The Monstrous Truth

I think most people could give a good description of their monster. Not me. I do not really know how to describe what my monster looks like, because they are not just one person. They were my friends. Or at least, I thought they were. But where I grew up, monsters hid among the congregation, and some of them stood behind the pulpit, claiming to be the mouthpiece of God Himself.

I grew up in rural Iowa, in a small holiness pentacostal church. We thought we were special, chosen by God, the only ones who would be in Heaven. As a woman, I was taught my only real value was to marry and have children, so I needed to guard my purity against those who would try to steal it from my future husband. I was trained to sing, to play the piano, and to be meek and quiet, and was given every blessed assurance that I would be found by the man God had for me.

If we ever questioned anything, even the clothing standards, we were labeled as rebellious and guided to the altar to pray it through. But I learned a trick. I would spin around and scream nonsensical babbling and they would leave me alone, thinking God had gotten through to me.

Then I went to a small Bible college in Pennsylvania, and I thought I could put a face to my monster, the president of that school. He was dangerous. He spoke words of hatred and spite with every breath. He damaged countless lives, and to this day has not been held accountable for his actions. I do not know if he has stooped so low as to attack anyone sexually, but he held a gun to a student's head at a banquet once. He claimed it was unloaded, but I don't know. He exploited my physical labor and that of all of the students at the school during the three years I was there, so that he did not have to hire workers. He embezzled funds from the school, and covered it up by overcharging his unemployed students and not paying his teachers.

He has destroyed men's and women's reputations with a phone call, disguising it all as a prayer request. He expelled students for being gay, for loving someone he had chosen for another, for anything and everything you could possibly think of. The list goes on and on. And yet I stayed, because if I left before I graduated, I would be ridiculed, and I could not stand the thought of that.

When I graduated, I thought that maybe I was done, I could leave it all behind and just go back to living a quiet life and wait for my Prince Charming to come visit my church, and save me from it all. I wanted a nice man, who would preach and I would sing and we would be happy together. The details were irrelevant. And he did come. But it wouldn't end the way I thought it should. Does it ever?

I met a man. I love that man still. He asked me to marry him, to go away with him, to sing while he preached. And I said YES! He had such ideas! Ideas that a woman should be allowed to work outside the home, wear pants and cut her hair. He believed that a woman had as much right to respect as any man, and that she could and should be trusted to make decisions. He pushed me and pushed me to be independent, told me over and over that I was strong and brave and smart until I believed it.

When my husband asked me to leave the Holiness Movement with him, I was terrified. It was all I knew. I believed that leaving would seal my fate and I would be sent straight to hell for it, but two years with this man had taught me it was really okay to question what did not make sense or could not be found in Scripture. I had attached my worth and even my salvation in what I looked like.

Two years of life outside of this movement, and I was happy and content and learning all about the world outside. It was like taking that first breath of fresh air after being underwater. But my husband had a secret that was eating him alive. He finally told me. He was gay. When he asked for a divorce and I was devastated. I loved him so much! How was it possible that I was being asked to let him go? We had a son together, a little boy, who needed to family that is whole!

It's been a year and a half since the divorce. He has found love, and I am learning to live. Oh, it's still hurts sometimes, but I have a little boy who brings me an immeasurable amount of joy and laughter. Life never goes the way we think it will, but that doesn't mean it is not good. I found that leaving the church movement, cult, whatever you want to think of it as, was all it took to conquer my monster. Once I left, they could not hurt me anymore. They keep you in the dark so you have to rely on what they tell you to stay safe from the outside world. If you close your eyes to everything and hear only their voice, of course you would stay! But when you open your eyes and let truth in, that is when they lose power.

My monster was the Holiness Movement. I faced my monster by leaving it behind. I truly thought my monster had the face of one man, who hurt me and my former spouse so badly over and over. But when I left all the pain behind, and my head had a chance to clear, I saw that his monster is the same as mine.

Our monster is the idea that one Christian is better than another simply because of the clothes that they wear or how long their hair is, or how loudly they yell when they preach, or how long the song service can go because people are running around like maniacs. Our monster is the value that its people put on one human life over another, choosing to ignore all other marginalized groups in favor of those most convenient to their cause. Our monster chooses hate over love and acceptance to those different from them.