Jesus, Survivor of Sexual Trauma.
You did not misread that. Yes, Jesus Himself was a victim of this abuse — and that means he understands yours.
Afew months ago, I was asked to participate in an interview run by Mallory Wyckoff, who was writing a dissertation on ‘ The Impact of Sexual Trauma on Survivor’s Theological Perception and Spiritual Formation’. She chose to gather data and information by interviewing ten women, varying in ages and denominations, and asking them to talk not only about their experience with sexual abuse but how the church has affected them in their healing both negatively and positively.
I was honored to get to share my story and contribute to her research, and was excited to see the final product. While I knew this would require vulnerability and honesty on my part to recount to her the abuse I had endured, I did not know or expect the layer of liberation and vindication that would come from seeing my story put to ink on paper. Yet, as I read it, what really took my breath away was something that changed the way I viewed Jesus.
Sexual trauma. For many of us, this would not be the first thing that comes to mind when we think of our Savior, if we think of it at all. Truth be told, it wasn’t a connection that I made myself until recently, and it rocked my world.
Let me explain.
Growing up in a Christian environment, I rarely ever heard anyone talk about sexual abuse. In fact, I don’t think I can recall it being mentioned one time from the pulpit or by any leaders that were mentoring me. The only time that sexual abuse was ever talked about was between myself and young friends, sharing stories of pain that were rarely discussed but would come out every now and then, and we would carry the secrets which only bound us closer together as a little community of broken friends.
If you read Mallory’s dissertation, you will read heart-breaking stories of women confessing their abuse to pastors, only to be told to pray for forgiveness because it was their own fault. Church, I love you, but we have to do better than this. Child abuse and sexual brokenness of every kind is not just rampant within the secular world, it is also alive and well in the church.
One in three women have been sexually abused — and these are the facts we have based on the abuse that was reported. I myself was abused a few times throughout my life, and sadly none of these incidents were reported. I know that most of my friends who have also been abused did not report what happened to them. So what does this mean for us? What does this mean for women? What is the actual statistic, the real number? This reality should cause us to weep.
Ido not exempt men from this conversation, because boys are also being victimized here in the United States every day. One in six will be sexually abused before they turn 18. I would argue that just as women have been silenced from reporting their abuse, men have been as well. Perhaps we hear these stories even less because of what we as a society have told men they’re supposed to be.
“Suck it up. Be a man. Real men don’t cry.”
These are words that are now engraved on the hearts of young men, starting at the youngest age, silencing them and reminding them to keep their secrets. Shaming men to never truly feel, or to live the life of healing and fullness they deserve.
I tear up even now thinking about the many men and women who have died with the secrets of their abuse never being told. There are far too many people always living under a burden of fear and shame.
Never allowed to know that it wasn’t their fault.
Never given the dignity to have their stories be heard, and to find that they’re not be alone.
Never allowed to find true freedom from their pasts, and live in peace.
Never being told that Jesus grieves for them in their pain.
Never being told that Jesus understands what they went through, and can offer healing out of a place of experience because he too experienced sexual trauma.
My abuse led me to years of counseling and healing, and I’d be lying if I said I still do not struggle with the effects of the sexual trauma which has been done to me. However, I have done the work necessary to come to a place of acceptance and freedom — and still I find myself shocked to understand that Jesus has compassion on those who have experienced sexual brokenness because He experienced it first.
In Mallory’s dissertation, she quotes Beth Crisp’s ‘Beyond Crucifixion’ and writes this:
“One significant and oft-neglected aspect of Jesus’ death is that he himself was sexually traumatized. He was stripped naked in front of a watching crowd (despite most modern depictions of him wearing a loin cloth), an act that was and remains to this day a degrading experience in Middle Eastern culture. ‘Like a child victim of rape or a victim of snuff porn, Jesus was pinned down, bound, violated, penetrated, torn. He was displayed as a naked object of contempt while the blood poured from his broken body…In his public execution before a jeering crowd, Jesus experienced exactly the kind of objectification that is inflicted upon women, men, and children whose naked bodies are broken for the sexual entertainment of others.’ In this way, God truly did become Emmanuel to all abuse survivors. God stepped into human flesh and endured the types of horrifying abuse and violence that so many have suffered. As Jesus understands and empathizes with human suffering, Jesus also offers a liberation from its effects and healing from the wounds it creates. In his own body, Jesus bore both the wounding of sexual abuse and what is needed for its healing.”
Jesus Himself endured not only the horror of torture, the cross, and carrying the weight of sin for us all — He also experienced sexual trauma. For me. And for you.
Ialways knew that God could relate to my pain in every other way, but not thinking of Him through this lens led me to feel like this part of my story had to be a bit detached from Jesus because He never experienced it Himself. I was wrong. He did, in His own way, and as much as that grieves my heart it makes me fall more deeply in love with Him. To comprehend that my Messiah gets me in the middle of my pain is something that I still have yet to wrap my head around, but fills me with such love.
Becca Stevens, the Founder of Thistle Farms, being a victim of child abuse herself said something truly profound that resonated with me:
“Childhood is not a women’s issue, it is a humanity issue.”
Childhood abuse is an issue for both men and woman. It is a global epidemic that we feel uncomfortable and unqualified to talk about — and yet it is an injustice that I believe the Father’s heart is deeply moved by.
I’ve heard some say that prostitution will always be around because it is the oldest profession in the world. Prostitution has been around since the days of the Bible, because there was always childhood abuse. If we would deal with this issue, I would argue that we could potentially eradicate, if not significantly lower, drug and alcohol addiction, eating disorders, prostitution, and so much more.
Sexual abuse is something that Jesus cares so deeply about. If you yourself have overcome childhood abuse or abuse of any kind, today on behalf of the church I say that I am so sorry.
I am so sorry for what you have carried, and I cry with you today. I know my tears do not change what happened, but I am with you. I pray you will find a little bit of hope in the truth that Jesus is with you as well.
I pray as the church that we can begin to have healthy conversations about this topic. It would be irrational to think that we could solve this issue overnight, but I know that we have to do better. We have to learn how to meet the needs of the hurting ones sitting in our pews. Our congregations are bleeding, waiting for us to acknowledge their pain.
Together we can build a community better than we have ever seen before. A place where victims and abusers can come find to find refuge and the healing they need to leave their pasts behind and find restoration. We can do this together; but we first have to acknowledge that there is a problem and that Jesus deeply cares about this issue.
Emmanuel, God with us.
God with us, in our suffering.
God with you, victim of sexual trauma.
God with you, victim of rape.
God with you, victim of childhood abuse.
God with you, little boy or girl being raped today.
God with you, victims who have turned to drugs or eating disorders or self-harm, all addictions, to cope with your pain.
God with you, men and women who suffer from PTSD, depression, anxiety, and the list goes on and on because of the trauma you endured.
God with you, who have turned to suicide to free you from your pain.
God with you, victim of incest.
God with you, women who have been molested and sexually exploited by pastors, deacons, elders, priests, police men, judges, and those in authority over you.
God with you, young and old, walking the streets and motels tonight being abused all night and all day.
God with you, pimp who exploits women today, because they themselves were once exploited.
God with you, abuser who abused because you were once victim.
God with you, who have suffered any kind of abuse.
God with you. God with me. God with us.
We worship a Saviour who identified with our every need in the most intimate and violating of ways. It’s truly unbelievable.
I struggle knowing how to end this blog because this reality is so heavy. It’s so disturbing and uncomfortable but equally powerful and beautiful — but I worship this God who is in solidarity with my pain, and the pain of those who have unfairly suffered at the hand of our abusers.
He truly is our Emmanuel. Jesus, with us and for us.
I highly recommend reading Mallory Wyckoff’s dissertation, as it is both very informative and heartbreaking to hear story after story and quote after quote on how women had suffered through sexual trauma and sadly did not find the refuge they needed within the church.
