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A visitor hesitates near the door of your church building one Sunday. They make their way through the door but then pause. They look distracted, almost in a world of their own. You move toward them, but they seem unaware of your presence. You get a sense of agitation, as if they are on high alert, and you notice perspiration on their forehead. When you speak a word of greeting, they seem neither to see you nor hear you. Instead, they move away toward a notice board at the side of your church foyer, avoiding eye contact.
All sorts of things might explain what is happening. But of the various options, would it cross your mind that this person might be struggling with the effects of trauma? Trauma takes many forms, and its effects vary widely. People experience trauma in the armed forces or as paramedics. Trauma can result from an assault or an accident. Others experience trauma in the context of childhood loss or abuse.
Not many of our churches will have “trauma experts”, but all of us can acquire a basic awareness. And if we are going to respond well to people who have faced severe suffering, this awareness is something we badly need. When people worry whether others are going to understand the impact of trauma in their life, often all they are really asking is “Will you see me? Are you aware of the kinds of struggles trauma can cause, or am I at risk of being ignored and misunderstood?”
In regard to trauma, it’s important that churches shouldn’t overreach by imagining themselves capable of doing everything that is needed and dismissing expert help. It is equally important that churches don’t underreach by finding trauma so complex and confusing that they do nothing to help.
Here, briefly, are a few of the ways our churches can misstep (and how we can rectify them).
If the members of a church welcome team are unaware of the kind of anxiety and hypervigilance trauma can cause, they may well misinterpret people’s behaviour. When someone arrives late at church to avoid the crowd that they find so overwhelming or steps out of church because their anxiety is peaking close to panic, welcomers may simply view them as awkward and problematic. When someone asks for a seat right at the back or enquires about a quiet room to sit in, the request may just be considered odd and difficult. If we consider the possibility of trauma, we are more likely to be generously gracious.
If our church never uses refers to trauma, or worse, we speak of trauma in a trivial or dismissive way, we communicate that our church is either not interested in or not responsive to people who have experienced trauma. The message is Don’t come, or If you do come, don’t talk about the trauma you have faced.
When our churches are only ever seamlessly excellent at the front and when we never interview or have testimonies from those who are struggling, we give the impression that “being sorted” is a necessary feature of Christian discipleship. That’s hard for people when trauma from their past persistently invades, disturbs and disrupts them in the present.
If, when we come to Bible passages that describe physical brutality or sexual assault, we read them without acknowledging the content or alerting people in advance, we make church unsafe. People traumatised by these kinds of assault are often careful to avoid such reminders because they evoke the experience they suffered. When a church unexpectedly confronts someone with such experiences, it makes church feel dangerous.
People who have experienced trauma often carry a sense of shame. They may blame themselves for what happened, even though objectively they did nothing wrong. They may tell themselves they really should have “got over it by now”. Often someone may feel as if they are somehow set apart, different – as if trauma has left its mark upon them. If we don’t appreciate the alienation people may feel, we probably won’t do enough to welcome and include them.
It’s hard to overemphasise how hurtful it can be when someone responds to our suffering with trite platitudes. Romans 8:28 does speak truly when it tells us that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him”, but applying that truth like a band-aid over a gaping wound is neither loving nor kind. According to Proverbs, ‘the words of the reckless pierce like swords, but the tongue of the wise brings healing” (Proverbs 12:18). Wisdom recognises that, even with biblical truth, timing matters. All too often, platitudes are spoken for the benefit of the speaker rather than the hearer.
When someone talks about hard things in their past, it is deeply unloving if we fail to follow up. Shame is at work here, too, and sharing hard things can leave a person vulnerable, wondering if they have made themselves unacceptable in some way. A quick text or phone call to check someone is okay helps reassure a person that what has been said has not disrupted your relationship. In fact, when you choose the right words you can even convey a sense that your relationship is deeper now because of what was shared.
At the heart of the gospel is our Saviour suffering a traumatic death in our place: a Saviour who covers our shame, welcomes the outcast, and unites us regardless of all our differences. The gospel may not make us instant experts on trauma, but it gives us plenty of reasons to move toward those who have suffered. And when we gather as a church, we aren’t two groups: one respectable, the other not; one with reason for shame, the other not. There is just one group, and it is labelled Needy Saved Sinners – and that applies to all of us. The more our churches grasp the gospel, the more we will see all the reasons why we have to be one of the very best and most welcoming of communities for those who have experienced trauma.
If we ignore trauma in our churches, we will misstep. And while engaging with trauma doesn’t mean becoming experts, it does mean caring enough both to see and to love those who have faced some of the hardest suffering.
Written by Steve Midgley, author of Understanding Trauma: A Biblical Introduction for Church Care. Steve trained as a psychiatrist before being ordained, served as Vicar of Christ Church Cambridge for 18 years and is now Executive Director of Biblical Counselling UK
Steve Midgley is executive director of Biblical Counselling UK and a pastor at Christ Church Cambridge. Steve is a conference speaker, a board member for the Christian Counseling & Educational Foundation, and a council member of the Biblical Counseling Coalition. He and his wife, Beth, have three adult children.
