Clare McIvor Clare McIvor

Abuse, Cover Up’s, and Sex Scandals - Church, We Have a Problem.

This past week, a few people slid into my DM’s with the same headline. Brian Houston, the man who heads the Hillsong Empire, is up on charges for covering up sexual abuse of minors. Yes, plural. He claims innocence, of course, and the long arm of the law must wait until he returns from Mexico (!!!) to take the next steps in the two year investigation. Houston famously fired his own dad after it came out that Houston Snr. (Frank) had abused minors. Did Brian Houston remove his dad from the staff? Yes. Did he make organisational changes? Allegedly, yes. But did he go to the police with the information he had and was obligated to report, thus allowing the system to process the charges and take reasonable steps to prevent future abuse? Apparently not. This knowledge doesn’t rock me. It doesn’t even surprise me. If there is an emotion anywhere near surprise, it is my anger and disappointment that it has become so unexceptional. To place doctrine, ambition or empire over person. To do exactly what Jesus would not do.

This from the people who instruct us in the ways of selflessness and Christ-likeness, who we take as moral standard bearers over our lives. Yet, in this moment when justice comes knocking for Houston Jnr, will the Church collectively answer the clarion call to stand on the side of justice, truth, and lawful living let alone compassion and advocating for the vulnerable? I doubt it very much.

As we know, Hillsong’s followers and attendees number in the millions. Across the world, there are numerous “campuses” as they are now called. Last year, we saw another Hillsong scalp fall as Carl Lentz got outed for cheating on his wife. It happened in a year when Ravi Zacharias, the legendary apologist, died and with that took to the grave any possibility of justice for his alleged abuse victims (who I absolutely believe, for the record). It has been reported that Zacharias regularly exaggerated his academic achievements, and that there are multiple sexual misconduct victims.

Then there’s Jerry and Becki Falwell, the couple at the head of the conservative Christian College, Liberty University in Virginia. They were outed as having some sexual practices that certainly wouldn’t fit within the doctrines they publicly espoused. (I.e. One of them would trawl the university for young men for Becki to sleep with while Jerry watched on. It’s called cuckholding. If that’s your thing. Fine. Just don’t shame girls for their spaghetti strap cami’s or loss of virginity while you watch your wife doing the the pool boy. Hypocrite. That’s before you delve into the issues around power distance between a sexual predator and their prey).

The Falwell issue was creepy at best, predatory at worst, and when you throw in their the fact that it was Falwell’s recommendation that went a long way to putting Trump on the American throne for four ill-fated years, ousting Ted Cruz as the conservative anointed one, it gets creepier. It is rumoured Trump hooked the Falwell’s up with his lawyer. A cover up in return for a favour, perhaps? But the pool boy talked (Here’s the scoop on that one: The Rollingstone with some more salacious pieces of wow for you).

There’s a joke in there about the wrong type of preying/praying, but its entirely the wrong time for jokes.

You could be fooled for thinking that these people were anomalies. That there was just too much at stake for these Christian leaders to operate by the moral standing required of them as they headed up these large churches or Christian institutions. Does the end justify the means if you are weighing the life of a handful of abuse victims versus the millions of followers worldwide? The answer should be obvious here: no! In the parable of the lost sheep, the good shepherd leaves the flock of 99 to care for the one that was lost. As groups like the Australian Christian Lobby parade around, crying foul over the Church’s loss of privilege as the institution that was somehow a standard bearer for morality and goodness, this is what we are weighing it against - People like Brian Houston who is famously pals with Prime Minister Scott Morrison, and who is off preaching in Mexico while a two year investigation draws its conclusions that there is enough evidence to charge him for his handling of his fathers abuse of minors.

You could be forgiven for thinking that somehow the sheer size of Hillsong would make it harder for Brian Houston to do the right thing. Perhaps that he is the anomaly, or that riches and influence somehow made it too hard to stand up for truth without compromising the work of the ministry globally.

But there are three problems with that logic: 1) its horse shit, 2) its diametrically opposed to the energy of the gospel, and 3), perhaps most importantly, its not just the bigwigs.

My suspicion, and my lived experience as an Evangelical survivor and as a podcaster/blogger who moves in exvangelical spheres, is that the issue of abuse and its mishandling permeates right through institutionalised religion. These people are supposed to represent Jesus - the model for compassion, justice and self-sacrifice. And yet they do it so very poorly. It would be laughable if it weren’t so darn tragic.

Roughly a year and a half ago, I sat in a courthouse waiting room with the mother of an alleged abuse victim (alleged - because the case is still before the courts at the time of writing. But I 100% believe and support the victim). We waited for the accused to turn up for his hearing. He was a pastors son. (Still is). He never showed. The victim’s mother had shepherded her priceless, vulnerable child through treacherous years, having disclosed the abuse to the pastor almost a decade prior and then weathering all sorts of personal hell as the crime was kept quiet and covered up (allegedly, again I'm using the word even though I 100% believe the victim and their mother). She approached police, who were rightly concerned about the vulnerability of the victim when it came to the timing of pursuing charges. But this day, she had raised every ounce of Mamma bear strength she had, and sat at the court house waiting to face them - both the accused and his pastor-parents. But the accused never showed. No one did.

I later heard (via second hand sources, admittedly) that there was a prayer meeting across town. It was supposedly a special prayer meeting called as “the church was under attack.” If true, then I can only guess where the accused was. And I can only guess what “the attack” was.

Lady Justice was at the ready, scales in hand.

Here is the case in point: Brian Houston has millions of excuses, irrelevant excuses, to potentially cloud his judgement when it comes to reporting the crimes. Count them in attendees, or count them in dollars - whatever balances your scales - but nothing stands up to me and thousands of others who demand that churches, you know, represent a loving God. But what about the abovementioned micro-church pastor? Well at this point I would estimate his church attendance to be well under 50. Does he have the same money or power to justify covering up the (alleged) abuse?

I think not. And yet…

It’s not just the bigwigs that that seem to think that the call of the their god, whatever that god may be, is bigger than the call of justice. This is an opinion piece. Let’s state that loud and proud. I blame two major factors for this gross miscarriage of justice. 1) Dominionism, and 2) Power. Let’s take the latter first.

I once saw a movie, and for the life of me I can’t remember what it was, but there was a line that struck me so hard the rest of the movie became irrelevant. The quote was this: “One of the greatest myths in the world is that power is innocent.”

We would so like to think that church leaders are immune to the corrupting influence of power. But with the growth of influence comes the growth of ego. Therefore, humility is less of a trait and more of a discipline, and it is my suspicion that too few people in power understand this. Still fewer church pastors, regardless of the size of their congregation, adequately discern the depth of their power/influence over their congregants. They do exist, I’m sure of it! I’ve met maybe a small handful for whom I know this to be true. But what of the others, however innumerable they may be?

I once did an interview with Mike Phillips who aptly pointed out that, as soon as there is money, hierarchy or power involved in a community, there is the opportunity for that to become corrupted. It was a damn good point. Influence is just another word for power, let’s be honest. I have witnessed, time after time, that the damage caused to a victim within a church system can regularly fall far down the priority list when it involves exposing the ways in which people in positions of power have behaved badly or covered up the actions of those who did.

Even when it involves grievous harm.

So what if a church of a million closes because the pastor was found to be covering up child abuse? So what if that pastor is friends with the prime minister? If we think that the means justify the end, if we think that our empires and our money and our political influence is more important than a child who faced insufferable abuse at the hands of anyone within our leadership ranks, we are thoroughly and biblically wrong. Jesus said “let the little children come to me. Forbid them not for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

But what do we do when we tell a child that their innocence, their damage, is less important than God’s man or God’s plan? We are the stumbling block in their way. We are a giant, cosmic “fuck you” representative of God himself.

This isn’t true for just the original victim. It is true for the mothers and fathers who advocated for that child. For the siblings who knew the secret. For the relationships and friendships throughout the course of that childs life who are privy to the damage and hold the hands of the victim as they weather the tough terrain of recovery. To them, the question is obvious: “Where is God in all of this?” And the picture we give them time and time again is that he is there, behind the Frank Houston’s of the world, and that the Brian Houston’s of the world are there to play armour bearer and get in the way of justice. It is here in these moments, that Jesus, who came to model radical, sacrificial love and inclusivity, to stand up for justice, overthrow corruption, and model the law of love, is completely absent from the Institutions of Church. In fact, Church more clearly resembles the pharisees and sadducees of the scripture who Jesus railed against, and who railed against him.

Did I just call Brian Houston, and any church leader who values power, money or influence over the plight of the vulnerable or covers up abuse within their ranks, a Pharisee? Yes. I did.

But where did we get the idea in the first place that there was a call so great, so lofty, that it was our mandate, and not serving the vulnerable, marginalised or at risk? Thats the second problem: Dominionism.

I’m going to go ahead and say it: this is the most problematic doctrine in churches today. It’s a big call to make but I stand behind it. Dominionism is unbiblical. It sounds nice, because it tells us that power and dominion is our birthright as Christians; that we are somehow spiritual spies with a heavenly mandate to infiltrate and take over the halls of power, whether they be business, politics, family, spirituality, education, entertainment or health. That God intended for the world to fall in line while we ascend to power. Tempting, isn’t it, to believe that saying the magic words (the sinners prayer) automatically entitles you to riches, power and influence.

I’ve written on Dominionism before, and I’ll link you at the end of this article. Dominionism is believed by its adherents to be Biblical. But when you delve into it, it is nothing more than a heresy - an unbiblical idea that appeals to some because it rubber stamps their desires for societal ascension. Politics is where dominionism is most obvious - we saw it in Trump pandering to the Republicans and locking up the Conversative vote. We saw it at the end of his presidency when his followers blindly proclaimed false prophesies about his second term, and we saw it in the Capital under seige on January 6. This was not a kingdom based on righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost (the definition given in Romans 14:17). This was a kingdom built on ego, and its fruits were violence and lawlessness. Yet the good Christian conscience of many of these conservative followers was absent. Dominionism had replaced discernment, and Donald “Grab ‘em by the pussy Trump” was now their banner. His multiple divorces now overlooked (an aberration not to little old me, but to many of these church leaders who abandoned their own doctrines to support the man). The sexual assault allegations against him now silenced. To raise these abuses would be to speak against God’s anointed, as they like to say.

Of course, not all American Christians. Of course - I say by way of disclaimer. This topic tends to get my blood a little warm to say the least.

The problem runs deep. Deep enough for many many blog pieces to cover it. But it doesn’t just apply to billionaires or church leaders with millions of followers. It also applies to small church leaders, even micro church leaders, who think the end justifies the means or who believe that their great and lofty call is more important than the child who discloses that a church leader did something to do them.

If the church can only reach its goals by silencing its victims, then the institution is lost. It is not representative of Jesus. It is not representative of any of the values it claims to espouse. Jesus told us, in the New Testament about the law of love. If we look on the global scale as churches fail to protect their victims, we have to mark this with a gigantic fail. So if we can’t measure up to Jesus one commandment, then maybe we should go back to the Ten Commandments:

  1. I am the Lord your God, you shall have no gods before me. (Okay then…how about power? Can I worship power or riches before You? FAIL)

  2. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord in vain. (Oh, do you mean using the name of the Lord to justify things that the Lord would absolutely not justify? FAIL)

  3. Remember to keep the Lords Day Holy. (Well first of all the sabbath is a Saturday, so for the majority - FAIL)

  4. Honour your father and your mother (Okay. Maybe this one is okay, for the churches who don’t split families apart in the name of “restoration” or “spiritual fathering”)

  5. Thou shalt not kill (Gosh, I hope we don’t fail this one! But do you count it when people suffer abuse at church and then lose their lives to suicide? FAIL)

  6. Thou shalt not commit adultery (I’m looking at you Carl Lentz, and the Falwell’s. Fail)

  7. Thou shalt not steal. (Do you mean stealing a child’s innocence? Does that count? FAIL)

  8. Thou shalt not bear false witness. (OOOOh burn. FAIL)

  9. Thou shalt not covet your neighbours wife. (Lol. Sorry Carl Lentz. You bombed twice in one scripture passage)

  10. Thou shalt not covet your neighbours goods. (Okay, even I’m bombing here, because my neighbour has some cool stuff.)

How did we rate? 1-2 out of 10?

Let’s refer back to the big man, shall we? If Jesus became “obedient to the point of death, even death on the cross,” can’t you report crimes against children and vulnerable people? If Jesus said “Let the children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,” should we be making these children suffer and bear wounds from which their recovery will be long and gruelling if possible at all?

The point I’m making is this: the Church is now being disabused of the idea that it is above the law, or even that it is an example of anything to society. The Royal Commission into Institutional Abuse (in Australia) was a damning mirror held up to our faces, and yet we refused to take a good hard look. Here we are, years later, and the secular world is leading the charge when it comes to all matters pertaining to protecting and advocating for the vulnerable, and demanding truth and transparency from organisations. And the people who seem to be kicking the most against this progress seem to be found in churches. Or in Mexico. Or attempting to wield political influence so they can continue on their merry, unscrutinised way.

Is all lost? Can the church be rescued? Only if it is willing to look in that mirror, long and hard, and completely rebuild it’s structures from the ground up - to humble itself to the point of death, even death on the cross. Can miracles happen, yes. Do good churches exist, yes. Have I experienced some of these good churches? Yes, I think so. Do I still take a dim view of the system worldwide? heck yes.

Do better church. You won’t find me supporting Brian Houston, or any other pastor against whom an allegation has been raised. You’ll find me on the side of the victim who had to gather every shred of strength and self-belief to stand up and report what happened to them, only to be smacked down and silenced. Because generally speaking where there is one such allegation, there is bound to be more.

I hope I am proven wrong. I just don’t think I will be.

xo
Kit K - who has a bee in her bonnet today.

And the Links Bebe:

What is Dominionism?

Is there a Biblical Basis for Dominionism?

Why I’m Not a Dominionism Anymore
Dominionism in the era of Trump and ScoMo, the 2019 Edition

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Clare McIvor Clare McIvor

Let’s Talk About Cardinal Pell and Institutional Abuse

For years now, the Catholic Church child sex abuse scandal has worn on. For the victims in each harrowing case, it is more than just years. It’s trauma they carry forever. We don’t know their names. We don’t know their individual stories, but when the latest, high-ranking scalp fell, it reminded us all that we still have work to do. I wasn’t sure what to say about this issue, if anything at all. I didn’t want to be another voice in the din, offering nothing more to the conversation but virtue signalling. But I read a quote on Facebook this week (penned by my husband, admittedly) and it caught it all. So I’m sharing that. Because its the whole ballgame.

He said this.

“Institutional abuse isn’t just perpetrated by one person. It’s also reinforced by all of us around the victim who for years ignored the signs, then wouldn’t listen to children when they spoke up, and sided with the perpetrator when the victim spoke out. And even when years later, a conviction is secured, for a victim the trauma continues. Powerful men who still won’t face up to the truth about their hero, still stand with the perpetrator, preferring to believe the victim must be lying, rather than allow their illusion about a man be shattered. These men who still defend the perpetrator are in a sense secondary victims, because they believed in him their whole lives and he let them down. The sadness of it all disrupts all those whose life was influenced by Pell. Some of those handle it by facing up to the awful truth, and others double down on their denial.”

He was referring, of course, to the Pell sex abuse case and two past Prime Ministers offering their support or character references to the Cardinal. The media was in uproar over it, but Abbott and Howard weren’t the only ones grappling with the guilty verdict.

It seems like the whole issue of sexual misconduct is reaching fever pitch right now. It would be easy to turn a blind eye to the trauma and the fallout. In a sea of stories, it could be easy to get compassion fatigue over the whole thing.

But that’s the problem. Institutional abuse can happen because we turn a blind eye and ignore the warnings signs or cries for help. We might not want to face up to the ramifications of it all. We might not want our heroes to fall from grace in our eyes. The ugly truth may require us to look at our own participation, and ask “how can I be a better ally for vulnerable people, regardless of their age? What must I do? What am I tacitly approving of if I don’t speak up?” It may present us with some tough changes to make, but it’s necessary.

Here’s what I know:

  • The abuse of children matters greatly to God.

  • There is no call so great, no church so powerful, that the suffering of even one victim should be silenced.

  • Abuse might not always be sexual. It may be psychological. It may be physical. It may be financial. It may even be spiritual. Every victim deserves the chance to have their story heard, to have a chance to shake off the shame that does not belong to them, to transform from victim into survivor. One day maybe, the victor even.

  • Life is complex. People are complex. But our response to disclosures of abuse shouldn’t be. It should be to listen, not demand silence. It should be to help them gain healing, or help them gain closure or legal aid – whatever is needed. It should never be to cover it up.

We mustn’t fall into the trap of judging all Catholic priests as deviants, as this is not the truth. Lets also remember that sometimes sex offenders are charming, smart, and able to make positive contributions to society in many ways. The crime does not negate the good, but it makes it more complex to reflect on. It does make the abuse more confusing, and potentially more difficult to disclose. I understand that Tony Abbott and John Howard may have seen the good in George Pell and thought that because he was good in so many ways, he couldn’t commit crimes in others. I understand that George Pell may have had a positive influence on many a life. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t guilty of the crimes for which he has been tried.

Recently, a jury found him guilty – beyond reasonable doubt. He is an offender. But he is also a symbol. Even if you are at the peak of your industry or institution, even if your industry is representing God, you can’t abuse children and vulnerable people. The end does not justify the means.

It never ever does. Let’s not be the ones who double down on our denial. Things are coming to light right now, across industries and institutions. It’s a moment where we can collectively grow and learn how to be a safer, better society. Let’s lean into that evolution.

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