Speaking Truth to Power

Postscript

2007-08-18T05:54:00.000-05:00

Friends,

A couple of things have come up.

First, I emailed the Faith Trust Institute to bring them up-to-date. To my surprise and sorrow, I learned that, due to budget challenges, they no longer have the capacity to do individual advocacy for victims. Because of this, I must retract my recommendation that victims of UU clergy misconduct contact them.

The question now becomes what to advise victims instead? Ultimately, I've learned that this question really is what's the least bad choice. There are no good choices.

Of course, the experience of being a victim varies. With the Faith Trust Institute no longer being an option, I'm more concerned about over-generalizing. Still, given the current realities, I doubt filing a formal complaint with the UUA is going to be the best choice for anyone. A few years ago, it was different, and it could change again, but it seems most unlikely that that will happen any time soon. If it does, I expect you will know. It will probably be accompanied by another apology on the order of the one issued at General Assembly 2000.

Assuming a formal complaint is not a viable option, then what can a victim do? I would suggest a series of things. First off, and I hate to say this, but be very cautious about whom you trust, particularly within your congregational and faith communities. Second, find the rape crisis center or domestic violence shelter nearest you. While hopefully it isn’t rape or domestic violence you have experienced, nonetheless they are likely to know the best resources to help you. For example, they can probably advise you on attorneys to contact.

Speaking of lawyers, this is a topic I've tiptoed around, because of not wanting to be adversarial. However, it’s a virtual certainty that you will need protection, particularly if you are going to do the responsible thing and let the association know that a particular minister has abused their position.

While it should not be that you are attacked and undermined, that’s really the whole point of this blog. The fact is that’s been the experience of every other victim of UU clergy misconduct whom I’ve known. The particulars have varied over the years, but that much is consistent. And for most of us, this subsequent reality has been much worse than the original abuse.

The other big impediment to hiring an attorney is the cost. But think of it as an investment in your happiness and quality of life. It’s as if your house burned down. Yes, insurance should pay everything, but no it won’t. And just because you are hiring an attorney doesn’t mean you are committing to suing anyone. You’re just doing a responsible job of exploring your least bad choices.

The second thing is that several of you have asked me not to take this blog down. It came as a big surprise to me. You really touched me, and I'm very grateful. If I’m hearing you correctly, you are saying to just shut the comments off and stop updating it, but leave it up.

While not wanting to be adversarial is my primary motivation, there are also some personal things that lead me towards taking it down. Some of this is private, but one of those things may be good to talk about a little more.

That’s how this work has again become a shackle for my heart (for lack of a better word). It certainly wasn’t when I began the blog. I wouldn’t have started it if I’d known this would happen.

These days I frequently recall one of the teachers (and a fellow survivor) at the Marie Fortune retreat I attended. She said with great passion, “Don’t let them steal your spiritual practice from you.” By “them” she meant not just the perpetrators, but also the system.

Dear readers, I feel a call to let go and watch the wild geese head home. I want to touch the starlight, laugh with friends, and do what I am good at. I will leave comments on for a few more days, then shut them off, and heed the call of my heart.

Farewell and Godspeed

2007-08-16T02:25:00.000-05:00

Dear Friends,

The time has come to take this blog down, and so I will be doing that in the next few days.

When I began it, I had thought that the problems at the UUA were less serious than in fact they are. I had hopes that things were turning a corner – that there was about to be dialog and progress on addressing clergy misconduct.

Unfortunately, almost every month I get more bad news. It puts me in a position where I can only be adversarial, and that was never my intent. I’m glad to help if those who have power want to listen, but I don’t want to fight.

If there’s one thing I hope you take away from this blog, it’s an understanding of how dangerous the current process is for those who have already been hurt by a UU minister. Please spread the word as you are able.

I wish it weren’t so, but for the foreseeable future, I would strongly recommend that victims of sexual misconduct not file a complaint with the UUA. Instead, I would suggest contacting the Rev. Marie Fortune’s Faith Trust Institute. [8/18 update: the Institute can no longer assist individuals. Please see the Postscript for more information.]

Finally, I wanted to say thank you to the many people who have been supportive of this blog, this very difficult work and me. I am grateful beyond words.

My life is a happy one. I’m very lucky and I know it. I pray that some day things will improve for other victims of UU clergy misconduct. And may all of you find wonderful, healthy congregations and ministers, and may your religious lives flourish.

Apologizing As a Good Business Strategy

2007-07-27T19:12:00.000-05:00

The Chief Happiness Officer has a wonderful article on the power of apology: A tale of two airlines - Or why every company needs a Chief Apology Officer

Wouldn't a Chief Apology Officer be a great position at the UUA? Not a fun job, of course, but what a ministry. I suspect they'd easily recoup their salary in grateful donations from those who feel heard, rather than disenfranchised. And if Southwest Airlines can do it, surely we can too?

I Must Answer Yes to Truth

2007-07-22T10:34:00.000-05:00

"I must answer, Yes, to truth." Those were words in our closing hymn this morning, echoed moments before in the sermon. I had to bolt for the door, as the waves of sadness hit me.

Don’t get me wrong. It was a wonderful service and sermon. Just very hard. It’s all context isn’t it?

I used to take this idea so earnestly – basically still do. But does the UUA? Or the MFC? When faced with a report of sexual abuse by one their ministers? The sad truth is, of course, that, No, they don’t.

Should UUA leaders read these words, I expect they will be offended. And I’m sorry for that. That's certainly not my intent. But that’s the thing with saying yes to truth, isn’t it? The truth isn’t always what we want to hear. I’m sadder than words can ever say that some in our ministry abuse their power so heinously. But I’m even sadder that those who have the courage to speak this truth are treated as badly as they are.

One other thing from today’s service... Did you know the reason adults finally started seeing Snuffleupagus on Sesame Street happened in the wake of a string of high profile stories about pedophilia? I had no idea. The writers were concerned that by having adults refuse to believe Big Bird, despite the fact that he was telling the truth, they were scaring children into thinking that their parents wouldn’t believe them if they had been sexually abused and that they'd be better off remaining silent.

Go Sesame Street! How I wish victims of UU clergy misconduct could speak. But we’re better off remaining silent. One happy thought: I guess this makes me Big Bird. And how I love Big Bird. But won’t you take me back to Sesame Street?

Today my heart aches

2007-07-16T08:30:00.000-05:00

I read the news yesterday about the Archdiocese of Los Angeles settling with victims. Yesterday I thought, "I should be happy for them." Even the headline noted what to me would be the most important -- more important than $660 million. An apology. So I should rejoice for them.

But this morning I turned on the TV and there was a woman just a little younger than me trying to talk to the press and crying. She was so clearly reliving bits and pieces of the horror. She was quite upset, and I was with her. I expect in some measure she is happy and relieved, but the cost is so unimaginably huge. If it were me, when facing the press I would be reliving the horror of not having been heard in the past. Why does it take lawyers and the press to be believed and listened to? What does this say about our religions? What does this say about us?

I bet that's it. That's usually it when I talk to others who have gone through this. UU, Catholic, Episcopalian, Buddhist, male, female, straight, gay, young, old. It doesn't matter. It's all the same. It's not being heard by leadership that is the worst -- much worse than the original horror. And then, the next day, I would feel so very trapped in that reality. That's what breaking the silence does. It traps you there, paralyzing the other parts of your life. I pray for her sake and all the others courageous enough to speak their truth that now they may truly and completely lay this burden down. I pray that the burden will now and forevermore be shouldered by those with power.

And I pray that our faith knows and understands that there, but for the grace of God or sheer dumb luck, go we. Our procedures are in shambles and our leadership does not listen to victims. Just read the policies. It's quite clear whom they listen to. It probably isn't malicious, but it doesn't matter. In a way, that makes it even more devastating. You can bet if the press ever talked to me (please God no), that I would cry my way through talking about UUs hating me for simply speaking the truth -- about how it damaged my life, my family's life, my children's lives and my congregation's life.

Bear in mind I'm part of a success story. I won, my family and congregation are thriving, and still, I sit here aching to my core. It's because of how more recent victims of UU misconduct have been treated. Our leadership is no longer listening.

So I also pray for UU humility. I pray that our leadership has the grace not to feel, much less act, superior to the Catholic leadership. In my most hopeful moments, I hope they connect the dots and realize that Cardinal Mahoney is their face. And the woman crying? She's the face of all congregations damaged by misconduct.

How Can You Help?

2007-06-17T08:41:00.000-05:00

Clergy sexual misconduct is a travesty. There's no question about that. It's also found in all faiths, including ours. So why is it so poorly addressed by Unitarian Universalists? Why is it allowed to devastate congregations like mine? Why do the problems, now known, not get fixed? In a word, it’s the “bystander.” There’s a very good chance I mean people like you. To quote Judith Lewis Herman:

"It is very tempting to take the side of the perpetrator. All the perpetrator asks is that the bystander do nothing. He appeals to the universal desire to see, hear, and speak no evil. The victim, on the contrary, asks the bystander to share the burden of the pain. The victim demands action, engagement, and remembering. . . ."

This bystander non-engagement trickles up, ultimately, in the case of Unitarian Universalism, to our Board. Addressing clergy misconduct is not a priority for the Board. There are some good people on the board who get it, and would be happy to spearhead fixing the system, but they don’t have the support of the rest of the Board.

If the system is going to be fixed, the Board needs to get the right people to the table and rewrite the policies. Then the Board needs to hold those charged with the responsibility accountable. Otherwise we’re trapped in an endless loop of: (1) task forces write excellent reports with great ideas of how to fix the problems; (2) we start down the right track; (3) the initiative gets lost to other priorities determined by people not on the Board who don't necessarily understand misconduct; (4) victims and congregations are hit by more clergy misconduct and suffer terribly; (5) they try to speak up, but are marginalized; (6) if they are heard at all, a task force is formed and the cycle goes on. The time for powerless task forces is past. The time for making the victims hold the brunt of the responsibility should never have been.

So here is what you can do....

Contact your Board member and anyone else you know on the Board. It's really quite easy. Just tell them this has to be a priority and ask them to check back with you in six months and let you know what's been done. Ask for concrete acts. Ask who they have put in charge and what their credentials are. Ask if they have gotten some victims to the table.

It doesn’t matter whether or not you’ve never been affected by clergy misconduct. If you haven’t already been, you could be, or worse, a beloved child of yours could be. It's not the silence of victims that sanctions perpetrators. It's everyone else's silence. So just do it. Tell the Board they need to make addressing misconduct a priority.

When the day comes that the Board claims overcoming misconduct as a priority, they won’t just be doing the right thing, they’ll be creating a healthier association. I’d be willing to bet our faith will start to grow if they (finally) do a good job of this. It’s good business to do the right thing.

Don’t Report Sexual Harassment

2007-06-14T19:19:00.000-05:00

Have you heard of Brazen Careerist: The New Rules for Success? I hadn’t until today. But I just ran across a book review and it mentioned some of Penelope Trunk’s advice: “They say report sexual harassment. I say don’t.”

Reading this was one of those moments for me – a domino effect happening in my head. It boils down to....

If you are a victim of UU clergy misconduct, don’t report it.

Of course, there’s more nuance than that, and a ton of information behind it. It’s not as if I’m saying this out of the blue. Hopefully, you’ve gotten a sense of that from reading this blog. If you have, you know I wouldn’t have said this six months ago. I’ve evolved to this point after interacting with both recent victims of UU misconduct and some of the people who have the power to change the way it’s handled. If you’ve read this blog, you also know I’m not casting blame.

I’m simply saying, don’t do it. “They say report. I say don’t.” I gather her premise is it’s not smart. That’s certainly my premise. There is a trail of tears, which, like the original trail, seems to matter to very few. But it matters to me, and it should matter to you if you are a victim. Chances are you’ve gone through hell. Don’t make it worse.

Think.... Whose problem is a misconducting UU minister really? The MFC’s? You bet. The UUMA’s? Absolutely. The UUA’s. Of course. The minister’s church? No question. The victim’s? Absolutely not.

To be clear, by “don’t report it,” I mostly mean don’t file a formal complaint. I don’t mean you shouldn’t tell anyone. It’s even okay in my opinion to tell the UUA, as long as you make it clear they do not have your permission to share your name or to consider you a complainant. Just do what feels safest. And be very careful. One good option is contacting Marie Fortune’s Institute. [8/18 update: the Institute can no longer assist individuals. Please see the Postscript for more information.]

If you’re like other victim/survivors I know, you’re worried the minister is going to hurt others the same way s/he hurt you. That was the biggest hook for me. And it’s a very real issue. People will tell you that if you don’t say something, then the powers-that-be can’t do anything. There’s merit to this argument. What it overlooks is that if you do say something, the powers-that-be still won’t do anything to take care of the real problem. Not now. In the past they tried to do the right thing, and came closer to succeeding. Instead as things currently stand, they will put you through an ill-defined and anything-but-transparent process and the case will appear to you to go into a black hole. To the best of my knowledge, it’s a universally horrific ordeal. You will be treated as if you are the problem, and your life (which is probably already quite difficult) will be made much more difficult by the UUA. In the end, you won't even know if or when it's resolved.

There are also the twin seductresses of ministry and justice. It’s quite normal to assume that, since this is a religious association and grievous damage has been done to you in its name, the response to you will be ministerial in some measure. Chances are that some of the individuals actually will treat you in a ministerial fashion. But it’s not part of the process and in the end doesn’t begin to balance out the harm done. In fact, it can be confusing. If X is ministerial toward you, but still lets Y happen, what does that mean about you, ministry, etc., etc. It’s a rocky course for a person whose trust in ministry has already been broken.

As for justice, clergy misconduct is not generally understood as a justice issue by the UUA. Its process therefore has nothing to do with it. At best, you will end up feeling cynical about UUA leaders. They talk wonderful justice talk, but in this area where you know what they could do, they fail to walk their talk.

What you are responsible for is your own life. I know it can be very hard – not unlike ending a marriage. I’ve had to walk away from church and faith at times, sometimes believing and accepting that it was forever. I’d invested much of my life into my church and the UUA, and it was anything but easy. But it was the smart thing to do.

One day, perhaps soon, there may come a time when it's all right to report clergy misconduct. But the UUA has a long way to go. They've lost a lot of ground in recent years. Just remember, though... that’s not my problem and it’s not yours either. Take good care of yourself. Read smart books, find another church, love those who love you, blog, play, write bad poetry, sing bawdy songs, climb Mt. Everest, whatever. Sometimes a life well lived is simply the best.

Acceptance and The Mountain

2007-05-20T11:00:00.000-05:00

The last few weeks I’ve noticed that some of the main triggers for me – things that send me back to the terrible memories associated with filing a complaint of misconduct – are, of all things, hymns. It’s not the melody; it’s the words and who wrote them. I yearn to be part of not just a whole and healthy church, but a whole and healthy faith – and I’ve been around long enough that I know (either directly or indirectly) quite a number of the authors in both of our hymn books.

Today it was a beautiful piece by Shelley Jackson Dunham. And today it was a good memory, though as is usually the case, good means bittersweet.

I strongly associate Shelley with The Mountain. When I think of The Mountain, I remember two things. The first is my initial visit there. It was maybe five years after the year from hell. My family basically dragged me there. I didn’t want to go, but I love my family and I went. I figured it would be beautiful, and it was. But what I hadn’t in my wildest dreams imagined was that I would feel accepted – by Unitarian Universalists. That was a time at my church when I wasn’t as totally marginalized as I had been, but I wasn't all that accepted either. I was in some grey area, and grey is how it felt.

One of the reasons I hadn’t wanted to go was figuring that the Mountain staff would know about what had happened, know about me, and accidentally-on-purpose shun me. That was the way things worked back then. Or maybe they wouldn’t know about my role, but I wouldn’t matter to them. As much as I thought about – which wasn’t a lot.

To my amazement, they were to a person kind, attentive and appropriate with everyone in my family, including me. Just to be that way with my family speaks volumes. We’re probably a typical UU family – too smart for our own good, highly opinionated, the younger ones edgy, the older ones sometimes cantankerous, scattered around the country, and many of us no longer UU. Larry Wheeler, in particular, took us all in with great good humor and grace.

The second memory that came to me in that instant of singing Shelley’s hymn was when I returned to The Mountain several years later for Leadership School. If you’re going to get anything out of Leadership School, you have to be who you are. I still didn’t know if The Mountain staff knew I was an infamous complainant, and as luck would have it, one of them, Robert E., was my small group leader.

I’m not a swearing sort, but as we were sent on our way to small group, I thought, “Oh s#*$&, I’m going to have to talk about the misconduct – with Robert E. The jig is up. Now the staff will know.” I couldn’t have been more wrong. For one thing, as I found out the last hour of that week-long amazing experience, Helen Bishop, the head of the school, knew about my history and had alerted the whole staff before any of us students ever arrived.

And everyone, Robert E., Helen and an amazing cast of others, were accepting of me. If you know Helen, you know accepting doesn’t mean molly-coddling. There were moments that week when I thought I’d never stop crying – and, really, I don’t cry that much about this stuff. But not that week. Especially towards the end. But everyone was fine with that. Some knew. Those who had to know did, and that was good. Some didn’t, and that was good too.

I’m particularly grateful not everyone knew, because that meant acceptance for who I really am. While I was a victim of misconduct, I struggle to minimize that reality as part of my identity. But I guess it will always be pretty close to the surface, if even hymns evoke it.

Two More Tools for Letting Go

2007-05-07T18:48:00.000-05:00

I think I found two more tools today in my quest for letting go of anger over the injustices of clergy misconduct. The first came over lunch today, with one of the officers of our church. We’re lucky to have this woman on the Board. She's knowledgeable, kind, hard-working and very experienced with the UUA. She wasn’t around during our worst years, yet she doesn’t say the thing many do: “I wasn’t there, so I can’t understand.” Instead, when it’s needed she jumps right in and tries to understand – and I think she does.

As our conversation unfolded, we both agreed strongly that it’s likely that one of the core problems with the UUA leadership right now is not understanding that a few of their colleagues have serious personality disorders. We sympathize with them for not getting this. Neither of us has a background in psychology. I’ve had to learn the hard way how different an abusive personality is. I didn’t understand what was going on nearly as quickly as the mental health professionals did. I was used to a model of people not being perfect, but basically decent. I was projecting myself on them. And that’s what we think many UU leaders are doing with clergy who have abused congregants. They think it was just a misstep – that the accused minister is basically decent. They project themselves on to their colleagues. Most of the time this would probably be just fine. But not with clergy who have sexually abused others and never repented it.

This is a thought I’ve had a lot in recent months, and generally as happened today, others agree. The difference is that today I realized I could recall this piece as a way to calm down and let go. It doesn't matter that I'm not certain that's what's going on. It's a reasonable hypothesis, gives me sympathy for them, and helps me let go.

The second came on the heels of this validation. Again I’ve known for a while that the anger is in fact a mask covering fear – that it’s a biologic response having to do with self-preservation. What I was missing is that the fear is well founded. My fear is that UUA leadership will harshly mistreat me again. This is, in fact, extremely likely.

I had a fifth grade teacher who called the adrenalin of fear “fight or flight juice.” As I keep saying – I want to walk away. That’s the flight. But things keep tugging me back – even as directly as people asking me to talk to UUA leaders – when I don’t want to fight. I don’t want the anger.

So here’s the second tool. I don’t have to engage any more with UUA leaders. If they come and ask respectfully, then talking with them probably would be worth the cost of the pain of remembering all of the degradation, isolation, and so forth. But that’s unlikely to happen and that’s okay. There’s the key; I'm okay with that. It’s not revenge. It’s not acceptance. It’s just letting go.

How Best to Forgive

2007-05-06T21:48:00.000-05:00

Lately I keep running into articles and posts about forgiveness. For the most part they have to do with minor grievances and petty annoyances – certainly nothing as serious as abuse. Nevertheless, I’ve found these writings helpful. If nothing else, they offer a different way to frame my response – which is a respite.

It’s a bit ironic, because back in the worst days, people would tell me in very black and white terms that either I must or I must not forgive the offending minister. There seemed to be no middle ground. Those who said I mustn’t believed he had to apologize first. Typically these were the people who supported and cared about victims. If I had to pick a side (if it really was so black and white), I would definitely pick theirs. Those who said I must forgive him invariably minimized the damage done, and had little or no understanding of possible misinterpretations. Essentially it made their lives easier.

Gradually I came to see that a personal, quiet forgiveness was possible. If you were to ask me if I forgave him and if I trusted you to understand, I would say yes, but that didn't mean I thought he was fit for ministry – that it was more like letting go.

Now, as I read these snippets on forgiveness, once again, I wonder what place it has in the picture? If I were to tell those who have recently hurt victims of clergy misconduct (including me) that I forgave them, they would think me presumptuous. As best I can tell, they don’t think they’ve done anything wrong. Since I don’t wish to appear (much less to be) presumptuous, this has the net effect, once again, of silencing me. So how do I do forgive now? I don’t have the answer yet. The closest I can come is letting go of the anger I feel as often as needed. I keep having to drag out that thing I learned a number of years ago. It doesn’t matter if the anger is righteous. I’m still the one most hurt by it.

On days like today – a Sunday, when church is more a part of my life – it seems as if I have to let go dozens of time. I see the author of a hymn I’m singing, recognize the name, and wonder, where is he on this issue now? I have to let go. Talk of GA is all around me, and I don’t feel safe going. I have to let go. I attend a meeting where talk of the MFC is central, and I have to let go. That was just today.

It’s interesting. The ones whose faces I know I have an easier time forgiving. The ones who are just names and harsh written words, I have to give them a pretend face. And then forgive. And let go.

The most helpful piece of all I ran into was about the Dalai Lama. "He also made a distinction between forgiveness and forgetting. Actual forgiveness means that you no longer keep any feeling of revenge. ‘Forgiveness does not mean you accept whatever has been done.’"

I don’t accept what has been done. But I certainly have no desire for revenge. I guess, therefore, I am in some measure succeeding at forgiveness. Now I just have to succeed at sleep. That too is much more possible without anger.

Is My Silence Just a Dogwood Winter?

2007-04-29T14:25:00.000-05:00

The trees and flowers are starting to recover from a nasty cold snap in our part of the world, and we had a lovely Flower Communion, honoring the difficulties of the past few weeks. To my amazement, the minister in some of her words honored this very blog. Typing this, I start to cry. It was so unexpected, and even though it was only for a second and something almost the entire congregation missed, that’s clearly what it was.

She said I ministered with this work. Can you believe it? I hardly can. These last few weeks I have withdrawn, struggling with how to deal with my anger over the way victims of UU clergy misconduct, including me, have been treated recently by those with power

The best solution seemed to be to walk away. Truly, that may still be the best solution. I don’t know. But for the first time since the worst blow of recent weeks, I am trying to be open to other possibilities.

I don’t know what that might look like. So let me talk instead about what I think the most serious problem is at the moment. I believe it is that the UUA’s leadership is profoundly ignorant about clergy misconduct.

I say profoundly because I observe that those who take the lead in this arena don’t realize just how little they understand. I don’t mean to be insulting. It’s just that the more I know of what’s happening at 25 Beacon St., the more obvious this is to me. And it’s more serious than simple ignorance. They not only make poor decisions and do great damage in the way they interact with victims, they have the potential to misinform others in leadership who are simply ignorant. I think, for example, of our moderator. As far as I know she doesn’t know much about misconduct and would be the first to tell you that. What is the MFC telling her? I wonder.

Victims of clergy misconduct are every bit as much the UUA as “they” are. In fact, I expect some of “them” are victims of sexual abuse, if not clergy misconduct. An even uglier possibility is that there are still a few perpetrators or those who have colluded with perpetrators in our leadership.

Every way I look at it I see people who haven’t and don’t deal well with clergy misconduct running the show. Of course, very few people do since there aren’t good mechanisms in place. It’s a bleak no-man’s land out there when it comes to recovering from misconduct. Unfortunately, “they” are the ones who have the power to change this landscape at the associational level. But how can they do it right if they repeatedly hurt those who know first-hand about the harm done? I can assure you I'm not eager to talk after having been hurt one too many times. And I know others who feel the same way. I suspect the fastest and easiest way out of this nasty mess is for them to quite simply say that they are sorry for the mistakes they have made. And to mean it. It comes back to apology.

I don’t know much about alcoholism and AA, but I suspect it’s like that. The first step is to accept the ugly truth. I’m almost certain it’s not what “they” fear – and there’s a good chance it’s not as bad as they fear. But by trying to blockade it, whatever the reasons and however they do it, “they” make it much worse.

I keep putting this third person talk in quotes because I’m so sad about the polarization that has happened. It should not be “us” the victims vs. “them” the leadership. I think we have the same goal – a healthy, flourishing ministry. But unfortunately that’s the framework “they” have set up. By undermining people like me, they divide us even further. Everyone loses, but our faith and the credibility of Unitarian Universalism lose most of all.

Is Conflict Really the Issue?

2007-04-11T19:44:00.000-05:00

Dan Harper recently blogged about conflict and the Alban Institute. (See A Word About Conflict.) This brings up a host of difficult memories for me. Because of the Alban Institute model, back in our worst days my congregation was told we had a Level 5 conflict. We were also told that Level 6 was war.

In retrospect, many in our congregation came to the conclusion that it was a misdiagnosis, doing more damage than good. It wasn't that we didn't have conflict. We did. And it wasn't that the Alban Institute model is bad. I expect it's very helpful when conflict really is the issue. It was more like telling someone with stomach cancer that the problem is the pain in his back. The "experts" missed the real problem. It was abuse of power.

Perhaps the Alban Institute has improved their model, or perhaps it was applied incorrectly with our congregation. I don't know. But I do know that when used with us, the model not only sidestepped the whole issue of clergy misconduct, it presumed relatively equal power.

In the end, what turned us around was having grief counselors. They came and talked with anyone in the congregation who wanted to talk to them. They put in hundreds of hours all told.

There was, as it turned out, tremendous pain experienced by many people, and that was what was behind the anger and seeming conflict. It wasn't just the victims that experienced this pain, and the pain wasn't all the same. I suppose if there was a recurring theme it was a loss of innocence -- coming to terms with learning that someone once deeply trusted was, in fact, not what he seemed. This in turn meant coming to terms with one's own imperfect judgment, and struggling to learn how to trust again. But we did it, and I hope others have learned from us.

Why Stay: Seeing Beyond Balance Sheets

2007-04-01T12:56:00.000-05:00

“Leading a life of spiritual integrity is not easy.”

Today’s was one of those sermons that cut to the bone. Perhaps it was because it was based in the Beatitudes. Or perhaps it’s because it was delivered from the heart, with great depth of spirit and thought. No matter what, it was the kind of Sunday that lets me know, despite it all, church is one of the three best things in my life.

Two of the takeaways....

First, the minister talked of the mental balance sheet he’d kept in a previous religious life. Bingo. That’s what I’m doing all the time when I consider UU clergy misconduct and how poorly our denomination handles it. I wish I could escape the two-dimensional viewpoint. The stakes are very high for me. Fortunately, unlike many others who have suffered from misconduct, the positive balance is significant. But that’s based on the local level. When the national level is weighed in, it’s not so good.

Second, the Beatitudes themselves offer solace. Simply the beauty of the words and the soul behind them might be enough. But when the minister spoke of mercy and forgiveness, it occurred to me perhaps this is the dimension beyond my balance sheet perspective? People often ask me if I’ve forgiven the perpetrator in my case. I usually find this question offensive, but more than that, it’s puzzling. I’m not sure what they mean. If they asked instead if I forgave those who bungled the case, it would be so much easier to answer. The answer is basically yes. I have to work at it – particularly of late, when the same mistakes are being repeated. But because I think the errors are caused more by ignorance than malice, even now it’s possible to forgive. Not easy. But possible. I suppose if I couldn’t, I wouldn’t be able to remain UU.

Responding to Ministry's Opposite

2007-03-22T10:45:00.000-05:00

"We are face to face with our destiny, and we must meet it with a high and resolute courage. For us is the life of action, of strenuous performance of duty; let us live in the harness, striving mightily; let us rather run the risk of wearing out than rusting out."

-- Theodore Roosevelt

I subscribe to the most delightful daily quote service -- Creative Idleness by Martha Carrer Cruz Gabriel, a Brazilian artist. This was today's quote, and it seemed related to where my thoughts have been about this blog.

I am wearing out, but I refuse to rust out. I was going at the blog full-speed, hope high, when I was blind-sided by an email from a UU minister. I had trusted this minister and told them about myself and my blog. It's hard to describe this email they sent. The best I can come up with is mean-spirited and inaccurate, attacking me because of the blog. If there were an antonym for ministry, that would be the best descriptor. I expect it came from fear, which devolved to anger. I don't think this person meant to be as hurtful as they were. I think they don't understand their power, especially with people like me.

Since that day (maybe six weeks ago), it has been much harder to write the blog. It's the only thing like it I've received, and I've gotten quite a bit of positive feedback, often from UU ministers. So I ask myself why has this had such an impact on me?

The answer is still not entirely clear to me, but I can tell you pieces. The biggest one I suspect is that it's a shortcut back to the bad-old-days. For me the worst wasn't what I filed the complaint about. It was the aftermath -- the way the minister reacted and the support he received, particularly from congregants and (here's the key piece) other ministers.

In my eyes, ministers lined up against me. Rank by rank they stood with whom? At that time, I didn't have any UU minister willing to stand with me, even though many knew that what he had done was wrong. He even had a Good Offices person -- official ministerial support -- or so it looked to me. About the best I had was silence, and silence is typically a vote in favor of a perpetrator.

Years later I found out that in fact some UU ministers were telling him that what he had done was wrong and that he should resign. But I didn't know that at the time. They certainly weren't telling me.

Fast forward to 2007. The minister who attacked me said they forwarded this hurtful email to various UU leaders. They didn't copy me when they did this, so I'm unclear exactly whom they sent it to and what else they might have said. Only one of these recipients has reached out to me, and that was when I requested it.

So, to oversimplify, the crux is that I experience this as revictimization. I don't use this word lightly. Far from it. And to be clear, it's like dipping my hand back into old experiences. It's nowhere near as bad as it once was. I could, and will in time, reach out and heal from this particular blow. I even know whom I will go to, my minister being one.

But what about the next time? As long as I write this blog, with a lack of good leadership around ministerial misconduct in the highest UU echelons, won't it always be the same for me? I'm not about being a victim. I aim to strive mightily, but constructively. I'm not interested in using my energy to fight. If my help is wanted, I'm there -- willing to give it my best. If I get slapped, the best choice is not to turn the other cheek. Nor is it to fight back. It's to walk away, which maybe is pretty close to turning the other cheek. There are plenty of other constructive things I can and will do.

The way the UUA is handling misconduct is wrong. Period. I'm glad to help untangle what the problems really are, and am very sympathetic with the extremely difficult roadblocks the leadership faces. But if there is one thing I learned as a victim of misconduct, it's to trust my gut, and get away if that's the best option. I'm not willing to do this work at the expense of respect and right relations.

So that's the worst of it. Other pieces have to do with the reality that this is ultimately not my problem. It is, of course, the UUA's. And there is good news on this front. I've heard that the Board has requested that Rev. Fred Muir attend their next meeting. I don't know in what capacity, but I have no doubt if the Board is willing to hear what he has to say, it will help -- maybe even set things back on a good path.

Also, I've heard of a local UU ministers' chapter that is working on these issues. That may only be local (and not even in my locale), but still it is heartening for me to hear.

As another former victim put it to me, we do seem to have a network growing. A network is much more needed than my particular voice. It's UUs living our seventh principle. I will take that any day over feeling safe in writing this blog.

Thich Nhat Hanh on the Third Buddhist Precept: Sexual Responsibility

2007-03-15T20:59:00.000-05:00

For those interested in Buddhism or sexual ethics, this essay by Thich Nhat Hanh is well worth the read. It’s different from what I usually see on the subject. While Thich Nhat Hanh has long been one of my heroes (a key figure in my 20 or so years of Buddhist practice), I didn't find his writings particularly helpful in the immediate wake of misconduct. But now, the misconduct is more distant and it's helpful to happen upon this.

Here are some sections that seem particularly insightful to me.

"'Responsibility' is the key word in the Third Precept. In a community of practice, if there is no sexual misconduct, if the community practices this precept well, there will be stability and peace. This precept should be practiced by everyone.... If you don't practice this precept, you may become irresponsible and create trouble in the community at large. We have all seen this. If a teacher cannot refrain from sleeping with one of his or her students, he or she will destroy everything, possibly for several generations.

Amen to that.

"Adults who were molested as children continue to suffer very much. Everything they think, do, and say bears the mark of that wound. They want to transform themselves and heal their wound, and the best way to do this is to observe the Third Precept. Because of their own experience, they can say, 'As a victim of sexual abuse, I undertake to protect all children and adults from sexual abuse.'"

I once read of a Zen survivor of abuse who made the abuse her koan. It seemed a perfect fit to me. Perhaps this is why I still care about this subject so many years later.

"We have to restore the meaning of the word 'love.' We have been using it in a careless way. When we say, "I love hamburgers," we are not talking about love. We are talking about our appetite, our desire for hamburgers.... Love is maitri, the capacity to bring joy and happiness, and karuna, the capacity to transform pain and suffering. This kind of love can only be good for people."

This quote touches and helps heal what can be one of the most profound hurts of sexual misconduct -- the abuse of the word love. It's deeply confusing to have an abusive mininster tell you that s/he loves you. It both does and doesn't feel like love. And this makes sense. The victim is more like a hamburger.

Time for a Report Card?

2007-03-06T19:19:00.000-06:00

HALT, a legal consumer organization, does an annual review, state-by-state, of lawyer discipline. Here's how one state in the top 10 (with a grade of C) breaks down:

Fairness of Disciplinary Procedures - A
Publicity and Responsiveness - B
Openness of the Process - B
Promptness - C
Adequacy of Discipline Imposed - D
Public Participation - F

I wish we had a "consumer" group to review our disciplinary process for ministers. It would be in everyone's best interest if, for example, the Board set up a review panel and made this kind of analysis part of its mission. This could happen fairly soon. However, people like me have been waiting for over a year now and it's foolish to only continue to hope.

So meanwhile, what can we learn from HALT's report card? A lot, I'd say. Its sections are carefully delineated (with clear measurables) and germane to us. This would become a very long post if I went through each section and reflected on how we might apply it to our circumstances, so instead I will break it down and cover this in a series of posts over the next few weeks. I'll be sure to group them in a category called report card.

Apologies Recap

2007-03-06T19:01:00.000-06:00

Reading Aaron Lazare's On Apology has spurred quite a series of posts. It's such a thought-provoking book, and I simply can't say enough good things about it. Apology has not typically been a central focus in Unitarian Universalist response to misconduct, but I hope it will be in the future.

Pulling together my various posts on this topic, they are:

Apologies Part 4: The Congregation

2007-02-28T20:14:00.000-06:00

A couple of weeks ago it struck me that my congregation has never apologized for the misconduct. This is in marked contrast to my awareness of the minister and the association. I am keenly aware of the status of apology in both of those cases, and have been for a very long time. The reason the congregation finally came to mind was a combination of reading On Apology and reflecting on it in the context of UU misconduct.

More significant, however, is why this hadn’t occurred to me before. That’s because the church has done so much other good work in this area, that I haven’t felt a need for an apology. They have walked the walk, so perhaps there is no need to talk the talk. The Association, on the other hand, may only have talked the talk.

I’ve only mentioned this fact to a couple of people in my congregation. The risk of talking about it is that someone may interpret this as a request from me or as a necessary next step. I don’t know if that’s the case. If it is, I believe it would be to help the church (as opposed to victims) heal.

Individual Apologies

Over the years, individuals in the congregation have apologized to me for various reasons. All of the apologies have been moving, and many represent ties that bind me to the church now.

The one that struck deepest came after I had spoken about my experience. I’ve only talked twice in public about what I went through. In this case (at a General Assembly years ago), I mentioned how helpful apologies were. To my amazement, a woman from my congregation came up afterwards, grabbed my hands, and with tears pouring out told me how sorry she was. I know this woman well, and she’s not the emotive sort. She’s more of a stalwart humanist UU. To this day, I don’t know what she had to apologize to me about, but I could tell it lifted a huge weight from her heart. For me, even though I didn’t think she owed me one, it was a powerful affirmation that what had happened was not my fault.

Would It Help the Congregation?

Because of being part of apologies like this, I wonder if a congregation’s apologizing would help it? And what of congregations that have not fared as well as mine? Even many years later in a congregation that has healed as much as any, when you talk to older members it’s clear that some still carry shame from those bad days. Usually it’s because the minister duped them into believing that people like me were the problem. It’s painful to realize not just that your minister is untrustworthy, but also that your own judgment of others can be seriously flawed. How can you trust again? What does in mean about congregations and being part of them? Is it all a sham? I know. I had to go through the same learning curve.

I’ve never heard of a UU congregation that’s apologized for misconduct. My bet is not one ever has. But please – prove me wrong. Please write if you know of such and tell the story.

Surviving vs. Happiness

2007-02-23T11:35:00.000-06:00

While seeking happiness is a major theme in my life, I hadn’t intended for it to be part of this blog. As much as I’d thought about it (not much), I’d assumed I would blog, and then go off and do what it took to recover from reliving the pain of misconduct.

Well, guess what. That wasn’t working. So, to fold happiness into the blog is primarily a way to keep on blogging about misconduct at all.

My biggest hesitation in doing this was concern about other victims and survivors. I know all too well the sticks that are shaken at victims. Get over it. Move on. Basically, don’t bother me.

And I really, really don’t want this blog to be a stick shaken at victims. It’s all too easy for me to imagine others saying to a victim, “See—she’s over it. Why don’t you just do what she did?” Or worse yet, and actually more likely, a victim might do this to herself. We all have those voices going off in our head, comparing ourselves to others.

When things were at their worst for me, there wasn’t anything much published about happiness, and so I don’t have direct experience of trying to use this as a tool when circumstances are horrific. When I try to imagine, the mind boggles.

I do, remember, though, silver linings in even my darkest days. I particularly recall making fun of the situation with trusted others. There’s an absurd side to misconduct and it’s easy to parody. It’s not something to share beyond the very most trustworthy, but still I do remember those moments as happy and offering much-needed respite.

That’s actually my best guess for victims at the nadir of facing misconduct. There will always be moments of happiness (black humor, a nice walk, a lovely vase of flowers), so just to enjoy them however brief and fleeting. I think it’s essential to honor the pain, to dive into it, really see it for what it is, and emerge for respite as often as necessary and possible.

Happiness Momentum

2007-02-23T08:00:00.000-06:00

Much of what keeps me engaged with happiness is the explosive growth in publications about it. For me, to read about happiness is to move in that direction. I don’t buy the set-point theory of personality. That’s the one that posits that a person is basically a certain degree of pessimistic or optimistic, and on average that’s where they will be their whole life.

I was deeply unhappy -- with good cause -- many years ago. I took that experience, learned from it, and have been moving ever since into places I never dreamed possible. Perhaps the ferocious winds of misconduct blew me out of a set-point?

I have different tools to keep the momentum going, but (being UU) my favorite is reading. And oh my heavens. There has been an onslaught of publications in this area the last few years. It seems a floodgate has opened.

Converging Disciplines

The opening floodgates seem to be a convergence of three areas: neuroscience, psychology and religion (particularly Buddhism). The last is my best window, since I’ve been practicing and reading about Buddhism for years, but I jump into the other two when I can understand them.

My favorites are the highly reputable publications, such as Scientific American and the New York Times, plus blogs. The publications I give wide-berth to are the self-help variety – the overly simplistic, this-is-the-panacea books and now blogs too of this ilk. One must learn how to distinguish blogs.

Here’s a good recent example of the kind of publication I am talking about:

Craig Lambert, "The Science of Happiness: Psychology explores humans at their best." Harvard Magazine

And here is a favorite blog, vetted by a reputable publisher, in this case O’Reilly:

Mind Hacks

Happy reading.

An About-Face Into Happiness

2007-02-21T20:41:00.000-06:00

And now for a complete change of pace....

I like to think I am a sane person (just a garden variety neurotic, as one of my good buddies put it – making me think I must look something like a petunia). Over the years my favorite technique for not plunging full-tilt into despair when dealing with the ugliness of misconduct is astonishingly simple. I focus on happiness.

Good Books to the Rescue

This began in 1998. I’d been a Buddhist for many years, and had been following the Dalai Lama’s doings for a couple of decades. That year I discovered a pre-publication announcement for The Art of Happiness and ordered it on the spot from amazon.com. It was even better than I had hoped. It remains my all-time favorite of the many books by the Dalai Lama, and one of my top five Buddhist books.

Just listen to its first sentence.

“I believe that the very purpose of our life is to seek happiness”

And consider its source.

Next on this new reading list of mine came Destructive Emotions: A Scientific Dialogue with the Dalai Lama. It took me over a year to wade through it. In retrospect I wonder if its taking so long wasn’t actually even more helpful – increasing my opportunities to apply its insights in real life.

Righteous Anger is Still Anger

One those pivotal moments happened in my life when I was walking home after an absolutely dreadful day. I knew I was angry and that I had good cause, but all of a sudden it hit me right between the eyes. The person who was suffering most from this anger was me. It really didn’t matter that it was justified. So right then and there, with no further ado, I just let it go. I did an about-face into happiness.

The same model goes for the kind of anger I’ve experienced over the injustices done by the UUA. In the end, getting angry hurts me most. Not to say there is no place for anger, especially the righteous variety. At times it can be a clean-burning fuel that gets me from Point A to Point B faster than anything. Or it can magically melt away parts of the self-hatred and depression that are so much a part of recovering from abuse.

There are no simple answers. The closest I can get to simple on anger is:

Be aware of it when it’s happening. Don’t let it govern you.
Be exquisitely careful with what you do with the energy it generates.
If there is any doubt, do what you can to let it go.
If letting it go sounds best but impossible or close to it, just do what you can. Baby steps. Me – I try to focus on nature at such moments. What does the sky look like? Are there buds? How does the air smell?

Perhaps it seems paradoxical to look at misconduct and happiness side-by-side. But to me it makes perfect sense. And a blog being a blog, hopefully I will have time to convince you of this in upcoming posts. Or perhaps you are already. In either case, I hope you share in this quest for happiness.

Apologies Part 3: The Association

2007-02-19T19:42:00.000-06:00

At the 2000 General Assembly, Kay Montgomery, Vice President of the Unitarian Universalist Association, apologized to victims and survivors of clergy misconduct. I was in that assembly, and was profoundly moved. It was one of those rare moments when I could literally feel a weight coming off of me. It was so clear to me that she was sincere. And I believed her. Completely.

But something has gone wrong since then. I don’t know what has caused this, but there's enough evidence that I'm sure this is so. The momentum in her words has disappeared and the direction appears to have been lost.

I could guess as to why. Perhaps there would be some point to that. The better the diagnosis, the more likely one is to treat an illness. But I’m too far removed, and so it would be only that – a guess.

The crux of why I say something has gone wrong is in the final words: “The Association has largely failed the people most hurt by sexual misconduct, the victims and survivors. Other denominations have done better. These brave and bruised people have, more often than not I suspect, been left lonely, confused, afraid, angry and betrayed. Un-ministered to.... I am profoundly sorry. And I pledge that this gap, this failure, will be remedied.” She went on to say, “This past year we experimented with a nascent advocacy program. Inspired by the Panel's report, we will change and learn and in this untended area, we will bend toward justice.”

For five years after hearing those words I simply trusted, without questioning, that the association was tending to this area. I didn’t expect overnight miracles. Then in the fall of 2005 I became a support person to a current complainant. I was both shocked and dismayed to discover how little progress had been made. Early on, I would tell the complainant how much better things would be now. Mind you, I never told her it would be easy. In my opinion there isn’t any way anyone can make speaking up about abuse easy or painless. Nonetheless I had little doubt that the process had to be better, that “the mission of service" would now reach people like her.

In some ways the process actually had improved markedly. While the advocates Ms. Montgomery had spoken of had been diluted to liaisons, nonetheless this was an enormous improvement. In other ways, however, the process had become, if anything worse. There was less evidence of compassion than had been there before and there was a dangerous inclination to minimize. Most telling of all, the complainant was still not given a copy of the findings.

And yet, I hesitate to say this was a failed or empty apology. I want to give the association a few more years. Is it possible that by 2010 the leadership will get serious about fulfilling their promise of 2000, and maybe even reaffirm their apology to more recent complainants? I think it is possible. Not easy, mind you, but easier than being a complainant.

For now, I want to remember the sincerity I heard in Ms. Montgomery’s voice and the healing I felt when rereading her words. I don’t know what the barriers are that the UUA faces, but I hope and believe that I am not alone in doing what I can to pull these barriers down and truly bend the association towards justice.

Signs of Trauma

2007-02-18T08:09:00.000-06:00

I've been asked about the physical marks I mentioned yesterday. Sorry. I didn't mean to be mysterious. They actually aren't that big a deal other than that they exist at all -- my body's reminders of trauma past. In fact, one I'm ridiculously proud of.

Typically it's things doctors can spot, while others wouldn't notice. For example, my dentist asked me recently what serious illness I had had a number of years ago. It beats me what he's seeing. Actually, it reminds me of reading Antarctic ice samples to tell the history of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere.

The victims of misconduct that I know have all had major weight issues at least in the immediate wake of the misconduct. Most got way too thin, but one I know had the opposite reaction, and became obese. I gather both are common reactions. I'm also glad to say that most of us have healed and our weight is now in normal range (whatever that means in our society -- but that's a different issue).

My most apparent change (and the one I'm proud of, though I have no right to be) is that my hair changed color. The year after filing the complaint it looked as if I had a bad hair dye job growing out, though I never dyed my hair -- ever. But then it emerged this lovely silver color ("prematurely gray"), which was much nicer than my original color. I wouldn't recommend this as a beauty tip, though. Forget it.

Personally I think happiness is the most attractive. I hope one day to look like the Dalai Lama (my beauty role model?), but have a long way to go. And I'll never look good in maroon, let alone maroon and gold.

To Reach Me

2007-02-17T14:00:00.000-06:00

I’m getting feedback that it’s a bit difficult to reach me. I know and I wish it could be otherwise. My basic reason is fear. Specifically it’s fear of spam and retribution – not a pretty combination.

Unfortunately these are realistic fears for someone like me. For example, several inflammatory mailings about me were sent to much of my congregation back in the year that we all agree was the worst in our history. I’ve always thought that adage “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” was crazy. The cruel words from that era hurt to the core. They were the worst kind of character assassination, and they came from people I had never done anything to. What I had done was to file a complaint that had nothing to do with them. Their cruelty left me unable to eat or sleep for long periods of time, and gave me physical marks I will have for the rest of my life.

When I met another complainant a few years ago, it was eerie how similar her story was. She too couldn’t eat or sleep. She said she thought of herself as “the walking dead.” She talked about how she would be walking down the sidewalk when other UUs would see her, point fingers at her, whisper to each other and even laugh. She won her case in court. And she is no longer UU.

Actually such malice is just another form of silencing. And it’s very effective. I have no wish to have my reputation dragged through the mud again. On the other hand, I think its important to share what I know so it's less likely that others will have to go through the same hell. Thus to be able to blog feels like a miracle to me. It gives my so frequently arrested voice an arena to speak in. And so far, it feels relatively safe.

To remain safe, I’ve been quite cautious. I have set the comments on Blogger’s most restrictive setting (short of turning them off altogether). If any of you more familiar with Blogger have advice on how best to set commenting, I’d appreciate it.

I thought I’d made it possible to find my email address, but apparently I haven’t. If you are having trouble using the comments or would prefer to email me, my address is uugrrl at mac dot com. I will, by the way, take this down if I start being harassed of spammed. But here’s hoping that those of you who wish in good faith to reach me find this, and that all the nasty spammers don’t.

Apologies Part 2: the Minister and the MFC

2007-02-15T18:55:00.000-06:00

Marie Fortune has an illuminating skit she does with survivors of clergy misconduct. She sits in a chair and says the sort of things victims of clergy abuse say. “He ruined my life.” “They didn’t believe me.” Etc. With each statement someone throws a cloth over her, at first muffling her and then making her impossible to hear. Then the cloths gradually come off with each act of justice and mercy. “It's a travesty that this happened to you.” “What can we do to help?” And so on.

For me, the single act that would have made the most difference – cut fastest through those layers – would have been the abusive minister apologizing sincerely to me. In fact, I have no doubt it would still help today, many years later. And so, I believe, apology should play a central role in responding to clergy misconduct. It’s important enough that I think it needs to be written into the policies and procedures for addressing misconduct.

Not surprisingly the issue of sexual abuse, particularly clergy misconduct, is mentioned with some frequency in Aaron Lazare's On Apology. Lazare particularly stresses the need such victims have for an apology to validate them and affirm that what happened was not their fault. I agree. That’s critical. But in the cases I know of, the perpetrators have gone to great lengths to do the exact opposite. These abusive ministers, even though there is no question that they have violated their code of conduct multiple times, tried to portray themselves as the victims (in essence saying the people they abused deserved it). Unfortunately, this strategy often worked for them. A significant number of people, including various people in leadership, believed them. A particularly troubling dynamic is that some other ministers (incorrectly) identified with them.

To me what this says is that a negotiated apology, in the absence of a sincere, self-motivated one, should be a, if not the, pivotal part of the process of an adjudicating body like the UUA’s Ministerial Fellowship Committee (MFC). In such instances, the MFC can’t simply require an apology. They need to make sure it is to the victims (not the MFC or someone else) and that it is real -- that the minister as clearly and as often as is needed accepts the responsibility, and that they include adequate reparations. The MFC also needs to structure in consequences if minister does not apologize adequately. In my experience, a lack of remorse in a minister is even more disturbing than the original abusive behavior. What kind of minister isn’t sorry for causing grave damage?

Unlike victims, credentialing bodies like the MFC are in a position to force abusive ministers to prove themselves. They can call the question. It’s easy for a minister to wiggle out of an apology when a victim asks for it. Not so if the MFC does. Not only can the MFC require an apology to the victims, they can monitor it – using it as a tool to measure whether or not the perpetrator really is fit to remain a minister.

Another compelling reason to structure apologies into the MFC process is that they can help with false accusations as well. One of the most moving stories in On Apology (pages 237-8) is of Steven Cook, who accused Cardinal Joseph Bernadin of sexually abusing him. "The cardinal denied the charges while making it clear how humiliated, hurt, and deeply wounded he felt. After … Mr. Cook dropped the charges, the cardinal arranged a meeting with Cook…. Cook then apologized for the embarrassment and hurt he had caused. The cardinal found the apology ‘simple, direct, and deeply moving.’ He gave a Bible and a chalice to Cook, who received these objects with tears in his eyes. The cardinal later commented, ‘Never in my 43 years as a priest have I witnessed a more profound reconciliation.’”

One last reason to emphasize apology is that unlike other forms of justice such as monetary damages or defellowshipping, it can easily be seen as a religious act in itself.