“Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another,
because love covers a multitude of sins.” 1 Peter 4:8
Everywhere I look, lately, there is a great deal of divisiveness
in Christendom as to what constitutes abuse of power in both politics and the
pulpit; whether or under what circumstances one should be considered unfit to
wield power once witnesses have come forward with accusations of abuse, and how
we should relate to both the accused and the accusers.
Some stand with and defend those with compelling accounts of
suffering both physically and emotionally under these leaders whom they
trusted. Statistics support the belief
that people rarely bring false accusations of abuse, particularly if more than
one witness comes forward with similar experiences. Stories of abuse should spark moral outrage
and there is a very real responsibility for Christians to support those who
have been mistreated and to make every effort to see that others are protected
from suffering the same treatment at the hands of these individuals. The truth must come out in order for that to
be accomplished.
But, as Christians, the manner in which we go about
accomplishing this purpose is as important as the purpose itself. There is nothing that brings out ugly
self-righteousness faster than defending someone else. The intrinsic belief that ‘all is fair in
love and war’ comes into play on all fronts; we love the victim and we want to
go to war. No holds barred. Fangs bared, claws out. It is so easy to justify ripping into the
accused and tearing him to shreds. We
can become intoxicated with the smell of blood, in the name of protecting the
innocent. I know, I’ve been there.
On the other side, some stand with the accused. While there are those who completely discount
the stories of the accusers, I’m not talking about them. I’m referring to those who admit that the
stories are likely valid, but take the position that, because, in God’s eyes we
are all sinners, we do not have the right to judge and condemn; particularly if
the accused abuser has indicated repentance.
They object to the exposure and detailed dissecting of every sordid
detail. They ask us to imagine how we
would feel if our lives were similarly exposed for all to see. They remind us that we have no right to cast
the first stone, and that the one who did have the right chose not to, but
instead offered forgiveness. They tell
us that only God can determine the sincerity of another’s confession. They ask us to see this person as a brother
who is frail and fallible, like us, and just as in need of pardon.
These sincere Christians also point to stories in scripture
like that of King David, who used his position to seduce Bathsheba, then
impregnated her and ultimately had her husband killed to protect his
secret. They remind us that, far from
removing him from his position as king, God declared him to be a man after his
own heart; perhaps as a result of the repentance which occurred after his sin was
exposed and he saw himself for who he was before God.
They are not far wrong.
I have said these very things in defense of those who are guilty. I have hoped and prayed for their restoration
to effective leadership. But this position
effectively dismisses those who were harmed at their hands. In essence it says “Yes, yes, we’re sorry for
you, but we must forgive, and so must you.
Let’s move on.”
I came to believe a long time ago that there is no perfect
way for humans to deal with sin. It
would be one thing if “sin” was limited to acts which we do; we could perhaps,
then, manage to look at another’s actions dispassionately and objectively; but,
sin is a condition. It permeates every
single cell of every single body. Because
of that condition no one sees, thinks or acts without its influence. We are blinded, to a great extent, to that
influence in our own lives, so how could we think for a second that we could
clearly see beyond our own plank to deal with the blindness of another? We desire to do what we think is right, but
our attempts often do more damage than good.
Should we then do nothing because what we do will be messy
and imperfect? Should we stand aside and
let the chips fall where they may? No. There are most certainly times when we must
take a stand; we must speak and act. But
we are always called to act from love; because we deserved nothing but God’s
wrath, and instead we were loved. We need
to genuinely pray to find the most loving thing for all concerned, and then do
it in the most loving way possible. If
we speak truth, we must speak it in love (Ephesians 4:15). If we restore, we must restore gently, lest
we fall ourselves (Galatians 6:1). Sometimes
love allows a person to experience the full weight of the consequences of their
actions, but it never rejoices in that; it weeps. At the same time we never discount another’s
pain; we bind up the brokenhearted and wrap them in our arms.
Although we may have more questions than answers, and it may
seem impossible, we need to ask God to show us how to be a safe place for both
the abused and the abuser, because, if we are honest, each of us is, to some
extent, both the abused and the abuser. God
help us all.