Throughout my career I was called by one of three titles. (I was called other things but that is irrelevant.)
“Doctor.” A rarely heard title, but I never corrected anyone using it. I’d earned it by hard work and sacrifice (mine and my family’s). Hearing it reminded me of an obligation my opportunity to study imposed. Borrowing words from the obituary of a 19th-century theologian, I realized I should strive to be “a scholar who never forgot he was a Christian, a Christian who never forgot he was a scholar.”
“Pastor.” A challenging title. It is daunting to try to shepherd (pastor is from the Latin for one who feeds or grazes the sheep) through teaching, encouraging, comforting, and sometimes correcting that part of God’s flock under your care.
“Reverend.” A frightening title, from the Latin for “one who is to be revered.” I knew I deserved no reverence, had achieved no special spiritual/moral status. Fortunately, my churches usually had enough God-appointed pedestal-topplers to dissuade me from succumbing to the temptation to think I merited the title.
Though I sincerely hope I never exploited this title, honesty forces me to admit some church leaders have. This, I believe, helps explain the abuse scandal in the Southern Baptist Convention.
Years ago, a distant cousin and her husband were exploited by an associate pastor at their rural church. I’ll call him “Elmer” (as in Gantry). Like many farmers, they maintained a storage tank of gasoline for their farm equipment. Elmer regularly visited them to say he needed his car's tank filled-up and he knew they would want to help him in doing God’s work. Of course, this wasn’t sexual abuse, but it was abuse, an example of manipulation by one perceived to merit reverence.
I don’t know what happened to Elmer, but one wonders if this abuse might have led to greater betrayals of trust.
Exploitation by church leaders began early. In 2 Timothy 3:6, Paul condemns false teachers who “make their way into households and captivate silly women, overwhelmed by their sins and swayed by all kinds of desires.” These seemed to be immature believers, ungrounded in the Faith. (Regrettably, John Calvin believed this verse suggests women are naturally more susceptible to error than men; nothing Paul says implies that.)
Although Paul doesn’t specify sexual abuse in this verse, less than a century later Irenaeus reported on a false teacher named Marcus: A woman taught by Marcus “… then makes the effort to reward Marcus, not only by the gift of her possessions (in which way he has collected a very large fortune), but also by yielding up to him her person, desiring in every way to be united to him, that she may become altogether one with him." (Cited by Wm. Barclay) We can find such women, often lonely and grateful for the attention Elmer has given them. If Elmers lived in the first century, we shouldn’t be surprised if they live in the twenty-first.
The target might be a single woman or a wife whose husband does not share her faith. If the target if a teenaged girl, she might be flattered by a revered (!) adult’s attention and enjoy feeling “special.” At the same time, if she reports being uncomfortable by his attention she might not be heard, being told she was imagining things; in extreme cases she might be told “Satan is planting those thoughts to make you doubt a good man.” (Not often in an SBC church but not unheard of.) Should she avoid being alone with Elmer, he will simply move on.
How could men who once made weighty pledges at an ordination service behave this way? It is beyond my province to say they are unconverted, like a modern Gilbert Tennent might say. That they are behaving in ways that belie their profession is certain.
Doubtless, alongside Elmers there are Arthurs (as in DimmesdaleThe Scarlet Letter). These Arthurs may be seeking relief from the loneliness sometimes associated with the job. Their behavior is still a betrayal of trust, but I like to think it is not an ongoing pattern. Yet, like Arthur they may refuse to confess and seek forgiveness. Perhaps, because of shame, perhaps because, like Arthur, they lived in a community disinclined to forgiveness. Nevertheless, such Arthurs, like the Elmers, he encouraged a cover-up.
How did the SBC cover-up succeed so long?
Our churches believe in forgiveness and restoration. At times this might be an appropriate response to moral failure (though to offer grace to an Elmer without mandating counselling is unwise). Elmers know how to take advantage of this graciousness, how to exploit the goodness of others. If feigning regret lets you escape consequences, it’s a small price to pay. Arthurs may repent and do better.
The SBC fosters intense loyalty in its pastors. Sometimes this promotes an ill-advised resistance to harming the denomination’s reputation. Moreover, there is sometimes a longstanding “old boy’s network” in some areas (pastors there even attended the same seminary) making fellow pastors disinclined to cause trouble for friends. Especially if those friends promise to do better.
The cover-up may reflect distorted priorities. Weeks before the convention, some leaders opined that the whole issue was a satanic plot to shift the convention’s focus from evangelism; they would have had the issue buried. These men forget that the church’s message will remain unheard if the church lacks integrity.
The denomination’s commitment to the hierarchical view of men and women sometimes (note, sometimes) leads to a fundamental disrespect for women. This may make it difficult for women to present themselves as the victims of abuse, especially since some men are inclined to think of women as naturally hysterical (a word reflecting that very prejudice). I don’t agree with those who believe hierarchicalism always leads to abuse, but it happens.
Without giving up that commitment, the convention seems to be trying to address the problem of sexual abuse. I hope it is a sincere and successful effort. In the end, I believe the number of abusive pastors in the convention is small. Most of our pastors are men who would never harm those in their care, men who sacrifice time that might properly belong to their families, men who earn less than others with the same level of education, men who seek to serve God.
As a Baptist, I am obliged to say all this is my opinion. Another Baptist might say something different.
As I finish, I occurs to me no one called me “A Man of Few Words.”
