Held by the Shepherd

Sexual trauma and abuse leave wounds that are often carried silently, even within faith communities. Many who sit in our pews each week bear stories that are unseen and unheard, carrying pain that has shaped how they view themselves, others, and even God. Scripture does not ignore this reality. Instead, it meets it with honesty and hope.

Through the familiar images of Psalm 23, God reveals Himself as a protector and healer of the vulnerable, offering rest, safety, and restoration. This picture of the Good Shepherd not only shapes the personal healing journey but also calls the church to become a place where the wounded are truly seen, protected, and cared for.

The first thing the Shepherd does is make the sheep lie down to rest. This detail is easy to overlook, yet it is significant. Trauma often makes us run. We run from difficult feelings and from being present in our own bodies and minds. It is often too painful to be ourselves—with our memories, our fear, and our grief—so we dissociate or disconnect from our thoughts and emotions as a coping mechanism. We may “run” by fighting, freezing, fleeing, or fawning.[*]

So it is important to notice that the first thing the Shepherd does when He catches us in His arms is not to demand answers or explanations, but to hold us. He creates the conditions for rest. In His care we may rest from fear, from anger, from intrusive memories, and from the heavy burdens we have carried for so long.

Jesus, the Shepherd, then leads us beside still waters. He gives us quiet. In a world—and an inner life—that often feels loud and chaotic, His voice is gentle and patient. “Slow down, little one,” He says. “Slow down.” We are led to a quiet place where we can begin to hear His voice in the stillness. As we learn to be present again, without immediately running or shutting down, He restores our souls. Restoration does not happen all at once, but it begins in moments of safety and calm where trust can grow.

We are also led into paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. This does not mean a path without difficulty, but rather a path that is good and life-giving. As healing unfolds, we often find ourselves becoming long-suffering with others because we have been there ourselves. We learn to embrace gentleness, goodness, and meekness, and we begin to understand and practice the principles of temperance. These qualities are not forced; they emerge naturally from a heart that has been tended with care.

For many, pain and sorrow have taken possession for so long that they feel enslaved by them. Trauma can fragment a person’s sense of self, leaving them feeling powerless or disconnected. Under the Shepherd’s care we begin to reclaim our voice and our identity as beloved children of God.

As we continue to follow Jesus, we find that His presence does not remove every valley from our path. Instead we discover peace and safety even as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. In the valley we may bravely face past or present fears, sorrow, and pain because He is with us. We are not abandoned to face these shadows alone. Jesus gives us the staff of faith to steady us and the rod of His comforting protection to guard us. His presence, not the absence of hardship, is what allows us to move forward.

For many, pain and sorrow have taken possession for so long that they feel enslaved by them.

It is here that Jesus feeds us with a banquet. This banquet takes place in the presence of our enemies, a powerful image that speaks to freedom. Our enemies—whether memories, shame, fear, or those who once had power over us—no longer define us. They no longer control our story. Following the banquet comes an anointing. We discover holy purpose, renewed calling, and hope. Our cup overflows, not because our lives are perfect, but because we are held securely by grace. And we inherit the promise that we shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

In this way, our journey of pain is transformed into one of blessing, and we finally find rest in the work of our heavenly Father.

This healing journey is not meant to be walked alone or kept only within a private spiritual experience. As the Shepherd’s care restores individuals, the church family is called to reflect that same safety, gentleness, and protection. What God does for us personally must shape how we live together corporately—especially in the way we care for the vulnerable among us.

Safe Places in Our Church Family

How does the church become that place of refuge? The simplest solution is to know Jesus and to understand how He loved and comforted us, so that we may love and comfort others. A platitude I have always loved for its truth is this: “Treat everyone as if their heart is breaking—it probably is.”

Some safe practices congregations can easily incorporate include the following:

• Ask before giving a hug.

• Think before speaking so that our directives become questions, giving people choices. Preface requests with “Would you be willing?”

• If a Sabbath School classroom has a door, the door should have a window or vision panel. These doors can also be left open for easy egress.

• Whenever an allegation is made, it is very important to call the police and relevant authorities so we do not assume the responsibility of deciding whether an allegation is true. We must never step into the decision-maker’s shoes. We are not trained for this.

• It would be ideal for all leaders to take a brief course on how to interact with others in a group setting. If there are nurses, social workers, or lawyers in the church, they might provide a brief in-service to help leadership understand their legal obligations regarding a reported incident. Much of the time we are advised not to ask probing questions when a report is made, so that the report can be given to the proper authority in full and so that we do not interfere with evidence.

With the assistance of a lawyer, social worker, or nurse, the church should put in place short, easy-to-follow policies for reporting allegations of harassment, inappropriate sexual behavior, and bullying. The North American Division has a series of abuse prevention resources on its website. The Adventist Risk Management website also offers tools for putting a clear system into place.

Common Mistakes

The truth always sets us free. Yet too often we forget this.

Many people keep dark secrets. They are silent sufferers, and unfortunately, when this happens, a predictable pattern often emerges: I wasn’t protected, and I don’t know how to protect. When confronted with a report, these individuals may respond with silence or with an equally inappropriate reaction.

I do not mean to sound unkind, but we all suffer when our teachers and leaders are silent sufferers who have no path toward recovery themselves. I encourage everyone to work on their own healing journey. Let us seek God to comfort and heal us so that we may, in turn, know how to comfort and heal others.

What God does for us personally must shape how we live together corporately—especially in the way we care for the vulnerable among us.

Other mistakes are also common. Church members often take sides, deciding immediately whether something happened or not. These reactions are deeply hurtful because we do not know what truly occurred. Judgment of the parties involved only adds to the harm and never leads to healing.

When an allegation is made, it almost always splits a church. For this reason it is often wise to hire a specialist who can help the church family stay united during such a crisis. Outside help is not a sign of failure; it is often essential when these incidents and reports arise.

We also tend to step into the shoes of decision-makers. We may keep a report secret because we think we are saving someone’s reputation, protecting the church, or doing what is best. In reality this often reveals that we do not understand how to defend the vulnerable.

There is a culture of shame in the nonreligious world, and it can be reflected within church walls. We do not want to believe that these things happen, and we often do not know how to comfort or heal. As a result, we may find ourselves helping the person who acted inappropriately rather than the person who was victimized. To the vulnerable person, this communicates a devastating message: “It’s your fault.”

Often no one ever truly knows what happened to these individuals. They quietly leave the church, sometimes permanently, because they are blamed or shamed. This is precisely the situation in which a counselor who helps the church function as a family can be instrumental.

When the Church Gets It Wrong—and Right

I was once involved in a situation that included audio recordings in which the perpetrator admitted to all the allegations against him. Because these recordings were entered as evidence, the church family had no access to them. And since the members did not attend the hearing or sentencing, they continued to assume this elder’s innocence.

Although the person who was victimized was supported by church administration, she lost her spiritual family and eventually left to attend another denomination. There she was comforted by the pastor and supported by the congregation. My heart still aches for this situation.

In another matter, I witnessed perpetrators being embraced by the arms of the church. Their names were known, their church was known, and everything possible was done for them spiritually and otherwise. I do not know how grateful they were for this forgiveness and kindness, but they continued to be charged—outside of the church—with similar violations of the law.

Meanwhile, the person they victimized within the church was barely cared for. Ethnicity? Unknown. Church attendance? Unknown. Spiritual and physical well-being? Unknown. If this becomes the pattern in our churches, how will we answer in the judgment?

The final two stories, however, offer hope.

One church was dealing with an extremely difficult situation that affected two primary families. The church experienced a painful split, accompanied by anger and confusion. After several church board meetings that included the wider congregation, a counselor was invited to answer questions and speak openly about what had happened and what healing could look like. Slowly, understanding replaced speculation, and a path toward restoration began.

Another church faced the challenge of a returning perpetrator who had served time. To prepare the congregation, they hired a counselor who met with the entire church family on several occasions. These meetings uncovered additional abuse and incidents, but instead of retreating, the church took a leadership role in addressing the situation and supporting healing. The following year, that church grew so rapidly that it was filled to the ceilings and doors. Hats off to that brave pastor.

We do not need to be afraid of ugly situations when we trust that God can heal. The truth really does always come to set us free.

[*] Fight, freeze, fawn, and flight are four basic responses to trauma triggers.