To my mind, Chuck DeGroat’s When Narcissism Comes to Church (IVP, 2020) was published at precisely the right time. I say that because it’s a book I would have snatched up a decade ago had it been available, given the situation I found myself in at the time, but I would not have been emotionally prepared to fully appreciate. The intervening years, I realized as I read the book recently, have softened me up to many of the conclusions DeGroat draws and positions he contends for, most notably in calling us all to identify and empathize with the narcissistic personality.

DeGroat, to his credit, sees the narcissist as so much more than a label, and in fact highlights small and large ways that such analysis can dehumanize and—ironically enough—perpetuate the troubling thought and heart patterns at the root of the narcissism we think we despise. Most impressive about DeGroat’s work is that he carefully balances penetrating insight into the nature of narcissism and the damage it does (to individuals and communities) with a generous compassion for all involved. Ultimately, he demonstrates that these two postures are not at odds but are intimately intertwined, given the locus of narcissism in shame and trauma all its own.

Ultimately, the promise of DeGroat’s book is the promise of Christianity applied to what often seems an irremediable condition. If the gospel is true, then no human being is outside the reach of grace, DeGroat compellingly insists and beautifully depicts. If the gospel is true, then redemption is not a zero-sum game, available for only one segment of humanity at the expense of another. And if the gospel is true, we must not deny the reality and destructive power of sin but instead face it squarely and surrender to Jesus as “the living antidote to narcissism” (167), a sentiment that in DeGroat’s hands transcends what might otherwise be dismissed as cliche.

My interest in the book’s topic stems, among other things, from an abusive friendship that ended long ago. I’m no therapist and have no background in psychology or counseling, but “toxic narcissist” is the label I eventually landed on as a way to understand my traumatic experience with this person. All the literature I have read on the subject fits the patterns I endured: the mercurial spirit, the entitlement, the belittling and callous control. It was soul-crushing. The insights offered in the work of experts like Leslie Vernick and Lundy Bancroft provided a means of escape, self-protection, and hope for recovery.

It has been a decade since I broke free from that dysfunctional relationship, and I have experienced much healing during that time. I think, though, the success of that process required a measure of callousing my heart to my abuser. For far too long, I had (unwisely) made myself vulnerable to this (unsafe) person and my empathy for the traumatic childhood she had endured was manipulated to keep me under her thumb. Escaping the clutch of her machinations was possible only by building up strong boundaries, perhaps even overcompensating for my prior lack of them.

So when I picked up DeGroat’s primer on narcissism, especially as it is manifested in the church, I expected more of the same—a rundown of narcissistic personality traits, a guide to recognizing narcissistic abuse, and tips for recovery from such trauma. When Narcissism Comes to Church has all that, and it is particularly helpful for identifying ways in which Christian organizations and churches have specific susceptibilities to narcissistic personalities and dynamics. The spiritual mission can be quite the cudgel, and theological truths like sin and forgiveness are often flattened out to fit an abuser’s agenda. When Narcissism Comes to Church fills in helpful context for better understanding the many ways narcissism sadly finds an easy fit in Christian circles. Born from DeGroat’s twenty-plus years as therapist and church-planting assessor, it offers hard-won and practical wisdom, complemented by myriad examples drawn from his study and practice. This is not merely abstract theoretical knowledge about abstruse psychological categories but guidance for real life.

As DeGroat explains in his introduction, there has been an uptick in narcissistic tendencies on a cultural level, and so his concern in what follows is not simply to nail narcissists to the proverbial wall with a restrictive diagnosis or to separate out the abusers and the victims, the bad guys and the good. No, his goal instead is to “invite each of us to ask how we participate in narcissistic systems while providing clear resources for those traumatized by narcissistic relationships, particularly in the church” (4).[1] He does so through appeal to psychiatric diagnostic tools, to the Enneagram (an approach unique to him), to a wealth of counseling resources, to the Church Fathers, and to scripture.

The book traverses much ground: from defining narcissism (while also complexifying the definition), to showing the tremendous range of the narcissistic spectrum and the myriad ways narcissism can present itself, to unpacking characteristics of the narcissistic leader and system, to diagnosing the wounds and shame at the heart of the narcissistic personality and sketching the contours of abuse, and to offering pathways to healing for the narcissist and those wounded by him or her. DeGroat does all of this in less than 200 pages. It is an accessible book, and the author’s background enables him to wrangle otherwise dense and difficult material into a clearly organized presentation, hitting the most important highlights and illustrating key ideas with memorable and poignant examples.

This is a must-read for anyone interested in learning more about narcissism and emotional and spiritual abuse, and even more so for those in Christian communities. As DeGroat explains, we are charged in scripture to be diligent, to “keep watch” and do what he calls “shadow work” to root out unhealthy strongholds and to inculcate habits of flourishing. The material he provides in this book, though not exhaustive, will certainly be a starting point for anyone wanting to undertake this journey and, in fact, will encourage them to do so.

When Narcissism Comes to Church is not primarily a reference manual, though in some ways it is that; rather, it paints a beautiful picture of hope. Bookended by references to Philippians 2, DeGroat’s volume undermines the theological manipulations often employed by the narcissist in Christian circles. Paul’s call to humility, in imitation of Christ’s kenotic move to dwell among us, could easily be twisted by an abusive personality or system—burdening the disempowered to become even more powerless in service of the authoritarian leader or toxic organization. “Don’t expect to get what you deserve,” such voices might say. “Be obedient and surrender to the leader’s authority, no matter how capricious or unjust.” Those who have been beholden to such figures recognize well how easily truths of scripture can be wielded as weapons.

But by holding the passage from Philippians as a standard for all Christians and especially by emphasizing the promise of the Incarnation depicted there, DeGroat defangs the narcissist’s bite. The humility and condescension of Christ of course stands in stark contrast to the narcissist’s grandiosity and self-centeredness, but it also vividly displays the beauty and love of Christ’s participation in our sufferings and the paradoxical power enacted by his sacrifice. Christ beckons us to love like that. Even more importantly, his love enables us to love the otherwise unlovely and—gloriously enough—to transform the unlovely into someone beautiful and fully alive.

This review cannot do justice to the richness of DeGroat’s conclusions, especially his final chapter and epilogue. As a survivor of narcissistic abuse, to my surprise, I was deeply moved by his generous call to love, to identify with our fellow image bearers no matter where they fall on the narcissistic spectrum, and to seek healing holistically and communally. As DeGroat himself notes, this may be too challenging a charge for the moment for those still dealing with the aftermath of narcissistic trauma.

But for those who can, for those who have done the inner work and can enter in from a position of strength, DeGroat invites us on a journey from slavery to freedom, of death to life, of despair to hope. We would be wise to join him.

[1] This is the kind of thing I would have bristled at a decade ago, especially since I would have had a hard time seeing past the invitation to examine my complicity in my narcissistic relationship. It may even have set back my healing. But this side of that healing process, I can now more than see the wisdom of DeGroat’s call.

Marybeth Davis Baggett teaches English at Houston Baptist University. Having earned her Ph.D. in English from Indiana University of Pennsylvania, Marybeth’s professional interests include literary theory, contemporary American literature, science fiction, and dystopian literature. She also writes and edits for Christ and Pop Culture. Her most recent publication was a chapter called “What Means Utopia to Us? Reconsidering More’s Message,” in Hope and the Longing for Utopia: Futures and Illusions in Theology and the Arts. Marybeth's most recent book is The Morals of the Story: Good News about a Good God, coauthored with her husband, David.