May the peace of the Creator embrace you. I write this not as a distant observer, but as someone who has walked a long road of faith, theology, and peace work. Along the way, I have met people who carry deep wounds — not from strangers, but from religious leaders, communities, and doctrines that were supposed to bring life. Some of these wounds were inflicted in the name of “saving souls.” I have seen how the threat of hell is often used as a weapon. I know what it feels like to sit under teaching that speaks more about eternal punishment than about the Creator’s compassion. And I have seen the fear, shame, and silence this creates. For years, many of us deny this harm. We convince ourselves that suffering is holy, that questioning is rebellion, or that leaving is betrayal. I once carried these same burdens. But over time, I have learned to see that the divine is not the voice of fear. The divine is peace.
My Struggle with Hell and Fear
Research confirms what I have witnessed and felt: when hell is emphasized as eternal torment, people report lower well-being and more negative emotions (Shariff & Aknin, 2014). Fear of hell can also be used to justify harsh discipline and authoritarian control (Beller, Kröger, & Kliem, 2021).
For me, the hardest part was realizing that what was framed as “God’s discipline” was actually abuse. Scholars now call this Religious/Spiritual (R/S) abuse — the misuse of spiritual authority to dominate or harm (Ellis, 2024; Perry, 2024). Survivors describe the same things I have heard in pastoral conversations: threats of divine punishment, manipulation of scripture, shaming of doubts.
It is painful to admit: sometimes the very structures that should guide us to peace instead break our spirits.
Learning to Name the Abuse
I resisted naming it as abuse for a long time. Maybe you are resisting too. That is not weakness — it is survival. Fear of eternal punishment, deep shame, and the pressure of community loyalty all conspire to keep us silent (Perry, 2024).
But my peace journey taught me this: truth-telling is the first act of healing. To whisper, even in the privacy of your own heart, “This is not love; this is abuse” is already a step toward freedom.
Walking the Path of Healing
Healing is not quick, and it is not linear. But I have seen survivors rise into new life. Here are practices I share, not as formulas, but as invitations from my own journey:
1. Name the truth. The Creator’s love does not demand your silence. Abuse is abuse, even if it is wrapped in religious words.
2. Find safe companions. Healing grows in trusted circles. Seek friends, mentors, or communities that honor your questions and your pain.
3. Seek trauma-informed help. Therapists who understand religious trauma can help you disentangle fear from faith (Ellis, 2024).
4. Reimagine the divine. I had to let go of the image of a punitive deity. In my peace theology, I discovered the Creator as the One who restores, who embraces, who never manipulates.
5. Honor your pace. Healing is a pilgrimage. There will be valleys and peaks. Every small step is sacred.
A Word of Hope
Friend, if you are reading this with a trembling heart, hear me: you are not alone. The Creator is not the abuser. The Creator is not the terror in your nights.
The Creator is peace.
The Creator is love.
The Creator is freedom.
Your healing is not rebellion against God — it is a return to the divine embrace.
A Pastoral Blessing
May the Creator who is peace wrap you in tender courage.
May every chain of fear fall away from your heart.
May you find companions who walk gently with you on the road to healing.
May your soul rediscover the joy of being unconditionally loved.
And may you come to know — in the depths of your being — that you are never abandoned, never condemned, never beyond the embrace of the divine.
Walk in peace. Heal in freedom. Live in love.
⸻
References
Beller, J., Kröger, C., & Kliem, S. (2021). Slapping them into heaven? Individual and social religiosity, religious fundamentalism, and belief in heaven and hell as predictors of support for corporal punishment. Journal of Interpersonal Violence, 36(15–16), NP8482–NP8497.
Ellis, H. M. (2024). Holy hell: Religious/spiritual abuse and attachment to God (Doctoral dissertation, University of North Texas). University of North Texas Digital Library.
Perry, S. (2024). Religious/spiritual abuse, meaning-making, and posttraumatic growth. Religions, 15(7), 824.
Shariff, A. F., & Aknin, L. B. (2014). The emotional toll of hell: Cross-national and experimental evidence for the negative well-being effects of hell beliefs. PLoS ONE, 9(1), e85251.
