Blogging Theologically

Theology for real life

Sexual assault

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Hope in heartbreak

Sunrise

An online acquaintance shared this yesterday, and it broke my heart:

What’s heartbreaking about it for me isn’t a realization that anyone assumes this is the norm. What’s heartbreaking for me is that I generally assume it, too. I think about people in my life, and I can create a frighteningly long list of women (and men) who have been violated. Dehumanized.

What’s heartbreaking for me is that there’s always a possibility of my daughters and son experiencing it too.

My son is still deep in the throws of learning to people; developing empathy and consideration for others. Recognizing that others are worthy of dignity and respect by virtue of being people. That showing love includes being kind and helpful. That hurting others, whether with his fists or his words, is never acceptable. That he would never be the type of “man” who would dare say, “She asked for it.”

 

My daughters have been taught from a very early age that their bodies belong to them, but it’s something Emily and I always trying to reinforce. They have freedom to say no to anyone—even us—if they’re uncomfortable with anything. And our rule is that we always respect the “no.” They know what they’re supposed to do if anyone asks them to keep a secret, ever: tell mom and dad, always.

But there’s part of me that fears that no matter how much we try, they could still have a “me too” story. That they would experience the same pain, guilt, and shame that so many others have in a world that encourages the abuses it then decries.1 But where I find hope is that even though all this could happen, God will not leave it unanswered.

Despite how it may seem at times, “God is not standing idly by to watch evil run its course he will not allow evil to have the final word. His response to evil and violence is redemption, renewal, and recreation.”2 Suffering and pain are real. But even if it doesn’t come how or when we might wish, deliverance is real too. Lord, may it come quickly.

  1. Don’t believe me? Then tell me why 50 Shades of Creepy was a bestselling series and a box office hit. ↵
  2. Justin and Lindsey Holcomb, Is It My Fault?: Hope and Healing for Those Suffering Domestic Violence, 113 ↵

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Who will remove the stain of cognitive sexual self-abuse?

sexual-self-abuse (1)

About 10 years ago, Emily and I went to see A History of Violence, David Cronenberg’s film based upon the 1997 graphic novel of the same name. We watched the film, more or less nonplussed1… and then we weren’t anymore. Why? Because we reached a turning point in the film, where the main character essentially raped his wife on the stairs of their home.

And we—all of us in the theater—were witnesses to it.

Everyone left that night, and no one spoke. Not a word. No one looked at the person they came with. Everyone had their heads down, walked out to their cars, and left.

We knew that what we had seen was not right. As we had watched this film, we had been violated.

Today, the much anticipated, and much spoken of, 50 Shades of Grey begins showing in theaters. Chances are, you’ve read all the articles about why you shouldn’t go to the movie, so I won’t repeat what others have said so well. Instead, what I will say is simply this:

This movie will, undoubtedly, break records. It will also, undoubtedly, shatter souls.

There will be men and women who will walk away from their movie-going experience violated. They may not be able to articulate it, but it will be there. Shame. Guilt. Pain. It will be written on their faces. It will be written on their hearts.

We will all, almost certainly, have someone in our lives who has chosen to see this. And what they will need from us in the days to come are not lectures about how wrong it is, or lamentations on the continued sexual decline of our culture, or sermon series with bad plays on the 50 Shades title, or any of that…

Instead they will need someone to talk to. They will need someone to help them process through what they’ve subjected themselves to. They will need compassion. They will need hope. They will need Christ, the only one who can remove the stain of this cognitive sexual self-abuse.

Lord, let us be up to the task.

  1. In the modern North American sense of the term, not its historic meaning. ↵

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Why don’t they report it?

26/365 - Such Shame

As more and more stories of women’s encounters with Canadian radio host/musician/producer Jian Ghomeshi have come to light (and sparked an investigation by police thanks to at least three women coming forward to file complaints), Emily and I have spent a great deal of time talking about this situation in specific, but assault in general. The other night, I asked:

Why aren’t more women reporting these types of crimes?

After thinking about it for quite a while, Emily gave her answer on the ride to church Sunday morning. She suggested that for some women, it’s a case of not thinking it counts. At least, not for them.

What Emily hit on right away is the lie sexual assault (and sexual predators) tells victims, A lie that says “this isn’t a big deal.” A lie that says:

  • It doesn’t “count” if it was (at least initially) consensual.
  • It doesn’t “count” if you were just being groomed.
  • It doesn’t “count” if you had one too many drinks.
  • It doesn’t “count” if you didn’t fight back.

And so, as the lie take root, victims pretend like nothing happened. Or that it wasn’t a big deal. Or that maybe they “deserved” whatever happened.

Predators continue to roam free, while their victims become trapped by their shame-induced silence.

I wonder how many women (and men, for that matter), would speak up if someone told them, “It counts”?

  • No matter how things started, it counts.
  • No matter how far things progressed, it counts.
  • No matter how much (or little) you drank, it counts.
  • No matter how much of a fight you put up, it counts.

“You did not ask for this. You should not be silenced. You are not worthless. You do not have to pretend like nothing happened. You are not damaged goods, forgotten or ignored by God, or ‘getting what you deserve.'” (Is It My Fault?, 21)

If we want victims to speak up, we need to help them see the truth. We need to help them see that when assault happens, it counts. Period.

photo credit: royalconstantinesociety via photopin cc