Preventing The Scar Of Religious Trauma In Your Children

 

Mark Laita started his career as a professional photographer for some of the biggest corporate companies in the world, but left it to pursue a project called "Soft White Underbelly" in which he interviews prostitutes, drug addicts, PTSD survivors, corrupt NYPD cops, drifters, victims of incest and abuse--basically all the people we avoid in polite society--and gives them a platform to tell their story. I appreciate his interview style, as he has a deft way of interjecting when needed to advance the thread of someone's life while at other times simply sitting back and letting the story be told without interference. 

As someone who has lived with and ministered to prostitutes, criminals, gang members, drug addicts and dealers, those who are developmentally handicapped, and the mentally ill, I'm not easily scandalized by these types of interviews, and I appreciate his channel because of the perspective it affords. As a secularist, he's not pushing an agenda and he bears no judgement towards those whom he interviews, who have most likely been judged by society their entire lives. Some of the interviews are better than others, and some are simply amazing story-tellers who have suffered the butt-end of life with remarkable resilience.  

One particular interview I watched last night was with a woman named Chasya who grew up in a Hassidic/Ultra-Orthodox Jewish family in Brooklyn (please note that Chasya in the interview is dressed rather revealingly, so I would advise averting the eyes if you are a man planning to watch and simply listen to the audio, or maybe don't watch at all). Her family was "religious" in the strictest sense of the word--large family (8 children), severe discipline by her parents, and strict adherence to the Jewish law. It was also religion in the worst sense of the word--fear-based, no toleration for dissention or individual differences, in which she experienced a lack of love and a culture of abuse and protection of the community at all costs. 

For children growing up in such perceivingly insufferable circumstances, Chasya developed a kind of religious-PTSD. While I realize this is only one side of the story, she appears in the interview to be a head-strong but kind individual. She has no reason to make up things, and such abuse and protection/cover up of abuse is indeed an issue in many of these communities (the story of Rabbi Baruch Lebovits in Brooklyn is one disturbing example of a "protect the community at all costs" situation). This happens in Orthodox Jewish communities, it happens in Protestant churches, in religious cults, and yes, it happens in the Catholic Church as well. It is a scandal and a mar that will earn its millstone at the Final Judgement.

We are close with a family in our traditional Catholic circle in which our friend suffered a similar (though not abusive) scarring due to a fear-based religion (in this case, her parents' Traditional Catholicism). Our friend has a sensitivity to heavy-handed and sensationalist "end-times" portrayals of the faith because of her upbringing. And yet the way our friend is raising her children is one in which she has balanced keeping the Faith while infusing extra-helpings of love, kindness, and accceptance in her family. They are one of the most lovely, faithful, and--dare I say it, normal families we have the privilege of knowing.

I want to emphasize the "normal" thing for a moment, because that is something I have made a point of considering in the way my wife and I raise our own family. Traditional Catholicism can be a tough tightrope to walk. Some in traditional circles pride themselves on modest dress, veiling, and more-regimented family prayer. Because I grew up in an a-religious household, this always held a kind of mysitical quality for me, and I was attracted to it. But I imagine, given my particular temperament, were I to be raised this way, I may have rebelled and become a full-on Buddhist or secular humanist. 

Thankfully our particular traditional community is not cliquey or fringey; if it was, we probably wouldn't have been invested in it as long as we have been. 

My wife and I do discuss sometimes whether we are doing things the "right" way. On the way back from the beach yesterday, and other trips, we play secular music. I want to like Christian music, but I just don't. Our kids know who Post-Malone and Nas are. I encourage my daughter to veil, but don't force her. We pray the family rosary, but not ritualistically or every evening. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but we are not good at playing parts we are not made for. We try to not strain out gnats while letting camels through. Because I grew up drinking in high school, when I got to college I didn't go off the rails too much. I think that's something parents struggle with--how tight to keep the reigns and for how long. I saw more than one sheltered student go completely nuts when they were given the freedom college affords, and that's something, personally, I would like to avoid with my own kids by maybe bleeding the valve a little when they are younger. But that's for each individual couple to discern. 

Religion is a powerful force for good, but it can be perverted and weaponized as a menas of control, like all things. Our Lord was hard on the Pharisees, and yet Mary and Joseph, and apostles like Peter, were model Jews and adherants to the Law as well. Tradition melded with charity has a great potential for renewal of the Church. Christianity, especially, has the greatest potential for good because it holds love as the center hub that holds all the spokes; without it, we are resounding gongs, as St. Paul says. And true religion is carrying for widows and orphans, as St. James says, so it is not "religion" that is the enemy; religion is the exoskeleton that protects the heart and other internal organs of faith. Were we not to have a skeleton--the bones of structure and doctrine--we would be a blob of skin and blood unable to exercise our body and carry out the work of charity. 

I think it's important when we raise our children to make sure they always know they are loved and accepted for who they are. This can be hard if a child comes out as having same-sex attraction, for instance, because we must love them but cannot accept this particular lifestyle because of the tenants of our faith (this can apply to other situations as well, of course). That doesn't make us religious bigots, and takes great discernment when it comes to actually how to live out that love as a parent and, more importantly, communicate it to the child. And we should never weaponize religion as a tool for coersion or fear lest we inflict potential scars of religious trauma and encourage the association of religion with things contrary to love (remember, discipline is not contrary to love, but must be exacted appropriately). If we want our children to continue in the faith, we must live it ourselves and not succumb to religious hypocricy. It's ok to be super-trad, as long as you have love. It's ok to be more 'normy' as well, as long as you have love. Love is the greatest commandment, brothers with faith and hope, but the greatest of these (1 Cor13:13).

When we encounter those, like the woman in the interview I described above, who have suffered great religious trauma, we must be compassionate and sensitive to the deep scars such upbringings can inflict. We must model for our own children and the world what true religion looks like. We should consider tendencies to prophelitization in such circumstances, and consider whether a different approach--simply listening, not judging, etc--may be more approriate. Healing from such trauma can take a long time for many of these individuals. So we must not inflict further pain by our actions, but model true charity and the tenants of our religion as our Lord prescribed.