The Accountability Parade is a blog and resource for victims of spiritual abuse and religious trauma.
What does Exvangelical mean?
November 11th 2021
A friend recently asked me what I meant when I described myself as an exvangelical. I could hear the fear in his voice. “Are you some kind of heathen now?” It can be unnerving to see our tribes fracturing, reforming, and changing. If you have not heard the exvangelical term before, or if you’re unsure of what it means, then read on.
The short answer is that the exvangelical label is a social movement of people who have left evangelicalism. The hashtag #exvangelical was fashioned by Blake Chastain in 2016 to help build “a safe space for people to find solidarity with others”. But in order to understand the exvangelical movement, we need to look closely at what exvangelicals are rejecting. That can be a little tricky. That’s because it’s extremely difficult to define what evangelicalism actually is. People have been trying to define the term for 50 years now. It’s very difficult to pin down.
The broad label of evangelical is used commonly and loosely as a way to describe a somewhat diverse group of people. We hear the word used by news outlets, pastors, and your aunt Martha almost daily. But what the heck are we talking about? We know it means Christian, but how are evangelicals distinct from broader Christianity? The term has political underpinnings, theological nuances, and is supercharged with controversy. So it may be a good practice to ask those using the term what they mean by it. We’re sure to get a variety of responses.
Oddly enough it wasn’t until Jimmy Carter won the general election in 76 that the term “evangelical” became prevalent in America. The word became synonymous with being “born again” or being “saved”. These expressions were mystical in nature but turned out to have significant social and political implications. These idioms grew out of the movements that created them and there may not have been a very wide consensus on what they actually meant. ( save from a single moment in a persons life when they said a few words in a particular order and gained everlasting life) Perhaps this is the nature of protestantism, it’s always changing, splitting off from itself, and becoming more diverse and thus, more difficult to understand.
And after all this murkiness, in comes the exvangelical label. This label doesn’t necessarily mean that a person is no longer a Christian, or that they no longer believe in God. For some it does, but for some it’s much more complicated. It could mean they reject the political affiliations of most conservative evangelicals, or that they reject the idea of God altogether, or that they reject the obstinate certainty of those legislating evangelical thought. The reasons people are leaving evangelicalism are as broad and distinct as evangelicalism itself, but make no mistake, folks are leaving in droves.
I’ve reluctantly adopted the exvangelical label after a lifetime of spiritual abuse, unsafe leadership, long seasons of existential dread and despair, and awkward agenda driven friendships. The turn key, easy breezy, let’s hold hands and sing together “community” I was sold in evangelical culture was easy come, easy go. For the most part the relationships were shallow, confusing, and only seemed to work in one fragile dynamic. With few exceptions, the full bandwidth of the human experience was not celebrated in evangelical spaces. This is not to say there are not great evangelical churches out there, but in my experience, about 95% are yucky, grosso, and are filled with a much higher concentration of fake, lonely, & frightened people than the broader culture.
All this being said, I have also had some incredible experiences in a few churches. Some relationships stuck, and they continue to grow, change, and endure. But it’s not because evangelicalism is so great. It’s because a few folks in the church decided to have courage and were not afraid of my deconstruction journey. The idea that those inside evangelicalism are more loving, more devoted, or more virtuous than the rest of us only seems to be embraced by those still flaunting the label. Like that friend who pulls up in a convertible PT Cruiser with wood paneling, it can leave the rest of us wondering, do they not know?
Matt Moore’s Gaslighting Display
What do we do as spiritual abuse survivors when faith leaders say things like “ I get that people have had bad—even traumatic—experiences in the church. But there’s not *less* sin outside of it. Leaving the church (as a whole) isn’t a retreat into safety but a headlong dive into further trauma and personal damage.” – Matt Moore
This statement from Matt is a classic example of gaslighting. Gaslighting is a term now used as short hand to describe when a manipulator holds an excessive amount of power over another person’s understanding of reality. These abusers are often so convincing that victims begin to question their own opinions, insights, and/or instincts altogether. Many are even afraid to leave the relationship, set up healthy boundaries, or discuss the unhealthy power dynamics in the relationship. We get this term from the 1944 film Gaslight ( a psychological thriller directed by George Cukor ) in which a young woman is slowly manipulated by her husband into believing that she is descending into insanity. The interesting thing about gaslighting is that those who are doing it may or may not realize they are trying to manipulate. In faith communities this type of manipulation can become so common that it is often overlooked as normal or even noble. Gaslighting is a gradual form of questioning the victim’s reality so fervently that they begin to question it too. It is typical for those using this form of manipulation to deny the experiences of others, to insinuate that their feelings or thoughts or questions are not valid, or to simply lie-denying reality all together.
This statement from Matt is also perpetuating fear-a common technique for leaders who are quick to manipulate. To say those who are seeking healing from spiritual trauma, religious abuse, or predatory faith leaders, are taking “a headlong dive into further trauma and personal damage” is itself abusive. Matt is assuming to know better than the victim, and he places himself as the “gatekeeper” of what is proper, healthy, or responsible for a person who is seeking recovery. He is making himself into the arbiter of reality. “Spiritual savior complex” is a term I use to describe faith leaders who consider themselves helpers or benevolent guides to those they feel are below them, but their help often ends up doing more harm than good.
It seems silly to offer the balm of “more church” to the wound of “church hurt”. It can come across as insulting and belittling. Some people can find a way to heal in religious spaces and some can’t. For some walking into a church can be really triggering. I’ve known people who have had serious physiological problems when entering religious environments, like an elevated heartrate, confusion, disorientation, or hypervigilance. These can be stressors to the nervous system that simply outweigh any of the benefits the environment is offering. This doesn’t make the victim bad, hereticical, or ungodly. It simply makes them a victim and that should be okay.
Unfortunately this type of abuse, manipulation, and victim shaming is all too common in our evangelical spaces. Matt is not a random voice from left field. He is deeply rooted in the Piper family being married to John Piper’s adopted daughter Tailtha Piper Moore ( a wonderful photographer ). Perhaps Matt doesn’t yet understand how ignorant or arrogant he appears. Maybe this is because domineering, bullying, and unethical behavior has become so common at Bethlehem Baptist, at least according to former pastor Bryan Pickering. It appears to be the water these leaders are swimming in.
-Danny Brewer
