Dr. Diane Langberg is a practicing psychologist whose clinical expertise includes 50 years of working with trauma survivors and clergy. She speaks internationally on topics related to women, trauma, ministry and the Christian life. She spoke to en during her recent visit to the UK.
RC: How did you get going on your journey, your calling?
DL: I think it’s important to know that in 1972 when I first started out, 50 years ago, trauma wasn’t a word – it was not a part of the diagnostic categories or a word we learned.
I began as a very young therapist who didn’t know very much, working with Vietnam veterans. I also worked with a lot of women, who would ask to see me because I was female. They began telling me things, things that I had never heard of.
My supervisor told me that women make up these hysterical stories, and my job was not to believe them, because if they did, I would contribute to their pathology. I didn’t listen to the supervisor; I listened to the women. I realised the Vietnam vets and the women had the same symptoms, and I began to think there’s more than one kind of war zone in the world. That approach helped me to learn about trauma, before post-traumatic stress disorder became a diagnostic category in 1980.
RC: That lack of definitions sounds challenging – do you see part of your role as helping survivors of trauma find their voice?
DL: Absolutely. Having a voice is part of who God created us to be. He is the Word, and we’re made in his image, so we are meant to speak.
I think finding a voice is central, but it takes a long time. Part of what I’m watching is the person God created begin to open up like a flower, even though their words are about terrible things. But it’s their truth that they get to speak for the first time in a safe place.
RC: How do the dynamics of power being exploited in a church context develop in your experience?
DL: It starts internally in the abuser – at bottom it has to do with deception.
We have often placed tremendous burdens on pastors. We have expected them to be perfect, which they’re not. When you struggle as a pastor, you tend not to talk about it, you try to hide it, even from yourself. When you’re wounded, you look for something to heal that wound. So you look for ways to feed, to feel bigger, which usually are illicit. We don’t want others to see our vulnerability.
We think of leaders as shepherds, and they are not, they are sheep. Their role is that of under-Shepherd, not Shepherd. There is only one shepherd, Jesus Christ. We have elevated those positions, and in many ways isolated those who lead, which again is not excusing anything that’s been done.
RC: What would good use of power look like?
DL: Like Jesus Christ!
Of course, on one level that says nothing…. But again, like voice, we were given power. God told Adam and Eve what to do, and they did it. We’re meant to have power, but our power is always to be governed by God. And as Jesus said, all power is given to Him. Any power that you or I have, is a piece of the power that is His, that He has given us to use, to use only with His likeness. Otherwise, it’s not His power anymore.
RC: We seem to be seeing more and more abuse stories coming out. Is there something particularly about Christian communities do you think, that makes us particularly vulnerable to this?
DL: I think any organisational body that has power up and less power down is vulnerable. We protect our systems more than our sheep. I think it’s always been there, but we didn’t see it, or name it.
Now we have language for things that we did not have 50 years ago. Also, I think as people name the truth, it brings awareness and courage to others to do the same.
RC: Why do you think some Christians have been resistant to movements to highlight abuse, like #MeToo?
DL: I think part of that is probably ignorance. Some Christians often have wrong ideas about speaking the truth – in the sense that if it’s something bad, you don’t say it because it’s not nice. Which is not like our Lord, who was very clear when He labelled bad things.
I think that some can see movements like #MeToo as like a magnet, drawing people in, which they don’t trust. They don’t understand how much courage is required to speak up. From my perspective, it’s very sad that #MeTo had to happen because if the church had been who she is called to be those behaviours would have been exposed all along. We’re called to turn on the light so that healing can occur, not just in the sheep that have been wounded, but in the shepherds too.
RC: How do you think churches can help victims of abuse feel more comfortable with us?
DL: I have had many pastors come back to me and say that they stood up and acknowledged that people can be suffering on the inside, and nobody knows.
This could be a history of sexual abuse, it could be a rape that happened a long time ago, or it could be domestic abuse in the home. Then they ask me what to do, because talking about this is bringing people in to talk with them. Just naming it says I know suffering and abuse exists. Says I’m willing to talk about it. And I’ll be safe, even though those words aren’t explicitly stated.
RC: What’s the best thing that someone can do if a friend comes to them and begins to talk about some of these things?
DL: Number one, say you believe them. And two, say I want you to be safe, and I’d like to try and figure out how to help that happen.
Most people are scared, they don’t want anybody else to know. Eventually, you need to get them to somebody who’s trained. One of the loveliest things you can do for them is to go with them to do that. Help them have the courage to go there, and sit in the waiting room while they talk. Then go with them afterwards and have tea or coffee, just be there, and say how much you admire their courage.
RC: You’ve spoken previously comparing church leaders to wolves and sheep – how does the church context invite narcissism in its leaders?
DL: Because we love awesome leaders! We want them to be the smartest, the best, the most well-known.
But the most gifted leader in the world is still just a human being who is imperfect, and is themselves just a sheep. We easily lose sight of that because we’re meant for glory – we want the one who sits on the throne, who is the only one who can save us. But we settle instead for human leaders, which of course feeds the person who’s doing all of these things.
RC: Given these temptations, how important do you think self-awareness is for church leaders?
DL: About 200%. But part of that is understanding that no one can be that self-aware, so we all need other voices in our lives, people who can hold us accountable, who can tell you what they see.
Sadly, self-examination doesn’t seem to be taught or nurtured in those becoming pastors. Yet self-examination is absolutely critical in everyone, especially somebody who has power. And you can’t do it by yourself – if you’re human, you’re an expert at deceit.
RC: What might church leaders look out for in themselves and others, to try and avoid some of that?
DL: I think it’s important to know what hurts you and to understand why. A lot of people in leadership don’t think about that.
It’s a vulnerable thing to consider, and to pay attention to how you respond to being hurt. You need to have a place to take your own wound or sorrow or hurt or whatever.
RC: How do you keep your faith when you’ve seen and heard so much about trauma, including some of it done by people who would describe themselves as Christians?
DL: There have been a couple of bumps in the road! Twice in my 50 years of work, I told God I was quitting. Obviously, that didn’t work! But each of those times He has taught me something very significant.
What I have ultimately come to realise was that in leaving the work, I would really be leaving Him – He has, for whatever reason, invited me into the fellowship of His sufferings. So, any sufferings that I sit with, that’s part of His suffering. That’s where He is. I don’t think there’ll be a third time.
I follow Christ, whatever happens in His body, the church. My father had to retire from the Air Force because of undiagnosed neurological issues. When I came home from college for a break at 19 years old, I saw him struggling to stand up by himself from his chair. He’s six foot, four and a half, a brilliant man. But he just couldn’t get up. What went through my head that day was that a body that doesn’t follow the head is a sick body. And as I began in my career to encounter challenging church situations, that thought came back to me. If I follow Christ, I long for His body to follow Him too, but whether they do or not, I will.
There are sick bodies, church-wise, but you don’t follow the sickness, you follow the head. When the body doesn’t follow the head, the body is sick. That’s not okay. You don’t cover up symptoms, you go see the doctor. If you don’t, if you do that, the sickness will get worse, or eventually become incurable.
RC: You’ve been at the same church for 42 years! What is it that is it that keeps you there?
DL: When I first graduated from college, I went to Europe for a while, and spent several months at L’Abri, the community founded by Francis and Edith Schaeffer. I then picked my church because I found out that they had welcomed Francis Schaeffer to speak several times. And I thought, if they liked Him, I liked them!
It’s not even the same denomination that it used to be when I joined, and it’s a small church. There are people there whose children grew up with my children. There’s nothing flashy, but it was relational and solid. I’m a one-on-one person, obviously, that’s what I do for a living, and I so value those relationships, whether they’re me as the therapist and the client, or whether they’re friendships.
