My husband and I have had the privilege of attending and serving in the same church for over a decade now. In that time, I’ve come to see that, more often than not, members of my church family are suffering. These people who I love and who love me suffer in many ways. This suffering has come in the form of financial troubles, death, addiction, natural disasters, pornography and adultery, parenting struggles, job stress and unemployment, miscarriage and infertility, and countless other hardships. Each of these suffering stories are significant.
Two forms of suffering that have repeatedly shown themselves in my local church body are cancer and abuse. Now, if you attend my church and you are reading this, you may already be building a list in your mind of people in our congregation who have suffered because of cancer – some surviving and some lost to us in death. I have many faces in my mind as I write this, and my heart is full of both grief for those we have lost and gratitude for those who are still with us.
While those names and faces of cancer sufferers and survivors will hopefully come rushing back to your memory, you may struggle to build a list in your mind of abuse survivors. Maybe you are surprised or even shocked to hear me say that abuse is something I have seen repeatedly in our congregation. But let me assure you, our services are populated by men and women and children who have experienced various forms of abuse. For some the abuse is current and ongoing. For others the abuse lies in the dark recesses of their past. For all the abuse has long-term effects and these sufferers and survivors need compassionate care and support.
It's understandable though, that you may have trouble coming up with names or faces of abuse survivors. Likely this is because the processes of identifying, grieving, and healing from abuse are quite different from the experience of surviving almost any other life-altering tragedy.
Let’s compare the experience of someone diagnosed with cancer to the experience of someone who has been abused. Rarely will a cancer patient carry the weight of his diagnosis in secret, tending to his wounds in isolation. Instead, he will be assigned a team of specialists who will prioritize his wellbeing and provide multi-faceted care. Likely his friends, family, and faith community will rally around him to some degree, offering support as they are able. I have never witnessed an onlooker disbelieve, minimize, or rationalize a cancer survivor's experience. Questions like, "Are you sure you actually have cancer? Is it possible you just misunderstood your symptoms?" are never asked. Comments such as, "I think you're being a little hard on cancer...it probably didn't mean to do this to you,” are not offered. No one shakes their head and says, "It’s hard to believe cancer is causing you this much harm. Cancer has never hurt me that way."
No one looks into the eyes of a declining cancer patient, whose body and soul are diminished due to the relentless effects of cancer and cancer-fighting treatments and says, "I think it's time you perk-up and move-on. I’m sad this has happened to you, but is it possible you're stuck here because you want attention? Stop acting like such a victim. Focus on the positive."
No one argues over the legitimacy of a cancer diagnosis and rightfully so. This is how it should be. Cancer is a terror. It's disruptive and destructive. Cancer brings death to our bodies which were designed for life.
We acknowledge and accept this reality.
We tell the truth about cancer.
We rally around those who are touched by this terror whether directly or indirectly.
We proudly identify as cancer survivors.
We proudly identify with cancer survivors.
We wear ribbons, ring bells, and raise funds.
With conviction we declare the evil of cancer and we pray clear and bold prayers for help and healing.
We weep with, encourage, send meals to, and, in a thousand little ways, support those who are afflicted.
We publicly grieve our losses and express our righteous anger when cancer has its way.
We publicly celebrate recoveries and remissions. This is good and right.
Hear me when I say we should do and be all these things for those affected by cancer.
But for survivors of abuse this picture of comprehensive support is rarely the norm. Abuse survivors often suffer in isolation, silently carrying the weight of another person’s sin against them and the shame it brings. When they do choose to courageously tell the truth about the evil they have endured, they are often met with suspicion instead of support, cynicism instead of concern. While there are likely other empathetic abuse survivors nearby, they may never find each other because they have learned that bringing their stories into the light often brings more hurt than help.
This is not how it should be. We must learn to speak against abuse with the same clarity and conviction with which we speak against other tragedies which occur in this sin-cursed world. We must learn to offer abuse survivors support with the same compassion and care with which we offer support to other sufferers. We must, in humility, take an honest look at our churches. Our people will continue to suffer in this life. This world is broken and living under the curse. Cancer diagnoses will continue to be given. People with power will continue to abuse it and others for their own selfish desires, diminishing and disregarding their victims so long as those desires are met. Until Jesus returns and makes all things new, these tragedies will exist and much of their existence is outside of our control. But what we can control is how we tend to our suffering sheep. We can and should do better for our sheep suffering under the weight of abuse.
Questions for Reflection:
If you are an abuse survivor, in what ways has your suffering experience in the church been similar to or different from those suffering with a cancer diagnosis? What kinds of support have you received that have been a blessing to you? What kinds of support have you seen others receive that you are currently lacking?
If you are not an abuse survivor, why might it be easier for church members to tell the truth about cancer than it is to tell the truth about abuse? What might church members gain by rightly identifying cancer and rightly supporting cancer patients? What might church members lose by rightly identifying abuse and rightly supporting abuse survivors?
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