansing and what is clean and what is unclean. There are hundreds of laws about who is allowed where and when and under what circumstances. There are hundreds of laws about who is allowed to worship God with the community and who must be cut off. 

And I'm telling you - in those hundreds of laws, there were plenty of them that said that crippled man is not allowed in the synagogue. That crippled man is not invited to worship. He's defective. He's not whole. So he's not clean. 

Certainly, even if you have a place for such a man in the life of the synagogue - if, by some mercy, you let him draw near, he's left on the outskirts of everything. Furthest away. Removed from the crowds. At the very least, removed from the Pharisees, who want nothing to do with a man like this. They wouldn't be caught dead with a cripple. 

...until he serves their purpose. 

So when we read this story, we have to understand - this crippled man was a plant. The Pharisees brought him in special, just to trap Jesus. They invited him there just to make a spectacle of him. Knowing that if their attempts to trap Jesus failed for some reason, at least they'd have their purity laws to fall back on and still create a scene. This crippled man was there because they invited him there. Maybe even dragged him there. At least one of the Gospels suggests that the Pharisees are the ones who made sure that Jesus saw this man, put him right dead center right in front of this "Rabbi"'s face for the sole purpose of seeing what He would do. 

On any other Sabbath, that crippled man would be wholly excluded from the Pharisees' worship. Make no mistake about that. 

Does that change the way you read the story?  

The More You Know

After more than a decade of offering devotionals for Communion, I've frequently been asked - how do you know so much about Communion? Those in my fellowship have known that I always seem to have at least one or two thoughts in my pocket about the Table. 

The truth is, I don't know very much about Communion. I don't. I know exactly as much about it as I guess anyone else does, as an intellectual exercise, which isn't very much. The Gospels tell us about the Upper Room, but briefly, and Acts mentions the breaking of bread, but beyond that, there's not much to know.

But there is so much to dream.

And that's what it is for me - I'm a dreamer. 

I sit around on my wounded days and dream about what it might be like to be healed. I sit around on my failed days and dream about what it might be like to be forgiven. I sit around on my rejected days and dream about what it might be like to be welcomed. I sit around on my lonely days and dream about what it might be like to have friends. 

I muse often on my human life, on a life that is filled with blessings and brokenness, light and dark, beauty and ashes, wounded and mended, amazed by grace, surprised by mercy, captivated by love, and I dream about sharing a table with Jesus. 

And I realize...He already has one. 

And He's already invited me to join Him. 

Everything I have ever said about Communion is a word that I have planted in the tender places in my own heart and let grow until it has become love. That's it. That's all it is. I let it grow in my hard things until I've fallen in love with Jesus all over again, and I come to this Table and take this cup and take this bread, and it satisfies my soul. 

Just like He wanted it to. 

And I know - it's the Table. It's not the Cross; it didn't die for me. It's not the grave; it wasn't resurrected for me. It's not the manger; it wasn't incarnated for me. It's not the formless and void; it wasn't spoken for me. It's not the womb; it wasn't knit for me. 

But there is something unlike anything else in the intimate fellowship of being with me. Just being. In the normal, run-of-the-mill, everyday kind of human thing we're doing here - eating and drinking and hoping, talking about the Promise, wrapped in love. 

I don't know a lot about the Table, not any more than really anyone else knows. But I love it. From the depths of my heart, I love it. 

That's what makes the difference.  

Nothing Artificial

We are living in an age of artificial intelligence, which is nothing more than automated intelligence, the product of its human creator. And that human creator's intelligence is really God's intelligence, as the product of its Creator. What separates us, first, from the machines that we create is our heart, which is God's heart, which allows us to use the intelligence that we have in ways that impact the world, not just in ways that shortcut information. Our automated intelligence has yet to do this. 

But if our intelligence is God's intelligence and our heart is God's heart, how do we end up with so much bad in the world? 

The answer is the other thing that sets us apart from the automated intelligences that we create: choice. 

When we create an intelligence, even if we try to give it heart, we tell it exactly what to do. AI is programmed so that it does certain things in certain ways, producing certain outcomes. It operates according to its master code and nothing more. Even when we have attempted to introduce "choice" into a code, the only thing we have truly succeeded at introducing is a randomizer (Google's famed "Feelin' lucky?" search engine, anyone?). It may be a randomizer within certain limitations, but it's still nothing more than a randomizer. 

And that's because we have not gotten the "heart" code right. We have not been able to program the automation to evaluate the information and make a wise decision regarding it - we can only get closer or further away, and only then to a degree. What we can convince automation to do with the code is essentially random, as we simply cannot account for all of the micro-realities of human knowledge. That is, heart. 

God, on the other hand, has created us with choice. He can do that because we have a heart to guide us. The heart sometimes gets messed up - sometimes gets a bug in it - but it's still there to guide us. But because God has the heart piece right, He can give us choice, as well, and we can be truly free to choose - not randomly, but on the basis of our intelligence.

We choose based on heart. We choose based on the considerations we make about how information can be applied and what the impact of those applications might be. Who they might affect. What they might affect. To what degree. What other choices they will either open or close.

And sometimes, we choose terribly. 

We don't know we're choosing terribly. Most of us would not willingly choose something that we thought was bad or negative or evil. Yet, we do. We consider it with our heart, with God's heart, and we choose what we think is best based on our limited knowledge and perspective, and we go with it. And sometimes, it's just plain wrong. Sometimes, it turns out poorly. Sometimes, it doesn't look like the intelligence and heart of our Creator are in us, and if they are, it doesn't look like they are good. 

But even in our bad choices, there's nothing artificial about us. There's something authentic - we're just doing our best with what we know. 

Or maybe we're more like Google's "Feelin' Lucky?" than we'd like to think sometimes. 

But at least when we are, we can apologize for it. 

THAT'S heart. 

Heart of Man

We are living in a world of artificial intelligence, but as we've seen - no such thing actually exists. At best, what we have is automated intelligence, which will always be no greater than the intelligence of its designer and the quality of its input. So it is, indeed, very limited. 

But then, we saw that there's not even really such a thing as human intelligence, for we, too, are simply creations of an intelligent designer. And much like we cannot put anything other than our own intelligence into the artificials that we are designing, neither can God bestow on us anything but His intelligence. So we are beings created in the intelligence of God, and that makes our intelligence HIS intelligence. At its core, anyway. (Of course, we do not have His intelligence to the extent that He has it; we are in His image, but we are not the fullness of His glory.)

What makes man, as a creature, fundamentally different than machines, as creations, is...heart. 

It's heart that gives us the ability to discern information, to decide between what is important and what is not, to consider the impact of one piece of data over another. It is heart that lets us know what is truly right because it is the only thing that is consistent with everything else that we know is right. Heart is the application of facts.

Facts are one thing, and they're important. To a degree. It's important to know, for example, that heat is dangerous to the skin.  It is another thing entirely to know that this fact should lead us to prevent our child from touching the hot stove. It's important to know, for another example, that the Bible is the inspired Word of God. It is another thing entirely to let this knowledge lead us to worship Him. (And plenty of Christians have problems crossing this chasm.) 

In other words, heart is the thing that puts knowledge into action and turns truth into love. 

We have not figured out how to automate that yet. And we probably never will. 

And even if we do, we'll run into the very same issue - whatever kind of "heart" we give to our automated intelligence will be limited by the kind of heart that its creators have. If the creator of the automated intelligence has a heart toward a liberal philosophy, for example, then so will the automation; if the creator has a heart toward a conservative philosophy, then so will the automation. There will never be an unbiased automated intelligence. Just as there is no unbiased human being. (Which is why, again, we have to be careful about pretending that AI is neutral; it is never neutral.)

But, and you may have figured this out by now already, we have the same truth with our own hearts. Our hearts are the product of our Creator, and the only heart that there is to give us is the heart that flows out of the nature of His own heart. There is nothing else. There is no other option. And so, we have in us the heart of God. 

Which is how our knowledge leads to things like love. And mercy. And grace. And goodness. And steadfastness. And neighborliness. And...you get the point. 

What's neat about the heart of God is that it does these things in diversity - uniquely through each and every one of us, exactly as He designed us. Automated intelligence, as we're creating it, has one way to do this; it's very narrow. 

So wait...if heart is what sets us apart from the machines and we have the heart of God, which leads to all kinds of good things, then why is there so much bad in the world? 

And...we're back to the question of theodicy again (which is where almost all of our questions about nearly anything lead us)..... 

Human Intelligence

We are living in a time of artificial intelligence (AI), but as we saw yesterday, AI isn't really artificial; it's automated. It's human intelligence formed into an algorithm, with all of a human perspective and bias programmed right into it. 

But...

What if I told you there's no such thing as human intelligence?

See, human intelligence is not fundamentally different from what we are calling 'artificial intelligence' these days - that is, it is dependent upon the Creator of humanity. 

There are, of course, humanists who will tell you that's all bunk. That there is no such thing as a "Creator." That one day, billions upon billions of years ago, nothing exploded into something, something developed into a breathing something, that single-celled amoeba spouted fins and started swimming, then legs and started walking, then hair and stood upright, and then somehow became a thinking being (a pastor friend likes to say the fish stood upright and became a paleontologist, which always makes me laugh) and so humans simply have an "evolved" intelligence, which came from fundamentally nowhere and nothing and became the apex of all creation but is not, at its core, really any different than the fins by which the fish swims or the instinct by which the skunk raises its tail. 

The problem here is that if human intelligence "evolved" this way, then it is, fundamentally, still nothing. Nothing does not create everything; it creates nothing. Just as notes do not create music - notes create noise; structure creates music. So the simple existence of neurons firing in such a way that it resembles intelligence does not intelligence create; it creates only noise. It is the structure of intelligence that makes it something. Otherwise, our so-called intelligence is really nothing but chaos. 

So we're left with a Creator (which, by the way, more and more science is circling back around to, when it gets out of its anti-"religious" biases; the structure of the universe strongly suggests intentionality, which suggests a creator of some kind). And if we are, like artificial intelligence, merely products of our Creator, then we have His perspective and wisdom and bias in it.  

Some will say, wait a minute - God doesn't have any biases. But of course, He does. He is biased toward grace, toward mercy, toward hope, toward faithfulness. God is biased toward love. This is how there remains something fundamentally good about human nature. 

But the point of the conversation is this: we are products of our Creator, so whatever intelligence we think we have is actually only the intelligence that He has given us. And if He has given us intelligence, it is formed on His understanding of what intelligence is. Thus, we think the way that God thinks. 

Which shouldn't be surprising. The Bible tells us plainly we are created in His image. That includes the way we think and process information. 

How, then, does it end up that there is so much broken and evil and dark in this world? If we, in our human intelligence, have merely the mind of God, why does the world look the way that it does? 

Because we do not merely have the mind of God.... 

Artificial Intelligence

We are living in an age of AI - artificial intelligence. 

Kind of. 

It seems to be everywhere we turn. Try searching something on the internet, and you'll be given AI's best summary of all of the results. Turn on the television, and there are commercials advertising the tech company's latest version of AI, usually doing things like summarizing an email you didn't read or preparing a project you ran out of time on. Ask AI, and it will generate a new image for you or craft a paragraph or draft an email. 

But...

There's no such thing as artificial intelligence. 

This thing that we are calling AI isn't really intelligence. At least, it's not artificial; it's human intelligence. AI is nothing more than an algorithm created by a programmer somewhere that has "taught" the computer to pick up on certain things or to identify certain trigger ideas or to summarize content based on frequency of appearance - i.e. the more times you find a particular keyword mentioned, the more likely it is to be important and therefore, the more likely it is to make it into AI's management of the requested information. 

But at the core of it, it's still human intelligence. The algorithm is created with the designer's intelligence. With the designer's biases. With the designer's interests in mind. So if the designer of AI is inclined toward this or that idea or way of thinking, the AI product will also trend in that direction. Even if the designer has the best of intentions and seeks to the best of their ability a "neutral" programming, the designer is still a human being and therefore fundamentally has a bias and a perspective and all kinds of things he or she cannot possibly know about him/herself (and of course, we all tend to believe we are more neutral and more "right" than everyone else, so he may believe himself to be truly neutral....even though he cannot possibly be). 

That's one reason AI doesn't really exist - it is always a reflection of the intelligence of its designer; it cannot truly "learn" its way out of its inherent biases. 

The other reason AI doesn't really exist is because it is dependent upon its input. That is, ask AI to summarize the content on a certain topic, and the only information that it has to draw from is the content that already exists...which was created by humans...with certain perspectives and biases. So if there is an overwhelming bias in a certain direction, the AI will simply summarize this bias as fact and present it as truth. 

There are a lot of folks who simply believe AI because "the computer can't lie." It's just bytes and bits and digital information. It isn't human, with a thinking kind of mind.

But there is a thinking kind of mind behind it, and that thinking mind is human. And thus, there is no such thing as artificial intelligence. 

At best, what we have is "automated intelligence" - the digital shortcut to doing the human work, but it's the human mind that is behind it all. And always will be. There is not a way for a human to create anything that does not have a human intelligence at its core. 

Even if we were to someday successfully train computers to learn, they would only learn the very specific way that we program them to learn. So even their learning, which would appear to be independent, would be a model of human intelligence. We just can't get away from it. 

We should be mindful of these truths as we enter deeper into this digital reality that we are now living, and it should temper us to be cautious about what seems so easy to take for granted. 

But this is also an important reflection for our faith and our understanding of God and humanity. 

(Stay tuned.) 

Spiritual Welcome

We've been talking this week about spiritual abuse, and it only makes sense for our Communion reflection to touch on this topic, as well. Because more often than not, when you're being spiritually abused, you don't feel welcome at this Table. 

How could you? 

Someone in the church (usually in the church, but at a minimum someone who has connected themself strongly with the faith) has told you that you aren't welcome in certain places. That you're a handful. That you're a pain in the hind end. That you're more trouble than you're worth. That you're a disaster, a train wreck, and nobody can deal with you on any meaningful basis. 

So why would Jesus?

Not only that, but you've probably also been told that you just like to draw attention to yourself, that you're dramatic. So you assume your presence really ruins a party. If you show up to this Table, people are going to start talking about how you think you're worth something and how you're just trying to be part of something that you don't have any business being part of and how you just want people to notice you, so you crashed this party. 

So...why would you come?

Your spiritual abuser may step in here, again, and say that of course, he's happy to break bread with you, no matter what everyone else thinks (while also subtly hinting to you what "everyone else" thinks). But...this is a Table with Jesus. 

And having someone convince you that you are not welcome here is the worst form of spiritual abuse there is. 

You are welcome. 

Jesus loves you. 

And listen, when I say that, I'm not saying, "Jesus even broke bread with Judas, so of course you're welcome here, you piece of garbage betrayer." No. That's just more spiritual abuse. 

You are welcome here because you are beautifully and wonderfully made. Because you are the work of the Master's hands. Because He knit you together in your mother's womb and knew you before you even took your first breath. Because He knows the number of hairs on your head at any given moment, even when you're pulling them out from the frustration of feeling unlovable. Even then, you are loved for exactly who you are. 

Which, by the way, is probably not who your spiritual abuser tells you that you are. 

So listen, at least here, at least at this Table, to the voice of Jesus, who says, "Come." Come as you are. Come to Me. Come have this bread that I have prayed a blessing over just for you. 

You. Are. Welcome. Here. 

Don't let anyone convince you otherwise.  

Crushed

We could talk for a long time about spiritual abuse. It takes many forms, and the stories that exist are countless and heartbreaking. But we're hitting some of the highlights. So far, we have seen how the spiritual abuser sets himself up to be your savior and then, forces you to ask for every little thing that you want or need while he is secretly keeping score or using those opportunities to remind you why he's the only one who will help you - pitiful as you are. 

There's one more major red flag of spiritual abuse that's important to talk about here, and it's this: 

To the spiritual abuser, it's always your fault. Everything. All of it. It's your fault.  

If you ever happen to figure out what he's doing, what's happening in your relationship, and you happen to get the strength to call it out, he'll spin things around to tell you that's not really the case and that it's just another example of how horrible you are.

And you likely will go to him when you figure things out. By this point, he's convinced you that you're supposed to come to him with everything, that he's the only one willing to listen to you or to help you. He's been there for you through other interpersonal conflicts you've tried to navigate (which you realize in hindsight that he also helped to create through his own god complex and toxic/abusive dynamics). You've probably even had conversations in these other times about how, if you ever have a problem with someone, especially him, you should take Matthew's advice and go to your brother in private and try to talk about things. 

So you'll figure out that something is off in the relationship and naturally, you'll go to him and try to talk about it. He told you that you could do that, right? 

When you do, though, two things are going to happen: 

First, he's going to deflect. He's going to tell you how horrible the things are that you're saying and how much they hurt him to hear. After all, he's never been anything but nice to you - how can you accuse him of such things? He'll bring up his list again, that score he's keeping about everything he thinks he's ever done for you, and he'll tell you that you really ruined his day/week/month/whatever by saying these things to him. 

This is to make you apologize to him and feel like you owe him something for your thoughtfulness and rudeness; it keeps you in his debt. 

Second, he's going to tell you that this is primarily a you issue. You just want to be offended. You're just so high maintenance. You're so naive. You don't understand how things really work. You're such a burden, and here you are again, being more of a burden because of your own insecurities and failures. In other words, it's your fault you feel this way; it's part of the broken dirtiness of your own heart. You know, the very same thing that keeps others from wanting to have anything to do with you. The same thing that makes God Himself weary of you. The same thing that leaves you with only one savior left - your spiritual abuser. 

You are just hopeless. Toxic. Dramatic. Traumatic. Whatever pain you might be feeling from the relationship, it's your own fault because your heart is just that wrong, that backward, that poisonous. 

So you try to address it, having recognized it for what it is, and the interaction you have with him - with the same him who told you to always bring it up - only proves what you've already suspected. 

The only possible thing you can do now is to walk away. 

It feels impossible. By this point, so much of your faith is wrapped up in him. So much of your understanding of God. So much of your relationship with the fellowship. All of your relationships and spiritual disciplines and everything have run through him for so long that if you walk away from him, it feels like you're walking away from everything...and there are so many of those things you aren't willing to give up - or to give up on. But it feels like you're losing them anyway. 

Which is exactly how he wants it. So that once he has you, you feel like you can never leave without losing God, too. 

This...is spiritual abuse. 

Ask

"If you need something, all you have to do is ask." 

The spiritual abuser will tell you this. He will tell you this repeatedly. And on one hand, he's right. But on the other hand, things aren't so easy. 

Because you will ask. And you will be told that those resources aren't available to you. They're available to others, but they aren't available to you. 

For example, you might hear that a certain person within the congregation has a certain set of skills and really enjoys helping folks according to her gifting. But you may not know this person well, so you'll ask your abuser - because he's already convinced you he's the only one who cares about you - about whether this is true, and you'll be told it's true, but that person is very busy and you shouldn't bother them. Then, you see that person helping others in exactly the same way you need, but you asked...and you were told not to ask. 

Or maybe you'll ask and you'll receive, but what you don't know is that the spiritual abuser is always keeping score. You won't know this until it's too late, until this score comes back to bite you. But one day, something will happen and this person will come right back to you and say, "After everything I've done for you!" with a huff, then list off everything he perceives he's ever done for you, big and small. Asked for and not asked for. 

He'll name everything. "Remember that time you asked me to hand you the pen from across the counter? I did that, didn't I?" "Remember when you asked me to help you carry that heavy thing? I helped you carry that heavy thing." He remembers every small thing he's ever done for you, even the things you would not have considered personal favors, but just acts of human decency that ought to be expected between any two mature human beings. But to him, they're part of the score. 

He'll even usually throw in here all the spiritual things he thinks he's done for you - the phone calls he's answered when you were reaching out, the prayers he's prayed with you and for you, the Bible reference he helped you find that one time. Anything and everything so that you remember all of the things you've ever received from him. 

This is his way to justify not giving you more. He's already given you so much, and you're ungrateful. And it hasn't been effective in growing you, so you're a hopeless case. Whatever he can say to beat you down just a little bit and convince you of your unworth so that, again, he becomes your savior. He's just so kind to you!

What's really devious about telling you to ask, though, is this: 

Your spiritual abuser sees your need. He sees it plainly. There are probably many others who have seen your need and, because spiritual abusers are usually persons in power, have probably even come to him to ask about how they can help. But he's told them - she hasn't asked for help yet. 

You know that scene in Aladdin when he's bound and gagged and thrown into the water with a stone tied around his feet and the genie is like, gosh, I'd really like to help you, but I need you to ask.... It's that, but in real life. There are persons who have seen your need and want to help, but they are not allowed to help because you haven't asked; your abuser refuses to help because you haven't asked. 

Because if you don't ask, it doesn't become part of the score. If you don't ask, he can't use it against you later. If you don't ask, he can't make a judgment on whether you're worthy or not and give you a speech about what you deserve and what you don't. 

The spiritual abuser will sit back and watch you drown and then tell you it's your own fault because you never asked anyone to save you. All you had to do was ask for help, but you're just too prideful to humble yourself. Your heart is wrong and is full of yourself. 

"Ask and you shall receive." The Bible says that, he'll remind you. The fact that you don't ask is a testimony to the weakness and failure of your own faith. You just don't believe enough...because you don't ask. 

Never mind that you were drowning and couldn't even take a breath to speak.  

A God Complex

One of the easiest ways to spot a spiritual abuser is to recognize in him or her a certain "God complex." That is, like any toxic individual, they will want to have a measure of power and control over you and your life (and your faith and your fellowship), and they will exercise this power in subtle and sometimes not-so-subtle ways. 

They may start by suggesting to you that certain things going on in the church really aren't your kind of things - you shouldn't try to get involved. You shouldn't try to volunteer. You shouldn't really be interested in those things because hey, they know you, and it's just "not a good fit." 

This can be anything from a certain small group, a community service project, a ministry within the church, a volunteer role, even something as simple as a friendship with someone you've identified as a possible point of contact within the church - someone who you know would make you feel less lonely there. 

In doing this, the spiritual abuser sets himself up as someone you're supposed to trust, someone who knows you and knows your life better than anyone and is using his discernment to keep you from making big mistakes that might blow everything up. Because hey, you've blown some things up in the past all by yourself, haven't you? 

Bam. He's now your confidant. He's your best friend. He's the one you turn to to help you make your decisions so that you don't make those mistakes. And once he's got you coming to him first, then it's not a big step before he has you coming to him exclusively. And now, you're his. 

He can guide you however he wants. 

He'll usually start with this: by telling you what kinds of things you can bring to either him or the church and which kinds of things you can't. 

Maybe you're a person who believes in the power of prayer. Maybe you're someone who reads the bulletin every week and faithfully prays for the things listed there, even the things you think are the small things. Or sometimes, the silly things. Then, something big happens in your life, and you think - I want us to pray over this. I believe in prayer, and I believe God is the one who can answer this. 

So you ask for prayer. 

But the spiritual abuser won't let you have prayer. It's misguided, he tells you, to ask for prayer for this. You don't need to ask for prayer for this. You, he says, are just trying to draw attention to yourself. But hey, he'll pray with you. Yes, that's a good idea. The two of you can pray together and not have to put your life on public blast. 

So you pray. And the next time you ask for prayer, it's the same story. But a time or two after that, he stops praying with you, too. Your life, he says, is such a wreck. It makes his head spin. It's clear that you don't have the kind of faith you need to have to turn your life around or truly give it to God, and if you aren't praying powerful prayers for your own self, then it's foolish to think that anyone else could pray powerful prayers for you. 

All of a sudden, your confidant, your savior, your friend has shattered your faith. Your life is a mess. It's too big of a mess for God. It's only by the goodness of the spiritual abuser's heart that he even puts up with you. And it's a good thing he does because if it wasn't for him, you'd really be making an embarrassment of yourself. He's doing you a favor. 

Except...he's built a wall between you and God and told you that there's no way you can cross it. There's no way you can get back to God. You're going to need another savior. 

And...surprise...it's him. 

Just like that, with all the plaster of "good intentions" smeared all over it, you belong to your spiritual abuser. (So he thinks.)