Sex in the Forbidden Zone

Sex In The Forbidden Zone

Is Nothing Sacred? When Sex Invades the Pastoral Relationship, by Marie M. Fortune (Harper & Row, 167 pp.; $16.95, hardcover). Reviewed by James M. Alsdurf, a forensic psychologist in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and coauthor with his wife, Phyllis, of Battered into Submission (InterVarsity).

Marie Fortune addresses with frankness but without cynicism what once might have been considered unthinkable: the betrayal by pastors of those in their care through sexual exploitation.

The author, a United Church of Christ minister in Seattle and executive director of the Center for the Prevention of Sexual and Domestic Violence, charges that the abuse of power by clergy within their professional role is an affront to the church’s call to “do justice and mercy,” an ethical violation of the most serious kind because it affects the full body of Christ.

The Unmentionable Sin

Writing in a fictionalized style that helps us appreciate the nuances of the problem, Fortune explores the situation faced by a mainline church in an “all-American city” when the pastor sexually exploits several of his female parishioners. Called on to serve as an “advocate and pastor” for the six women who were violated by this man, Fortune describes her own journey and that of the victims in their effort to call the institutional church to account. Unfortunately, it is one of mounting frustration as the problem is repeatedly minimized, first by the pastor himself and then by church officials.

Fortune’s central theme is that pastors must maintain clear boundaries within the pastoral relationship. Sexual behavior toward any parishioner is especially destructive because of the unique position of spiritual authority conferred on the pastor. And one cannot excuse such behavior on the grounds that the pastor simply responded “affirmatively to a sexual initiation by the parishioners,” Fortune notes. For the pastor has the “power and the responsibility to maintain these boundaries in order to preserve the pastoral relationship” because it serves the best interest of both pastor and parishioner.

Admitting that false charges do occur and that the majority of pastors are not exploitative, Fortune contends that nonetheless the double betrayal of victims—first by their pastors and then by an unresponsive church—is the major reason for the proliferation of lawsuits against the clergy.

The church must “tell the truth” about this problem by acknowledging when such violations occur, express compassion toward those who suffer, protect the vulnerable, require accountability and restitution, and vindicate those who have been injured. It must not equate protecting the minister’s reputation with protecting the cause of the gospel. Such a mindset is not merely hypocritical, she says, it is complicity with evil.

Fortune calls for the establishment of clear ethical guidelines concerning clergy misconduct by each denominational body. Clergy must know that it is “unwise, impractical, and unethical for a pastor to engage in dual relationships. A minister cannot responsibly be pastor/counselor and lover/partner with the same person at the same time.” To do so is to be guilty of “exploitation of vulnerability, misuse of authority, absence of authentic consent, and creation of dual relationships.”

Calling for official evaluation by church bodies when allegations of sexual exploitation occur, Fortune outlines a helpful three-step process: formal, written complaint; adjudication through a hearing; and empowerment of a committee/board to take action. She urges denominations to develop “unequivocal policies and procedural safeguards to help churches avoid hiring an offending pastor.”

Early Prevention

Prevention begins in seminary, she feels, with seminarians trained to be aware of the power that will be conferred on them as ministers, the importance of maintaining boundaries within relationships with parishioners, the need to care for their own emotional and sexual needs, and the importance of consulting with professional peers.

Fortune’s message is weakened by the fact that she does not emphasize the morality of sexual activity. In fact, she seems to lack a clear theology of sexuality that would affirm how fidelity can protect both pastor and parishioner. “Ministers have the same rights as everyone else,” Fortune asserts. By failing to acknowledge that morality is the groundwork for ethical behavior rather than the converse, her position loses impact and falls short of a biblical understanding of sexuality.

Whether or not one agrees with Fortune’s full analysis of how the church has become an environment in which exploitation can occur—its myopia about the problem of abuse by clergy, a failure to acknowledge the power inherent in the pastoral role, the familial model of congregational life that predisposes the church to such problems—she should be thanked for her courage and balance in tackling this troubling problem.

South Africa: A Prisoner Of Heresy

The Passing Summer: A South African’s Response to White Fear, Black Anger, and the Politics of Love, by Michael Cassidy (Regal Books, 534 pp.; $16.95, hardcover). Reviewed by Arthur P. Boers, pastor of Windsor Mennonite Fellowship in Windsor, Ontario, Canada.

Hard-line attitudes about South Africa are common, but few understand that embattled country. Michael Cassidy, a white South African troubled by apartheid, not only understands his country but is doing something to heal it. An evangelist, he works for revival and reconciliation. He founded the Africa Enterprise, a multiracial, interdenominational evangelistic association, which sponsors national days of prayer, meets with leaders in the conflict (many of whom profess Christianity), and sends whites to live with blacks in areas of racial tension. Cassidy writes with passionate hopes for change.

The World’S Laboratory

South Africa is a laboratory for the world as it reflects global racial proportions: whites are outnumbered five to one. Cassidy quotes Richard Neuhaus: “The debate about the future of South Africa is … about the future of our life together on this small earth—about relations between rich and poor, between races and ideologies, indeed about the meaning of freedom, peace, and justice in a deeply disordered world.”

Combining autobiography, theology, and political analysis, Cassidy fears that his country may soon be beyond redemption, often quoting Jeremiah 8:20: “The harvest is past, the summer has ended, and we are not saved.” Inspired by both Billy Graham and Martin Luther King, Jr., Cassidy is not easily categorized, acting as a bridge to the different sides and promoting costly reconciliation in the face of increased polarization.

Cassidy sympathetically sees Afrikaners as “wounded by history” and “prisoners of heresy.” The Dutch arrived in the 1600s and the British a century later. Religious clashes between them led the Dutch Afrikaners to leave; they moved to the hinterland as the British promised they could be independent there. But the British later wanted Afrikaner territories when gold and diamonds were discovered. The Boer War ensued (1899–1901). Afrikaners lost 28,000 people (mostly women and children in concentration camps) and 3,800 soldiers.

Afrikaners grew resolute in wanting independence: “National grief always binds people more poignantly and powerfully than national triumph.” The British tried to quash Afrikaner culture. Thus nationalism gelled into a political movement that took power in 1948. Apartheid became national policy as a way to preserve “racial and cultural variety.”

Blacks bear the brunt of Afrikaner independence. Cassidy commends many blacks: “Their capacity to bear pain, to tolerate indignity, to forgive, to dredge up new goodwill from who knows where and still be gracious never ceases to amaze me.” Included are astounding tales of reconciliation, usually initiated by blacks. Unfortunately, the subtitle, “white fear, black anger,” reflects a weakness. Fear is understandable, but anger is negative. Cassidy tells nothing of black history and does not explain the major conflicts among blacks.

Cassidy’s book covers too much material (even details of his grandparents’ courtship). It explains evangelism, the biblical case for civil disobedience, the stages of spiritual formation, the case against economic sanctions, and the failures of liberation theology. He sometimes footnotes trivial matters (a conversation with his mother), but some quotes from major figures are not footnoted. Fewer lengthy quotes would have been a mercy and an index would have made the book more useful.

Idealism And Cruelty

“There is no hope for national reconciliation without the body of Christ first showing the way and paying the price.” Cassidy calls evangelicals to work for a politics that embodies God’s love. “It is a great tragedy for a country … when Christians refuse to take their part in administration and public service, and leave all that to non-Christians, some of whom will be selfish, godless, self-seeking and partisan.”

Alas, “black Christians feel white [Christians] are not interested in either costly obedience or costly reconciliation, because we refuse to repent of our participation in injustice.” Frank Chikane, the black secretary general of the South Africa Council of Churches was tortured by a white deacon from his own denomination.

Cassidy quotes Alan Paton: “Apartheid is the finest blend of idealism and cruelty ever devised by man.” Four out of five South Africans profess Christianity. The cabinet has regular prayer meetings. A friend of mine spent a year as a political prisoner there and was allowed one book, a Bible. (He bought the biggest study edition he could find.)

In South Africa, the gospel is distorted by oppression cloaked in Christianity. Cassidy fears that this will produce “the first generation of black atheists who have thrown the Book away, tossed God out, and taken to the gun.” We must pray that the gospel will be associated with people such as Michael Cassidy who work hard for a new day.

Tracking The Miraculous

The Power Beyond: In Search of Miraculous Healing, by Jack Grazier (Macmillan, 296 pp.; $17.95, hardcover). Reviewed by John R. Hughes, a free-lance writer in Madison, Wisconsin.

When newspaper editor Jack Grazier and his wife, Debbie, had tried unsuccessfully for six years to have their second child, they finally turned to a Christian faith-healing team, Charles and Frances Hunter. After being prayed over by this couple and “slain in the Spirit” at one of their services, Debbie became pregnant, and the Graziers believed it was the miracle the Hunters had promised them. This gift from God launched Jack Grazier on an unexpected voyage into the world of God’s grace, miraculous healing, uncommon faith, and much groping with the nature of the intersection between flesh and Spirit. The Power Beyond charts Grazier’s journey so far.

Framed by Grazier’s reflections on the purpose of suffering and many anecdotes of healing, this well-written, thoroughly researched, and hopeful book tells the story of two Pennsylvania mayors—Lou Tullio of Erie and Richard Caliguiri of Pittsburgh—friends stricken almost simultaneously with the same rare and fatal disease called amyloidosis. With the help of their friend Jack Grazier, the participating observer, they cope with their illness and seek healing.

Fortunately, they do not look for a quick fix of cheap grace but take stock of their priorities and lifestyles, and, at Grazier’s encouragement, they open their hearts to Christ in their lives. In observing his friends and writing this book, Grazier also grows in his relationship with God and brings us along for the journey.

That Caliguiri dies and Tullio is still sick by book’s end is sad and will dissatisfy some, but this is what happened. And along the way, reading about the courage of the mayors, especially Tullio, is vitally inspiring. The example of Grazier’s deepening faith in God’s healing will help the reader’s faith do likewise.

The Power Beyond is refreshing and entertaining. The self-disclosures of thought and mood that Grazier risks are vigorously honest and funny—he is not a sentimental idealist nor overly credulous, but he is a likable, open-eyed, trained skeptic astonished by his discoveries. His conclusions are ultimately faith affirming, while also careful to assert God’s sovereignty in matters of life, death, and daily health.

When Grazier reflects on Robbie Snyder, a Pennsylvania boy left comatose by a tornado’s destruction, who has recovered only partially after three years of urgent prayers, or on Linda Martel, a child faith-healer who healed hundreds and saw visions, but suffered a lot herself and died young, we must acknowledge that the Lord will heal whom he chooses, according to his timing and definition of “healing.” When Grazier reminds us of the never-ending parade of evil and sorrow passing through the newsroom where he works, we must admit no easy answers. But still, he finds the healing power of God to be real, and his struggle to grow in belief is a beautiful wrestling match with life’s imponderables.

Grazier’s research of the faith-healing course at Fuller Theological Seminary, the history and ongoing phenomenon of Lourdes, the agony at the local hospital, and the ministries of such individuals as Francis MacNutt and Kathryn Kuhlman complements the story of the mayors’ illness.

He discovers that, indeed, some “miracles” are no such thing, but well-meaning, wishful interpretations of ambiguous data. There are cruel charlatans in the faith-healing world, exploiting the sick. But Grazier also discovers that there are thousands of verified, recorded medical cures, acknowledged by doctors as scientifically inexplicable, which followed faith healers’ prayers.

The efficacy of prayer for healing is a documented fact. Grazier’s record of this reminds us of our freedom to pray for healing in our individual and corporate lives here and now. His is an immensely worthwhile contribution.

It is necessary to quibble with Grazier on a couple of points. First, some of the comments by people in the book come perilously close to the heresy of the “health-and-wealth gospel,” which teaches that God does not allow suffering, sickness, or poverty for those with strong-enough faith. Grazier himself stays clear of such thinking and quotes many people who acknowledge God’s sovereignty in all matters while praying assiduously for healing. He would have done better to express clearly his disagreement with and disassociation from such a trap.

Second, Grazier repeatedly uses the phrase “Western rationalism” as synonymous with “unbelief” or a similar derogatory term. Of course, “Western rationalism,” which is logical thought, the scientific method of inquiry, and a respect for cause-and-effect in nature, has provided enormous blessings to our civilization. But it is not mutually exclusive with faith, even faith in miracles. Grazier was not careful to indicate this. Yet this pair of shortcomings does not hurt the book significantly.

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