Changing a Toxic Climate
Recent reports about key personalities in news organizations being caught up in issues of sexual harassment and abuse have reminded me of the sordid story of Amnon and Tamar found in 2 Samuel 13.
It is hard to imagine any more privileged position in the kingdom than that which Tamar occupied. The beautiful, articulate daughter of King David, Tamar was dressed in finery, served by attendants, and admired by many. Her future was bright and promising.
That all changed the day she becomes the victim of an assault by her brother, Amnon. Tamar’s story mirrors the stories of many who have felt powerless and stigmatized as victims of violence. Tamar is first victimized by the rape itself, and then her injustice is perpetuated by a society that allows a man to get away with rape, while a woman who is an innocent victim bears the shame and disgrace.
Most distressing is the fact that, thousands of years later, this kind of injustice still happens. There are numerous stories—too many to count—of people who have been violated by family, friends, or strangers, scarred by the trauma of the experience, and then forced to bear the unfortunate and inappropriate rejection of friends, family, or society.
Telling and hearing stories like this can be difficult. However, when such stories are untold and unheard, a toxic atmosphere can be created where abuse festers and continues unchallenged. The rape of Tamar and the subsequent murder of Amnon are both violent, hateful acts. We need to acknowledge the fact that sometimes our stories—as individuals, families, and even as people of faith—are similar. It is important to tell Tamar’s story because her story belongs to many people who are the victims of sexual abuse.
The suffering of victims is often compounded by the response, or the lack of response, of leaders. To ignore victimhood is to condone the crime that caused it. Victims need to be acknowledged, defended, protected, and nurtured toward health and wholeness. The first step toward healing is being heard. It is often difficult for victims to tell their stories—because of pride, embarrassment, or a felt need for self-protection. Such transparency puts victims, once again, in a vulnerable place. Those who care enough to listen to such stories need to do so in the kind of setting and with the kind of sensitivity that creates a safe place.
The healing journey from abuse can be a lonely one. Victims may feel that no one else could possibly understand what they have been through and felt. When we listen to victims, we demonstrate that we value them as individuals, affirm their personhood, and acknowledge that they deserve justice.
In many cases, once leaders listen, they will also need to take action, especially when they have the moral duty and positional authority to respond. Such action often includes immediate steps to safeguard the victim, reporting the alleged crime to the proper legal authorities for investigation, limiting the potential for additional harmful actions, and gaining medical and/or emotional assistance for the victim.
Leaders have a responsibility to seek justice for those who are oppressed and not to ignore the wrongs suffered by victims of violence, injustice, or oppression. When leaders ignore the offenses inflicted upon innocent victims, the silence and inaction compounds their suffering and make it easier for injustice to spread.
Leaders seek justice by ensuring that the perpetrators of violence and harm are held accountable for their actions. Leaders extend grace by acknowledging that people have been wronged and by working for their restored health and wholeness.
Excerpts taken from Who’s By Your Side? More Leadership Lessons from the Life of King David (Kansas City: Beacon Hill Press, 2016).
