Emotionalism and manipulators in the church
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Emotionalism and manipulators in the church
Issue #132
The structure of the petitions in the Lord's prayer are similar to the commands in the Ten Commandments.
The first half of both are focused on God, and the second on us and our neighbors. It's always God's glory first, then us.
That’s why the first catechism question is...
Q1. What is the chief end of man?
A1. Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him forever.
Johannes Vos has helpful thoughts on this. He says:
...the most important element in the purpose of human life is glorifying God, while enjoying God is strictly subordinate to glorifying God.
In our lives, we should always place the chief emphasis on glorifying God. In this way, all of life is religious; all of life is service to God. The person who offers himself to God as a living sacrifice (Rom 12:1-2) will truly enjoy God, both here and hereafter. Such a person is characterized by thanksgiving.
But the person who thinks of enjoying God apart from glorifying him is in danger of supposing God exists for man, instead of man for God. Such a person is characterized by ingratitude, and everything that goes along with it—entitlement, presumptuousness, discontentment, self-involvement, ennui, etc.
But he is also likely to be characterized by something else. As Vos goes on to say,
To stress enjoying God more than glorifying God will result in a falsely mystical and emotional type of religion.
Thankless people need to fake emotionalism to get their spiritual high—and to compensate for their lack of joy.
That, by and large, is American Christianity.
It’s a falsely mystical and emotional type of ultimately man-centered religion.
We’ve made God into our big therapist in the sky. We’ve made the gospel a message of therapeutic relief, rather than a message of freedom from sin and Satan through the rulership of Christ.
David Powlison wrote:
In this new gospel, the great “evils” to be redressed do not call for any fundamental change of direction in the human heart. Instead, the problem lies in my sense of rejection from others; in my corrosive experience of life’s vanity; in my nervous sense of self-condemnation and diffidence; in the imminent threat of boredom if my music is turned off; in my fussy complaints when a long, hard road lies ahead. These are today’s significant felt needs that the gospel is bent to serve. Jesus and the church exist to make you feel loved, significant, validated, entertained, and charged up.
In other words, the gospel and the church is about you. Your enjoyment, not God’s glory. Your entertainment, not God’s glory. Your unending desire for validation, not God’s glory. Your emotional catharsis, not God’s glory.
Thus, our prayers are typically self-centered prayers, which have no concern for the glory of God. It's all me me me.
That’s why the Lord’s prayer is structured as it is.
It corrects our self-centeredness.
But don't overcorrect. Jesus still commands us to ask for daily bread. Our Father, like all good fathers, loves to bless His children—especially when they ask for His help.
Asking that your needs and even comforts be met isn’t sin. They just have to be subordinated to the glory of God.
How manipulators control people around you with a Vague Cloud of Concern
We’ve talked a bit about manipulators in the past. Especially how to identify and avoid them, and how to escape their clutches.
It is therefore entirely possible that you will run across this situation at some point:
When you identify a manipulator and realize what he is up to, and stop cooperating, he loses the ability to control you. When this happens, he will manage the situation by trying to control how others see you.
One major tactic we’ve seen over and over again is what we call the Vague Cloud of Concern.
This is where the manipulator finds or creates an opportunity to tell someone—generally a mutual acquaintance or friend—that they have some serious but extremely non-specific concern about you.
It goes something like this…
Mutual: I was talking to so-and-so yesterday. He seemed to be doing well.
Manipulator: Really?
Mutual: Yeah, why?
Manipulator: *long sigh* Well, I can’t go into all the details, but a lot of us are just really concerned about him.
Mutual: Man, he seemed fine. Could you be a little more specific about what’s going on?
Manipulator: Not really. Just pray for so-and-so. There are things he needs to work on.
Or something like this:
Mutual: So-and-so seems to have really connected with his new church.
Manipulator: Huh, that’s not what I heard.
Mutual: He told me he was pursuing a leadership class at the church.
Manipulator: I’m sure he is. I’m just not sure that the leadership is happy about that.
The manipulator will always keep things vague or unverifiable. That’s how you can tell that it’s manipulation rather than real concern over genuine issues.
And he’ll always frame it as a concern. It’s a way of posturing love for the individual that he is actually attempting to slander.
This tactic, in time, creates a “cloud of concern” around an individual. People distance themselves from him just because those with influence have subtly but repeatedly communicated a vague concern.
In this way, a manipulator can diminish the influence of someone who has fallen out of favor—and build an even stronger hold on others. Every time they hear these concerns repeated in various ways, they are more familiar, and so they sound more believable.
And because they generally go along with it, without any real evidence, it is very hard to break free later. People don’t like to admit they made a terrible mistake and broke off a good relationship on the basis of nothing but slanderous implications. There must have been some good reason for them to turn on a friend. The alternative is too hard to face.
In this way, Vague Clouds of Concern destroy good men and women—both the slandered, and the gullible.
It’s wicked. It’s effeminate. It’s commonplace.
Yet it is also easily identified and prevented. You just have to follow God’s law instead of going along with what is socially easy. As the Westminster Larger Catechism puts it,
The duties required in the ninth commandment are, the preserving and promoting of truth between man and man, and the good name of our neighbour, as well as our own; …defending their innocency; a ready receiving of a good report, and unwillingness to admit of an evil report, concerning them; discouraging tale-bearers,flatterers, and slanderers…
Similarly,
The sins forbidden in the ninth commandment are…undue silence in a just cause, and holding our peace when iniquity calleth for either a reproof from ourselves, or complaint to others; …slandering, backbiting, talebearing, whispering, …raising false rumors, receiving and countenancing evil reports, and stopping our ears against just defense; evil suspicion…
Bewaring of talebearers, especially when they are vague tales. If you hear concerns about someone, simply go to the person and ask them about it. That way they can answer the accusations. Often you will discover they had no idea whatever that such rumors had been circulating, and that they are utterly baseless.
Silently moving away from the “accused” is just as wicked as the initial tale-bearing. It, too, is wicked, effeminate, and commonplace.
A reader adds a useful anecdote that expands on this tactic, and how the manipulator uses his influence to prevent those in his orbit from following God’s ways, rather than his own:
Something that I've seen used a few times alongside this tactic is the manipulator taking sort of a gatekeeper role between the targeted person and his acquaintances. I've been given these cloud of concern lines along with something like “[So and so] left a lot of things unresolved that last time we talked. The way our conversation ended was not good. I think it best if you don't speak with him much beyond asking him to resolve things with us. It's stuff between us and there's no reason to get more people involved, but if you carry on your friendship as usual it will only encourage him and make him feel like the way he left is okay.” This has worked shockingly well such that good friends think they are doing the right and loving thing by not even talking to the target.
Are you being a manipulator?
There is a blurry boundary between being a godly persuader and an ungodly manipulator.
Sometimes, godly persuasion will come across as ungodly manipulation.
Sometimes, ungodly manipulation will be cloaked as godly persuasion.
It’s a tricky distinction that spouses, parents, pastors, friends, and brothers must discern and navigate.
Here are some incomplete thoughts on doing this:
First, it is important to understand the key distinction between a persuader and a manipulator is their orientation. One is fundamentally oriented toward truth (i.e., toward Christ); the other toward himself.
This goes back to what we started with: God-centered v. man-centered religion.
A persuader persuades by presenting reality as it is. He can allow all the facts to be heard, and his case will still stand. Also, a persuader will adjust his argument as new facts are presented. He can do this because his main motivation is conformity to truth, and not merely a personal agenda.
A manipulator, by contrast, manipulates reality to fit an agenda. He dos this by maximizing and minimizing aspects of reality towards the end of achieving his own goals. He isn’t trying to align someone with truth—but rather with him.
If you’re not sure about whether you are being a manipulator or a persuader, or if you’re worried that you’re slipping into manipulative tactics, ask yourself:
Why am I persuading this person to change their mind? Is it for my benefit, or their benefit?
Have I listened to their reasoning for why they believe or behave as they do? Did I engage with their strongest points, or try to maneuver around them?
Btw, you can also apply these questions to a situation if you think someone might be trying to manipulate you.
There are people who want to act like there isn’t such a thing as manipulation. Often—no surprises here—these people are manipulative. Don’t be taken in. Proverbs warns about evil men and women who play on our weakness and temptations for their own sinful purposes.
That’s manipulation.
But there are also people who act like all persuasion—which is to say, counsel or correction—is manipulative. Many will play the manipulation card to evade legitimate corrective counsel. They position themselves as merely a victim.
Ironically, playing the victim is a form of manipulation. Manipulators are always looking out for number 1. They will twist the truth to protect themselves. And they won't budge an inch on any point if it means admitting that they are wrong.
The manipulative leader will label those who don’t go along with his agenda as rebellious, weak, or pitiful.
The manipulative victim will label those who legitimately exercise authority or issue loving correction as manipulators, tyrants, or bullies.
They are two sides to the same coin. Manipulators are victims with power. Victims are manipulators without power. This is why the oppressed can so easily and quickly transform into the oppressors.
Christians take ownership for their sins and submit to the truth of God’s Word. In doing so, they avoid the ditches of being a victim or a manipulator.
Oh yes, lessons were learned…
We learned that many conservative churches would prostrate to the state, even though it didn’t make any sense.
We learned that many “winsome and reasonable” pastors could quickly transform into tyrannical authoritarians when anyone questioned their prostrating to the state.
We learned that those pastors would use faux-righteous manipulation tactics to slander their members who questioned them, by implying or straight-out saying that they don’t love their neighbors.
We learned that many pastors who didn’t bow down to the governmental insanity still collapsed to the irrational fears of the masses, going along with wickedness because their congregations were afraid and wanted it, rather than actually shepherding their congregation in the fear of the Lord.
We learned that even Christians would throw aside all they knew about scripture, basic science, and worship itself—and divide themselves from precious friends and families over the incredible stupidity of lockdowns, masks and vaccines.
And we’re about to learn that few of these pastors or Christians possess to humility to confess that they were wrong—even in the light of indisputable evidence—nor make amends were possible.
Lessons were learned.
If a label is a smokescreen, localism is a gusty wind
There is a subsection of Reformed folks—which seems to be growing—characterized by a kind of formalism or idealism, detached from reality on the ground.
Think of it as “labelism”—an attitude that is primarily concerned with checking a box on a checklist.
Labelists tend to fall into one (or both) of two categories:
They spend a lot of time on social media, sharing, consuming, and debating reformed content—especially the Current Issues popular in all the various Reformed niches.
They initially came to Reformed convictions through social media or other online content—largely independent of their local congregation.
One way or another, for labelists, the internet has an outsized role in their theological identity. As a result, when they assess other men, and especially the quality of churches, they tend to avoid in-person, on-the-ground appraisals. It’s all remote, from the cloud, with a series of words or phrases they consult as a litmus test for quality:
“Weekly communion?”
“Postmillennial?”
“Family integrated?”
“Real wine?”
“Piano?”
“Drums?”
“Psalms?”
“Psalms only?”
“Complementarian or patriarchal?”
“FV?”
“Two or three office?”
“Sunday school?”
“Homeschool?”
“Public schools?”
Etc etc.
Note up front that we are not saying these are unimportant issues. Many are. But for labelists, the checklist works like an equation in their head. If you check all their boxes, then you’re a good church. If you lack a component or, perhaps, possess something on a negative checklist, then you’re probably a bad church.
This is how labelists judge churches—and people—from afar.
But here’s the thing: labels don’t confer reality. They should reflect reality—yet they often don’t. This is clear once you’ve traveled and been around for a while.
But it’s hard-to-impossible to see if you are viewing the world through the lens of the internet.
Michael has been to many, many churches. He has seen covenant renewal worship done well…and he has seen it be absolutely dreadful. He has seen shallow exclusive psalmody, and deep exclusive psalmody. Reverent worship music with a band. Irreverent worship music with a piano. We’ve seen postmillennialists act like premillennialists, and complementarians function in a way that looks like biblical and godly patriarchy. We’ve seen public schoolers exceed homeschoolers in practical and spiritual excellence, and we’ve seen mousy effeminate sons of big macho “patriarchalists.”
This is not theoretical. This wasn’t on a stream. It’s stuff we have witnessed with our own eyes. We have shared meals and got to know people. We have been in their homes.
A checklist is no replacement for localism.
Again, we’re not saying that what these labels or phrases represent are unimportant. They are important.
Our point is that the internet age makes it easy to appear to have the form of godliness, through labels, when in reality you lack its power (2 Tim 3:5).
Everyone starts to know the real you, and the real nature of a particular church, when they commit to life lived together locally.
There’s no hiding from that.
This is obvious if you think about how we judge people and institutions in pretty much any other area of life, from work to marriage. We know, for instance, that just because a job offers the right salary and the right position, and checks the right boxes, does not guarantee that it’s a good place to work.
But for some reason, we are wiser when it comes to employment and spouses than we often are with churches.
If a label is a smokescreen, localism is a gusty wind.
Other content this week:
Manhood Restored interviews Michael on masculinity and gravitas
Notable:
Across [Roald Dahl’s] beloved children’s books, hundreds of the author’s words have been changed or entirely removed in a bid for ‘relevancy’
Get old printings of physical books if you want to be sure you’re reading what the authors actually wrote. Kindle can update anything, any time…
In August of 2021, 90 percent of U.S. adults who worked from home because of the pandemic guessed that at least 40 percent of other Americans did the same. In reality, only 13 percent of people worked from home (source). The laptop class has no clue how other people live. There was never a lockdown. There was just upper-middle-class people hiding while working-class people delivered things to them.
—Rob Henderson
Talk again soon,
Bnonn & Michael