I’ve been listening to a podcast, The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill, which is both interesting and painful. What pains me most is the testimonies of those hurt by toxic leaders who mistreat others in the name of Christ.

I find myself identifying with them – a few years ago, I was part of a ministry in which church leaders were anything but godly and whose decisions and behavior devastated our family and many of our friends. I’ve had to pause a few times and confess, again, anger towards those men, as feelings resurfaced that I thought were long buried.

Sadly, many of us have stories like these – maybe not as extreme as the testimonies from Mars Hill. Still, we have been hurt by those claiming to be Christians, and those wounds fester and the pain from them can affect our future ministries, relationships, and thoughts.

And, yet, it’s complicated. As I think on my traumatic experience, I know there are people in that same ministry – still today – who love the leadership, respect them, support them. How is that possible?? Do they not know who these men are and what they’ve done??

On the other hand, I have friends who have been hurt by ministries I’ve been part of — ministries that I love and whose leadership I support. They can’t understand how I can speak highly of people who have devastated them. Do I shun those ministries, in support of my friends? Do I shun my friends, in support of the ministries? Is it possible to support both? Why am I not as outraged on their behalf as I am on mine? Conversely, why I can’t I justify the actions of people who have wounded me when I can justify those who haven’t?

Which leads me to the reality that I am sinful. I know this, theologically. But I tend to overlook it, practically. I’m great at recognizing the sins of others. Really great. But recognizing my own sins? Not so much. And, yet, I’m sure, in the 20+ years I’ve been in ministry, that I have hurt others. I know there have been times I’ve lashed out at students. I’ve said things I shouldn’t, criticized, been negative, lacking in mercy. And those words may very likely have sunk deep, those wounds festered. They may be looking back on me as someone who hurt them, as the root of their own spiritual trauma. I may not be as bad as the pastor in the podcast, or the leaders at the church that so wounded us, but sin is sin. And I’d get a lot farther in my own sanctification if I focused more on my own sin and less on others’.

Spiritual trauma is real. It hurts and recovery takes time. If you have experienced it, I recommend that, if possible, you seek the help of a Christian counselor who will help you work through those emotions. What we have to do, and what is most difficult, is forgive. Know that forgiveness isn’t the same as excusing. There’s no excusing some behavior. But we can forgive. We forgive because God forgave us. We forgive because it frees us. We forgive and know that God, not us, is the ultimate judge. If we focus on revenge, we’ll miss out on the abundant life God has for us.

Forgiveness isn’t a one-time event. I’ve had to go back and forgive again and again – every time the memories return. But I choose to keep forgiving, not to give Satan a foothold in my mind and heart. And I choose to check my own heart, my own behavior. I choose today to reflect Christ in what I do and say, in how I treat people. I choose to seek the forgiveness of those I’ve hurt, and to do all I can not to hurt others. I want to be an instrument of healing, encouragement, and light. I want people to see Jesus in me and to draw closer to Him as a result.