Abuse scandals still are making news headlines.  Perhaps it is the severe mercy of God that we are not allowed to forget.  There are injuries and injustices to address.  But how can we respond?  This needs to be an ongoing conversation, accompanied by earnest action.  EAI is holding workshops for church and ministry leaders around the country to facilitate conversation and action.  But the starting point has to be compassion.

Though in a completely different context,  Linda Crockett has a story that may begin to help us get a sense of how to begin.

“ONE DAY, I VISITED a Salvadoran community of people who were displaced by the war. They struggled to survive on a scrap of land at the edge of a conflict zone. Many of them were living under shelters of plastic and tin.

The Salvadoran armed forces had come to the community one day, rounded up all of the people, and interrogated them, accusing them of being part of the FMLN. After a few days of occupation and harassment, the military finally left-taking with them all of the food and the few tools the community had. They also took some prisoners, one of whom was an old woman.

She was imprisoned and badly tortured for several months. The military eventually released and returned her to the community as a living reminder of their power-the trauma of the torture had seriously damaged her mind. She could no longer function. She was filled with guilt and pain, because under torture she had made false confessions, agreeing that she and everyone else her torturers named in the community wer e connected to the FMLN.

The woman could not sleep at night; she stumbled from shelter to shelter, begging forgiveness from each family she might have betrayed. I asked the people, What did you do? What happened to this woman?

I will never forget the answer given by one of the community leaders.  A lay catechist in a worn and faded shirt--a humble man full of faith--replied, "We healed her. It cost us a lot, but we healed her."

He said they knew she needed to be listened to, and they knew she needed to be held. They organised themselves so that someone was with her 24 hours a day. She was never left alone. They talked to her, encouraging her to spill out the pain, the rage, the grief.  They held her like a child and let her cry.  Eventually, she recovered from her trauma.

Her healing was costly for the community. Their survival depended upon the labour of each person in the fields where a meagre crop grew. Every day that someone sat with the woman was a day of lost labour, which meant less food. And they had no assurance that the time they were investing in her healing would yield fruit and restore her to them. But they did it--with love, patience, and faith in a God who walks with those who have no one else to depend on, and who cry out for justice.”