Category Archives: Justice

Jonah 4: Do YOU have a right to be angry about injustice? Jonah’s anger is not the problem…


Last Sunday I did something I rarely do (at least in the United States). I preached. In the sermon I explore Jonah’s anger and our anger about injustice. I point out that the problem is not that Jonah is angry but that he is hardened and blinded. And then I end with the good news about how God relates to angry people and what he does to injustice.

You can listen here: 

(recording by New Life Glenside, original here)

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Filed under "phil monroe", anger, Justice

Injustice of minorities at the hands of authorities: It begins with stories


In life we start with experience long before we can articulate reality. As we grow and mature we try to make sense of the world and our place in it. As we develop, we come to recognize that our experiences are always biased and in need of correction. Yet, no matter the need for correction, our experiences still shape us in powerful ways. Thus, if we are going to get a handle on the complex sociopolitical issues involved in the current distress of Black men being shot or mistreated by police officers, we need to start with their stories—not because these stories are all we have but because they are fundamentally shaping experiences for these men.

Full disclosure: I am lily white. While I am the father of two African American sons, I myself can never fully understand their experience. I have never felt that others are afraid of me solely based on the color of my skin. However, what follows may help majority readers prepare to listen to heart-breaking stories and to become a bit more aware of what it might be like to be a Black man in America.

Two personal stories first.

Since it is my blog, let me tell two of my own stories of interactions with authorities. First, many years ago I was driving my little VW late one Friday night through the rural pine barrens of New Jersey, on my way to a youth group retreat. I was by myself. At some point a car came up on my rear at a high rate of speed. I hoped he would pass me but he didn’t. After a few minutes, blue lights flashed. I was being pulled over. I checked my speed and was sure I had not done anything wrong. After stopping, I turned off my music, lowered my window and awaited the officer’s approach. With his bright flashlight in hand, he asked me if I knew why I was being stopped. I didn’t. He asked me to get out of the car. Now my heart started racing a bit. He told me I had been weaving (I’m sure I hadn’t) and whether I had been drinking (I know I hadn’t). He put me through my paces with touching my nose, walking in a straight line. Had I been doing drugs, he asked. Why were my eyes so bloodshot (hard contacts did that to me)? He asked me if I would allow him to search my car and to move to the back. He proceeded to take the next 15 minutes to rifle through my car: glove box, under seats, through my packed bag. The longer it took and the more silent he was, the more anxious I became. I found myself starting to panic. Why? I hadn’t done anything wrong. Intermittently, he would stop, shine the light on me and ask me quite gruffly, why I was anxious (which made me jump and become more anxious). At one point I put my hands on my head so as to get a bit more oxygen into my lungs–like you might do after running an 800 meter race. Finally, he stopped looking through my things and help up a small tube containing a tiny suction cup (used to removed a hard contact that had become stuck in the corner of my eye). What’s this? I tried to explain but stumbled over my words until I could show him out it worked. Abruptly, the officer told me he could give me a ticket for weaving and driving tired. He wouldn’t this time but he was going to follow me for the next two miles to a nearby convenience store where he expected me to stop and buy a caffeinated drink. Those two miles were the longest I’ve driven. I probably choked that steering wheel to death!

Thus ends my scariest interaction with American police. Not much of a scare really. It was, however, unnerving. I was not anywhere near home. I didn’t have any power. I hadn’t done anything wrong but was being suspected of many wrong things. You might argue that he was just doing his job but my experience was that I wasn’t believed when I gave my answers. Even though I passed the balance tests, I still wasn’t believed. I didn’t really have the right to refuse the search of my car even though the law said I did. He had all the power, I had none. I wasn’t really mistreated and went on my way no worse for wear. When I drove back by at the end of the retreat, I noticed being a bit on edge, looking around for police and being doubly sure I was driving in a straight line.

But stick with my story for just a minute more. Imagine further now that this happened on a semi-regular basis, maybe even only once a year. How would that shape my sense of self or my reaction to police anywhere? And what if the outcome were undeserved fines or handcuffs just to keep the officers safe? How would that influence my sense of place in the community, a place where evidently you are a cause of fear merely due to the color of your skin?

I did have another police interaction worth telling here. I attended a tiny bible college in Lenox, MA between 1984 and 1986. This school was situated on the edge of Tanglewood Music Center (summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra), a most beautiful and wealthy (and white) part of the state. Our study body, though small, was diverse with a number of students from the historic Twelfth Baptist Church in Roxbury, MA. One day, several of us decided to go play basketball at a local school. We piled into one of the Daye brother’s mammoth car. Likely there were 6 of us going to shoot hoops. What I know is that I was the only white person in the car, sitting in the back seat between two much larger African American men. On the way, (which couldn’t be more than 2 miles at the most) we were pulled over. No tickets were given but we were questioned as to where we were headed. What I most remember from this event is the questions I was asked. On several occasions I was ask, “Are you okay?” Taken off guard and, frankly, naïve to what he might be asking, I must have stammered out a yes. Either I was unconvincing or he couldn’t imagine why I would be with this group of friends. So, he asked at least 2 more times. As far as I recall, we went on to play basketball and never (sadly) spoke of that event. It wasn’t until later that I realized what the officer was asking and what message that spoke to my brothers–that they were a threat to me, that I must be there against my will.

Why and How to Listen?

In previous blogs I have covered the why and the how of listening to those who seem different from ourselves. Consider reading “Loving Your Cultural Enemies” and “On having Substantive Conversations about Race Relations.” Each of these short essays suggest the way forward is through listening and validating personal experiences because being heard, seen and understood tend to move us more quickly beyond simplistic diagnoses and blame-shifting. Think about the most recent argument you had with a family member. Did you make more progress debating or by acknowledging key points?

Try These Steps

  1.  Remember your own minority experience. Before you start listening to the stories of others, recall your own experiences of being different or objectified. Maybe it was the time you were the only one of your kind (e.g., a Baptist among paedobaptists, a man among women, an English speaker among non-English speakers, a democrat among republicans, etc.). While these minority experiences may have been a passing, superficial experience, they teach us about what it is like to feel like an “other.” Recall the experience and then try to imagine it happening every day.
  2. Read widely of minority experiences. Start here with Brian Crooks’ experience of growing up Black in Naperville, IL. Remember, our goal is not to verify a person’s facts so much as it is to understand that perspective. Look for the common threads of systemic cultural/racial blindness and/or oppression.
  3. Imagine how you would want others to respond if you had a story of mis-treatment by authorities. Likely, you would want to be believed and you might want them to ask how they could help. Work to name injustices without excuses, blame-shifting or “sin-leveling.” For example, just as you don’t ask a rape victim if she was wearing a suggestive outfit, you don’t ask a minority male if he was wearing a hoodie.

These are starter ideas to get ourselves immersed in the stories of others. Next we will consider what responsibilities we have when we learn of individual and systemic injustices.

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Filed under Abuse, Justice, Race, Racial Reconciliation, Uncategorized

Love your cultural enemies? Start with listening and validating their story


Cultural enemies are those who oppose our views about important aspects of life (faith, religion, identity, family, values, community, government, politics, etc.). Worse, many cultural enemies do more than oppose our way of life, they accuse us of the worst sort of behavior, that of hating and hurting others with our culture via systematic bigotry.

When we hear Jesus call to “love your enemy” (Matthew 5) what images of love come to mind with this kind of enemy? Not returning evil for evil? Not seeking revenge? While turning the other cheek is surely part of what it means to love the enemy, we know that love requires action as well–not just the absence of bad responses. 

What if our first action was to really listen to and validate the story of our cultural enemy? Might sound easy but it is not!

Consider Mark Galli’s recent short essay in the April 2016 issue of Christianity Today [link here: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2016/april/what-reconciliation-sounds-like.html%5D as he addresses the challenge when two opposing groups feel their story/narrative is not being heard by the other side. 

We experience daily clashing narratives from Muslims, blacks, Hispanics, Asians, whites, main liners, evangelicals, pro-choices, pro-lifers, gays, straights, men, women, elites, the poor–to name a few. 

Mark points out why listening is so hard. First he notes, 

…narratives define the conflict, name the antagonists, and spell out the resolution. Narratives are, of course, biased. They rarely lie about the facts, but they are selective in their use of them. 

Then, he says one of the more difficult things for us to embrace.

The truth does not lie somewhere in the middle, as we are wont to say, but on both ends. [For example,] The American experiment is a remarkable achievement of democratic governance, human rights, and free speech–and is riddled with hypocrisy and racism. 

Yet it is difficult to take seriously the narrative of the other. We fear that if we do, we’ll sabotage the value of our own narrative. 

And that is the reason why listening is difficult. To listen to the other means to give credibility to the other’s story. And if their story (which paints me or those like me as the enemy) has any merit, then maybe my story will not get any airtime. In fact, we probably already have evidence that our story has been marginalized or charicatured and so we rarely enter a conversation without a chip on our shoulder. 

 To listen to you, my cultural enemy, I have to relinquish my anxiety that I will not get the same opportunity. (This, by the way, is the most frequent challenge in conflictual marriages. If I listen to your hurts, it will diminish my right to be heard.)

Half-listening is not real listening. 

Faux forms of listening need to be named as they give the appearance of listening but actually leave all parties further apart. Galli points out mitigation as one tactic needing. Mitigation is in play when we say, “Yes, true, but you…” In this method we barely acknowledge some sin on our side but excuse it on the basis of a larger sin on their side. We point out their biases, straw-men, mis-characterizations, and sins that cause us to possibly do something wrong. In short, we listen so as to defend, excuse, blameshift, or explain. 

But true love for other requires a different response, one that moves beyond hearing to validating the story. 

True love requires that we listen and validate the narrative, even with its biases. We even go one step further to acknowledge where our own cultural narratives have been wrong, even if we think the wrong is small compared to the wrong on the other side. Can I listen and acknowledge (validate) their wounds, their experiences of injustice. 

Validation does not mean agreement on all aspects of the narrative. 

I once watched an academic presentation/debate between a biblical counselor and a psychologist from a different persuasion. They psychologist went first and detailed a long list of sins and failures of biblical counselors (in practice and in foundational beliefs). The biblical counselor then stood up and took the time to agree with the  psychologist. Without caveat, he agreed with the sins and mis-application of the bible. There was no defense. Instead, he even asked the psychologist if he had any personal negative history with biblical counseling. The psychologist told a rather personal history of harm to his own family many decades before. It provided an opportunity for the biblical counselor to apologize for that experience. Later, the counselor was able to talk about what he hoped biblical counseling would be known for and painted a picture that I think most in the room could value. But, none of that would have happened if the counselor didn’t set aside the temptation to defend or deflect criticisms that might have been little more then charicatures. 

Try it with your next conversation with a cultural enemy. Hear their story. Validate whatever portion holds some portion of the truth. Do it without a “but”. Be willing to consider the flaws in your own side even if the other will not do the same. Trust that God will make all things right (including our flawed culture) in due time. And trust that He will give you the time and space to speak truth (in love) to your cultural enemy. 

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Filed under conflicts, Cultural Anthropology, group dynamics, Justice

Seeking Justice After Abuse: Can we Make it Easier?


Seeking justice for self and others is a good thing. No, it is a “God thing.” This world was created to be just and one day it will be made right again. However, now we live in a world where justice is sorely lacking around the world. Even in the United States where the rule of law is paramount, justice is difficult to come by for certain segments of society and for those especially who are abused in secret.

We’re doing a bit better. Rape and other sex crimes are taken more seriously. Laws are changed to allow old crimes to be brought to trail. Notice that the movie Spotlight is in the theaters, highlighting the massive cover-up of church sex abuse crimes. Churches are now much more serious about protecting the most vulnerable in their midst–in part due to increased child protection measures required by law. Organizations like GRACE tirelessly provide prevention education.

You might think then that victims will find it easier to report their crimes and to pursue criminal justice. And I suspect the data would show that more do report their crimes now than twenty years ago. However, easier does not mean easy. Though this essay is nearly 13 years old, I recommend those serving victims (public and private mental health providers, ministry leaders, criminal justice providers) read Judith Herman’s review of some of the challenges of reporting physical and sexual assault crimes. Some of those challenges include

  • The humiliation of telling your story in a public and adversarial setting such as a trial (and telling it repeatedly with those who must question you)
  • The possibility that the perpetrator will use the system to intimidate and to terrorize
  • Being told that your case isn’t going to be taken up; being disbelieved when it is true
  • Being coerced by family not to report due to the perpetrator being a family member

What can we do to help?

Most readers probably do not work in the criminal justice system. Yet, there are many things we can do to help those who need justice.

  • Get educated. Check out resources provided by NOVA; know what abuse crimes are happening in your community; consider having law enforcement or a member of the District Attorney’s office come to a meeting with community and church leaders
  • Find out what laws need to be changed and communicate regularly with your political leaders
  • Become a victim advocate officially, or volunteer to go with a victim to his or her next court date
  • When injustice happens between members in a close community, consider how restorative justice practices might be beneficial for victim and offender
  • Mental Health providers can help prepare victims and their families for the challenges of going through the system
  • Teach on the matter of justice seeking in churches; show that the pursuit of it is central to the Gospel (James 1:27)

 

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Filed under Abuse, christian counseling, Justice, sexual abuse, Uncategorized

Treating a whole population with suspicion always ends badly


I’m currently reading Spectacle, the telling of the story of Ota Benga, a Congolese man held captive in 1906 at the Bronx Zoo and placed on display in the zoo’s monkey house. This tragic story reveals our ugly history where Americans, by-in-large, believed in the superiority of the White races. But in chapter five, the author talks about another incident, The Brownsville Affair, during that same year. It is this affair that I wish to highlight.

The Brownsville Affair

In late July of that year, there was an altercation between a black member of the infantry division and a white man. The white man was killed. A mob ensued and when it was over, three more lay dead. Fast forward a few weeks into August and suddenly a bartender (white) is killed. The suspicion is instantly laid on the infantry, despite their white officers reporting that every infantry member was in his bed at the time. Evidence was planted to try to incriminate the men. When the men were interrogated, they denied any involvement and of course could not say who had killed the bartender.

But the people of Brownsville continued to accuse the men. And the decision was made to castigate them all for a so-called “conspiracy of silence.” The decision went all the way to President Theodore Roosevelt who signed the order having 167 men dishonorably discharged as punishment for a crime they did not and could not have committed. Here Pamela Newkirk recount Roosevelt’s comments

Despite pleas from black leaders, including Booker T. Washington, Roosevelt would sign the order denying the men–who had been deprived of legal counsel or a hearing–back pay, pensions, and eligibility to serve in the future. Roosevelt, considered a racial moderate for his time, unapologetically defamed the innocent men, saying, “Some of the men were bloody butchers; they ought to be hung.”

Not until Nixon, did this injustice be made right (and then the “justice” did not include any form of restitution.

The Trajectory When We Dehumanize others

Notice the trajectory:

  • One person of a group (a minority group) does something wrong.
  • Later, another ambiguous thing happens and blame is laid at the feed of an entire population.
  • Facts are not sought out but evidence is created and “justice” delivered because “these people” are butchers.

Is it any wonder that such minorities don’t feel particularly warm feelings when thinking about national pride. How could they? We’d like to think we are well beyond the years that we would place a human in a zoo to be gawked at. Indeed, we are. We’d also like to believe we are well beyond the years where we would demonize and be suspicious of an entire population of people. We are not there yet. There might be people who are butchers among the innocent. So, let’s ensure they don’t remain among us and accuse them of a conspiracy of silence for not pointing the guilty out. Let’s keep them all out just to be sure.

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Filed under Christianity, Civil Rights, Good Books, Historical events, Justice, News and politics, Race

What can we do about the refugee crisis?


If you have any connection to the outside world you know that the Middle East, North Africa, and Europe is undergoing a refugee crisis of massive proportions. Syrian and Iraqi refugees are finding their way to Europe to try to escape the violence, hunger, and lack of basic resources resulting from ongoing conflicts in both countries. For years, Lebanon, Jordan, and Turkey have borne most of the brunt of the burdan from the crisis, but now refugees are risking their lives crossing the Mediterranean to Europe. What was a regional conflict is now a wider political and economic challenge. 

If you are like me you read the stories, see the pictures, dig into the complexities of the problem and end up feeling helpless or hopeless. Someone has to do something. But what? Is there anything you and I can do to help? We know we can pray and we know we can give money to aid organizations. However, I suspect we often fail to do either of these things because will my prayers or fifty dollars do anything, realluy? 

Can we do anything else? Here are a few things I think merit consideration as doing our part. They may not do anything at all in the big picture, but then again, they may help you take one more step, even if only helping you to pray more pointedly and persistently. 

  1. Choose to be continuously educated. It is easy to make sweeping generalizations about those who are fleeing violence, about those in host countries, about the various armed militias. Sometimes we are right but far too often we develop simplistic formulas for the problem and solutions. Read outside of your normal news sources. If you are in the U.S., check out the stories by BBC and Al Jazeera news corps. Especially look for news stories about the refugees, who they are and what they are looking for. Many journalists in this area tweet out their stories/blogs. Find them and read them. Don’t allow hopeless feelings keep you from bearing witness to the tragedies nor from calling on God to intervene.
  2. Study the Scriptures regarding the God who loves refugees, hears their cries (think Exodus) and his son who was himself a refugee (check out Matthew 2). What is God’s mind on caring for those who have nothing and who will cost us something if we do care for them? Too often we can become consumed with political and economic realities and forget that God’s word calls us to love immigrant and outsider among us. In doing so, challenge your common assumptions about how we should relate to Muslim outsiders. 
  3. Learn a lay-counselor trauma training model.  The American Bible Society has a program, Healing Wounds of Trauma. This program is Scripture-engaged, dialogical, lay-oriented, and cascade oriented. You can get trained by attending a low-cost equipping session (4-5 days) and then train others (hence the cascade effect). You do not need to be a counselor but plenty of counselors love this model because it is so easily transferrable. Translated and contextualized into many languages, you can teach in English and the participants can teach in their own communities in their own language. Wait, you migh think, I don’t know any refugees in my community. While there may not be any Syrian refugees (then again, there many well be!), immigrants and refugees are all around us. Find out who is serving them (e.g., Lutheran Social Services, World Relief, etc.) and see if you can use this materials with them. This particular program isn’t the only one out there but it is effective and budget friendly. 
  4. Of course, give and pray. Once you get connected to local refugee serving organizations, you will have a better sense of who is serving in your community and how your time, talent, and treasure could be used. 

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Filed under counseling, Justice, news, News and politics, Training, trauma, Violence

Love your neighbor? Love your enemies? What does this mean today? 


The greatest two commands for all christians: Love the Lord your God with all your heart…and love your neighbor as yourself (Mark 12:30-31). As Jesus says, “there is no greater command than these.”

Not hard, right? 

Wrong.

The Luke version of this story tells us that the one questioning Jesus about keeping the law follows up with a self-justification question: “Who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10:29). Like him, we want to know just who we have to love. But of course, just a few verses before (6:27, 35) Jesus tells us to love our enemies and to do good to them who hate us. So, whether enemies or neighbors, we are called to love both.

Let’s admit that some neighbors are pretty easy to love. Tomorrow I am leaving for Rwanda to love my Rwandan neighbors. But you know what, it isn’t a hard thing to do. Besides the 23 hours of travel to get there and being away from my family, I can’t say it is much sacrifice. I’m given far more honor there than I deserve. The weather, food, and company are hard to match. If love is a sacrifice, this is hardly love.  

Some neighbors are hard to love. They don’t treat us with the honor we think we deserve. They ask for things and don’t give back. Even worse, some neighbors hate us and seek to harm us.

Think for a minute: who do you find it hard to love? Is it a near (actual neighbor) person? A far person (a politician or person who represents an ideology you hate)? Have them in mind yet? Now think about what it means to love them. Since love is both doing things for someone and NOT doing evil to them, consider both the positive and the negative sides of your love. 

Here’s some examples: What does it mean to love ISIS fighters? Do we pray for them even as we highlight victim stories? What does it mean to love Barack Obama (if you are opposed to his presidency) or Donald Trump (if you are opposed to his desire to be president? Do we gloat at their failures? Getting closer to home, what does it mean to love a person on the other side of you in the Same Sex Marriage Supreme Court ruling or in the race debates? What does it mean to love the person who swooped in and took your parking spot? 

A Few Thoughts on What Love Means

Some might think that “love your neighbor/enemy” means never speaking up when wronged, never seeking justice, never making a stink. It does not. period. You can love your enemy even as you seek justice. Speaking the truth can happen…IF…it is done in love. So, what does speak the truth in love mean? 

  • Making sure that truth spoken is really true. Not exaggerating the flaws of the other; not engaging in slipperly slope argumentation. Straw men and exaggerations are not true. 
  • Making sure that love is the agenda for the truth. Speaking up for the sake of destroying a person’s career is not love. Though, speaking up to protect victims is love and to stop a person’s sinful behavior is also love.

Loving your enemy means being willing to forgive even before the forgiveness is sought. Of course, seeking and offering forgiveness does not mean justice and consequences for evil are not felt. But it does mean that I do not participate in an “eye for an eye” or vengence. As we remember, vengence is God’s to wield. 

Finally, loving your enemy is not merely avoiding revenge but requires us to “do good.” How do we seek the welfare and the peace of a city (or a person) who does not consider our needs or treat us fairly? 

Hard questions, but let us seek to be a community of people known for insane love of victims and perpetrators, willing to tell the truth and to see the prosperity of those who do not love us in return. 

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Filed under Abuse, Biblical Reflection, Justice, love

How does small-time tyranny last?


Tyrants use fear to control subjects. Thus, we understand how North Korean leader Kim Jong Un is elected by 100% of his constituency. To abstain or cast any other vote would be suicide. But since most do not live under such oppression we may wonder how individuals cave to lower-level tyranny here in democracies or locations where we have choice about who we vote for and where we live and work. Why do organizations allow dictatorial leadership? Can’t we all just walk away?

Thanks to one of my students, Dan McCurdy, I pass on this recording from This American Life about a “small-time” tyrant in an upstate New York school district. The story is about the dictatorial dealings of a facilities manager of the school district–not of a principal, teacher, or even a school board member.

How is it possible for one with so little power (so we would normally assume) could wield such power over employees? How could he set off bombs, fire individuals, vandalize homes, threaten others with harm, simulate sex, and more without getting fired?

How? It is simple. He was,

surrounded above and below, by people who looked the other way. (near the end of the above recording)

Why do we look the other way?

We look away for all sorts of reasons. Consider a few of them:

  • Fear that no one will come to our defense if we stand up to abuses (which of course will be true if no one else sees or responds)
  • Need to protect what we have (e.g., position, income, career, reputation, etc.)
  • Cover up own failings (e.g., if he goes down…I will go down)
  • Perceive benefits outweigh consequences (i.e., in this case, school board received lowered energy costs, fewer worker complaints)
  • The people who complain of injustice matter little to us
  • Believe psychological abuse does not really happen

In Anjan Sundaram’s Stringer, he describes the most powerful of dictators are ones who instill fear when present and yet also instill fear of what life might be when that person is gone.

What to do?

When we hear of crazy stories such as the one in the recording, we shake our head and imagine ourselves standing up to power, standing up for the little guy. Too often our imagination never see the light of day. So, how can we keep ourselves sensitized to injustice and ready to act for the good of the weakest community member?

  • Identify our current fears. Who has power over us? What does love and grace look like when responding to this power?
  • Identify places we have chosen safety over truth. Who can help us rectify this problem?
  • Identify those places where we have power over others. Who do we have power over? How do we wield it? Who has God-given us the responsibility to protect? Where do we need to give power back (when taken or used inappropriately)?
  • Fix eyes on how Jesus uses power. How does he wield it with those who have the most power? The least power?
  • Identify habits of cover-up. Where, for reasons of shame, guilt, or comfort do we cover up and present self as someone we are not?

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Filed under Abuse, Christianity: Leaders and Leadership, counseling, deception, Justice

Public responses to allegations of wrongdoing by your friends


You’ve seen the little clip: a person does something wrong and the camera crew films a neighbor–or family member–making a comment about the character of the person.

“He was a quiet boy, never caused any trouble.”

So, let’s say one of your good friends was accused of abuse of children. How would you respond to reporters (or bloggers asking for you to weigh in)? Should you speak? Stay silent? Would it matter if the friend was a regular Joe or a famous leader of a church? Would it matter if you were famous or in leadership? Would it matter if you both served on an important ministry together? Should you wait until the court case has finished or speak your mind about what you know even if the case is not completed?

This is the question that has been raging a bit regarding the ongoing complaints of clerical and child abuse (and now a civil lawsuit) against Sovereign Grace Ministries leaders. After many calls for colleagues of SGM leadership to speak out against child abuse as they had against Penn State, two different sets of public letters were published commenting on the cases.

You be the judge: would it have been better to publish this and this explanation or to remain silent?

It seems to me that silences and then explanations of any length rarely serve any good purpose. Those who wish for you to speak will not be happy you waited. Then when you speak, you are likely to say things that will say more than you intended and reveal more than you care to reveal. For example, if you point out the fact that civil lawsuits are notoriously hard to litigate, may arise from those desiring to receive monetary damages, may damage innocent reputations, you would be speaking the truth. All of these things are possible. But it is easy to reveal more than intended,

  • when you speak after a significant portion of the lawsuit has been dismissed, not on fact but due to missing a statute of limitations deadline
  • when you speak more sentences about questions of merit and only a few sentences about the need for justice for victims
  • when you raise doubts about civil allegations while you hide behind the fact that you are not finder of fact (AKA the judge or jury)

A better response?

Say something immediately or nothing at all.

Of course, it is ALWAYS easier to criticize and to offer hind-sight answers. I do not think that I am above protecting a friend. I suspect I would be tempted to act in just the same way. We want to protect those we know and love and to doubt those we do not know. But, consider for a moment, how this response:

Our friend has been accused of doing some very horrific acts (or failures to act). These are serious charges. We love our friend. These charges doe not seem to fit the man we know, and yet we know that anyone is capable of [sin/crime]. We will support him. And yet, our support does not hinder the need for truth, justice, and healing for all victims. We will be meeting with our friend and encouraging him to speak the truth, to admit any wrongdoing, no matter the risk to so-called reputation. We will examine whether we have any information that would help bring justice in this case and we will not hold this information back to protect our friend. If others have information, we implore you to bring it so that this case can be quickly concluded. We want you to know that we will not tolerate [sin/crime] in other leaders or ourselves. We serve the glory of God and not the glory of each other. We will not be making any further public comments until the case has concluded. This is a difficult time, please be in prayer for all those involved in this case.

Would that be enough? Probably not for some readers, especially if there were longstanding behaviors in question that suggest a system of cover-up. And yet, I think an early statement like this probably eliminates the firestorm that silence or blanket statements of approval create. Once the firestorm starts, there is almost nothing that can be done without a very simple, “we have erred in our silence.” Anything else will be an attempt to parse the silence and so any later words will be parsed by others…and found wanting.

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Filed under Abuse, Christianity: Leaders and Leadership, Justice, news, Relationships, Uncategorized

Thinking about justice: Starting from the wronged


At the Justice2013 conference here in Philadelphia. Yesterday’s pre-conference sessions included one by Nicholas Wolterstorff (professor at Yale) entitled, “My Story: Starting From the Wronged in Thinking About Justice”. He told of 2 experiences where he heard the stories of injustice (one in South Africa, the other from Palestinian Christians) and how these stories shaped his thinking about justice. He argues that starting from the position of the wronged changes how we think about justice. Here’s a few of his points:

  • We have reactive (retributive) rights and primary rights. Reactive rights are those that we have once we are wronged. Primary rights are those we always have (e.g., dignity). Most people think only about reactive rights or about justice in light of injustice.
  • In thinking about primary rights/justice, there are two common models: right order model (view that there is an external standard for order and rights (e.g., the bible); inherent rights (what one is due (equity, dignity) from merely being human).
  • Rights and fairness are connected but fairness or treating people equally is not necessarily justice. Some need more than others.
  • Justice and freedom are connected but autonomy as an absolute right is “justice for eagles and lions”, meaning only justice for the powerful. What about justice for those who have dementia, who are born without capacity to act? What if dignity is the foundation for justice?
  • Punishment as payback violates the biblical concept of “do not return evil for evil.” Thus, we must view punishment as connected to love (e.g., as a parent punishes a child to teach but not to pay them back for their evil action).

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