Dec 26, 2018
by Pastor Phil Lawton
This letter is dedicated to all those who in the last year have shared with me their stories. To those of you who have trusted me with some of the deepest hurts in your life. To those of you who years later are now able to look back and find something redeeming about your story. To those of you who are still in the midst of confusion about what the future holds.
I have heard you. And I’m sorry. To all the survivors of abuse, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry that many of you learned very young that the world can be a place of suffering and pain. I’m sorry that your childhood, or your innocence, or your independence was ripped from you in a flash. I’m sorry that the people you trusted to help you failed you. I’m sorry that churches kept secrets for years. I’m sorry that the very place that should be a bastion of light in a dark world has often been a cave festering with mold and despair. I’m sorry that so often the very institutions that are designed to protect you have actually protected those who harmed you. I’m sorry that laws have protected your abuser, because you waited until you were ready to talk. I’m sorry that people have used your stories to promote their own political agendas. I’m sorry that as a pastor I often represent those who have abused you or covered up the abuse done to you.
To those of you who have been harmed by those in the church, I want to give a special apology. I’m sorry that the church has failed you. I’m sorry that rather than bringing this to light the church has often chosen to cover up what happened to you. I’m sorry that the church is so afraid to talk about sex that we can’t even help those who are most in need. I know that you have every reason to turn your back on God and the church. I want you to know that God has not turned His back on you, even if the church has.
Survivor, do you know that, even if the church is afraid to talk about abuse, God is not? Do you know of Dinah, and Tamar, and the Levite’s concubine? God sees the wickedness that has been done to you. God has given voice to your suffering when you could not. God does not shy away from you or think less of you because of what has been done to you.
Survivor—I say that because you are not a victim. Survivor, do you know that God understands your pain? Do you know that Jesus was abused and betrayed too? Do you know that He was stripped naked and beaten in public? Do you know He was made to walk in shame? Jesus knows your pain. Jesus understands what you have gone through. His friends and family turned their backs on him too.
Survivor, do you know that Jesus died and rose again? Do you know that Jesus came to declare the Kingdom of God? Do you know that in the Kingdom of God the blind are given sight, the lame walk, and the dead rise again? Do you know that He was prophesied to do this? Do you know that He is coming again to set all things right? Do you know that on that day there will be no more tears and no more pain and no more sorrow?
This is the good news that the church should have told you. This is the message that the church should be proclaiming. For too long the church has been afraid to take a stand for those in need. The church has been like Israel of old, oppressing those most in need. The church thinks that on the day of judgement it will be vindicated, but I fear it may be darkness and not light for many in the church.
For all these wrongs I am sorry.
But it does not have to remain this way. The church can be a place of hope for you. I know this to be true. I know it starts with me.
So I make a pledge.
I pledge that I will never cover up the wrongs done to you. I pledge that any church where I serve will be a refuge for you. I pledge that if it is not, I will work to make it so. I pledge that I will do the work in my own life to make sure that I am able to hear your story. I pledge to do everything in my power to bring you justice—not justice by my definition but yours. I pledge that I will call out those in the church who have sheltered these perpetrators. I pledge to listen to you. To cry with you. To mourn with you. To be angry with you. And, when you are ready, to stand with you against those who have harmed you.