‘There will be terrible times in the last days. People will be … unholy, … without self-control, brutal, … lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God … Have nothing to do with such people.’ 2 Timothy 3:1–5

Summary

The responses of evangelical churches and organisations to allegations of abuse have been vitiated by five factors: wrong expectations, wrong priorities, a wrong reading of biblical stories, a wrong approach to sin and crime, and a wrong view of love and justice. First, evangelical institutions have fallen prey to the cult of the charismatic leader. Second, when abuse has been exposed, it has been dealt with privately and/or with a focus on rehabilitating the offender rather than vindicating the victims and preventing others from being victimised. Third, the ugly truths of sexual and other forms of abuse with which the Bible deals have been replaced by narratives which protect the powerful. Fourth, the reality that we are all sinners has been used to obscure the truth that some sins are deeply destructive and amount to crimes meriting public action. Fifth, love has been wrongly separated from justice.

Introduction

News headlines reveal a shocking catalogue of abuses of power (1) in the police, in business, (2) in sport, (3) in the media, (4) in voluntary organisations (5) and in the Church. Within the Church, no theological tradition is safe from abusers: they can be Catholic (6) or Anglo-Catholic, (7) liberal or Mennonite, (8) conservative or charismatic evangelical. (9) Men in positions of power have been repeatedly, but sadly very belatedly, exposed as serial abusers. The recent television show, Douglas Is Cancelled, and the highest profile resignation by Justin Welby, Archbishop of Canterbury, have focused attention on how institutions fail to face up to abuse or worse still actively cover it up.

Abusers exploit their power, position and reputation to perpetrate their abuse. They often rely on their ability to appear friendly with their victims (10) and count on being viewed as too valuable to lose by the institutions they profess to serve. Abusers use a combination of techniques to silence their victims: these include isolation, threats, victim-blaming, shaming, double-binds (11) and gaslighting. Another technique is normalisation: the abuser feeds the victim lies, false justifications and pretexts. (12)

Dr Elly Hanson, a Clinical Psychologist, observes that: ‘a large variety of beliefs and values (whether they be religious, political, economic or philosophical) can be conducive to abuse when they are held “ideologically” – followed at the expense of a core care and regard for every human being.’ (13) Although abusers can twist almost any ideas and beliefs to justify their actions, the recent exposure of serious abuses by prominent evangelical leaders, abuse which occurred or which was not addressed effectively over a sustained period, demands reflection on whether and how patterns of evangelical thought and practice led to some of our churches and organisations being places which were havens for abusers but deeply unsafe for their victims. (14) What are the institutional factors to which evangelical churches and organisations are prone that have contributed to abusers flourishing within our midst?

Wrong expectations

Evangelical churches and organisations are vulnerable to the cult of personality; they can have the wrong expectations about what godly leadership looks like, about the likelihood of leaders acting wrongly or abusively, and about what missional success looks like. Our emphasis on the Word and the Spirit can reinforce wider cultural trends which prize charismatic, heroic, male leaders. (15) We can too easily place on a pedestal leaders who can command a stage, hold a congregation spellbound by their words and inspire others to donate their finances and their time. We can, consequently, be willing to overlook their narcissistic tendencies, toxic masculinity and patterns of behaviour designed to insulate themselves from criticism.

This need not be the case. Wise leaders actively encourage others to hold them to account, as Paul did when he urged the Galatians to be on their guard lest he should preach a false gospel (Galatians 1:8–9). George Verwer, the founder of the missionary organisation Operation Mobilisation, would repeatedly warn his audiences that he might get it wrong, fail or fall, and that if he did so, people should not follow him, they should follow Jesus.

“If women are silenced or sidelined, this is an open field for abusers to thrive.”

Evangelical churches and organisations can be naïve about the likelihood of leaders acting wrongly or abusively. Teaching which overemphasises the transformative impact of conversion, the work of the Holy Spirit, the idea of anointing, or suggests the possibility of perfection in this life, ignores the vital Reformation truth that believers, though justified, remain sinners who constantly need to examine themselves, repent and be held accountable. The Bible tells us to expect that there will be wolves in shepherd’s clothing (Ezekiel 34:8). Paul cautioned the church leaders in Ephesus that ‘Even from your own number men will arise and distort the truth in order to draw away disciples after them. So be on your guard!’ (Acts 20:30–31a). Such warnings come too rarely from our pulpits and platforms.

We have read the Bible with too little imagination, bravery and honesty. We have shown too little interest in power relationships. The New Testament repeatedly warns against ‘sexual immorality’ (porneia) (1 Corinthians 5–7; Galatians 5:19; Colossians 3:5; 1 Thessalonians 4:3; Jude 1:7; Revelation 2:20–23). This is not limited to extramarital sex between two freely consenting adults but includes all sexual abuse and impropriety. The New Testament writers are honest that this sort of behaviour was happening in multiple locations in the early Church. We have read the condemnation in 2 Timothy 3:1–5 of those whose seeming godliness is a cloak for pride, greed, abuse, slander, brutality and their own pleasure without seeing that it describes the pastor obsessed with their own celebrity, the dishonest treasurer and the trustee or volunteer who is using their position in order to exploit others.

Effective accountability is the antidote to the cult of the heroic leader. Accountability is a basic principle of good organisational design, which guards against the abuse of power by forcing leaders to explain how they have exercised their responsibilities. The biblical pattern is for church leadership to be plural: whether the terms ‘deacon’, ‘elder’ and ‘bishop’ are meant to refer to leadership within a congregation or in wider associations of churches, we need structures in which a public rebuke can be delivered as effectively as Paul did to Peter (Galatians 2:11–14) or as Paul urged Timothy to deal with elders who were sinning (1 Timothy 5:20). (16)

Even if structures of plural leadership are in place, we need to be vigilant about the risk of what Marcus Honeysett calls ‘accountability capture’. Accountability capture occurs where the only people who can hold a leader accountable have such a close relationship with them or are so dependent on the continuing success of leader and organisation for their own reputation and livelihood that they can no longer offer independent insight or effective challenge. (17) It can also occur where a clever and determined abuser is able to manipulate those who are supposed to be supervising them. (18) One question which must be taken seriously is whether women’s voices are listened to and whether women are part of the decision-making process when allegations of abuse are raised. If women are silenced or sidelined, this is an open field for abusers to thrive.

“Human beings usually tend to prefer to avoid conflict and to protect their friends, communities and institutions.”

Accountability capture can only be overcome when those who have the power to hold a leader to account are willing and able to do the costly right thing of exercising that power, even if the short-term cost of doing so is to strain or even break the relationship with the leader who has come to assume that their power is unquestioned. When abuse may be occurring, either those who have the power to stop it pay the price of intervening or those who are the victims pay the far greater price of it continuing.

The risk of accountability capture and of abuse by leaders being covered up is greater if we have the wrong expectations about what a successful ministry looks like. It is all too easy to measure missional success by tangible factors such as numbers of congregants and supporters, size of donations and the quantity of events and publicity being generated. It is all too easy to forget that by those measures, Jesus’s public ministry was a failure (see, e.g. John 6:66).

Wrong priorities

Abusers exploit power and trust. Many abusers are successful and charismatic figures. The fact that they get results and that they have made themselves seemingly indispensable gives institutions an incentive to tolerate their ‘foibles’. Their ability to charm is an essential part of maintaining their status and winning the trust of their superiors, peers, victims and those who are taking decisions on behalf of their victims. (19) The contradiction between the abuser’s actions and their reputation causes victims and those to whom allegations are reported to experience confusion, cognitive dissonance and even incredulity. (20) Abusers also benefit from the trust they have accumulated with their peers, their superiors and wealthy donors. At its most basic, it is an instinct by those who have the means of control to give the abuser ‘the benefit of the doubt’, to treat accusations as a victim ‘misreading the signals’ or there being ‘crossed wires’, and to make excuses for or to minimise the abuser’s behaviour or its impact.

Human beings usually tend to prefer to avoid conflict and to protect their friends, communities and institutions. Leaders give a high priority to the reputation of their organisation and to its continued ability to attract support and funding. (21) Abusers depend on the desire of those around them to avoid the pain and the cost of calling out and confronting their behaviour. (22) An abuser will lose much, potentially everything, if they are exposed. They will lie, manipulate, threaten, isolate and play the victim card to defend their reputation and position. (23) Threats by abusers to sue for loss of employment and slander often loom larger in the minds of decision-makers than the harm caused to the victims. (24) For institutions, the temptation to ‘have a quiet word’, move someone on to a new position without telling anyone the dangers the abuser poses, or to reach a confidential settlement are especially powerful. In trauma studies, the abusers’ strategies are summarised by the acronym DARVO: the abuser Denies anything is wrong, Attacks the challenger, Reverses Victim and Offender. (25) Rachael Denhollander’s What Is A Girl Worth? gives a harrowing account of how communities, faced with the unthinkable, can succumb to these strategies. When unbelievably horrible abuse occurs, its victims are too frequently disbelieved. (26)

It is too easy to focus on attempting to preserve the reputation of the organisation. It is too easy to justify overlooking the signs of abuse, choosing not to go looking for truth, or turning a blind eye, because of the good the ministry is doing. It is too easy to encourage the abuser to move on to another church or organisation with a neutral or even a good reference. It is too easy to justify one’s (in)actions by a chain of reasoning that if the truth comes out, there will be collateral damage when supporters withdraw, jobs are placed at risk and what is seen as ‘vital ministry’ is adversely affected. Such reactions betray the gospel and our witness to Christ. (27) They ignore the fact that ‘Jesus Christ did not die for our systems; he died for broken human beings who he longs to make whole so they bear his likeness.’ (28) Those who commit evil deeds love to do so in the darkness (John 3:19). It is the devil who is the father of lies (John 8:44).

“We need to de-centre ourselves, to think more about the victims than about consequences that addressing the allegations properly will cost us.”

Even silence in the face of abuse is not neutral, it is complicity with the offenders and at best indifference towards the victims. (29) To remain silent in the face of possible abuse is to become an enabler. (30) In order to overcome the incentives to remain silent, we need to learn to share God’s heart for ‘the least of these’ (Matthew 25:40), to emulate Jesus, in his concern for children, women, the naked, the vulnerable, the oppressed and those whose life histories made victim-blaming easy and who were ignored or despised by the establishment. We need to inform ourselves about the evidence and impact of abuse. We also need to remember God’s condemnation of those who have haughty eyes and proud hearts. (31) Perhaps most importantly, we need to de-centre ourselves, to think more about the victims than about the additional work, stress, damaged relationships, and other immediate consequences that addressing the allegations properly will cost us.

In order to protect victims, those presented with accusations of abuse against another need not only the theological virtues of faith, hope and love (1 Corinthians 13:13) but also the cardinal virtues of justice, temperance, prudence and courage. (32) They will need training on the impact of trauma or to refer victims immediately to someone who has that training. They will also need practical strategies and clear procedures for investigating, decision-making and reporting.

A wrong reading of biblical stories

Christians don’t need to be told the power of stories. We do, however, need to reconsider how we have read key stories in the Bible. I cannot ever remember hearing a sermon about why abuse happens, how to spot it, where to report it or what to do about it. By contrast, I heard about the wrongful accusations made by Potiphar’s wife against Joseph. The story is often told in a way that has been extremely damaging to the victims of abuse: the [insert pejorative adjective of choice] woman who makes the false accusation. A moment’s reflection reveals how different the situation was from that in which most abuse by powerful men takes place. Unusually, Potiphar’s wife was the one in the position of power; she had the money, the connections, the social standing. Joseph was a foreigner and a slave. He was the one who was vulnerable, isolated and liable to be mistrusted.

Hiding in plain sight, David is, when we read the story of Bathsheba with open eyes, an abuser. By 2 Samuel 11, David is secure in his position as king, surrounded by loyal supporters and able to delegate the conduct of a war to his generals. From the top of the palace, he becomes a voyeur, obsessed with the woman he sees bathing (v.2). He summons her to him and sleeps with her. Given that she was married to someone else, had had no prior contact with King David, and was probably much younger than him, (33) the overwhelming inference must be that she had no real choice in the matter. (34)

The first time Bathsheba is given voice in the narrative is when she informs David that, as a result of him forcing himself upon her, she has become pregnant (v.5). David’s reaction to Bathsheba’s news was to plan how to hide his actions. When his attempts to get Bathsheba’s husband, Uriah, to sleep with his wife fail (v.8), David doubles down by arranging for him to be murdered (vv.14–15). King David’s loyal associates become complicit in the cover-up.

David’s abusive behaviour amounted to contempt for the Lord (2 Samuel 11:27; 2 Samuel 12:14). God sent Nathan the prophet who used a story to cut through the self-deception and self-justification abusers apply to normalise their actions. The consequence of King David’s abuse is violent relational dysfunction and the complete collapse of his moral authority (2 Samuel 12:10–12). His example of seizing the woman he wanted is copied by his son, Amnon, who rapes his half-sister Tamar (2 Samuel 13:14). Paralysed by his own shame, David is impotent in his anger (2 Samuel 13:21). Much of the remainder of the book of 2 Samuel is a description of how the consequences of David’s actions play out.

The story of David in 2 Samuel shows the capacity of power, privilege, and comfort to corrupt even those who appear to have a good character. It shows the sad reality that even if abuse is addressed, lasting harm to individuals and communities may have been done. The story also reveals two other important lessons. The first is that, even though it was possible for David to be forgiven by God, God was (and still is) unequivocally on the side of the victims of abuse. It is against David that God’s anger is directed. The second is that God desires that abuse is called out for what it is, that the shameful deeds done in secret are exposed to the light.

“A holy Church will share God’s heart for the victims of abuse and have a zero-tolerance policy for abuse.”

As the stories of Joseph and David show, if we open our eyes, abuse of power is a reality which the Bible repeatedly addresses. In Exodus, the Israelites in Egypt find themselves enslaved and facing genocide. The men of Sodom organise gang rapes (Genesis 19:4–9). The book of Judges describes a catalogue of abuses including one of the gang rape and manslaughter, if not murder, of a Levite’s concubine (Judges 19). The Levite goes to extreme lengths to publicise the attack. Judges 19:30 says: ‘Everyone who saw it was saying to one another, “Such a thing has never been seen or done, not since the day the Israelites came up out of Egypt. Just imagine! We must do something! So speak up.”’ What happens in Judges happens among God’s people because there is no accountability (Judges 21:25).

Christians need to face up to the pervasive reality of abuse. According to Rape Crisis, one in six children have been sexually abused and one in four women have been raped or sexually assaulted. (35) We need also to recognise that the Bible shows us a God who is aware of that reality, who hates the damage it causes and who longs for God’s people to be different. Even more than telling the right stories, we need to model the right actions. A holy Church will share God’s heart for the victims of abuse and have a zero-tolerance policy for abuse.

A wrong approach to sin and crime

Protestant theology rejects the Catholic distinction, drawn from 1 John 5:16–17, between venial sins and mortal sins. It rightly emphasises that ‘all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God’ (Romans 3:23). But although all sinful actions, words and thoughts fall short of God’s absolute standards (Isaiah 64:6), in relative terms some sins are more serious than others. Some sins involve greater mistreatment of other people. This reality is reflected in Old Testament law. (36) Two of the factors which shape the seriousness of a breach of the Old Testament law are the disruption to orderly relationships within a community or in the community’s relationship to God (see, for example, Leviticus 20; 24:13–16, where this factor is prominent), and the degree of harm caused to others (Exodus 21:22–27; Leviticus 24:17–22). (37)

Reading the New Testament material on dispute resolution in the light of those two factors, we can then see how different kinds of wrongdoing are to be addressed. When the sin has not caused a breakdown in relationship or harm which demands a public response, it can be addressed through a staged process of private rebuke and attempted reconciliation, followed by mediation, and then public judgement by the church (Matthew 18:15–17). This is the process Paul seems to have in mind in 1 Corinthians 6:1–6.

Some kinds of sin involve such harm or such abuse of disparate power that the staged process in Matthew 18 is inappropriate. When someone within the Church has taken advantage of their power or position, then a public response is required, by the Church and also by the public authorities if a crime has been committed. Within the Church, leaders who commit such sins are to be rebuked publicly ‘so that the others may take warning’ (1 Timothy 5:20). Addressing serious wrongdoing publicly sets the tone that it will not be allowed. (38) Failing to investigate or to confront scandalous behaviour sends the message that it will be tolerated. (39)

Another danger with a theology which fails to distinguish between the severity of different sins is that abusers and victims are treated as being on a par. (40) There is theological controversy around the extent to which it is proper to speak of God having a preference for the poor. There should be no such debate about whether God is on the side of the victims of abuse. In Matthew 18:6, Mark 9:42 and Luke 17:2, Jesus says that ‘If anyone causes one of these little ones … to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung round their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.’ Ezekiel is crystal clear about where God stands when it comes to abusers and their victims: ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: I am against the shepherds and will hold them accountable for my flock. I will remove them from tending the flock … I will rescue my flock from their mouths, and it will no longer be food for them.’ (Ezekiel 34:9–10).

We also need to take more seriously in our theology the role of the public authorities. Many churches have abandoned the Reformation emphasis on church discipline. Such churches now operate in a therapeutic rather than a judicial paradigm. As communities, we need both correction and healing. Regardless of the extent to which discipline is exercised within a church context. God has ordained secular authorities to deal with wrongs that require a public response. Paul in Romans 13:4 does not hesitate to describe the corrupt Roman authorities as ‘God’s servants, agents of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer’; prosecution of sexual and physical assault and harassment as crimes is a proper exercise of this authority. The trustees of the Iwerne Trust and others in the Church of England made major errors of judgement when, even when they had identified that John Smyth QC’s actions included criminal offences, they failed to respond in a victim-centred way. At least in cases when victims want a criminal investigation, the matter should be handed over to the police. (41)

“While love sometimes requires us to treat people more than justly, love never requires us to treat people less than justly.”

A wrong view of the relationship between love and justice

In the twentieth century, Protestant theologies had a hard time integrating love and justice. The starkest opposition was that advanced by the Lutheran Bishop Anders Nygren who, in Agape and Eros – A Study of the Christian Idea of Love, published in Swedish in the 1930s and in English in 1953, argued that the Old Testament revealed a God of law and justice and the New Testament the God of love not law. (42) But theologies of ‘cheap grace’ have led to the widespread view that justice is dispensable or unimportant for those who are seeking to live by the commands to love. This is compounded by teachings on repentance and forgiveness or which explicitly or implicitly suggest that forgiveness from God can be divorced from efforts to make amends to those we have wronged.

The teaching of the Bible on these matters is clear. The way in which we demonstrate that we love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength is by loving our neighbours as ourselves. (43) The Greek word dikaiosune combines the vertical dimension of right relationship, which is the primary referent for the English word righteousness, and the horizontal dimension of right relationship with others, which in English is called justice.

In the nineteenth century, George MacDonald wrote that: ‘Man is not made for justice from his fellow, but for love, which is greater than justice, and by including supersedes justice. Justice to be justice must be much more than justice. Love is the law of our condition, without which we can no more render justice than a man can keep a straight line, walking in the dark.’ (44)

In the twenty-first century, Nicholas Wolterstorff has reminded us of the corollary, that ‘While love sometimes requires us to treat people more than justly, love never requires us to treat people less than justly.’ (45)

Loving victims and loving abusers means naming abuse for what it is, identifying it and condemning it. There is no way round this: there must be a reckoning, a moment of truth. There is no justice without judgement, there is no peace without judgement, and there is no repentance without judgement. (46) Some degree of reconciliation and restoration may be appropriate in certain cases but only if the abuse has been unequivocally condemned. Any rush to reconciliation without condemnation compounds the trauma, and pressure put on victims to ‘forgive’ before they are ready to do so reinforces the message of powerlessness the offender had relied on to abuse the victim in the first place. (47)

Repentance involves, where appropriate, making amends to others. (48) A clear example of this is Zacchaeus, whose conversion encompasses making restitution to those he had cheated (Luke 19:8). An important, but often disregarded, part of Jesus’ teaching on the Sermon on the Mount is that ‘if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, … go and be reconciled with them; then come and offer your gift.’ (Matthew 5:23–24).

Nonetheless, as Rachael Denhollander told Larry Nassar and the world at his sentencing hearing: ‘forgiveness does not come by doing good things, as if good deeds can erase what you have done. It comes from repentance, which requires facing and acknowledging the truth about what you have done in all of its utter depravity and horror. Without mitigation. Without excuse.’ (49) Alcoholics Anonymous requires all the members to acknowledge publicly that they are alcoholics; in the same way, abusers need, for their own sake and for the sake of all those with whom they will come into contact in future, to face their own guilt and their victims’ suffering honestly, squarely, and fully.

Conclusions

Our churches have not been places where those who have spotted abuses of power feel encouraged or safe. Not only is too little done about abuses which are reported; too few reports of abuse are made in the first place. We have not spoken up ;and we have done too little when people have spoken up. (50) We need to repent of this.

In confronting abuse, the Church is constantly in need of reform. Leaders need to be held accountable. The vulnerable and the powerless need to be valued more than institutional or personal reputation and financial stability. The Bible’s frankness about the reality of abuse and God’s love and concern for victims needs to be proclaimed and needs to be modelled.

We need courage to love victims and to confront abusers; perseverance in the long, slow and often only partially complete work of bringing abusers to justice and helping victims to become survivors; and wisdom, faith and hope in the God whose Son died on the cross not only for the sins we have committed but also in solidarity with all those who have been rendered powerless, silenced and violated.

“The Bible’s frankness about the reality of abuse and God’s love and concern for victims needs to be proclaimed and needs to be modelled.”

In order to respond effectively to abuse, our churches need to be places which do not appoint leaders unless those leaders have demonstrated a willingness to be held to account and to hold other leaders to account. We need models which allow for repentance and forgiveness of abusers who have genuinely repented but which distinguish clearly between restoration of communion and continuing fitness for office.

We need to learn to be vigilant to watch out for signs of abuse, and to be prepared to listen to victims, to stand alongside victims and to take action on behalf of victims. We need to put in place and constantly attend to systems which reinforce accountability.

We need to make sure that the people – especially the weak, the powerless and the vulnerable, within our parishes, churches and organisations – are the ones being served rather than their interests being sacrificed to the institution. We need to read the Bible with open eyes, learning and teaching what power looks like when it is being exercised in Christlike ways and what power looks like when it is being abused. We need to develop a theology of lament, consolation and recovery for the victims of abuse and for the congregations in which abuse has occurred. (51)

We need to have a clear idea of which sins require public rebuke and of which actions amount to crimes which must be reported to the public authorities. We need to be committed to the pursuit of justice, peace and repentance by insisting that the truth be told and that the victims be vindicated. Finally, we need to be prepared to count the cost of challenging possible abuse instead of taking the easy option of inaction or complicity.

Paul warned the Corinthians that no ministry, no matter how charismatic, was worth anything unless it demonstrated love. Love which protects victims will, for their sake and in name of Jesus Christ, stand up to abusers. It will not cover up evil but will bring the truth to light (1 Corinthians 13:6). It will always protect victims; always trust God’s truth rather than the lies of abusers; always hope for justice, repentance and forgiveness; and always persevere in the hard work of making sure that the Church is a place where victims find protection and space to recover and where abusers are forced to face up to the truth about themselves (1 Corinthians 13:7).

If you have been affected by the issues raised in this paper, please consider contacting a counsellor or the following organisation: Restored – https://www.restored-uk.org/about.