From June 13, 2014, “A preferential option for predators: Christianity Today hires the Rev. Humbert Humbert to serve as a spiritual adviser to its readers“:
“I’m not sure whether I knew it was a crime or not,” Robert J. Carlson, the Roman Catholic archbishop of St. Louis, said in a deposition released earlier this week. Carlson was talking about the sexual abuse of a child by a priest who served under him when he was an auxiliary bishop in Minnesota.
But that, alas, is not the most appalling, foolish and inadvertently revealing statement this week about sanctimonious sexual predators who target children. That dishonor goes, instead, to Leadership Journal, the magazine for white evangelical clergy published by Christianity Today. Carlson can’t compete with CT’s horrifying decision to publish this: “My Easy Trip From Youth Minister to Felon.”
The anonymous former youth minister, writing from prison, is every bit as narcissistic and self-justifying as Humbert Humbert, if not as repulsively charming as the unreliable narrator of Nabokov’s novel. And his agenda throughout the piece is the same as Humbert’s, only with a sanctimonious sheen of religiosity and pious Bible-talk (including, of course, the obligatory self-comparison to poor King David, who in the writer’s telling was simply not spiritual strong enough to resist raping the tawdry temptress Bathsheba).
The writer’s methodical selection, isolation and grooming of his victim began when she was still in middle school — something readers will find only from reading between the lines of his apologia. But he (and the editors of Leadership Journal) presents the story as though it were a slowly developing romantic affair, a mutual sin entered into by two equals who were equally culpable.
The guy goes on to discuss the impact this “spiritual lapse” has had on him — but only on him. He mentions its effect on his wife and children only in passing, bemoaning that he’s unfairly not seen his children since she packed them up and left. (He does discuss his wife a great deal earlier in the piece — blaming her for his “affair” by piously pretending he’s not doing that.)
The writer also doesn’t discuss the impact of his actions on the larger church community and congregation. Or on the dozens of young people in the youth group he led.
And above all he never discusses the impact on the victim herself. After portraying this girl, throughout, as his equal partner in mutual sin, he never tells us what became of her. He seems not to think about that. Or about what will become of her, and what her recovery from this will entail.
If he thinks of his victim at all, it seems he does so only to resent her. He never says so explicitly, but it seems quite clear that he finds it deeply unfair that he is in prison while she is not. …
Read the whole post here.
This was a thing that happened, prompting a loud outcry calling for CT/LJ to #TakeDownThatPost. Remarkably, a day later, “They took down that post,” replacing it with an apology that began like this:
We should not have published this post, and we deeply regret the decision to do so.
The post, told from the perspective of a sex offender, withheld from readers until the very end a crucial piece of information: that the sexual misconduct being described involved a minor under the youth pastor’s care. Among other failings, this post used language that implied consent and mutuality when in fact there can be no question that in situations of such disproportionate power, there is no such thing as consent or mutuality.
The post, intended to dissuade future perpetrators, dwelt at length on the losses this criminal sin caused the author, while displaying little or no empathic engagement with the far greater losses caused to the victim of the crime and the wider community around the author. The post adopted a tone that was not appropriate given its failure to document full recognition and repentance. …
The retraction and apology were a positive development, hailed at the time as a step in the right direction.
Over the past eight years I’ve grown more cautious about celebrating such positive steps — not because they’re not worth celebrating, but because I’ve learned to anticipate the ferocity of the backlash from TPTB that inevitably follows even the smallest of positive developments.