Know Better, Do Better: Sexual Assault and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

Hermana Scholl while serving a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

CW: This essay describes sexual assault. If you have been sexually assaulted and need help, call the National Sexual Assault Helpline at 1–800–656–4673 or chat online.

Today my college roommate from freshman year posted the following quote on Facebook:

“Telling your story is a radical act of healing if your reality has been denied or you’ve been conditioned to protect the feelings of another at the expense of your own.”

I have a story that I’ve been trying to tell for a few years. Today I finally wrote it down.

It’s been a hard story to tell both because I’ve been told it doesn’t matter and because it matters so much to me that I don’t want to tell it poorly. My story might make you uncomfortable, but I hope you’ll listen anyway, because it’s true and important. I hope after you read it, you’ll sit with it, so that you and I can heal together.

Here is my story.

Three years ago I was living away from home with limited contact with my family, while volunteering as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, also called the Mormon church. During this time, I was sexually assaulted. To make sure we are all using the same definition, sexual assault is any sexual contact without consent.

I was sitting at a table at the public library with several other people. The man sitting to my left reached into my personal space to brush my hair off my shoulder. Then he lowered his hand, grabbed my left breast, and squeezed it. I froze from the shock. My shock was replaced with disgust at him for groping me and anger at myself for freezing instead of yelling or hitting him. Later, I learned that freezing is a natural response to a sudden, unexpected threat, like sexual assault.

I felt dirty that night, and for weeks afterwards. Logically I knew it wasn’t my fault he made the choice to grope me, but emotionally I kept wondering if I had done something wrong or if I could have prevented it. Was it my fault? But, the truth is, he had sexually harassed every blond haired, blue-eyed, female volunteer who had served in that area for at least the past two years. It wasn’t my fault. It was his. To him, I was just another woman he could use to get his power trip through inappropriate, sexual actions.

Some might say this experience isn’t a big deal. Laugh it off. Forget about it. Other people have experienced worse forms of sexual assault, ones which have left them with physical scars. Being groped didn’t leave bruises or scars or physical evidence of any kind. But, in my life, in my reality, being groped mattered a great deal and so have the responses of those to whom I reported the sexual assault. Both left me with emotional bruising and trauma.

Sexually touching someone without their permission is never, never okay. It doesn’t matter how brief the contact is, if you’ve sexually touched someone without their permission you sexually assaulted them. No amount of sexual assault is moral. No amount of sexual assault is legal. Sexual assault is sexual assault is sexual assault.

When I reported my sexual assault, the response of my church leaders was to ignore the sexual assault, ignore that I would see my assaulter at church, and tell me that they couldn’t do anything about helping me or my mission companion move to a different area, because they would be “concerned for our safety” if we moved to a big city. They completely ignored that my companion and I felt unsafe in that area because my assaulter was constantly around. Somehow it didn’t click in their minds that staying there was also unsafe. The mission president (in charge of all the young, college-aged volunteers) ignored my initial reports until I threatened to call the global church headquarters.

Other leaders made jokes about the sexual harassment and assault. They said it couldn’t have really been all that bad. One of the other mission volunteers, who was in charge of a small group of us, even started sexually harassing me himself. My peers and leaders encouraged me to flirt with the man who sexually assaulted me, saying I could use his obvious attraction towards me to bring him back to church. They didn’t understand he didn’t like me; he liked having power and control over me through sexual assault. Even worse, by asking me to invite him to church my church leaders were effectively saying, “The pain and trauma his choices have caused you don’t matter. The only thing that matters to us is getting this man to church every week. His church attendance matters more than your pain does.”

All of these responses were wrong. They were unkind. They were un-Christlike. These responses told me that my church leaders didn’t care about my reality. They didn’t care that I cried myself to sleep or that I didn’t want to do anything but sleep. They didn’t care that I struggled to leave my apartment. They didn’t care that my body was so stressed I had painful knots in my neck and back for months. By denying my reality, by denying that being sexually assaulted was a significant, negative, and traumatic experience, my church leaders made the trauma from the sexual assault worse and slowed my healing. They also caused additional trauma related to talking about being sexually assaulted, especially with someone I view as having authority. I know there are many church leaders who are good people trying to do good and probably some who would have responded in more compassionate ways to my experience.

The Church teaches that sexual assault is a sin and is never condoned by God. Just a month ago in General Conference, President Nelson said “It grieves me to think that any of you have felt marginalized or have not been believed by a priesthood leader or have been abused or betrayed by a husband, father, or a supposed friend. I feel deep sorrow that any of you have felt sidelined, disrespected, or misjudged. Such offenses have no place in the kingdom of God.” Last year, the Church published a group of pages and resources to help victims of abuse. These resources are accompanied with the statement “Abuse is the neglect or mistreatment of others (such as a child or spouse, the elderly, the disabled, or anyone else) in such a way that causes physical, emotional, or sexual harm. It goes against the teachings of the Savior. The Lord condemns abusive behavior in any form.” Sexual assault is one of many forms of abuse. The Church also teaches that the “first responsibility of Church leaders is to help those who have been abused and to protect those who may be vulnerable to future abuse.”

Yet, my story is not unique.

The unfortunate reality is that there are clear patterns of leaders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints choosing to ignore and cover up sexual harassment and assault. In some cases, the sexual assault is perpetrated by a church leader, who is then protected or rewarded by other church leaders.

In August, Stephen Murdock was arrested for using his phone to take pictures of a woman in a store dressing room. At the time of his arrest, he was serving in his stake as a high council member. With further investigation, it came out that he had previously been a bishop. While serving as a bishop, he had been fired from his job for sexual harassment. Although the stake president knew the circumstances of his firing and had received complaints from women in the stake about his inappropriate behavior, he remained as bishop.

Think about that again: Stephen Murdock remained a bishop even though several women in the stake had told the stake president he was sexually harassing them.

Eventually Murdock was released and called to the high council, where he was serving when he was arrested. After his arrest, he was quickly released from the high council with a “vote of thanks” and the stake president asked for support for him during the difficult time.

Note that there were no requests for support for any victims in the stake, and that stake members who knew of the arrest were encouraged not to talk about it. This request to not talk about what had happened increased the trauma for victims of his previous actions, and placed more people at risk of being similarly harmed.

David Moss resigned from his position within the St. George police system due to sexual misconduct. He was then called as a bishop. Early this year, he was arrested and has been charged with multiple counts, including sexual battery.

In yet another recent case, church leaders coordinated with legal authorities to bring Michael Jensen home from his mission early to face criminal charges related to child sex abuse. Despite knowing of the charges Jensen was facing, the local church leaders then encouraged families with young children to allow Jensen to live with them and babysit their children. One family was told by a local leader that Jensen would be a positive example for their teenage son.

Paul Douglas Burdick, a driving teacher at a school and bishop in the church, was arrested last month for sexually abusing teenage students. This arrest followed another arrest in 2016 for groping three teenage students. Burdick remained bishop after the first arrest but has now been released. Remember, as a bishop Burdick would have conducted many one-on-one interviews with youth whose parents trusted him because of his church calling as bishop.

In more extreme cases, the church has manipulated the victims, trying to silence them and deny the reality of what they have experienced, using legal means. When bishops are told of sexual abuse, they are instructed to call a hotline which directs them to the church law firm, Kirton McConkie Attorneys At Law. Although sometimes these lawyers instruct bishops to contact police and get law enforcement involved, at other times they prioritize protecting the church’s reputation and financial interests over protecting victims of sexual abuse and helping them heal, and protecting potential victims from assault. According to depositions given by Kirton McConkie lawyers and documents leaked from the law firm, abuse related calls are sent to lawyers so that any information disclosed in is protected by attorney client privilege, protecting the information from latter disclosure in lawsuits. One lawyer who has represented victims of child sex abuse within the church characterized it as “a helpline for the lawyers, not for the children or anybody else. It gives them an opportunity to get involved, to quickly send lawyers out there. Talk to victims. Silence them if they can.”

If, as you’ve read these stories you’ve seen yourself and your experiences in them, I am sorry that you have been sexually assaulted, too. If you have a similar story, I’ll listen and believe and cry with you. Whether you’ve had an experience like this or not, I hope you’ll share my story.

Reading these stories might have made you uncomfortable. If so, thanks for sticking with me. These stories are not anti-Mormon, and I am not anti-Mormon. I am anti sexual harassment and anti sexual assault and anti rape. I am anti telling sexual assault victims their pain doesn’t matter. I am anti telling victims their abusers’ eternal salvation matters more than their own.

I am for Christ.

I am for telling hard truths, even if they make others uncomfortable, because it is in discomfort that we learn and grow. I am for turning a light on darkness so we can see to clean up and repair what is broken. Our church culture and our national culture are deeply broken. I’m sharing these hard stories so we can heal as individuals, as a church, and as a culture.

I’m learning how to heal by opening up about what happened to me. Even with healing, I will never be the same person I was before I was sexually assaulted. I hope you won’t be the same after reading my story either. I hope you will sit with it, ponder it, and let it change you and motivate you to act. My personal healing is something that only I am responsible for. But will you join me in healing as a church and as a culture?

One in three women and one in six men in the United States will experience sexual violence of some form in their lifetime. This means that if you look around at church, one third of the women you see have possibly been assaulted. One sixth of the men have possibly been assaulted. That’s a lot of healing, a lot of mercy, a lot of kindness we have to do.

Joining me in healing as a church and a society may seem like a really big thing to undertake. And, it is. It’s bigger than either of us alone. Maybe in the past you’ve ignored allegations of sexual assault because they made you uncomfortable or responded like my Church leaders did. That is in the past. As Maya Angelou said, “I did then what I knew how to do. Now that I know better, I do better.” I’ve made a list of five ways we can do better and start the healing process together.

1. Talk and teach about sexual assault. Recognize any sexual touching without consent as sexual assault. When I was sexually assaulted, I knew it was wrong, that he had made me uncomfortable, and that I shouldn’t have had that experience. But, I didn’t have words to articulate that what he had done to me was sexual assault, at the time. Call sexual assault out by name. Teach others what sexual assault is. Teach the concept of enthusiastic consent.
2. Listen without judgement. If someone tells you they were sexually assaulted, believe them, believe their lived reality, hold space for their trauma, and hold space for them to heal in their own time. Listen to them. Tell them you believe them, that you are sorry they were sexually assaulted, and that its not their fault. Then ask what you can do to support them. Because sexual assault involves losing control, don’t tell them what they should do. Respect their agency to make decisions for themselves.
3. Hold others responsible for their words. Hold those around you responsible when they joke about sexual harassment or sexual assault. If you hear someone joke about sexual harassment or sexual assault, call it out as something that is not funny and not okay to laugh about. Sexual assault and sexual harassment create deep trauma, and jokes about them make the trauma worse for the victim while minimizing the actions of the perpetrator. Remember that one in three women is sexually assaulted during her lifetime. Jokes that minimize victims’ trauma create a world in which trauma is not reported, and perpetrators are not held accountable for their actions.
4. Hold perpetrators accountable for their actions. Hold others, including leaders, who have sexually assaulted others accountable. Ask for public apologies and resignations. Never say “I know them. They never did that to me, so you must be mistaken or confused.” Those who abuse, assault, and traumatize others are very good at hiding their techniques in public view, and especially around those they see as authorities. You wouldn’t tell a murder victim that they couldn’t have been murdered because their murderer didn’t also murder you, or you’ve seen their murderer help at a service project. Don’t do that to sexual assault survivors. If you are worried about false rape accusations, only about 0.5% of rape allegations are false. In comparison, one in thirty-three men and one in six women have been raped at some point in their lives.
5. Donate to help others. Donate to an organization which empowers victims of sexual assault and educates people about how to recognize and respond to sexual assault. Below are a few ideas.

• The Rape, Abuse, & Incest National Network (RAINN) provides resources and support for sexual assault survivors, including a 24/7 live chat and hotline. They also work to educate and prevent sexual violence, help survivors, and ensure that perpetrators are brought to justice.
• The Consensual Project partners with schools and universities to teach students about consent.
• The National Alliance Against Sexual Violence (NAESV) supports legislation related to decreasing sexual violence and helping survivors.
• Your local domestic violence or shelter organizations, which do valuable work in your local community.

Healing a community, a church, a culture from sexual assault isn’t easy or quick. Neither is healing from being sexually assaulted yourself. Whenever I think of when I was sexually assaulted, my body reacts. My stomach muscles clench. My neck hurts. I’m paranoid about making sure no men are near me if I’m in public. Whether or not sexual assault is on my mind, I’m jumpier about being touched than I was before. Even though it’s been about three years, I’m still dealing with the the consequences of sexual assault on a regular basis. I wish I could erase that day and its repercussions from my memory and my body. But I can’t. Instead I’m writing this essay, asking you to join me in healing our church and society.

Will you heal with me?