Originally posted October 23, 2011, at Skating in the Garden in High Heels Under My Alb. Republished with permission of the author.
For the past few years I would get the same email from the synod. Apparently some years ago a resolution passed at the Synod Assembly that all rostered folk had to attend a “Safeguarding God’s Children” training on how to protect youth against sexual abuse in the church.
It was always on a Sunday afternoon and it was always an hour or so away. I never want to do anything on a Sunday afternoon, so I pretty much ignored the emails.
The last message said they would not recommend my name to a congregation until I took the training. So today, after three services, I got in the car and drove an hour to fulfill my obligation, rolling my eyes and complaining about it to my visiting sister right up to the end.
It was excellent. I should have done this years ago. I should have brought the education committee from all the congregations with me.
What was really telling was the information that pedophile networks (you know there are such things, where they advise each other how to find and groom victims) are advising one another to go to church. Not to find Jesus. To find little boys and girls.
Because for years now the other youth organizations, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, Boys and Girls Clubs, etc., have been on top of this and have pretty much made themselves inaccessible to predators. As usual, the church is woefully behind on this issue, sticking our head in the sand, claiming we don’t have to worry about such terrible things taking place in our congregation.
I think of some of things we used to do. I once took a group of kids in my van, with only me, to a confirmation retreat in a hotel. They were farm kids who didn’t get out much and a hotel with a pool was a big deal. We had a Bible study by the pool.
And all the youth gatherings with six girls and two beds and me in a hotel room. I remember how I used to take the chest measurements myself of all the confirmands for the robes because it was easier than waiting for the parents to get them to me. No more of that.
“Oh what a shame we can’t do that anymore because we have to worry about THAT” is the standard response. No — what a shame we did not worry about THAT in the past. What a shame we exposed young people to abuse in the past.
I don’t have a problem with never ever letting children or youth be alone with an adult (even me) again. Actually I’m kind of relieved to be able to say “Sorry but if I don’t get some adults to go with me, we just are not going to be able to go on this trip.”
It isn’t that the problem is worse now. It’s that we are aware of the problem and are doing what we can to prevent it. That is not a shame. That’s a good thing.
If your synod is nagging you to go to one, stop procrastinating and get yourself to one. And if they are not, nag them to make that training available.
Of course now comes the part that is even more difficult than giving up my Sunday afternoon nap — convincing the congregation that we need to put these safeguards in place.
Find a link to Joelle Colville-Hanson’s entry on the blog Skating in the Garden in High Heels Under My Alb at Lutheran Blogs.