Reputation is what others know about you. Honour is what you know about yourself.
This is what's been going on in my church.
A few weeks ago, our minister, L., had a complaint of sexual misconduct lodged against her. Because of the UCC's policies on handling these complaints -- more on that later -- we as a congregation had no way of knowing if the complaint was a single incident of sexual harassment or outright sexual abuse; all the presbytery was allowed to say was that no minors were involved. We had no way of knowign if it happened 20 years ago or today; there's no statute of limitations on making a complaint. (Understandable; some kinds of incidents covered under policy are traumatic and a person may not be up to filing the complaint right away.)
It seemed pretty much as if there wasn't a single person in the congregation who believed this was possible. L is a wonderful woman - sometimes a little new-agey, but earnest, affectionate, genuine in her desires for peace and social justice, and for inter-faith understanding. She's not a fabulous preacher, but she has good ideas and conveys them well, if not fiery and corkscrewed like J., our former lay minister, or funny and deep like D., our Emeritus. L. is loved by many, and many are beholden to her for all forms of spiritual guidance. And yes, she was the one who did my wedding service. And she's the one who had the horrible car accident with her wife last year, from which they were months in recovery. She managed to pull some great strength and courage out of that ordeal, and it made her shine. I've never seen her bitter, even explaining her early days in the Southern Baptist Convention, before she came out, dealing with a comnbined love of god and condemnation for her sexuality.
For my part, I cannot imagine her actually committing anything resembling sexual abuse or discrimination.
I *can* imagine her making an affectionate gesture that got misconstrued. And anyone can say something they didn't think about well enough at the wrong moment.
And yes, I can imagine someone with some other grudge using the accusation as a weapon to tarnish her, with no basis whatever.
The United Church of Canada revised their policy on handling sexual misconduct complaints in July 2007, so the policy this was handled under is new, and L's is one of the first cases at all, the first in Winnipeg, and I think in Manitoba. They admit that they're still looking at the success/failure of the process as a process, though there seems to be agreement it's better than what it replaced.
This is how the process works: once the complaint is made, the minister in question is immediately suspended from duty, and from contact with their congregation. The congregation is informed, as we were in a meeting a few weeks back (Which Colin and I actually missed most of because he had obligations elsewhere), that this policy is the reason for the suspension, and what the policy and process entails. The reason for not informing the congregation of any further details of the complaint (And it is, at this point, a complaint, not an accusation or a legal charge) is to protect the anonymity of the complainant; any detail might give away the person's name, especially in a small congregation with a smaller total church staff.
Then presbytery (A body of the United Church covering the local area - Winnipeg, in this case) reviews the complaint with the complainant and the accused - who cannot address the complainant directly - and investigates the validity of the complaint.
And a report of this action, accusation and suspension, goes into reports from the presbytery to the main church.
Then they convene a meeting of the congregation formerly udner the minister's care, and report their findings. As we met this last Sunday after the service.
If the complaint is valid, they decide what else to do; to pursue it with disciplinary measures within the church or to take it to legal proceedings, or whatnot. IF the accusation is valid, at this point the congregation learns who made the complaint and what the charge is.
Or, if the complaint is invalid, they report that, unsuspend the minister, and begin what they call healing proceedings, therapy and ministry for complainant, accused, and the congregation, because it is an ordeal. The complainant remains anonymous, and the substance of the charge is never explained.
The meeting started tense. Funny, that. It was headed by two women from our congregation, and two members of presbytery who'd been directly involved in the investigation.
Ther was quite literally one of those HUGE sighs and exhales you hear about when the presbytery representative read that there was NO substantiation of the charge, and it appeared invalid. Then across-the-room applause. And a second and third declaration, that essentially reinstated L. as minister of Augustine. (More applause.) An explanation that these statements would be published everyhwere the initial news of the complaint were published. More explanation of the healing and repair process about to begin, and some of the resources people in the congregation would have.
Then they took questions. And that's where things started to go wrong.
The first question asked, by a fierce-voiced person ahead of me, was whether the Church had any way to declare L's innocence and thus possibly repair the damage to her reputation. The representatives explained again that it would be published everywhere the accusation was in the first place.
Another question, by a more reasonable-sounding voice: Whether the UCC would consider revising the policy to add a possibility of a front-end investigation, before the suspension or the minister or the revelation to the cognregation as to what is going on, so that a minister is not suspended from the moment a complaint of any kind is made. (This from someone who remarked that sie'd written and reviewed these kinds of policies, and thought this one was an excellent policy for major charges, but a weak one for minor complaints).
But in spite of that person, the next spate of questions got... angry. Questions as to whether we could ever be told who the complainant was (No.) Whether someone who knew the complainant but wasn't part of the church and hadn't sworn any oath to uphold presbytery could 'out' the person, or the details of the charge. (The church isn't God, and can't smite people for talking, but would not support such an action or defend a person who committed it from consequence.) Whether there was any kind of punitive damage for putting forth a false accusation. (Not under this policy, and actions taken under other policies were not part of this meeting.) And repeat a few variations; can we find and punish the person who hurt L? I waited for one of the people, the two from our congregation or the two from presbytery, to comment, but they didn't. One of them made a statement, firmly divided from her role as one of the meeting leaders, that indicated she, too, was angry that it had got this far, and L's reputation could be this blemished, without any substance to the charge. A few people talked about their own experiences with dealing with beign in a public role where this kind of accusation has more damage than it does to a private citizen - people involved in schools and business. Anger. Anger anger anger. Sometimes only to the level of wishing for improvements in the policy, but more often -- and more often as the meeting went on -- with this implication of a wish for retribution. Punishment.
As this progressed, Colin gave me a glance and a gesture, suggesting it was time to go. I shook my head, and the next time they asked for a question, I finally stood up. Shaking, but. This was my CHURCH. It's supposed to have these ideals.
I pointed out that this was exactly the reason for the anonymity. This charge was unsubstantiated - but another time, there might be one with substance, and the person, if they'd seen this meeting, might be afraid to come forward. The complainant might well be in the room, and if so, they probably felt rather battered now. It wasn't important what the charge was, or who said it - it was unsubstantiated. It was more important now to worry about recovering, about helping L get over this ordeal and back to her place among us, and about healing ourselves as a congregation.
I didn't use the word forgiveness, but I was thinking it every moment. And I sat down, and held Colin's hand until i stopped actively shaking (I was still quivering when I got home.)
And that was the second time in the meeting I felt a mood snap, instead of grow slowly.
And someone else did, immediately after, stating that we should be trying to keep our hearts soft. And someone else made the wisest point yet; we had no way of knowing if the charge had been laid maliciously or under a genuine misunderstanding.
The meeting ended a few minutes later. One of the women who'd chaired the meeting actually grabbed my hands and thanked me, which almost put me in tears on the spot. Another, a member of choicr I'd usually call a friend, thanked me, but more briefly.
On the way out, Colin seemed to be looking at me with a funny smile. Not his usual one. I asked him about it, and he said, "I'm proud of you."
I'm not sure I've ever heard him say those exact words, even when he's being supportive.
Part of me is still waiting for one of the angriest people to bite at me for it. At choir tonight or at church Sunday morning. They probably won't, but I'ms till braced for it. I felt very much like I was facing something way huger than I was by speaking then, and I still kind of feel it looming.
What i didn't say is this: L.'s reputation is far from tarnished among the people here, who know her and never doubted her; and it's unlikely she'll do or say anything on ehr return that will alter that. Her reputation further out may occasionally be of issue when it comes to ehr career - but not so far as it should effect her daily among us. She is L, she remains L. And her honour, I hope, is untouched.* She knows what she did and did not do.
D is still preaching this week - they're not dropping L right back into the swing, that would be cruel - but she'll be there.
* and yes, I'm citing Bujold in the middle of religion even though Bujold's fantasy series, in her own words, was about fixing some of the things she felt real world religion got wrong. Too bad; she knows whereof she speaks.
A few weeks ago, our minister, L., had a complaint of sexual misconduct lodged against her. Because of the UCC's policies on handling these complaints -- more on that later -- we as a congregation had no way of knowing if the complaint was a single incident of sexual harassment or outright sexual abuse; all the presbytery was allowed to say was that no minors were involved. We had no way of knowign if it happened 20 years ago or today; there's no statute of limitations on making a complaint. (Understandable; some kinds of incidents covered under policy are traumatic and a person may not be up to filing the complaint right away.)
It seemed pretty much as if there wasn't a single person in the congregation who believed this was possible. L is a wonderful woman - sometimes a little new-agey, but earnest, affectionate, genuine in her desires for peace and social justice, and for inter-faith understanding. She's not a fabulous preacher, but she has good ideas and conveys them well, if not fiery and corkscrewed like J., our former lay minister, or funny and deep like D., our Emeritus. L. is loved by many, and many are beholden to her for all forms of spiritual guidance. And yes, she was the one who did my wedding service. And she's the one who had the horrible car accident with her wife last year, from which they were months in recovery. She managed to pull some great strength and courage out of that ordeal, and it made her shine. I've never seen her bitter, even explaining her early days in the Southern Baptist Convention, before she came out, dealing with a comnbined love of god and condemnation for her sexuality.
For my part, I cannot imagine her actually committing anything resembling sexual abuse or discrimination.
I *can* imagine her making an affectionate gesture that got misconstrued. And anyone can say something they didn't think about well enough at the wrong moment.
And yes, I can imagine someone with some other grudge using the accusation as a weapon to tarnish her, with no basis whatever.
The United Church of Canada revised their policy on handling sexual misconduct complaints in July 2007, so the policy this was handled under is new, and L's is one of the first cases at all, the first in Winnipeg, and I think in Manitoba. They admit that they're still looking at the success/failure of the process as a process, though there seems to be agreement it's better than what it replaced.
This is how the process works: once the complaint is made, the minister in question is immediately suspended from duty, and from contact with their congregation. The congregation is informed, as we were in a meeting a few weeks back (Which Colin and I actually missed most of because he had obligations elsewhere), that this policy is the reason for the suspension, and what the policy and process entails. The reason for not informing the congregation of any further details of the complaint (And it is, at this point, a complaint, not an accusation or a legal charge) is to protect the anonymity of the complainant; any detail might give away the person's name, especially in a small congregation with a smaller total church staff.
Then presbytery (A body of the United Church covering the local area - Winnipeg, in this case) reviews the complaint with the complainant and the accused - who cannot address the complainant directly - and investigates the validity of the complaint.
And a report of this action, accusation and suspension, goes into reports from the presbytery to the main church.
Then they convene a meeting of the congregation formerly udner the minister's care, and report their findings. As we met this last Sunday after the service.
If the complaint is valid, they decide what else to do; to pursue it with disciplinary measures within the church or to take it to legal proceedings, or whatnot. IF the accusation is valid, at this point the congregation learns who made the complaint and what the charge is.
Or, if the complaint is invalid, they report that, unsuspend the minister, and begin what they call healing proceedings, therapy and ministry for complainant, accused, and the congregation, because it is an ordeal. The complainant remains anonymous, and the substance of the charge is never explained.
The meeting started tense. Funny, that. It was headed by two women from our congregation, and two members of presbytery who'd been directly involved in the investigation.
Ther was quite literally one of those HUGE sighs and exhales you hear about when the presbytery representative read that there was NO substantiation of the charge, and it appeared invalid. Then across-the-room applause. And a second and third declaration, that essentially reinstated L. as minister of Augustine. (More applause.) An explanation that these statements would be published everyhwere the initial news of the complaint were published. More explanation of the healing and repair process about to begin, and some of the resources people in the congregation would have.
Then they took questions. And that's where things started to go wrong.
The first question asked, by a fierce-voiced person ahead of me, was whether the Church had any way to declare L's innocence and thus possibly repair the damage to her reputation. The representatives explained again that it would be published everywhere the accusation was in the first place.
Another question, by a more reasonable-sounding voice: Whether the UCC would consider revising the policy to add a possibility of a front-end investigation, before the suspension or the minister or the revelation to the cognregation as to what is going on, so that a minister is not suspended from the moment a complaint of any kind is made. (This from someone who remarked that sie'd written and reviewed these kinds of policies, and thought this one was an excellent policy for major charges, but a weak one for minor complaints).
But in spite of that person, the next spate of questions got... angry. Questions as to whether we could ever be told who the complainant was (No.) Whether someone who knew the complainant but wasn't part of the church and hadn't sworn any oath to uphold presbytery could 'out' the person, or the details of the charge. (The church isn't God, and can't smite people for talking, but would not support such an action or defend a person who committed it from consequence.) Whether there was any kind of punitive damage for putting forth a false accusation. (Not under this policy, and actions taken under other policies were not part of this meeting.) And repeat a few variations; can we find and punish the person who hurt L? I waited for one of the people, the two from our congregation or the two from presbytery, to comment, but they didn't. One of them made a statement, firmly divided from her role as one of the meeting leaders, that indicated she, too, was angry that it had got this far, and L's reputation could be this blemished, without any substance to the charge. A few people talked about their own experiences with dealing with beign in a public role where this kind of accusation has more damage than it does to a private citizen - people involved in schools and business. Anger. Anger anger anger. Sometimes only to the level of wishing for improvements in the policy, but more often -- and more often as the meeting went on -- with this implication of a wish for retribution. Punishment.
As this progressed, Colin gave me a glance and a gesture, suggesting it was time to go. I shook my head, and the next time they asked for a question, I finally stood up. Shaking, but. This was my CHURCH. It's supposed to have these ideals.
I pointed out that this was exactly the reason for the anonymity. This charge was unsubstantiated - but another time, there might be one with substance, and the person, if they'd seen this meeting, might be afraid to come forward. The complainant might well be in the room, and if so, they probably felt rather battered now. It wasn't important what the charge was, or who said it - it was unsubstantiated. It was more important now to worry about recovering, about helping L get over this ordeal and back to her place among us, and about healing ourselves as a congregation.
I didn't use the word forgiveness, but I was thinking it every moment. And I sat down, and held Colin's hand until i stopped actively shaking (I was still quivering when I got home.)
And that was the second time in the meeting I felt a mood snap, instead of grow slowly.
And someone else did, immediately after, stating that we should be trying to keep our hearts soft. And someone else made the wisest point yet; we had no way of knowing if the charge had been laid maliciously or under a genuine misunderstanding.
The meeting ended a few minutes later. One of the women who'd chaired the meeting actually grabbed my hands and thanked me, which almost put me in tears on the spot. Another, a member of choicr I'd usually call a friend, thanked me, but more briefly.
On the way out, Colin seemed to be looking at me with a funny smile. Not his usual one. I asked him about it, and he said, "I'm proud of you."
I'm not sure I've ever heard him say those exact words, even when he's being supportive.
Part of me is still waiting for one of the angriest people to bite at me for it. At choir tonight or at church Sunday morning. They probably won't, but I'ms till braced for it. I felt very much like I was facing something way huger than I was by speaking then, and I still kind of feel it looming.
What i didn't say is this: L.'s reputation is far from tarnished among the people here, who know her and never doubted her; and it's unlikely she'll do or say anything on ehr return that will alter that. Her reputation further out may occasionally be of issue when it comes to ehr career - but not so far as it should effect her daily among us. She is L, she remains L. And her honour, I hope, is untouched.* She knows what she did and did not do.
D is still preaching this week - they're not dropping L right back into the swing, that would be cruel - but she'll be there.
* and yes, I'm citing Bujold in the middle of religion even though Bujold's fantasy series, in her own words, was about fixing some of the things she felt real world religion got wrong. Too bad; she knows whereof she speaks.