The #metoo Reckoning: Facing the Church's Complicity in Sexual Abuse and Misconduct

I really enjoyed reading this book, especially since I got the book a whole three months before it came out. It's a book that I wish was out now.<br /><br /><b> <u>SUMMARY</u> </b><br /><br />This book is primarily about how the church handles (and sadly, helps) sexual abuse cases, particularly those that happen at/in the church by church leaders. Everhart pulls from both previous experiences (and testimonies from others) and scripture as she intertwines them. Her thoughts on the story of Tamar and Bathsheba are both worth the cost of the book alone.<br /><br />At the end of the book she gives some helpful advice to both Christians and churches on how to both handle reported abuse cases and how to better prevent sexual abuse from happening.<br /><br /><b> <u>THE GOOD</u> </b><br /><br />There is a <b>lot</b> to love in Everhart's book. My favorite parts (outside of the Bible sections mentioned above) was how well this book teaches the subject of <i>grooming</i>. It's not a thing that's often deeply and well explained, but Everhart explains it well, usually with personal story. <br /><br /><b> <i>Note:</i> </b> I would read her other book <a href="https://goodreads.com/book/show/28075716.Ruined" title="Ruined by Ruth Everhart" rel="noopener">Ruined</a> first. While I liked this book better, her previous book gives a lot of color to this book that I feel is important. Everhart can't add everything from that book into this one, but it's important to read. I mentioned <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1969781745" rel="nofollow noopener">in my review </a>of <a href="https://goodreads.com/book/show/28075716.Ruined" title="Ruined by Ruth Everhart" rel="noopener">Ruined</a>:<br /><blockquote>I think this is a book that everyone should read, if nothing more than to better understand the mental affects of rape.</blockquote><br />I can't state how important that understanding is.<br /><br />But the breakout chapter is the one on "Purity Culture &amp; Rape Culture". Here are some quotes:<br /><blockquote> "This is the simplest indicator of rape culture—that, given the opportunity, it is considered normal for men to rape women."<br /><br />"Rape culture mandates that women and men have very different sexual responsibilities. The assumption is that it’s normal for men to rape women, which means that victims are to blame. By her action (or inaction) a woman creates an opening that allows a man to do what’s perfectly natural for him to do—assault her. "<br /><br />"More precisely, what David did with Bathsheba is an abuse of his power. David exploited the enormous power differential that existed between men and women in general, and between himself and any vassal, in order to have sex with a particular woman. The word for that crime is RAPE."</blockquote><br />This book constantly challenged my views and gave those views <i>faces and stories.</i> You won't finish reading this book in one piece. Everhart's point is the same one I often state: we are <b> <u>not</u> </b> getting this right.<br /><br />The preface for this book showed more love and care than most entire books on women do. It touched me.<br /><br /><b> <u>THE CHALLENGES</u> </b><br /><br />When I reviewed <a href="https://goodreads.com/book/show/28075716.Ruined" title="Ruined by Ruth Everhart" rel="noopener">Ruined</a>, the only problem I really had with the book is how often the author asserts; meaning when her feelings or the story (her experiences) dictated her theology. I think they can <i>inform</i> theology, but not <i>dictate</i> it. <br /><br />However, this book is mostly free of it. The only challenge I had was with the introduction, which acts as a "this is who I am and what I believe" section. I was worried that the whole book would be like this (and therefore more similar to <a href="https://goodreads.com/book/show/28075716.Ruined" title="Ruined by Ruth Everhart" rel="noopener">Ruined</a>). However, once Chapter 1 started there were no issues. Everhart and I have distinctly different theological convictions, though not as many as some might think. While I felt the introduction could've been less assertive and the tone better, it's such a small detail that I would encourage everyone to read it and engage with it. I actually <b>loved</b> that she honestly told the reader her theological stances <i>before</i> starting the book. <br /><br /><b> <u>CONCLUSION</u> </b><br /><br />Books like this need to be written and they also need to be read. Much of the church is cold or lukewarm in response to the troubling issue of sexual abuse in the church. Everhart writes early on:<br /><blockquote>"The remedy to being lukewarm is to add some heat: reproof and discipline."</blockquote><br />She's right. This book should be a welcome critique from the church to the church. I hope we read it as such and take it to heart.<br /><br />Five stars.<br /><br /><i>Side-note to my Reformed followers: How many books do we have to read before we realize that there are certain beliefs and connections in our reformed theology that allow for abusers and racists to stay hidden and thrive?</i>

I wrote the following endorsement for this important book: <br /><br />"Individual bodies can't heal until they receive a diagnosis. Likewise, the body of Christ can't heal until it learns what is making it sick. With bold storytelling and deep engagement with the biblical text, Ruth Everhart diagnoses the unchecked power, patriarchy, and shallow forms of forgiveness that plague many Christian communities grappling with abuse. She also points to the cure: a better, more biblical practice of justice for victims. May this book ensure that more victims' cries for justice are finally heard." <br />

This book needed to be written. I was triggered, not gonna lie...<br />What courage for the author to tackle such a sensitive topic, and shed light into the dark places.<br />In a time where the church and evangelical Christianity want to label the #MeToo movement as <br />a leftist sociopolitical stance, Ruth Everhart brings to the forefront of the conversation just how<br />complicit the church is in allowing our safest spaces to become a breeding ground for predators. <br />If this sounds like an indictment against the church, it's not. She loves the church, and she continues to <br />serve as a clergywoman. Her indictment is against predators, and against our habit as Christians to excuse and bury criminal behavior in our midst, under the guise of sloppy grace and with the motive of self-preservation. Ruth Everhart has taken up the mantle we should all take up as Christians - to care for those who have been victimized, and to protect the flock within the safest space we all love - our churches.<br /><br />Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for permission to review this galley copy.

I wrote this book to call the church to account for its lousy response to the sexual abuse that occurs within its walls. To read about how and why I wrote it, check out my website, <a target="_blank" rel="noopener nofollow" href="https://rutheverhart.com/about-ruth-everhart-author-pastor-writing-about-sexual-abuse-and-jesus/">https://rutheverhart.com/about-ruth-e...</a>

I just finished reading an advance reader copy of Ruth Everhart's "The #MeToo Reckoning: Facing the Church's Complicity in Sexual Abuse and Misconduct," published by InterVarsity Press. It is, by turns, a slap in the face, a kick in the rear, and a shoulder to cry on. It publishes on January 14, 2020, and I highly recommend church leaders to read it.

I will try to write a fuller review once I’ve had a chance to process this book more. <br />This should be required reading for all seminarians, pastors, denominational leaders, and really anyone in a position of church leadership (lay or ordained, volunteer or staff). <br />I cannot imagine a more excellent handling of a more devastating topic.

<i>Summary: A discussion of sexual harassment and assault in the church, the impact on victims and the response of many churches more focused on institutional reputation than protecting victims and justice for the perpetrators.</i><br /><br />Ruth Everhart tells two #MeToo stories of her own in this book. In the first, she was raped at gunpoint in college. Part of her healing was testifying against her rapist, seeing him convicted and sent to prison. In many ways, the second incident was harder. Serving as an assistant pastor under Zane Bolinger, a respected senior pastor, she became the object of inappropriate attention, culminating with being forcibly kissed in her own office.<br /><br />The early chapters of this book use this incident to trace how the dynamics of sexual assault often play out in churches, beginning with the patriarchal power exercised by Bolinger in assaulting her. She describes her efforts to seek redress from the church's personnel committee, how they accepted the pastor's account that he had acted from "pure Christian love," burying the assault in pious language that protected the abuser and the institution. She concluded that she had to leave.<br /><br />Perhaps the most chilling part of this narrative was the subsequent consequences in her former church. It did not have to do with Reverend Bolinger, who was gone by this time, at least not directly. A young man had been sexually abused by a church member. Everhart describes the conspiracy of secrecy that followed that did not report abuse to the authorities or even to the congregation and that elicited a "confession" that failed to acknowledge responsibility. The culture created by Bolinger, one of autocratic leadership that covered over anything detrimental to the church's reputation continued. Healing only began with a process of bringing what had been hidden into the light, eventually resulting in the perpetrator's conviction, and a new policy for handling allegations of sexual abuse.<br /><br />Everhart then goes on to describe her efforts to bring Bolinger up on charges before the denomination and the mixed results that illustrate how such proceedings often try to bring healing without justice, that neglect the basic issue of sincere apology, and the preservation of power and institutions (including protecting the institution from legal exposure above protecting victims). Subsequent chapters detail the connection between purity culture and rape culture in the church, patterns of betrayal and deceit by perpetrators, not only on victims, but on manipulated church leaders, and the challenge, particularly for women, of finding a voice to speak up, to press for justice.<br /><br />Everhart interweaves biblical narrative with her own and others narrative. Abuses of power and sexual abuse run through scripture, in the stories of Tamar, of David and Bathsheba, and others. She shows God's concern for the victims, some incorporated into the ancestral line of Jesus. Everhart also speaks frankly and practically about what denominations and churches can do to care for survivors rather than institutions, from honest language ("rape" instead of "had sex with") to involving the whole church in how churches will respond to sexual abuse. <br /><br />There has been a #MeToo reckoning taking place in our culture, from exposing assault by physicians to gymnasts and other athletes, to movie moguls and political figures. The Catholic Church is paying huge damages for past abuses. Bill Hybels, longtime leader of Willow Creek Church, was forced to step down due to a pattern of improper sexual behavior. These are stories now being played out in many churches. Everhart's book ought to be a must-read for every church governance board. The church in the greatest danger is the one that says, "it won't happen here." Those are the ones that practice institutional denial when it does, including shaming, or shunting aside the survivors of abuse. Those are the ones that wittingly or unwittingly create a culture where abuse can continue unchecked--until the reckoning.<br /><br />Everhart does not want your church to be among these but rather among those who create brave and safe spaces where these matters are spoken of with candor, where survivors can find support rather than shame, where "brightline" policies are in place that discourage or identify potential abusers early, and if abuse occurs, it is made public and prosecuted, not covered up. This is a book filled with hope for survivors and gritty encouragement for leaders who are ready to set aside patriarchy and power for protecting and raising up the vulnerable, who are willing to expose the ugly underside of human behavior to Christ's truth and justice.<br /><br />________________________________<br /><br />Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

"[Y]ou know what instructions we gave you through the Lord Jesus. For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from fornication; that <b>each one of you know how to control your own body in holiness and honor,</b> not with lustful passion, like the Gentiles who do not know God; that <b>no one wrong or exploit a brother or sister in this matter, because the Lord is an avenger in all these things,</b> just as we have already told you beforehand and solemnly warned you. For God did not call us to impurity but in holiness. Therefore <b>whoever rejects this rejects not human authority but God,</b> who also gives his Holy Spirit to you."<br />1 Thessalonians 4:2-8 NRSV, emphasis mine<br /><br />Christian churches of every size, denomination, and theological bent have faced "complicity in sexual abuse and misconduct," as the subtitle of Everhart's book states. I hardly need state it myself. You can see it in the news, hear firsthand accounts from a friend, or experience it yourself.<br /><br />Everhart, a PCUSA pastor, experienced sexual harassment and assault in her ministry and suffered manipulation at the hands of church committees. She tells those stories here, and also relays the stories of other victims and church authorities in <i>Reckoning</i>. I appreciated the breadth of the stories she included. Not only did she share stories from the victims' points of view, but also from clergy who regretted their mishandling of problems in their church and changed course. Interspersed are passages from the Bible, stories that Everhart tells in parallel with the modern-day stories. These passages are the usual suspects (Tamar, Bathsheba, Jesus' interactions with women).<br /><br />Everhart could have let up on the Old Testament stories and tightly grasped passages from the pastoral epistles that speak directly to sexual abuse within the church (see 1 Thessalonians 4, quoted above, a "silver bullet" passage that is routinely ignored in church/#MeToo discussions). It's not that Everhart handles the stories badly, but that she could have made a much stronger case to the church by exploring passages that were written to, well, <i>churches</i>. The Old Testament stories are important, and so are the New Testament ones, but the pastoral epistles say so much about sexual abuse/misconduct, and they are often overlooked.<br /><br />For example, 1 Corinthians 5:1-2 contains Paul's astonishment that the Corinthian church has not banished a man for his sexual misconduct. "And you are arrogant!" Paul cries. "Should you not rather have mourned, so that he who has done this would have been removed from among you?" (1 Cor 5:2 NRSV). When I've heard this passage preached, there's often a sly patting-on-the-back that at least no one in <i>our</i> church is doing something so <i>yucky</i>! If anyone in our church was doing something <i>that bad</i>, we'd get rid of that person! Well, I doubt Paul would consider abuse of minors, or clergy assaulting other clergy, any less worse than whatever nonsense that man was doing. In 1 Thessalonians, he specifically called out "wronging" and "exploiting" church members, calling for the vengeance of almighty God on sexual abusers.<br /><br />This is the only "cancel culture" of which Paul approves: "For though absent in body, I am present in spirit; and as if present I have already pronounced judgment <b>in the name of the Lord Jesus</b> on the man who has done such a thing. <b>When you are assembled, and my spirit is present with the power of our Lord Jesus, you are to hand this man over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh</b>...Do you not know that a little yeast leavens the whole batch of dough? Clean out the old yeast so that you may be a new batch, as you really are unleavened." (1 Cor 5:3-7 NRSV, emphasis mine)<br /><br />Here, Paul clearly lays out a method that churches can follow to excise abusive members of their body, to pronounce judgment and cast out the member <b>in public assembly</b> for the sake of the church. This is a point that Everhart makes again and again, for herself and in commentary on others' stories. Often, "solutions" take place behind closed doors, in private. Paul clearly calls for censure in front of the whole church in 1 Corinthians 5, and in 1 Thessalonians 4 he states that sexual misconduct is a violation of God, not only of human law. Often in these situations, I've seen church authorities deflect to government law,* and sidestep any divine judgment on the wrongdoer. Clearly, God stands with survivors of sexual abuse and wreaks vengeance upon abusers, even if it is not vengeance we humans can fully understand.<br /><br />Everhart says many helpful things about repentance and reconciliation. "Forgiveness" and "reconciliation" are often churches' first goal, rather than telling the truth about what happened, seeking reparation for the wronged, and unqualified repentance from the wrongdoer. True biblical reconciliation can only happen after all of these things take place. Returning to the story of Tamar, I recall a powerful sermon I heard on a later passage, when David welcomes Absalom back into his family, but Absalom persists in his wrongdoing. David welcomed reconciliation, but there was no repentance or restitution, so the reconciliation failed completely. (Shoutout to Colin Smith for bringing the word that day!) There are a few situations in my own life where I long for reconciliation, but I know that no matter how much <i>I</i> forgive the wrongdoers, we cannot reconcile until they repent and make reparation.** This is part of the reason why asking a victim to forgive immediately after s/he reveals the truth is so cruel. The wrongdoer becomes a "victim" of the survivor's "unforgiveness," and repentance from the wrongdoer is rarely sought as stringently as survivors' forgiveness.<br /><br />All this being said, I heartily recommend <i>The #MeToo Reckoning</i> to laypeople and clergy alike. I think it would be a fantastic resource for lay leaders and church staff to go through together as they formulate plans for how to handle these sadly inevitable situations. My one complaint is that Everhart missed some key passages that would have made her argument even stronger.<br /><br />-----<br /><br />*Romans 13 (being subject to governing authorities) absolutely applies here, and churches must abide by the laws regarding sexual misconduct for this reason. However, churches often use this as a cop-out, neglecting their role in removing the wrongdoer from their midst, and leaving it all to the courts. Churches need to embrace legal justice and ecclesial justice, a point Everhart makes well and frequently. Ecclesial justice should look like ejection of a recalcitrant member, standing with the survivor rather than the abuser (as God does), and censure before the whole church.<br /><br />**Reparation is not always financial. A genuine apology may suffice. Apologies are part of reparation rather than repentance, because repentance takes place before God, in prayer and by changing one's ways. Only then is an apology genuine.

Calling this a good book is like calling radiation therapy "good." This was a hard book to read, painful to hear the stories embedded in it. At the same time, Everhart cannot help but hold out hope that healing is within reach, that the treatment can be effective.<br /><br />I pray the church will accept this sort of radiation treatment, and engage in the hard work of eradicating the cancer of abuse that has metastasized within its walls (across any and all denominations).

I read an advanced reader copy of this important book. The #MeToo Reckoning is an unapologetic examination of how church complicity with sexual abuse occurs and a loud call for churches to do everything within their power to stop it. <br /><br />Ruth rightly frames this book within the context of patriarchal norms and beliefs that declare women less than. She is correct when she insists no complementarian construction of man as a head and woman as sidekick can embody genuine equality. It is this way of thinking, no matter the fancy ways words are used to convince folks that “women are equal, they’re just different!” (so long as they follow the script), that emboldens men to exploit or assault women and strips women of their agency.<br /><br />In shockingly few pages, considering punch they pack, Ruth powerfully skewers purity culture and its gender dynamics that reduce women to their bodies, devaluing them as humans and priming them for exploitation. Throughout the text, Ruth deconstructs the policies, failures, sexism, willful blindness, church-speak, and clerical power that makes abuse within the church not only particularly heinous but also so difficult to effectively address. Abusers, we learn, are extremely good at blending in, at convincing. And the church’s desire to save face, rehabilitate the abuser, or trust its own internal processes are all doomed to endanger the vulnerable and inflict additional pain on the abused.<br /><br />I was thrilled to see trauma-informed care mentioned several times throughout the book. The evidence is there and this is a critical approach to handling sexual trauma. It also points to the need for churches to not rely solely on spiritual healing. Brains and bodies need healing too. <br /><br />This book is critical reading for anyone involved in church leadership, whether on serving on session, working in a church nursery, chaperoning a youth group, or preaching from a pulpit each Sunday. <br />