When Love Is Weaponized: The Church’s Complicity in Enabling Abuse

There’s a particular kind of harm that happens when churches misuse the word “love.” It’s not always loud or obvious. Often, it’s dressed in soft words and spiritual language—verses about patience, sermons on forgiveness, exhortations to be peacemakers. But behind the Christian jargon is a disturbing reality: victims of emotional and psychological abuse are often pressured to stay silent, stay close, and stay "loving"—even when their well-being is at stake.

I’ve seen it firsthand, and I’m no longer willing to call it love.

In many Christian circles, setting a boundary is viewed as unloving. Distancing yourself from someone—especially a family member or someone in your church community—is often framed as bitterness, unforgiveness, or rebellion. But what if that person is a narcissist? What if they manipulate, lie, gaslight, or repeatedly demean you?

You quickly discover that there’s often more grace in the church for the abuser than for the one drawing a line in the sand.

Boundaries Are Love

Healthy boundaries are not signs of hate or unforgiveness. They are acts of wisdom, stewardship, and yes—love. Boundaries say, “I will not allow you to continue to harm me or others.” They offer the narcissist or emotionally abusive person an opportunity to face reality, to experience consequences, and maybe—just maybe—to change. Shielding them from all consequences in the name of “Christian love” only enables their sin.

Jesus himself set boundaries. He walked away from crowds. He didn’t entrust himself to manipulative leaders. He confronted toxic behavior directly. If Jesus had boundaries, why are we made to feel guilty for having them too?

The Church’s Misunderstanding of Love

The problem is that many churches equate love with appeasement. They confuse love with passivity. But love is not codependence. Love is not enabling. Love does not mean continually placing yourself in the line of emotional fire to prove your holiness.

1 Corinthians 13 tells us that love “rejoices in the truth.” That means love does not ignore reality to keep the peace. It confronts sin. It grieves injustice. It honors both grace and truth—never one at the expense of the other.

But in many Christian settings, love is reduced to niceness. You’re told to “just let it go,” to “not cause division,” to “keep the peace.” But Scripture never commands us to tolerate abuse for the sake of appearances.

Forgiveness Does Not Mean Reconciliation

This is another area the church frequently gets wrong. Forgiveness is a personal release of bitterness and vengeance. It’s about freeing your own heart, not excusing the sin or pretending it didn’t happen. Reconciliation, on the other hand, requires repentance and change. You can forgive someone and still choose to keep your distance. You can forgive someone and not trust them. You can forgive someone and still say, “You’re not safe for me to be around.”

Jesus said, “If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him” (Luke 17:3). Notice the condition: if he repents. Forgiveness can be extended without repentance, but reconciliation depends on it.

Telling abuse victims to reconcile with unrepentant abusers is not only unbiblical—it’s dangerous.

The Idol of Reconciliation

Churches often idolize reconciliation, even when it's toxic. They pressure victims to rejoin toxic relationships, declaring it a victory for the gospel. But true reconciliation doesn’t happen when one party pretends the abuse never happened and the other never takes ownership. That’s not healing—it’s performance.

And yet, the person who sets the boundary is often the one labeled unloving. “You need to forgive.” “You’re being bitter.” “You’re holding a grudge.” These spiritual-sounding accusations mask a deep misunderstanding of what love actually is.

Love can say, “I want what’s best for you, but I can’t be in relationship with you while you continue to harm me.”

That’s not bitterness. That’s integrity.

What the Church Needs to Learn

Churches must stop coddling emotionally abusive people in the name of “love.” They must stop teaching that a victim’s silence or continued closeness is the only path to Christlikeness. That is not the gospel.

The gospel makes room for both grace and boundaries. Jesus loved people deeply, but he was never manipulated. He never hesitated to speak hard truths. He never asked his followers to sacrifice themselves to enable someone else's sin.

We need churches that understand this. Churches that support victims rather than silence them. Churches that call out narcissistic behavior rather than excusing it. Churches that teach that sometimes love looks like walking away.

Because love, real love, does not enable sin. It confronts it. It draws boundaries around it. It calls people to repentance—not just victims to reconciliation.

Final Thought:
If you’ve been told that love means tolerating abuse, please know this: That’s not what Jesus taught. You are allowed to say “no.” You are allowed to walk away. And you are still walking in love when you do.

Rooted in Jesus Grace,

Mara Wellspring