Four Tools of Spiritual Manipulators

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by Jonathan

I grew up in a very conservative subculture of an already conservative homeschool culture, in a pretty conservative stream of the Christian faith. Though I learned much from these experiences and am grateful for them, they laid the foundation for spiritual manipulation later in life. The Manipulators used words and phrases that I had heard before. They seemed biblical and very right, but they were not.

I had been groomed for this. My family of origin was very loving, but that did not prevent me from absorbing patterns of interaction that left me wide open to spiritual manipulation. A foundation had been laid that gave the Manipulators their tools—tools that inflicted deep pain. Tools that I’m just now beginning to recognize.

My hope is that this article will expose these tools and show how manipulators wield them. Many spiritual manipulators follow a pattern. They use the same key words, the same accusations, the same tactics.  Their weapons can leave the Target breathless, alone, and without recourse.  There is no safe place to hide.  If you’ve ever been targeted, you’ll know the pain and confusion these four tools can inflict.

In brief, spiritual manipulators tend to use four tools: they accuse the Target of disrespect, gossip, pride, and having a “blind spot.”  Manipulators love using these four accusations, regardless of their truth. They are easy to drop on people, and usually the purpose is not to bring the Target back to Jesus, but to manipulate the Target and/or protect the Manipulator.

If you are accused of these things, examine the accusations carefully. Seek God’s counsel and the wisdom of trusted friends. It took years for me to recover from some of these accusations, and that only happened after many mature church leaders and friends (and a good therapist) countered and defused them.

TOOL #1: Disrespect

When the Manipulator senses any sort of disagreement or eroding influence, he or she will accuse the Target of disrespect. Manipulators will often start with the accusation of disrespect, hoping the Target will apologize quickly and stop whatever action is “disrespectful.”

Be very, very careful when you hear the word “respect” being thrown around, especially in conflict. In controlling religious circles, it is a magical tool used to shut people up. It is often used by Manipulators to protect those in power, believing that if everyone would just be quiet and “respectful,” it would all be okay. But the trouble is, the minute you have to start demanding respect, you’ve lost it. Yes, of course, we are told to respect those in authority, the government, church leaders, etc. However, that truth is not a prohibition on kindly disagreeing and respectfully bringing up things you see as inconsistencies or flaws.

If you’re accused of disrespect, check your motives, check with some trusted counselors outside the situation, and watch out for Tool #2.

TOOL #2: Gossip

Manipulators will use a w i d e definition of gossip—and apply it liberally.  They love labeling any negative talk “gossip,” even if it’s not. They will preach about it, talk about it, and elevate the sin of gossip to the level of blasphemy. By labeling all talk of this sort “gossip,” they magically remove their own responsibility to deal with the truth.

Be aware that despite all the preaching and teaching on gossip, a concrete definition will be absent.  For example, if reporting a possible crime to the authorities is “gossip,” it’s time to re-examine the definitions.

I heard some really bad stuff about a person once, so I went to the person directly and asked if it were true. Their incredulous response: “You’re asking me to verify gossip?!” Well, I guess, but that’s not gossip. I wasn’t spreading false information, and I wasn’t lying about anyone; I was simply going to the person who was the object of the gossip and asking about some things that very much pertained to my life. I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. However, the Manipulator accused me of gossiping.

When being accused of gossip, don’t be surprised if the Manipulator also blames you for “taking up another’s offense.” Feel free to remind him, respectfully, that sometimes the Bible actually commands us to take up another’s offense, especially when the other person is powerless to defend him or herself.

If you’re accused of gossip, review the Biblical definition, check your heart, and watch out for Tool #3.

TOOL #3: Pride

If the first two tools don’t work, manipulators will often accuse the Target of pride.  Manipulators seem to love the blanket accusation of pride. If the Target disagrees or has her own opinion (of events or ideas), she is arrogant and prideful. A more humble person would see the correctness and rightness of the Manipulator.

This type of accusation puts the Target in an awkward position. The Target can’t really argue back, because that just reinforces the Manipulator’s point. The Target is left with no alternative but to accept this accusation, and thus this is a very useful tool for manipulators.  Furthermore, since we are taught from a very early age that pride is one of the worst sins ever, this accusation carries a lot of weight. We know it’s serious business.

This accusation in particular rocked my world.  I now realize that it was not made in good faith.  It was not made to help me get closer to Jesus; the accusation was made to control me—to control my behavior. And control me it did. For years, I questioned everything I did, everything I said. “Am I being prideful? Does this look arrogant?” It was a life without freedom, a life without grace.

Fortunately, through wise encouragement from older Christians and a good counselor, I was able to see the damage done by the Manipulator. The fear of coming across as prideful or arrogant is still there. The voice of the Manipulator still rings loud and clear. However, I don’t listen to that voice as much as I used to. I’ve realized that some of the things about me that were labeled “arrogant” and “prideful” are in fact gifts from God. Gifts to serve the Church, not sins to confess. I have found freedom.

TOOL # 4: The Blind Spot

Manipulators tend to save this one for last. If they’ve tried everything else and are unable to manipulate the Target, they may simply accuse the Target of “having blind spots.” And if the target denies the existence of a particular blind spot, that’s taken as proof of its existence.

This is the Manipulator’s perfect tool.

Do we have blind spots, spiritually? Yup, probably. And could God use a Manipulator to reveal those blind spots? Maybe. But it seems that confronting blind spots is better done by a caring friend or a close confidant— not a Manipulator who uses the “doctrine” of blind spots as a last resort, with the end goal being control.

Spiritual manipulators are angered and annoyed by people who aren’t easily manipulated. And although anger can be holy, it is one of the surest signs of a spiritual manipulator who’s out of a job. A spiritual manipulator who can’t manipulate is like a gun with a knot in the barrel. So be careful!

Spiritual manipulation hurts and wounds—deeply.  If you’ve been targeted, may God in his infinite mercy restore the damage done. May he provide deep peace and a safe shelter. May you see the character of his heart, washed clean of the manipulators who used God’s words to damage and control rather than to heal and set free.

Grace to you all.

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I originally published this article at Recovering Grace under the pseudonym Mark Andrews. It has been slightly edited for a broader audience. This is my story. I hope and pray that publishing this piece to a wider audience will help at least a few people recognize, heal from, and avoid, spiritual manipulators.

“I’m Not Supposed to Have Needs” {A Life Overseas}

Elizabeth is over at A Life Overseas today, continuing her series on life in ministry families. Here’s a snippet:

The idea that “other people’s needs are more important than my own” sounds very spiritual. It sounds very sacrificial and giving. But we are all of us humans, created and finite beings with limited resources. Our lives are powered by the Holy Spirit, true, but none of us can survive if we think we are only here for others, or if other’s needs are always more important than our own.

There’s a deeper, more insidious lie at work here, too. When we believe the lie that the only purpose of our life is to serve other people, we buy into the falsehood that we earn our worth. That our performance justifies our existence. That what we do, the service we yield for others, is what makes us valuable in both God’s eyes and other people’s eyes.

 You can read the entire article here.

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The Purpose of Marriage is Not to Make You Holy {A Life Overseas}

by Jonathan

Before we moved abroad, we did some marriage counseling. What I mean is, we sat in an old guy’s office for fifteen hours and cried. It was amazing.

He told us our marriage could be a safe-haven on the field. Or not.

He said we could strengthen and encourage each other on the field. Or not.

He said that our marriage could bring peace and stamina and even joy to the mission field. Or not.

He was right.

Continue reading at A Life Overseas…

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When Baby Snuggles Make Me Grateful for Modern Medicine

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by Elizabeth

Warning: This is a frank discussion of childbirth complications. Men in particular (and perhaps pregnant women) may not wish to continue reading any further. You will not find statistics here; rather, you will find my story. It is a story of immeasurable thankfulness.

My kids were extra snuggly today. (The weather is still cool enough to want to snuggle.) As I wrapped my arms around the Baby and sang to her, I remembered afresh how miraculous it is that I’m even alive and able to hold her.

When she was three weeks old, I was so weak I could barely get out of bed to go to the bathroom. The narcotics I had on hand were barely touching the abdominal pain. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I wondered if I was going to die. Not the seizure coma death type of fear I talk about so much, but a foreboding that I might not live to see my baby grow up. I wanted her to know how fiercely she was loved, and I wrote her a note to tell her so.

Later that day, emergency room doctors diagnosed me with endometritis — a uterine infection which can, they told me, spread to the bloodstream if left unchecked. I received intravenous antibiotics, spent the night in the hospital, and took heavy-duty oral antibiotics for the next week. I needed another full week of people bringing us meals and watching my older kids for my strength to return.

I wouldn’t have lived long enough to require those life-saving antibiotics if it hadn’t been for other modern obstetric interventions. I’d hemorrhaged at 10 days postpartum and required a semi-emergent D&C (dilation and curettage, my first, and so far only, surgery). Even before that, I’d hemorrhaged in the hospital an hour after her birth. It took, for all you medical people out there, two bags of Pitocin, one shot of Methergine, and another of Hemabate, alongside an already-nursing baby and that delightful practice of fundal massage, to stem the bleeding. Just as we began discussing blood transfusions, the hemorrhage finally abated.

I’m not sure I would even have been alive to have a fourth baby without those same hemorrhage-halting drugs for my second baby, whose nearly 10-pound weight stretched my uterus so far it had trouble contracting again, and whose large head tore my cervix, requiring a clamp to stop the bleeding. (I think it’s fairly obvious why my propensity to postpartum hemorrhage was a reason I didn’t want to move overseas in the first place.)

When I think about the fact that before oxytocic drugs, hemorrhage was a huge maternal killer (and still is in some parts of the world), I am thankful I didn’t die during my fourth birth or in the ensuing weeks of infection and illness. I am thankful I didn’t die during my second birth, either. Without modern medicine, I might not have lived to watch my second born walk at 11 months, or enjoy him as the laughingest baby I’d ever known. I might not have been around to watch him over and over again as he earned his “Danger Baby” nickname.

I might not have been around to watch him refuse to talk till he was three, communicating only through gestures and nods, simply because he didn’t want to talk. I wouldn’t have been around to watch his two-year old self lay on his floor every night, looking at board books with his stuffed Tigger till he was so tired he fell asleep there.

Without modern medicine, I wouldn’t be able to snuggle my Baby and sing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” or her favorite Steve Green’s Hide ‘Em in Your Heart song “When I am Afraid I Will Trust in You.” I wouldn’t be able to belly-laugh at her dinnertime jokes.  I wouldn’t be around to watch her dance like a ballerina or to receive her sweet kisses.

I am profoundly grateful to the doctors, nurses, and midwife who treated my postpartum hemorrhages and infection. Because of you and the scientists who created those life-saving drugs, I can enjoy my four precious children. Because of you, I can cuddle with them on a couch in Cambodia. From my house to your hospital, I thank you.

Eat Cake.

My daughter brought this to me and proudly proclaimed, “I just wrote my first blog!” She has granted me permission to share it with you. If she decides to continue writing, all future posts will be categorized under “Famuly.”  : )

— Jonathan T.

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