For years, Jimmy G was seen as great guy and a number one member at his area people church—he was the go-to volunteer for all of the ministries others avoided. On most Sunday mornings, you’ll see him serving alongside his wife in children’s ministry. But then something happened. Jimmy was suddenly arrested for multiple counts of aggravated sexual assault—a few of them involving a minor. “Surely, Jimmy was framed,” thought everyone who knew him.
But then reports began showing up in local newspapers. This was not the primary time Jimmy had been charged with such crimes. This had happened in one other state years before, and his mode of operation was the identical. It didn’t take long for brand new visitors to stop coming to this church—and as reports kept appearing on the front pages of local newspapers, even the faithful began peeling away from the congregation. The church’s fame will take a long time to get well in that close-knit small town.
I wish this account was fictional, however it isn’t. These events took place at a church in a neighboring community after I was a police officer. And although I’ve modified his name, the facts of his case, which I used to be aware about, are as stated. Sadly, this example is repeated far too often in Christian churches today. During my time in law enforcement, I learned all too well how individuals with predatory proclivities can camouflage their activities behind church partitions. And now, as the manager director of a big PCA church, I’m personally aware of pastors’ immense responsibility to guard their flocks from harm.
Our churches are presupposed to be sanctuaries of grace and peace, but the previous couple of years have witnessed an explosion of abuse reports showing this calling routinely violated. This issue extends far beyond the Catholic church and has impacted many well-known evangelical denominations just like the Southern Baptist Convention and the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA).
Sadly, no Christian community is resistant to the shadows lurking throughout the human heart, whether these take the shape of abuse or its cover-ups. And now that the devastating prevalence of such abuse and its outcomes are more apparent than ever before, we should always be ever more vigilant to make sure the protection of each member in our congregations.
That’s why I’ve at all times considered mandatory background checks for all pastors, church officers, staff, and volunteers to be one easy step that congregations can and may take to nurture an environment that’s inhospitable to abusive predators who would prey on the trust of our members. That’s also why I even have been surprised by the resistance I’ve encountered to proposing mandatory background checks for all member congregations in my very own denomination.
At last yr’s General Assembly of the PCA, commissioners didn’t accept an overture to require mandatory background checks but sent it back for further consideration and perfecting. While I don’t object to creating every effort to be clear in the case of such matters, I used to be disillusioned by a number of the reasons listed for rejecting this initiative—including apprehension about government oversight, deterring volunteer retention, and damaging communal trust—which I’ll address shortly.
My primary concern is that many well-intentioned leaders could also be naïve about how common it’s for people of their congregations to hold dark secrets which threaten the protection of their church members. My time in law enforcement taught me that abusive individuals, no matter their church involvement, often conceal their true selves behind a veneer of respectability and private piety. In fact, those with nefarious intentions will be much more gifted at weaving false narratives and personas than others.
In her book Predators: Pedophiles, Rapists, and Other Sex Offenders, Anna Salter quotes a convicted child molester as saying, “I considered church people easy to idiot … they’ve a trust that comes from being Christians. … They are likely to be higher folks throughout. And they appear to need to imagine in the great that exists in all people.” And as Kimi Harris wrote in a previous piece for CT, “The predators which can be statistically more likely to be within the pews, volunteering, and even behind the pulpit aren’t just grooming their victims, they’re grooming their community to view them as trustworthy and whilst spiritual leaders.”
This realization underscores the need of informed trust, which should be complemented by proactive measures to safeguard our communities. Yes, we should always trust our members; but we should always also take steps to validate that trust, especially in those that lead and serve. Naïve trust can also be incongruent with the witness of Scripture. Given our theological commitments to the doctrine of total depravity, the ability of indwelling sin, and our penchant for self-deception, Christians should know higher than anyone.
As Cornelius Plantinga Jr. wrote, “The story of the autumn tells us that sin corrupts… Like some devastating twister, corruption each explodes and implodes creation, pushing it back toward the ‘formless void’ from which it got here.” This pervasive corruption distorts our highest ideals and masks our darkest impulses. Knowing this implies we take seriously the likelihood that dreadful acts will arise in essentially the most improbable of places and from the least likely individuals. In Matthew 7:15, Jesus himself warns about duplicitous individuals in our midst who come to us “in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they’re ferocious wolves” (Matt. 7:15).
Especially as Presbyterians committed to the Westminster Confession of Faith and Catechisms, we imagine we aren’t only born in sin but that each aspect of our humanity is fallen. This is why our polity demands examination of all nominated officer candidates and sets up a system of accountability and appeal—precisely because we all know that even at our greatest, we’re still sinful. Given our robust doctrine of sin, we rejoice at God’s amazing grace and, at the identical time, do the whole lot we are able to to withstand sin and stop its pervasive presence in people and structures, especially those in our communities.
One commonly cited argument against rigorous vetting processes that I even have repeatedly heard is a deep-seated trust in communal bonds—together with the idea that such intimate familiarity breeds transparency.
It is an ideal gift to have around us those we love and trust, and it’s comprehensible why many imagine such community bonds would protect them and people they love from predators. Yet we cannot ignore the well-documented indisputable fact that violence often erupts by the hands of those closest to a victim. Studies show that 93 percent of juvenile victims of sexual abuse offenses know their perpetrator. And while those in rural areas may wrongly imagine the oldsters of their familiar circles are implicitly trustworthy, those in large urban centers should know firsthand the uncomfortable truth that proximity doesn’t at all times equal community.
Other critics indicate that background checks have limitations and fail to catch those that have managed to avoid legal consequences for previous misdeeds. Given the relentless demands of church ministry, implementing a background check policy can feel daunting, especially when so many wrongdoers appear to slip through the cracks. Why fire up controversy for something which may offer minimal results?
While we are able to acknowledge that each system has its flaws, dismissing background checks on these grounds is unwise, especially given the statistics. According to RAINN, greater than half of all alleged rapists have had at the least one prior criminal conviction before they were arrested for rape. Background checks represent a single but vital step in a multilayered defense strategy, serving as a tangible expression of our commitment to guard the church that Christ entrusted to our care.
An especially disappointing argument I’ve heard centers on apprehension that requiring background checks invites undue “government oversight” into private affairs. But the true risk of governmental intervention arises not from taking such precautionary measures but from failing to catch perpetrators—which may result in preventable tragedies that may rightfully attract each public and legal engagement.
Others suggest implementing background checks might deter long-standing volunteers from continuing to serve. This will be detrimental especially to smaller congregations who already struggle to draw and retain enough volunteer employees to staff their various ministries.
To ensure, introducing a recent policy like this may very well be uncomfortable for such churches at first. Modern ministry is complex, and adding extra hoops for potential volunteers to leap through could make it more so. Perhaps the sweet grandmother who has been serving in nursery for a long time will feel hurt by your request to fill out a background check. She might wonder if this signals a scarcity of trust, especially after so a few years. Yet that is precisely why it will be important for pastors and church leaders to border this as a universal expectation for everybody on staff—including themselves.
The vetting policy and process ought to be framed as a mirrored image of your entire congregation’s commitment to cultivating a fearless peace within the church. And this, ultimately, should result in the recruitment of healthy volunteers who can serve the entire congregation well.
As Proverbs 22:3 reads, “The prudent see danger and take refuge, but the straightforward keep going and pay the penalty.” Navigating potential dangers requires adopting a comprehensive approach to safety. This involves not only implementing background checks but in addition cultivating an environment by which concerns will be voiced with none fear of reprisal and where the signs of potential harm are recognized by trained staff and volunteers—and acted upon.
For pastors, the glory of Jesus Christ and the protection of each individual entrusted to our care are held together as our chief concern. Our congregation’s most vulnerable members hold a central place in our ministry, and we’re charged not only with feeding the flock (John 21) but in addition guarding it (Acts 20:28). Thus, we must joyfully embrace the obligatory precautions that, in the long run, will help us make sure that the church is a protected and healthy place. This isn’t an indication of fear, but an illustration of religion in motion.
At this yr’s General Assembly, the PCA will consider acting on a recent overture to incorporate a policy for mandatory background checks within the Book of Church Order, which some imagine to be higher formulated than the previous one which was rejected eventually yr’s assembly. And once more, as a former police officer and current PCA elder, I think all churches should require this of their employees—starting with those in my very own denomination. This basic step is worthy of our commitment to like and protect essentially the most vulnerable amongst us as we serve all with the gospel.
Michael Veitz is a former Tennessee police officer, a ruling elder within the PCA, and a parent of three children who serves as the manager director of Spanish River Church in Boca Raton, Florida.
