I’m currently reading Trauma And Recovery: The Aftermath Of Violence- From Domestic Abuse To Political Terror by the trauma psychiatrist, Dr. Judith Herman. While this important book primarily focuses on war veterans and women survivors of domestic rape, so much of it is relevant to survivors of sexual and spiritual abuse in the Church.
At one point, Dr. Herman explained the crucial role that a trauma survivor’s community has in facilitating healing. She stated that the “response of the community has a powerful influence on the ultimate resolution of the trauma.” Specifically, public recognition and some form of restitution “are necessary to rebuild the survivor's sense of order and justice.”
However, if the community fails to care for the trauma survivor, that betrayal is often experienced as more harmful than the initial trauma itself.
While outlining some of the unique symptoms of trauma, Dr. Herman shared the story of a navy veteran who came to therapy complaining of numbness, pain, and a cold sensation from his waist down. While he initially couldn’t recall experiencing any traumatic events, through the course of therapy he eventually recounted an experience where the ship he was stationed on was attacked and sank. For hours he had to cling to a raft, half submerged in the frigid sea, while he slowly watched crew-mates lose consciousness and drown.
Later in the book, she referred back to this veteran and shared the next chapter of his ordeal. After clinging to the raft for twelve hours, a rescue ship arrived. However, they picked up the officers first, even though they were safe in lifeboats. The veteran had to wait another seven hours, half-submerged in freezing water, before he was rescued. And in those extra hours he watched crew-mates drown.
The veteran reported that this betrayal from his own side was worse than the physical trauma he suffered. In a truly incredible passage, Dr. Herman stated, “The rescuers’ disregard for this man’s life was more traumatic to him than were the enemy attack, the physical pain of submersion in the cold water, the terror of death, and the loss of the other men who shared his ordeal.” In fact, the indifference of the rescue team “destroyed his faith in his community.”
This story immediately made me think of the survivors of clerical sexual abuse who have shared that the betrayal they experienced from the Church when they reported their abuse was more painful than the abuse itself. In an interview earlier this year, Sara Larson, the Executive Director of Awake, said:
“I hear almost universally from abuse survivors, including those who have made reports in the last five years, that the experience of reporting abuse to the Church was incredibly painful and re-traumatizing. And many, many survivors will say that that has been the more painful part of their experience - reporting abuse to the Church. There are a lot of good people working within the Church to try to improve our response to abuse survivors, and I don't want to minimize those efforts. But we have a lot of work to do in how we as a Church respond to allegations of abuse and treat survivors with sensitivity and compassion.”
With all of this in mind, I’d like to draw your attention to a story that Jenn Morson reported yesterday. It began:
“On the weekend of June 22-23, parishioners at St. Michael and St. Joseph parishes in Fall River, Massachusetts, were informed via a letter from Bishop Edgar da Cunha that their pastor, Fr. Jay Mello, was being put on leave for sexual misconduct allegations.”
Morson interviewed one of Fr. Jay Mello’s alleged victims who recounted how the priest assaulted him and tried to rape him, only relenting when the victim overpowered the priest and fled.
Despite the fact that the victim reported this to the diocese, Fr. Mello was allowed to function as a priest for several more years, including working at a school. It was only after another victim came forward that the diocese put Mello on leave.
Despite all of this, Morson reported:
“Comments on many news stories as well as social media posts were overwhelmingly supportive of Mello. Several parishioners changed their profile pictures to images with the priest and their children and other family members. Others have applied filters to their profile to add the words, ‘Pray for Father Jay.’”
Morson shared an example of one of those social media profiles:
From this report, not only did the diocese betray Fr. Mello’s victims, the parish community did as well. All of them left survivors in frigid water.
And the thing is, it didn’t have to go this way.
It is not overly complicated or challenging for you and me, regular Catholics, to respond to abuse survivors with belief and support. That bar is so low. And yet we repeatedly fail to reach it.
This is so simple to fix. And it can be fixed immediately.
I may not be able to change seminary formation or diocesan policy to prevent abuse, but I can stop defending leaders when they are credibly accused. I can change how I personally respond to abuse survivors so that, at least from me, they experience belief, and not betrayal. And I can change that right now.
We must do better.