(Opinion) As a survivor who has spoken out on the sexual abuse crisis in evangelical churches, several parts of Megan Basham’s book Shepherds for Sale are troubling to me. Beyond outing an alleged victim, which was both unethical and cruel, the book states that churches implementing policies to protect children is “uncontroversial.” 

After nearly two decades advocating for robust safety policies within the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC), I can say that I find Basham’s assertion to be misleading.

Specifically, in chapter seven of Shepherds for Sale, Basham states, “The question of how to better protect children was uncontroversial, centering largely on background checks, training in protective processes, and education in reporting to the police.” 

An unsuspecting person might read that and think denominations like the SBC have dealt with their problem of clergy who sexually abuse kids. But they haven’t. Not at all. 

Sure, everyone says they want to protect children. But actually doing it is where things stall. 

Since 2006, I’ve been urging the SBC to establish a panel of independent experts to assess clergy sex abuse reports and a centralized database of clergy who have been credibly accused.

Numerous other survivors and advocates have urged the same thing, but to date, the SBC has failed to create either a panel or database.

Apparently, protecting children is quite controversial. Meanwhile, abusers are given free rein.

According to Child USA, a think-tank dedicated to child abuse prevention, the average age someone abused as a child reports the abuse is 52. This delayed disclosure is part of the harm done by the profound trauma.

This reflects my own story of abuse decades ago by a pastor in a Southern Baptist church in Texas, which I recently recounted in my memoir, Baptistland.

The harmful pattern of abuse, shame, and cover-up

As a 16-year-old girl, I was repeatedly raped by the youth pastor at my church. After this went on for months, he began to tell me that I harbored Satan. This was absolutely terrifying to me.

In hindsight, I think that’s exactly what the youth pastor wanted: to put this enormous, exponentially greater shame onto me, so that I would not talk about it.

Somehow, even in that state of fear, I ended up telling the music minister at that church what had happened. He told me to never again speak of it. And the youth pastor moved on to a bigger church.

For 35 years, I kept silent, accepting the shame that rightly belonged to my rapist. Such patterns of cover-up have ramifications. By the time a person brings forward a report of childhood abuse, the time limit for criminal prosecution has often passed due to the statute of limitations.

Since most child sex abusers are never criminally prosecuted, this means their deeds won’t show up in a background check.

This is why an institutional system of ascertaining credible allegations is so important. A database of those criminally convicted and those with credible reports against them can prevent a potential abuser from church-hopping to new prey.

It won’t bring justice by putting that person behind bars. But it can at least prevent those who are credibly accused from continuing to carry the mantle of trust that the pastorate confers.

Why third-party assessment is essential

As I read Basham’s analysis in Shepherds for Sale, it appears to me that she is mistakenly thinking that an independent third party to assess clergy sex abuse allegations would be primarily to assess allegations about abuse of adult congregants.

In my reading of her chapter on abuse, Basham spends significant space on cases involving allegations against former SBC president Johnny Hunt and comedian John Crist, and one involving another female survivor—all adults.

But countless cases involving allegations about child sexual abuse also need independent assessment. These cases have been outside the justice system in large part because of short statutes of limitation for criminal prosecution (and because civil statute of limitations reforms haven’t yet been enacted in many states).

In the Houston Chronicle’s landmark Abuse of Faith series, several reporters, including Robert Downen, documented over 700 victims—almost all of whom were children at the time of the abuse. To act as though the SBC’s clergy sex abuse problem is centered primarily on the abuse of adults is misleading.

Countless kids, boys and girls, have had their lives absolutely decimated—both by the sexual abuse itself and by the faith group’s recalcitrance and cruelty in dealing with it.

Again, this reflects my own experience. In the early 2000s, when I broke my silence and confronted my childhood church with what had happened, I thought they would do the right thing. But instead, they attacked me.

Though it was profoundly painful, ultimately, they failed to stop me from speaking out. Similarly, many other survivors have also spoken, year after year, about why institutional protections matter for the safeguarding of children.

The need to listen well and frame the issue correctly

One of the best ways to protect church kids in the future is for church and denominational leaders to listen to those who are attempting to tell about abuse in the past.

But the SBC still has no effective system for institutionally listening to reports of abuse.

Though many survivors have come forward in recent years—often at enormous personal cost—they have often been met with institutional stonewalling.

Families with children in Southern Baptist churches need to be aware of these egregious safety gaps. Instead, many of the loudest voices frame clergy sex abuse in ways that seem to diminish the severity and urgency of the crisis.

For example, chapter seven of Shepherds for Sale, titled “#MeToo, #ChurchToo, and an Apocalypse,” includes few if any voices of abuse survivors or experts in this field. (One exception is Basham, who says she is an abuse survivor herself.)

Instead, Basham opens with about eight pages recounting how comedian John Crist was supposedly “canceled” after allegations of abuse involving several young women.

Basham states that Crist—exposed in an investigative article and additional reporting since then—was accused of “emotionally manipulating and harassing women.”

But the focus is on how Crist was “on the cusp of making Christian entertainment history,” which investigative reporting “put an end to”—as if Crist were the victim.

We’re not going to be quiet

Today, the SBC is still failing to prioritize the protection of children. The denomination—and Basham, as well—appear far more concerned with protecting the careers of clergymen and, apparently, Christian comedians too.

So, in the nation’s largest Protestant denomination, has it ever been “uncontroversial” to implement policies to better protect children? Shockingly, it remains extremely controversial.

Recently, Philip Robertson, the newly elected chair of the SBC’s Executive Committee, even tried to discredit and sow doubt about the Abuse of Faith series. And the SBC’s new president, Clint Pressley, made clear that he is “not in favor” of a database that would list abusive church leaders.

But just as I’ve done for 18 years, I will continue publicly advocating for the SBC to establish a database of clergy sex abusers so they can’t church-hop. I’ll also continue urging independent assessments and shared record-keeping, so that congregations can be warned about those credibly accused of sexually abusing minors.

And no matter how recalcitrant the SBC may be, I will continue to speak out, because families deserve to know the truth about the SBC’s irresponsible lack of safeguards for protecting children against predatory pastors.

Many other survivors have joined me and will also continue. There’s no going back. I hope you’ll join us in this effort because, regardless of what Meg Basham says, we still have so very far to go to make children safer.

This commentary does not necessarily reflect the views of The Roys Report.

Christa Brown is the author of Baptistland: A Memoir of Abuse, Betrayal, and Transformation and This Little Light: Beyond a Baptist Preacher Predator and His Gang. Christa, who is a retired appellate attorney, a mom, and a grandma, lives with her husband in Colorado.

Editor’s note: Earlier this summer, Christa Brown was featured on The Roys Report Podcast discussing her story and insights on abuse in the SBC. Click below to listen or watch.