For many rape victims, the pastor or priest is their last hope of understanding or sympathy.
Danny Armstrong
She will come to your office as most others do, by appointment. The rape took place quite some time ago, perhaps months, perhaps years. Only now has she worked up enough courage to talk about it. At first she probably will not mention the rape itself, but some of her resultant problems: a feeling of despair, inability to trust people, fear, and others. If you really listen and feed back her feelings accurately, chances are she will proceed past these presenting problems to the one she really came to talk about — her rape. Your first obligation then, is to listen. Without this crucial step, she may never reveal her true problem.
If she accepts the risk and reveals that she had been raped, you should know seven feelings common to rape victims. There are others, but these seem to be recurrent.
Common Feelings
Number one is angry. Rape victims are some of the most intensely angry people I have ever met. They are “mad as hell” and would kill their rapist if they knew who he was and if they could get away with it. But they are not just angry with their rapist. They are angry about people’s attitudes who look upon rape as a sexual crime instead of a crime of violence. They are outraged at injustice, as rapists are set free on bonds, given light or suspended sentences, or paroled early. They are furious at having been violated personally.
Number two is dirty. Despite numerous bathings, the rape victim cannot feel clean, at least not for a long time. She feels contaminated and degraded. Even her right to cleanliness and hygiene has been taken away from her.
Number three is hopeless. One day she was happy, optimistic, productive, and future-oriented. The next day she was raped. And the day after that she lost life. She was robbed of the intangibles that make life worth living. Now she barely can see or think ahead until the next day. Next week is beyond her vision, next month is unthinkable, and next year unimaginable.
Number four is guilty. Few people have given her any sympathy. The unspoken prejudice is that only loose women are raped. Those with whom she has been able to talk about her rape have had a morbid curiosity about the sexual aspects. It doesn’t take long for the message, whether verbal or facial, to come through — the rape victim is really not a victim but a conspirator. She quickly learns to play “If.” “If” I had only installed door and window locks. “If” I had only used them. “If” I hadn’t gone out that night. “If” I had left a little earlier.
Number five is alone. Being raped is not dinner-table conversation. You just don’t talk about it. But eventually she must, so she risks it with a few friends she thought would understand. They don’t, and she learns to withdraw. She feels estranged, alienated, and alone. Her whole world view has been turned upside down so that she is no longer the carefree trusting person she was. She finds it extremely difficult, if not impossible, to make new friends, and the ones she had from before are drifting away because “you’ve changed so much.”
Number six is afraid. When a woman is being raped, she is sure she is going to die. Never before has the victim experienced or even imagined such violence. To say that the rape victim is afraid during the rape is a gross understatement. Terrified is more like it, but words cannot suffice. And the fear doesn’t leave with the rapist. The victim is now a nearly classic paranoid, fearing everyone and everything. Sleep comes reluctantly. Life is now lived on the edge.
Number seven is grief-stricken. We grieve when we lose something important to us. The rape victim’s loss is profound. She has lost not another loved one; she has lost her own loved one, herself. She feels less than whole. She has lost control of her life. She has lost hope. She has lost dignity and self-worth.
Approaches to Counseling
Remember that up to this point you still have not spoken. You have taken a moment to sense the rape victim’s state of mind and emotions. Now it’s time to respond. What should you say first?
Whatever it is, you should make sure it’s clear you are siding with her. Probing and asking questions demonstrates conditional acceptance, a form of rejection. For many rape victims, the pastor or priest is their last hope of understanding or sympathy. Rejection here is devastating. She needs to know immediately that you are an advocate, one who will take her side, one who understands. The circumstances surrounding the rape don’t make any difference. She has not come for counseling as a chief witness in the midst of a trial, but as a victim in the midst of a tragedy. The pastor or priest is God’s representative, and God accepts people unconditionally.
Having sided with her, you must now try to meet her needs in terms of the feelings she is having. This can’t be done in a single session, nor should it be rushed. But as time and circumstances allow, several steps may be taken. Keep in mind that she has chosen to come to the minister as a “holy person,” a man or woman of God, and therefore expects insight and comfort from a spiritual perspective.
First, let her ventilate her angry feelings. Point out that anger is sometimes not only appropriate, but right. Jesus became so angry that he made a whip and physically drove the money-changers out of the temple (John 2:15-16). The Bible differentiates between anger and sin. “Be angry but do not sin …” wrote Paul (Eph. 4:26).
Hatred and anger go hand in hand, and the rape victim feels both. Anger, however, is more general in nature. Hatred is reserved specifically for the rapist. It is more enduring, too, outlasting the multi-directed anger by far. At some point, after rapport and spiritual maturity are present, you have an obligation to assist the victim in letting go of this hate. As long as she hates, she is still subject to the rapist’s control. Her emotional and psychological energy is consumed by her hatred. Only when she can let go and volitionally forgive will she regain complete control of her life. As Jesus explained it, “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin” (John 8:34).
Your chief instruments of cleansing are prayer, the Scriptures, and, for many, the addition of the sacraments. Like the ten lepers who felt dirty, not because of something they had done but because of something that happened to them, the rape victim needs to know that she can be cleansed and restored completely (Luke 17:11-19). Ephesians 5:25-27 fits beautifully, as Paul describes the cleansing power of Christ upon his church: “Having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.”
Baptism and/or Communion might be meaningful experiences of cleansing for the rape victim. Baptism, of course, is an initiatory rite into the Christian community and should be so regarded. But in format, it is a ceremony of cleansing and, if appropriate, might be so used. Communion, with its elements of bread and wine representing the body and blood of Christ, is also a ceremony of cleansing. Reflect for a moment on Revelation 7:14, “These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.”
Affirm the future by holding out the hope that a return to normal living is possible. If the victim appears open to such a message, the pastor may want to affirm that our God is a God who can make evil turn against itself, that he can make good come out of evil. “We know that in everything God works for good with those who love him …” (Rom. 8:28).
In addressing feelings of guilt, take a two-pronged approach. We all feel both real guilt and false guilt. False guilt is placed on a rape victim by the attitudes and comments of others. She needs to hear again of her goodness, of her worth and value. She needs to be certain that she is the victim and not the criminal.
Real guilt lurks behind the scenes of every human event, and in a cause-effect world, it is difficult not to see God involved somehow. Every rape victim can look back into her own life, as each of us can, and recall the “sins” for which we may believe God is punishing us. Two things need to be done here. One is to relieve anxieties about that real guilt. This can be done fairly straightforwardly. “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just, and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). The more difficult problem has to do with her view of God. Is he aloof, withdrawn, and unconcerned about the individual tragedies of our lives? Is he a stern taskmaster, a “you made your bed, now lie in it” God? Is he a harsh disciplinarian, punishing us for our sins? Or is he a loving Father who hurts when we hurt and who wants to meet our needs?
To help her work through her sense of loneliness, be not only an advocate, but a friend — someone to talk to, who will listen without an agenda, except when advice is asked for. A referral to another rape victim or a support group may be appropriate, but it should not be a way of copping out. She came to the minister to find a religious perspective. Encourage her to attend and participate at church, particularly in those activities centered on fellowship.
Encourage her to call whenever she wishes. She may need assistance in getting locks and security devices installed in her home. Pray with and for her. Encourage her to read the 23rd and 27th Psalms. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil …” and “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?” are comforting words.
Finally, her grief should be ministered to as any other grief. The ministry of presence is of value. Learn what a normal grief process is like and assist her through its phases. Granger Westberg’s Good Grief was written with a view to those whose loved ones have died, but its table of contents reads like the rape victim’s diary: “We are in a state of shock. We express emotion. We feel depressed and very lonely. We may experience physical symptoms of distress. We may become panicky. We feel a sense of guilt about the loss. We are filled with hostility and resentment. We are unable to return to usual activities. Gradually hope comes through. We struggle to affirm reality.”
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