"Friendly Fire"

Photo by Igovar Igovar

Dredging Up the Past

Have you ever dealt with something and just wanted to forget it even happened?

During one of my sessions with my therapist, which has been helping me deal with my panic attacks associated with me being assaulted, she threw out this statement:  "I think you're also dealing with PTSD associated with how The Salvation Army treated you, too."

Red warning lights went up. My brain immediately said, "Don't go there!"

And I knew it was true.

I experienced "Friendly Fire" from the only Army that boasts to have no weapons.

The Warnings

Before I became an officer (a pastor) in The Salvation Army, I had two people pull me aside and warn me against it. One had been a missionary to Germany, like I had been, and told me that the field in Germany was extremely difficult and was filled with a lot of heartache and loneliness.  The other was my mother, who, herself, was (and is) an officer. She warned me that I didn't realize how hard and difficult it would be for me.

This was right before I entered our seminary, which is called the College for Officer Training.

I wish I had listened to them then.

What was the Abuse?

Lack of Personal Time

It was little things that sometimes developed into bigger things. As an officer, my time was not my own. When I lived in Germany, it could often be counted on that I had at least one day off per week. Usually this was Monday. When I came back to the United States, this was harder to figure out. I would try to take Saturdays off, but invariably Salvation Army events would be planned for that Saturday where I was required to attend.

With no days off, I got burned out quickly. My work day was rarely 40 hours per week. It often was more like 60 hours, if not more.

No Legal Standing of Employment

As an officer, I was compensated with an allowance, but I had to sign a legal document stating that there was no employment relationship between The Salvation Army and me. Rather it was a "spiritual" relationship. Looking back on this, I realize now how terrible of a situation this was and the fallout from my termination as an officer left me with no legal recourse, even if I wanted to pursue one (which I didn't).

When I was terminated, my pension, home (which was a parsonage), transportation, etc., were all taken away.

One might say that I voluntarily signed up for this. Yes, this is true, but it still led to a very abusive relationship with The Salvation Army.

No Freedom of Thought

My divisional commander (which is akin to a bishop) would monitor my social media posts. There was one point where I voluntarily agreed not to post anything that would seem to negatively speak out against The Salvation Army. I abandoned the group I had formed for Progressive Salvationists and curtailed my social media to just photos of my family and talking about my jogging. My divisional commander even monitored what articles I read and what I "liked." In my termination papers, he stated that he didn't think I had really changed because of what I was liking on social media. (They wanted to see whether or not I was still progressive.)

My personnel secretary (akin to an HR director) called me a heretic for stating that the Bible is rarely clear on matters of sexuality.

No One Holds Them Accountable

When I was going through a divorce, which triggered my termination as an officer, my defense had to be submitted to a nebulous Officer Review Board, which I was not allowed to meet in person because they were made up of my peers. Any appeal I made had to be submitted to our International Headquarters in London, which is not an easy task to accomplish.

I gave up.

It's Not All Black and White

To characterize The Salvation Army as totally evil would be a misrepresentation of the facts. They are not completely evil. They do a lot of good work, which I was a part of and which I will always cherish as some of the best things I ever did. They formed the spiritual foundation of my life and gave me a love of music that I hold dear to this day.

But . . .

When I became different to them, when I was outed as a bisexual person, I was tossed to the side.

As a soldier (layperson) of The Salvation Army, I found no welcome in my local congregation. I had to fight to become a member.

At that point, I knew that if I had to fight to become a member, then I really don't belong any more.

Little Things Trigger Me

I just realized at how upset I get when I am confronted with anything Salvation Army related in my day-t0-day life. I saw a notice that the Chicago Staff Band would be doing a concert near me. There are many progressive Salvationists in that band, even an openly gay member, but I don't know if I could feel at ease at all watching them perform.

A report about The Salvation Army in Lexington, Kentucky, whose congregation I attended as a college student, recently gave a horrible anti-LGBTQ sermon. I saw that and was furious.

I will drive by a thrift store and see that red shield, and I'm reminded again of what was done to me.

What happens now?

I will continue my therapy. I will seek help through this as I work through the trauma I underwent. I doubt The Salvation Army will ever apologize to me. As a top-down hierarchy, it is very difficult to enact any change, unless it comes from the top. The current general recently said some unsavory things towards the LGBTQ+ community. Several letters of complaint were sent to him, as well as a petition, but there has been no response from the International Headquarters.

I'd love to forget everything that happened to me. That would be such a gift.

Forgiving is even a harder thing to do, especially when the other side believes they did no wrong.

I will keep on living, taking one breath at a time.

Maybe that's all I can do.