The Slow Disintegration of Theological Trauma

By Richard Gorman, Jr. MA, M.Div., M.Ed. LPC-MHSP (temp).

During a session one day a client disclosed that “one of the first bible verses I ever learned was ‘the heart is wicked and evil and you can’t trust it.’ I must’ve been 4 or 5 years old. I mean, if that’s where you start, I’m not sure where you go from there?”

Indeed.

This client’s memorization of an ancient phrase from the Old Testament prophet Jeremiah helped me better understand her decades-long battles with depression, anxiety, shame and self-contempt—all characteristics of theological trauma.

So, what is Theological Trauma. . .and who are you to say anything about it?

Religious trauma carries uniquely complex effects. I consider “theological trauma” to be a specific subset of spiritual trauma. Theological trauma is distinct because it resides in the belief system of a spiritual community. The effects of theological trauma tend to creep slowly into the deep recesses of one’s psychology—entrenching itself over time and eventually forming significant aspect of internal working model—the primary lens by which a person understands themselves, relationships, the world and even God. Unfortunately, the devastating effects of theological trauma tend to be realized long after the damage has been done.

Before I go any further, let me share a bit about myself: I was a seminarytrained Christian pastor for close to 20 years. I still consider my Christian spirituality fundamental to my identity. During my years in pastoral ministry I walked alongside adults working through the debilitating and persistent effects of self-contempt due to theological trauma. In my experience the doctrinal tenet that contributes most devastatingly to theological trauma is a construct known as “total depravity.”

“Total. . .huh!!??”

Though there is a long and complex historical development of this doctrine (as well as significant variations), the basic idea of ‘total depravity’ is that human beings at their essence are fundamentally bad--The deepest part of us is ‘sinful’ and, therefore, unworthy of love. Totally depraved, human beings are constitutionally incapable of doing or being anything good. There is nothing of value that we bring to the table.

If you’re not familiar with this concept it can be a lot to take in.

One way I put this in perspective is to consider what I would think (or do) if I overheard a parent engaging their child in this way. They might say something like: “Look, kid. This is hard to say. But the most essential and deepest parts of you are fundamentally bad. In fact, there is nothing good about you. The only reason that I am willing to have anything to do with you is, well, because I am so good. So you better be thankful.”

Yes, this doctrine can be as bad as it sounds.

Remarkably, this doctrine is alive and well in many evangelical and reformed church communities. Admittedly, the ways that church communities handle this doctrine fall along a wide spectrum. Some are ‘softer’ and more nuanced while others are more explicit and heavy-handed. Additionally, not everyone steeped in this doctrine suffer obvious ill-effects. Many are able to integrate it and carry on.

But many are left deeply damaged. How does the doctrine of ‘total depravity’ do damage?

This doctrine holds that, due to our depravity, it is impossible to trust our emotions, feelings or experiences—our feelings ‘lie’ and deceive. So, if not our emotions, then what can be trusted? It is often taught that, in place of feelings, one can trust cognitive concepts about God that happen to be filtered through pastors and church authorities. In this context individuals often begin to experience a steady and systematic disintegration of mind from body, emotions and experiences.

This steady disintegration is devastating primarily because emotions serve to inform us, protect us and direct us to what we value most. Psychologist Susan David argues that Emotions, from blinding rage to wide-eyed love, are the body’s immediate physical responses to important signals from the outside world. When our senses pick up information—signs of danger, hints of romantic interest, clues that we’re being accepted or rejected by our peers—we physically adjust to these incoming messages. . .[our emotions] help us not only to survive, but also flourish.1 A communal arrangement where emotions are systematically shut down can set up a context for emotional manipulation, physical exploitation and abuse.

Susan David goes on to argue rightly that though emotions serve us they can be fleeting and unreliable. They should be evaluated for the messages they carry but they should not be denied. As a wise mentor of mine says: “Our feelings are great servants but horrible masters.”

How can we help our clients?The primary dilemma that we face is how we can help clients proceed along the journey from disintegration to integration?

Living in a state of disintegration, our adult clients who have been steeped in this doctrine often have an incredibly difficult time feeling and identifying emotions. Many meet the criteria for alexithymia. One of the primary points of engagement with clients is to help clients feel and name their emotions and identify the messages they carry, to value their emotions instead of fear them.

Oh, the irony…

It seems ironic that the healing of theological trauma requires work of integration. After all, at one point in the New Testament story of Jesus he is asked what ideas and actions are the most important? He answers, first, “to love God with your mind, heart, soul and strength.” As I see it, Jesus is providing an image of an integrated human being: Mind=cognitive, heart=emotional, soul=identity and strength=actions.” He does not deny or shut down emotions. Next, he says that we are to “love our neighbors as ourselves.” Riddled with shame and self-contempt, many of our clients find it impossible to love themselves and, therefore, are hindered in their attempts to love others well.

As therapists we have an incredible opportunity to help our clients experience wholeness, integration and recapture their ability to love well. One of the hopes I carry for my clients who suffer the effects of theological trauma is that they would fully experience the medieval saint Julian of Norwich’s powerful maxim: “We are not just made by God, we are made of God. All of us are uniquely divine.”

1 David, S. (2016). Emotional Agility: Get unstuck, embrace change and thrive in work and life. Avery.