As the seasons change and the leaves transform into vibrant hues, I am reminded of a dark anniversary in my life—one marked by profound spiritual trauma inflicted by someone I once trusted deeply, a church leader. I was a victim of clergy sexual misconduct.
This occurred four years ago in Roanoke, Virginia, where I live. The individual responsible was a former Bishop from my previous church, the Mormon faith. Despite multiple complaints from women regarding his inappropriate behavior, he remains active in the church, enjoying all the privileges and rights afforded to him.
I have chosen to be open about my experience; I have shared it through various media platforms, including news articles and podcasts. My story is shocking yet not unique—many survivors have similar narratives.
Years of therapy have helped me address the trauma resulting from spiritual abuse and coercion that deeply affected my self-esteem and sense of dignity. I bear no shame for what happened to me; however, the responsibility of healing is mine alone, and that journey is ongoing and often challenging.
In a recent article from Betrayal Trauma Recovery, Dave Gemmel, Associate Director of the NAD Ministerial Association, notes that clergy sexual misconduct represents a betrayal of sacred trust, manifesting through various inappropriate behaviors that can occur within ministerial relationships, whether between paid or unpaid clergy and lay members.
Unpacking the trauma from my experience with a reckless and misogynistic bishop has taken time. He urged me to “submit” to him to “fix” my issues, claiming he had a “special way” with women. He insisted I share intimate details of my sexual history and encouraged me to be more sexual while also being submissive.
Over the years, I have discovered that not everyone believes my story. Some are vocal in their disbelief, adhering to the myth that those in spiritual authority cannot commit such acts. It is indeed difficult to reconcile this reality, especially when we have had positive interactions with someone who has abused their power.
What do I gain by sharing my story? Nothing at all. The losses I have endured, including alienation from my former faith community and the dissolution of friendships, have been heartbreaking. The damage inflicted by vocal members and even the bishop himself has left me reeling.
It’s common to struggle with acknowledging the reality of abuse from those we trust. Abusers often exhibit both good and bad traits, leading to confusion. They selectively target victims, grooming and exploiting them for their gain.
I do not require universal belief in my experience. The truth of my trauma stands regardless of others’ perceptions. After all, they were not present in the bishop’s office when it happened—I was.
Many people find it hard to confront realities they cannot fathom, allowing abusers to maintain their positions of power and continue their cycles of abuse.
After going public, I learned that the bishop paid a partial witness to my experience nearly $20,000 of member donations, seemingly to silence them and prevent corroboration of my story. This is just one instance of the layers of abuse that can compound when victims come forward.
So, what actions can we take to combat clergy sexual misconduct?
- Ensure your faith community has clear policies and practices for reporting abuse. My community had no safe measures for lay members to report a rogue bishop—a significant red flag.
- Advocate for diversity in church leadership, ensuring women are included at all levels of decision-making. As Gemmel mentions, without women involved, we only get half the perspective.
- Avoid seeking therapeutic counseling from clergy. While some may have pastoral training, it does not equate to the expertise of a trained therapeutic counselor. My faith community failed me here, as I was taught to seek spiritual guidance for personal issues.
- If you must meet with clergy, always bring a trusted friend and ensure the door remains open. I met with my bishop alone at night, which resulted in a traumatic experience with no witnesses.
Ultimately, I have come to understand the long-lasting impact of spiritual trauma. The effects are profound and can endure for a lifetime, unlike the leaves that fall with the change of seasons. Initially, I struggled to articulate my experience, but now I can assert with certainty: I was a victim of clergy sexual misconduct. It was not acceptable, and it was not my fault.
As the leaves continue to change and the crisp air returns, my trauma remains present.
For more insights on this topic, you can read our other post here, and for additional perspectives, check out this authority on the subject. For those seeking further information on pregnancy and home insemination, the CDC provides an excellent resource.
Search Queries:
- Clergy sexual misconduct stories
- Spiritual abuse recovery resources
- Reporting clergy abuse
- Support for survivors of clergy misconduct
- Understanding betrayal trauma
Summary:
Samantha Rivers recounts her experience with clergy sexual misconduct, detailing the trauma inflicted by a trusted church leader. Over the years, she has worked through the emotional scars and shares insights on how to prevent such misconduct in faith communities. She emphasizes the importance of reporting policies, diversity in leadership, and the need for professional therapeutic support. Despite facing disbelief from some, she reaffirms the validity of her experience and the ongoing impact of spiritual trauma.