This is the second part of a Cambridge Paper re-published with permission. Read the first part here. The full paper can be downloaded in full in pdf format here. It is the expression of a personal viewpoint by the author acting as an individual only and not as a representative of any church or organisation.

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 [1]. 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 [2]. 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.

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 [9] . 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.’ [10] 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). 

Even silence in the face of abuse is not neutral, it is complicity with the offenders and at best indifference towards the victims [11]. To remain silent in the face of possible abuse is to become an enabler [12]. 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 [13]. Perhaps most importantly, we need to decentre 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 [14]. 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.

[destacate]David’s abusive behaviour amounted to contempt for the Lord. God sent Nathan the prophet who used a story to cut through the self-deception and self-justification abusers apply to normalise their actions[/destacate]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 [15], the overwhelming inference must be that she had no real choice in the matter [16].

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 (vv.8–9), 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, 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.

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 [17]. 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.

David McIlroy, a practising barrister, Professor of Law at the University of Notre Dame (USA) in England, and a theologian.

Notes