If you're trying to make sense of what you experienced—or wondering whether what you're living in right now is something more than a difficult season—these questions are a place to start.

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They aren't meant to deliver a verdict. They're not a checklist. They're simply questions that hold an invitation to look honestly at what you've experienced and discern what might be underneath it with fresh eyes.

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Sometimes the first step is simply being willing to ask.

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• Does the leader's ministry reflect the humility and gentleness of Jesus?

Not: Are they telling you they're humble? But do you see true evidence of a humble and gentle spirit? True humility does not power up, or blame, fawn over, or dismiss others, but honestly does the work put before them without fanfare or looking for laughter, undue deference, or applause.

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• Do they show deference to some types of people over others?

If you're someone with power or influence, they may show a deference to you or paint themselves as a victim when they speak with you. Listen and look for how they treat the people under them.

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• Do they humbly apologize for sin? Do those they've sinned against bear witness to their true repentance?

Abusive pastors who have been caught first deny wrongdoing, then minimize or blame, and if necessary, will use their platform to offer a faux apology, using phrases like, "I made mistakes. I'm flawed. I hurt people." These are not evidence of repentance, but of working to control a narrative. Wade Mullen, Ph.D. says,

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"When abusers can't refute a story, they try their best to dilute it. Diverting attention away from the crime and toward the perceived positive outcomes like lessons learned and the good they have done since, causes followers to view negative events in a positive light."

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True repentance is seen in sincere apologies offered privately, owning the full extent of sin against another—and in a long track of changed behavior. Standing on a stage and saying "I made mistakes" when a pastor crossed a line sexually with a parishioner or bullied his assistant is not a sign of repentance; it is self-protective and an attempt to offer what is needed to quell an outcry.

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• Do they place undue value on unity, honor, or very specific passages of scripture outside of the larger context of the Word of God?

Jesus prayed that we would be one as He and the Father are one, but true unity also allows for beautiful variation and freedom within the body of Christ. Do they call for others to honor them, or do they walk with humility? Do they return repeatedly to a narrow set of scriptures — Matthew 18 on confronting others, Romans 13 on submission to authority, Hebrews 13:17 on obeying leaders, or 1 Timothy 5:19 on not receiving accusations against an elder — while remaining silent on the passages that call leaders to account?

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• Is the spiritual leader honest?

Or do they spin words to sound like truth while distracting you from what is actual? A deceptive person can use false humility, humble brags, partial confessions, or even weep bitterly when it's in their interest to do so—when receiving praise and promotion or escaping accountability.

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• Do you experience different versions of this leader depending on who else is in the room?

Charming with some, cutting with others. Warm one moment, dismissive or shaming the next. These patterns rarely announce themselves clearly—they tend to feel like your own confusion. Gaslighting runs alongside this: you find yourself uncertain whether what you experienced actually happened, whether you misread the situation, or whether you're being too sensitive. When your own memory and perception begin to feel unreliable, that matters. Abusive leaders rely on this confusion.

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• Do they use excessive or exclusive language? How often do they build up other churches in the area?

Abusive leaders tend to position their ministry as the truest, most faithful, most spiritually serious expression of Christianity around. Other churches are fine, perhaps—but there's an edge of dismissal. Insider language develops over time: phrases, categories, and ways of framing things that mark who really belongs. Members begin to absorb the sense that what happens here is uniquely important, that voices from outside are less reliable, that real spiritual formation happens under this leadership. That narrowing is not accidental.

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• Do you notice your trusted circle narrowing—becoming increasingly limited to those within this community?

One of the quieter patterns is the gradual shrinking of a person's world. It can feel like belonging, like finally being with people who really understand. But over time, outside voices become suspect. Friends who raise questions get framed as spiritually immature or unsafe. Family relationships become strained. By the time someone realizes how small their world has become, they've often lost much of the network they would need to leave.

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• Do you find yourself shielding this leader—or explaining away their behavior—to people close to you who express concern?

Grooming is not only something that happens between a leader and one individual. It extends in all directions. Family members and close friends of someone being harmed are often groomed alongside them—positioned to see the leader as safe and trustworthy, and to hear concern or resistance as divisive. If those closest can't be groomed, they'll be discounted. The wider community gets prepared too: shaped to discount questions, to see dissent as disloyalty, to rally around the leader before the harm is ever named. Or to blame the abused. By the time something surfaces publicly, the ground has often been carefully prepared to protect the abuser and discredit the abused. The community's response to accusation is itself a kind of diagnostic.

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• Do they create pressure—spoken or implied—around financial giving?

Abusive leaders can tie generosity to spiritual standing, ministry access, or favor. Manipulation is not always loud. Sometimes it lives in the look a leader gives when a pledge card comes back low, or in the stories told about the sacrificial giving of others. Giving should be a free act of worship; when it becomes a condition of belonging, that is worth naming.

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• Do they attempt to appropriate commitments which are beyond the scope of relationship?

Telling a church team, "We want to die doing this ministry together" can be a way of trying to convince them they should be all-in before they have had space to consider whether they want that level of commitment. While we may be brothers and sisters in Christ, this leap to a lifelong commitment outside of the scope of relationship is a tell. Lifelong relationships outside of marriage or our families of origin are grown and developed over a lifetime.

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• Do they create a culture of fear, shame, or blame—either within the church at large or among key leaders and volunteers?

Not all fear presents itself clearly. Sometimes it lives in the slight hesitation before speaking up in a meeting, the way people glance at each other before answering a question, the unspoken understanding of which topics are safe and which ones cost something. In many of these communities, shame stands in stark contrast to the grace being preached from the platform — people hear about a God who removes shame while living inside a culture that wields it. Shame-based cultures rarely name themselves. They operate through tone, through what gets rewarded and what gets quietly punished, through who gets restored after a failure and who gets made an example of. And blame rarely looks like blame. Abusive leaders are quick to redirect fault onto others—or to perform a version of accountability that still lands the weight on someone else: I should have seen that she wasn't ready for that role. It sounds like self-reflection. It isn't. If people around a leader consistently minimize their own concerns, second-guess their own perceptions, or apologize before they've even finished a sentence—that is a culture telling on itself.

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• Do they use off-handed comments to communicate what is and isn't acceptable?

A pastor who says, "Only one person has ever asked to see our financial statements (and he was angry with a staff member and wanted to bring them down)" may be sending the message that while the statement may be available, asking about finances is off-limits. Similarly, a pastor who says to an employee, "You aren't going to have any more kids, are you?" is inappropriately using their voice to influence a personal decision. Or take for example, a pastor who uses their platform to refer to people who complain about his decisions or disagree with him, saying "It will all come out in the book one day." That pastor is communicating clearly to the congregation that they're at risk of being called out if they question his leadership. These are manipulative tactics which are a misuse of pastoral authority and position.

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• When harm comes to light, is the response oriented toward the person who was hurt—or toward protecting the institution and its leader?

Watch how a community responds when something goes wrong. Abusive systems tend to weaponize forgiveness—not as a gift to the wounded, but as a demand for silence. Scripture gets quoted selectively: reconciliation is invoked while justice is deferred. Victims are pressured to "forgive and forget" before they've been fully heard, believed, or supported. If naming harm costs a person their standing, but protecting the leader costs nothing—that community is telling on itself. When the harm involves sexual misconduct, watch especially for how it is named. The word "affair" implies mutual consent and equal power — a relationship between peers. Between a spiritual leader and someone they shepherd, that is never the case. It is not an affair. It is clergy sexual abuse. The name matters. Right-naming is where the road to healing begins. → Learn more about adult clergy sexual abuse

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• Do they focus and highlight one spiritual gift above others?

Abusive systems tend to elevate the gifts that confer visibility and authority—leadership, evangelism, prophecy, speaking in tongues — and treat them as marks of spiritual seriousness or favor. The gifts that go unrecognized are just as revealing. Service rarely gets the platform. Quietly showing up, caring for people without an audience, doing the work that no one applauds—these don't fit the culture because they don't consolidate power. Jesus took up a towel. Abusive leaders tend to hand them to someone else.