Is Nothing Sacred? 1 Timothy and Clergy Sexual Abuse

Clergy Misconduct and Abuse

I want to talk about the problem of misconduct by clergypersons as a widespread reality across our various churches. No one is immune. The historical record is clear. I will use examples from my experiences working with Christian, Jewish, and Buddhist communities to illustrate the challenges that face us. But I am going to focus primarily on the institutional and organizational challenges facing our churches.

Of course, the #MeToo movement ⁵ (formed in 2006 and revitalized in 2017) provides the backdrop for this discussion. We have heard survivors speaking out and creating the critical mass necessary to pivot social awareness and help us face the fact of sexual violence, abuse, and harassment in every institution in our society. In addition, this movement has revealed the efforts of institutions and bystanders to protect powerful men from the consequences of their misconduct. These two elements, the collective voices of survivors and the visibility of institutional complicity, both reflect and inform our efforts within the churches. In other words, it’s the same story everywhere we turn. The #ChurchToo movement began in 2017 to extend the #MeToo conversation to churches. ⁶

FaithTrust Institute ⁷ has been addressing the problem of clergy misconduct since we were contacted by a victim/survivor in 1983. As disclosures increased from multiple denominations and faith groups, it was quickly apparent that religious institutions were not at all prepared to respond to this problem that had festered below the surface for years. So, our work at FaithTrust focused on creating appropriate institutional processes for response, including policy development and training.

The Problem with Power

The earliest written record of a standard of professional ethics came from Hippocrates in the fourth cent. BCE. In addition to the overall pledge for doctors to “do no harm,” the original included this:

Whatever houses I may visit, I will come for the benefit of the sick, remaining free of all intentional injustice, of all mischief and in particular of sexual relations with both female and male persons, be they free or slaves. ⁸

It is interesting that when the original oath was translated and revised in the U.S. in 1964, this entire section was deleted. ⁹

In the original Hippocratic Oath, clearly the issues of power and vulnerability, of fiduciary responsibility, and of just relations were acknowledged as fundamental in the physician-patient relationship. This clarity plus the specificity of sexual boundaries are generally not found in the teachings of the churches in reference to pastors and leaders.

The problem of the misuse of power and the violation of sexual boundaries by clergy is nothing new. Historic examples suggest that the discussion of this fact of life is also not new. The contemporary disclosure of clergy misconduct and abuse of victims and survivors, however, is new.

A Study in the Failure of Religious Institutions

The powerful exploiting the vulnerable is a long-standing and tragic part of human history. It is a thread woven throughout the historical record. The shortsighted, default position of most institutions is to enforce silence and secrecy in the face of disclosures of abuse in an effort to protect abusers (usually persons with power), avoid consequences, and minimize “scandal.” The real scandal here is the profound contradiction between this institutional response to harm carried out by representatives of the church and the values, teachings, and precepts of the church itself. The result is thousands of people abused by someone they were taught to trust. If this were any other institution, the contradiction would not be so profound. But these are our churches. It is the betrayal of trust by one who should be trustworthy, compounded by the betrayal of trust by an institution that should be trustworthy, the worst betrayal of all.

It is one thing for an individual to experience betrayal of trust by a single pastor. But when that betrayal combines with the churches also betraying trust, turning away, and blaming the victim, the harm is multiplied. If instead the church responds to the victim’s disclosure with respect, compassion, and justice, the individual’s trust in her/his faith community is sustained, as well as their trust in the Christian faith itself.

A Word about Research

Overall sociological research within faith communities about clergy misconduct and abuse has been sparse. A research study by Dr. David Rosmarin of Harvard and Dr. David Pelcovitz of Yeshiva University found that Orthodox Jews who have been sexually abused are stepping away from their faith. ¹⁰ Lani Santo, former director of Footsteps, makes the observation that:

The communal response to abuse was more significant than the declining religiosity brought on by the abuse itself. If someone experiences abuse as a child and told a parent who spoke to the school and nothing is done, it opens up a Pandora’s box of questions for them. People who made the very difficult decision to leave ultra-Orthodoxy are leaving because it’s a place where their questions are not necessarily welcome. ¹¹

Meyer Seewald, executive director of Jewish Community Watch, a New York-based victims’ advocacy group, adds this:

The tendency of insular religious groups to cast doubt on victims’ claims and defend alleged abusers has had far-reaching effects on children who were molested. If you had a community that had a leader that called on people to come forward and said “we believe you and will protect you,” I believe 150 percent that people wouldn’t be leaving in the way that they are. ¹²

The same can be said for our churches.

In 2008, Dr. Diana Garland from Baylor University directed the first national, random survey to try to measure extent of sexual abuse by clergy. She documented the reality that so many survivors already knew:

Of the entire sample, 8% report having known about CSM [clergy sexual misconduct] occurring in a congregation they have attended. Therefore, in the average American congregation of 400 congregants, there are, on average, 32 persons who have experienced CSM in their community of faith. ¹³

In addition to survivor testimonies, anecdotes, and lawsuits, we need more research in order to examine the dynamics of power and privilege at work in our churches that encourage and sustain sexual abuse by clergy.

How can we explain this persistent contradiction between clergy misconduct in our churches and stated Christian values affirming protection of those who are vulnerable that only intensifies the damage to individuals and further corrodes the credibility of the churches? Dr. Judith Herman provides some insight into this situation in her classic text, Trauma and Recovery:

To study psychological trauma is to come face to face both with human vulnerability in the natural world and with the capacity for evil in human nature. To study psychological trauma means bearing witness to horrible events. When the events are natural disasters or ‘acts of God,’ those who bear witness sympathize readily with the victim. But when the traumatic events are of human design, those who bear witness are caught in the conflict between victim and perpetrator. It is morally impossible to remain neutral in this conflict. The bystander is forced to take sides.

It is very tempting to take the side of the perpetrator. All the perpetrator asks is that the bystander do nothing. He appeals to the universal desire to see, hear, and speak no evil. The victim, on the contrary, asks the bystander to share the burden of pain. The victim demands action, engagement, and remembering. ¹⁴

When a pastor abuses a congregant, and this reality is disclosed, the church is the bystander and is forced to take sides. Unfortunately, all too often it has chosen to use its considerable power to take the side of the perpetrator. An institution like the church (usually with power) will too often seek to minimize and deny any complaint and seek ways to blame the victim. In pursuing this agenda, the church purports to act in its own interest, yet in contradiction to its own values. In spite of all of this, victims, survivors, and their allies are speaking out; the bell has been rung; the silence has been broken; the false center no longer holds.

Factors that Define Institutional Failure

Needed: A Moral Imperative and a Clear Ethical Analysis

What is the basis in the church for a moral imperative to protect the vulnerable and hold the powerful accountable? Whether it is the Hospitality Code in the Hebrew Bible (Deut 24:17–22) or the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5) in the Gospels, the consistent message is the moral imperative to stand with the vulnerable over and against exploitation by the powerful. The Hospitality Code mandates that the community of the covenant corporately care for the most vulnerable members of the community, named in the text as widows, orphans, and strangers. But the basis of this mandate is not altruism; rather the text reminds the reader that “you were once slaves in Egypt.” Remember your own vulnerabilities and your expectations to be protected and not exploited. When we have resources (power), we have a responsibility not to exploit those who are vulnerable because at any moment, we could be in the same position. The Hospitality Code mandates protection and support and to do no harm.

Similarly, the concept of power and its implications underlies the Rules of the Sea, ¹⁷ which are international guidelines for naval navigation. There is a hierarchy among boats and ships based on the capacity to maneuver a vessel. The person sailing a vessel with greater maneuverability (i.e., more power) such as a boat under power must give way to a vessel with lesser maneuverability such as a sailboat or kayak. The basic value here is that with power and resources comes responsibility. But even more interesting is the language which delineates these relationships. The vessel with more power is described as the “burdened” party; the vessel with less power is described as the “privileged” party. The speedboat has the burden of avoiding the sailboat and thus protecting it; the sailboat has the privilege of being assured that the speedboat will avoid interfering or causing it damage. These adjectives “burdened” and “privileged” establish a moral imperative in this relationship. The power of the clerical office or the power of the institutional church is the “burden” not to exploit the vulnerability of a congregant who is in a “privileged” position and trusts the capacity of the clergyperson or the church to fulfill its responsibility.

In addition to a moral imperative to protect the vulnerable, use power responsibly, and stand with the victim, the church also needs a clear and unequivocal ethical framework to guide our understanding and actions. What seems to be missing is a fundamental understanding of the nature of the problem of sexual abuse by clergy.

It is a violation of pastoral professional ethics for any person in a ministerial role of leadership or pastoral counseling (clergy or lay) to engage in sexual contact or sexualized behavior with a congregant, client, employee, student, etc. (adult, teen, or child) within the professional (pastoral or supervisory) relationship. ¹⁸

Why is it wrong for a minister to be sexual with someone whom he/she serves or supervises?

Without a sound ethical framework for addressing sexual abuse by clergy, the institutional church cannot even comprehend the disclosures from victims, much less respond appropriately. Our ethical understanding will drive our response.

A church’s credibility following a pastor’s boundary violation can be restored depending on how it responds to this ongoing crisis. Congregants do not expect perfection from their leaders. They accept our humanity, our foibles, our mistakes, and even our misconduct—even when they suffer from it. What they cannot accept and do not deserve is incompetence, cover-up, corruption, blame, and betrayal by the institution that supposedly holds individual leaders accountable. This secondary victimization which comes when the church ignores their pleas and punishes them for speaking out is where the deepest wounds occur. They feel cheated and have no place of sanctuary or refuge. It is the contradiction between their experience and their love and trust of the church that is the hardest. All they are asking is that we be true to our own stated values and precepts. When we fall short, they should expect confession, acknowledgement of responsibility, repentance, and protection by the powers that be.

If our churches chose to use their considerable power and resources, it could be a real source of justice and healing. To do so requires a resolution of the contradiction that is eating away at the heart of so many churches. As we continue to be confounded by the contradiction in values that underlie the wrongheaded responses to sexual abuse by clergy, what we see are responses by leadership to disclosures of abuse that are motivated by fear and not faith: fear of the victim/survivor, fear of liability, fear of “scandal,” fear of inadequacy, fear of political repercussions within the institution, fear of loss of status as a leader, fear of external “enemies.” What we need are courageous leaders, grounded in their faith, trusting their people, and trusting in our capacity as churches to see, hear and speak about this evil among us. We need leaders who are not afraid to use their power, authority, and resources to lead us through these times of turmoil and uncertainty.

These are the current challenges I see for our churches in the U.S. in response to abuse and misconduct by persons in leadership:

Judy Beals, a Boston activist working for many years to address sexual abuse, describes the challenge:

The turning point in every social justice movement occurs when the authentic leadership of survivors is met with the genuine commitments of our most powerful social institutions. The result, inevitably, is the strengthening of existing systems that work and the continual development of new innovations, protections, and partnerships that we have yet to even imagine. If there is any silver lining to the recent tragic events (disclosures of sexual abuse of children by priests), it is the opportunity to channel public outrage into lasting structures and commitments that will rid society of sexual violence. If we fail to do this, the shame is ours. ¹⁹

Ms. Beals is correct in her assessment. We, as members and leaders of our churches, have an opportunity to change—not only to address this current crisis but also to prevent its reoccurrence in the future.

Conclusion

In considering how we might use 1 Timothy to inform our understanding of church leadership and organization, we would do well to realize that the author is speaking to the concerns of the early church as he experienced them: structure, roles of leadership, dealing with diversity of opinion and conflict, and the importance of character and integrity. We certainly face the same problematic issues for the twenty-first-century church as he did for the early church. One of the more pressing concerns must be confronting clergy misconduct and the exploitation of vulnerable congregants.

It is interesting that the author of 1 Timothy expresses some particular concern for the treatment of older men and of “real” widows, perhaps out of recognition of their social and economic vulnerabilities (ch. 5). Yet the extensive discussion of who is a legitimate widow and the questioning of the status of young widows and their sexualities suggest a limited understanding of the sexual vulnerabilities of all women.

Hopefully we can bring a deeper social analysis in today’s church that recognizes the structural inequities which manifest in vulnerabilities based on age, sex, race, sexual orientation, class, etc. The real challenge is how we are informed by gospel values such as justice, healing, compassion, and accountability as we address the administrative, pastoral, and prophetic tasks before us. The Hospitality Code continues to call us to protect but also to empower those who are vulnerable to harm.

The prophet Jeremiah reminds us:

Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals and make mere flesh their strength, whose hearts turn away from God. They shall be like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see when relief comes. . . Blessed are those who trust in God . . . They shall be like a tree planted by water . . . (Jer 17:5–8)

It is necessary for all of us to become like trees planted by water, trusting our faith traditions to challenge and guide us to confront abuse and misconduct and to respond with justice and healing.