Was I in a Cult?
Fear and Coercion in the American Evangelical Church
Over the last few weeks I have had an overwhelming number of people reach out and connect with me after my first and second blogs posts. I keep hearing from people who say things like, “I loved your most recent post… It was the first time I’ve felt like maybe others feel the same way I do.” I have also felt isolated and connecting with others on this journey is why I started writing.
Part of the reason I have felt isolated and afraid to ask questions is because of the way many evangelicals, including myself in the past, talked to or about those who are deconstructing. I have had many of these leveled at me in the last few weeks, and it is incredibly dismissive. People have said that I:
Just want to sin
Have read too many authors who say unorthodox things
Want to assimilate with the culture rather than follow the Bible
Was never a Christian to begin with
Am just going with the fad
Never really knew Jesus
Had a faith in something that wasn’t actually God
After a lifetime devoted to the Christian faith and practice, I (we) deserve more.
But sadly the responses can get far more dehumanizing. In The Deconstruction of Christianity, Alisa Childers and Tim Barnett say, “Deconstruction is as old as humanity itself, it began with Satan—the father of faith deconstruction—and continues today.” (Pg 47). When supposed Christian “experts” are selling books telling you that asking questions is akin to joining the Devil it can be difficult to actually ask those questions openly. Demonization engenders fear and coercion, which are the currency of cults.
Cults specialize in destabilizing their adherents. They produce fear and confusion in their members. They make them fearful of outsiders, of dissenting information, of any members who leave the fold, and even eventually leave people unable to trust themselves. All of this makes them easier to control.
I have seen and encountered each of these tactics within the evangelical church. I have heard many Christians over the years tell me that I can’t trust my own thinking or intuition, so instead I must rely on God or the Bible. I have watched so many conservative Christians attack other Christians simply because they read the Bible and see social issues differently.
I have seen how the evangelical community has treated people like Rachel Held Evans, Curtis Chang, Beth Moore, Jemar Tisby, Jen Hatmaker, David French, Kristin Kobes Du Mez, Russell Moore, Beth Allison Barr and so many others when they questioned the status quo. When Rob Bell publicly asked questions about Hell, John Piper infamously tweeted out to his 1 million followers, “Farewell, Rob Bell.” Just like that, Rob Bell was out. The message: Ask the wrong questions and you’re out.
That’s been my experience too. As long as I stayed within the lines of the evangelical box, I was a trusted source. The moment I considered ideas outside of that box, I was suspect and my thoughts were no longer trustworthy, despite the seminary training and many years in service.
So occasionally over the last couple of years I have found myself asking,
“Was I in a cult?”
After seeing a Christian I know and love stoke fear right before Christmas by posting about the horrible fate awaiting those who don’t accept Christ, I wondered,
“Was I in a cult?”
After driving by a church sign that said, “Sin is a short word with a long sentence,” I wondered,
“Was I in a cult?”
After asking questions for the last number of years and seeing how deeply uncomfortable and fearful basic questions made so many Christians, I wondered,
“Was I in a cult?”
A lot of the anger we are seeing in the Exvangelical movement right now is because of how much effort it took to finally ask questions out loud and how much pushback people got when they did. I kept quiet for years because I knew certain questions were dangerous, causing frustration and disillusionment to grow in me. Certain questions got you angry emails. Certain questions made people leave your church. Certain questions got you branded a heretic. And then you’d be out. Farewell, Adam Rowe…
But the questions wouldn’t leave me alone. And no, it wasn’t because I wanted to sin. Or I listened to some dangerous information that somehow corrupted me. Or I just wanted to assimilate with our culture. Or I was never a Christian to begin with. I had devoted my entire life to this faith.
And maybe you did too?
I’m curious if you have had those same questions asked of you on our journey of faith deconstruction? I would like to share what it feels like when you are deconstructing and what it is that we need from people as we go through this process.
What has faith deconstruction been like for you?
What is it that you feel like you need from others as you process your questions and beliefs?
I have felt a lot of fear in this process over the last number of years. But talking about it openly has actually brought incredible peace and a new energy for me.
Thank you for your support and for taking this journey with me.
Peace,
Adam



Loving these posts and nodding along as a read them. It all feels so familiar- my scary, not-to-be-ignored questions that were oh-so-forbidden by the church that raised me began so long ago - at Wheaton College no less (as we’ve talked about). There is deep comfort in knowing I’m not alone, cousin, and I love reading your words. Thank you.
Great questions posed in this blog, Adam. I love how you shed light on the reality of your experience.
I have found that stepping outside of the “traditional church box” to free me up to explore a life with God, and what it might be like to more faithfully be salt and light. It took some time to decondition my thinking around the weekly rhythm of “going to church,” (which I still miss), but the trade off of not getting tangled up into my feelings (or lack thereof) of belongingness and affirmation on the whims of church people has made the shift worth it. Give me friends, dinners, prayer, heart sharing, and time spent with theologians (their books) and the Bible. I would love to serve the church in a more explicitly communal way, be it church or other endeavor, but I believe taking a step away has helped me to purge any other urges to satiate my need for identity and belongingness in anything other that the love of God (and not in a particular church or ministry). For me, I don’t see this as deconstruction per se, but I guess even this is a term we are still defining along the way. ❤️