Evangelical Churches' Reckoning May Be At Hand

Evangelical churches have long denied that they suffer from a sexual abuse crisis similar to that which has consumed the Catholic Church all across the globe.  That's not to say there isn't a rampant sexual abuse problem in evangelical churches.  Rather due to the decentralized structure of these churches - the Southern Baptist Convention is a prime example - central accountability is harder to establish and and many leaders disingenuously plead ignorance.  Then too, there is the repeated problem of church leaders rallying members to support the abuser and condemn the victim.  Indeed, demanding accountability becomes labeled as an attack on god and the church.  Often, the victims and their families become outcasts.  In my view, the problem is three fold: (i) an abuse of power by pastors and other church leaders, (ii) an absurd 12th century dogma on sexuality (that is stridently homophobic) inherited from the Catholic Church, and (iii) churches offering a haven where the sexually maladjusted can hide.  The end result is institutions that put their own prosperity and reputations over the lives of their members.  A lengthy piece in the New York Times looks at one abuse case - at least 700 victims were identified in an a recent investigation by The Houston Chronicle and The San Antonio Express-News - that demonstrates that the Catholic hierarchy is not alone in caring nothing for victims of abuse.  Here are article highlights: 

HURST, Tex. — Christi Bragg listened in disbelief. It was a Sunday in February, and her popular evangelical pastor, Matt Chandler, was preaching on the evil of leaders who sexually abuse those they are called to protect. But at the Village Church, he assured his listeners, victims of assault would be heard, and healed: “We see you.” Ms. Bragg nearly vomited. She stood up and walked out.

Exactly one year before that day, on Feb. 17, 2018, Ms. Bragg and her husband, Matt, reported to the Village that their daughter, at about age 11, had been sexually abused at the church’s summer camp for children. Since then, Matthew Tonne, who was the church’s associate children’s minister, had been investigated by the police, indicted and arrested on charges of sexually molesting Ms. Bragg’s daughter.

Ms. Bragg waited for church leaders to explain what had happened and thoroughly inform other families in the congregation. She waited for the Village to take responsibility and apologize. She waited to have even one conversation with Mr. Chandler, a leader she had long admired. Evangelical churches have long distanced themselves from the sexual abuse crisis that has consumed the Catholic Church. Many Southern Baptists have dismissed sexual abuse as a problem caused by “corrupt Hollywood” or “liberal theology.” But a reckoning has arrived.

Nearly 400 Southern Baptist leaders, from youth pastors to top ministers, have pleaded guilty or were convicted of sex crimes against more than 700 victims since 1998, according to a recent investigation by The Houston Chronicle and The San Antonio Express-News. Superstar pastors like Bill Hybels and Andy Savage have been forced to resign over allegations of misconduct.

After years of resisting reform, the Southern Baptist Convention, the largest Protestant denomination in the United States, promised that it would address the problem this week at its annual gathering of thousands of pastors. At the Village, one of the most prominent Southern Baptist churches in the country and a bedrock of Texas evangelical culture, Ms. Bragg said leaders offered prayer. . . .  But as months passed, she came to believe their instinct to protect the institution outweighed their care for her daughter or their interest in investigating the truth.

For years she trusted that her church’s top leaders had acted in the best interest of the congregation, and that if she disagreed, the problem was hers. She had a spiritual reason: to doubt them was to doubt God.

The Village, like many other evangelical churches, uses a written membership agreement containing legal clauses that protect the institution. The Village’s agreement forbids members from suing the church, and instead requires mediation and then binding arbitration, legal processes that often happen in secret.

The Village also uses an abuse prevention firm called MinistrySafe, which many evangelical churches cite as an accountability safeguard. Ms. Bragg assumed MinistrySafe would advocate for her daughter, but then she learned that the group’s leaders were the church’s legal advisers.

The Village permanently removed Mr. Tonne from the staff within weeks of learning his name from the Braggs. To this day, the Village denies he was fired because of a sexual abuse allegation.

The Village declined to answer a list of detailed questions about the matter from The New York Times, and Mr. Chandler declined multiple requests to be interviewed. The Village said that the church “promptly” met with the Braggs, provided outside professional counselors and received the Braggs’ signoff on all of their public communications “in an effort for honesty, transparency and to avoid any embarrassment or concern.”

But the Braggs, along with several of their friends, see things differently. They have now left the Village, worried that raising their children in an environment where her family was not supported was, in Ms. Bragg’s words, “spiritually abusive.” “No one was looking out for our daughter’s best interest,” she said, speaking publicly for the first time. “She matters. Jesus says she matters. We say she matters.”

They signed the church’s Membership Covenant, an agreement stating they would submit to the Bible and to the authority and spiritual discipline of church leaders. Members promise to “practice complete chastity” unless in a heterosexual marriage, to “refrain from illegal drug use, drunkenness, gossip,” and to “diligently strive for unity and peace within the church.” Leaders promise “to lovingly exercise discipline when necessary.”

Mr. Chandler has become a brand name in American evangelicalism, with a large national following. Many young people see his faith as authentic, even cool.

With more than 10,000 weekly attendees, the Village now has five campuses across the Dallas area. Mr. Chandler is raising money to build a new campus that is likely to cost more than $70 million. The Village has entered “kind of a golden era,” he said recently.

A sexual abuse survivor herself, Ms. Bragg realized her worst nightmare had come true. Suddenly so many troubles in her daughter’s life made sense. The recurring nightmares. The night she decided not to kill herself so her sisters wouldn’t find her dead. The hours of counseling and medical treatments. Unable to wait any longer to hear from church leaders, Ms. Bragg asked for a meeting with them. The first opportunity, the church said, would be several weeks away, three months after the family reported the incident.

At the meeting, none of the church’s top three pastors were present. Ms. Bragg and her husband brought a list of 15 questions, asking about church policies and the camp. They received no clear answers.

Ms. Bragg raised the possibility that the perpetrator could have been someone from the Village. That was impossible, she recalled being told by Doug Stanley, a senior director at the church, because leaders followed the church’s moral code, enshrined in the membership covenant.

She turned to her husband as they walked out. “Thank God” for the police detective assigned to the case, she said. “If we were relying on our church to give us information, we’d be leaving empty-handed.”

On its website, the Village currently cites its work with MinistrySafe as evidence that the church is “a safe place for children and victims.” . . . . Unknown to Ms. Bragg, Ms. Norris and her husband are attorneys, and they have an associated legal practice to manage crises and minimize risk for clients. MinistrySafe’s website offers legal consultation, and those services are provided through Ms. Norris’ law firm, Love & Norris.

MinistrySafe may address legal risks for churches, but it does not help promote greater transparency as part of its response to abuse, said David Pittman, a survivor.  “Christians want to believe that everything the church does for them is for their safety and salvation,” he said. “That simply isn’t true, not right now.”

“What we encountered Wednesday was a church that has made a conscious choice to protect itself rather than reflect the Jesus it claims to follow,” she wrote to the pastor of her church campus in Southlake.  “It’s a terribly sad joke,” she went on. “We followed the rules. We followed the bylaws.

The Southern Baptist Convention has no explicit procedure or enforcement mechanism to respond to an abuse allegation when it arises in one of the denomination’s churches, each of which is autonomous. The S.B.C. has resisted calls for reforms for years, but addressing the issue of sexual abuse will be a major focus this week at the convention’s annual meeting in Birmingham, Ala. All Ms. Bragg said she wanted was a church home that will care for her family. Evangelicals in Dallas are enamored with the Village, with Mr. Chandler, and all the church represents, she said recently. She started to cry.

“It is your word against these people,” she said. “Where could we come in and say, ‘This is what we have experienced,’ and have them actually honor that?”

Sadly, churches and church institutions are often NOT safe places for children and youths.