c. 1997 Religion News Service
(Dale Hanson Bourke is publisher of Religion News Service and author of”Turn Toward the Wind.”)
(UNDATED) _ Despite our protestations to the contrary, we live in a macho society.
Even as we applaud the notion of a kinder, gentler nation, we buy”ram tough”sport utility vehicles, clamor for the next Terminator movie and elect politicians who talk tough and promise to kick butt.
Too often, the church also reflects this societal trend.
Bigger and better megachurches rule the congregational landscapes. Successful preachers have their own version of the Chuck Yeager drawl, oozing strength and confidence. And the church loves a repentant sinner, especially one who has sinned boldly and left a life of crime or power.
Unfortunately, the church does not do as well with victims.
It may be the overt message of the Gospel that attracts those in pain to the church, but often a congregation’s subliminal message can make the hurting feel victimized again.
As a friend of mine who was robbed and raped told me,”People at my church would look away when they saw me, as if I was contagious. But even worse were those who offered a platitude and suggested that praying would fix me up in no time.” When this friend broke down and cried during a Bible study class six months after she was attacked, a church acquaintance suggested that she might not be trusting God enough to rid her of the negative images that haunted her.
Not all churches are so insensitive and many parishioners are caring and supportive. But for the most part, congregations lack a comprehensive theology and practical response to those who are victimized by crime, abuse or abandonment.
A bold sinner turned God-ward signifies repentance and life-changing grace. A victim offers a reminder of our vulnerability and the world’s fallenness _ a more difficult theological concept to embrace.
Lisa Barnes Lampman is undeterred by such a challenge. As founder of Neighbors Who Care, a national crime victims assistance organization, she is educating congregations about helping victims, while also offering direct support to individuals who have suffered.
It is an overwhelming but necessary undertaking. Even with crime on the decrease in some parts of the country, most congregations include victims. And as those individuals sit beside us in worship, they suffer from their pain as well as the fear that identifying themselves will ostracize them or open the door to unhelpful advice.
During a national forum held outside Washington last weekend, the organization brought together scholars, prosecutors, psychologists, theologians, social services providers and victims themselves to discuss some of the issues crime victims face.
At times the talk was theoretical and scholarly. But at other moments it turned to the painful intimacy of hideous crime and abuse against innocents. The responses of lay people and professionals were often the same: grimaces, tears and head shaking, as if to drive away the horrible images. But these people had come to do the painful work of looking for ways the church can respond and play a positive role in the healing process.
Neighbors Who Care is developing a book out of the conference. But it already offers a number of other resources to help local churches develop their ministry to crime victims. It offers simple guidelines for helping a friend and suggests ways to lobby for victims’ rights.
Most of all, the organization tries to give perspective to a church that too often embraces a reformed criminal more readily than a grieving victim.
A subsidiary of Prison Fellowship, the four-year-old organization takes its name from the biblical account of a lawyer asking Jesus,”Who is my neighbor?” Jesus replies by telling the story of the Good Samaritan. He concludes it by saying,”Go and do the same.” Neighbors Who Care is putting that commandment into practice. But it will have a tough time in a society that is macho to the core and a church that too often takes its cues from a Terminator instead of a savior.
IR END BOURKE
