To simplify my analysis of them, I’ve chosen to focus on the six problems I think are the most serious, but these are by no means the only ones.

1. Findings are not automatically sent to a complainant.

Given that the process essentially requires that one or more victim/survivors take on the role of plaintiff (“complainant”), one clear measure of balance and fairness is that both parties, the plaintiff and defendant (usually referred to by the MFC as “minister”) should be guaranteed that they will receive written copies of the findings in their case.  Instead the policies are clear that ministers should receive them, but murky about complainants.

For example, Policy 19C says: “Written confirmation of a resolution agreement shall be sent to the minister within 14 days…. Additional copies may be sent to other persons or institutional representatives as deemed appropriate by the MFC.”

I suspect most people wouldn’t think much about this — assuming the MFC is reasonable and will of course send the findings to the complainant.  And, in fact, that’s the trap complainants fall into.  But the MFC has not sent any  of the complainants I know a copy of the findings in their cases, and some of those cases are relatively recent.

2. There is no appellate process for a complainant.

While the minister has the right to appeal a decision to the Board of Review, no such process is in place for complainants.  Of course how can a complainant appeal if they don’t have a copy of the findings?

3. Only the minister and Good Offices Person meet with the MFC.

In a just system, when a defendant is permitted to appear before the adjudicatory authority, the plaintiff is given the same right.  However, the MFC Policies and Rules say things such as: “[T]he minister may be invited to meet with the Executive Committee of the MFC and is expected to be accompanied by a UUMA Good Offices person in Final Fellowship. The cost of meeting with the Committee will be borne by the Committee.”  (Policy 19C)  No such opportunity is given complainants.  Typically the complainant doesn’t even know if or when the minister is meeting with the MFC, let alone have a chance to participate in the meeting.

4. While the minister has the Good Offices person, complainants are not accorded commensurate support.

In the 2001 Recommendations of the Safe Congregation Panel, the first and “highest priority” recommendation was “the development and implementation of an advocates program.”  Instead complainants are sometimes assigned what is called a “liaison.”  While it’s better than nothing, a liaison is a very different concept than an advocate.  And while the Good Offices person is specified in writing in the policies, there is no mention of any type of support for complainants.

5. It is unclear in either the policies or rules how conduct unbecoming is determined — what criteria are used.

In the past, my understanding was that the definition of conduct unbecoming was based on the UUMA’s Guidelines. (A side note: if the UUMA guidelines are used, they also have problems, but that is a subject for another post.) Whatever they use needs to be clearly articulated somewhere in the policies or rules. How can you judge conduct unbecoming in any except the most egregious cases if you don’t have a benchmark?

6. It is possible for a defellowshipped minister to be readmitted without informing the complainant.

Policy 23 #1 says: “The MFC shall review such application and determine whether or not to readmit the minister to Fellowship, or to require further consideration of the application subject to conditions which the MFC shall prescribe.” It appears that based solely on what a former minister writes in one form, a later incarnation of the MFC than the one that judged the original case can — presto — reinstate someone who has sexually misconducted him or herself.   In other words, the policies favor cronyism.

As should be clear from the above, the polices are heavily weighted in favor of the defendant minister.  Thus the likelihood of revictimization for a survivor is high, while the likelihood of justice is low.

This is not a new problem.  Nor is it a minor problem.  Eleven years ago, in 2001, the Safe Congregation Panel specifically recommended: “The Ministerial Fellowship Committee (MFC) review its procedures to ensure that language and process provide respect, safety, and ease of use for complainants. The Committee consult with former complainants in reviewing procedures.”

Given how disrespectful, unsafe and complicated the policies remain, it’s clear the MFC has either failed to consult with former complainants or has completely disregarded their feedback.

Moreover, the Board is complicit.  Ultimately the policies of the UUA are the Board’s responsibility. And they too have had over 10 years to fix these problems.

Thus both the MFC and the Board have failed victims of UU clergy sexual misconduct. In so doing they have failed to ensure safety in congregations. In other words, the senior leaders of the UUA have failed all Unitarian Universalists throughout our country.

In failing to provide a fair system to adjudicate cases of UU clergy sexual misconduct, they have not only failed complainants, they have failed to live up to UU principles. There is not one scrap of justice, equity or compassion for victims in the MFC policies.

But for today, I keep remembering the senior leadership I care about. I have deep respect for their other work and wish them well. It’s not really surprising if you think about it. We have much in common. In particular, we care passionately about our faith.

So this post is for you, the senior leadership I hold in my heart. I can’t stop thinking of what Joe Paterno said: “This is a tragedy. It is one of the great sorrows of my life. With the benefit of hindsight, I wish I had done more.”

Given what I’ve seen, it’s easy for me to imagine you in his shoes. I care about you. I care about our faith. I hope you will do the right thing before it’s too late.

On uua.org you will find two pages that look relevant. Let me walk you through these pages and share some of what I know.

Page 1: UUA Safe Congregations

Screenshot 1: Click for enlargement

The first is “UUA Safe Congregations” at www.uua.org/safe/.

The second sentence on this page says: “The Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA) has been a leader in creating both resources and recommended processes to help make congregations safe and welcoming places to all.“  (#1 in the screenshot.)

It’s likely that this will sound reasonable to you. The UUA can be an inspiration in many areas, including feminism, GLBT issues and sexuality. Ergo they ought to be good at safety — in particular addressing clergy sexual misconduct. Unfortunately this simply isn’t true. As I’ve blogged about in the past, they have terrible track record. In other words, it’s misleading — a false reassurance to a person badly in need of real support. It also lacks humility — a quality UUs could probably use in general, but is particularly necessary when addressing misconduct.

Further down the page (#2 in the screenshot) you’ll find a link to “Complaints of Professional Misconduct.” That’s good and helpful. However, the second sentence describing the link says that, “The UUA’s system for responding to complaints of professional misconduct is grounded in principles of restorative justice and reconciliation.”

This goes back to the report of the Safe Congregations Panel and the Rev. Fred Muir in 2001. They recommended restorative justice instead of retributive justice. I should know.  I’m the one who brought this approach (which at that time was mostly used in criminal cases) to the panel’s attention.

But the UUA has never really implemented these recommendations. They say they’ve made changes and I’m sure they have, but they must just be tokens. I can’t find any that reflect the spirit of the 2001 recommendations. That failure is what started me blogging in the first place.

I don’t know anything about Heather Bond (the person named on this page as author and resource) and it’s quite possible that she does what she can to help. But justice can’t depend on the kindness and good intent of one person. It has to be written in to the system. And from what I’ve seen in years since 2001, there’s no justice of any kind — restorative or retributive — for survivors.  So it’s a second false reassurance.

Page 2: Process for Handling Complaints of Misconduct in your Congregation

Screenshot #2: Click for enlargement

Clicking on “Complaints of Professional Misconduct,” you come to the second page, which has a different title than the link. It’s “Process for Handling Complaints of Misconduct in your Congregation.” (www.uua.org/safe/misconduct/ – #3 in the second screenshot.) This may sound minor, but these are not just any Web pages. They represent a gateway to healing from very serious damage. Many potential complainants have left their congregation, if not UUism altogether. Does this mean you have to be part of the congregation where the misconduct happened? If so, all a misconducting minister needs to do is drive a person out of the congregation — something that’s usually quite easy for an unethical minister to do. And what if you are only a counselee who isn’t a member of the congregation? Is it okay for a minister to abuse you?  Then there are ministers who don’t serve congregations, like an army chaplains.  What about them?  And so on.

Going on to the first paragraph, it says: “Unlike many other religious bodies, the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA) is an association of member individual and independent congregations. The role of the UUA is to provide support to its member congregations. It does not govern them. In our tradition of congregational polity, each member congregation has the power to ordain, call/hire, supervise and dismiss ministers and other staff; and to do so independently of the UUA. It is the congregation, not the Association, that takes responsibility for regulation of its own policies and staff.”

It appears that what they’re really saying is, “Misconducting ministers are not our responsibility.” This is nonsense. It’s irresponsible and misleading to give such prominence to congregational polity, while omitting the fact that the UUA’s Ministerial Fellowshipping Committee (MFC) credentials ministers and that they have the power to “defellowship” (the UU equivalent of disrobe) and censure ministers.

Yes, congregational polity is a difficult aspect to deal with, but the UUA also has the ability to send staff to help work with congregations where the minister is found guilty of conduct unbecoming. They have significant power to influence.

They also have the power to say a congregation is no longer a part of the UUA. It’s a power that as far as I know has only been exercised once – in an Atlanta congregation when it was judged too racist. But I dare say if there was a congregation who insisted on keeping a defellowshipped pedophile in the pulpit, the UUA would find a way to say they no longer belonged to the association.

Scrolling further down the page, past things unlikely to be of any help to a survivor trying to understand his or her options, you come to “The Process.” (#4) This section starts inauspiciously with a confusing paragraph in parentheses — apparently a misplaced footnote.

The first real paragraph introduces “The UUA intake person.” It does not say who this person is, nor does it link to a page outlining their qualifications. This is not good.

Much more concerning, however, is that this person “has the discretion to refer matters not suitable for adjudication by the Ministerial Fellowship Committee (MFC), to other resources.” (#5) That’s not just discretion. This person has significant power over a victim or survivor of misconduct. When the allegation is ministerial sexual misconduct, why is it not automatically referred to the MFC?

The MFC is responsible for de-credentialing. Yes, the MFC is busy. And of course there are specious complaints. But those are not reasons sufficient to abrogate its power and responsibility to some unnamed staff person. The potential at this point for sweeping under the carpet — silencing victims — is significant.

The process explanation continues with: “The UUA Intake Person hears the complaint, provides information on the process and responds to questions from the complainant. Once the complainant decides to make an official complaint, the complaint is then referred to the UUA Consultant.” (#6) It’s interesting to note that in these two sentences, the word “complaint” and its derivative “complainant” are used five times. “Allegation” is a more appropriate term for matters such as sexual abuse or assault. The word “complaint” minimizes. It sounds a bit like whining. And typically the term “complainant” is paired with the term “religious professional.” In other words, the UUA’s process suggests these are cases of whiners vs. ministers.

Then there’s the UUA Consultant referred to in these sentences — another mystery person with significant power. (See #7a and #7b.) In the parenthetical directly under “The Process” header, he or she is defined as “an external consultant or the Director of Ministry and Faith Development.” So it could be anyone. In theory, the UUA could hire Cardinal Laws as their external consultant. Obviously that would never happen, but the point is that it should never even be a possibility. This person should be a well-credentialed UU who has the trust of both ministers and survivors of UU CSM — and this should be abundantly clear on this page.

The process then continues with yet a third mystery person: the “complainant ‘liaison’” (#8) It does not say who appoints them, what the qualifications are for this job, how they will function, or if the complainant has any say in their choice. In the original 2001 recommendations, an “advocate” for survivors was called for. This was to balance the “Good Offices Person” for an accused minister. I gather a “liaison” is the UUA’s watered-down version of an advocate.

The last few paragraphs actually have some overlap with the MFC policies. It’s surprising that at that this point there isn’t a link to the policies themselves. It’s unlikely that a survivor unfamiliar with the workings of the UUA and MFC would know to look for them.

I wonder why this omission? One possibility is they think them too confusing and so this page is in an attempt to clarify. If so I’d say they have failed utterly — making a grueling and byzantine process even more confusing. Another possibility is that the MFC is accustomed to complainants not having easy access to its policies and thus not questioning them, and so this is a sub-concious attempt to retain this old power over information.

Whatever the reason, the good news is this is the Policies 2.0 age. Not only can you find the MFC’s Policies (www.uua.org/documents/mfc/policies.pdf, Section 19 in particular), but you can find ways to comment on them.  For my next post I plan to do just that.

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.

Has anything changed in the way UUs address sexual misconduct by clergy? I still follow what’s happening, and sad to say that, to my knowledge, nothing of any significance has changed in the intervening years.  Would that it were otherwise, but I still strongly recommend that victims of sexual misconduct not file a complaint with the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA).

A couple of things have come up.

First, I emailed the Faith Trust Institute to bring them up-to-date. To my surprise and sorrow, I learned that, due to budget challenges, they no longer have the capacity to do individual advocacy for victims. Because of this, I must retract my recommendation that victims of UU clergy misconduct contact them.

The question now becomes what to advise victims instead? Ultimately, I’ve learned that this question really is what’s the least bad choice. There are no good choices.

Of course, the experience of being a victim varies. With the Faith Trust Institute no longer being an option, I’m more concerned about over-generalizing. Still, given the current realities, I doubt filing a formal complaint with the UUA is going to be the best choice for anyone. A few years ago, it was different, and it could change again, but it seems most unlikely that that will happen any time soon. If it does, I expect you will know. It will probably be accompanied by another apology on the order of the one issued at General Assembly 2000.

Assuming a formal complaint is not a viable option, then what can a victim do? I would suggest a series of things. First off, and I hate to say this, but be very cautious about whom you trust, particularly within your congregational and faith communities. Second, find the rape crisis center or domestic violence shelter nearest you. While hopefully it isn’t rape or domestic violence you have experienced, nonetheless they are likely to know the best resources to help you. For example, they can probably advise you on attorneys to contact.

Speaking of lawyers, this is a topic I’ve tiptoed around, because of not wanting to be adversarial. However, it’s a virtual certainty that you will need protection, particularly if you are going to do the responsible thing and let the association know that a particular minister has abused their position.

While it should not be that you are attacked and undermined, that’s really the whole point of this blog. The fact is that’s been the experience of every other victim of UU clergy misconduct whom I’ve known. The particulars have varied over the years, but that much is consistent. And for most of us, this subsequent reality has been much worse than the original abuse.

The other big impediment to hiring an attorney is the cost. But think of it as an investment in your happiness and quality of life. It’s as if your house burned down. Yes, insurance should pay everything, but no it won’t. And just because you are hiring an attorney doesn’t mean you are committing to suing anyone. You’re just doing a responsible job of exploring your least bad choices.

The second thing is that several of you have asked me not to take this blog down. It came as a big surprise to me. You really touched me, and I’m very grateful. If I’m hearing you correctly, you are saying to just shut the comments off and stop updating it, but leave it up.

While not wanting to be adversarial is my primary motivation, there are also some personal things that lead me towards taking it down. Some of this is private, but one of those things may be good to talk about a little more.

That’s how this work has again become a shackle for my heart (for lack of a better word). It certainly wasn’t when I began the blog. I wouldn’t have started it if I’d known this would happen.

These days I frequently recall one of the teachers (and a fellow survivor) at the Marie Fortune retreat I attended. She said with great passion, “Don’t let them steal your spiritual practice from you.” By “them” she meant not just the perpetrators, but also the system.

Dear readers, I feel a call to let go and watch the wild geese head home. I want to touch the starlight, laugh with friends, and do what I am good at. I will leave comments on for a few more days, then shut them off, and heed the call of my heart.

The time has come to take this blog down, and so I will be doing that in the next few days.

When I began it, I had thought that the problems at the UUA were less serious than in fact they are. I had hopes that things were turning a corner – that there was about to be dialog and progress on addressing clergy misconduct.

Unfortunately, almost every month I get more bad news. It puts me in a position where I can only be adversarial, and that was never my intent. I’m glad to help if those who have power want to listen, but I don’t want to fight.

If there’s one thing I hope you take away from this blog, it’s an understanding of how dangerous the current process is for those who have already been hurt by a UU minister. Please spread the word as you are able.

I wish it weren’t so, but for the foreseeable future, I would strongly recommend that victims of sexual misconduct not file a complaint with the UUA. Instead, I would suggest contacting the Rev. Marie Fortune’s Faith Trust Institute. [8/18 update: the Institute can no longer assist individuals. Please see the Postscript for more information.]

Finally, I wanted to say thank you to the many people who have been supportive of this blog, this very difficult work and me. I am grateful beyond words.

My life is a happy one. I’m very lucky and I know it. I pray that some day things will improve for other victims of UU clergy misconduct. And may all of you find wonderful, healthy congregations and ministers, and may your religious lives flourish.

Wouldn’t a Chief Apology Officer be a great position at the UUA? Not a fun job, of course, but what a ministry. I suspect they’d easily recoup their salary in grateful donations from those who feel heard, rather than disenfranchised. And if Southwest Airlines can do it, surely we can too?

Don’t get me wrong. It was a wonderful service and sermon. Just very hard. It’s all context isn’t it?

I used to take this idea so earnestly – basically still do. But does the UUA? Or the MFC? When faced with a report of sexual abuse by one their ministers? The sad truth is, of course, that, No, they don’t.

Should UUA leaders read these words, I expect they will be offended. And I’m sorry for that. That’s certainly not my intent. But that’s the thing with saying yes to truth, isn’t it? The truth isn’t always what we want to hear. I’m sadder than words can ever say that some in our ministry abuse their power so heinously. But I’m even sadder that those who have the courage to speak this truth are treated as badly as they are.

One other thing from today’s service… Did you know the reason adults finally started seeing Snuffleupagus on Sesame Street happened in the wake of a string of high profile stories about pedophilia? I had no idea. The writers were concerned that by having adults refuse to believe Big Bird, despite the fact that he was telling the truth, they were scaring children into thinking that their parents wouldn’t believe them if they had been sexually abused and that they’d be better off remaining silent.

Go Sesame Street! How I wish victims of UU clergy misconduct could speak. But we’re better off remaining silent. One happy thought: I guess this makes me Big Bird. And how I love Big Bird. But won’t you take me back to Sesame Street?

But this morning I turned on the TV and there was a woman just a little younger than me trying to talk to the press and crying. She was so clearly reliving bits and pieces of the horror. She was quite upset, and I was with her. I expect in some measure she is happy and relieved, but the cost is so unimaginably huge. If it were me, when facing the press I would be reliving the horror of not having been heard in the past. Why does it take lawyers and the press to be believed and listened to? What does this say about our religions? What does this say about us?

I bet that’s it. That’s usually it when I talk to others who have gone through this. UU, Catholic, Episcopalian, Buddhist, male, female, straight, gay, young, old. It doesn’t matter. It’s all the same. It’s not being heard by leadership that is the worst — much worse than the original horror. And then, the next day, I would feel so very trapped in that reality. That’s what breaking the silence does. It traps you there, paralyzing the other parts of your life. I pray for her sake and all the others courageous enough to speak their truth that now they may truly and completely lay this burden down. I pray that the burden will now and forevermore be shouldered by those with power.

And I pray that our faith knows and understands that there, but for the grace of God or sheer dumb luck, go we. Our procedures are in shambles and our leadership does not listen to victims. Just read the policies. It’s quite clear whom they listen to. It probably isn’t malicious, but it doesn’t matter. In a way, that makes it even more devastating. You can bet if the press ever talked to me (please God no), that I would cry my way through talking about UUs hating me for simply speaking the truth — about how it damaged my life, my family’s life, my children’s lives and my congregation’s life.

Bear in mind I’m part of a success story. I won, my family and congregation are thriving, and still, I sit here aching to my core. It’s because of how more recent victims of UU misconduct have been treated. Our leadership is no longer listening.

So I also pray for UU humility. I pray that our leadership has the grace not to feel, much less act, superior to the Catholic leadership. In my most hopeful moments, I hope they connect the dots and realize that Cardinal Mahoney is their face. And the woman crying? She’s the face of all congregations damaged by misconduct.