I have witnessed – and, sadly, continue to witness – that every time a serious case of sexual immorality or abuse committed by a Christian leader comes to light, a familiar scene seems to repeat itself.

First comes the scandal. Then come the explanations, the statements and the requests for forgiveness. After a while, a question begins to be heard: when will he be able to return to ministry?

But whilst we discuss his future, there is another question that is asked far less frequently:

Who is restoring the victims? Who has listened to them? Who has protected their dignity? Who has taken an interest in the emotional, family and spiritual consequences that may accompany them for years to come?

I am concerned that, at times, we are extraordinarily quick to proclaim the restoration of the leader and extraordinarily slow to care for the people who were hurt.

We cannot look away or continue to perpetuate practices that confuse grace with impunity

And I am even more concerned that some restoration processes may take place by listening almost exclusively to the person in charge, without making sufficient effort to understand the experience of those who suffered as a result of their behaviour. Because how can we comprehend the gravity of what happened if we only listen to the person who caused the harm?

I am aware of cases in which so-called ‘restoration’ processes have taken place without the victims having received an apology from the abusive leader or offender, without any attempt having been made to make amends for the harm caused and, what is even more worrying, without them even having been offered the opportunity to be heard by the counsellors or pastors responsible for the restoration process. We cannot consider a process to be restorative if it focuses on the perpetrator whilst ignoring those who have suffered the consequences of their actions. This reality should shock us as the Church of Christ in Spain and Latin America. We cannot look away or continue to perpetuate practices that confuse grace with impunity.

We need to learn to address these situations with biblical faithfulness, transparency, justice and genuine pastoral sensitivity towards those who have been hurt.

 

Tamar, the forgotten victim

There is a biblical account we should read more often when we speak of abuse: 2 Samuel 13.

Amnon, David’s son, raped his sister Tamar. He then rejected her and threw her out of his presence. The account describes Tamar weeping bitterly, until she ended up living in desolation at the home of her brother Absalom. David found out and was deeply angered, but the text does not present us with a response of justice and redress for Tamar.

It is a heart-rending story that forces us to ask: how many Tamars are there in our churches today?

Women who trusted a pastor, counsellor or spiritual mentor, opened their hearts and, instead of finding protection, experienced manipulation, exploitation or abuse.

When someone uses their spiritual authority or a person’s emotional dependence to satisfy their own interests, we are faced with something that cannot be reduced to a private moral failing

Not all sexual misconduct necessarily constitutes abuse, and it is essential to distinguish between the facts and the responsibilities. But when someone uses their spiritual authority, their influence or a person’s emotional dependence to satisfy their own interests, we are faced with something that cannot be reduced to a private moral failing. We are faced with a profound betrayal of pastoral trust. And when that happens, it is not enough to deal with the person responsible. We must also look to those who have been hurt, often in silence.

 

Repentance must be directed towards those who have suffered harm

Public statements of repentance may be necessary. But it is not enough to offer a generic apology for ‘mistakes made’ or for having been a ‘stumbling block to the faith’ of the faithful. The harm is not limited to the public witness of the ministry. There may be specific individuals whose lives have been profoundly affected.

When Nathan confronted David, he told him the story of a rich man who took the poor man’s only little lamb (2 Samuel 12). The prophet forced the king to view his sin from the perspective of the one who had suffered the injustice. And when Zacchaeus met Jesus, he did not merely express his repentance: he demonstrated his willingness to make amends for what he had wronged others (Luke 19:8).

True repentance does not focus solely on the guilt of the one who sinned, but recognises the harm caused to others. Above all, this is particularly true in cases where the leader has neither apologised to the victims nor acknowledged the seriousness of their actions – as is all too often the case, both in the past and today.

Therefore, in cases of abuse, we must ask ourselves whether those affected have been offered care, support and redress. If they were unjustly discredited, have those accusations been rectified? Have the proven facts been acknowledged and their consequences accepted? Accountability must translate into verifiable actions, without requiring the victims to be publicly exposed.

 

Those involved in restoration have a responsibility towards the victims

I would like to focus in particular on one aspect that I consider essential. When a group of pastors, mentors or counsellors takes on the task of supporting a leader accused of serious abusive behaviour, their responsibility should not be limited to helping him acknowledge his sin, heal his personal wounds or rebuild his family life.

Public statements of repentance may be necessary. But it is not enough to offer a generic apology for ‘mistakes made’ or for having been a ‘stumbling block to the faith’

If, furthermore, that team intends to assess the leader’s suitability to resume ministerial responsibilities, it has an obligation to ensure a thorough understanding of the facts and their consequences for those affected.

It is not enough to ask the person responsible what they did, listen to their confession and assess whether they appear sincerely repentant. One must also ask who was harmed, what actually happened and whether there are other affected individuals who have not yet been able to speak out.

This is particularly important when allegations involve behaviour repeated over many years, manipulative relationships or an abuse of spiritual authority. In such situations, the person responsible’s account may be incomplete, either because they continue to lie, or because they downplay certain behaviours, failing to fully grasp their seriousness or being unaware of the extent of their consequences.

For this reason, the assessment process should not rely exclusively on their version of events. Have the complainants been offered a safe space to recount what happened? Has an attempt been made to ascertain whether there are other possible victims? Have previous complaints, if any, been examined? Have those who may have been discredited when they tried to speak out been heard?

And, if any women publicly reported certain behaviours, have they been offered the opportunity to give their testimony to a truly independent assessment? Those overseeing a process of restoration must ensure that these questions are answered, even if this requires the involvement of external professionals.

This does not mean conducting indiscriminate investigations, revealing identities or pressuring anyone to make a statement. It means establishing safe, confidential and independent channels; ensuring that those potentially affected know they can turn to them; and ensuring that their testimonies are recorded and examined with rigour and sensitivity.

We cannot assume that the full extent of the harm is known simply because the person responsible has confessed to what they are willing to admit

We cannot assume that the full extent of the harm is known simply because the person responsible has confessed to what they are willing to admit. Nor can we consider that a process has been adequately assessed if only the leader and those in their inner circle have been heard.

Listening to victims does not mean automatically assuming that all allegations have been proven. It means ensuring that they are examined seriously, without prejudice, whilst respecting the rights of all those involved.

And where there are indications of a criminal offence, pastoral action must neither replace nor hinder the investigation by the competent authorities. The truth cannot be established by listening to only one side.

 

Giving a voice does not mean forcing victims to speak

We must be particularly careful when discussing the need to listen to victims. Giving them a voice does not mean demanding that they recount what happened publicly once again, that they appear before a group of pastors, or that they take part in a reconciliation process they have not requested.

 We cannot demand that they forgive publicly, that they meet with those who harmed them, or that they remain silent to protect an organisation’s reputation

Some people will need time. Others will not wish to have any further involvement with the organisation that failed to protect them. And some may prefer to remain silent or seek support outside their former community. All such decisions deserve respect.

Precisely for this reason, channels for listening should offer guarantees of independence, confidentiality and protection against any reprisals. It is not a question of turning victims into tools to facilitate the restoration of the perpetrator. It is about recognising them as people with dignity, rights and needs of their own.

Victims are not at the service of the leader’s restoration process. It is the Church that has a duty of care towards them.

We cannot demand that they forgive publicly, that they meet with those who harmed them, or that they remain silent to protect an organisation’s reputation. We cannot turn their willingness to reconcile into a test of their spiritual maturity.

Support must respect their wishes and their own pace, and may include specialist psychological care, legal advice, protection and measures of redress. Christian forgiveness should never be used to impose silence, avoid accountability or re-establish relationships that are not yet safe.

 

If the process forgets victims it is no ‘restoration’

The prophet Ezekiel records one of God’s most severe accusations against the shepherds of Israel: “You did not strengthen the weak, nor did you heal the sick; you did not bind up the injured [...] but you ruled over them with harshness and violence” (Ezekiel 34:4).

The problem with those shepherds was not merely what they had done wrong. It was also what they had failed to do for the sheep in need of care.

The absence of victims does not prove that they have nothing to say. It may prove that no one has offered them a safe space

This passage should challenge us deeply. Because pastoral responsibility does not end once we have supported the person responsible for abusive behaviour. We must also ask ourselves what we have done for those who suffered the consequences. What support has been offered to them? What opportunities have they had to be heard? What measures have been taken to protect them? What redress is possible? What have we learnt from their testimonies to prevent further abuse?

And if those responsible for the restoration process have not ensured that victims are properly heard, on what knowledge of the facts are they basing their conclusions?

The absence of victims from a restoration process does not prove that they have nothing to say. It may prove that no one has offered them a safe space in which to do so.

Of course, some people may freely choose to decline such an opportunity, and no one should pressure them. Their decision must be respected. But the Church must be able to account for the efforts made to offer a listening ear, protection and support.

We cannot claim that we have acted responsibly simply because a leader has completed a programme of spiritual accompaniment. The assessment of what has happened must also include a review of the harm caused and of the institutional response offered to those affected.

 

Our primary responsibility is to care for the sheep

Peter received a commission from Jesus that should ring constantly in our ears: ‘Feed my sheep’ (John 21:17). He did not tell him to protect his reputation or to defend his ministerial platform. He entrusted him with the care of his sheep. And when the sheep have been hurt by those who were supposed to care for them, our first response cannot be to rush to hand the shepherd’s crook back to him. It must be to tend to the wounded sheep.

A truly restorative Church is not recognised by how quickly it hands back a microphone, but by the faithfulness with which it protects, listens to and cares for those who have been hurt

I want to belong to a Church that believes deeply in repentance, forgiveness and second chances. But I also want to belong to a Church that does not forget those who have been hurt whilst celebrating those opportunities.

A Church where those responsible for accompanying processes of restoration understand that it is not enough to help the leader rebuild their life: it is also necessary to seek out the truth, to listen to those who have suffered, and to help them find justice, protection and care.

Because it is not possible to speak responsibly of holistic restoration if we ignore the extent of the harm or disregard the voices of those who suffered it.

A truly restorative Church is not recognised by how quickly it hands back a microphone, but by the faithfulness with which it protects, listens to and cares for those who have been hurt.

The next article will help us reflect on the biblical limits of rehabilitation. I shall attempt to address the most common theological confusion: the belief that forgiveness obliges us to restore ministerial authority. You can read the first article in this series here.

Marcos Zapata, evangelical pastor, president of the Spanish Evangelical Alliance and member of the Psalm 15 Table in Spain.