A further frank discussion of how we Christians often deal with public scandal
In my previous post, I wrote about the Southern Baptist Church sex abuse scandal that was revealed a few weeks ago, and how it inspired me to consider the way that Christians (including myself) react when the cracks in the system show up like this. Here are excuses three and four.
3. We Don't Have a ___ Issue, We Have a Heart Issue.
This is the idea that people only exist as individuals, and that any problems within a denomination— even a widespread problem defended by people in power— is simply a matter of hearts.
This is very closely related to the "All Have Sinned" excuse from Part One, but it takes a different angle: the sex offenders on this list are all terrible people who should be removed from office and punished… however, trying to address their harm in a structural way is useless because structures don't hurt people, people do. (This excuse is also often aired after an incident of police brutality or a mass shooting.) Nothing can be done except the individual transformation of people's hearts, which only God can do.
(I find it interesting that most people who use this argument definitely do believe in corrupt power structures, as evidenced by their determination to, say, vote against the Democratic party and pass laws that change or uphold structures such as abortion access, marriage, and education. They will vote against a Democrat who has never performed an abortion because the politician upholds structures that allow for this procedure to take place; with each vote like this, Christians are proving that they do believe structures can be good or bad, helpful or unhelpful, righteous or evil.)
Again, there is some nuance here— acknowledging individual culpability is important, for sure. The problem is using this either/or thinking to rule out systemic causes, especially as a way to avoid the difficult and uncomfortable work of questioning the status quo.
In the case of the SBC abuse scandal, instead of just looking at it through the lens of "the abusers are bad people"— which is a valid lens, but incomplete— we might ask, "What structures within the denomination allowed so many abusive people to get in power in the first place, and stay there? What is it about the power structures of the denomination that insisted on covering up the abuse rather than revealing it? What kinds of theology or church culture encouraged secrecy, cover-ups, and silencing victims? How can the church avoid these structures and theologies in the future?"
Questions like this push us toward real change (repentance), rather than writing off problems as individual "matters of heart."
4. No True Scotsman (AKA "#NotAllChurches").
The No True Scotsman is a well-known logical fallacy in which the speaker determines what "true" people of a particular group do, contrary to any external evidence. (The Wikipedia page has a simple example. Person 1: "No true Scotsman puts sugar on his porridge." Person 2: "But my uncle does, and he's Scottish." Person 1: "No, that means he's not a true Scotsman.")
This has been, by far, my go-to favorite fallacy in dealing with the harm that the Church has caused. Learning Church history, from the Crusaders and Inquisitors and Conquistadors to the Ku Klux Klan and people holding signs saying "God hates ****," is a deeply disturbing experience. Who wouldn't want to distance themselves from that? Thank God that they weren't Real Christians™!
It's really reassuring to simply exclude anyone who makes you uncomfortable, and to not feel at all responsible for or connected to their actions.
One of the things that jarred me out of this mindset was reading a memoir by a woman who grew up in Westboro Baptist Church. I read it eager to understand this extreme fringe cult, to try to figure out what kind of wacko theology they were using to churn out such hatred.
Turns out, it was standard evangelical theology.
Sure, they took it one (and sometimes two) steps further than an average white evangelical would, but I recognized the hermeneutics as ones I had been taught, and I followed their theology effortlessly, to my horror. It really shook me up, and was part of my process of learning to stop dismissing things as #NotAllChurches.
While I'm not personally responsible for everything the Church has ever done, I don't get to pretend as if that harm is caused by some alien religion, or that the people who perpetuate those harms are somehow "not real Christians" even as they wreak havoc in the name of Jesus and with the unassailable armor of their theological conviction.
I have inflicted damage by telling people hurt by the Church that their pain didn't count because the people "weren't real Christians." That is not the call I get to make for anyone. It's dismissive, hurtful, and self-deluding, and until we own up to the damage we have caused people and the world, we will never truly be able to exist with integrity.
What now? Some Thoughts
So, if we remove the crutches of deflection, minimizing the severity of the harm, ignoring the role of systems, or claiming that those people aren't "real" Christians, what are we left with? Good old-fashioned repentance. Different from "feeling bad," repentance is a turning away from what is harmful and actively heading toward what is healing.
When a theology is causing damage to people, we can reexamine it.
We can honestly listen to the hurt that Christians have caused, whether that's something very recent or something in the past that still reverberates. We can seek to understand and, importantly, to make reparations when possible.
We can demand transparency and investigations into our own groups/churches/denominations. The abuse scandal wouldn't have come to light without the tireless efforts of people demanding to be heard, demanding justice.
We can reflect on how certain power structures and theologies contribute to abuse and silence. We can look for patterns, and call them out.
We can stop glorifying and defending Christians who have caused harm.
We can stop pretending that the greatest threats to the Church are from the outside, and start focusing on all the shit on the inside.
Being defensive is only human, but taking responsibility for the religion we've been given is crucial, especially in moments of public scandal. We must set aside pride, ego, and excuses, and try to be as honest as we can.
~~~
No comments:
Post a Comment