I’m slow to see things sometimes. I got a question in the comments, a great question, that inspired me to write the post for today. Thanks Wendi!

The question is:

What would you say to someone who’s has trauma from both religion and atheism? Anyone else had this experience?

Regardless of where trauma comes from, it’s important to recognize first of all that it shapes to some extent not only our views on the world, but also our behaviors towards the world, people around us, situations, and experiences. Easiest example that I can come up with is how kids who grow up in a home where this is alcoholism learn very predictable ways of communicating and behaving that work to protect themselves; the behaviors may be unproductive, or perhaps even harmful, but they work to protect from actual, and perceived trauma that may yet occur. In the 90’s, the buzz word for this behavior experience was co-dependency.

I’ve experienced trauma from both atheism and religion–perhaps not to the extent that some who I’ve grown to know have–but trauma none the less. One example of atheistic trauma that I experienced was in university, when a professor who was teaching a class I was in decided to take aim directly at me for what I believed, what I understood, and for asking questions that may have moved towards a more theistic understanding. At one point in a lecture, he came down to me put his face about 4″ from mine, and forcibly yelled at me in the same way a child would justify something to another child in a playground. Recognizing what he’d done, he quickly did the same to a student who was sitting next to me.

I also get a really sick feeling when I watch debates between theists and atheists, or more specifically when I come across statements/videos arguing for either side. It just doesn’t jive for me anymore: I’m not about proving my point to anyone, trying to convince anyone of my beliefs, or bringing anyone forcibly to them.

The first step in addressing my own trauma experience was to acknowledge I didn’t need to argue about my faith anymore, or try to justify my beliefs to anyone. The only duty I had to carry out was to love as I would be loved–to see the face of Christ in every person I met, regardless of how they may see me. That’s no easy feat as you can imagine. But taking the need to play the game of proof or no proof, right or wrong, that means I stopped feeding the need for the trauma to be fed. It meant recognizing that I needed to adjust a lot of behaviors around the model of being right or wrong, the need to find a perpetrator and a victim, the duality that our human world needs to exist.

That doesn’t mean I don’t think people, including myself, can’t ever be in the wrong. It just changes how I choose to navigate the world, what I choose to avoid as being necessary to my spiritual well being, what I choose to accept as ways of expressing my faith in a spiritual context.

Which leads me to how I address trauma.

From a support perspective (I’m a support worker for a non-profit agency by day), it means recognizing that in order to develop a healthy relationship with a person, you need to acknowledge where they’re coming from, what they’re saying to you with word, what they’re saying to you both verbally and with actions. You modify your behavior to recognize a trauma that exists in a person’s life, to honour their lived experience. That allows trust to begin between two people. Once you establish trust, you can begin to help people to see where what they are doing may be trauma based. You help them by using gentleness in every aspect of your time with them: words, how you touch (a high five, a hand on the shoulder for support, a hug), how you are present (do I talk when it’s needed or do I allow myself to be present in silence, maybe in a different room while they do something else). As the relationship grows, you help to stretch a person to move beyond the bubble they’ve created with their experiences, including trauma. It might be as simple as helping someone to take out the garbage, go grocery shopping, or more serious like working toward writing a resume, finding a job, going on a date, finding somewhere to live, looking for a therapist, dealing with addiction, navigating a relationship, navigating the death of a loved one or friend.

In the context of the worshiping community I’m a part of, we first clearly acknowledge that in the past, people may have experienced trauma in a religious context but may still feel a draw towards the experience of spirituality through liturgy. It’s a challenging thing to face that, and to approach wanting to attend a Mass, when every element of that Mass may trigger painful memories, anxiety, fear. Keeping that in mind, no one is ever required to sit through. If someone feels triggered, there is a safe space outside the worship area that they can move to. There are individuals who are trained in trauma informed support available to help through what someone is experiencing. There’s opportunity to debrief after the liturgy, to talk about experiences that may have come up, to share with one another, to share with others trauma we may have in common and ways we’ve worked through it to a more healthier experience. We livestream for people who want to feel safe in their own space, who can just turn it off when they want, or who want to listen in.

Specifically, our worship community is made up of mostly 2SLGBTQIAP+ people who are working through that trauma experience. We see worship as an act of spiritual experience–yes, religion has shaped it. But we reclaim it, change it as we need to to make it more in line with who we are, recognizing that there are elements of the liturgy that are crucial and unchanging.

Regardless of which direction a person’s heart takes them, be it towards atheism or theism in one form or another, the important thing is to be aware of who we are, where our instincts lead us, how we shape our understanding of the world, and to open our hearts towards the experience of love.

In dealing with my own personal trauma experiences, I try to recognize why a behavior is occurring, if it’s trauma based, and if it’s trauma based, what might the initial cause be. The reflective act of contemplation has helped a lot to calm my mind, as well as having a supportive partner, and a supportive doctor! Medication helps–don’t deny yourself that tool if you need it.

Once I recognize that certain experiences, like crowds for example, may trigger a trauma based reaction, I push myself gently into situations that are going to force that trauma response to occur…maybe. When I saw that crowds were a trigger for me, I started going to Costco to shop for groceries with my husband. I don’t know if it’s like it where you live? Costco is a zoo where I live. Being there among the crowds, focusing in shopping rather than focusing on the crowd, I started to develop a thicker skin to the trauma response. Which doesn’t mean I don’t get exhausted and peopled out! But the time it takes for my social battery to drain has increased a lot.

When I recognized that my trauma around religion was based primarily in confrontation, when the confrontations came up where people challenged me on my beliefs, I simply changed my approach: “I’m really sorry, but I don’t want to participate in a debate about this. I don’t try to enforce my beliefs on anyone. I allow people to make up their own minds and make their own choices.”

I’ve as of yet not met an angry atheist. I hope when I do, I’m able to move past my trauma responses and validate that in my world view at least, Christ dwells with them as much as they dwell with me, meaning I am in a position where I need to love. Sin, in my word view at least, is anything that gets in the way of experiencing and sharing Love.

I hope this helps! And, as always, your mileage may vary.