Both the Abused and the Abuser

“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.