It seems that another head is about to roll in the ongoing
scandal of high profile men accused of the historical abuse of children and women,
even though the person in question has yet to be indicted, still less proved
guilty. These periodic revelations, whether or not they turn out to be true, affect
the way we think about high profile abusers. These men have become totem figures
representing all abusers, including those we may have known but still cannot perhaps name, even to ourselves.
Naming and shaming abusers (including those whose cases
are still pending) validates the suffering of their victims. Having ones
suffering validated is more than a matter of being believed. In cases of
historical abuse, finally being believed will probably do little to remove the
shame a victim still carries with them. In such cases there is invariably a subtext
of one kind or another largely put in place to help others, rather than the
victim, come to terms with the truth about the abuse. There is the idea that
the abuse took place so long ago, when times and social mores were different. This
particular subtext generates a fear of the damage which speaking the truth
about historic abuse could do to surviving family members, the same fear which
prevented the victim speaking out at the time.
The fear of shaming others, including the abuser, is in
turn bound up with the need to prevent other family members knowing the extent
of one’s own shame, lest they deliberately or inadvertently add to it. The fear
of being shamed in the eyes of family or friends is overlaid with guilt. This
includes the guilt the victim might feel about negative feelings towards other
family members who may have been complicit in the abuse through wilful
ignorance at the time, or through denial in later years. And there is the fear
of being called delusional which only adds to the shame. So we have a vicious
circle of shame feeding on guilt, producing more shame. For the victim of historic
abuse, these feelings coalesce, and are compounded over the years, often with
catastrophic results for their relationships.
All of this suggests that we need to think carefully
about how the naming and shaming of totemic high profile abusers is done, and just
as carefully about how those who cannot name their abusers now feel in the
light of these revelations. How can such revelations of historic abuse by high
profile figures help all the other anonymous victims on the road to healing?
When it comes to historical abuse, those who have had a
Christian upbringing, or have come to faith later in life, may have been
conditioned to think of healing as of secondary importance, that it will come
about in time. Think of the old adage about time healing all wounds. These
victims of abuse will have been conditioned to believe that it is forgiveness
which matters most in the eyes of God and that it is therefore their duty to
forgive – and forget. This false portrayal of the meaning and purpose of
Christian forgiveness is itself a form of abuse. It is manipulative, designed to make the victim
accept the past and whatever damage it is doing to their life in the present, thereby
allowing everyone else to feel comfortable in their own ‘forgetting’. The
process is so subtle that both the victims and the perpetrators are often
unaware of it.
Reconciliation processes between and within nations over
the past fifty years have taught us one important lesson with regard to healing
and forgiveness, and that is that no one can embark on the process of forgiveness
without first having paid attention to their need for healing. In the context
of abuse, the need for healing extends to the abuser as well, if that person is
still alive, but it is especially needed where damage continues to be done to
the victim by the web of untruths which maintained and further contributed to
the abusive situation in the first place.
The South African reconciliation process revealed very
clearly that forgiveness, and the reconciliation which follows, comes about
when truth has been spoken, heard and acknowledged by all parties to the abuse.
In the case of historical sexual abuse the reconciliation process should also include
recognition of the damage to a victim’s honour,
and hence personhood, which abuse and subsequent cover-ups bring in its wake. It
is only when their honour has been restored that the victim will be emotionally
strong enough to forgive the wrongs of the past without having to forget them.
This kind of un-forgetting forgiveness allows us to see our
abusers as capable of good. Un-forgetting forgiveness enables a certain
transparency in our relatedness to others, including those others we only read
about in the newspapers. Forgiveness born out of the strength which comes with
truthful healing allows us to see, or remember, what is essentially good in
that person, and what is true about them. This is the person we shall find
ourselves sitting next to at the great feast being prepared for all of us by
the God of mercy.
The reality of Christian forgiveness consists in living in
joyful acceptance of the outrageous promise of God’s total acceptance of us all,
a promise made to victim and abuser alike, in the giving of his Son to the
world.
