Breaking the Silence Redux

Dear Friends,

It is with both joy and trepidation I reopen this blog. What gives me the strength to resume is my amazing congregation. In recent months I’ve discovered that many of its members are willing to bear witness for victims and survivors of UU clergy sexual misconduct (CSM). And my hope is they are not the only ones.

It began last fall. Thanks to the support of my ministers, I had the opportunity in October to give a sermon on forgiveness and the UUA. I spoke only briefly about my own experience, because that was many years ago, and my sense has always been that the UUA staff and Ministerial Fellowshipping Committee (MFC) were doing the best they could. So while the process was grueling enough to turn my hair white, of course I forgave them.

Instead the sermon’s focus was on the last 10 years.  As best I can tell, since 2001 the process for handling complaints has become, if anything, more inhumane.  There is no longer any excuse for it. As one member said afterwards, “You can’t excuse the inexcusable.”

While my history is no secret around the church, I’ve never talked about it from the pulpit. It was frightening to relive these difficult memories in front of so many people, but when at last I looked around, to my surprise I could see quite a few crying. And afterwards, the outpouring of understanding, compassion, and support … to this day I can’t find words adequate to express my gratitude.

On a more practical level, I learned that what’s most needed is talk about it. Most people in my congregation had assumed things were fine. And how could it be otherwise if no one says anything to the contrary? But in just 20 minutes they learned otherwise. Of course, that’s my congregation where I’m well known, plus our senior minister did the first few minutes of the sermon, so trust was high.

But there are also the facts.  Chances are they are enough for a reasonable person outside of the system — if they know about them.  Afterwards our chair of Social Justice, asked: “What can we do next?” We talked about a number of possibilities, but I didn’t connect the dots to this blog for some time.

Then two weeks ago, I went to an anti-racism workshop at church. During the final segment, the UUA consultant had us build a sculpture with four pipe cleaners — each representing one of our identities. Later she asked us to imagine having our church identity removed. Many expressed how difficult this would be for them, but me? The instant she asked, I felt a rush of pure relief.

Over the next few days, I kept asking myself why? Like many people, I’m stretched thin by a variety of commitments. But that wasn’t it. I realized that (to my knowledge) I’m the only survivor of UU clergy sexual misconduct who speaks up.  I’ve never thought of it this way before.

I’m also, to my knowledge, the only survivor of UU CSM who has widespread support — my ministers, our director of religious education, old friends, new friends, family, other UU ministers around the country, and now the better part of a good-sized congregation.

Compare that to other victims and survivors of UU CSM. The overwhelming majority have either left Unitarian Universalism or hide their history. And they have good cause. The risks of speaking up are enormous: marriages broken, careers destroyed, public humiliation, and so on.

Put this all together, and a few days ago it dawned on me that I have a moral obligation to speak out. Victims and survivors of UU clergy sexual misconduct have got to have a voice. If those of us who can speak up don’t, will the UUA leadership ever do the right thing? Who else will hold their feet to the fire?

And so I blog again, with deepest gratitude for all of you who stand with survivors.