Deafen the Silence: How Vocal Christian Opposition to Child Sexual Abuse Will Change the World
Robert J. Peters
Consider this scene: Religious leaders are in the courtroom to support a father accused of sexually abusing his 12-year-old daughter. When the girl sees her mother, siblings, and church leaders, all seated behind her father, she pulls on the prosecutor’s arm and whispers, “Does this mean God is against me too?”
It is not uncommon for a defendant who is active and popular in a congregation to receive overwhelming support from religious people when accused of behavior which seems out of character. Typically, church members and leaders side with the defendant against the victim. Defendants and their family members, as well as defense attorneys, make every effort to exonerate the accused church leader and rally support, while victims are so traumatized that they avoid public discourse. This trend is especially sinister in light of the spiritual rhetoric abusers often use to manipulate children into victimization. For instance, Father Lawrence Murphy, who abused around 200 deaf or hearing impaired young boys, told one victim that “God wanted him to teach the boy about sex but that he had to keep it quiet because it was under the sacrament of confession.”
One survivor described similar abuse by a Baptist youth minister: “Eddie always said that God had chosen me for something special. I guess I really wanted to believe that. Doesn’t every kid want to think they’re special? Besides, who was I to question a man of God?”
Many church leaders believe that such misuse of religious authority in sexual predation are isolated instances, but in recent years the evidence has been developed to show that these tragedies are widespread. A study of 3,952 sex offenders found that 93% described themselves as religious. Sex offenders involved with religious institutions “had more sexual offense convictions, more victims, and younger victims” than offenders from other settings. Clergy manipulation is spiritually damaging to victims, decreases church attendance and trust in God, and in many cases permanently harms people’s relationship with Christ.
The Church’s silence on the issue of child abuse is deafening. Even many who acknowledge child abuse as a significant problem do not comprehend its scope. In a CDC study of 17,337 adults, 27% of women and 16% of men report that they were sexually abused as children. In 2009, at least 1,676 children died from extreme abuse or neglect. “The average child molester victimizes between 50 and 150 children before he is ever arrested (and many more after he is arrested).” The Abel study of 561 confirmed sexual offenders revealed 195,000 victims; if the victims met together, they would fill two and one-half Superdomes.
Child abuse affects everyone. It fuels suffering on a global scale. Abused persons have high rates of alcoholism and suicide. They are far more vulnerable to cross-border traffickers of children. The evidence is overwhelming. A Center for Disease Control study defined “adverse childhood experiences” (ACE) as childhood abuse, neglect, and exposure to other trauma. The study found that adults suffering one or more ACE were at a substantially higher risk for a variety of health problems, including illicit drug use, adolescent pregnancies, intimate partner violence, suicide attempts, and several others. ACE-related research has been duplicated “more than 25 times and with more than 450,000 patients,” leading one scholar to remark, “It is perhaps the most well-documented fact in the history of medical science that childhood trauma dramatically increases your chance for just about anything.”
These health and behavioral struggles are not without their costs. Healthcare spending in the United States exceeds $2.6 trillion every year, and one study calculated the aggregate burden of crime as exceeding $1 trillion annually. Ignoring the role of childhood trauma in these issues is dealing with “the smoke and… ignoring the underlying fire.” According to former National Child Protection Training Center Director Victor Vieth, “Every single social ill would go down if child abuse would go down. Everything changes.”
But alarming social costs aside, when the abuse occurs in religious settings, and the abuser is a religious leader, a representative of Jesus Christ, how much more tragic is the harm. The fact that sexual abuse among Protestants and other nonCatholic congregations is endemic, is masked by denial, underreporting, misplaced loyalty to abusers, gross misuse of Scripture, and sometimes a callous disregard for the wellbeing of the victim in favor of protections for the abuser.
Imagine a different reality. What if Christian leaders immediately reported abuse to authorities, educated their congregations, and developed support systems for the survivors who undoubtedly sit in their pews?
Survivors of abuse are capable of incredible resilience, and the Church can and must be a part of developing that potential. In fact, a survey of childhood sexual abuse literature identified “being part of a religious group,” and the social support that this can provide, as developing the resilience and healing for the survivors. In church congregations, among friends and fellow believers, survivors can discuss problems and develop confiding relationships, thereby increasing resilience. Spirituality and “the ability to find emotional support outside the family” have been identified elsewhere as important factors in restoration.
In the face of tragedy crying out for love and support from the faith community, it is no accident that Christ’s two greatest commandments to the Church were to love God and love others. What if the prestige of individuals and institutions was laid at the foot of the cross, and Christian leaders manifested a love for God through a love for survivors?
When this happens, everything changes. May Aslan roar, and deafen the silence.
Robert Peters is a law clerk with the United States Attorney’s Office and a third year law student at Liberty University School of Law. He lives in Lynchburg, VA with his wife Kristin.
