Nurturing Trauma Sensitive Congregations

Editor’s Note: The following appears in the November/December issue of Nurturing Faith Journal (NFJ). In 2025, NFJ will become Good Faith Magazine and will be a free resource for all Good Faith Advocates.

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 “When I crawled into bed that night as the storm was coming through, I made sure to have my shoes on my feet and my purse with my wallet around my arm. I wanted them to be able to identify my body if they had to.”

A focus group member said these words as I researched collective trauma and congregations with a local South Texas congregation. The town had taken the eye of a devastating Category 4 hurricane just two years prior.

I listened from two perspectives–the social work researcher and the person who had grown up in and deeply loved this church. We learned a lot about collective trauma and how it impacts congregations through that study, but hearing from people I love about surrendering to death has stuck with me to this day.

Six years later, as a congregational social worker at The Center for Church and Community Impact (C3I) at Baylor’s Garland School of Social Work, I have grown accustomed to hearing about how congregations are impacted by and respond to trauma.

It is a dream job.

Every day, I get to work with church leaders, equipping them with trauma-sensitive practices so their congregations can help people heal from their trauma.

When I first began the seminary portion of my dual Master of Social Work/Master of Divinity graduate program, I worked at a local non-profit organization serving victims of domestic violence. My primary work was with children, but I also frequently talked with parents, mostly moms. These conversations took place during the most difficult point in most of their lives, living in a shelter after fleeing unsafe relationships.

I slowly picked up a theme in these conversations that made me uncomfortable. I noticed that women would often go to a faith leader to disclose abuse, and these faith leaders placed them back in situations that could have gotten them killed.

Most of the time, the pastors meant well. They saw a problem and wanted to help. But their “help” often was harmful. It blamed and took control away from the victim. It sided with the abuser.

As much as I loved my seminary, I realized I wasn’t being educated in practices that helped me be sensitive to trauma. Because of this, I focused my social work internship at C3I on training church leaders in trauma-sensitive practices for congregations. In our research, we learned that many church leaders were having frequent conversations about trauma while often lacking the education to support those conversations.

In Spring 2021, we distributed a survey to about 3,500 people—a mixture of seminary graduates and those from an ecumenical database. In the survey, we asked about trauma-related conversations with congregants before and during the COVID-19 pandemic.

We also asked questions about collective trauma, which is defined as trauma that happens to a group of people at the same time. Examples of collective trauma include natural disasters, COVID-19, the death of a key person in the congregation, etc.

Some of our findings were easy to make sense of. For instance, 78% of respondents said they believed their religious education prepared them to talk about death. That percentage was not surprising since supporting people through death and grief and conducting funerals is a “traditional” part of ministry.

But for most types of trauma, only about half of respondents said their education prepared them to have trauma-sensitive conversations. 

The data is clear: Formal education is not preparing church leaders for these conversations. Yet, for every kind of trauma we asked about in the survey, at least one church leader said they talked about it daily.

We also learned that during COVID-19, certain types of trauma were discussed more often than they were before the pandemic.

Naturally, public health crises had the most significant increase in total mentions. There was an increase in conversations on mental health and racial trauma during this time, as well. This made sense, given the stress associated with the pandemic and the national conversation about systemic racism sparked by the murder of George Floyd.

Findings about collective trauma surprised us. Over half (55%) of congregations experienced three or more collective traumas in the past decade. That is a significant number of traumatic incidents.

The top collective traumas were public health crises (presumably COVID), death and grief, mental health, natural disasters, and race. This means that church leaders were experiencing trauma as individuals and simultaneously leading their congregations through that trauma.

I recently heard a pastor label this “leading while bleeding.” Church leaders have to tend to their own physical, mental, and spiritual wounds while also tending to the wounds of their congregants. That alone is a breeding ground for secondary trauma and burnout.

When you add a lack of training, pastors leaving the ministry en masse should be no surprise. At best, this is an unfair and unreasonable situation to put pastors and congregants through. At worst, it harms people because their leaders are in unhealthy emotional spaces.

It is impossible to discuss trauma sensitivity without discussing the foundational Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) study, which looked at ten common childhood traumatic experiences. Those experiences fall into the categories of physical, emotional, sexual abuse​​​ and neglect​​​, and household dysfunction.

The study found that the higher the ACE score, the higher the chance of poor health outcomes later in life. This is due to how trauma impacts the brain, primarily the prefrontal cortex. During childhood, the brain is forming so rapidly that anything affecting the brain during this time will have a more significant impact throughout the individual’s life.

This study teaches us that when we are frustrated or confused by people’s behavior, we should ask, “What happened to this person that is causing this response at this moment?” rather than, “What is wrong with this person?”  

Understanding Trauma

When speaking about trauma, definitions are essential.

The term “trauma” is currently in the zeitgeist, yet it is often misused. I frequently use one of two definitions when working with congregations around trauma sensitivity. One describes trauma as “a deeply distressing or disturbing experience.” I like this one because it is broad in scope and subjective, which is vital to trauma sensitivity. The person having the experience is the one who decides if it is distressing or disturbing. This is essential because we all experience things differently.

The second definition is more specific.

According to The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition (DSM-5), trauma is defined as “any event in which someone has exposure to actual or threatened death, serious injury or sexual violence by ​directly experiencing the event, ​witnessing the event in person as it occurred to others,​ learning that the event occurred to a close family member or friend, or experiencing repeated or extreme exposure to aversive details of the traumatic events (e.g., first responders, social workers, pastors)​.”

Take the example of a car wreck, a common physical and emotional traumatic event. Based on the DSM-5 definition, the experience can be traumatic if you experience the car wreck yourself. But it is also traumatic if you witness the wreck. It is a trauma if your spouse calls to tell you they were in a wreck. It is even traumatic if, daily, you hear news of someone getting into a car wreck–how they were injured, the noises associated with the accident, and everything they experienced throughout the experience.

Each of these are types of trauma, even though they are vastly different experiences and, in some cases, your life was never actually in danger.

Another important phrase is the previously mentioned experience of collective trauma, which is trauma shared by a group. This could involve a congregation, an entire town, or the global population, as in a pandemic.

Unfortunately, collective traumas are so common that we forget they are trauma. Collective trauma shifts the fabric of society. There is life before the event and life after the event. Have you asked yourself, “Was that before COVID or after?” The event is a marker in our brains because life is different after it occurs. We are different.

Gun violence, including mass shootings, is a type of collective trauma. Our society is full of trauma responses from these events, whether we recognize it or not.

Have you ever been in a crowded space, heard a loud noise, and your body automatically reacted? For me, my heart begins to race–I am hyper-vigilant about what to do and where to go. I get sweaty and shaky. I have never experienced an act of gun violence firsthand, but because it is all around us, my body assumes it can happen at any time. The constant stress of this reality takes its toll on all of us.

A related type of trauma for church leaders to be aware of is secondary trauma. Church leaders often experience this type of trauma without recognizing it as such. This frequently happens when an individual regularly hears the details of someone else’s trauma. Often, the individual experiencing this will begin to have trauma reactions as if they had experienced the trauma firsthand.

While I was in grad school, I worked with abuse victims. Every day, I heard stories from domestic violence survivors, complete with all the horrific details. I have never experienced domestic violence firsthand, but after two years of this work, I began to experience trauma responses as if I had.

For an extended period, I had heard about the experience so often and in such incredible detail that my brain began to tell my body that I was experiencing it. I had nightmares. I became easily startled and incredibly sensitive to certain types of movies and music. I began to have problems trusting people in my life, particularly men.

My brain and body were reacting as if I was experiencing the trauma I was constantly hearing about.

When we began training church leaders on trauma sensitivity, I would discuss the different types of trauma and trauma responses so pastors could recognize them in their congregants and know how to support them. Pastors would continually come up to us afterward to tell us that when we went over that content, they realized they were experiencing trauma responses without recognizing them as trauma.

Based on what the data tell us about how often pastors walk congregants through trauma, it is inevitable for them to experience secondary trauma, which is frequently pushed aside. We tend to tell ourselves that it is not “real” trauma since we didn’t experience the event ourselves. However, it is a legitimate form of trauma that needs to be acknowledged and worked through with a mental health professional.

Finally, and most unique and specific to church leaders, is spiritual trauma.

Dr. Alyson Stone, an Austin therapist who specializes in spiritual trauma, defines spiritual trauma as “an event, series of events, relationships, or circumstances within or connected to religious beliefs, practices, or structures that are experienced by an individual as overwhelming or disruptive and has lasting adverse effects on a person’s physical, mental, social, emotional, or spiritual well-being.”

Typically, these are associated with restrictive religious beliefs that include oppressive views of women and elevate fear, power, shame, and perfectionism.

Our understanding of God can lead to spiritual trauma. If we were raised to believe God is constantly watching and waiting for us to mess up to strike us down, we would likely have a negative attachment to God built on fear, shame, and power. However, seeing God as just, caring, and loving leads to a more healthy attachment to God.

One of the more common tactics that leads to spiritual trauma is “spiritual bypass.” This occurs when we use spiritual practices and beliefs to avoid dealing with painful feelings. This can look like a church leader telling a congregant that anger, which is sometimes justified, is solely a “worldly” emotion, not a spiritual one.

People who have experienced spiritual trauma are often walking through the doors of our churches. We must do everything possible to ensure we aren’t adding to that trauma when they walk out. Simply stepping foot in a church building can be difficult for people who have experienced spiritual trauma.

Sometimes, something as simple as hearing a specific worship song could make victims of spiritual trauma remember painful memories. It can be difficult for them to heal in a space that constantly reminds them of their trauma. This can make their personal faith inextricably tied to trauma.

Another term that is helpful to be aware of is “triggering.” For various reasons, this word has become an insult thrown at people to suggest weakness or hypersensitivity. We are beginning to see the word “activating” replace “triggering” because of the prevalence of gun violence. When difficult memories are “activated” or a person is “triggered,” it is often a result of a sensory experience. Something we smell, see, feel, hear, or taste reminds our brains of the traumatic event.

This isn’t just a trauma response. Have you ever walked into a store and it smelled exactly like your grandparents’ house? It mentally sent you back to that place. It’s the same thing that occurs with triggering or activation: A sensory experience sends our brains back to the traumatic event, which puts us back in survival mode.

Take the car wreck example. The moment you sit in the driver’s seat for the first time after a wreck, you may notice a heightened level of anxiety. Your brain is telling your body, “Hey! The last time we were here, we almost died. So make sure we survive this time.” You may be physically safe in the moment, but your body is telling you otherwise.

Trauma Sensitivity

So, what does trauma sensitivity look like?

At C3I, we are community social workers. Our work, including that with trauma, is with systems, policies, and communities rather than in clinical, therapeutic settings.

At its core, trauma sensitivity recognizes that people often have different types of trauma in their lives​. It suggests those who have experienced trauma need support and understanding from those around them​. It emphasizes physical, psychological, and emotional safety, and it helps survivors rebuild a sense of control and empowerment​.

In short, trauma sensitivity recognizes the prevalence of trauma and our need to adjust our words, actions, and policies to be sensitive to that trauma. It prioritizes a survivor’s need for safety and control over their situation.

Before the COVID-19 pandemic, 90% of the country had experienced at least one traumatic event. After the pandemic, almost everyone has experienced it, even if we have experienced it in different ways. This means that we should approach every interaction with the assumption that the people in front of us have experienced some kind of trauma.

We often think trauma sensitivity is simply adding a content warning at the beginning of a passage that has violent content. While this is absolutely a trauma-sensitive practice, C3I advocates for a deeper systemic approach where certain essential questions are addressed.

Are there systems of care in place for those whose traumatic experiences are activated during a service? Are there lines of communication open for questioning and voicing concerns about a pastor? During pastoral care sessions, is the minister honoring their role as a pastor and not a mental health professional? Can the congregant control the next steps of a pastoral care session?

A good example of this is in pastoral conversations regarding domestic violence.

Often, church leaders want to fix abusive relationships. It is a natural instinct to try to take charge of a situation and dictate when an abused person would leave, where they should, and other subsequent details.

When this happens, the church leader has effectively taken all control away from the survivor during a time that already feels like everything is out of their control. This, then, makes the situation worse. A trauma-sensitive approach would include believing the abused person in the relationship and vowing to support them in any way they choose to move forward. 

C3I Support For Congregations

Over the past two years, with support from the Eula Mae and John Baugh Foundation, C3I has launched the Building Resilient Congregations program with three cohorts: trauma care, accompaniment, and LGBTQ+ discernment.

During year 1, we created ten curriculum modules for each topic. In the second year, we held the three cohorts with congregations from across the country. Each congregational team worked through one module each month and then met on Zoom to discuss the content.

Each module included hands-on practice for congregations. These included adopting policies, creating asset maps, and group processing time, allowing congregations to dive deeper into trauma-sensitive practices and create systemic change in their churches.

After completing the project, each curriculum will be available online in a self-paced certificate program for church leaders.

I work with local congregations because I deeply believe in the power of the local church and what the Church should be. I don’t want to bypass any of the harm the Church has caused, but for us to learn and do better.

Some of my greatest joys and deepest pain have been at the hands of the church. At C3I, we want to reduce spiritual trauma and increase the sense of belonging and safety within local congregations. Our mission is to equip churches to create environments of relational belonging that extend to their surrounding communities. We believe that when congregations thrive, they become sources of strength and support for individuals, families, and communities.

People trust us with their sacred stories. We must hold that trust with reverence and serve them well.