Religion and Intimate Partner Violence: Understanding the Challenges and Proposing Solutions [1 ed.] 9780190607210, 0190607211

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Religion and Intimate Partner Violence

Interpersonal Violence Series SERIES EDITORS Claire Renzetti, Ph.D. Jeffrey L. Edleson, Ph.D. Parenting by Men Who Batter: New Directions for Assessment and Intervention Edited by Jeffrey L. Edleson and Oliver J. Williams Coercive Control: How Men Entrap Women in Personal Life Evan Stark Childhood Victimization: Violence, Crime, and Abuse in the Lives of Young People David Finkelhor Restorative Justice and Violence Against Women Edited by James Ptacek Familicidal Hearts: The Emotional Styles of 211 Killers Neil Websdale Violence in Context: Current Evidence on Risk, Protection, and Prevention Edited by Todd I. Herrenkohl, Eugene Aisenberg, James Herbert Williams, and Jeffrey M. Jenson Poverty, Battered Women, and Work in U.S. Public Policy Lisa D. Brush Child Victims and Restorative Justice: A Needs-​Rights Model Tali Gal Battered Women’s Protective Strategies Sherry Hamby Men Who Batter Nancy Nason-​Clark and Barbara Fisher-​Townsend When Men Murder Women R. Emerson Dobash and Russell P. Dobash Comparative Perspectives on Gender Violence: Lessons from Efforts Worldwide Edited by Rashmi Goel and Leigh Goodmark Religion and Intimate Partner Violence: Understanding the Challenges and Proposing Solutions Nancy Nason-​Clark, Barbara Fisher-​Townsend, Catherine Holtmann, Stephen McMullin

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Religion and Intimate Partner Violence Understanding the Challenges and Proposing Solutions

N A N C Y N A S O N -​C L A R K B A R B A R A F I S H E R -​T O W N S E N D C A T H E R I N E H O LT M A N N AND STEPHEN MCMULLIN

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1 Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and certain other countries. Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press 198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America. © Oxford University Press 2018 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by license, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reproduction rights organization. Inquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above. You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer. CIP data is on file at the Library of Congress ISBN 978–​0–​19–​060721–​0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Printed by Sheridan Books, Inc., United States of America

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CONTENTS

Preface  vii 1. Introduction  1 2. Victims/​Survivors  26 3. Abusers  62 4. Congregations  99 5. Training Religious Leaders and Faith-​Based Resources  129 6. Collaborative Community Responses  155 Appendix 1. Research Projects and Methodology  183 Appendix 2. Publications of Our Team Related to Religion and Abuse  189 Web-​Based Resources  195 References  197 Author Index  217 Subject Index  223

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PREFACE

Within a short distance of my office window at the cottage that overlooks the beautiful Saint John River, there is an enormous nest that is home to two adult eagles and their two juveniles. Each year, for at least the past 15 years, there have been eagles that return to this nest in the spring to live together and nurture their young. The soaring eagle is a beautiful sight, but so too is the eagle as it repairs its nest, feeds its young, and teaches its young to fly on their own. Like the eagle, for more than 30 years, I have been returning each summer to my favorite spot on earth—​my cottage. Here, my husband and I have planted gardens, built gazebos and wharfs, and tended to the needs of our children as they matured. Amid the work and the relaxation that occur here, we have tried to teach our daughters how to enjoy and learn from each other and then to eventually leave the nest. In a few weeks, we will be welcoming our infant granddaughter, Aeris, for her first visit to the cottage, and so the cycle continues. So I am exceedingly grateful for this beautiful place where I work each summer. The cottage has offered me the mental and physical space to breathe deeply and sustained time to think and to write. In contrast to my research interests, my personal life has been characterized by stability and support, and my family (including David, Natascha and Jaron, and Christina and Sean) has contributed so much more than I could ever ask of them to my emotional well-​being. I am exceedingly grateful to those who have funded my research program; to the University of New Brunswick (UNB), my intellectual home for more than 30 years; and to the large number of outstanding graduate students with whom I have had the pleasure to supervise—​many of whom have gone on to develop impressive careers of their own. Lori Beaman, Barbara Fisher-​Townsend, Cathy Holtmann, Steve McMullin, Christy Hoyt, Lanette Ruff, Joanne Galbraith, Michelle Spencer-​Arsenault, and Amanda Steeves were at some point involved in the collection of data related to domestic violence. I thank the men and women who worked in agencies or ministered in congregations where we collected data. A special thank-​you to those who were willing to be interviewed on one or many occasions. With deep appreciation, I acknowledge the financial support of the Louisville Institute for the Study of Protestantism and American Culture, the Lilly Foundation, the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council, the Lawson Foundation, Status of Women Canada, a Fichter Award, and a Constant Jacquet Award. The designation of UNB Research Scholar offered me a slightly lower teaching load during the past 2 years. In my administrative roles at UNB, I have been

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privileged to work with excellent administrative assistants, and Tracy MacDonald is one in a million. There are many other colleagues worldwide who have joined me on my academic journey, through conferences and collaborations, and I have the continued pleasure of reconnecting with them on a regular basis. Here, I recognize the support, encouragement, constructive criticism, and good times we have enjoyed and from which I have benefitted greatly. Writing a book with Barb, Cathy, and Steve has been a very enjoyable process for me, and I appreciate so much their collective intellect, work ethic, tremendous good humor, and great culinary skills. Often, our meetings involve food and always they include laughter and stories. Together, we are grateful to Dana Bliss at Oxford University Press and to other staff who assisted in various roles. We appreciate Claire Renzetti and Jeffrey L. Edleson for including this book in their Interpersonal Violence Series and acknowledge with gratitude the anonymous reviewers who offered helpful comments along the way. Nancy Nason-​Clark Aysgarth Lane Kingston Peninsula, NB July 14, 2016

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Religion and Intimate Partner Violence

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Introduction

Intimate partner violence is a complex, ugly, fear-​inducing reality for large numbers of women throughout the world. Although proportionately women are far more likely to be the victims of abuse, and men the perpetrators, some men are battered and some women are the aggressors. When violence exists in a relationship, safety is compromised, shame abounds, and peace evaporates. Children are always impacted whether or not they are the targets of specific abusive acts on the part of either parent. Violence is learned behavior, and it flourishes most when it is ignored, minimized, or misunderstood. Early detection and intervention is critically important, but so too is compassion and the application of best practices for those impacted by it. Prevention is the ultimate goal. Religious families are not immune to the frequency, severity, or long-​term consequences of the problem of abuse. When violence strikes the homes of deeply religious women, they may be more vulnerable. They are more likely to believe that their abusive partners can, and will, change. They are less likely to leave a violent home temporarily or forever. They are often reluctant to seek outside sources of assistance. They are frequently disappointed by the response of the religious leader to their call for help. Often, they believe they are called by God to endure the suffering, to forgive (and to keep on forgiving) their abuser, and to fulfill their marital vows for better or for worse until death do us part. Sometimes they fear that calling 911 or going to a transition house for shelter will raise suspicions about their spiritual maturity. Sometimes religious batterers employ explicitly religious language to justify the violence toward their intimate partners. It is not uncommon for men who batter to manipulate spiritual leaders and to ensure that they alone receive the support of the congregation.

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This book seeks to navigate the relatively uncharted waters of intimate partner violence in families of deep faith, or strong religious convictions. We examine the specific challenges that are raised, or exacerbated, when violence and religion comingle in intimacy and shared family experiences. We isolate and examine the boundaries of the reality of fear but also the power and complexity of human agency, the reality of control but also the power of those who are prepared and trained to assist, and the centrality of faith—​through pastoral or spiritual care—​to mediate and negotiate strategies for those impacted when abuse strikes the homes of the faithful. Understanding the challenges posed by violence when victims or perpetrators or both are highly religious is extremely important for those who work with women and men impacted by abuse. Secular community-​based workers find it very difficult to work with the highly religious, whereas pastors and priests find it very difficult to work with the violated and violators. Both sacred and secular professionals—​clergy and community-​based workers alike—​find it difficult to cooperate and collaborate. There is fear and mistrust on both sides, fuelled by experiences of working with people who do not understand or respect those who differ from themselves. The program of research on which this book is based spans more than 25 years and includes a wide variety of specific studies involving religious leaders, congregations, battered women, men in batterer intervention programs, and the army of workers who assist families impacted by abuse. These include criminal justice workers who are engaged in the justice part of the story (police, parole, probation, and judges), therapeutic staff who are involved in intervention or support (social workers, group facilitators, and therapists), advocacy workers (in emergency shelter or outreach programs), and religious workers (e.g., pastors, clergy, seminary students, and elders/​lay leaders from a variety of faith traditions). As we develop the themes of the various chapters, we will rely on the data generated from our various studies to provide the rich and colorful portrayal of the intersection of intimate partner violence and religious beliefs and practices that inform and interweave throughout daily life. Such a focus on lived religion1 will enable us to isolate, examine, and evaluate ways in which religion both augments and thwarts the journey toward justice, accountability, healing, and wholeness for women and men caught in the web of intimate partner violence. Later in this chapter, we situate our story of understanding intimate partner violence and religion amid the growing literature on domestic violence, the emerging writing on lived religion in America and elsewhere, and the ever-​increasing but still relatively infrequent calls for religious leaders to take notice of abuse among the faithful. First, however, we turn to our story: how we began researching abuse, our program of research, what we each bring to the project, and our understanding of the issues. O U R ST ORY OF  RE SE ARCHING RE LIGION A N D INT IMATE PAR TNE R V IOLE NCE

We began working together many years ago. For some time before that, I (Nancy) had been exploring how communities of faith were responding to abuse, including how they were sometimes directly responsible for it, as in the case of clergy predators. My first government report on issues of child sexual abuse was prepared in 1987; I helped establish the Muriel McQueen Fergusson Centre for Family Violence Research at the

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University of New Brunswick (UNB) in the early 1990s; and Westminster/​John Knox Press published my first book on wife abuse in Christian families in 1997, titled The Battered Wife: How Christians Confront Family Violence. Barbara joined my research team as a doctoral student, worked with me later on a 3-​ year postdoctoral fellowship, and we have collaborated ever since—​whether she is living in Florida or on the east coast of Canada. Cathy returned to university after many years of employment as a Roman Catholic chaplain in a university setting, completed two graduate degrees under my supervision, and she now serves as Director of the Muriel McQueen Fergusson Centre for Family Violence Research at UNB. Steve is an ordained Baptist minister who currently holds the post of Academic Dean at Acadia Divinity College in Wolfville, Nova Scotia. Previously, Steve served for 27 years as a pastor before returning to university and beginning to work with our team. Throughout the years, I have worked with a fantastic group of graduate students, many of whom have become colleagues and co-​partners in research. Although they were not involved in any direct way with this book, many former graduate students played a role as a research assistant in one of the many projects this book highlights. Their names are mentioned in the Preface. The research of our team has been enriched by a vast array of religious perspectives and persuasions of those connected to it. Although not all the women and men connected to our team were people of strong religious convictions themselves—​and a few were decisively not religious—​most were involved at some level with a particular faith community, as sympathizers, members, or activists, and some would place themselves in the “lapsed” category. OUR R ES EARCH PROJE CTS

During the past 25 years, we have been engaged in a wide variety of studies on abuse and religion. Taken together, these projects, outlined in Appendix 1, offer a window into how congregations and their leaders understand abuse and respond to those impacted by it—​victims as well as perpetrators. In the early years, we were focused on clergy and religious women who were survivors. Using diverse methodologies, we sought to understand what happens when a religious woman looks to her faith community for help after she has experienced some form of abuse by an intimate partner. We wanted to tell her story from her perspective, but we were also interested in the story of religious leaders, told from their perspective. We employed quantitative and qualitative research strategies in our search for answers, and we conducted interviews, focus groups, and surveys among church leaders and the women connected with parishes associated with numerous Christian denominations. Alongside our work in congregational life, we began projects that attempted to understand the perspective of community-​based professionals and agency workers who found themselves assisting religious clients or were in contact with religious leaders. Here, we collected data from staff of transition houses and others employed as advocates, as well as criminal justice workers such as police, probation, and parole officers. Later projects focused more fully on the response of agency workers to those who act abusively and the stories of the abusive men. For a period of 4  years, we interviewed 50 men every 6 months who were connected with one batterer intervention

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program, and in another agency we collected data from more than 1000 case files representing a 10-​year period of the agency’s work with abusive men. As part of Barbara’s dissertation, she went to court to observe domestic violence cases, and together we interviewed many workers involved in the lives of men who batter, such as parole and probation officers, group facilitators and other agency staff, as well as a few judges. For several years, we were involved in research projects at various seminaries in Canada and the United States where Steve collected both survey and focus group data from more than 400 students. One of our studies, Cathy’s dissertation, involved interviews with 58 Christian and 31 Muslim women who had settled in the Atlantic Region within the past decade; Cathy also conducted a cross-​Canada research project on Roman Catholic resources for domestic violence. Another study, Steve’s dissertation, examined the social aspects of congregational decline. Other graduate and undergraduate honors projects connected with our team involved the role of women clergy in cases of abuse, church youth groups and family violence, and the role of religion and congregations in the lives of Catholic or Mennonite or Baptist women. Most of these projects were based in North America, but there were some research endeavors in Jamaica, Croatia, Germany, and India. As our book unfolds, we focus on the stories of battered religious women as told to our research team, as well as the narratives of violence told by women to clergy or secular service providers whose help they have sought. By focusing on data collected over many years and several different projects, we are able to examine some of the contours of how women of faith talk about their experience of domestic violence and their search for practical and spiritual resources in its aftermath. We are particularly interested in ways in which religious leaders and religious congregations respond to women who have been violated in their intimate relationships. And we want to identify and explore how religious practices are understood by women victims and by those who walk alongside them as contributing to women’s search for peace and safety at home. Later chapters focus on men who have acted abusively and have been processed by the criminal justice system as a result, followed by further chapters that highlight more fully the response of religious leaders and the training that they receive. Condensing a large amount of data into a small amount of space is no easy task. Neither is extrapolating explicitly religious factors in a woman’s life, or a man’s, as distinct from family connections, friendship networks, and other personal characteristics. However, religious practices, or practices endowed with religious or sacred significance, abound in the lives of the women and men we have studied. In our effort to highlight these, we turn our attention to how women and men view their faith as impacting their journey and some of the complications that arise as they search for help and try to accommodate their experience of being abused, or being abusive, with their deeply held religious convictions and ongoing religious practices. We draw from our published research, disseminated in various forms in books, book chapters, and refereed articles listed in Appendix 2; the studies are listed in Appendix 1. We end each of the data chapters, beginning with Chapter 2, with a section in which we highlight the response of victims, advocates, religious leaders, and the criminal justice system to the data we are addressing. Not only is this meant to illustrate the various constituencies involved in any response to intimate partner violence but also it highlights the divergent issues, challenges, and possibilities that surface for each group.

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T HE D EVEL O PME NT OF THE RAV E PRO J E C T

In 2005, with a generous grant from the Lilly Foundation, our work expanded greatly and we were able to begin an online initiative called the RAVE (Religion and Violence e-​Learning) Project. As we developed, tested, and implemented this web-​based dissemination series, including resources and online training, we invited a wide variety of partners from four location sites to join with us. Our four sites (Charlotte, North Carolina; Columbia, Missouri; Eugene, Oregon; and Calgary, Alberta, Canada) were chosen as a way to understand more clearly some specific groups within the broader population. Our RAVE Project partnerships involved collaboration with criminal justice workers (police, parole, probation, and court officers and judges), therapeutic staff (social workers and group facilitators), domestic violence advocates (shelter staff and outreach workers), and religious leaders (pastors, clergy, and elders) in three American cities as well as one Canadian urban center. One of our location sites was Charlotte, North Carolina, which is affectionately known by some as the City of Churches. We chose Charlotte as a venue to explore the role and influence of the many African American churches that are located there. African American churches have been in the forefront of recognizing the prevalence and severity of domestic violence in their own midst—​inside their churches—​and beyond their fellowships in the communities in which their churches serve (Townsend Gilkes, 2001; West, 1999). Lay pastors, many of whom are women, as well as ordained elders and clergy (some of whom are women) work tirelessly to build bridges between their congregations and the needs of the hurting in their communities. In this area of the country, many criminal justice workers use the language and symbols of faith in everyday conversation and even in their work. Charlotte is the birthplace of evangelist Billy Graham, and one of the contributors from the Charlotte team was a former police officer who worked for many years with Graham’s ministry. It was not uncommon in this cultural context to hear workers in the criminal justice system or in advocacy or community-​based agencies use religious language or mix together social justice and advocacy concerns with talk of God or the spiritual life. Every time there is a domestic violence homicide in Mecklenburg County, the police department organizes a candlelight vigil in downtown Charlotte in order to bring citizens together. The vigil is infused with religious symbolism in order to assist the community in remembering and honoring the life of the deceased, to acknowledge the pain of those left to mourn, and to remind those working for change of the hope that informs their important work. Calgary, a diverse city in western Canada, was chosen as a site to highlight both the unique needs of the aboriginal population there and the innovative coordinated response to domestic violence called HomeFront, or the HomeFront Society for the Prevention of Domestic Violence (see http://​homefrontcalgary.com). In 1990, before HomeFront was established, the Mayor’s Task Force on Community and Family Violence, working with the Calgary Domestic Violence Collective, was instrumental in bringing the issue of abuse to the fore in the city, laying some of the groundwork, providing initial seed funding, and offering political will to a concerted effort between police, the courts, and other key agencies in the city. Calgary’s structured coordination of agencies involved with domestic violence also incorporated a religious voice through the presence of FaithLink—​a faith-​based

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community agency that sought to build bridges between the sacred and the secular. The Calgary Domestic Violence Collective (http://​www.endviolence.ca), another coordinating group of service providers and agencies, worked in collaboration with FaithLink to bring together both secular and faith-​based resources to respond to sexual and intimate partner violence. In the Calgary context, the needs of particular groups, such as aboriginal families, Jewish families, and immigrant families, were identified, and programs and services were developed to meet their unique needs. Although there are no explicit faith-​based programs in Calgary, various intervention programs have therapeutic staff available for both victims/​survivors and perpetrators of abuse who wish to address religious issues specifically. Eugene, Oregon, was chosen as one of our sites for two very different reasons. First, it is located in one of two US states with the highest proportion of religiously unaffiliated individuals, so this was a place to examine whether there was any difference in a location with a greater proportion of the population who self-​identify as nonreligious. Second, it is home to the largest faith-​based batterer intervention program (BIP) in the United States, serving approximately 200 men each week. This combination of characteristics offered us an opportunity to explore religion and intimate partner violence in a setting very different from Charlotte. In the Eugene context, there is a well-​developed community-​based system of advocates and organizations working to end domestic violence and a vibrant organization offering drop-​in and residential services for victims/​survivors called Womenspace. Here, the faith-​based agency Christians as Family Advocates (http://​www.cafaweb. com) has been instrumental in ensuring that matters of importance to religious people are identified and considered. It has a strong track record in working together with other service providers in the local area, and it offers a state-​certified BIP, funded without any monies from the state. The fourth location site, Columbia, Missouri, which is centered in the religious “heartland of America,” offered us the opportunity to observe the nexus between religion and domestic violence in a relatively homogeneous and highly religious environment. Here, we were able to explore several smaller community-​based initiatives and to partner with university, advocacy, and religious team players. At this site, we saw the tensions between various religious leaders within the Christian community as they sought to understand and respond to issues of violence in their own denominational contexts. Our team’s religious credibility was significant at the Columbia site, and we experienced how this played out in various contexts as we worked together with our university colleagues, those in the shelter movement, and with various religious congregations and denominations. Hosting a variety of training venues with and for those in the local area, we were able to understand the close relationship in this geographical area between religious beliefs and practices, provision of services, and the application of best practices for families impacted by abuse. S T RENGTHS AND LIM ITATIONS

For the most part—​but not exclusively—​our credibility and our data related to intimate partner violence (IPV) and religion are linked to the broader Christian tradition. Here, we have both depth and breadth of experience. This is evidenced through our

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numerous research projects carried out over an expansive period of time. Throughout the years, our team has represented the diversity within Christendom (in terms of commitment levels and theological orientations) as well as those of no expressed religious commitment. Although we can speak with confidence about our knowledge of the Christian tradition and IPV, we have a growing number of experiences of working collaboratively with others in various areas of eastern and western Canada and the United States (and in other selected areas of the world) who work with other religious communities, including Jewish congregations, Muslim communities, and other religious expressions such as native spirituality. Whenever possible, we broaden our coverage of various world religions in the book. However, we want to be careful to do so without diluting our credibility or exaggerating our strengths. Our scholarship has been developed, for the most part, in understanding how one major world religion—​Christianity—​has been instrumental in either hindering or enhancing the journey for a victim (or a perpetrator) in the aftermath of domestic violence. We have sought and examined ways that religious communities and their leaders have been part of the problem and part of the solution. Certainly, there is great overlap in the issues from one world religion to another. That is the message we have been told time and again from those representing other traditions with whom we have worked or who have been present at training sessions we have offered. However, it is important not to overestimate the similarities nor to underrepresent the specific issues that need to be addressed within each faith tradition, whether Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism, and so on. To maintain the integrity of our expertise while ensuring that we are as inclusive as possible in our discussion, we have made every attempt to include references to other religious traditions in the literature review and in the chapters that follow, but we want to be clear—​our data are rooted, for the most part, in the Christian tradition. Our book aims to assist those who walk alongside religious victims, perpetrators, and their families as they cope with life in the aftermath of domestic violence. This includes religious leaders—​such as ordained clergy, priests, pastors, and others in positions of spiritual leadership—​as well as families, friends, and co-​religionists who offer assistance and support. It also includes professionals, many of whom may be secular in orientation and training but who work with clients in the social work, criminal justice, or therapeutic fields. Victims and survivors who are religious may find the book helpful, and we have made an attempt to write in a way that increases its accessibility to a wider, generalist audience. We do so on the basis of data we have collected from a variety of projects. Thus, we consider our book to offer evidence-​based best practices related to intimate partner violence and religion. As with any book, we have made choices about what to include and on what issues we wish to focus. We have not focused on men as victims of IPV. We certainly recognize that men too can be victims of IPV. However, women are more likely to be victims, and religious women are much more likely (than religious men) to seek help from a religious leader in the aftermath of victimization. That is the data—​but it is important, of course, to highlight that there may be a plethora of reasons why religious men might be too ashamed to seek help from a pastor or other religious leader if their partners abuse them. We note the prevalence of IPV in same-​sex relationships, but here too, religious same-​sex couples do not appear to seek help from their religious leaders (in the same proportions as heterosexual couples) when violence strikes their homes (that is the data from our clergy studies; Dickey Young, 2012). With our strengths

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highlighted and our limitations acknowledged, we turn to consider the story of the vast literature on domestic violence and on religion that has impacted our thinking. S E LECT ED THEME S IN THE LITE RATURE I MPA C T I N G O U R U ND ER S TANDING OF INTIMATE PAR T N E R VI OL ENCE AND RE LIGION

It is commonplace to begin the story of IPV with an overview of its frequency and severity as well as the long-​term implications of being impacted by it. In other writing, we have adopted this approach. We have chosen to follow a different path here. The frequency, severity, and consequences of abuse will be interwoven throughout the chapters that follow. As we discuss our data related to the victims, perpetrators, religious leaders, and congregations, we will reference relevant research of divergent scholars that help us to make sense of what we have found—​how it differs, or is similar, to their published work. What we wish to do here is frame our analysis of religion and IPV by considering several important questions related to points of intersection between religion and abuse. We have chosen these as selected themes in the more recent literature on domestic violence. We situate our literature review within the contexts of these issues and the dialogue they prompt for us and for others. We start by thinking about vulnerability and then resiliency—​two concepts deeply embedded in any discussion of IPV both for victims and for those who harm them. We then move on to think about religious congregations and the networking possibilities that they offer and the diversities that they represent. Next, we consider issues of justice. We then consider cultural competency, a key response to the more recent focus on intersectionality in the study of IPV. Finally, we highlight the impact of IPV on children. 1. What are some of the vulnerability factors that surface prominently in the lives of those impacted by abuse? There are several vulnerability factors that prevent women from recognizing and disclosing abuse and seeking safety. Patriarchal social structures make women vulnerable to violence at the hands of their male intimate partners. Although they are undergoing changes (Inglehart & Norris, 2003), context-​specific social constructions of gender and the expectations for gender roles continue to put pressure on women to think and act in ways that place them in subordinate positions of power to men. Even a cursory look at images used in advertising reveals men in positions of dominance that emphasize their power and strength, whereas women are in positions of submission. Male power is enforced through the constant threat of violence against women (Hartsock, 1983). That violence against women is also highly sexualized is attested to by ubiquitous technological access to pornography (DeKeseredy, 2011). MacKinnon (2006) argues that pornography conditions male sexual gratification on the violation and degradation of women. Some Western secular states prescribe women’s sexual availability in the public sphere (Selby, 2014). Walby (2009) argues that violence is constitutive of patriarchal power, and there are a variety of manifestations of patriarchy in different institutions and cultures (Hunnicutt, 2009).

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Despite postmodern theorizing about the social structuring of desire and the disruption of gendered discourse through the practices of identity politics (Butler, 2006), patriarchal religious structures support gender dualism and can promote women’s emotional and spiritual dependency on men. In particular, religious women feel a disproportionate responsibility, even a sacred duty, to keep their families together (Nason-​Clark, 1998). Feelings of shame and guilt can keep religious women in violent marriages. The capitalist structuring of global economies also contributes to the vulnerability of women impacted by abuse. Neoliberal capitalism has led to a rapid increase in the participation of women in the paid labor market; however, their gendered responsibilities for care work have resulted in the proliferation of precarious work—​work that accommodates women’s caregiving responsibilities but perpetuates economic inequalities between women and men (Kalleberg, 2013; Vosko, 2000). Economic globalization has produced large flows of migrant workers from the South to the North. Immigrant women in all societies face barriers in accessing information about their civic and legal rights in different national contexts (Miedema & Wachholz, 1998; Mosher, 2009) as well as knowledge about public services available to them in the aftermath of violence. A significant barrier in accessing information is language differences and the inadequacy of translation services for immigrants in the public sector ( Judicial Council on Cultural Diversity, 2016). There are a number of vulnerabilities found in men who act abusively that offer roadblocks on their journeys toward changed lives. The first originates in their families of origin. The witnessing and/​or experiencing of violence in the home causes children to internalize a culture of violence within the family (Black, Sussman, & Unger, 2010), leading to the intergenerational transmission of violence (Rosenbaum & Leisring, 2003). In their early socialization, children learn that violence can be a normative means of conflict resolution within the family (Bandura, 1973). Dutton (2000) argues that overcoming and recovering from the impact of witnessing or experiencing abusive behavior during childhood is important to peaceful living. There is a consistent link between exposure to violence in the family of origin and subsequent family violence (Chen & White, 2004; Delsol & Margolin, 2004; Kerley, Xu, Sirisunyaluck, & Alley, 2010; cf. Renzetti, Edleson, & Bergen, 2011). In our earlier book, Men Who Batter (Nason-​Clark & Fisher-​Townsend, 2015), we discuss challenging childhood experiences that increase propensity toward violence in later years—​including instability factors such as drug use, alcohol use, or other risk-​taking activities (Gover, 2004) and issues such as insecure attachment, poor problem-​solving skills (Ehrensaft et al. 2003; Teague, Mazerolle, Legosz, & Sanderson, 2008), or being from a fragile home environment (Högnäs & Carlson, 2010). For those who have been abusive, the contexts in which most people typically find social support, such as friendship networks, are either missing or unsupportive of change. According to Laub and Sampson (2003), friends act as sources of informal social support that may help regulate behavior by contributing to lifestyle stability through encouragement and example. Those who act violently in the family context are likely to find themselves detached from exemplary friendship networks and more connected with those who act like themselves. They have alienated themselves from families and are often barred by no-​contact orders from any interaction with their victims and children. What are they to do, then, other than seek out former friends and acquaintances—​those who supported their previous violent lifestyle? And, as

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Michalski (2004) notes, exposure to violent networks increases the likelihood of repeating their behavior. The support of family and friends is essential to help keep abusive men focused on changing their attitudes and behavior. Relational distance and social isolation contribute to the maintenance of undesirable behavior in men who have acted abusively (Michalski, 2004). The lack of these supports therefore increases the vulnerabilities of men as they journey toward changed lives. Overcoming drug and/​or alcohol abuse is another area of vulnerability. This is part of what the men in our research refer to as “doing the work.” They firmly believe that it is only through personal effort that their lives will improve. Numerous researchers have discussed the complex relationship between substance abuse and woman abuse (Brown, Werk, Caplan, & Seraganian, 1999; Galvani, 2004; Gondolf, 1995; Humphreys, Regan, River, & Thiara, 2005). Intervention must then include useful sequencing of therapy for both wife abuse and substance abuse to ensure that violent situations are not further exacerbated by alcohol and drugs. Many of the men we interviewed were indeed enrolled in drug and alcohol treatment programs concurrently with their intervention programs and were seeking to change “one day at a time” with the support of their “higher power.” Yet this is a difficult journey fraught with setbacks and disappointments. Reliance on drugs or alcohol makes daily living a challenge and offers particular vulnerabilities for those moving toward change. 2. In what ways does the concept of resiliency help us to understand more accurately the response of families and individuals to abuse in the family context? The notion of resiliency represents a strengths-​based approach to understanding peoples’ responses in times of adversity (Howard, Cross, Li, & Huang, 1999). Resiliency can be used to describe the characteristics of both adults and children who have been victimized by domestic violence and who work toward safety and healing. It can also describe the characteristics of perpetrators of violence who make the changes necessary to act nonviolently. Both internal and external protective factors that foster resiliency have been identified. One important internal protective factor that contributes to human resiliency is hope. Roy, Turcott, Montminy, and Lindsay (2005) identify the instillation of hope as a key therapeutic factor in groups for men who batter. The therapeutic value of hope is also identified by Bergin and Walsh (2005), who argue that the therapist is invested with the role of being “an ambassador of hope.” A common theme that arises when searching for a definition of hope is that hope is intrinsically adaptive and positive (Bergin & Walsh, 2005). The word “hope” appears frequently in a spiritual context. In the Christian New Testament, it is viewed as an abiding characteristic of spiritual maturity, along with faith and love (e.g., 1 Corinthians 13:13). For a spiritually mature Christian, the Bible teaches that the character and the promises of God ultimately provide for one’s confidence and hope even in the face of adversity and uncertainty. Meadows, Kaslow, Thompson, and Jurkovic (2005) describe hope as “positive expectations about the future and positive ways of assigning causality to events” (p. 110). Thus, hope, particularly when linked with faith, engenders positive attitudes and serves as a potential protection against despair, giving up, and failing to meet goals. In addition, a person’s entire sense of well-​being is

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affected by the ability to perceive positive effects following negative experiences (Park & Folkman, 1997). In our book Men Who Batter (Nason-​Clark & Fisher-​Townsend, 2015), we delineate several aspects of hope that were identified by the men involved in our research. These include notions such as the following: Hope is a life without dependence on alcohol; hope comes from God alone; hope is linked to a belief that one will reconnect with one’s children; one can hope to make a difference in someone’s life; and hope is having restrictions, such as travel, lifted. Each of these facets of hope offers resiliency to men on their journeys toward changing their thinking and behavior. Women who are victims of abuse have hope that the violence in their relationship will end and that they and their children can live peacefully in the family unit. Often, they hope for reconciliation with their partners as well (Nason-​Clark, 1997). Sometimes religious women are unrealistic in the hope that their abusive partners will change or that they themselves have the faith and ability to help their husbands change. Sacred texts are filled with passages encouraging those who live in times of pain and darkness not to give up hope in their journeys toward joy and light. Religious women need assistance in recognizing behaviors associated with cycles of abuse and understanding that they are not responsible for the actions of their abusers. They need to understand that men who act violently, for whatever reason, need professional help in order to change and that their role is to do whatever needs to be done in order to ensure their own safety. When this becomes clear to victims, then religious women’s hope can be directed toward their own journey of physical, emotional, and spiritual healing. Learning to access the available help and support for victims of domestic violence from both sacred and secular sources can help foster the realistic hope women require to assist them on their healing journey (Nason-​Clark and Holtmann, 2013b). Another internal aspect of resiliency is strong interpersonal relationships. Certainly, these strong relationships are often lacking in the lives of those impacted by abuse. The abusive men in our research identified the necessity for acquiring what they describe as “the tools” to help them sustain acceptable behavior and to sustain good relationships. These tools, often learned in therapy, teach them how to set boundaries and live in healthy relationships. They learn coping skills, social skills, and communication skills. The availability of these skills, which organize and direct their striving to achieve a better life, contributes to offering hope for improved lives through strong interpersonal relationships. Victims of abuse are often isolated by their abusers from their support networks (Liao 2006). Threats of violence or of escalating the violence are often used to prevent victims from seeking help from family or friends (Basile & Black, 2011). A community of support that includes other survivors will contribute to the resilience of religious survivors who are renegotiating their beliefs in the aftermath of abuse (Nason-​Clark & Holtmann, 2016). By working with a religious leader who has been trained in the best practices of responding to domestic violence or with support from a secular service provider who is sensitive to the importance of religion to some women, religious survivors can explore how concepts such as love, humility, submission, forgiveness, and sacrifice can be reinterpreted and put into action so as to support their well-​being (Chaudry, 2013; Gerhardt, 2014). External resiliency factors include family support, community support systems, and spirituality or religion (Benavides, 2010). These are sometimes in short supply for men who have acted abusively—​but they can be acquired. Support, encouragement,

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and forgiveness can be found by seeking these resources, perhaps using some of the “tools” they are offered in intervention programs. Those fortunate enough to find support from their family, community agencies, and/​or religious beliefs can draw on these resources to increase their resilience in lives defined by adversity. When religious leaders become knowledgeable about family violence and work collaboratively with secular service providers, female victims/​survivors of violence can come to understand that they are not alone and that domestic violence is a widespread social problem (Holtmann, 2013b). The availability of information about domestic violence services in the community, such as those provided by police, shelters, therapeutic professionals, and outreach workers in places of worship, will contribute to the resiliency of survivors. This knowledge is also important for families, friends, and members of religious social networks who seek to support survivors. Religious prohibitions against divorce and the rhetoric of failed marriages must be nuanced in light of the empirical evidence of the prevalence of domestic violence. This can reduce individual feelings of shame and help women in using their experiences of domestic violence to develop empathy and compassion for other women. Understanding the social science data and the dynamics of IPV can prompt religious groups to work collectively for change, thus empowering survivors and giving them additional reasons for hope (Doob, 2002). 3. What do we know about social networks, especially among the religious, that might give us clues as to the benefits of religion for women in crisis? The idea that being part of a religious congregation provides important social ties and supports is not new. In the 19th century, one of the earliest sociologists, Emile Durkheim, credited religion with promoting a greater consciousness of a collective identity in contrast to the individualistic identity promoted by modernity and capitalism (Durkheim 1990). He argued that it is through regular participation in collective religious rituals that religious people develop strong interpersonal bonds with one another. Regular participation in collective religious rituals is normative for both men and women in Christianity; however, this is not necessarily the case for other religious traditions. With globalization, Beyer (2007a) argues that all religious groups in the West are somewhat adapting to Christian norms, but there remain differences. For example, considerations of purity and space prevent some Muslim women from praying together with men (Anderson and Dickey Young 2010). In some mosques during Friday prayers, men and women pray in separate areas (McDonough & Hoodfar, 2009). Communal worship is not necessarily an essential practice for all Jews (Davidman, 2003). There is considerable literature about the importance of social ties in religious congregations, especially with regard to the effect of those social networks on the health and well-​being of members (Ellison & Levin, 1998; Idler, 1987; Kraus, 2006, 2008; Kraus & Bastida, 2011). Of particular note with regard to the potential role that a congregation might play in the life of a woman in crisis, much has also been written about the importance of the social supports that are provided to members in religious congregations (Edgell, Tranby, & Mather, 2013; Ellison & George, 1994; Merino, 2014; Taylor & Chatters, 1988). This scholarship demonstrates the very positive effects of the social networks that are part of congregations large and small. So important are these social relationships that in smaller congregations, members often describe one another as family because

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of the close ties that develop and the importance of those ties in providing trusted friendships and in meeting needs during times of sickness, crisis, and grief (McMullin, 2011). In larger congregations, and especially among the increasing number of so-​ called megachurches, such social networks are intentionally provided in the structure of the organization (primarily through structured small group meetings) so that even in a very large congregation there are opportunities to develop close ties that will provide effective social support (Putnam, 2000). In most large congregations, some of those structured small groups are gender specific—​not because of a desire to segregate people by gender but, rather, to provide opportunities for women to support and encourage one another. Small group activities include groups that gather to study sacred texts; talk about the shared faith; engage in spiritual practices; organize and carry out formal and informal social events for the faith community; work together to raise funds for the religious group, missionary activity, or worthy social causes; and devote themselves to faith-​based social change (Nason-​Clark & Holtmann, 2013b). Small group religious activities can take place in churches, temples, mosques, and synagogues but also in homes, coffee shops, and local pubs. Many religious groups have also taken advantage of new technologies and provide opportunities for members to interact online in addition to their face-​to-​face activities (Campbell, 2012). It is through participation in public religious rituals and a plethora of small group activities that religious social networks develop and involvement in religious social networks tends to heighten individual religiosity (Baker, 2013; Stroope, 2012). Religious social networks are particularly important to immigrants, and for many, collective religious involvement is a central form of social support when they are facing the challenges of settling into a new society (Ebaugh & Chafetz, 2000; Holtmann, 2013b). Many second-​generation Muslim women in Canada have chosen to become more religiously engaged than their parents because it gives them a measure of authority and autonomy with the Muslim community (Hoodfar, 2012). For victims who feel voiceless and powerless because of abuse, the congregation can potentially provide hope that they can once again contribute in meaningful ways. Ammerman and Farnsley (1997) note that the legitimacy of the congregation as a social organization makes it a place where it is possible that “otherwise voiceless people have a voice, and where those denied leadership learn to lead” (p. 363). That can be especially meaningful for a victim who, in an abusive relationship, has had all sense of power removed. Congregations can empower them by providing them with roles within the social life of the congregation that might have been denied to them at home. Involvement in religious social networks can decrease the risk of a woman getting into an abusive or violent relationship (Ellison, Bartkowski, & Anderson, 1999), but social support networks play a complex role for a woman who is in a relationship with a violent partner (Katerndahl et al., 2013). Women living with IPV with social support networks report a stronger sense of safety and better physical and emotional well-​ being compared to women without social support. They are also more likely to seek legal assistance. However, women are more likely to leave a violent relationship if their social support is inadequate. Women living with IPV have smaller social networks compared to women who are not victimized, and the members of victims’ support networks tend to have similar experiences with abusive relationships. 4. How does religious diversity in the general society impact the provision of services for individuals and families when intimate partner violence occurs?

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A coordinated community response (CCR) to IPV is designed to improve victim safety as well as the accountability of perpetrators within specific local contexts (Uekert, 2003). It is intended to harness community leadership in response to the widespread problem of IPV, maximize the effectiveness and efficiency of community resources, and avoid duplication of services (Post, Klevens, Maxwell, Shelley, & Ingram, 2010). Ideally, a CCR would include shelter and advocacy services, law enforcement, the criminal justice system, therapeutic professionals, health care providers, government departments, community organizations, and religious groups. Each of these CCR components offers multiple services, including education, prevention, and awareness-​raising campaigns (Shorey, Tirone, & Stuart, 2014). Only relatively recently have religious organizations begun to be considered as part of a CCR to victims of intimate partner violence. This is partly because many religious organizations have been slow to respond to the problem of IPV within their congregations, whereas many secular service providers, particularly those grounded in feminist praxis, have assumed that because of patriarchal ideologies, religious groups can only be part of the problem of IPV and not part of the solution (Nason-​Clark, Holtmann, Fisher-​Townsend, McMullin, & Ruff, 2009). There is also an assumption among public service providers and policymakers in Canada that religion is not an important factor in a secular society (Bramadat, 2007). However, increased levels of religious diversity in the West, largely due to immigration (Beaman, 2006; O’Connor, 2014), have led to a reconsideration of the role of religion and the implications of religious diversity in all aspects of public life (Bramadat, 2008; Breton, 2012). Because religious diversity is closely intertwined with ethnic diversity (Bramadat, 2005), increased religious diversity has presented an internal challenge to religious groups. Many religious groups have focused resources on the settlement and integration of large numbers of immigrant and refugee newcomers. Ethno-​religious diversity also reshapes the nature of religious practices. For example, the Roman Catholic Church in the United States is undergoing a dramatic transformation because of immigration from Latin America, whereas the character of Canadian Catholicism has changed with the arrival of large numbers of Asian Catholics (Fay, 2009). Some Canadian priests believe that visible minority Catholics are more conservative than their Canadian-​born counterparts, particularly with regard to gender roles in the family (Holtmann, 2013a). This assumption may fuel the tendency of “othering,” or the inordinate projection of undesirable social behaviors, such as IPV, onto minority groups (Korteweg, 2012). This blinds religious groups to the prevalence of IPV among all Canadians, regardless of their ethno-​religious backgrounds, and prevents them from sharing the responsibility for implementing the value of equality in a multicultural society (Beaman, 2012). Ethno-​religious diversity also presents challenges to the providers of public services. Assumptions of the secular nature of public life and criticism of lingering Christian hegemony in public institutions (Butot, 2007), the increase in the proportion of Canadians who do not claim religious identities (Statistics Canada, 2011a), and widespread religious illiteracy (Prothero, 2007) leave many public service providers unprepared to deal with clients for whom religious beliefs and practices are central to their identities, creating a chasm between the need and the services available. In many contexts, this insensitivity to ethno-​religious diversity and institutional racism has led to the creation of culturally sensitive domestic violence services by minority groups in urban centers (Agnew, 1998).

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As immigration patterns shift, there is also an increasing amount of ethnic diversity within existing congregations—​especially within the growing number of Christian congregations with more than 1,000 worshippers on an average Sunday. According to the 2015 Canadian Large Church Study (Bird et al., 2015), one in eight Protestant worshippers in Canada attend a congregation with an average worship attendance of more than 1,000 people, and among those large congregations, 62% are classed as multiethnic. Of even greater interest is that when asked for reasons for attending such a congregation, the second-​most common response related to the “diverse range of people” within such congregations. That means that within these large Protestant congregations, there is not only a growing ethnic diversity but also an acceptance and even an enthusiasm regarding such diversity. In a social and religious environment in which people from a wide variety of cultural backgrounds are welcome, there are opportunities to address cultural issues surrounding family life such as attitudes toward domestic violence. Such congregations can also provide opportunities for victims who are perhaps thousands of miles from family to find close friendships and support networks so they can seek help in times of crisis. According to Putnam (2007), among all social groups that he has witnessed, it has been the so-​called megachurches in the United States that have been the most successful at racial integration. He hypothesizes that “this undoing of past segregation is due, at least in part, to the construction of religiously based identities that cut across (while not effacing) conventional racial identities” (p. 161). In such congregations, religious belief provides an important bridge among people of different social, economic, and racial backgrounds. In a sense, large churches are socially structured to embrace diversity: The only way a large congregation can sustain itself is to focus its resources on the religious commonality among members. That means that regardless of race, ethnicity, age, gender, or family background, the congregation welcomes people on the basis of their common religious faith. In such a congregation, diversity flourishes and opportunities exist to provide guidance and help for victims with diverse backgrounds. 5. What have we learned about the role of the criminal justice system in responding to intimate partner violence that might offer some guidelines for congregations as they respond to families impacted by abuse? As members of the Religion and Violence Research Team of the Muriel McQueen Fergusson Centre for Family Violence Research, located at the University of New Brunswick, we have become convinced that building bridges between sacred and secular communities holds the most promise for reducing violence in our communities and responding with compassion and best practices to those who suffer its impact (Nason-​Clark, Mitchell, & Beaman, 2004; Nason-​Clark, Kroeger, & Fisher-​ Townsend, 2011). Central to the task of bridge building is creating an awareness of both the issue of domestic violence and the need to involve community-​based and religiously informed workers in responding to it (Nason-​Clark & Holtmann, 2013b). Each constituency needs to be aware of a plethora of new policies, programs, and procedures added within the criminal justice system in order to deal with the issue of abuse in the family context (Ames & Dunham, 2002; Denham & Gillespie, 1999; Loue & Maschke, 2001). The intervention of the criminal justice system in cases of IPV most often begins with police response to a 911 call. Virtually every jurisdiction in North America now

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has a mandatory arrest policy when it is clear that abuse has happened. Williams (1998) identifies a series of consequences that may arise in concordance with this initial response, including retaliation against the victim, dual arrest, lack of cultural sensitivity by the police, and slow responses in known ethnic neighborhoods. Once an arrest has been made and the perpetrator is out of the residence, a protection (no contact) order may be granted, which, according to Wallace (1996), is a court order that prohibits the offender from contacting the victim or their children, using physical abuse, or damaging the personal property of the victim. The next step involves the prosecutorial office laying charges. Depending on the seriousness of the assault or perhaps the use of a weapon, these charges may be either at the misdemeanor level or at the felony level2 and involve a particular level of assault, criminal trespass, stalking, sexual assault, or a variety of other crimes including homicide. As the case moves through the system, the next step is the prosecution phase in the court. If a specialized domestic violence court is available, this step usually occurs within days, but if it must go through the regular court system, this step could take months. If found guilty, the most common dispositions are offender treatment conditions, alcohol or substance abuse assessment and treatment, conditions requiring that the offender abstain completely from the use of alcohol, and conditions prohibiting contact with the complainant (Van de Veen, 2004, p. 84). Danis (2003) argues that although “there are no simple answers to getting the batterer to stop his abusive behavior or to ensure client safety” (p. 242), congregations can offer support within the boundaries of several of these initiatives just described. Congregations and their leaders can fill a helpful and important role with regard to the interaction between victims and the criminal justice system. First, a pastor or religious leader can serve as a “permission giver” to a victim who may believe that it would be wrong to involve the authorities in something as sacred as her marriage. The fact that the couple has made vows before God, the close relationship between the idea of marriage and the victim’s deeply held religious faith (and thus a sense that the home is a sacred space for a believer and her partner), and a fear (which perhaps has been encouraged by the abuser) that calling the police will do irreparable harm to the family’s reputation in the faith community can be reasons why a victim may decide to continue to endure the abuse rather than seek help. Although some might view those aspects of religious ideology as reasons to exclude religion from the response, the opposite is the case: If a religious leader is involved in the coordinated community response and can encourage the victim to call the police, have charges laid, and seek protection from the courts, the religious victim can access the help she needs with a sense of not having betrayed her congregation, her vows, or her faith. When a victim is dealing with the criminal justice system, it can be helpful if the pastor or congregation can provide resources and recommend people to help. Perhaps the pastor knows of a lawyer who understands and appreciates the victim’s religious faith; it is also very helpful if there are other people within the congregation who have experienced the criminal justice system in relation to the abuse that they suffered. The vast majority of congregations include women who have experienced abuse, and some of those women have gone through the process of seeking personal protection from the courts as well as dealing with issues related to divorce and child custody. After those women have sufficiently healed from the abuse they once suffered, they can be an invaluable resource for women who are dealing with police, lawyers, and restraining orders. Having guidance from someone from within their own congregation will

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remind them that they are not alone in their faith community and that they do not need to isolate themselves from their church family as they go through the legal processes. The congregation can also provide practical support; examples include ensuring that the victim does not attend court alone but is accompanied by friends from the congregation, helping financially with legal expenses, and providing space and volunteers to assist with supervised visitation of children. Congregations and their leaders can also help through their relationship with the abuser. On the one hand, the congregation can express to the perpetrator its condemnation of the violence while at the same time offering accountability and a long-​term relationship as the abuser deals with the legal system and seeks to change through batterer abuse programs and/​or substance abuse programs. In some cases, men in the church might serve as mentors as the abuser seeks to learn new ways of relating. What pastors should not seek to do is to replace the role of the police or the courts. The primary roles of the pastor or religious leader are to ensure the immediate safety of the victim and to provide long-​term spiritual care for victims and their family members. The pastor who seeks to confront the abuser about the violence or to enforce better behaviors within the marriage will most likely put the victim in even greater danger and will make it more difficult for the victim to find strength in her faith to escape the abuse. 6. How has our increased understanding and interest in the provision of culturally competent services to families in crises, and abused women in particular, impacted the inclusion of religious leaders in the coordinated community response to domestic violence? Cultural competency relates to the ability to offer services that take into full account an individual’s distinctiveness in terms of ethnic, social, sexual, and religious diversities, to name a few. Relatively recently, cultural competency has been raised as an important issue for responding to aboriginal and immigrant women and men, for whom, it is recognized, the presenting needs may differ from those who belong to majority populations. For aboriginal people in North America, the problems of racism, oppression, and the legacy of European contact and colonialism have created a disconnection from their cultural heritage that continues to profoundly impact their contemporary life (Aboriginal Healing Foundation, 2003). This legacy includes deaths due to epidemics of influenza and small pox, displacement from traditional native lands and ways of life, the rape and murder of native women, and the removal of children from native families to be placed in residential schools or to be adopted by non-​native families, as well as the loss of traditional languages. Duran and Duran (1995) refer to the intergenerational transmission of the trauma from these types of atrocities and injustices as the “soul wound.” There is a genuine need for aboriginal men to recover from the effects of that disconnection with their culture and to reconnect with the traditions of their people. The latest data from Statistics Canada (2014) indicate that aboriginals were slightly more than twice as likely to report being a victim of domestic violence and to experience more severe types of violence. The 2006 report of the US Department of Justice, Bureau of Justice Statistics states that both native American women and

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Alaskan native women had rates of IPV of 18.2 (per 1,000 population)—​the highest in the nation. The violence behind these data is a legacy of that “soul wound.” Any intervention program or procedure must recognize the colonial legacy as well as the context of violence within native families and attempt to bring restoration through the inclusion of spiritual and cultural practices meant to reconnect aboriginal peoples with their heritage. The provision of culturally competent public services is also necessary for responding to domestic violence among Canada’s growing immigrant and visible minority populations, who are also impacted by structural racism and oppression (Agnew, 1998; Fong 2010). One in five Canadians are foreign born, and for many immigrants, religion is an important aspect of their identity and daily practices. Immigrant religious and ethnic identities and practices are often so closely intertwined that it is difficult to distinguish between them (Bramadat, 2005). Although the majority of immigrants are Christian, a large proportion of new immigrants identify with religions with which Canadians are less familiar, such as Islam, Hinduism, and Buddhism. Like aboriginal worldviews, immigrant worldviews differ in significant ways from mainstream Canadian or secular worldviews (Selby, 2014). It is important for public service providers who respond to domestic violence among aboriginal and immigrant groups to better understand their identities and practices as well as the spiritual and religious resources available in their local contexts (Holtmann, 2016). The inclusion of aboriginal and non-​Christian worldviews and values requires a culturally competent service provider. Zellerer (2003) argues that becoming a culturally competent service provider involves (1) becoming knowledgeable about the group with which one is working, (2) being self-​reflective and recognizing one’s own biases as well as those within one’s profession, and (3) integrating this knowledge and reflection with actual practice. According to Bussey and Whipple (2010), To respond most effectively to domestic and other forms of violence against Native women, it is vital to work toward an integrated, coordinated effort among practitioners across differing systems (i.e., tribal leaders, child welfare and social services, advocates, probation and parole officers, attorneys, and law enforcement officers). (pp. 296–​297) Likewise, coordinated and culturally competent responses to immigrant women survivors of domestic violence need to include the expertise of immigrant settlement services, multicultural and cultural associations, as well as Christian and non-​ Christian religious groups, particularly those that have developed support networks for women. Culturally focused intervention programs for men who have acted abusively have been developed for an array of racially or ethnically diverse groups of male abusers (Gondolf & Williams, 2001; Healey, Smith, & O’Sullivan, 1998; Kiyoshk, 2003). Aboriginal peoples have been identified as one group in need of culturally focused therapeutic interventions. Waldram (1994) argues that there is explicit therapeutic value in aboriginal spirituality programs because they have a significant effect on the

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well-​being of offenders. He details the following four benefits of spiritual programs within prisons that are relevant for batterer treatment programs as well: • They provide a mechanism for coping with life stresses. • Involving elders as therapists allows men to talk more openly and have more confidence in the therapeutic process. • Utilizing native therapists ensures a better understanding of the reserve context, including problems of physical and sexual abuse, as well as alcohol and substance use. • Aboriginal therapists have the ability to deal with questions of aboriginal identity, including the problems faced by some aboriginal men who have been raised in the “White” community and have been ostracized by the aboriginal community. In a broader context, Pennington-​Zoeller (2009) provides a succinct argument as to why the criminal justice model of a CCR needs to be expanded. She refers to the increased possibilities of social support systems for women who have been victimized and often isolated from friends, family, and other supporters. She argues that community coordinated responses fail to identify and include the formal and informal resources and strengths available to survivors. By not including informal resources like extended family, neighbors, friends, and social groups, and formal organizations like churches and employers, the quality and quantity of support and resources available to survivors are drastically reduced. (pp. 541–​542) 7. How has the most recent focus on intersectionality addressed some misconceptions in how researchers and activists understand and communicate the dynamics of intimate partner violence? Many contemporary feminist researchers and domestic violence advocates employ an intersectional framework in order to conceptualize the lives of women who experience violence in their intimate relationships (Crenshaw, 1994). This means that they focus on the intersection of the multiple structures of gender, class, ethnicity/​race, religion, ability, and sexual orientation that create both inequalities and valued differences among women in society ( Johnson 2005). Intersectional frameworks do not initially privilege one difference or inequality, such as gender, over another (Sokoloff & Pratt, 2005) but allow for the investigation of the particular structural intersection that is the most important to address for ensuring an abused woman’s safety depending on her societal context. For some victims in a particular context, their ethnic/​racial background may be a more crucial aspect of their day-​to-​day lives to consider than gender in terms of appropriate interventions following domestic violence. The economic differences between and within ethnic/​racial groups are sources of inequality and vulnerability for minority women (Siltanen & Doucet, 2008), indicating that structures of ethnicity/​race and class often interlock and reinforce one another. Differences of ethnicity/​race, gender, class, and religion are not the sources of domestic violence but, rather, mediate and shape it (Liao, 2006). Some social practices within minority groups may actually be more empowering for women than practices within the

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dominant groups of a local context. It is also possible that dominant and minority groups collude in practices that make minority women more vulnerable when domestic violence occurs ( Jiwani, 2005). As increasingly more countries in the West experience increasing ethnocultural diversification due to contemporary global flows of immigrants, the more important an intersectional framework becomes in order to understand the complexity of abuse. Many churches, temples, and mosques in North America are the primary source of social support networks for minority groups, particularly for immigrant families (Ebaugh & Chafetz, 2000; Gunn & Lambton, 1999; Hondagneu-​Sotelo, 2008). Religious institutions can commit to the painstaking journey of assisting individuals and families in overcoming situations of domestic violence as well as the long-​term work of advocating for social justice for minority groups. Natalie Sokoloff (2005) argues that “research and practice in the area of domestic violence all too often has been presented as a ‘one-​size-​fits-​all’ approach. This is inadequate to the experiences and needs of diverse groups of women who are abused” (p. 1). That thought is reinforced by Danis and Lockhart (2010, p. 1) who add that the “universal woman” notion and the “one-​size-​fits-​all” approach were dreadfully inadequate in describing the experiences and needs of diverse groups of women who were being abused. The concept of intersectionality proposes that domestic violence is but one form of oppression and social power. We exist in social contexts created by the intersections of systems of power and oppression that lead to processes of advantage and disadvantage. Walby (2007) argues that the intersection of multiple social structures is complex, creating both valued differences and social inequalities. One’s experience as a victim of domestic violence is realized only in relation to intersectionalities in society such as those identified by Danis and Lockhart (2010), including race, skin color, age, ethnicity, language, ancestry, sexual orientation, religion, socioeconomic class, ability, geographic location, and status as a migrant, indigenous person, or refugee—​all interacting to determine one’s social experiences and reality. All of these differing forms of identity exist in relationship to each other (Anthias, 2014). When religious groups are considering interventions in cases of domestic violence for aboriginal or immigrant families, for example, it is important to keep in mind how intersecting structures in particular social contexts mediate and shape the situation. Immigrant women from minority ethno-​religious groups may be hesitant to disclose domestic violence because of stereotypes in the dominant society that reinforce existing structural inequalities. In Canada, for example, Islamophobia has produced widespread assumptions about the inherently violent nature of all Muslim men and their systemic oppression of Muslim women. This stereotype amplifies the structural racism that increases Muslim immigrant women’s emotional and financial dependency on their husbands and fathers and ignores the teachings and practices within Islam that condemn violence, encourage work for social justice, and support women’s agency (Mahmood, 2001; Wadud, 1999; Zine 2004). Given the reality of intersecting structures and complex inequalities, religious groups that wish to respond appropriately to victims and perpetrators of domestic violence in their midst should also at the same time address the structures of domination that perpetuate sexism, poverty, racism, and the marginalization of ethnic and religious minorities. Even within religious groups there are persistent divisions of gender, race, and class that remain unaddressed (Emerson, Smith, & Sikkink, 1999; Hinojosa & Park, 2004; Smith & Faris, 2005; Whitehead, 2013).

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Although much has been written about the ways in which religious life in the West (particularly in the United States) has been racially and ethnically segregated, it has relatively recently been noted that the growing number of American megachurches have been successful in bringing together diverse groups of men and women (Putnam, 2000, p. 409). Gender differences in congregations also persist; the number of women in attendance at Christian worship services still outnumbers the number of men, although the reasons for this are complex (McMullin, 2015). 8. What are the social costs/​impacts of domestic violence? The impacts of domestic violence are far-​reaching, and the consequences for not addressing this problem within religious groups are potentially huge. The worst-​case scenario of domestic violence is the murder of an intimate partner. Threatening to kill one’s spouse is a tactic used in the cycle of domestic violence, and the threat is carried out far too often. In Canada between 2003 and 2013, there were 960 domestic homicides, with three-​fourths of these involving female victims (Campbell, Dawson, Jaffe, & Straatman, 2016). According to the website of the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence (NCADV), a woman is fatally shot in the United States by a spouse, ex-​partner, or boyfriend every 14 hours. In the United States, 72% of all murder–​suicides involve an intimate partner, and 94% of the victims of these murders are female (NCADV, 2015). Women who have lived with domestic violence experience poor physical, mental, and reproductive health. Physical injuries include fractures, broken bones and teeth, bruises, cuts, burns, and, in some cases, disfigurement. It is estimated that in the United States, domestic violence results in 2 million injuries per year, with more than a half million requiring medical attention. Annual direct medical and mental health care services in the United States due to domestic violence are estimated at $4.1 billion (National Center for Injury Prevention and Control [NCIPC], 2003). Sexual assault can result in unplanned pregnancies, pelvic pain, sexually transmitted diseases, and urinary tract and bladder infections. Victims are more likely to abuse alcohol and drugs and attempt suicide (United Nations [UN], 2006). Infants born to women experiencing physical or sexual violence tend to have a lower birth weight. Some women and children refuse to seek support for health problems resulting from family violence and may engage in further self-​destructive behaviors such as cutting and eating disorders. Living with family violence is stressful, and persistent high levels of stress can lead to conditions such as lupus, chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, chronic pain, and sleep disorders (Doherty, 2003). Children who witness domestic violence between their parents also experience physical and emotional impacts, including stomachaches, headaches, insomnia, feelings of guilt, self-​blame, and depression. Exposure to domestic violence at home affects children’s ability to learn, leading some to act out in school and others to have difficulty concentrating and learning. Socially, they may have difficulty trusting people and may accept or use violence in dating relationships (The Learning Network, 2012). Domestic violence prevents victims from fully participating in a host of social and economic activities. Women who are living with violence and abuse are less likely to be employed, and if they do have paid employment, it tends to be in low-​status jobs (UN, 2006). They are likely to experience disruptions in their employment history and have lower incomes. It is estimated that the direct and indirect costs of domestic

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violence to Canadian employers is $77.9 million annually (DV@work, 2014). In the United States, it is estimated that in a single year, women miss approximately 8 million days of work due to the consequences of domestic violence—​the equivalent of losing 32,000 full-​time jobs (NCIPC 2003). Perpetrators of domestic violence also report workplace impacts such as the inability to concentrate and negative job performance. 9. How are children impacted when violence strikes at home? Everyone’s story begins in childhood, and what happens in those early years sets the stage for what is to come. In our book Men Who Batter (Nason-​Clark & Fisher-​ Townsend, 2015), in which we follow the stories of 55 men who act abusively over time, we learn that many had a rugged beginning. Sometimes that involved instability, poverty, isolation, or the ever-​present threat, or reality, of violence. These are among the many risk factors—​points of vulnerability—​that have the potential to impact negatively the life of a child, arresting healthy development and interrupting a smooth journey toward adulthood. Men who batter know this only too well. There is an expansive literature exploring and assessing what happens in the lives of children when adults in their home are violent and how to respond appropriately to the challenges it raises (Edleson & Williams, 2007; Schechter & Edleson, 1999,3 2000; cf. Renzetti et al., 2011). A much cited article by Jeffrey Edleson and colleagues (2007) reviews the plethora of studies in this area and demonstrates that child exposure to domestic violence is comorbid with emotional and cognitive functioning problems, adjustment difficulties, and behavioral disruptions. Their assessment suggests a strong co-​occurrence (>40%) of child maltreatment and adult domestic violence. In their review of 177 articles published between 2002 and 2015 that focused on children who had experienced domestic violence, Callaghan, Alexander, Sixsmith, and Fellin (2015) summarize that 85% of the articles describe children as “exposed” to domestic violence and are framed in policy and the law as “collateral damage.” They discuss the impact of abusive control on the lives of children, indicating that in their view, children are far from passive witnesses to violence. One example of children’s agency is their active intervention to block violent behavior, seek help, and use their knowledge to resist their fathers’ controlling ways (Callaghan et al., 2015). However, led by the belief—​erroneous as it might be—​that children fare better with two parents than one, many women are reluctant to leave an abusive home, perceiving that it is in the best interest of their children to remain where they are (Edleson, Ellerton, Seagren, Kirchberg, Schmidt, & Ambrose, 2007). Children can be torn between their fear and desire to protect their mother and their affection and attachment to the one who causes her pain (Israel & Stover, 2009). Young people often describe feelings of guilt, shame, and embarrassment at the thought of disclosing what happens behind closed doors at home (Stanley, Miller, & Foster, 2012). Employing data from the Fragile Families and Child Wellbeing Study (N = 2,896), Juan, Washington, and Kurlychek (2017) show that there is a strong direct effect of exposure to IPV on early childhood aggression. In our review of the literature on “fragile families” in an earlier publication, the evidence of the impact of an abusive home environment on children was difficult to overstate (Nason-​Clark & Fisher-​Townsend, 2015, Chapter 2). However, although most abusers were victimized as children, the majority of children who were abused do not become abusers themselves (Aerán & Raines, 2013), which provides hope and determination for change to organizations

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Introduction

23

such as Futures Without Violence and its Fathering After Violence program (see Web-​ Based Resources). To be sure, what is in the “best interests of the child” is contested territory, something that legal scholar Linda Neilson (1997) argues is rarely considered by judges or the courts when cases of domestic violence involving the presence of children are adjudicated. A key element in this discourse of children’s best interests is that mothers are primarily responsible for ensuring that it occurs (Edelson et al., 2007). As a result, it is perhaps not surprising that it is often a deep concern for the well-​being of their children that prompts women to seek help in the aftermath of abuse at home (Rasool, 2016). Box 1.1 presents an example of a mother’s concern for her child’s well-​being. Box 1.1 A Mother’s Story of Her Son4 Andrew (a pseudonym) is a twenty-​something gay man with a heart of gold and a bucketload of challenges—​challenges that date back to before he was even born. “He was exposed to extreme stress when [I was] pregnant,” his mother, a well-​known domestic advocate, wrote to me in an e-​mail, when I asked if she would be willing for part of her personal story to be shared in our book. Soon after he was born, Andrew’s father tried to kill his mother and cause serious harm to his grandfather, a clergyman. As a result of these actions, Andrew’s father spent the remainder of his life in prison. Andrew’s life was far from easy: He slept poorly and exhibited behavior problems in preschool that led to his being in therapy by the time he was 3 years old. At about this stage in life, he began to ask his mother whether he had a father and where he was. Instructed by the therapist to “tell him no details, but not lie, [and] to say that he had a father who had been mean to Mommy and so he had to go away,” the conversations between Andrew and his mother led mostly to confusion in the young boy’s mind. Within a year, Andrew had been kicked out of two different kindergartens, revealing some examples of disruptions that would later characterize his life. School was not easy: There were examples of Andrew threatening other children, and other examples of them bullying him. In part, it was understood that he was taking out on others behavior that he believed his incarcerated father had meted out to his mother. His behavior problems at school led to the need for a one-​on-​one assistant responsible only for his care. With his mother, he vacillated between extremely loving behavior and being remarkably oppositional, defiant, and mean-​spirited. “I always seemed to be his PTSD trigger,” she wrote. By his teen years, he was skipping school, experimenting with drugs and alcohol, and really “completely out of control.” After his first arrest, he got help from the mental health court and much needed treatment. In his mid-​twenties, with his father dying in prison, Andrew’s mother arranged for a visit between the three of them—​out of state, over a period of 2 days. This was a healing moment for them all. There was an opportunity for Andrew’s parents to talk about him as a baby and for Andrew’s father to encourage Andrew to “listen to your mother and your grandparents. They love you. Don’t be like me.”

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Although the points of vulnerability are clear, part of the resiliency that Andrew has been able to harness in his life relates to the deep faith commitment of his mother and his maternal grandparents. For many years, they all lived together, supported emotionally by a broader church network of friends and family. Even now, as a young man, he has regular, weekly contact with his grandfather, who takes him out to lunch and prepares a Bible study just for him.

C O N CL US ION

By focusing on issues of vulnerability and resiliency, networking, and diversity, religious congregations and their leaders can be well positioned to harness the strengths within their midst to reach out to assist families in crisis—​victims as well as perpetrators. The literature developed among social scientists offers several clues that can assist spiritual communities in offering assistance to those whose lives have been impacted by intimate partner violence. Our discussion of intersectionality and the importance of cultural competency pushes religious congregations to think about the differences among those whom they serve—​inside their religious enclaves—​and those within the broader communities of which they are a part. We have chosen to highlight the needs of aboriginal families and recently immigrated families. Within the broader secular community, the needs of deeply religious families also require a degree of cultural competency among those secular workers who are called upon to respond to deeply religious women and men, a theme we highlight in the chapters that follow. We conclude our introduction by reminding readers that they will no doubt find themselves puzzled, surprised, disappointed, encouraged, and challenged as they sift through the various lenses through which to consider the stories of those who act abusively, those who have been victimized, and the various professionals—​especially pastors and others within the context of religious life—​who have walked alongside them. For sure, it is a story of human vulnerability, of the pain and despair that abuse creates for everyone, of the long and arduous journey toward justice and accountability, and of all the hard work needed to respond to the needs of the abused and abusers. But it is also a story of human resiliency in the face of tremendous obstacles, posed by childhood, the teen years, unwanted pregnancies, contact with the criminal justice system, and intervention services. We spotlight the role of religious professionals as they work alongside victims, or perpetrators, and those occasions when they are part of a collaborative community response. Responding to the impact of intimate partner violence occurs first as one woman and one man are helped through the pain and despair caused by abuse. Ultimately, reducing and then eliminating controlling, abusive behavior occurs as professionals and then ordinary people and ordinary communities work to change attitudes and alter behavior. Change must be intentional: It will not occur without planning and strategies. Shattering the silence and responding with compassion and best practices within communities of faith is our focus. However, faith communities live within a broader culture. The goal of altering attitudes and behavior that give rise to intimate partner violence and encouraging healthy ways to engage in relationship intimacy will only be achieved when we as a society state that this is a priority.

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25

NOT ES

1. Lived religion, the everyday practice of religion by a woman or a man, is of growing interest to sociologists of religion (Ammerman, 2007, 2014; McGuire, 2008). 2. In the Canadian context, these would be called summary offenses and criminal offenses, respectively. 3. This excellent publication is better known as the “Greenbook”; see Web-​Based Resources. 4. Permission to prepare this story was given in writing by the mother to Nancy Nason-​ Clark. After it was prepared, the mother was asked for and gave approval to how it was written.

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Victims/​Survivors

Many women throughout the world have suffered the abuse of an intimate partner in a dating, common-​law, or marital relationship. In this chapter, we focus on the stories of battered religious women, seeking to navigate the relatively uncharted waters of intimate partner violence in families of deep faith or strong religious convictions. In so doing, we examine the specific challenges that are raised or exacerbated when religion and abuse comingle in intimacy and shared family experiences. Moreover, we highlight strategies and propose solutions for responding to women when violence strikes the religious home. PATR ICIA’ S   ST O RY

Patricia Golding was smiling as she looked for a vacant spot in the church parking lot, waving to people she knew as she drove past them. Collecting her belongings and her children from the car, she went through the mental checklist of all the things she needed to do before finding her seat in the sanctuary: drop off the baby in the nursery, ensure that 3-​year-​old Suzy was in her class, take the grocery items for the food bank to the big box near the coffee bar, and sign up for the next section of Home Group near the Welcome Center. As young and old poured into the reception area of the Worship Center, it was bustling with activity. Patty tried to make contact with a few of the women she knew well—​women she met only at church or on those rare occasions when she was able to meet them at a local cafe or at the mall. Here, at church on Sunday mornings, she felt safe, loved, engaged with life, and enthusiastic about the future. Here, it was easy to smile.

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Driving home from the service, Patty began to feel her positive mood change, slowly at first, and then it evaporated quickly as she turned the corner of the street where her house was located. A multitude of thoughts and questions poured into her mind: Would Jim be angry that she had lingered a bit too long after the benediction? Would he let her attend the Home Group for this next session, or should she even mention it? Was it okay to tell Jim that Pastor Chris was asking about him or best to keep this to herself ? But really the major question on her mind, one that was particularly troubling, was, What if the church, and the leadership team, found out that she had a controlling, abusive husband who sometimes got so mad that he hit her? Patricia and James had been married for 5 years. During that time, they had lived in three different communities. They met in college and married soon after she graduated with a bachelor’s degree in early childhood education. Jim did not complete his business degree but found employment at a company in a sales position—​a job that paid fairly well. During their first year of marriage, Patty had been fortunate to get a 4-​month contract as a substitute teacher, replacing a permanent teacher on sick leave. After this job came to an end, she would get “called in” as a substitute 2 or 3 days a week. Although this situation was far from ideal, Patty was very pleased to be able to put her teaching skills to use. Jim did not like the fact that Patty was making more money as a teacher than he was in sales, so he was motivated to work very long hours, and soon his commissions exceeded her salary. Before long, she became pregnant, and Jim announced that he did not want her to work outside the home any longer. With a new baby, and less money, life during their second year of marriage was challenging. Patty did her best to stretch Jim’s paycheck to meet their household expenses, but Jim was unwilling to reduce his spending on lunches at restaurants and new electronic devices. It was very important to him that they appear to have more “consumer goods” than others. Soon there was a lot of tension at home: Bills were mounting, the small apartment seemed to grow even smaller in the evenings, and the baby was fussy. Jim believed that because he was assuming responsibility for the family finances, Patty should assume responsibility for keeping the baby content, the meals prepared, and the apartment clean. He felt entitled to her almost undivided attention when he was present and her household labor when he was not. He gave little thought to Patty, her needs, her exhaustion, or her happiness. Patty and Jim both grew up in families connected to faith communities. Both shared certain values that were broadly linked to such an upbringing, including a belief that marriage was forever, forgiveness was a sign of virtue, and family togetherness was second only to godliness. Patty believed strongly that attending worship services was important for her spiritual development and that personal devotions and participation in a small group study were ways to enhance her relationship with God and with other believers. Jim was not inclined to commit himself to regular church attendance, although occasionally he would join Patty and the children. He refused to participate in any small group gatherings and resented the fact that Patty found these both spiritually uplifting and socially enjoyable. As a result, he would sometimes sabotage her ability to attend, making some unreasonable demand on her at just the same time that the group was scheduled to meet. Patty was very forgiving of Jim’s unreasonable expectations and even the early days of his abusive behavior toward her. She blamed herself for having agreed to have sex

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with him before marriage. She blamed herself for having refused to listen to her parents when they cautioned her about marrying him so early in their dating relationship. She felt guilty about her own unhappiness. She felt responsible to make Jim happy. She clung to the notion that he could and would change. She viewed his unreasonableness as part of the testing she was called to endure. She prayed for strength and for patience. She wanted a perfect family and asked God to help make it so. And then she waited . . . waited for things to get better. By their third move, Patty was living at some distance from her family and the girlfriends she had made through her teaching job or at the “young mom’s” group at church. She was feeling isolated at home. She now had a second child, and although they had a house, it was small and their expenses were considerable. Everything seemed to be closing in on her. Jim was very jealous of the way Patty loved and cared for the children. He began to demand more of her. He became irresponsible in his spending. He accepted little responsibility for the children. He monitored where she went and with whom. One evening, when she suggested that perhaps she should seek some substitute teaching work as a way to assist with their financial struggles, he flew into a rage and hit her several times. In the aftermath of the violence, Patty felt like she had nowhere to turn. In desperation, she thought about the one place where she always felt safe—​church. However, she was frightened to call the pastor, frightened that he would not understand, frightened that she would be considered spiritually immature, and frightened that the pastor might contact Jim and life at home would get worse. The morning after the beating, Jim was unusually considerate of her and the children. He said he did not mean to hurt her. He asked for forgiveness. Then he reminded her that it was her Christian responsibility to forgive “seventy times seven.” He said if she told anyone what had happened, he would retaliate. Gossiping about their intimate life, he warned, would be evidence that she did not have a forgiving spirit. A further incident 2 months later very much scared Patricia. They were returning from a social event at the home of one of Jim’s co-​workers. Jim accused Patty of flirting with one of the men at the party. He hit her in the face with his right fist as he was driving. This caused her to scream and Jim to swerve the car into the lane of oncoming traffic. She sat motionless for the remainder of the trip home but vowed to herself that the next morning she would take action. Indeed, the next day, after Jim left for work, Patty called the church office and asked to speak to the pastor. As we have learned from our ongoing research program, what happens next determines in large measure whether Patty’s faith community will contribute to the ongoing problems in her life or contribute to her safety and mental health. Will her pastor and the congregation be part of the problem or part of the solution? Will they thwart or will they augment her journey toward peace and protection at home? She will learn quickly whether it is safe to disclose to her pastor that she has been violated by her husband. U N DER STA NDING THE  CHALLE NGE S

Patricia’s story1 highlights many of the central features of the lives of deeply religious women who have been abused by an intimate partner. Her faith and her faith community can be a resource or an obstacle. Her religious leader can help or hinder

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Patricia, and other women like her, on the road to healing and wholeness. If Patricia seeks help first from her pastor or from other women in the congregation, they will likely emphasize her spiritual life as a resource to be harnessed at her point of need. They will most likely suggest both practical and emotional help and encourage her to seek safety for herself and her children if they believe that her physical or psychological health is in danger. However, they may not understand the level of danger, or they may exaggerate Jim’s remorse or Patricia’s agency in the face of obstacles. They may inadvertently add to her woes by increasing her feelings of guilt or even her resolve that she must try harder. Before we examine the challenges facing deeply religious women who are abused, we need to consider various elements of Patricia’s story. Patricia’s main support network involves her faith community. She feels safe, affirmed, and cared for within the context of congregational life. She likes attending church, associating with others who attend the congregation, and looks to the church and its leaders for guidance and strength. She finds the focus on her spiritual well-​being uplifting. The pastor knows her name, the name of her husband, and shows interest in their family. The children are connected to age-​appropriate programs (the nursery and Children’s Church). She enjoys the Home Group and its opportunity for sharing and caring. As discussed later in this chapter, there is much to be harnessed in a congregational setting for a woman such as Patricia. However, there is also much to be lost if the call for help falls on deaf ears or the advice fails to take into account the dynamics of abuse or the level of danger. Much is at stake. Patty knows this too. That is why she is reluctant at first to turn to the pastor or her church community for help with a problem such as abuse. Not unlike other abused women who may or may not be religiously inclined, Patricia experiences fear, shame, guilt, and an initial desire to keep her personal woes private (Asay, DeFrain, Metzger, & Moyer, 2014; Martin, 1981). She tries to comply with her husband’s wishes even when they appear somewhat unreasonable. She is reticent to ask for outside help—​even from her family. However, like most abused women, she exhibits agency in the face of danger to herself and her children.2 What makes the story of Patty and other religious women unique is the way that the faith component in the lives of religious believers intertwines with both their experience of abuse and the road that is traveled in its aftermath. Patty believes that God’s design for family living is a call to be together forever. Divorce is frowned upon by her community of faith, even if it is permitted. Patty believes that she should be a forgiving person, obeying what the Scriptures command (Fortune, 1988; McDill & McDill, 1991). Because God has forgiven her, she believes that she should forgive Jim and keep on doing so whether or not Jim has changed his behavior as a result. Patty accepts that it is her responsibility to model Christ-​like behavior at home and elsewhere; she believes that by her steadfast devotion to God and her caring actions at home, Jim will be compelled to change his ways. She reminds herself that it was his spiritual sensitivity that was central in drawing her to him in the first place. God has great things in store for them as a couple—​she is sure of it. As a result, she draws great comfort from the hope that with God all things are for a purpose. Sometimes she believes that God is testing her—​just as Jesus was tested in the wilderness. Sometimes she thinks about the fact that Jesus, too, was betrayed by someone he loved and trusted—​betrayed by a kiss from Judas. As Patricia meditates upon these things, she evaluates her own life and her current trials.3 She decides to pray for strength to endure, compassion to keeping loving Jim, and determination to succeed in her marriage no matter what the costs.

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A B USED R EL IGIOUS WOM E N: FINDINGS F R OM OU R R ESEAR CH PR OGRAM

Our research reveals that many religious women seek help first from their faith community when violence strikes at home. However, there are a number of features of a story such as that of Patricia that give a woman cause to be cautious in seeking such guidance. Perhaps that helps to explain why religious women seem to wait longer than other women to leave an abusive marriage, temporarily or forever (regarding Christian women, see Bonnycastle, 2004; Griffin & Maples, 1997; Knickmeyer, Levitt, Horne, & Bayer, 2003; regarding Jewish women, see Lebovics 1998; regarding Amish women, see Espenshade & Alexander 2004a, 2004b). The focus on family values in many large evangelical congregations can be a double-​ edged sword to women such as Patty. She wants a vibrant congregation with many programs for her children and for other mothers who are in the same stage of life as her. The disadvantage in contexts such as these is that often there is a tendency to deny or minimize the negative side of family life, such as intimate partner violence or extramarital affairs. Patricia wants to be known in this community as a woman who supports “family” values—​not as someone who has failed at marital happiness. The sweet Sunday smile can be deceptive, for just below the surface a religious woman can fear that her world is falling apart. Many religious women, like Patty, are concerned that if they identify their personal troubles, their spiritual credentials may be questioned by others, including the leadership, and then found wanting. Furthermore, many conservative Christian congregations endorse a view of gender relations that is referred to as complementarian (as opposed to egalitarian). While emphasizing equality between women and men in terms of dignity, value, essence, and human nature, complementarians argue that men and women were created for distinct roles, with men exercising loving authority over women, and women offering willing, glad-​hearted, and submissive assistance to men (for a detailed explanation of their views, see https://​cbmw.org). For complementarians, wife battering in a religious home happens because individual men act in sinful, unloving ways toward the wives over whom they should exercise loving authority, not because of an improper understanding of how wives and husbands should relate to each another as equals in a Christian marriage. Since the founding of the Council for Biblical Manhood and Womanhood in 1987 to promote complementarianism among evangelical Christians, and because some conservative denominations and their leaders endorse it, several high-​profile evangelical organizations and some well-​known megachurch pastors have promoted the complementarian view of gender relations as the Bible’s view, and it has become a test of religious orthodoxy among some congregations. There are both extreme and moderate versions of this position, but social science research has shown that among conservative Christian followers, there is often a difference between ideology regarding issues of headship/​submission and actual practice. Nancy Tatom Ammerman (1987), in Bible Believers, explores this issue in detail, as do Bartkowski (2001, 1997), Gallagher and Smith (1999), and Gallagher (2004). It is clear, however, that battered highly religious women sometimes talk about notions of submission and how it might apply in their circumstances, and religious men who batter are often enthusiastic about the notion of male headship.

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How Religion Complicates the Life of an Abused Woman Listed here are 11 points identified within our program of research that reveal how and under what circumstances religious faith and the involvement of a religious community can be understood as complicating the life of a woman such as Patty, making her journey more difficult or placing obstacles on her pathway to hope. These include ways that religious leaders hinder her search for healing and wholeness and some religious beliefs or practices that exacerbate her pain or sense of isolation. 1. Women are disadvantaged when clergy lack knowledge about the dynamics of abuse. Less than 10% of Christian pastors feel well equipped to respond to the needs of abused women who seek their help. They underestimate the prevalence and severity of abuse, especially as it relates to families of deep religious commitment. They believe that rates of abuse are lower in their congregations than in the wider community that they serve. As such, they are more likely to identify abuse as a problem for those outside of “their flock.” When a woman such as Patricia seeks their help, they may focus on her husband’s plea for forgiveness rather than noting that he was sorry that she was hurt but not sorry that he caused her pain. The gendered nature of intimate partner violence is something that clergy might not have considered before, although through their experience, they know that more women than men seek their help after abuse has occurred. However, we are in the midst of a global wave of heightened awareness concerning women’s issues generally and domestic violence in particular. The United Nations (2013) campaign, UNiTE to End Violence Against Women, declared intimate partner violence as the most prevalent form of violence against women, and in 2013, the World Health Organization published results from an international study on the global prevalence rates for intimate partner violence based on data collected in 78 countries. Clergy are sometimes unaware of the intergenerational patterns of abuse and the harm that comes to children who witness abuse in the home. They may not understand that most abusers are temporarily remorseful for the hurt and chaos that has been created as a result of their violence. If women seek help first from a religious leader, how the abuse is understood will impact the advice that is given. Although there is no evidence from our research that clergy intentionally put women in danger, ill-​prepared clergy tend to underestimate the severity, the prevalence, and the impact of a woman’s disclosure of abuse. It is important to understand that many women do not share too much of their story at once, so an untrained leader is much less likely to pick up on clues from the conversation or to know what questions to ask or how to assess levels of danger. Rarely does a woman say to her pastor, “I am being abused by my husband and I am concerned about the safety of my children.” She is far more likely to say, “My life is falling apart—​pastor, help me to be a better wife and mother.” In their 1979 book Violence Against Wives: A Case Against the Patriarchy, Dobash and Dobash claim that the seeds of intimate partner violence lie in the subordination of females to males, subjecting women, as wives, to male authority and control. They argue these intimate relationships between women and men have been institutionalized in the structure of the patriarchal family, a structure that is supported by economic, political, and religious institutions. A  few years later, Joy Bussert

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(1986) goes further. In Battered Women:  From a Theology of Suffering to an Ethic of Empowerment, she contends that as long as theological traditions cling to submission as the theory of choice for male–​female marital relationships, that abuse will inevitably continue as the practice. For many, the Judeo-​Christian religious framework plays a role in both the etiology and the continued support for certain attitudes about women, particularly in marriage, although whether such beliefs are inherent within the belief system is a subject on which there is much debate (Daly, 1973; Fiorenza & Copeland, 1994; Kroeger & Beck, 1996, 1998; Ruether, 1974; Sevcik, Rothery, Nason-​Clark, & Pynn, 2015). From this vantage point, then, the lack of knowledge among religious leaders about this issue is strategic. It flows from a belief that keeping marriages together is of primary importance and that empowering women to make informed choices on their own might threaten the stability of the family; it does not construct male violence as primarily responsible for the dissolution of such relationships. 2. Abused women are disadvantaged when clergy do not understand the importance of referrals or the process of identifying appropriate referral sources, or they do not follow through after a suggestion has been made. Few clergy refer abused women who seek their help to others in community-​based agencies, to private practice specialists, or to colleagues in other churches or parachurch organizations. In terms of percentages, less than 5% refer regularly (which we consider to be five or more times per year), and vast numbers have never suggested a referral to anyone. Referrals are more likely to occur among those pastors who have received seminary or post-​seminary training in issues related to domestic violence or those who have family members (e.g., a sister or a mother) who has experienced abuse. Referrals are least likely to happen where they are needed most—​among the pastors with limited training on abuse and limited experience of its pain or angst. When a woman such as Patricia finds her way to the pastoral study to talk about what has happened in her life, she presents with a number of questions and practical concerns. She may be unaware of the resources available in the general community and those within the scope of her faith community. She may need financial or legal advice. She may need immediate respite or a plan regarding her safety. She may need psychological services. She may need to see a physician or to talk to a victim advocate about the advantages of a restraining order. If the religious leader explores with Patricia the variety of professionals and community-​based services that she is able to access, if she chooses to do so, then Patty is in a much better position to evaluate her own needs and how they might be met. When a religious leader encourages a woman who has reason to be fearful to think about her safety, the leader is implying by that encouragement that God is concerned about her safety. When a religious leader encourages a woman to call 911 when violence strikes or to flee to the women’s shelter, such advice from the pastor, priest, rabbi, or imam is empowered with spiritual conviction. It helps to dispel the fear that Patty might harbor that a spiritual woman should never call 911 or go to a transition house to seek safety or refuge. It offers her one more tool or strategy for the rebuilding of her life in the aftermath of abuse. Although in Chapter 5 we consider more fully the process of referrals—​especially bidirectional referrals between secular and sacred sources of support—​it is important to note here that many women find it very difficult to take

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the additional step and look beyond their faith community for support. Thus, when a religious leader helps to bridge that gap, the impact is significant for a victim. The relationship between clergy and mental health professionals is complex. On the one hand, clergy may believe that they are not qualified as counselors, yet they often find themselves thrust into counseling situations (Leavey, Loewenthal, & King, 2007). At the same time, highly religious individuals often seek the advice or even the endorsement of clergy before they will be willing to access a mental health professional (McMullin, 2013), and because women tend to be more religious than men, it is more likely that religious women will seek out a pastor for counsel (Ellison, Flannelly, Vaaler, & Weaver, 2006). For some time, clergy have been viewed as gatekeepers, particularly in relation to the mental health needs of their parishioners (Clemens, Corradi, & Wasman, 1978; Hong & Wiehe, 1974). Others view pastors as a bridge between help from family and friends and help from a professional counselor (Clark & Thomas, 1979; Nason-​Clark & Holtmann, 2013b). Psychologist Andrew Weaver (1993) believes that domestic violence is the number one pastoral mental health emergency. However, the relationship between theology and psychology, or specifically that between pastors and secular therapists, has often been stormy, in part because of the competing frameworks that are employed to offer help. Some pastors or other religious leaders might even argue that certain religious values are in conflict with certain treatment or intervention options. There is a small but growing literature suggesting that this might be the case in Muslim communities (Alkhateeb & Abugideiri, 2007). In some religious circles, there are rather tight or rigid boundaries, indicating who is included or not included in group membership. In the conservative Christian context, those inside the fold are referred to as “sheep” and the outsiders as “goats,” a nod to the biblical distinction made in many passages of the Old and New Testaments. Where the distinctions are very important, there are likely to be reservations about help-​seeking behavior outside of the explicitly religious framework that has been adopted for daily living. In fact, it has been noted that conservative Protestants prefer church-​based to secular-​based interventions for mental health care (Kunst, 1993) and that believers in these contexts prefer mental health therapists who share their religious worldview (Omark, 1977) and are cautious about choosing service providers (McLatchie & Draguns, 1984). These reservations are far more likely to surface in faith communities that emphasize separation from the world (Ammerman, 1987), believing it to be a sign of weakness to the outside world that they experience problems of an emotional or psychological nature. In an article titled “Referrals Between Clergy and Community-​ Based Resources:  Challenges and Opportunities,” Nason-​Clark, McMullin, Fahlberg, and Schaefer (2011) outlined some of the impediments to bidirectional referrals between pastors and community-​based service providers such as psychologists or social workers. In general, pastors with more extensive counseling experience revealed a greater willingness to refer, but they also did not differentiate in their referrals between those counselors or professionals in the community who shared or did not share their Christian worldview. Rather, they referred on the basis of the service provider’s expertise or professional skills. Clergy with a more highly developed referral network were able to match parishioners’ needs with appropriate community referrals. However, something else very interesting emerged when the data were examined more closely: Those pastors who made referrals were able to outline far more

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clearly than their non-​referring colleagues the unique role of the pastoral counselor. In other words, networking opportunities had challenged them to think through their own specific contribution to those in need and, as a result, these clergy were far more explicit in their discussion of the spiritual emphasis in the work they did with those who sought their help for counseling. The impact of this should not be underestimated. Explicitly spiritual resources are usually what abused religious women are hoping to receive when they contact their religious leaders after intimate partner violence. Clergy who are more informed on the subject of abuse and are familiar with community-​based resources and willing to collaborate and cooperate with those resources, by referrals and ongoing association, are themselves challenged to think through what they offer women and men in crisis. Many pastors are reluctant to see marriages end, even abusive ones: They frown upon divorce, believing that many couples give up prematurely in their attempts to salvage the relationship. They hold out hope that assistance from others will make a difference. But who actually decides when all sources of help for the relationship have been exhausted? From the point of view of an agency director, many clergy are reluctant to refer to any community-​based worker they believe has been strongly influenced by the secular feminist movement. This is especially problematic for women who have been abused. There is great distrust and sometimes fear among clergy of what advice might be offered should a referral suggestion lead to ongoing contact between a feminist-​ inspired worker and a parishioner. For some, there is concern that a referral might lead a woman to abandon her faith or to give up on the marriage too quickly. This viewpoint is held in various faith traditions and not only among the most conservative.4 In Chapter 6, we discuss the challenges of collaboration more fully, including the need for bidirectional referrals and sensitivity training for all those who work in multidisciplinary initiatives. To be sure, referrals are an important first step in any bridge-​building enterprise between religious congregations and community-​based services and professionals. Learning when and how to refer is critical, as is to whom a referral should be made. Although most would agree that training is a vital part of the referral-​making process, so too are tact, courage, and humility—​which are often in short supply. 3. Abused religious women, as well as clergy, overestimate a man’s willingness and ability to change his abusive and controlling behavior. Religious professionals are skilled at offering hope. They tend to see the glass as half full. For those who are part of traditions that espouse a conversion experience, dramatic change is central to the religious belief system and its language. As we argued in Men Who Batter (Nason-​Clark & Fisher-​Townsend, 2015), the language of faith is replete with notions of second chances, forgiveness, hope, love, insight, repentance, and renewal (p. 186). Many religious traditions, especially the more conservative or evangelical ones, talk about conversion directly. By this, they mean a person turns away from the old life and embraces a new life fashioned in likeness to God. Such an emphasis offers hope to those who batter, but it also offers great hope to those religious women who have been abused. In fact, this is part of the reason why abused religious women may wait longer to report their abuse and leave an abusive relationship, temporarily or forever. Thus, when a woman such as Patty seeks help from her pastor

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or priest, she is most likely already optimistic that if her partner would access the help of their religious leader, her partner would change. Consistently throughout our research program, we have found that religious women cling to notions that if batterer intervention services were available for their abusive partners, and those partners would attend such group meetings, the violence would stop and peace would be restored to the home. Clergy also believe abused men can and will change—​they exhibit optimism even in the face of many years of experience of limited change in the lives of those abusers with whom they have worked. The point here is not to be critical of the need for hope in the face of tremendous personal and structural obstacles. Some degree of hope must be present for everyone involved in the journey of men toward changed thinking and altered behavior. This is as true for the men themselves as it is for the workers who walk alongside them. However, given that abused religious women tend toward much enthusiasm and hope that peace and safety will be restored to their homes, it is critical that religious leaders offer an antidote to this excessive optimism. Wise pastoral counsel involves helping victims to understand that God’s provision is not limited to changed behavior in their abuser. In some of the earliest American quantitative studies to consider the involvement of clergy in the lives of abused women, Bowker (1982) found that 40% of women who had been battered sought assistance from religious leaders. In another study of 350 abused women, Pagelow and Johnson (1988) reported that 28% looked to pastors or priests for help. In a smaller study, Horton, Wilkins, and Wright (1988) found that within a sample of 187 women, 54% of religious victims and 38% of non-​religious victims turned to ministers for support in dealing with their abusive intimate partner. Recent studies reveal similar patterns for Seventh Day Adventist (Drumm, Popescu, & Kersting, 2009), Jewish (Lebovics, 1998), and African American evangelical women (Dyer, 2011). It is important to remember that although we know that many women look to their religious leaders for help after violence strikes at home, we know far less about the nature of the advice that they receive. 4. Most clergy underestimate a woman’s vulnerability when abuse occurs, and especially the unique vulnerability of a religious woman. When a woman such as Patricia meets with her pastor, she will certainly have questions of a religious or spiritual nature. As we argued in Refuge from Abuse: Healing and Hope for Abused Christian Women (Nason-​Clark & Kroeger, 2004), these questions include the following: Where is God in the midst of my suffering? What did I do to deserve this? What does God expect of me now? Is divorce an option? and Do I have to keep on forgiving forever? Sometimes a woman such as Patricia first goes for help to a transition house or other community-​based agency. Although the staff in these contexts is trained to respond to the emergency needs of victimized women requiring shelter, the staff is usually not skilled in helping counsel women about their journey of faith. In fact, some of the workers might believe that it is a woman’s faith that is a major contributor to the violence she has suffered. Here, she might feel cautious about sharing too much about her religious practices or beliefs, or she might even keep her faith a secret. She may want to shelter her church or mosque or synagogue from criticism, or she may wish to protect herself from questions about her faith. In other words, if Patty looks first to her

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faith community for help, she may minimize the impact of the abuse. If she looks first to a transition house, she may hide her identity as a believer or the religious identity of her abuser. If the shelter worker does not introduce the topic of religion, or religious identity, then often it is not discussed. When women seek both sacred and secular sources of help, or they seek help from their pastor who suggests other points of contact as well, women gain both the perspective of workers who are trained in the area of domestic violence and the perspective of those who are trained in the language of the spirit. We need to be very clear on this: Both perspectives are critical in the life of an abused religious woman. To our initial surprise, we have found that many religious leaders are reluctant or unable to offer explicitly spiritual support to women who come to them for help after abuse has occurred. In fact, we have learned from clergy that they feel more comfortable offering practical support and help and less comfortable assisting a woman in addressing her spiritual angst. Women themselves are often disappointed with the support they receive from religious leaders. We have learned that women seek the help of a priest or rabbi in order to gain spiritual perspective and spiritual nourishment for the long journey ahead. Such support is what they often do not receive. For those women who do received it—​the very fortunate ones—​it becomes a major strategy in helping them to feel empowered to reshape their lives. Early research studies on the responses of clergy to abused women—​those conducted in the 1980s—​found that women were often disappointed after they sought pastoral assistance for problems related to domestic violence. Horton et al. (1988) reported that women were critical of the help they received from their pastors but that they were also critical of the help they received from secular resources. Fully 25% of Horton et al.’s sample of abused women believed that no outside intervention at all was effective in responding to their concerns and problems. In the Bowker (1982) study, in which one-​third of the abused women had received some form of support from their religious leaders (and 10% of their husbands had as well), the women rated clergy effectiveness lower than the effectiveness of other formal sources of help. Criticisms often focused on the lack of clerical understanding of women’s entrapment in a dangerous relationship, the minimization of the danger to women and the children, or the notion of women being blamed or made to feel guilty for the violence they had experienced. In their 1991 book, Shattered and Broken: Wife Abuse in the Christian Community, the McDills implore clergy to emphasize to battered religious women that they can be part of stopping the violence by taking such actions as calling the police, leaving the house, and seeking shelter. 5. Many clergy are not equipped to harness the beliefs and practices of their religious tradition to help an abused religious woman at her point of need. In many religious traditions, the pastors or leaders preach, counsel, educate, and administer the sacred practices among those who identify with their congregation or their faith perspective. In addition, they often visit the sick, the elderly, and the bereaved. In these contexts, they are mediating between the needs of the people and the message of the faith tradition. They are offering services and advice; they are sharing God’s love with those who are enduring some of the more challenging aspects of life. And, it must be noted, religious leaders are often very skilled at offering care and counsel in the face of human need. With regard to abuse, however, many religious leaders feel afraid and

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stymied in their response. They do not know how to bring the healing balm of Gilead to a problem such as intimate partner violence. They are not trained to do so at seminary or in other contexts later in ministry. However, perhaps more disconcerting, they seem unable or unwilling to translate the general principles they have learned in seminary to the problem of abuse. It is important to note that the challenges in seminaries do not result primarily from an unwillingness of administrators and faculty to address the issue. Instead, the challenges are both practical and structural. For example, many seminary faculty members are as unprepared to respond as are their students, and the expectations of congregations and the requirements for accreditation make it difficult to fit instruction about domestic violence into a crowded curriculum. In one of our surveys, we asked clergy to indicate if they had ever preached a message in which they had spoken out against domestic abuse or whether they raise the issue of abuse in their premarital counseling. Most clergy have never preached such a message and infrequently, if ever, have they discussed abusive or controlling behavior in their meetings with young (or older) couples soon to be married. What an opportunity lost—​yet, on second reflection, what does this omission reveal about the way that religious leaders think about intimate partner violence and its impact? In 2006, we developed the Religion and Violence e-​Learning initiative (the RAVE Project; http://​www.theraveproject.org) as a way to respond to the expressed need of clergy for resources and training and the expressed desire of religious women who were battered for spiritual help and guidance. The RAVE website provides resources such as sample sermons, prayers, and Scripture verses that might be especially appropriate for those impacted by abuse, in addition to ample other resources to understand domestic violence and to respond with compassion and best practices to its severity and prevalence, as well as its impact. In our work with the RAVE Project in Columbia, Missouri, the data collected there were especially helpful in making clear some of the surprising differences between mainline and conservative Protestant responses to domestic violence. Battered women face different challenges based on faith tradition:  Conservative Protestant clergy may condemn the violence but emphasize marriage preservation, whereas mainline Protestant clergy may be unwilling to believe that domestic violence exists in a mainline congregation and therefore make it unlikely that a woman will seek help from her pastor. Our research team was not the first to recognize that religious leaders were off the mark when it came to responding to the needs of violated women and children. However, we were among the first to study this empirically as social scientists and then to provide resources, online and in print, that would begin to address the chasm between the needs of religious women and the reluctance of religious professionals to offer explicitly spiritually infused help. In the early 1980s, there were lone voices in various denominational contexts—​often a clergywoman or a married couple who were in some form of a counseling ministry together—​that spoke out against abuse and pointed out that the shepherds (e.g., pastors) needed to be aware of wolves (e.g., abusive religious men) among the sheep. A pioneer in the area of religion and intimate partner violence is The FaithTrust Institute. Founded in 1979 by theologian and social ethicist Marie Fortune, the FaithTrust Institute (http://​www.faithtrustinstitute.org) and its staff and volunteers have worked tirelessly to raise awareness of matters of sexual and domestic violence throughout the United States and beyond by offering training and support in

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a multifaith context. Throughout the years, a small but mighty chorus of feminist-​ inspired theological writers have also raised their voices for change. One issue about which they have been very critical is the preponderance of clergy who were on the bandwagon of “save the family” irrespective of the cost (Alsdurf & Alsdurf, 1988; Horton & Williamson, 1988; Kroeger & Beck, 1998). 6. Abused women are disadvantaged when clergy feel caught between the demands of their religious tradition (and/​or their local congregation) to discourage divorce and the reality of homes in which safety and peace are compromised by violence and control. For many years, a holy hush has permeated religious organizations—​cathedrals and small churches alike—​when it comes to any discussion of violence at home. Leaders as well as followers deny or minimize its prevalence in their own midst. Some sweep the issue under the proverbial church carpet hoping that it will be kept out of sight. Others relegate it to the closet called “Women’s Ministry” as if women who are its victims are the source of the trouble. It is then labeled a woman’s problem—​ something women are supposed to solve. The irony of this, particularly in churches in which women are not allowed to teach men, is profound. To be sure, controlling and abusive behavior is certainly a problem for men, but few congregations view it this way. Although the holy hush is being shattered as individuals and groups begin to find and exercise their voice, there is still ample evidence of it lingering in the corners of congregational life. For example, most religious leaders do not name violence in the family context for what it is. Instead, they refer to family conflict, severe disagreements, or problems of communication. Also, most pastors, priests, and rabbis have never visited the transition house in their local area. They do not know the workers by name, and they do not have their contact information readily available. In addition, most youth leaders fail to discuss unhealthy dating relationships with the young men and women who attend their youth activities. What is celebrated on a regular basis, however, are family values. In some conservative circles, this is code language for resisting the onslaught of feminism or egalitarian thinking or liberal notions of gender. But really, family values just means great enthusiasm for certain kinds of families and great distain for, and skepticism about, other kinds of families. Most celebrated of all are those intact families composed of a once-​married heterosexual couple and their dependent children. It is interesting that the talk of family values rarely relates to the process of family living or to explicit help or strategies to maintain living in peace as a married couple. Once the family unit is violent or dissolves, clergy may believe they have failed in their response to its members. Rather than viewing their input as keeping a woman and her children safe by encouraging her to leave temporarily, and then forever, they view the end of the marriage as the failure of the couple and the failure of their personal pastoral counsel and support. Religious leaders need help to see that they have been successful in their intervention attempts when a woman chooses safety for herself and her children rather than continuing to live in an environment in which her security is compromised. In Women, Abuse and the Bible: How Scriptures Can Be Used to Hurt or Heal (1996) and Healing the Hurting: Giving Hope and Help to Abused Women (1998), Catherine

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Clark Kroeger and James Beck present a series of chapters and arguments to highlight how religious professionals need to interpret the Scriptures correctly and then work together in the wider community to respond with forgiveness and grace to those who have suffered from intimate partner violence or other forms of abuse in the family context. In her first essay in Healing the Hurting, Kroeger shares thoughts about her visit to a man in prison who had recently killed his wife and two children—​all of them members of an evangelical Christian congregation. She asks us to consider all of the ways that religious leaders and their congregations have failed both perpetrators and victims. Various chapters in their edited collections recount the individual stories of women or examples of pastoral care gone awry. It calls for change even as it tries to make it happen. 7. Abused women can be placed in harm’s way when clergy are unable or unwilling to see the shorter and longer term consequences of a web of abuse that involves violent acts in an intimate relationship. Violence touches many of us at our core: We either recognize in our own lives the tendency to control others or we have suffered violation and humiliation ourselves. As a result of this self-​awareness, we grow impatient with those who question the prevalence and severity of its very existence. However, it is important to recognize that the topic makes many people feel uncomfortable: They prefer to live in ignorance, believing that in their neighborhoods and families, including their particular church family, it does not occur. As a result, they conceptualize abuse as someone else’s problem. In No Place for Abuse (Kroeger & Nason-​Clark, 2010), we argued that the silence of churches and leaders has often been interpreted in the public square as complicity with violent acts (p. 19). This is very unfortunate. It robs congregations and their leaders of the possibility of ministering to others and speaking out against this evil. It robs people of faith who are victimized of a resource and robs perpetrators of an additional accountability structure. Without an adequate understanding of the dynamics of abuse, it enhances the possibility that one might minimize the risks and exaggerate the feasibility and impact of potential solutions. It is very serious indeed. Advice offered hastily and in the absence of knowledge of the context and course of the problem jeopardizes the emotional and physical safety of women and children. The subtitle of Anne Horton and Judith Williamson’s (1988) edited book on abuse and religion published more than 25 years ago states it clearly: When Praying Isn’t Enough. During approximately the past 25  years, our research program has documented that most religious leaders do not dismiss outright a victim’s call for help or suggest that she simply go home and pray that the violence will end. However, if even one pastor, priest, rabbi, or imam says something that suggests that an intimate partner’s violent behavior is a woman’s fault and that increasing her spiritual practices will change the violent behavior of her intimate partner, that needs to be challenged and changed. What happens more frequently is that a religious leader downplays the seriousness of the offense, does not identify the behavior as abuse, fails to offer referral suggestions, and conceptualizes the issues as a family problem to be solved by family members working together for change. Sometimes clergy suggest couple counseling or confront the abuser, both of which that have great potential for increasing the danger to the

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abused partner. Sometimes they attempt to work separately with both the violated and the violator, which is not endorsed by professional best practices. 8. Some clergy, and many seminary students training to be pastors, conceptualize domestic violence as one possible consequence of not following what they believe to be the biblical understanding of marriage. Drawing on passages such as Ephesians 5, they simplify the problem of abuse and the solution to it, and they often appeal to the abused woman, rather than to the abusive man, to change. There is substantial debate in the Christian community as to what comprises a biblical understanding of marriage. Much has been written about this subject, and until very recently, the issue of violence or abuse was not even discussed in these contexts (Nason-​Clark, 1997, Chapter 2; Tracy, 2005). There are organizations in the United States, Canada, and other countries that extol the virtues of one particular way of conceptualizing marriage—​that way being described as God’s way, or the biblical pattern, or marriages that follow explicitly religious principles. Although it is unfair and incorrect to collapse all the material on marriage according to God as being of one voice—​for certainly it is not—​much of the writing expands the notion that there is one biblical pattern for “correct” family relations and that those who deviate from it suffer consequences. Sometimes, but not always, abuse is listed as an example of errant family responsibilities and inappropriate lines of decision-​making. Those writing in this genre generally believe that how one conceptualizes family life is the major factor in encouraging or discouraging certain explicit behaviors. However, social science research that investigates matters of the family reports that many people are inconsistent in following behaviorally what they say they believe ideologically (Bartkowski, 2004; Gallagher, 2002; Wilcox, 2004). Although this may seem to take us away from our discussion of abuse, it is actually very pertinent. At one level, whether one conceptualizes the family as hierarchical or egalitarian under the banner of the Judeo-​ Christian perspective, the family should not ever be related to excessive control or abuse or violence. Irrespective of these conceptual or ideological differences—​and they are important, of course—​there is no place for abuse. Not in any family. Ever. Although ideological views of marriage and family may be used by some to justify or to excuse or hide family violence, reducing the problem of violence to these ideological matters gives the incorrect message that abuse flourishes only in certain religious traditions or among families that support or reject certain principles such as egalitarianism or complementarianism.5 There is scant evidence to support such a claim. Violence flourishes where it is left unchallenged. It is not just inappropriate; it must be condemned. In every context. For men and for women. Always. 9. A few religious leaders deny the reality or the seriousness of abuse, think that believers should not look to outside sources of help when abuse strikes the religious home, or counsel a woman to pray and try harder. These patterns have been identified more often by immigrant women. The immigration process is long and challenging, and it involves much uncertainty about the future. Most women have immigrated with the intention of creating a better life for themselves and for their families. Immigrant women often emphasize their

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religious identities and practices following immigration as a source of comfort during challenging times.6 These identities and practices are both personal and collective. Most Muslim women do not look to the mosque upon arrival because collective religious practices are not normative in their countries of origin. In some regions of the country with smaller populations and fewer immigrant families, there are significant difficulties bridging the tremendous ethno-​religious and linguistic differences among Muslims. As a result, the mosque may not be the best place to start in terms of offering social support to families experiencing violence. It may be more pragmatic to focus on informal Muslim networks or cultural associations. When religious immigrant women fear that a disclosure of abuse might spread to the wider immigrant community, they are more likely to seek sources of help outside of their ethno-​religious minority networks. Others fear that any talk about violence to those outside of their community might place their ethno-​religious community in a bad light in the eyes of the native-​born population. There can be pressure from within the community to be “model” citizens in their new home. Consequently, some immigrant women do not share their pain with anyone. Although their stories are unique, there are overlapping features between religious women who are immigrants and religious women who view their beliefs and practices as setting them apart from others. In both cases, there can be a reluctance to share their struggles outside of the relatively closed community. However, there can also be a reluctance to share inside their communities. This can place immigrant women who are religious, but really all women who are religious, in a conflictual situation. Because immigrant women are new to the country or the region, they lack social support networks and are often unfamiliar with their legal rights and the available public services. The story is slightly different for Christian immigrant women, such as those from the Korean community. Many Korean Christian immigrant women have come to Canada for the sake of their children’s future. The family makes the decision to immigrate based on the highly competitive nature of the Korean education system and the toll it takes on their children’s mental and physical health. For some, they believe the move to Canada will keep their children safe from the epidemic of suicide among students in South Korea. Korean Christian couples make sacrifices for the sake of their children, often with the mothers moving to Canada to parent children enrolled in the public school and university system while many of the fathers continue to work in their home country. Korean mothers give up their careers and deal with the loneliness that results from living apart from their husbands. Korean fathers miss their wives and children. Some of these transnational situations lead to conflict within Korean immigrant families. Korean Christian women speak to one another about family conflict in their church’s faith sharing groups. They describe family conflict as twofold:  one source being the shift in social status between husbands and wives and the other being the differences in Canadian and Korean parenting styles. With the move to Canada, Korean wives are immersed in a new society and become part of religious and cultural social support networks. As a result, they learn English and a whole host of practical skills, from managing all the household expenses to navigating the bureaucracy of the Canadian immigration systems. Korean immigrant women develop stronger self-​ confidence and autonomy. Many of their children excel in the new academic milieu and take advantage of opportunities to participate in extracurricular activities such as music lessons and sports.

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If their Korean husbands visit or decide to immigrate and join their families, the men are sensitive to the change in their social status in Canada. They are unable to communicate in the public sphere with the ease with which their wives or children can do so in English. The social respect that the men gained among their peers from their career status in Korea is also absent. The men have lost status outside of the family. The gender roles and accompanying power dynamics within the family are also shifting. This results in conflict between husbands and wives and between fathers and children. The fathers’ expectations of their children are based on their experiences in Korea, where the children are completely focused on getting good grades and defer to the authority of their fathers rather than their mothers. In situations of conflict between fathers and children, Korean women feel compelled to defend the changes in their children. Mothers see positive changes in the well-​being of their sons and daughters and take pride in their accomplishments. Some husbands are unable to negotiate these shifts in power, blame their wives, and act abusively. Korean women are hesitant to disclose the abuse outside of their social support networks lest it jeopardize their children’s future. 10. When assisting a woman in the aftermath of domestic violence, many shelter workers and other community-​based service providers minimize or ridicule the value of the woman’s faith perspective or supportive religious network . In an article that is often cited, Whipple (1987) noted that many secular therapists and other community-​based professionals do not like to work with very religious clients. Our research brings evidence to bear on this. In interviews with a wide variety of criminal justice, therapeutic, and advocacy workers, we have found this to be generally true—​especially among workers who themselves personally do not espouse religious practices. In part, this is because these workers find it difficult to challenge what they believe to be erroneous religious beliefs. In part, this is because many religious clients do not accept counsel or suggestions from a worker who does not share or appreciate their faith commitments. Relatedly, cultural sensitivity is extremely important. One facet of such sensitivity involves an awareness and general understanding of diverse religious beliefs and practices. To be a culturally competent worker in a shelter or a therapeutic agency, one does not need to endorse or encourage any particular set of religious beliefs or spiritual practices or the lack thereof. However, a culturally competent worker will attempt to ensure that a woman’s spiritual needs are recognized, even as the worker considers how his or her agency can accommodate the particularities of any given woman. Sometimes this will relate to the provision of kosher food, space for certain religious practices, or asking questions about what might be required or needed to fulfill the obligations of religious commitment. Providers of domestic violence services are often unfamiliar with the ethno-​ religious practices of immigrant women, especially Muslim women. They also lack familiarity with the formal and informal ethno-​religious services in their local communities. When a community-​based agency fails to be a safe place for an abused woman to disclose that she is religious, this may inadvertently send her back into the arms of her abuser. When sacred and secular communities work together and, even better, when there is a coordinated effort, a woman’s practical, spiritual, and emotional needs can be met

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by an army of workers best suited to provide them (Sevcik et al., 2015). It does not mean that all workers need to agree on philosophies or strategies, but they need to respect each other and consider the needs of the woman and her children—​including her religious commitments—​as important in the provision of services. 11. Interactions with agents and agencies within the criminal justice system can deter a victim from seeking and receiving much needed practical, and sometimes critical, assistance. In Men Who Batter (Nason-​Clark & Fisher-​Townsend, 2015), we describe our experiences of observing specialized domestic violence court proceedings. Several times we noted that the accused were accompanied in the courtroom by their religious leaders and supportive members of their faith community. Yet not once did we see any of this support for the women who had been victimized—​they sat alone, often in tears, on the opposite side of the room. Three judges commented on this phenomenon as well and noted that they have become very skeptical of clergy support because it is always on behalf of the perpetrator. Although legal systems within both Canada and the United States no longer cling to their historical view of wife abuse as a “private matter” and respond much more effectively than in the past, there remain many deficiencies. Robyn Holder (2008) refers to interaction between women victims of domestic violence and the many criminal justice policies and procedures within which the victims’ situation is adjudged as “craziness.” Related to the views of some therapists and advocates in the community about the difficulties of working with highly religious women, Meyer (2011) found that women often faced stereotypical and victim-​blaming attitudes within the criminal justice system. First, even the terms used to label domestic violence (spousal abuse, family violence, intimate partner violence, and honor violence) are problematic because they often hide or minimize men’s role in such violent and abusive behavior by absenting the gender of the perpetrator, or they refer to some exceptional “cultural practice” that obscures the violence perpetrated against women (Beaman, 2012). Next, throughout the ongoing process of developing contemporary criminal justice responses to the issue of wife abuse, the perspectives and experiences of victims have been underrepresented (Stephens & Sinden, 2000), and indeed, their rights, needs, and preferences have been usurped by the criminal justice response (Ganapathy, 2006). Victims/​survivors support reforms that would give emphasis to therapy as a key element of sentencing and that would allow victims to participate more actively in the sentencing process through providing input during the process (Fleury, 2002; Fondacaro, Jackson, & Luescher, 2002). For religious women, these elements are crucial to facilitating their often stated desire for their abusers to be required to attend batterers’ intervention and to alleviate any unforeseen hardships that may be imposed by the judicial response. According to Hoyle and Sanders (2000), many women do not seek criminal sanctions because they believe these are unlikely to help end the violence. In addition, some women believe that often their “choices” within the criminal justice system are coerced by the circumstances of their lives. For example, African American, immigrant, and aboriginal men are already overrepresented in the criminal justice system. Women from these populations want the violence to stop, but they do not want their husbands incarcerated. Women from marginalized groups desire to be treated as individuals.

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Because of women’s stated desire to be treated as individuals (van Wormer, 2009), this can create an ambivalence toward criminal justice policies and interventions and how the system works for them in their particular lives (Barara, 2007). Searching for Solutions The following are 10 points identified within our program of research that reveal how, and under what circumstances, religious faith and the support of a religious community can be understood as contributing positively to the life of a woman such as Patty. These are ways that religious practices and beliefs enhance a woman’s search for healing and wholeness. 1. Almost all clergy have experience in responding to the needs of abused women, as do most seminary students. In any given week, in small rural communities and large urban centers, sizeable numbers of religious leaders find themselves responding to the needs of abused women, abusive men, families in crisis, and homes in which safety cannot be ensured. In one of our studies involving a large number of evangelical clergy (N = 343; response rate, 70%), we found that 83.2% of pastors had counseled a woman who had an abusive husband or partner during the past year (of which 9.3% had counseled five or more abused women). The majority of our ministerial respondents had also counseled a man who was abusive toward his wife or partner and also a couple for whom violence was common in their relationship. The average pastor in our research spent 16% of his or her workday, or two afternoons per week, providing relationship or marital counseling. Not all of these counseling situations regarding relationships involved abuse, of course, but many did. Through personal face-​to-​face interviews with a large number of pastors (N = 100), we learned that 29% (n = 29) had direct ongoing counseling experience with a woman in their congregation who was a victim of repeated, and severe, physical violence at the hands of her intimate partner. Of these, 22 pastors advised her to leave, 15 had contact with the husband as well, and 5 took her to the women’s shelter as part of their intervention. In all these cases, clergy were quick to condemn the violence, they understood the woman’s need for safety, and they were often involved in helping her to relocate to a safe place. 2. Pastoral involvement in responding to intimate partner violence sends a message to those who seek help—​and to the broader faith community—​ that it is appropriate for a religious woman to seek safety and resources in the aftermath of abuse. To the surprise of many academic researchers and community activists, religious leaders and their congregations have a vital role to play in helping an abused woman of deep spiritual faith find her way after the occurrence of domestic violence. In fact, they can and many do respond to her need for safety and respite. They can and do respond to her spiritual angst with suggestions and advice. Often, they offer an alternative explanation or a broader faith-​based perspective than the one that is contributing to

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the guilt and shame that she is experiencing. Sometimes they remind her of passages in the sacred texts. Sometimes they pray with her using words that she later repeats to herself. Sometimes by their support and encouragement, they directly or inadvertently “offer her permission” to search for additional help—​bringing all of their spiritual credibility to the forefront as they do so. This is extremely powerful for a woman of faith. The words of her pastor or elder may help to dispel the feeling of being abandoned by God or the congregation as she charts her course for a safer future. From our research, we have learned that there are some significant themes in the stories of religious women who have been abused—​stories that have been told to us by the women themselves or by the clergy who have walked alongside them on their healing journey. As part of our desire to make available to a wide audience our research findings, we have highlighted those themes through the use of stained glass on our interactive website (http://​www.theraveproject.com). We have attempted to reproduce in visual form these very personal stories of abuse—​the abuse of women of faith. Our initial purpose was primarily educational—​to help us raise awareness and to train others in responding to religious women impacted by abuse. However, as discussed in Chapter 5, women told us that the visual representation of their collective stories was therapeutic as well. There are six panes to the stained-​glass window, as shown in Figure 2.1. In the beginning, there is peace. Most women start their stories by making it clear that early in the relationship, before it turned abusive, things were good. That is their starting point for telling their story. The first pane of stained glass represents connection and diversity. It reveals the web of relationships that we call family. Importantly for the story of women in our research, in the beginning there is peace. Pane two represents chaos, the result of violence. The interconnections are destroyed. The visual image reveals that life will never be the same again. The stained glass has been shattered, and in its destruction the physical world has been altered (e.g., broken bones and bruised ribs) and something sacred has been broken (e.g., the vows made before God). The third pane of the stained-​glass window shows the aftermath of abuse, where pain and brokenness abound and shame and secrecy rule. Every family member is impacted, whether or not they are the specific target of the angry words or violent fist of the perpetrator. Coming to grips with this truth often prompts women to take action. Women’s narratives reveal that the family never really looks the same after violence strikes: the colors, the patterns, and the connections are all transformed. This does not mean that families are never reunite or that families always experience a period of separation. Many do, whereas others are transformed in place. Some families never

Figure 2.1  The stained-​glass story of abuse.

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move beyond the chaos. But the tape of family life cannot be rewound as if the abuse never occurred. The final three panes of glass show the slow process of rebuilding, gradual renewal, and new beginnings. Many abused religious women share how religious leaders and others in their faith community helped them as they took the jagged pieces of their lives and began to reshape and reconfigure them. Sometimes it was the pastor, a woman’s Bible study leader, or an elder who helped them to see that they had courage, talent, skills, and possibilities. Very vulnerable women can have marked difficulty in identifying—​or believing in—​their own strength and resiliency in the face of obstacles. This is particularly true for women who have been told that they do nothing right, that they are stupid and ugly, and that they are basically good for nothing. Having a trusted person help one to see the lies one has been fed and the cruelty one has experienced is a major step on the road to healing. As women tell the stories of their lives, they talk about how beauty was borne out of brokenness, that their hope was restored, and that renewal became a reality. The dove, with outstretched wings, representing the power of God, their faith, and faith tradition, empowers them in ways they never thought possible. It is important to remember the necessity of women telling their stories repeatedly. As they retell their stories, women begin to make sense of what happened to them. Over time, they construct a narrative of survival that enables them to bring an end to the violence. The elements of time and patience on the part of those who accompany victims are very important in the process. As a woman who is abused hears the stories of other abused women, it affirms the journey she is on and helps her to distinguish between the legitimate struggles that occur in a relationship and the reality of violent acts and abuse. 3. There is a strong women-​helping-​women support network in most faith communities. Women of faith offer one another an amazing amount of social and emotional support, especially in times of crisis. These networks include, but far exceed, friendship networks based on social, cultural, or racial similarities. From the vantage point of church women, acts of kindness and ongoing support are tangible examples of putting their faith into works, being a listening ear to another woman’s cries for help, and being a Good Samaritan. It involves what sociologist Nancy Tatom Ammerman refers to as Golden Rule Christianity, but it involves more than just doing unto others what you would like for them to do unto you. It allows believers to put into practice their beliefs and values—​enabling them to live their religion in the here and now. As we conducted fieldwork among women in congregational life, we learned how easy it was for women to report other women’s acts of kindness and how challenging it was for women to identify their own generosity. To be sure, women were sometimes reluctant to reveal the extent to which they helped others—​a natural desire to be modest and self-​effacing. However, there is more to it than that. Looking out for others is how many women believers claim they live out their faith in community—​it is the essence of their lived religion. It is living as one believes one should, and, as such, it occurs as naturally as breathing. Substantial numbers of church women have helped an abused woman they know by bringing her groceries; babysitting her children; and even offering overnight

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accommodation when the woman was afraid to go home and, in so doing, placing themselves and the abused woman in harm’s way. Working together as a team of women, or as a group of men and women from the congregation, they tell stories of helping abused women move or assisting them with some of the practical challenges of life on their own. Many women of faith singly or together as a group of church women give financial and in-​kind contributions to their local women’s shelter. They paint walls, donate clothes and toiletry items, and bake cookies for the residents on Mother’s Day. Although most of our research has been done in the Christian faith community, two of our studies considered the experiences of recently immigrated Hindu and Muslim women. Here, too, there were some examples of women who reached out to others in their ethno-​religious community and provided practical and emotional support to sisters in the faith who were being abused by their husbands. However, disclosure of domestic violence by individual women within immigrant religious groups is complex, given the pressure on them as members of visible minority groups within Christian majority contexts. In a study of 57 young Hindu adults in Canada (Holtmann & Nason-​Clark, 2011), we discovered that they embraced hybrid identities. Young adult children of Hindu immigrants, either second generation or generation 1.5 (those who arrived in Canada prior to their 12th birthday), understood themselves as Hindu-​Canadian, Indo-​Canadian, or Sri Lankan-​Canadian, depending on their parents’ country of origin. In the attempts to embrace these hybrid ethno-​religious identities, they had developed complex dating strategies. We refer to this as a “don’t tell/​don’t ask” strategy. Many of the female research participants said, “Hindus don’t date.” By saying this, they were acknowledging the culture of their homelands, or “heartlands” according to Beyer (2007b), in which arranged marriages had been the norm. There, Hindu parents had a great deal of control in negotiating suitable unions between sons and daughters. However, several young Hindu-​Canadian women in the study also explained that they were secretly dating. Sometimes their parents were aware of these relationships and sometimes they were not. If they were aware that their sons or daughters were dating, parents did not ask questions. Hindu parents were concerned about the perceptions of their family in the broader Hindu-​Canadian community of which they were a part. It was only in rare cases that Hindu women spoke openly to their parents about dating—​daring to break the silence. This is significant because young adults (of any ethno-​religious background) are at the highest risk for experiencing intimate partner violence. One research participant had helped to organize a forum for Hindu students at her university. The forum brought together university students, student organizations, and Indo-​Canadian community groups in order to learn more about each other and strengthen minority identities. One component of the forum was a session on intimate partner violence among Hindus. The leaders of community organizations were unhappy that this session was part of the forum, indicating that it put Hindus in a bad light. The organizer was frustrated that there was resistance to breaking the silence among the leadership concerning dating violence because she believed that information could help young adults in her community. 4. When clergy condemn the violence women have suffered in their intimate relationships, this is exceptionally powerful for victims—​more powerful than the same words spoken by a social worker or a community-​based advocate.

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Disclosing one’s personal story of intimate partner violence is normally very difficult. So many questions surface in the mind of a woman victim before she tells someone else what has happened. Will she be believed? Will she feel belittled? Or shamed? Will she be held responsible for pushing his buttons? In the context of sharing one’s story in a faith community, or to a religious leader, there may be additional questions, such as the following: What does God expect of me now? Have I forgiven the person who has harmed me? If I had been a more spiritual person, would I have been spared this pain? and Is God trying to teach me a lesson? These are questions that are very important for someone helping an abused religious woman to address directly. However, it is uncommon for someone who has no religious training to be able to answer them in a way that will satisfy the woman who is asking them and thereby reduce her angst and fear. In part, this is why our research has found that workers in community-​based agencies, such as transition houses, find religious clients very difficult. It is not that such women present with more pronounced problems or that the intersections of their lives and personal characteristics create more challenges; rather, it is that they often require some specific religious or cultural competency on the part of the intervention worker. We often understand the need for cultural competency as it relates to immigrant women or racialized minorities, but it can be true for highly religious women as well. For religious women, the language of the spirit is an important—​albeit oft-​overlooked—​component of responding with compassion and best practices to their malaise and the fear that resides deep within them. Some religious leaders are skilled at bringing the beauty and weight of their religious traditions to bear as they condemn violence in intimate partner relationships and abuse in familial contexts. They argue that God does not condone abuse. They state that abuse is always wrong and never part of God’s design for healthy families. These words, spoken by someone who is believed to represent God to the people, can be very powerful. In fact, they can be transformative. They offer healing and hope for women who have chosen to view themselves as followers of a particular spiritual tradition. When a leader says these words to a victim, she hears them as God is on your side. And if God is on her side, who can be against her? (see Romans 8:31). In time, as she meditates on these things, she begins to believe this herself and incorporates this belief into her understanding of her own life and circumstances—​no matter what happens, God is on her side. 5. The needs of her abusive partner will also be considered by her religious leader and the faith community. He will be given support if he is willing to accept such assistance. Repeatedly abused religious women tell us that they long for their abusive partner to receive help. This desire is rooted in the belief that should he receive intervention services, he will want and be able to change his abusive ways. The end result, these women believe, is peace and safety restored to the home. Most abused religious women do not want to separate temporarily, or forever, from their violent, controlling intimate partner. They want the abuse to end. They want to live their lives without the fear or the reality of violent acts. Clergy are a very important, but relatively unknown, resource in responding to men who are, or have been, violent. Although we examine the relationship between clergy

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and abusers in Chapter 3, it is important to recognize here that it is very important to abused religious women that the men who harm them receive intervention services. In fact, locating such services and encouraging their partners to attend is commonplace among the abused women with whom we had contact. In Patricia’s case, she was assessing whether it was good to remind Jim of the pastor’s word of greeting. As she knew only too well, push too hard and Jim would refuse further contact with the pastor: fail to push and Jim might conclude that the congregation and the minister did not care about his needs. 6. Many religious women face tremendous spiritual angst in the aftermath of the abuse they have experienced. When religious leaders and their congregations take seriously these women’s questions and their pain and respond with compassion and grace, it helps the women heal. Many women of deep religious commitment require help in understanding how their religious tradition, and its sacred texts in particular, might be useful in their journey toward wholeness and peace. They believe that their faith makes a difference, but they need help in applying the texts to their particular individual circumstances. In Refuge from Abuse (Nason-​Clark & Kroeger, 2004), we outline some of the ways that a woman might ask her pastor to assist her on the road to healing and wholeness. Catherine Clark Kroeger and I wrote this in direct response to data we collected among abused religious women that revealed that often the women were disappointed with the assistance their spiritual leaders offered them. One of the areas of greatest dissatisfaction related to their desire for spiritual help and the reluctance of clergy to offer it. Thus, we presented some ideas that a woman might bring to her pastor or spiritual mentor (pp. 71–​73). Box 2.1 presents three of these suggestions, although in our book, we outline six. The presentation of this material in Refuge from Abuse was predicated on the idea that religious leaders were experiencing difficulty in understanding how they might harness their faith tradition to help a woman on her journey, not what they might say to answer any particular concern that she would raise. It was their lack of understanding of the nature and context of abuse that was causing most of the reluctance and inability to provide spiritual resources, we argued, not pastoral lack of belief in the faith tradition that they represented. Because their knowledge of abuse was so superficial, lacking depth, they were not able to identify strategies they could employ to probe the depth of their faith tradition to reduce the angst of abused religious women. We believed that if religious leaders were asked directly by victims for spiritual support, elaborating on the questions that plagued their minds, clergy would be able to provide assistance. 7. Clergy who are able to help chart the journey between fear and safety for an abused religious woman go a long way toward assisting her in the beginning to view herself as a survivor. Small steps outlined by a caring person help to dispel the fear. Small steps in a community help people remember. As part of our RAVE Project, we partnered with four teams of workers at four very different geographical locations, as discussed in Chapter 1. At our Charlotte, North Carolina, site, as is also true for the other locations, African American churches have been in the forefront of recognizing the prevalence and severity of domestic violence

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Box 2.1 Topics for Abused Religious Women to Discuss with a Pastor or Spiritual Mentor As a woman seeking help from your pastor, you might ask directly for spiritual guidance. Here are some ways that you might do so, words that you might use when you ask for spiritual direction. Help me to reflect on my need of God . . . • On this earth, Jesus looked to God for strength. Teach me to do likewise. • Reveal to me that our experience of weakness opens the door for God’s help. • When human resources have been exhausted, many men and women naturally look for God to intervene. Teach me to see this in a positive light. • Suggest ways that I can look to God for strength. Help me to condemn abuse using the language of the Spirit . . . • Use the Bible’s language to condemn the violence I have endured. • Use the language of my faith tradition to condemn the violence I have endured. • Use all the resources available within our congregation to condemn the violence I have endured. • Teach me to condemn the violence I have endured. Affirm the use of secular resources . . . • Help me to see that it’s wise to seek counsel from experts, even those who don’t share my Christian faith. • Point me to some specific community resources. • Stay involved in supporting my healing journey even after I get help from some community-​based services.

in their own midst—​inside their churches—​and beyond their fellowships in the communities that their churches serve. Lay pastors, many of whom are women, as well as ordained elders and clergy (some of whom are women) work tirelessly to build bridges between their congregations and the hurting in their communities. Grassroots organizations emerging from these churches, such as Beauty from Ashes (http://​ bfamdraft1.strikingly.com), are built on the notion that it is possible to bridge the gap between the secular and the sacred in matters of abuse. The African American pastors in Charlotte with whom we have worked helped us to understand more fully the intersecting structures of gender, race, and class and how these further complicate the collaborative response to domestic violence. Hill Collins (2000) describes the reality of African American women in contemporary society as a matrix of domination. The intersection of multiple structural inequalities has material consequences that prevent African American women from leaving

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violent relationships (Crenshaw, 1994). Within the African American population, churches have traditionally played a central role in the lives of many women and also men. Although the influence of institutional Christianity among African Americans may be waning (Hill Collins, 2000), Black women have engaged in what Townsend-​ Gilkes (2001, pp. 107–​108) refers to as dual-​sex politics within a culture of conflict. Although men continue to dominate official positions of leadership in Black churches, women have a variety of roles in which they exercise parallel leadership and authority. In these leadership roles, women consistently use the language of the Christian tradition to voice their concerns for social change. The distinct shape of religious patriarchy in these churches has been influenced by the persistent tradition of conflict that Black women maintain in the service of justice. This contextualization of the experiences of African American female pastors makes their perspectives among the RAVE Project resources particularly significant. The coordinator for the Charlotte team, Julie, and her father, a pastor from a mainline denomination, are both survivors of domestic violence. The story of their victimization illustrates that violence can happen to anyone and impacts the entire family. As a professional, Julie has worked for many years as an advocate in the domestic violence field. Her religious background, her identity as a survivor, and her professional connections enabled her to open doors for our RAVE Project team in a variety of sectors in Charlotte. The work of bridge-​building in any particular local context often depends on a few key individuals who, like Julie, manage multiple identities. 8. Many religious women drop hints about difficulties in their family life to others in the faith community, leaders and other believers alike. Whether those hints lead to action on the part of others often relates to awareness training or personal experience related to abuse. It is very powerful when a woman’s own words lead a member of the “church family” to ask about her safety or emotional well-​being. Frequently, women who are abused do not name abuse directly or categorize the controlling and violent acts they have endured as coming under its auspices. For sure, to label behavior that one has experienced as abusive is to give it a name. Most abused women, and perhaps especially abused religious women, are reluctant to call their experiences abusive, their intimate partner a batterer, and themselves a battered wife. Because they often diminish their abusive experiences to themselves, it is not surprising that they are loathe to name them to others, especially religious leaders who are viewed as God’s representatives. In part, this is tied to the unrealistic image of the “happy Christian family” (Nason-​Clark, 1997) and the politics surrounding family values that seem to be so prominent in many large conservative church circles (Kroeger, Nason-​Clark, & Fisher-​Townsend, 2008). However, it is also tied to notions of the religious life and the impact that religious awakening might, indeed should, demonstrate in every area of life, including intimate and family relationships. Women view abuse as their failure in the relationship, and pastors view it as their failure in marriage or relationship counseling. Rarely do abusers view it as their responsibility. Given this context, telling one’s story and revealing how much of it to tell and to whom is a central part of the experience of all women, and most certainly religious women, who have been battered (Nason-​Clark & Kroeger, 2004). Our data certainly reveal that when women are forthright about the violence they have endured, the

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response of religious communities and their leaders is swift and most often appropriate. However, this is not usually how the story of an abused religious woman is disclosed. She “tests the waters” so to speak—​a Biblical reference to the journey of the children of Israel in the Old Testament. If her clouded reference to her safety, her fear, or her disappointment in family life is heard by another sister in the faith or a faith leader, the woman will be asked more questions. That is why in one of our studies, women in focus groups talked about the importance of being a listening ear, later defined as someone whose ears are bigger than his or her mouth. Thus, knowing when and how to ask the right questions of a woman who has disclosed part of her story is very important, although its importance is often underestimated. Questions might include the following: Are you ever frightened of your partner’s anger? Have you ever had reason to leave your home, with your children, as a result of your husband’s words or actions? Do you feel like you are walking on eggshells all the time? and Do you feel like you are asked to do a lot of forgiving in your intimate relationship? Identifying abusive behavior and helping women to identify it in their own lives is a critical role that the faith community can and does play in the lives of all women, but especially abused women. As discussed later in this book, this might include highlighting the issue of abuse within premarital counseling sessions, hanging a poster in the pastoral study that states “Christian love should never hurt,” placing brochures about abuse (including local resources) in the stalls of the church restrooms, or having one service a year that highlights the issue (with local community-​based agency workers invited to participate). In one of our early studies, it was revealed that many women (not just those who had experienced abuse in their intimate relationships) were very disappointed with the paucity of awareness training concerning domestic violence in the congregational setting. Throughout the years, we have been involved in this kind of training often—​ for denominations, clergy gatherings, local coordinated initiatives, and professional continuing education credits. It is critical to raise awareness in a variety of congregational contexts and to do so within various space locations within the facilities where the congregation meets. Restrooms are one of the safest places to for a person to pick up a brochure because it is likely that no one will see the person read it or take it. Mentioning abused women within a prayer in a public context indicates that the congregation takes this issue seriously. It invites a woman to call the pastor if ever this becomes her story. Talking about healthy intimate relationships in youth group sets the stage for conversations among young women and men as they explore what their faith and their friendships mean to them. Highlighting elder abuse in a seniors’ group is another way to let the entire age spectrum of the church family know that as a community, it speaks out against violence in its myriad forms and offers compassionate responses framed by best practices to respond to those so impacted. 9. Women of faith are not a uniform group—​there are vast differences based on social class, ethnicity, labor force participation, region of the country where they reside, and other personal and cultural factors. When violence strikes the religious home, some women are more vulnerable than others. One such group of very vulnerable women includes those who, like Patricia in the opening story, are not currently working for pay in the labor market. As such, they are

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often isolated at home, with children, without transportation, and with very limited (or no) access to financial resources. They feel like they are one husband away from poverty. So they choose financial stability over their own personal safety and emotional health. Women who live in rural areas can be even more isolated, as can women who are abused by same-​sex partners. Also, climate impacts a woman’s freedom of movement—​for example, think about trying to escape a violent home in northern Minnesota in the dead of winter. In fact, I  (Nancy) interviewed a clergy wife who had lived in Minnesota during the early years of her marriage to a physically violent pastor–​partner. At one point, she talked about placing the children on a sled and dragging them to the next door neighbors, who lived almost a mile down the road. She was searching for help and believed she could wait no longer. Abused wives of male religious leaders are an especially vulnerable group, although they rarely are identified as such. During the past 25 years, through my research activities and especially through my speaking engagements, I have met many clergy wives who were frightened of their husband’s anger and reported that they had no one to whom they could turn. Considered a leader in many congregations in her own right, the partner of a pastor would not be able to share openly with other women in congregational life if she was abused. If she lived in a manse or other church-​owned property, reporting the violence of her husband might mean that they both would be asked to leave. Whereas some denominational groups have district superintendents, bishops, or other leaders to whom a pastor gives account, some megachurches or other unaffiliated congregations have no outside accountability structures at all. Abused women in these contexts, whether or not they are married to the ordained leader or an elder, have few options apart from secular resources of help. In fact, relatively recently, I was contacted by a young woman who had been threatened and abused by her missionary-​ worker husband. When she sought help “in the field” and then later back in Canada at home base, her needs were never taken very seriously; she was reminded of her husband’s influence and the damage to their past ministry endeavors if she were to speak out too loudly. She was told that it was better to sweep it under the carpet—​the proverbial church carpet—​than risk reputational disaster for the denomination and its overseas work. At our four locations sites for the development of the RAVE Project—​Columbia (Missouri), Charlotte (North Carolina), Eugene (Oregon), and Calgary (Alberta, Canada)—​we noted some particular vulnerabilities and strengths for women in each of the regions. For example, in Columbia, known as America’s Heartland, there were several domestic violence advocates who themselves were women of deep religious commitment. As a result, when women of any faith perspective sought help in one of the shelters there, they would have access to faith-​enriched resources developed by one of the workers or in partnership between the shelter and a local congregation. In focus groups, we spoke of these interesting partnerships and were never given any reason to believe that women of no expressed faith, or religious women, were ever pressured into using the sacred resources that had been developed. They were simply part of the toolkit available to meet the needs of a wide group of women seeking help in the aftermath of domestic violence. In Calgary, a multicultural city of slightly more than 1 million inhabitants, there were many opportunities for collaboration and cooperation between faith-​based, or faith-​enriched, workers and others in community contexts and also for partnerships between agencies and houses of worship. In our book, Overcoming Conflicting

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Loyalties:  Intimate Partner Violence, Community Resources and Faith (Sevcik et  al., 2015), we tell the story of the development of FaithLink, a unique resource that taps into both sacral and secular knowledge about domestic and sexual violence and attempts to provide a wide array of resources to those impacted by it. In Calgary, the organization HomeFront is a key resource for bringing many agencies together, and FaithLink is able to bring religious leaders to the collaborative table. What this means for an individual abused religious woman is that there is a level of coordination between the various service providers, a mutual respect, and a desire to see her needs—​including her religious needs—​met in her life after abuse. This has been difficult to sustain at the local level, although the interest in doing so does not appear to have waned. As I have argued elsewhere, at the practical level, sustaining these programs requires adequate fiscal resources, but these are usually trumped by whether or not there are highly skilled, personable religious leaders who are able and willing to be co-​partners in efforts to reduce intimate partner violence and to respond with best practices to its victims and perpetrators. Thus, often, as in the Calgary case with FaithLink, religious leaders become overtaxed after they are identified at the local level with a particular human need (in this case, physical and sexual violence), and their great efforts cannot be sustained over the long term. When new people come to the table to replace them, they do not have the advantage of the years of prior learning and there is a general frustration with the secular workers, in particular, that they are having to cover old ground again, but with folk who are less receptive to the message or the strategies. Throughout the years, HomeFront has been a phenomenal success, whereas FaithLink has struggled for financial resources and ongoing leadership to keep it afloat. In Charlotte, as noted previously, the support from the African American churches for their abused religious sisters appeared to be tremendous but was overwhelmed by the high level of need. However, it was usually women helping women: Sometimes the women doing the helping were ordained clergy, but more often they were lay pastors who had big hearts, were committed to the faith, often had their own personal story of abuse, but did not have much power to alter circumstances within or beyond the congregational setting. They were doing ministry work in addition to fulfilling their own demanding family and employment responsibilities. Their family responsibilities often extended to grandchildren, as well as their own elderly parents, in addition to occasional assistance with wayward or difficult nieces and nephews. Often, these responsibilities included financial needs as well. However, it would be inaccurate to paint a picture that suggested that most African American women reached out only to their sisters who were financially struggling. From our contact with women in Charlotte, it became clear that well-​off African American women, or those with high-​ paying professional careers, were expected by their extended families and their congregations to be especially generous with their time and with their paychecks—​and most often, they were. In Eugene, Oregon, we had many opportunities to interact with a women’s shelter, an advocacy agency called Womenspace, and a domestic violence coalition that was community-​based and very active in the region. Eugene was also home to a vast suite of services for families impacted by domestic violence under the umbrella of an agency called CAFA, known historically as Christians Addressing Family Abuse, and later renamed Christians as Family Advocates. It offered a batterers’ intervention program that included approximately 200 men each week who attended groups at its

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facility. This agency was known throughout the region as being faith-​based, but it was praised primarily for its highly trained staff and excellent partnership in the coordinated community response to domestic violence. Interestingly, in Eugene, which is located in a highly secular area of the northwest United States, there was much praise and very little scorn for the role of a faith-​based batterer intervention program—​one that had outperformed other secular alternatives in the area. Many women sought services for themselves or for their partners (who were often, but not always, court-​ mandated) or their children at CAFA. What they received in return was professionally credentialed staff offering state-​certified services. Although there was ample evidence in this region of the coordinated community response at the agency or worker level, including faith-​based workers at CAFA, religious leaders seemed to have opted out of any specific role for themselves. Although sometimes they referred parishioners to CAFA, as clergy they were not engaged in any coordinated community efforts, perhaps believing that the need for spiritually enhanced counsel was already being met by the staff at a faith-​based agency. It is also possible that some pastors might have harbored resentment about the success of these faith-​based efforts. From the viewpoint of those who worked at CAFA, including the executive director, the motivation to provide services was linked to the children. “We do it for the children,” she was oft heard saying at staff meetings or in the office. 10. For immigrant women who are religious, personal religious practices such as prayer, religious dress and jewelry, and dietary restrictions are often intertwined with ethnic practices, and such women rarely make distinctions between the two. As noted previously, the immigration process is long and challenging and involves much uncertainty about the future. Families have immigrated with the goal of creating a better life for themselves. As a consequence, some immigrant women are single-​ parenting their children who are in school or university while their husbands continue to work in the countries of origin. The couples’ prolonged periods of separation, the women’s increased autonomy in the new context, and the husbands’ lowered social status in their adopted country create tensions within marriages. In our research, we found that immigrant evangelical Protestant churches frequently provide a supportive environment for new immigrant families, but many Catholic churches do not. Immigrant women who experience abuse report that the churches are sources of great social support. On the other hand, for immigrant women who are Muslim, mosques are not viewed as places to locate social support. Rather, their informal networks, often involving other Muslim women, provide assistance, as do the cultural associations. For Muslim women living in regions in which their numbers do not represent a critical mass, confidentiality in their own ethno-​religious communities cannot be guaranteed and anonymity is not possible. In this context, culturally competent workers based in community agencies seem to offer the best alternative for meeting the needs of abused immigrant women who are religious. Although our research during approximately the past 25  years on the lives of abused religious women has focused primarily on women within the Christian tradition, there is compelling evidence from two of our studies on recently immigrated women and those who are 1.5-​or second-​generation immigrants that the processes at work in their religious lives are similar in many respects to those of

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the Christian cohorts (Holtmann & Nason-​Clark, 2011; Nason-​Clark & Holtmann, 2013b). Often, their religious leaders do not hear their calls for help in the aftermath of intimate partner violence, or they implore the women to try harder to create peace within the home—​as part of their religious or ethno-​religious responsibilities. There is talk of a cultural clash between their religious identities and their experiences lived out in a secular context. The growing literature on domestic violence in minority communities within a majority context reveals that the shame and the silence may be more profound than those for their native-​born sisters (Sevcik et al., 2015). This is surely exacerbated when their faith tradition also sets them apart from the cultural majority. Patterns of domestic violence that began elsewhere follow immigrant families to their new society, but a host society such as Canada offers new opportunities for seeking safety. For example, a Muslim woman from Cathy’s research, who was originally from Uzbekistan, stated that her husband’s physical violence began soon after they married. Her mother and sisters urged her to leave him, but she feared the social stigma that accompanied divorced women in her country. Along with their three young children, the Muslim family came to Canada as refugees. Her husband found work in a remote coastal village. The young mother and her children were isolated in their apartment with few opportunities for learning English or meeting other Muslim families. The violence escalated, and a fourth child was born. Fortunately, the family moved to a nearby city and the mother found out about programs for immigrants at the local YMCA. The programs included child care, and the young Muslim mother and her children became known to the settlement workers. One day, the oldest daughter arrived at the YMCA, breathless from running and crying. She handed a staff member a piece of paper with the family’s address written on it and pleaded for help—​her mother was being badly beaten by her father. A settlement worker called the local social worker, and together they went with the girl to her family’s apartment. By the time they arrived, the father was gone. They helped the young Muslim mother pack up their meager belongings and took her and the children to the local shelter. At the time of the research, the Muslim mother was living with her children in subsidized housing, enrolled in advanced language classes, volunteering at a local nursing home, and taking driving lessons. She was proud that her three older children were doing well in school, and her youngest was in day care. Her eldest daughter, then 13 years old, was quick to pick up the English language and appreciated the support of the public service workers—​something unavailable in the country in which she was born. She had assumed responsibility beyond her years. Immigration and exposure to family violence had forced her to mature quickly and utilize the opportunities available in Canada to get help for her mother in bringing an end to violence in her family. S U R VIVOR S AND A WORD ABOUT THE C H I L D R E N

We have never developed a project that explored from a child’s or adolescent’s viewpoint the impact of intimate partner violence on those who witness or experience abuse in their childhood home. However, we have learned much about its short-​and long-​term consequences over the years by working in a collaborative manner with

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criminal justice, advocacy, therapeutic, and religious professionals. Moreover, in our varied research projects with adults impacted by abuse, whether as perpetrator or victim, there are many references to the children in their lives. Often, mention of the children brings tears to the eyes, angst to the facial expression, and anxiety to the surface. It is no exaggeration to say that children suffer immensely where abuse abounds. What have we learned from our research program in terms of the impact of intimate partner violence on children? The impact can come right at the beginning, even before birth. In our book Refuge from Abuse (Nason-​Clark & Kroeger, 2004), we tell the story of a woman we call Brenda, who fled her apartment, just before Christmas, as her inebriated boyfriend was attacking her. In the fifth month of her first pregnancy, she was frightened for the safety of her unborn child and frightened for herself. Amid the snow and the shoppers, she found herself standing on a street corner, with one shoe missing, tears streaming down her face. Ruth, a woman pastor, stumbled upon her and stopped to ask if she could be of assistance. Brenda had lost her shoe as she ran from her kitchen down the stairs to the outdoors, to save her own life and to protect the baby inside her. She kept running until she arrived at the main street of the small city in which she lived. Within the first few minutes of meeting each other, Brenda asked Ruth if she could purchase a pair of sunglasses for her so that her pain and despair would be hidden from view. She did not want anyone to see a pregnant woman looking like her. Protecting their children and hiding the pain and despair created by abuse often comingle in the lives of abused women. Women with small children in the home sometimes disclosed how they would have a code word or phrase for their son or daughter that meant run quickly to the bathroom and lock the door. One woman who lived in a rural area would shout, “Go up to grandma’s and get some eggs!” The child was told that when she heard her mother say these words, she was to drop everything and run as fast as she could up the lane to where her grandparent’s farmhouse was located. Sometimes women mentioned taking their children to a friend’s overnight or needing child care for their son or daughter when they sought help from a community agency or advice from a lawyer or a therapist. The first stop for assistance was often the home of another woman of faith. Churchwomen themselves mentioned the variety of ways that they believed the gendered network of support operated within congregational life—​a network that was accustomed to reaching out to women during their time of need, and often this included reaching out to their children as well. We discuss this more fully in Chapter 4, in which we consider congregational life. Because the impact on children was not the focus of our work, we did not ask women directly about this. Many abused women, however, in our contact with them in our studies or in the plethora of workshops or training venues throughout the years, mentioned their belief that if the children had been harmed, they would have left their abuser earlier. This erroneous belief that children are only harmed if they are directly the victims of the aggression is a very important one for churches to challenge because there is ample evidence that children are indeed impacted when abuse strikes at home (Callaghan, Alexander, Sixsmith, & Fellin, 2015; Edleson et al., 2007; Juan, Washington, & Kurlychek, 2017).

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C O N CL US ION

From the Victim’s Perspective We began the chapter with Patty’s story, ending it where she called the pastor for help. In her case, the pastor was untrained in issues of abuse but open to work together with Patty to explore the variety of resources available in their local area. He identified correctly that Patty had both practical needs and spiritual questions. He named her safety—​and that of her children—​as the top priority for their initial meetings. From Patty’s viewpoint, the pastor listened intently to her story and affirmed her need of help and respite. He asked many questions, some of which caused her to cry and feel very sad. Between meetings with the pastor, she thought a lot about what she wanted to tell him the next time they met. She began to write both the questions and her answers down on paper and kept them in the middle of her Bible, where she knew Jim would never look. She was at first taken aback when the pastor asked if he could pray with her before she left his office at the end of the first visit. She expected that he would ask God to give her a forgiving spirit and to mend her broken heart. But the pastor prayed that God would give her strength to see her options, to feel courage in her search for safety for herself and the children, and give her a renewed understanding that she did not face this mountain all by herself. What a relief! Over the next several weeks, she often repeated words from the pastor’s prayer. She looked up the story of Hagar that the pastor had mentioned and could see for the first time that God was there in the midst of her abuse: She had not been abandoned. Things were far from easy. The pastor had warned her of this. But she began to take advantage of some of his referral suggestions even as he asked her to help him understand more fully the pain and despair of violence. Together, they identified several print and web resources that they utilized during their meetings. On Sundays, she noticed that the pastor went out of his way to be especially friendly, but he never asked any questions in front of others that would suggest that she had sought his help. Over time, she was encouraged by the pastor to disclose to some other women in the church her need of emotional support. The pastor did not take on her problems or dispense much advice or minimize what she had suffered or the road ahead. To be sure, he did not understand too much about why these things were happening or what could be done to curb them. But he listened. He made some referral suggestions. And he left the decision-​making to her alone. She felt heard and empowered. She did not feel pressured to go in a particular direction. The road ahead was long, but she had a pastor who was willing to walk alongside her when the going got rough. From the Pastor’s Perspective For pastors who feel inadequately prepared to respond to the needs of victims (and that is most pastors), several actions can be helpful in order to respond appropriately and effectively to the needs of a battered woman. First, pastors need to understand what domestic violence is and how it can occur within a community of faith. Because domestic violence is often hidden in faith communities, pastors may be unaware of the pervasiveness of the problem, and they may not understand the role of power and

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control. Basic data about domestic violence can help pastors realize the extent of the problem and the importance of being prepared to address the problem and respond to victims. Second, pastors need to know what resources are available in the community and how to make referrals. Seminary students expressed great fear at the thought of responding to victims precisely because they did not know how to be part of a coordinated response. If a religious woman is going to find safety when she approaches her pastor for help, it is essential that the pastor be part of the wider response. Third, pastors need to be affirmed in their role of providing spiritual guidance for victims during the process of finding help and healing. The provision of effective spiritual counsel may be the difference between a victim deciding to return to the violent home (perhaps in a belief that her faith will protect her or that she is being faithful to her vows) or making the courageous decision to leave the abusive relationship. Having her pastor, as trusted spiritual counselor, affirm the woman’s decision to leave can be an important motivator. Fourth, pastors need resources for the long-​term process of healing. When a victim of domestic violence approaches a pastor for help, it should lead to more than a short-​term response. Pastors will need a variety of resources as they seek to minister to the victim, her family, and others who are affected by the violence. Relationships will be shattered and changed, and through the long-​term process of reassembling the pieces of those shattered relationships in new ways, the pastor will be called upon for spiritual guidance and direction. From the Advocate’s Perspective There are several aspects of Patty’s story that are cause for concern from the perspective of an advocate. Like many victims of domestic violence, Patty has primary responsibility for young children. In addition to the deliberate tactics of control employed by her abusive husband, caring for young children full-​time at home has isolated Patty. Her pastor’s suggestion of connecting to other women in the church is a good one because friendships with women can help to ease her emotional dependence on her husband and provide support as she cares for her children in a violent context. The collective action of women has been the cornerstone of the shelter movement (Profitt, 2000). Patty is aware of her husband’s reaction to her dual roles as mother and wife. She needs to understand that this reaction is his problem, rooted in his own insecurity, and that she cannot control his violence through her own actions. Her priorities are to focus on her safety and that of her children. Her husband’s violent actions against her are not only wrong but also illegal. Caring friends and professional supporters can also gently suggest to Patty the impact that witnessing abuse has on her children. Another contributing factor to Patty’s isolation is her economic dependence on her husband. Patty’s supporters can point out the opportunities that using her professional credentials in paid employment will provide for her family. Re-​entering the workforce will not be easy, but it can give Patty more options as she seeks to do what is best for her children in the long term. Patty and her supporters need to be aware that when her husband perceives an increase in her autonomy or self-​confidence, he will try to exert greater control and the abuse will likely escalate. Doing the right thing for herself and her children will make the situation worse in the short term. Patty’s resolve to end the violence in her marriage will test her Christian understanding of love and forgiveness. When things

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get worse, Patty, like so many women who have become dependent on their abusers, will doubt herself and be tempted to think that she is incapable of change or she might minimize the consequences of her husband’s violence. Contemporary stories from women of faith who have overcome violent marriages, such as those of the women included in the documentary “I Believe You:  Faith’s Response to Intimate Partner Violence” (http://​www.divacommunications.com/​programs/​i-​believe-​you), can help strengthen Patty’s resolve to do the right thing. From the Criminal Justice Perspective A coordinated community response, similar to the one modeled in Calgary with the involvement of HomeFront and FaithLink, would go a long way to alleviating the concerns of religious women victim/​survivors interacting with the criminal justice system. Related to this coordinated response is the need for effective communication between all parties. In examining the perspectives of abused women, criminal justice officials, and community service providers, Van Hightower and Gorton (2002) found that all parties experienced a disjuncture in communication. Survivors expressed concerns about inadequate protection, discourteous treatment, and insufficient information about their legal options. Certainly, beginning with the time the 911 call is made and police arrive on the scene, increased communication and support are necessary. The core of a coordinated community response is victim safety, but each model does recognize the need for a wide variety of community input—​including that of religious organizations. For religious women, the need to integrate religious resources into the community response is critical. Pastors can walk alongside victims as they make their way through the vagaries of the criminal justice system; faith-​based community workers can offer religiously informed resources and assistance; faith-​enriched workers, although not working in specifically faith-​based agencies, can also be there as a centered guidepost when women are in need. As Anne Ganley (n.d.) states, “No one institution can do it alone.” N O TES

1. Patty’s story is a composite based on our fieldwork; it is linked specifically to five interviews. 2. Feminist analysis of violence against women generally begins with the concept of patriarchy—​“the process of politically differentiating the female from the male” (Eisenstein, 1984, p.  90)—​and the social institutions that help to maintain it (MacKinnon, 1989). Its analysis centers on the impact of rigid gender roles in a male-​ dominated culture (Dobash & Dobash, 1979) that constrains and shapes the individual lives of men and women in a broader cultural context. The oft-​quoted phrase “the personal is political” highlights the link between individual lives and socially constructed realities. 3. At this point, Patricia has yet to hear the struggles of other women who have experienced abusive, controlling husbands, just like hers. Chapters 4 and 6 explore the power of women’s stories in-​depth.

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4. In a multifaith workshop in which Nason-​Clark participated, held outside Boston, several Muslim women who provided services to women within their tradition remarked that their religious leaders, including the imam, were not very open to referrals of abused women outside of the faith community. Similarly, at a conference in Washington, DC, where leaders and researchers within the Seventh Day Adventist tradition were present, reluctance to refer parishioners to secular therapists was raised in private conversations with Nason-​Clark. In Calgary, this was also expressed by several domestic violence activists who were working within the Jewish and Ismaili communities, respectively. 5. Some Catholic progressives believe that Pope Francis had “no right” to speak out recently on domestic violence because he does not support women’s ordination. It is important to remember that ideological issues are not reserved only for those on one end of the spectrum:  This issue relates to those on the left as well. The Pontifical Council for Culture of the Catholic Church hosted a plenary assembly on the theme of “Women’s Cultures” on February 4–​7, 2015, in Rome, Italy. During the assembly, Pope Francis condemned domestic violence, saying, “Although it is a symbol of life, the female body is unfortunately not rarely attacked and disfigured, even by those who should be its protector and life companion” (Pullella, 2015). The Pope spoke out after having met with an Italian woman who underwent many operations after her boyfriend threw acid in her face to punish her because she wanted to leave him. 6. For a list of resources for responding to clients from diverse religious and ethnic groups, see Web-​Based Resources.

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Abusers

S C OT T’ S  ST ORY

Scott Landers closed the kitchen door that separated his house from the garage and jumped down the few steps before landing inches away from his car door. He opened it quickly, slipped in, and activated the remote that controlled the opening of the garage door. He was in a bit of a rush, but being a few minutes late never bothered him too much—​especially when he was off to a meeting that he would just as soon miss. Tonight was Thursday, and that meant going to the Overcomers Group, the batterer intervention program that he was forced to attend. Well, he was not really forced at all, if he was honest with himself. He was encouraged to be there—​ with the threat that Karen might leave him temporarily, or for good, if he broke his promise to go. As he drove through the yellow—​turning red—​light at the entrance to his subdivision, something resembling a smile crossed his face. “No,” he thought to himself, “I was not mandated to attend the group at all, not like those poor suckers who had a judge breathing down their necks.” He had no record, no probation officer, no court appearances, and no fines. Just one 911 call. But that was one too many. “If only Karen had been reasonable,” he said aloud to himself, “if only she hadn’t called the cops.” As he found a place to park, Scott could see a couple of other men rushing toward the entrance to the building. Another younger man was locking his bike. And yet another was arriving by taxi. By the time he climbed the stairs to the second story where the group met, the facilitators had welcomed a new man who was joining the group and various men were starting to speak about their week, taking turns, and saying things that were now familiar to him. Scott’s mind wandered to what he might say,

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and then he was brought back to the present when Joyce, the leader, smiled at him in recognition of his arrival. Scott sat next to a man who was telling the group about the supervised visit he had with his young daughter earlier in the week, and the man before him boasted that he had been clean and sober for 4 months. When it was Scott’s turn, he said that he was fine, work was stressful, but that was it. His words were clipped, and almost everyone present understood that Scott was still far from accepting any responsibility for the harm he had brought to his wife and children. He listened respectfully as the facilitators talked, and he participated when asked a question, but Scott was not engaged with the program in any meaningful way, despite the fact that he had been attending the group meetings for several months. Scott had a university degree and was employed in a middle management position in sales. He grew up in a highly religious family; his father had been the pastor of a small church. His upbringing had been strict, and Scott found that he often disagreed with his wife’s parenting, which he viewed as being far too lenient. Karen was a physiotherapist, and she worked part-​time to accommodate Scott’s frequent work travels and the needs of their four children. During the course of their 10-​year relationship, there had been many rocky times. Scott believed that Karen should work full-​time so that they would have more money, but then again, he was worried that if she pursued her career too vigorously, she might find that she could afford to support herself and the children without him. He had no patience when Karen asked him to help around the house, something he believed was beneath him. Life was not turning out the way he had hoped it would: There seemed to be little time to do the things he wanted to do and too many people expecting things of him. There were times when he blamed God for all his troubles, but most of the time he placed the blame on Karen. If she would only do as he asked, things would run smoothly. This was the mantra he recited to himself often. Once when he made a comment about this in group, there were smirks and chuckles from some of the other men and one African American man shouted out, “Hey bro, isn’t that what we all want?” At that, the group erupted in laughter until the facilitators quickly brought it back under control. Scott felt a bit humiliated and vowed never to share too much again with the other men. Joyce spoke to him privately after that group—​she was never one to let an opportunity pass by. She asked Scott to clarify for her exactly what he meant by his words. She asked him to talk about why he felt things should always go according to his plans and wishes. Before long, Scott found himself saying things to Joyce that came right from his heart, such as “She is not behaving like a good Christian wife,” “Karen should always be forgiving,” “Karen needs to learn who is boss,” and the clincher, “My wife had no right to call the police—​I just pushed her around a little and gave her a couple of slaps. Nothing to get all excited about. God knows, I was holding back. Sometimes she just pushes my buttons.” Her words in response were measured, but she was very firm. “Scott,” she said looking right into his eyes, “God has not given you the right to treat your wife this way. Karen was fully justified in calling the police.” Then she paused for emphasis, “We are here to help you Scott, when you are ready to change some of your thinking and some of your behavior.” Joyce’s words caught Scott off guard. He smirked and said under his breath, “All you women are alike. I have had enough of this.” He looked at his watch, regained his composure, and said to her, “I really need to get going. I still have some e-​mails from work

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that I need to answer before it’s time to go to bed.” With that, he turned toward the door and as he did, he heard Joyce say in a chipper voice, “See you next week Scott.” As he drove home, Scott rehearsed in his mind the first time he and Karen had sought the pastor’s help. He was sure that the senior minister would side with him and his understanding of the Scriptures and would chide Karen for refusing to submit to his wishes. When the meeting did not go as Scott had hoped, he stopped going to church for a while and encouraged Karen to do likewise. Then he insisted that they start going to a “Bible believing” church. But they were never able to find one that had a pastor Scott trusted. All of this reflecting began to affect Scott’s mood state so that by the time he arrived home after group, he was in particularly foul humor. Karen was very hopeful that attending the Overcomers Group would help Scott to see the error of his ways and that peace would be restored to their household. Sometimes she felt like he was really trying, but tonight was further evidence that things were not changing—​at least not very quickly. As we have learned from our ongoing research program, working with men who batter is very difficult. It is difficult for criminal justice workers, such as police, probation, and parole officers. It is also very difficult for those involved in intervention services such as batterer programs. Working with a man who is deeply committed to his faith or entrenched in certain religious beliefs brings a different dimension to these challenges, which we explore in more depth in this chapter. Will Scott complete the 52-​week program and graduate from it? Will Karen be able to experience Scott as someone who has changed his abusive ways? Will the life-​stability factors that Scott enjoys (e.g., a good education, permanent employment, and an intact family) be able to sustain him through the difficult times and help him to eventually become abuse-​ free? And will Scott ever be able to find a pastor who earns his trust so that his faulty religious beliefs can be examined in light of the tradition he claims to follow? Our focus in this chapter is on how religious beliefs and practices intersect with and impact the experience of controlling, abusive behavior directed toward one or more intimate partners (and experienced by their children as well). By focusing on data collected over many years and from several different projects, we examine some of the contours of how men of faith talk about their experience of interacting with the criminal justice system and other intervention services in the aftermath of their own violence toward an intimate partner. We discuss issues of substance abuse, childhood vulnerability, entitlement, and resiliency in the face of obstacles. We consider explicitly spiritual dimensions to factors such as guilt, remorse, uncertainty, forgiveness, and accountability in the aftermath of abuse. We are very interested in the intersecting points of the life of a man who has been (or still is) abusive and the resources within and beyond the community of faith available to walk alongside him. We believe it is important to be mindful of the explicitly religious journey of some men who batter, and so we explore aspects of his lived religion and the unique role that pastors and other religious leaders and faith-​enriched workers can play in calling him to religious accountability and change. U N DER STA NDING THE  CHALLE NGE S

Scott’s story highlights many of the central features of the lives of religious men who act in an abusive way. His early childhood revolved around the church, and although

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currently his attendance is sporadic, Scott is still influenced greatly in his thinking by religious beliefs—​even if he is misguided in how he understands or applies them. It is central that someone with spiritual credentials, or religious authority, has an opportunity to challenge him on these. However, this will not be easy because Scott dismisses those with whom he disagrees. From his perspective, anyone who does not interpret the Scriptures the way he does is suspect. Because Scott was never mandated by the criminal justice system to attend a batterer intervention program, his journey toward changed thinking and changed behavior will be slightly different from those of other men in a program for whom attendance is part of their court sentencing. There are both positive and negative features to this. Scott can stop attending at any time, and there is no helping professional who has the authority or mandate to call him out on his failure to complete the program. However, the voluntary nature of his attendance can be harnessed as an indication of a willingness to change or a long-​term commitment to the marital relationship. Before we examine the challenges facing abusive men who themselves are religiously committed, we need to consider in more detail various elements of Scott’s story. Scott grew up in a rather harsh family environment in which he was often physically punished for behavior his parents deemed inappropriate. They called his behavior “sin” or “willful disobedience.” Although his mother was not physically battered by Scott’s father, she was constantly made to feel as if she was stupid and in need of regular correction. Scott’s father was an assertive man who instilled fear in his children. Scott wanted to do the same but was thwarted in his attempts because Karen would not support such a way of living as a family. She, too, had grown up in a religious household, but her parents were very loving toward each other and the children. The dynamics of Scott’s family—​and her experience of his parents’ way of treating each other—​made Karen cringe. As a young boy, Scott was very determined; as a result, he turned his attention to doing well in school and well in sports. He and Karen met while they were in university and married quite soon thereafter. In fact, Scott reported that had he known Karen better, he would not have married her. This was coded language for his frustration that she did not accept his way of thinking about marriage and the power dynamics between husband and wife. He sometimes claimed that they were “unequally yoked,” a Biblical reference that some evangelical Christians interpret as referring to differences between a husband and a wife as a result of one being a believer and the other a non-​believer. Although Scott did not claim that Karen was outside the faith, he did not believe she was living as a Christian should: Calling 911 was all the evidence Scott needed to demonstrate that Karen was weak in the faith. Scott’s grandparents were not particularly religious people, and he had learned as a teenager that his father had witnessed on several occasions his grandmother being subjected to the fists of his inebriated grandfather. Scott’s parents believed that religious faith made family life so much better, and they pointed to the grandparents as proof. Like most other men in a batterer intervention program, Scott is rather angry about having to attend. He believes he is not like the other men in the program—​men who have been mandated by the courts to attend a state-​certified program as a result of their violent behavior. He does not believe he is violent, and he greatly resents the fact that the police officer explained to Karen that his behavior was abusive as far as the law was concerned. Scott claims that he has the right to behave in his own family how he so chooses and that the Bible backs him up on this. Moreover, as a man, he feels

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entitled to Karen’s attention and her domestic service, and he believes that it is her job to attend to the needs of the children as well. He is “happy to help” when he is not too tired or the children are behaving as he thinks they should. Scott performs well at work most of the time, and his sales often exceed the targets that the company has set for him. He gets into some minor scuffles with other managers who disagree with his viewpoint, but he has never lashed out at them in anger or threatened them in any way. He saves that behavior for home. Scott believes that because he is a good provider, Karen should be grateful, particularly because so many men cannot provide for their family’s financial needs as well as he does. However, he recognizes that as a couple they often fight about money, usually prompted by Karen’s desire to buy something that Scott believes is unnecessary for her or the children. What makes the story of Scott stand apart from the stories of many other men who batter is that for Scott, religious beliefs and religious practices are interwoven in many different ways through his life and his relationship with Karen. He believes that God condones his behavior, that Karen should be a good Christian woman who is submissive to his wishes, and that the police and many others simply do not understand his values or his actions. If they understood, Scott contends, they would side with him. They would tell Karen to change. R EL IGIOUS MEN WHO ACT ABUSIV E LY: FI N D I N G S F R O M  OU R R ESE ARCH PROGRAM

In Chapter 2, we integrated the results of many of our studies on religion and abuse—​ projects that have been conducted with large groups of clergy, congregations, laypeople, women who have been abused, as well as those who work in various advocacy, therapeutic, and criminal justice contexts and, as a result, walk alongside abused women. Here, we focus on the projects that have been conducted with the perpetrators or with those in the helping professions that work with men who act abusively. Three sources of our data are especially helpful in this regard: interviews, held every 6 months over a period of 4 years, with a group of 50 men who were (at some point) participants in a batterer intervention program; focus groups with a larger number of men who batter, coupled with observation of group meetings; and interviews with domestic violence advocates, criminal justice workers, and therapeutic staff who work with abusive men. We have also carried out case file analyses of more than 1000 men who were involved in another state-​certified program and throughout the years have been engaged with a wide variety of community agencies and congregations that work with families in crisis. Understanding the Problems: How Religion Complicates the Call for Justice and Accountability Listed here are 10 points connected with our program of research throughout the years that demonstrate how, and under what circumstances, religious beliefs and practices can be understood as complicating the journey of a religious man who has acted abusively. They include ways that religious leaders may hinder the call for justice

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and accountability and also ways that congregational life minimizes the harm that has been done. 1. The call to justice and accountability for abusers is compromised when clergy lack knowledge about the dynamics of abuse. As discussed in Chapter 2, most religious leaders do not feel well equipped to respond to the needs of families impacted by abuse. In fact, the same is true for students currently studying in seminaries, in which they are preparing for ministry—​a topic discussed in detail in Chapter 5. There are several ways that the lack of preparedness among religious leaders impacts on the service they can provide to abusive men. First, without knowledge of the dynamics of abuse, it is very easy for clergy to be manipulated by an abuser—​ especially an abuser who is deeply connected to the faith tradition. For example, the abuser may seek out pastoral assistance at the moment when his partner flees to the transition house in search of safety for herself and the children. He has some temporary remorse for her bruised body, or his actions, and he wants to turn back the clock to the way things were before he lashed out in anger. He wants things to “go back to normal.” He calls the minister with two goals in mind: to be offered forgiveness and to ensure that his partner returns home. A religious leader who is familiar with the subject of abuse will be able to identify the manipulation and understand that tears, expensive gifts, and promises of change do not translate into any guarantee of safety for the woman who has been violated and harmed. Such a pastor or other religious elder will help a man to understand that it would not be appropriate to call the shelter: In fact, it could jeopardize her physical and emotional health. Regarding the subject of the abuser’s desire for forgiveness from the victim, the religious leader who is trained would work with an abuser seeking premature forgiveness to help him understand what true forgiveness means and would explain that the timetabling of forgiveness from the victim, if it is to occur, will not be set by him. The abuser’s task will be to take full responsibility for the harm that has been done and to act in ways that reveal that he is determined never to act that way again. A second problem facing the untrained religious leader is that he or she most likely will not be aware of the abuser’s need for justice and accountability for his own journey toward changed thinking and changed behavior. Pastors may understand that the victim needs safety and assistance, but the untrained leader may not realize the long and very difficult journey facing a man who says he is sorry that his wife has gone to the shelter, that the police were called, or that her rib has been broken. He will need to understand that being sorry for the consequences of his violence is insufficient: He needs to feel remorse for his abusive behavior and be determined to act in a different way in the future. Finally, an untrained leader will not be aware of the resources available in the community to assist a man who has acted abusively. Consequently, there is little possibility of an appropriate referral or suggestions to the abuser for appropriate next steps if indeed he is seriously interested in changing his way of thinking or way of behaving. Part of the importance of including community resources relates to the fact that professionals who work in these agencies are trained to help change the thinking and the behavior of abusive men. Talking about change is not enough. There will still be ample room for spiritual help after other resources have been identified. However, it

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is completely inappropriate and potentially harmful for a religious leader to work with a man who is abusing his intimate partner devoid of support at the community level. If Scott were to approach a religious leader not familiar with the dynamics of abuse, it would be very difficult for that leader to be able to offer much in the way of assistance to Scott and very easy for that leader to be manipulated. Other researchers have also identified the lack of training among religious leaders. Moran et al. (2005) interviewed 178 clergy members in New York and Connecticut who spent an average of 3.7 hours per week visiting patients in hospitals. They found that less than half of the clergy had pastoral care training, and although domestic violence was on the list of presenting problems, they were not confident in their ability to deal with this issue, yet they rarely consulted with other professionals for advice. Relatedly, Murty and Roebuck (1992), after analyzing 10,000 calls to a crisis center for battered women, reported that victims were clergy-​referred to the center less than 1% of the time and clergy made up less than 1% of all third-​party calls. Reluctance to refer to secular sources may be the result of limited or no knowledge of these sources (Gross & Stith, 1996). Wood and McHugh (1994) found that clergy who received additional training and information were more likely to make secular referrals. 2. The call to justice and accountability for abusers is compromised when clergy fail to see the need for safety and lack an appreciation of the harm that is created for all family members. Children suffer longer term consequences of abuse in the home environment irrespective of whether they witness the abuse or are the target of it (Edleson & Williams, 2007; Schechter & Edleson, 1999,1 2000; cf. Renzetti, Edleson, & Bergen, 2011). Many untrained religious leaders underestimate the impact of violence at home on children if they are not the ones immediately harmed by the anger and the outbursts. Also, as discussed in Chapter 2, women also sometimes underestimate the effects of intimate partner violence on their children. They believe, erroneously, that as long as the children are not harmed physically, the consequences on their emotional and physical health will be modest. However, many studies reveal otherwise, as discussed in Chapter 1. Children who have witnessed and/​or experienced violence are impacted by those experiences, and adding family instability factors such as financial difficulties, parental addiction, insecure housing, and “on-​again off-​again” parents makes them particularly vulnerable to an array of negative consequences. Paat and Hope (2015, p. 227) refer to fragile families as those at increased risk of experiencing family disruption, instability, and economic disadvantages. Evidence from numerous studies indicates that children who live in “fragile” families and witness and/​or experience abuse—​and thus lack normative childhood socialization—​have issues such as an increased propensity to use violence, problem-​solving deficits, increased school drop-​out rates, early parenthood, rejection by peers, and so on (Casanueva, Martin, & Runyan, 2009; Huang, Vikse, Lu, & Yi, 2015; Nicklas & Mackenzie, 2013; Zolotor, Theodore, Coyne-​Beasley, & Runyan, 2007). Yet in the melee of violence and instability within the family, these consequences are often either overlooked or viewed as temporary “acting out” on the part of the children. This is exactly what transpired in the case of Scott and Karen. When they sought pastoral assistance, the impact of the abuse on the children was not clearly identified.

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However, Karen was advised to contact the police if she was worried about her own personal safety. This was something that Karen might have already been prepared to do, but the suggestion from a religious leader gave her a sense that she had his permission to search for help and she acted on it when she believed that her personal security was at risk. Karen also may have minimized the danger facing the children or the longer term consequences of her husband’s abusive ways. Like so many abused religious women we have interviewed, she was inclined to believe that if she was the only target of her husband’s violence, then the children were safe. Not unlike other women of faith, she prayed for the children regularly and told herself that if Scott ever harmed them, she would immediately leave their house and her relationship with him. What she could not see was that the children were currently being harmed by his controlling and abusive behavior directed at her. It was helpful that the pastor raised this issue as something that she needed to ponder as she considered the next steps in her life journey. Frederick Douglass, 19th-​century former slave and social reformer, wrote, “It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.” That adage remains true today. As noted previously, witnessing interparental violence in childhood and experiencing childhood abuse are associated with later experiences of interpersonal violence (Black, Sussman, & Unger, 2010; Corvo, 2006; Delsol & Margolin, 2004; Statistics Canada, 2014). In the socialization process, children learn by observation, modeling, and reinforcement, and it is clear that they learn violence as a conflict resolution tactic when they are exposed to it (Kerley, Xu, Sirisunyaluck, & Alley, 2010; Wareham, Boots, & Chavez, 2009). Children who live in families identified as having a host of risk factors are very negatively impacted, and that impact remains with them into adulthood. 3. The call to justice and accountability for abusers is compromised if clergy are unwilling to see that the church needs to respond to those who act abusively as well as those who are the victims. Working with abusers does not garner the same public sympathy as working with victims. This is true within and outside of communities of faith. Sometimes, domestic violence advocates fear that putting financial resources to work for batterers will be done so at the expense of programs for women who have been abused. And there is reason for this concern: Transition houses and other services for abused women are often funded by one-​time (often renewable) government grants at the local, state, or federal level. There is frequently insecurity about the funding, and workers in the domestic violence community spend a significant amount of their time chasing money—​writing grant applications, begging politicians, organizing fundraisers, and so on. Some have argued that they spend so much time asking for money and justifying how they spend that money (in terms of reports, meetings, and speaking engagements) that there is little time left to do the work. For religious leaders, working with abusers is very difficult work, has limited rewards, and raises the ire of some folk in the congregation. Most often, men who act abusively that come to their religious leader do so with a very specific agenda in mind: hoping for a lighter sentence in court, wanting the victim to return home from the shelter, or desiring more frequent visitation with their children. When it becomes clear that the religious leader is unwilling or unable to grant some or all of these wishes, the abuser may take his frustration or his anger out on the pastoral counselor. Whereas an abused

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victim may be very grateful for pastoral assistance, referral advice, and ongoing support, an abuser may believe that the minister’s notions about his need for ongoing accountability are heavy handed and resist any call for others in community-​based agencies to know of his violent ways. In Scott’s case, when the pastor did not admonish Karen to submit to her husband’s wishes, Scott became angry with him and insisted that they leave the congregation and seek out another one more to his liking. It would be easy for that pastor to feel like he failed in his work with Scott. In fact, many of the religious leaders we have interviewed for our projects state that they have similar feelings. When the relationship fails, divorce occurs, or the couple leaves the church, the pastoral counselor believes that his or her work has not been successful. However, this is a rather short-​sighted view. In Scott’s case, the pastor’s advice was probably very influential in reinforcing the need in Karen’s mind for safety and that it was her Christian responsibility to take action to protect her physical and emotional health and that of the children. This was a welcomed focus, unlike that provided by so many other religious leaders who do not fully appreciate the harm brought to children in contexts such as these. 4. The call to justice and accountability for abusers is compromised when clergy do not understand the importance of referrals, the process of identifying appropriate referral sources, or following through after a suggestion has been made. It is obvious that someone who is unfamiliar with what resources are available in the local area is not in a position to make a referral suggestion or to connect a potential resource to a need. However, what may be less obvious is that ongoing pastoral contact is often needed (and appreciated) even though a person has followed through on a referral suggestion and made connection with a community-​based resource. This is a central component of the coordinated community response to domestic violence. For example, assume that a rabbi has suggested to an abusive Jewish man that he should consider voluntary attendance at a recognized, certified batterer intervention program. The man agrees to explore this option and in fact starts attending the group. Although some of his needs and ongoing issues will undoubtedly be met through group participation, it is very likely that his spiritual needs may not be. Perhaps he has questions about the difference between a “get” and a secular divorce. Perhaps he believes that it was his wife alone who was responsible for “shalom bayat.” Maybe he has experienced some discrimination as a conservative Jew who wears a kipa (yarmulke) and is wondering whether it is best not to wear any outward signs of his religious connection when he attends the batterers group. These are issues that are unique, in many ways, to a Jewish man who has been acting abusively. Although there is overlap in the issues—​issues related to a religious understanding of divorce, religious notions of gender relations, or religious clothing identifiers—​someone from the faith tradition of the man himself is best positioned to help the man work through the religious angst he may be feeling. It is important to say a few words here about identifying and accessing community-​ based resources. One of our research projects involving religious leaders identified some challenges they faced in knowing how to appropriately access the resources available in the community and then to think through whether there was any coordination of efforts that may be helpful.

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Clergy face a number of challenges with regard to being part of a community response to domestic violence and also with regard to making referrals to community agencies or professionals. First, many religious leaders have had no training or experience referring people to another professional. In most areas of church life, clergy are expected by their congregations to be “life experts” whose seminary training is supposed to equip them to respond to all the spiritual and life course questions and needs of church members. Because religious perpetrators of domestic violence we have interviewed are likely to justify their abuse in spiritual or scriptural terms, the pastor may mistakenly view the problem as being within his or her realm of expertise. When the abuser’s conversation with the pastor is in the form of statements about “his responsibilities as a godly husband,” “reminding his wife to be faithful to her sacred marriage vows,” or concepts such as submission and forgiveness, the pastor may not realize how important it is to involve others in the community who have appropriate training. A second problem is that, especially in smaller parishes or congregations, clergy may not live in a community long enough to develop any rapport or even familiarity with the resources that are available locally. If clergy in a particular congregation move every 3 or 4 years, it is unlikely that they will become sufficiently aware of the resources in the community that are available and even less likely that they will become part of a coordinated community response. That leads to an even greater (perhaps the greatest) problem: For effective referrals to occur, it is essential that there be a sense of trust between clergy and other community agencies. Especially when community professionals do not share their religious faith, clergy may have fears that secular professionals will discourage the religious faith of their church members (a fear that is not always unfounded). When clergy make referrals, there may be a sense that the referrals are one way—​that community professionals and advocates do not appreciate the essential role in providing a measure of accountability that the pastor and the congregation can play for a person of faith. To be frank, most community-​based agencies do not know how to work together with religious leaders. Sometimes, they do not want the religious leader to continue to intervene in the life of someone who has been referred to their services. However, that is certainly not always the case. Even when there is some reluctance on the part of a secular professional (e.g., a psychiatrist or social worker) to collaborate with a religious leader, if the clergyperson is very clear about what he or she views as his or her role, reservations are often minimized or dismissed altogether. Often, problems are related to issues of confidentiality. Religious leaders lacking understanding or training in counseling may not appreciate the way that “professional consultation” and sharing of information occurs. They may never have obtained a signed consent form enabling them to discuss with another person something told to them in a counseling setting. Unfortunately, even those who do so rarely have the experience reciprocated. There cannot be a free exchange of information without the explicit, written consent of the person involved—​in this case, the man who has acted abusively. At first blush, a religious leader may think that such consent would not be forthcoming. However, often it is rather straightforward, especially if the reason it is required is explained to the person. For example, the rabbi might say to a man seeking his help, David, I think it would be helpful for the lawyer to understand that your reluctance to give your wife a divorce relates to your religious understanding of your

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rights as a Jewish husband. Would you be willing for me to discuss the nature of a “get” with him? Would you grant me permission to talk about some of the angst you are feeling about moving forward with your wife’s desire for marital dissolution? If so, I would need your written permission to do so. 5. The call to justice and accountability for abusers is compromised when clergy overestimate a man’s willingness, and ability, to change his abusive and controlling behavior. Most abusers do not believe that they are violent men. The term “batterer” or “abuser” relates to someone else and their violent ways. In our in-​depth study of men who batter, the overwhelming majority did not view themselves as violent. Although we did not ask them directly if they viewed themselves as violent, early on in most of our interviews with men in a batterer intervention program, there was a reference or a comment suggesting that they did not view themselves in this way. Often, the issue would be raised as follows: “I am not violent, but Susan called the police when I got angry at her” or “I am not violent like the other men here, I just pushed her out of my way, because she just kept bugging me, and then she called the cops.” In our book Men Who Batter (Nason-​Clark & Fisher-​Townsend, 2015), we try to unpack this paradox. We do this by addressing questions such as the following: How does a man who has been found guilty of domestic violence begin to narrate his own story of contact with the criminal justice system and the long shadow of the law that follows his life as a consequence? and What do men themselves have to tell us about their lives that might hold clues to understanding issues of violence that strikes at home? Part of the explanation lies in the fact that men who are violent compare themselves to other men. In general, they do not compare themselves to men who treat women well—​as equals. They compare themselves to men who have served more time in prison, show no remorse for the harm they have caused, or never wish to reunite with their children. They situate their perceptions of the wrong they have done and its longer term impact against the backdrop of other men they know from work, group, a bar, or prison. Using this measurement tool, they do not seem so bad. It might be voiced as follows: “Now George, who spoke out in our Tuesday group, he’s one mean dude!” Religious men have another layer of explanation that they sometimes utilize or bring into the conversation when discussing their own inappropriate behavior—​God and change. This is sometimes narrated as “God can change me,” and sometimes it is raised as “God has changed me.” For the untrained religious leader, this can create a very difficult dialogue in the pastoral study and can make the pastor seem to the victim to be very unspiritual if God’s transformative work in the life of the abuser is questioned or doubted. The scenario may be quite simple: A woman discloses to the pastor that her husband has been beating her. Knowing that the pastor has been told, the husband quickly admits to his sin, verbally expresses his guilt and remorse, and says he has prayed for God to change him into the husband that he should be. He then assures his wife and their pastor that God has changed him—​he is no longer abusive and can now be completely trusted. His wife should therefore move back home right away. That narrative is difficult to question in some church contexts—​to continue to express concern about the woman’s safety in light of past abuse is to question the work of God. The problem is exacerbated by the fact that his narrative is likely exactly what the victim has been praying and hoping for, perhaps for years (which the abuser likely

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knows). It leaves the religious victim wondering why her pastor would doubt God and forces her to choose whether to return to the husband who suddenly is using lots of exciting God talk and who promises a changed home or to heed the cautious response of her pastor, who from her perspective seems to be questioning the work of God in her husband’s life. In these circumstances, it takes much wisdom on the part of a religious leader to encourage the possibility of change while simultaneously using the Bible to demonstrate that true repentance is a process and that because of the seriousness of the violent actions in the past, it is important that before she returns home the abuser demonstrates that he has learned new ways of thinking and behaving and that there are accountability structures in place should he revert to his former ways. If the abuser is willing to participate in a batterer’s intervention program and to establish friendships with men who are in healthy family relationships and to be accountable for his actions, it may be an excellent sign that the repentance is genuine and that change is taking place; however, it is not a sign that it is yet time for the victim to put herself in harm’s way again. In congregations that focus on religious experience and celebrate dramatic conversion narratives, the abuser with a “testimony” of dramatic and seemingly instantaneous behavioral change can achieve a sort of celebrity status in the congregation. This can lead to very dangerous situations because the abuser may manipulate the congregation and its leaders into believing his story of change and holding him in high esteem while the victim is viewed as the partner whose more subdued Christian experience does not measure up to the narrative of her abusive husband. The celebration of the supposed change in his life leaves her with no one in her own faith community to whom she can turn. 6. Most clergy underestimate the unique characteristics and circumstances of a religious man who batters. When violence strikes the religious household, there are some unique characteristics and circumstances that sometimes surface. Although the uniqueness of religious men who batter should never be exaggerated, it is critical to identify ways in which religious beliefs, practices, and traditions interweave with their abusive and controlling behavior. Almost all men who batter believe they are entitled to certain goods and services from their intimate partners, and when they do not receive what they believe they deserve, they react with angry, controlling actions. Religious men often believe that God is on their side, having preordained that men, or husbands, should be treated in a certain way and that men are invested with certain power in the family context. They believe this gives them certain rights and decision-​making privileges and control to which their wives or partners are not entitled. Framed in this way, it is a religious issue. They believe that God has chosen that they have rights and entitlements that their wives or partners do not have—​and that these rights and entitlements are ordained by God. A secular worker at a community-​based agency might find it quite challenging to respond to an abuser who asserts that God says, “I am in charge of my family; I am entitled to sex, care, and children from my wife; and I can punish them when they do not submit to my authority.” In fact, we know from previous research (Whipple, 1987), as well as our own studies, that many workers in community-​based agencies

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find it very difficult to work with highly religious people. However, even if social workers or parole officers are able to respond with a measure of understanding because they themselves are people of faith, or they are culturally competent to speak about these matters even though they are not explicitly religious themselves, many highly religious people would not take their opinion as having any religious credibility. That is why it is very important for religious leaders to play a role in a coordinated community effort to reduce domestic violence and to respond with best practices to victim and abuser alike. Our research demonstrates that the demographics of 1,059 men enrolled in a faith-​ based intervention program differ from those of men enrolled in secular programs, as reported in the published literature. Compared to the 840 men enrolled in programs evaluated by Edward Gondolf (2002), some of the relevant comparisons include the following: • Men in the faith-​based program were more likely to be married and less likely to be single, separated, or divorced. • Men in the faith-​based program were older. • Men in the faith-​based program were more likely to be white and much less likely to be African American or Hispanic. • Men in the faith-​based program were more likely to have completed some years of post-​secondary education or to have attained a university or graduate degree. • Men in the faith-​based program were more likely to be employed and less likely to be blue-​collar workers. • Men in the faith-​based program were more likely to have witnessed or experienced violence in their childhood home. • Men in the faith-​based program were not more or less likely to abuse alcohol. • Men in the faith-​based program were similar to men in other programs in terms of whether or not they had ever been arrested or incarcerated for a criminal act. Importantly, many of these factors impact program completion—​with older men who have higher education and current employment completing at higher rates. However, of particular interest in terms of completion rates were referral sources:  Men who were wife-​referred or clergy-​referred had higher completion rates than men who were court-​referred. This added layer of accountability serves to keep them involved in the program over the long term. 7. Many clergy are not equipped to harness the beliefs and practices of their religious tradition to help an abuser at his point of need. In our research with many different Protestant denominations, we have been struck by the difficulty that pastors often report in knowing how to harness the beliefs and practices of their faith community to assist families impacted by abuse. The same is true within Catholicism. The Social Affairs Commission of the Assembly of Quebec Bishops (SACAQB)was among the first religious leaders in Canada to publically acknowledge the problem of

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domestic violence in its report, A Heritage of Violence: A Pastoral Reflection on Conjugal Violence (SACAQB, 1989). The report describes in detail the cycle of domestic violence and its consequences for victims and perpetrators. SACAQB writes that men who batter experience frustration, guilt, and isolation; they associate self-​affirmation with violent behavior; they cut themselves off from experiencing real intimacy with their wives; they slip into compulsive behavior; they end up with criminal records; and they lose their families (p. 24). Violence is understood as a social problem rooted in patriarchal systems, including the church, which reinforce inequality between the sexes. SACAQB points to evidence of patriarchy in the use of exclusively male language in Catholic liturgies and in Canon laws that exclude women from certain roles and responsibilities in the church. In writing about solutions, SACAQB calls on the church to “renew her theology in light of the signs of the times” (p. 48). SACAQB suggests that perpetrators be directed toward appropriate programs in the community. A call for further education of pastors and pastoral workers on domestic violence and appropriate pastoral interventions is also included in the report. More than 20 years after the publication of the SACAQB report, a study of Canadian Catholic resources for domestic violence (Holtmann, 2013b) found that clergy had not received domestic violence training as part of their seminary education—​not those who had been ordained prior to the report’s release nor those who had been ordained afterwards. However, all of those interviewed had encountered Catholic women and men who had experienced domestic violence. One priest in the study, who is also a professor in a seminary, serves as a part-​time chaplain at an inner-​city mission for men in which he facilitates a spirituality group. Speaking of the group, he muses, “Some of the guys are almost functionally illiterate to fellows who are like former CEOs and everything in between” (Holtmann, 2013b). He describes the challenges of this ministry: I think overall the hardest thing to crack is a kind of, in them at least, that they’ve developed a real profound cynicism about life, and really if you want to get ahead, the only way you can get ahead is by being tough, letting your presence be felt, pushing your way around, fighting . . . just the whole power-​thing, for a lot of them, is just the way the world works and “I got hurt at times when I didn’t have power—​I was powerless, therefore I’m going to not let go of the power in my life to control because I don’t want to get hurt anymore.” . . . For many of them, this is the only time [during the group] they’ve heard some of these things that I’m saying, so . . . I try to be really aware of my own baggage and what I’m bringing into the process, my own biases, places in my life where I might be angry or lack integrity or whatever, because I know in some way that’s going to affect the experience that these guys are going to have. . . . Ultimately I think I have an impact on the guys in terms of the kind of man that I am or am not. (Priest #3, Diocese #2) Most Christian organizations, at the denominational level, have by now developed some protocols related to responding to intimate partner violence and other forms of family violence. Sometimes these are written as a position paper, a policy manual, or as a “call to take the issue seriously.” Sometimes they are published by the leadership team (e.g., the board of general superintendents), and other times they are prepared by a ministry division (e.g., the office of pastoral care or women’s ministries). Often, they

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are not widely circulated at the grass-​roots or congregational level—​among either religious leaders or the followers. That disconnect between the denominational hierarchy and the people in local congregations means that no matter what the “official position” of the church leadership may be regarding domestic violence, at the local level and in individual homes the religious beliefs may be conducive to violence and abuse. For Scott Landers, his own upbringing in a home in which his pastor–​father was the boss and corporal punishment was meted out regularly provided a religious justification for his attitudes toward his wife and family and toward his own use of violence. It is cases such as these that make it very important for religious ideologies that are supportive of, or justify, violence to be challenged from within religious groups themselves. For Scott to be told by a secular counselor that his religious views are mistaken would most likely just reinforce them; even when his pastor challenged his thinking, it led to nothing more than a search for another congregation. Until religious groups together and at the grass-​roots level consistently make it clear that violence in the home is never justified by any religious ideology, people like Scott will continue to believe that God is on their side as they act with violence in their homes. 8. The call to justice and accountability for abusers is compromised when clergy feel caught between the demands of their religious tradition (and/​or their local congregation) to discourage divorce and the reality of homes in which safety and peace do not exist. In some ways, churches are still reeling from the sudden and dramatic increase in divorce rates during the latter part of the 20th century. Changes in divorce laws and the increasing ability of women to support themselves and their families financially made it possible for women who previously had been trapped in difficult and violent marriages to escape their abuse, but clergy often fear that liberal divorce laws have led to people giving up on unsatisfactory marriage relationships that could be salvaged with appropriate counseling or intervention. Many religious leaders are especially concerned about the effect of divorce on children and on the social fabric of the wider society; consequently, they counsel couples to try hard to make their marriage work and to overcome challenges. These efforts have resulted in considerable success; appropriate counsel about communication, finances, stresses, addictions, and other issues quite often results in strong and healthy marriages. However, most of the marriages that are salvaged are not marked by pervasive violence. Although there may have been considerable emotional strain on both partners, that is quite different from the kinds of abusive marriages that many people experience. The fact that churches seek to support marriages and work to bring reconciliation to broken marriages is based on an understanding that the marriage relationship has sacred qualities and that marriage vows are to be taken seriously. Religious leaders may stress the importance of marriage in the Bible and remind people that “God hates divorce.” That emphasis on the importance of marriage may lead an abuser to view the church as an ally; it may also lead the victim to feel hopeless in the face of the church’s teaching. That is why it is very important that religious leaders emphasize from the pulpit that there is a major difference between normal conflict in a marriage (which is not in itself a reason for divorce, although it may require counseling or other resources to resolve) and abusive behavior that puts a person’s physical and emotional safety in jeopardy.

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These problems are made more complicated by parachurch organizations that promote “family values” and that emphasize the preservation of the family unit at all costs. When a pastor seeks to be supportive of a victim who is seeking a divorce from a violent spouse, the abuser and his supporters may use the teachings of such organizations to demonize the pastor as one who does not defend marriage. These are some of the challenges facing those who minister in evangelical Protestant churches. The issues facing Roman Catholics, although similar in some respects, are contextualized differently. Catholics throughout the world, clergy and laity, have recently been invited by Pope Francis to engage in renewed reflection and dialogue concerning the family. In a homily during the Synod of Bishops on “The Vocation and Mission of the Family in the Church and the Contemporary World” (2015), Pope Francis said, God did not create us to live in sorrow or to be alone. He made men and women for happiness, to share their journey with someone who complements them. . . . It is the same plan which Jesus presents . . . summarized with these words: “From the beginning of creation [God] made them male and female; for this reason a man will leave his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife and they become one flesh. So they are no longer two but one flesh” (Mk 10:6-​8; cf. Gen 1:27; 2:24). God joins the hearts of two people who love one another, he who joins them in unity and indissolubility. This shows us that the goal of conjugal life is not simply to live together for life, but to love one another for life! The results of the Catholic bishops’ deliberations are contained in the Synod’s final report, in which they further describe the sacramental and vocational nature of marriage: This vocation receives its ecclesial and missionary form from the sacramental bond which consecrates the indissoluble, conjugal relationship between a husband and a wife. The exchange of consent establishing this bond, implies the couple’s commitment to mutual self-​giving and receiving, which is total and definitive and, biblically speaking, in “one flesh” (Gen 2:24). The previous passages highlight the Catholic Church’s teachings on marriage, which is characterized as a God-​given relationship and by a complementarity of the distinct roles of men and women who are to engage in total self-​giving and receiving with each another. The indissolubility of the sacrament of marriage or its lifelong character is strongly reiterated. Nevertheless, the Synod report marks the first time that family violence is explicitly mentioned in a Vatican document (SACAQB, 2015). The bishops refer to family violence as a growing phenomenon and a unique challenge. In suggesting pastoral responses to contemporary families who experience family violence, the bishops (SACAQB, 2015) write, What is urgently needed today is a ministry to care for those whose marital relationship has broken down. Though separation often leads to the end of many, long years of conflict between the spouses, it causes still greater suffering in the children of the marriage. The loneliness of the spouse who is abandoned or who has been forced to cease living in a situation characterized by continuous, severe

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ill-​treatment, calls for particular care on the part of the Christian community. Prevention and treatment in cases of domestic violence require close cooperation with law enforcement to move against the perpetrators and adequately protect the victims. (p. 78) The bishops do not provide specific details concerning the ministry of care for victims and perpetrators of family violence that is to be exercised by the Catholic community. However, the fact that they raise the issue of family violence in the midst of re-​emphasizing Catholic teachings on the family, acknowledge that it contributes to marital breakdown, promote cooperation with community resources, and support pastoral care for family members who have experienced violence indicates an appreciation for the complexity of the issue. 9. The call to justice and accountability for abusers is compromised when clergy conceptualize domestic violence as failing to adhere to the “biblical model” of marriage, a view often rooted in simplifying the problem of abuse and exaggerating the differences between men and women. When we conducted focus groups among seminary students in the United States and Canada, we heard many of the students refer to Ephesians 5 as “the biblical model” for marriage. Certainly there is a sense in which the Bible sets very high standards for marriage, but what such idealistic understandings of marriage fail to address is that the Bible (especially in the Old Testament) is also very realistic when it describes how marriages can go horribly wrong, and it does not portray the problem as one of “failing to follow the correct model” or “not following one’s prescribed role” in the marriage. In biblical terms, the problem is human sinfulness. If one or both parties in a marriage, no matter what model is being followed, are behaving abusively, then the answer is not simply to have both parties return to the proper model for their marriage—​the immediate concern is for the person who is being abused to find safety and then for the abuser to be held accountable for his actions. Although the “biblical model” rhetoric continues in many congregations, even among conservative Christian groups there is an increasing awareness of the inadequacy of such oversimplified understandings of marriage. 10. Many community-​based service providers minimize or ridicule the value of a man’s faith perspective, or religious network, in assisting him in the aftermath of domestic violence. Numerous men in our research program recounted the difficulties of life in the prison system, in which there is no privacy unless one is in “the hole” (solitary confinement) with no human contact for 23 hours a day due to some infraction of the rules; personal safety is always a concern and boredom is a constant issue; one is separated from all of his significant others; and life is just tough every day. One common response to these conditions was to reach for a Bible and to participate in a Bible study group or a church service. Both of these activities offered some support and comfort to these men in need; in fact, they served as essentially pivotal events in their lives. Whatever the motivation for picking up the Bible and/​or attending Bible study groups, the result was similar: Finding God in prison served as a life-​altering event for many men. For some men, it supports and nurtures their feelings of hope and it

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continues to help them to persist when the necessary changes become difficult. These men spent their prison time wisely—​acquiring this resource in a time of crisis and learning a new framework for living rather than pursuing a criminal path. After release, their circumstances on the outside are also challenging and difficult on a daily basis; therefore, the support they find in their faith remains critical to their lives. Research on marginalized groups and domestic violence in Canada highlights the complexity of addressing the issue of working with religious men who batter due to racialization. Gender-​based violence does not adequately address the problem without also considering the pervasiveness of racial and ethnic oppression throughout Canadian institutional structures (Fong, 2010; Hill Collins, 2000; hooks, 1984). For many racial and ethnic groups, the individual is better understood from the perspective of the collective rather than vice versa. The collective identity, be that of the family, the community, or ethno-​religious group, plays a significant role in determining the identity of the individual. On the one hand, many immigrant men and women identify first with ethno-​religious groups, even if they are not actively engaged. On the other hand, in aboriginal cultures in Canada, there is “the tendency of relatives within an extended family to think and behave much more like an inter-​related system . . . than as separate and disconnected parts” (Aboriginal Healing Foundation, 2003, p. 47). Much of liberal feminist activism on domestic violence is based on the assumption of a nuclear family, which is a social construction suitable to the capitalist mode of production that protects White, Western European domination. Immigrant and aboriginal women who seek the protection of the criminal justice system from their abusive partners and want assistance in ending domestic violence do not necessarily want their husbands incarcerated. In Canada and the United States, there are already disproportionate numbers of aboriginal and immigrant men in prison populations (Proulx & Perrault, 2000; Ursel, 2006). Since the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, Islamophobia has led to the stereotyping of all Muslim men as domineering and all Muslim women as subservient victims. This has led to violations of their religious and civic freedoms. Racialization and religious stereotyping by dominant social groups tend to silence any discussion about domestic violence within marginalized groups. In an interview at a second-​stage housing facility, the administrator, an immigrant woman, spoke about how a local church with a West African congregation approaches the problem of domestic violence, given that open conversation does not work: In the faith you don’t see domestic violence, you see “relationship,” people will talk about what is the right relationship. Like one of the courses in the church I attend is “Love and Respect.” So they try and teach love and respect—​they go hand in hand. They won’t talk about violence—​domestic violence. . . . They will not teach about “what is not a good relationship” but they teach “what is a good relationship.” If you realize that yours is not like that and then start to recognize that something might be wrong . . . I think the abuser doesn’t even know that they are abusing—​physically they know, but mentally, maybe not. . . . The church that I go to is really focused and says, “If you have healthy families, you can have healthy communities” (Shelter Worker #1, Diocese #3). Leaders of ethno-​religious and aboriginal groups are aware of the larger social problems that confront men from marginalized groups and the sensitivities that are

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required to work effectively for change with men who batter. Strategies to address domestic violence within particular groups must be combined with strategies to combat violence directed at those groups (Sokoloff & Pratt, 2005). Searching for Solutions 1. Almost all clergy have experience in responding to the needs of men who act abusively. In one of our studies involving evangelical clergy (N = 343; response rate, 70%), we learned that greater than 70% of these pastors had experience in counseling a man who had been abusive toward his wife or girlfriend. Although the majority of pastors were not called upon to do this frequently, 29.3% had done so on two or more occasions in the past year. A small proportion—​6.1%, or 21 pastors in that sample—​had counseled five or more abusive men during the 1-​year period preceding our data collection. What happens when pastors work with men who act abusively? There are several ways to begin to address this question, all of which offer important clues in the relationship between faith, abuse, accountability, and change. Employing a 10-​year time frame, we analyzed the case files of more than 1,200 men in a faith-​based batterer intervention program located in the state of Washington. The data revealed that personal involvement with a religious leader increased the proportion of men who completed the 52-​week state-​certified program and graduated from it. Although all the men were mandated by the criminal justice system to attend each week, approximately 60% did so. Further analysis revealed that men in the program who had contact with their religious leader were more likely to attend regularly for the 52 weeks and graduate from the program. A total of 80% of these men completed the requirements and graduated. We believe that this is an important piece of evidence for the ongoing involvement of religious leaders in the lives of men who act abusively. Presumably, they were encouraging men to take responsibility for the wrong they had done, to follow through on the orders of the court, and to be accountable for completing the program. Although this study does not enable us to understand exactly how they intervened, it does offer some compelling data for the “value-​added” impact of a religious leader in the life of a man of faith who has been found guilty of domestic violence. Offenders also cite several important contributions made by clergy members. According to these men, clergy can reinforce and support personal beliefs and attitudes necessary for change. They were direct in their descriptions of how their clergy members helped them on their journeys toward change, making statements such as the following: “I have been counseled by my pastor in our home one hour per week, prayed, called on my pastor in times of great anger, or need”; “I guess you could say he’s my mentor, he’s a great man, he’s done everything he could”; and “He’s played the mediator, he helped me find a place to stay with some church brothers. He’s done above and beyond the call of duty.” As Unruh and Sider (2005) state, “A divine force is seen to be at work through the compassionate commitments of God’s people, giving their work spiritual meaning” (p. 72). We interviewed a large number of domestic violence advocates and criminal justice workers, such as probation and parole officers, as well as judges, for a research

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project that was located in the state of Oregon. In that project, we were attempting to understand the role of a faith-​based batterer intervention as part of a coordinated community response to domestic violence. Workers from a variety of disciplines spoke freely of the positive role of a faith-​based agency in the lives of both men of faith and men of no explicit religion. Although some of the domestic violence advocates indicated that they had been skeptical of the involvement of any “religious types” in the work with abused men, they reported that they were able to observe through their own work its impact for good in the lives of abused religious women. The parole officers we interviewed offered many examples of how a spiritual tradition, or religious practices, increased the “buy-​in” for batterers to attend a program on a regular basis. It is interesting that this evidence for the role of religious leaders derives from those who themselves report little interest personally in religious involvement. Thus, we have evidence from the case files and evidence from the experiences of secular workers that a religious leader can—​and often does—​offer additional resources and accountability structures for men of faith who have been processed by the criminal justice system because of intimate partner violence. We must also consider the perspective of the man himself, the one who has perpetrated the abuse. Almost every abuser we have interviewed says at the beginning of our conversation together, “I am not violent.” Those we have observed in groups also minimize the severity and impact of their abusive behavior. This is despite the compelling evidence in their files that indeed they have been violent—​from the police reports, the victim statements, and the criminal justice processing of their cases. Often, abusers believe that they are the real victims, especially during the early stages of intervention. Sometimes they say this to the police, and often they say it within the group setting of the batterer intervention program that they are mandated to attend. Throughout our research data, men who have acted abusively regularly reference themselves as victims—​this kind of thinking pervades accounts of their lives and limits their ability to identify and acknowledge issues of control. Men may view themselves as victims of their female partner’s violence (Hines, Brown, & Dunning, 2007; Seamans, Rubin, & Stabb, 2007), victims of the system (Henning & Holdford, 2006), victims of their childhood (Högnäs & Carlson, 2010; Millett, Kohl, Jonson-​ Reid, Drake, & Petra, 2013), or as victims due to their addictions (Stuart, 2005; Stuart et al., 2008). Some of the men feel victimized by all these issues, but most often they talk about one or another. These being a victim beliefs are important because they hinder men moving forward—​taking responsibility and becoming accountable for their thoughts and actions. There are conflicting opinions about how to handle a perpetrator’s own accounts of victimization. From the standpoint of some of the domestic violence advocates and batterer intervention facilitators in Canada and the United States with whom we have worked, men’s talk of their own victimization has no place in a program meant to call them to accountability for their own violence toward an intimate partner. It is off limits, considered inappropriate and manipulative, and evidence that they are not progressing in their development of empathy for the victim they have harmed or their responsibility for their own violence. Others take a different approach. They believe there is space within the context of a batterer intervention program for men to name what has happened to them and to see that they have become the aggressor they once feared. The key ingredient from this perspective is that men must transition from an understanding of their own victimization

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and its impact on them to an understanding of the harm they have created in the life of their intimate partner(s). Those who espouse this strategy do not tolerate those who continue to talk of their own victimization and disregard or underestimate their role as aggressor. It was not uncommon in our interviews with male batterers, or observing men in groups, to hear a man state, “I hated my father for what he did to me and to our mom. Now I fear I have become just like him.” So where does this fit into the role of religious leaders and their experience in responding to the needs of men who abuse their intimate partners? We believe—​based on our data—​that it is important for some helping professional to listen to the story of a male batterer’s own victimization told in his own words—​ whether that be from childhood as he witnessed abuse or his own personal experiences of suffering abusive acts at the hands of a parent or other trusted adult. Furthermore, the possibility that he was bullied as a child or as an adult should be discussed. In Chapter  2, we stressed how important it is that religious leaders listen to an abused woman tell her story, and—​let there be no doubt about it—​we believe that is essential, a foundational piece of her journey toward healing and wholeness. Her story needs to be told, her pain and her angst affirmed, and resources offered to her as she moves forward. These resources must include the provision of safety for herself and her children, but also her other needs—​financial, legal, emotional, physical, and spiritual—​must be recognized as well. In this chapter, we want to make clear that the perpetrator also has needs. He needs to understand the harm he has caused, to take responsibility for it, to develop empathy for those he has hurt, and to choose to think and act differently than he has in the past. The goal in working with abusive men is to help them become accountable and change. Although the harm that has been caused should never be forgotten, dismissed, underestimated, or rationalized, listening to abusive men tell their story is an important first step in intervention, especially for religious leaders. However, there is a difference between listening to the story of childhood abuse—​ as horrific as it may be—​and accepting that as an excuse for the abuse that has been meted out to his partner and/​or children. In our research, we have found that men who are never able to get beyond the discussion of their own victimization, and its impact, are poor candidates for change. They are unable to empathize with the partner they have harmed, they blame their actions on others, and they accept very little or no responsibility for their violence. Although it would be disrespectful to ignore the abuser’s story or its impact, the wise pastoral counselor will bring the conversation back on a regular basis to the present and why the abuser is now seeking assistance and how he is working to change his abusive behavior. It is not necessary to understand the whole situation of a man’s life and circumstances to be helpful. That would be unrealistic. Later, we highlight the importance of referrals, but it is important to mention here that it would be very unwise—​and potentially very dangerous—​for the pastor alone to be intervening in the life of an abuser without appropriate resources being offered to those who are impacted by his violence. Although it is not without precedence, most abusers do not volunteer to seek help on their own without those they have harmed having also sought assistance. We have learned from many pastors in our studies and in our training venues that men who abuse often seek religious help when their wives take the children and flee to a shelter. Often, the abuser’s sole goal in seeking pastoral intervention is to get his wife back home. He wants the pastor to call the transition

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house and urge her to leave and return to her husband; this action would be totally inappropriate and harmful for the pastor to do. It is not uncommon for a minister or other religious leader to find that an abusive man will become quite angry when the pastor will not comply with his wishes. In part because intervention with an abusive man can make him angry—​anger that he may later inflict on his partner or children—​it is critical that religious leaders ensure that someone besides themselves has regular contact with the victim. In the case of a woman who has sought safety in a shelter, she has access to resources that will attend to her physical and emotional health while she is resident at the facility. However, in cases in which a man has sought pastoral help after his partner threatened to go to a shelter but did not actually go, her needs for safety are critical as he seeks help. It is not considered appropriate by most helping professionals for a religious leader to assist both an abusive man and the woman he is abusing, either together or individually. One of them must be referred to someone else for spiritual help. There are many reasons for this, but an important one to highlight here is that both the victim and the abuser need to believe that someone is there for their individual needs, whether that is a need for safety and peace in the home (for the victim) or for help in stopping the abusive acts and changing the way one lives (for the abuser). In batterer intervention programs throughout the United States and Canada, it is considered best practice to ensure that there is contact with the victim and the family to monitor what happens at home as the abuser participates in any intervention program. This is first and foremost for the safety of all family members, including, of course, the target of the violence, but it is also to ensure that the abuser is not engaging in abusive acts at home without the knowledge of those leading the program. As a best practice for the religious leader, we argue that it is vital that resources are in place for the victim at the point in time that you are working with the abuser. That is not to say that your leadership team or your congregation should be the ones offering those services, but there needs to be assurance that the victim and the dependent children are supported throughout the intervention process. The following are practical ways of doing so: • Ensure that another member of the staff makes phone contact with the abused when you are meeting with the abuser. • Ensure that the victim knows that you are meeting with the abuser and has an indication of what are the best practices. • Offer the contact information for community-​based resources, such as a shelter, in case safety is compromised. • Prepare information about what one can expect when one contacts the church for help in the aftermath of domestic violence (e.g., what the church does and does not do). • Meet with the executive director of the shelter to ask her opinion about best practices in cases in which an abusive man seeks your assistance. • Most clergy—​when they have received some training concerning abuse—​ can interweave some aspects of their faith tradition with the reality or context of abuse. In Chapter 2, we examined the importance for religious leaders to employ both the language of contemporary culture and the language of the spirit as they seek to meet

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the needs of religious victims who seek their help in the aftermath of domestic violence. For victims, the language of contemporary culture centers around needs for safety and well-​being, taking into account any compromise to their physical or emotional health. For victims, the language of the spirit relates to ways that their religious tradition and practices can be harnessed on the road to healing and wholeness. For abusers, too, there is a need to harness both the words of contemporary culture and the words of the spirit—​including the faith tradition to which the abusers are connected. As these are interwoven, themes of justice, remorse, repentance, accountability, and change will surface. Often, abusers want to focus first on themes of submission and forgiveness. Submission, which is sometimes a code word among batterers for “doing things as I say,” and forgiveness, which is misunderstood by some as “forgetting what I have done,” can be harnessed by religious leaders who are comfortable using the words of their tradition to talk more broadly about family patterns (rather than focus on submission) and repentance (as a component part of forgiveness). For those in the Christian tradition, pointing out that the Bible speaks out against violence is important for a pastoral counselor to do. There is also the Scriptural imperative to live in peace and safety within the home. However, the Bible offers many stories of men and women who were unwilling or unable to live up to God’s ideal. Starting in the beginning, in the book of Genesis, there are examples of family violence—​wherein Cain killed his brother Abel, and Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers. Thus, the ideal of peace and the reality of brokenness are themes throughout the Scriptures. These stories and the messages they convey can be harnessed in the work with those who are abusive. However, the Christian faith also teaches that we can live differently today than we did in the past. The broad Christian narrative of conversion—​repentance, remorse, altered behavior, and forgiveness—​can be held as a spiritual strategy for change. The problem with many abusers—​including religious ones—​is that they want their circumstances to change but they do not want to alter their own thinking or behavior. This leads to a central question that many religious leaders ask: Am I being manipulated by the abuser? Or, at a more basic level, am I being unfair (or even unchristian) to ask this question? Or, should I just focus my energy on helping the woman victim and her children? These are three very important questions for faith leaders to consider each time they work with abusers. The answer to the first question is “probably.” The answer to the second is “maybe.” The answer to the third is “no.” Manipulation is often comorbid in the help-​seeking behavior of abusers. But that should not stop you, the religious leader, from being involved in the life of an abusive man or those of his family. Once you recognize the power and potential of manipulation, you have taken the first step to deal with it. Manipulation, essentially, is the desire to influence another person’s behavior in order to achieve a certain outcome. For the abuser, it may be his wish that you, the religious leader, call the transition house and state that it is safe for his wife or partner to return home. Or he may be insistent that you, the pastor, tell her how she has contributed to the violence; that you see them together; or any other number of actions that would threaten her safety and compromise the possibility of justice and accountability and change for him. It is not unchristian to think, or state, these concerns about manipulation. It is strategic. It needs to be kept in the back of your mind always. To be able to call an abuser to accountability and change is to understand fully the harm that has been done, to

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see the broader context of an abuser’s life and circumstances, and to journey with him as he seeks to engage (or to encourage him to engage) with all aspects of the change process. Much of this is very difficult work. Often, there is substance abuse or excessive drinking. There has also often been abuse in his family of origin. Sometimes there are issues of his low self-​esteem or un/​underemployment. Although it would be erroneous and harmful to think of these factors as causing the abuse, they nevertheless play a role in how the abuse is interwoven in his life and what options are available for intervention and change in its aftermath. We have learned that it takes many people in a variety of professional and lay roles to walk alongside an abuser. Walking alongside the abuser does not mean that you underestimate the violence or its impact. It does not mean that you excuse the violence or place the blame on any family member other than the one who has acted abusively. It does mean that you want to be part of the solution to the very difficult situation that the family is in. It does mean that you want to be an encouraging force in his life. It does mean that you will treat him with respect. It does not mean that you will accept, or endorse, his abusive actions. It does not mean that you will offer forgiveness without evidence of changed behavior or suggest that the victim do so. Notwithstanding all the challenges, religious leaders are givers of hope. They see themselves as such. Congregations see them this way. Victims count on it. And abusive men need hope—​hope grounded in a reality that change is possible when accountability structures are in place. 3. Pastoral involvement in responding to those who act abusively sends a message to the congregation that it is appropriate for a religious man to seek help after he has acted badly. It also signals that as a leader, you have the protection of the church in mind as well. When we argue that religious leaders and their congregations can have a role to play in offering encouragement and support for those attempting to alter their abusive thinking and abusive actions, it does not mean that we are blind to their manipulative ways or the potential for someone who has acted abusively in one context to act abusively in another context, with the same partner or another one. Sometimes abuse is confined to intimate partners. Sometimes abusive and controlling ways are part of a broader strategy of treating others poorly and resorting to abusive acts to gain or maintain power. In the congregational context, pastors and other religious leaders need to be concerned about the individual or family in crisis, but they also need to be concerned about the safety of the rest of the faith community. Thus, at the same time that priests, ministers, and rabbis are speaking out against violence and encouraging those impacted to seek their help, they need to be mindful that the prevalence and severity of abuse impact others too. Sometimes it creates risks for members of the congregations and sometimes it provides opportunities for ministry to those men who are hurting others. We have learned that very few religious leaders have ever preached a specific message in which they make explicit God’s condemnation of abuse or discuss abuse as part of their premarital counseling sessions with engaged couples. However, we know from our studies of abused women that both of these are very important in helping battered

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women to name what has happened to them and to feel that their religious house of worship, and the leader in particular, is a safe place for them to go to make a disclosure of abuse. As noted in Chapter 2, religious women are very enthusiastic that if their abusive male partners look to the faith community for help in the aftermath of violence, help will be forthcoming and change will occur as a result. Thus, one of the most persistent referral patterns in congregational life is for an abused religious woman to suggest to her abusive partner that he seek help from the pastor or priest. Also, there is no doubt that when abuse is explicitly mentioned during a homily, sermon, prayer or the weekly routine of congregational life, this reinforces the private encouragement that may be occurring behind closed doors. However, there are some very real risks that need to be taken into account when a religious leader meets on a sporadic or regular basis with a person who has acted abusively. Some of those dangers relate to his family members, who may now be at elevated risk, but others relate to the congregation more generally and still others to congregations beyond the one for which the leader is providing some form of intervention. Although it is virtually impossible to identify all of the risks, we mention a few so that religious leaders and their congregations can show due diligence. First, when the religious leader condemns the violence a man has meted out to his intimate partner and/​or children, the man will often become angry at the time or later. By confronting him, however gently but firmly, you need to be aware of your own safety (as the religious leader), but you must also consider what happens when he leaves your office. That is why there needs to be independent support for the intimate partner. That is also why you need to consider where you are meeting, who is in the building, and what time of day the meeting is occurring. Second, if an abusive man is unhappy with your intervention, he may leave your congregation in anger and go to another. In that new context, his history of abuse may never be revealed. Many of the abusive men we interviewed as part of one of our projects talked about the excellent dating opportunities that large, relatively anonymous congregations offered them. Third, if he leaves the congregation and is still living with the partner he has been abusing, he may insist that she also leave the congregation. When this happens, her supportive network in the congregation may evaporate, which men who are abusive often use to their own advantage. A fourth and final point to raise here is that as the religious leader, you may find yourself in the position of needing to insist that the abuser resign from leadership roles in the congregation or other ministry activities. The confidential nature of what has occurred in his family, together with the need to act decisively and quickly on his removal from public ministry, will cause many questions to be asked that you will be unable to answer (because of confidentiality). This is part of the reason why protocols need to be in place in congregational life so that you can abide by them if a situation arises in which a trusted lay leader is found to be abusive at home. The following are additional behaviors that should cause you to be very concerned in your intervention with a man who acts abusively: • He has asked forgiveness of God and now wants to hear you say that you forgive him as well. • He wants you and the congregation and his abused partner to forgive and forget, not to be constantly bringing up for conversation what has been forgiven by God.

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• He wants to move quickly from individual help to relationship help with his partner present. He wants to drop the “I” language in favor of the “We” language. Rather than receiving help that “I might change,” he focuses on the relationship and that “We need to treat each other more lovingly.” • He is focused on damage control, limiting how much other people in the congregation know about what has happened in his relationship, involvement with the police, or the judicial processing of his case. • He is very sorry that he has been caught but not so sorry that he acted poorly. • He continues to focus on how much more of a victim he is than his partner. • He cannot understand why this is such a big deal—​a few slaps and a few bruises. Besides, his father did this regularly to his mother. • He sees no reason to step down from any leadership roles. In essence, as a pastor, part of the challenge in providing support to men who act abusively is that your context for that care, support, and additional accountability for him also means that you have to be concerned with the safety and well-​being of others in the congregation. Although you may be fully cognizant of a man’s desire to manipulate you, it is much more difficult to control his manipulation of others within congregational life. However, their safety must be your concern. Also, the vitality and strength of congregational life can be compromised very quickly by an abusive man in a position of power. As others have described, he can be a “wolf in sheep’s clothing.” However, the enormity of the challenge is also part of the potential of the solution. When it is handled well, operating under best practices for first responders, it signals to the victim, her family, and, by extension, many others that the congregation takes seriously intimate partner abuse. 4. There is a small—​but growing—​network of support from men to men in many congregations. It is important for abusive men who unleash their anger when they are disappointed and do not get their own way to meet other men who think and behave differently. It is not easy to develop small groups of men to support each other through the difficult and exacting times of life. It is not easy to find men who themselves are kind and loving toward their partners to give of their free time to help other men who behave differently. As such, developing support groups for men is not as easy or straightforward as developing support groups for women. However, during approximately the past 25 years, there have been a number of attempts to gather men together in small group contexts, and in larger male-​only gatherings, to encourage peaceful living across gender and racial lines. The Promise Keepers was one such initiative: It was opposed to violence, but its outlook did not support full equality in marital roles for men and women. In some church contexts, there are accountability groups, but these lay groups are at most a supplement, and certainly not a substitute, for a facilitator-​run, state-​certified batterer intervention program. Other congregations have groups for men that do not focus on abuse but, rather, reach out to a broad spectrum of men and in so doing have the potential to encourage violent-​free behavior and call all men to act in loving and respectful ways toward their partners. For example, some congregations have small

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group ministries for men, such as Bible studies. Others have events that are geared toward certain men, such as new fathers, men in their senior years, or men who love sports. All these groups can enrich the lives of men who have been in crisis or who have acted abusively at home. We know of no empirical studies that reveal whether or not these groups are effective with regard to the issue of abuse, however. We do know that the group experience is very effective. Many of the abusive men we interviewed told us so. For some, it is likely that the group experience was one of the few times in their adult lives that they had communicated to other people (especially other men) in healthy and respectful ways. The group facilitators made the men aware of the rules of engagement and ensured that their interactions were respectful. Everyone had the opportunity to speak and be listened to. This is part of the process of re-​socialization, and it requires the help of skilled professionals. The facilitators were modeling the kind of behavior they wanted the men to practice. The group experience can also be effective within the faith community. Here, too, men can learn to be respectful toward other men, and religious leaders can discuss and model abusive-​free thinking and actions. Thus, a community of faith can be a place in which healthy relationships can be modeled and communication skills practiced. Religious groups also embrace struggle as a reality of life and can be honest about the struggles that members face in their daily lives. In this way, faith communities can be places in which men who have acted violently can practice the skills they are learning in batterer intervention programs. However, there can be a challenge here too: Often, religious people are hesitant to provide constructive criticism in group contexts or to hold others accountable for their actions. Accountability has to be a priority, and it is made evident through actions rather than simply through words. 5. When clergy condemn the violence men have meted out in their intimate relationships, it opens the possibility for hope and change in the lives of younger men who have yet to begin their adult lives. One of the many interesting findings to emerge from our program of research with men who batter was their personal stories of early intimate relationships. Many of the men lived dangerously, some from an early age. They began consuming alcohol and illicit drugs at a young age. These factors were sometime associated with an unstable home life, poor educational attainment, and emotional immaturity. To be sure, living dangerously is associated with the men feeling out of control and having a lack of power over their own lives. The men in our study spoke about the impact that early pregnancies has on their lives. Most did not consciously choose to have children at a young age, and this was a pivotal turning point in their lives. They had not considered that birth control was their responsibility, and they had poor skills in looking after themselves, let alone a family. Early pregnancy pointed them in a life direction they had not anticipated, and they felt out of control. And control was exactly what they wanted and yet did not have. They felt forced into the fatherhood role for which they were not prepared. For many, violence was an attempt to gain control over a situation in which they felt out of control. Acting abusively was just how they lived and they did so until they were “caught in the act.” To be sure, acting violently in relationships had worked for the men—​it got them at least some of what they wanted in life. Many of them had learned this in their childhood

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and youth. The moral message that acting violently is wrong had not stopped them from acting violently, and neither had the threat of punishment by the law. It was often the criminal justice system and the consequences for breaking the law that stopped them from acting violently toward women and children, at least for a time. As part of intervention programs, or through involvement with a religious leader, men have the opportunity to access professional and community help. As we have seen, the intervention of the criminal justice system is an opportunity for positive change in abusive men, but this change must be supported by multiple social networks, not simply by serving time in the prison system or by being followed thereafter by a parole officer. 6. The faith community has material (i.e., space) and spiritual resources that can be harnessed to help an abusive man change. The church is a place of teaching, a place of caring, and a place of community. Each of those aspects of church life can make a difference in the life of an abusive man. Obviously, the teaching element of congregational life can provide instruction about how to build healthy relationships, but it is the fact that the teaching takes place in a caring community environment that can make that teaching particularly effective. Much of the teaching of the church is not just from the pulpit or from the classroom; it is reinforced as people share their journey through life together. In that atmosphere, abusive men who grew up in dysfunctional homes can see how healthy families relate to one another. They can see how other people handle stress and adversity. They can see the love of other men for their wives and children and the respect that they show in their homes. They can hear how men in healthy relationships talk with their wives and refer to their wives. In other words, the teaching from the pulpit or in the church classroom is reinforced in practical ways as people live their lives as part of the community of faith. The extent to which a congregation is intentional about ensuring that community is an important aspect of church life is likely related to the extent to which the congregation can have a helpful effect in the life of an abusive man. Several of the criminal justice professionals who were interviewed in our research program noted that they had seen change in both the way clergy members and churches deal with domestic violence and the language being used. One stated, Over the years I have worked with the faith community and domestic violence I hear less and less you stay with your husband no matter what. Now about three years ago at a talk . . . on domestic violence at a Baptist church, it was very strong about trying to stay in a relationship. But there was also this turning edge there saying that nobody wants you to die, there will be no marriage if you are dead, nobody wants you dead. For some time, we have been involved in helping faith communities think through the plethora of resources at their disposal that can be harnessed to help men who act abusively. We have done so through our books that have been published by religious presses, such as No Place for Abuse: Biblical and Practical Resources to Counteract Domestic Violence (Kroeger & Nason-​Clark, 2010) and Refuge from Abuse: Healing and Hope for Abused Christian Women (Nason-​Clark, & Kroeger, 2004), but also through the development of our online resources (http://​www.theraveproject.org). As the

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Web-​Based Resources section of this book indicates, other organizations also have prepared materials, guidelines, and suggestions. 7. There is power in working in a coordinated community response. As we argued in Chapter 2, it is very important for clergy to view themselves as one piece of a puzzle in working with families impacted by abuse. When religious leaders come together with domestic violence advocates, first responders such as police, workers in the criminal justice system, and others involved in the helping professions, such as therapists and medical staff, there is greater opportunity to ensure violence can be stopped, best practices are adopted, and healing and wholeness occur for all family members. For those who have acted abusively, there may be criminal justice involvement, and other services such as programs that help individuals deal with addictions may be needed. Changed thinking and behavior will occur slowly, if at all. It would be easy for a pastor to feel that he or she is all alone, working in isolation with a person who has acted abusively and who may act that way again. It is essential that the religious leader talk to the police or a specific unit within the police if one is available in the local context. It is important to have contact information and to know what resources are available through the criminal justice system to assist those who have been found guilty of these crimes. It is also essential to know about community-​based programs that help men to change their abusive ways. Many programs have not identified any specific role for religious leaders. Sometimes, members of ethno-​/​cultural/​religious communities are involved when there is particular sensitivity for those of aboriginal background or for those who have recently immigrated to Canada. A coordinated community response brings together criminal justice agents and agencies, therapeutic service providers, community agencies working with victims/​ survivors, medical personnel, and clergy members and faith communities—​all working to end domestic violence. Uekert (2003) details two elements necessary for a coordinated community response:  (1)  Key stakeholders must actively participate and (2) the stakeholders must reach consensus on the most appropriate response to domestic violence in their communities. Each agent brings specific knowledge and skills to the issue—​all of which contribute to an appropriate and timely response. For example, specialized domestic violence court personnel ensure that cases are dealt with efficiently and effectively within an optimal timeline. Probation officers working with domestic violence caseloads also serve as an integral part of a coordinated community response. They can and do meet with intervention therapists and community service providers to ensure that the offenders in their caseloads are complying with their probationary requirements. This type of meeting offers all parties insight into the progress of men who have acted abusively. In addition, numerous cities have developed domestic violence councils that meet on a monthly basis to discuss pertinent issues and offer the opportunity for stakeholders to network. Developing a coordinated community response is not easy. Due to the many people and parties involved, each with their own agendas and priorities, this type of initiative is a challenging process. Myers (1996) suggests challenges to this type of coordinated approach may arise with regard to the sharing of power and professional and personal

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accountability, from various parties not sharing the same understanding or analysis of the problem, and about whose understanding should take precedence. These types of challenges, and others, are acknowledged by Clark et al. (1996). They therefore offer numerous suggestions for ongoing development as communities begin to improve coordinated programs. These include the need for criminal justice agencies to work out protocols regarding response at each step in the process, defining roles, and improving agency-​wide responses (Beaudry-​Mellor, Theriault, & Gill, 2005). Service providers and advocates are advised to stay active and involved, to be inclusive, and to keep thinking about the best ways to help. Other agencies and stakeholders should understand the extent of domestic violence among their own clients, determine which agencies can best provide services to these clients, and commit to using the services of those with the most expertise. In a study of Canadian Catholic resources for domestic violence, almost all of the priests who took part in the research indicated that their role had changed dramatically in the past 50 years. In the early years of parish ministry, the priest had an extensive role: In addition to pastoral counseling of couples, he provided everything from legal to financial advice. Today, most of those social services have been taken over by government organizations and community agencies. Contemporary priests are clear that their role is primarily as spiritual leaders in churches as well as prison, hospital, high school, and university chaplaincies. Also in the past, communities of Catholic nuns created organizations such as schools and hospitals to enable Catholic women to respond to the social needs of their local contexts. As their membership has declined, many Catholic women’s orders have transferred the ownership of these institutions to provincial governments. One example is an agency created by nuns for helping families living with addictions using a family systems approach. The nonprofit organization still has two nuns working on the counseling staff. The agency works in partnership with the office of the Crown attorney, who makes referrals in order to divert families with addictions from directly entering the court system and to ease the burden on Child and Family Services. The parameters of the program on the impact of alcohol addiction on families are set by the Crown’s office and delivered by agency staff. A facilitator of the program explains: The message is that even though it may have only happened once where now you’ve been charged, you can look at the downstream effects and that one usually is a real eye opener. When we get to that point, that’s the one they remember because they see themselves in the situation and now that they’ve been charged and I hear things like, “I’ve only hit him once, yeah I only pushed her down the stairs, [or] I hit her with something once.” But now this is the flag on the field and if you don’t take responsibility for your life right now, the next time there is a charge it’s going to get worse and worse and worse. (Agency worker #3, Diocese #2) 8. Men who batter are not a uniform group: There are vast differences based on social class, ethnicity, labor force participation, region of the country in which they reside, and other personal and cultural factors. Like so many things in congregational life, there is not a “one-​size-​fits-​all” approach to ministering to men who have been, or are currently, abusive to their intimate partners.

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As discussed in Chapter 2 and previously in this one, there are some ground rules, including the following: • Violence is never part of God’s design for healthy family living. • Safety must be the first priority in responding to families impacted by abuse. • Religious leaders have a role to play in the lives of all family members, including both perpetrator and victim. • A coordinated community response seems to have the best chance of altering the abusive behavior of men who violate their intimate partners. When violence strikes the religious household and the abuser is a man of faith, there are some unique vulnerabilities and resources that come to the fore. Religious leaders who are trained to understand the dynamics of abuse are well positioned to add immeasurably to the journey of these men through the criminal justice processing and then toward justice, accountability, and change in their lives. At first blush, there are a number of very practical things that a congregation and its leadership can offer. First, physical space can be provided for the abuser to interact with his child or children in a supervised facility. This could be an informal arrangement in which a gymnasium is open for this purpose two or three afternoons/​evenings per week and on a weekend morning and a member of the staff (e.g., a youth pastor, a social work or ministry intern, or a trained group of volunteers) is present. It could be a more formal arrangement in which there is a memorandum of agreement between the congregation and the government for the provision of supervised visitation of a noncustodial parent with a protective order and all the checks and balances as identified by government-​supported best practices are in operation (security cameras, early check-in for the custodial parent dropping off the child, etc.). Second, congregations can offer social networks. One of the persistent messages from the interviews with men who have been, or are, abusive relates to the difficulty of establishing new friendships after violence—​friendships in which the difficult work to keep clean, sober, and abuse-​free are modeled and encouraged. It is very difficult work for a man who has lived dangerously most of his life to alter his patterns of interaction and to stop the behaviors that put himself and others in harm’s way. If there is any chance of success for him, there must be positive reinforcement for his hard work, regular celebrations of successes, however modest, and evidence of change. If he is filled with resentment toward his partner, resentment toward others who are helping to hold him accountable, and frustrated with those who are walking alongside him as he journeys toward change, he is very unlikely to succeed. However, that does not mean that those who have been assisting have failed. This is a very important point. By supporting a man who has been abusive to work toward change, even if the evidence of that change is modest, the impact of safety and respite on his family members is not. By helping to keep them safe from him—​even if the relationship has been formally dissolved—​those working with men who act abusively have made a very positive impact. Third, for men who are religious, it is essential that someone with spiritual credentials, such as a clergyperson or an imam, be part of their supportive team. Second chances, the possibility of change, and help to overcome can all be seen as gifts from God. For some abusive men, religion is important because it is important to other family members. For others, it is part of a broader coping strategy for dealing with life’s

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disappointments. Some men we have studied reconnected with God or their spiritual tradition while in prison. Although many might view this as opportunistic, the end result is that it provided an additional accountability structure, connecting them to a past in which religious practice was important and to a future in which second chances could turn a “Saul into Paul.” A B US ER S AND A WORD ABOUT THE C H I L D R E N

From the point of view of many of the abusive men we have interviewed, their children are pawns in the chess game of their lives. At the early stages, they were unwelcome distractions, demanding time, energy, and money; depriving them of sleep and sex; and, perhaps most important, depriving them of the unrelenting attention of their intimate partner, the child’s mother. In Men Who Batter (Nason-​Clark & Fisher-​ Townsend, 2015), we highlight how an early, unwanted pregnancy was believed by many of the men to chart the downward spiral of their lives. In a life that was believed to be spiraling out of control, they attempted to regain what they believed they were entitled to—​using their fists and their hateful words when they thought it would help them be successful. A few of the 55 men we interviewed told of the pain they experienced when their child called 911 or went to a neighbor’s house to ask that the police be called. On two occasions, we learned that the memory of the experience of a man watching his child watching him be handcuffed never goes away. On many occasions—​in focus groups, group meetings, and during interviews—​ we heard men make statements such as “I have become the father I hated.” There are several conclusions that one can draw from this. First, it offers further evidence of the intergenerational transmission of violence, a concept that has been well documented in the literature. Second, it highlights a very negative appraisal of both one’s past experiences with fatherhood and one’s present reality. Although it is a descriptive statement, it also implies a resignation—​this is how it is and I can do little to change it. Along with these heart-​wrenching snapshots of childhood that the men offered, they also talked about their own children in upbeat terms as they shared some of their own personal goals for the future. For many men, the possibility of reconnecting with their children, or improving their relationship with their children, offered motivation for doing the difficult work of change, including, but not limited to, regular attendance at group. In this way, the children were the carrots in their lives and stories, even as the intervention program and the courts were the sticks. As we heard men talk about their children, they did so by incorporating the entire gamut of emotions—​from tears to laughter; from sadness to hope. However, it must be remembered that many of these men also experienced or witnessed their own childhood abuse. Thus, they are remembering and telling stories from both their own childhood and the vantage point of the children they have fathered. Almost without exception, these points of connectedness to their children offer a sobering reminder of the impact of domestic violence on those who have lived with it within their family home. Two men we interviewed, in particular, come to mind as illustrations of the varied ways that domestic violence impacts the lives of children. One man, who had assumed responsibility for his abusive past and was working diligently to be held accountable for changed thinking and changed behavior, shared

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stories of his daughter for whom he now had custody. A recovering alcoholic and drug user (clean and sober for more than 5 years), he was remarried and living in a blended family situation. He met his new partner as he was volunteering to help build a stage set for his daughter’s drama performance at grade school. By many indicators, the daughter was doing very well, and he was proud of the fact that his resolve to change had helped to usher in a better life for her, living now apart from her mother (his ex) who was still drinking to excess and using illegal substances. Another man, whose children were now in their late teens, talked of the ongoing pain he felt when he visited his son at a juvenile detention center. Accepting only a modest responsibility for his own past abusive actions, and talking in a way that suggested he was exerting control in his current marriage, he conceded that this boy, his boy, was acting out much in the same way as he had done. This caused him sadness and remorse. C O N CL US ION

From the Abuser’s Perspective I am not violent. I want my family back. I want things to return to normal. Why won’t anyone listen to me? Why won’t my wife just do as I say and then everything would be fine? Why were the police called? Why do I have to come to group? Why am I being asked to change? Why won’t everybody just leave me alone? These are the statements we have heard men who are abusive say in our interviews, in focus groups, in their intervention programs, and to group facilitators. From the Pastor’s Perspective Responding as a pastor to the complex needs of abusive men requires tremendous wisdom, patience, and skill. There are many possible pitfalls and even dangers that can negatively affect the victim, the congregation, or the pastor. If a pastor does not understand the complexities of domestic violence, the abuser may successfully manipulate the pastor into seeing things in accordance with his distorted understanding of the dynamics of the family relationship. Because the abuser believes that his distorted understanding is reality, attempts to contradict his perspective may antagonize or anger him. When domestic violence is mixed with religious ideology, it can lead to the abuser either rejecting the pastor as spiritually inferior or actively campaigning against the pastor among members of the congregation (whom the abuser has also successfully manipulated). The pastor must also be aware that challenging the abuser may result in a violent response either toward the victim or other family members or even toward the pastor.

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For most pastors, an abusive person represents a lose–​lose situation. The pastor who chooses to reach out to help the abusive partner is in danger of being misunderstood and even condemned by the victim and her family and circle of friends in the congregation. The abuser may also respond angrily or aggressively to the pastor’s attempts to help. On the other hand, a failure to reach out to the abuser will be viewed as “taking sides,” especially when the extent of the abuse is unknown among people in the congregation who have believed the stories of the abuser. If the victim has spoken confidentially to the pastor, the pastor may not ethically correct the lies of the abuser without betraying confidences. For the pastor, any ongoing dialogue with the abuser will be emotionally draining and discouraging because real change will not take place in a matter of days, weeks, or months. Even when the pastor wisely has referred the abuser to a trained professional, any meaningful ongoing spiritual counsel by the pastor will mean challenging deep-​seated views of women and of marriage that are probably rooted in childhood. It will mean times of great encouragement as the abuser seeks to placate the pastor by making dramatic outward changes, followed by times of great discouragement when it becomes evident that those outward changes do not signal any real change in thinking or understanding. Pastors are already far busier than their congregations usually realize. They walk with people through tragedy and death, through sickness and suffering, through worry and disappointment, and through emotional pain. Religious leaders today lead their congregations during a time in which it seems that the rules have all changed and it takes far more work, thought, and energy to be an effective religious leader than it did when society more highly valued the church as a religious institution in the community. With the busyness, the stress, and the difficult work that pastors face, the thought of responding to the spiritual needs of an abuser can seem like an exercise in futility that will waste much time and energy with very little reward and with potential for catastrophe. Also, in most aspects of pastoral care, the pastor wants to involve other people in the congregation in the process: When people are ill or facing tragedy, the pastor seeks to mobilize the congregation to care in practical ways. In the case of an abuser, however, the pastor is more likely to think about how to protect others in the congregation from the abuser’s manipulation and deception. In addition, there is the added stress of the personal dynamics. Meeting with an abuser will at times fill a pastor with anger and disgust and cause tremendous frustration. In so many difficult pastoral situations (grief, tragedy, illness, and life transitions), the pastor has a strong sense that the work is worthwhile no matter how emotionally trying. Listening to the justifications of an abuser feels very different when the one the pastor is trying to help will not accept the reality that he is not the victim. The pastor must respond carefully when the abuser criticizes the victim or her family. The pastor must also take care not to break any confidences or to put the victim in danger (especially in situations in which the pastor knows the victim’s whereabouts or circumstances and the abuser does not). Concern for the victim’s safety must be paramount in the mind of the pastor. Finally, the pastor may fear that an ongoing pastoral relationship with the abuser would make reconciliation with the victim more likely (even if the pastor believes that reconciliation is unwise or even dangerous). If the victim knows that her husband is receiving ongoing spiritual guidance from the pastor, will she be more likely to return to a dangerous relationship even if the pastor counsels against it? Will the abuser use

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that very argument to entice her to return home? Is that, in fact, the real reason why the abuser is willing to meet with the pastor—​not to change but, rather, to make use of the pastor in his plans to manipulate? With all of these possible pitfalls, it might seem best for the pastor to ignore the abuser. However, for pastors who really take their calling seriously, ignoring the abuser is not an option. Pastors are called to love those who are difficult to love and also to provide hope in the face of hopelessness. In order to avoid a lose–​lose situation, pastors must follow a clear plan that includes appropriate referrals to trained professionals in the community, measures to ensure the safety of the victim, clear guidelines about the ongoing role of the pastor in the abuser’s life, and accountability with regard to the abuser’s honesty about the abuse that has taken place. From the Advocate’s Perspective To deal with domestic violence in the context of racialization and stereotyping of ethno-​ religious minority groups in Canada, particular groups have applied for government funding to establish organizations to provide culturally specific domestic violence services, particularly for victims. They claim that these services are necessary because the anti-​racist policies and practices of mainstream government-​funded agencies, the police, the criminal justice system, and shelters have been inadequate. The increased ethnic and racial diversity of professionals providing mainstream public services has not addressed the structural problems associated with the racialization of Canadian society. Members of community-​based organizations claim that they can provide “culturally sensitive and linguistically appropriate” domestic violence services (Agnew, 1998, p.  126). These organizations attempt to address and reduce domestic violence among members of their minority communities. Some provide cultural justifications for “traditional” gender roles, others acknowledge how the immigration and settlement process shifts gender roles in immigrant families, and still others provide an analysis and deconstruction of gender oppression according to cultural and religious norms for women and men. In whatever particular ways that culturally and ethnically specific community-​based organizations understand the roots of gender inequality and domestic violence within minority groups, men who act violently toward their spouses must be held accountable for their actions. Their actions must be condemned because violence against an intimate partner can never be justified religiously, ethnically, or culturally. In the case file analyses of men who were involved in state-​certified batterer intervention program mentioned at the outset of this chapter, it was found that men from visible minority groups were the least likely to complete the program. Thus, the particular ways in which minority men are held accountable to the process of change toward nonviolent and loving intimate relationships should include sensitivity of and respect for ethno-​religious and cultural differences. From the Criminal Justice Perspective Schnabl Schweitzer (2004) argues that faith communities have the unique language of theological discourse at their disposal in order to aid those involved in abusive

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relationships. The extension of this discourse into the therapeutic realm seems to provide credibility, assistance, and security to faith leaders, counseling professionals, and those approaching the issue from a criminal justice perspective. However, there is opposition to be dealt with. Just as credibility needs to be built within faith communities that make referrals, so too it must be developed in interactions with court personnel and community advocates. The executive director of one US agency describes how “there is a strong bias against Christians” within the criminal justice referral process and that the credibility of the agency was obtained “only through giving time, being there, getting training and sharing whatever we learn. Over time there has been confidence built in our expertise in knowing about these things and then our re-​arrest record is very good.” The bias can be overcome through positive interaction and results. Two US criminal justice employees, both of whom make referrals to a Christian agency, commented on their perceptions about the usefulness of clergy involvement with men who have acted abusively. One probation officer stated that “anybody who is involved with a priest or a pastor is going to have a lot more of their act together, probably a lot more to lose in life than some of these other guys that we run into.” Another probation supervisor agreed and said, It does make sense because right there they are saying that they are willing to communicate or listen to an authority figure. I mean I would assume that they are going to if they are involved with the church. . . . It implies to me that they are willing to accept some structure and that they have structure in their lives as opposed to the guys that are out there doing any kind of drugs that they can get ahold of. Additional criminal justice personnel, both in Canada and the United States, recognize the utility of harnessing a person’s faith or spirituality as an integral part of the person’s journey toward changed behavior. A Canadian judge mentioned that, when appropriate in addressing defendants in court, she does make reference to a person’s spiritual life: I want them to think that they are special and that I care. . . . Now I say whatever God means to you do not neglect the spiritual dimension of your life. The power to accept help appears to come from the spiritual inside you. An American judge also finds benefit in utilizing a person’s faith as an additional resource in the treatment process: “I really like the idea of using a person’s faith as a base for the treatment. It is a good hook in because you say okay you are a good Christian man—​let’s look at it.” In the case of aboriginal men who have acted abusively, numerous studies (Kiyoshk, 2003; Waldram, 1994) indicate that a focus on the spiritual and spirituality is a key component of intervention through healing. Kiyoshk argues that ritual is an important element of intervention because of the belief, in many indigenous cultures, that rituals influence spiritual energy. In a treatment program specifically designed for aboriginal men that operates in a western Canadian province, therapists report on different aspects of incorporating spirituality with rituals within the treatment program—​for

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example, “We bring in a feather as a way to start to build respect.” Adelson (2008) argues that healing can be accomplished through listening or through more traditional aboriginal methods such as the sweat lodge, smudging, drumming, or other ceremonies. There is a balance of the practical and the spiritual in that healing is carried out—​and always in progress—​through attention to both the secular and the sacred. (p. 20) Lauw, Spangaqro, Herring, and McNamara (2013) indicate that “there is a need for strategies to address abuse without disempowering and alienating aboriginal people” (p. 117). Dickson-​Gilmore (2014) relatedly argues that “partner and family violence in aboriginal settings has long presented unique challenges for communities and criminal justice” (p. 417). A holistic approach that addresses mind, body, and spirit is recognized as most useful with aboriginal offenders. However, a conventional adversarial-​based criminal justice response does not utilize this holistic approach. Culturally relevant approaches are absolutely necessary if treatment is to be successful. Thibodeau and Nixon (2013) argue that a shared worldview is necessary between offender and treatment provider—​one that respects the wisdom found in the medicine wheel. As a result, those working with aboriginal offenders and communities have viewed restorative justice measures as a criminal justice response—​one that focuses on healing and restoration through a holistic worldview (Reeves & Stewart, 2015; Riel, Languedoc, Brown, & Rodgers, 2016; van Wormer, 2009). Restorative justice initiatives have involved the development of holistic approaches that are perceived to be culturally appropriate; attentive to aboriginal notions of healing; and address the victim, the abuser, and the community in an integrated way. N O TE

1. This excellent publication is better known as the “Greenbook”; see Web-​Based Resources.

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Jim Sparks awoke early on Sunday morning, one of the many habits he had learned and then continued to practice from his seminary days. As he climbed out of bed and made his way to the kitchen for coffee, he noticed that little twinge in his stomach, a twinge that he often felt on Sunday mornings—​a mixture of anticipation and angst. As the senior pastor of a large community church, there was a lot riding on his shoulders on any given Sunday. And this Sunday especially! Approximately 6 months ago, Jim decided that he would dedicate one Sunday during October as Family Violence Awareness Sunday. He shared his plan with a few colleagues, church staff, and those with whom he worked in the community. Some advised against it, whereas others thought it was courageous. Now, in the early hours, he wondered whether he was being progressive or foolhardy. After a few sips of coffee, he bowed his head to ask God for strength and wisdom as he prepared himself for the services of the morning. Sitting alone at the kitchen table, in a spirit of prayer, faces of women and men in the congregation began to flash before him. Mary, Olive, Ben, the Smiths, the Grover girls, old Mrs. Greencorn. At first, he was troubled by this parade of people interrupting his prayer time. Then, as if God had spoken, he realized these were some of his congregation who had sought his help for issues related to domestic violence. He then focused on the people, one at a time, soothed by the memory of his interaction with them. First in the lineup was Mary, the young mother who always seemed so “on edge.” It was true, she was walking on eggshells at home. Oh how good that he had asked about her life that day he found her staring into space in the church lobby. How wonderful that she was willing for him to call the shelter and then pass the phone to her. He wondered where she was now, if she even went to church anymore.

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Next was Olive, dear Olive. How beautiful she was in her prime, but how very crippled now at the age of 87 years. And losing her memory and her dignity too. Oh how sad. Yes, her son may seem to be very interested in her when she has her checkbook in hand, but was it the right decision to sign over her house to him? Jim tried to warn her, but the best he could do was to suggest that there was something put in writing about “their arrangement.” He wondered whether she ever sought the legal advice he had suggested. Peering almost over Olive’s shoulder was Ben. Big, bad, Ben. He was a man in the process of transformation—​shedding his hateful cocoon and becoming a caring man and father. What a shame it took him so very long to recognize all the harm he had done. And so like his own dad! Jim wondered about Ben’s children and his ex, Jennifer, now attending another church in town. Yes, he had ensured that it was safe for them all to go to church by helping Jenn and the children find another place to worship. He was a shepherd that had sent a few from his flock to someone else’s fold to ensure the safety and healing of them all. Yes, that was the right thing to do. Ben was followed by Gary and Marg Smith. The Smiths, a fine family, very devoted to the work of the church, a couple who encouraged Jim to speak to the youth pastor about this young man’s inappropriate flirting with the girls at youth activities. How close Jim had come to telling them to mind their own business affairs and not to meddle in those for which he was responsible. What a disaster that would have been if he had been unkind to them only to find out a year later that he had to fire the youth pastor for misconduct. That was a close call, he thought, far too close for his personal comfort. The thought of it caused a slight shiver. Next were the Grover girls—​three lovely children who were brought to the church by their single parent mother. He had encouraged his wife to ask the mother whether the congregation could offer her any practical or emotional support. And how surprising the answer. “Just a ministry opportunity someday to help other women who have been abused!” Jim was so thankful that he had contacted her some months ago as he was preparing today’s service. And she was so pleased. A warm glow replaced the shiver. As Mrs. Greencorn, Ella to her friends, came into view, Jim drained his coffee mug and rose to pour another half a cup. Oh, she would be a problem today. She was always finding fault. Always ready to pick a fight, in the name of the Lord! A grimace crossed Jim’s face. He would have a word with her before the service began. Perhaps he would ask her to check to make sure there were enough shoe-​cards in the women’s washroom. He thought about her grown daughter—​the one about whom Ella had once said, “She has made her bed, now she has to lie in it!” And then said many months later, “Pastor, help me to help my daughter. And please pray that she will forgive me for not understanding.” Yes, everyone in the parade had been impacted by domestic violence. And in some small way, Jim had been of support to them all. He rose from his kitchen table grateful that God had brought each one to mind. And pleased that he had been able to be of some small help. For there were times when he felt that he was unable to be of assistance, or lacked wisdom or strength or patience. Like Ella, there were times he did not understand what was lurking behind closed doors. He was grateful that God had not brought some of those folks to mind.

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Empowered by the parade of people marching before him, Jim took two stairs at a time as he climbed to their second floor, woke his wife as he passed her a cup of coffee, and headed for the shower. Today’s service might not be to everyone’s liking, but it would certainly touch some people . . . some who needed to be stirred into action, or those who could use a little mending of their own broken hearts. Hours later, driving home from the morning’s two services, Jim’s mind was flooded by the varied reactions to Family Violence Awareness Sunday. There were those who had congratulated him at the door for his bravery, like Mr. Black, a retired teacher, or Karen White, the young social worker who had recently started attending the early morning service. Then there were those who smirked as they shook his hand, like two of the deacons, who said almost in unison, “We need to talk,” and reminded him that there was a board meeting on Thursday evening. “Was this service an example of encouraging men to come to church?” he overheard one say to the other before they both broke into a chuckle en route to their respective cars. As he rounded the corner and pulled into his driveway, Jim was reflecting on the fact that two workers from the shelter had come to the later service. He heard a beep and saw that the youth pastor had just sent him a text. It read: Meet me later this afternoon? One of the youth disclosed that she was sexually assaulted after Friday night’s event at the Bowl-​a-​rama. Said your message encouraged her to come forward. Tears began to form in the corner of Jim’s eyes. He knew God had helped him this morning. He was confident that holding the service was the right thing to do. But, he was very keenly aware, too, that the week ahead was going to be very, very challenging. He opened the car door and then reminded himself of the roast his wife had put in the oven before church. Yes, it was now time to enjoy Sunday dinner. FAMILY VIOLE NCE AWARE NE SS SUNDAY

Raising awareness about family violence in a designated Sunday morning service, like Jim did in his church, takes much thought and preparation. It is not without its challenges, but its potential for meeting the needs of those who are hurting is tremendous, and it opens wide many ministry opportunities. There are a number of points embedded in the opening story that deserve further comment. Planning is a very important component of this kind of initiative—​Jim began 6 months before the event. He used his networks in the local community and within church circles to announce what he was planning. This gave workers in the domestic violence community ample time to “save the date” or to agree to set up a table about their agency in the church’s foyer. He organized a planning meeting with six community-​based “experts,” and had the working lunch at his church. This brought several police, advocacy workers, social workers, as well as parole and probation officers into his church facility for the very first time. He sought their advice, asked for their support, and invited two of the workers—​one of whom was the director of the women’s shelter—​to participate. Next, Jim met with his staff to talk about how plans were proceeding and to identify whether there were any men or women in his congregation who might have professional expertise on this issue. They suggested that the leader of the women’s Bible study be consulted, as well as a parish nurse and a family lawyer. Dot, who served as

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a parish nurse in an Episcopal church in a neighboring community, mentioned that it was important to highlight the issue of elder abuse. Karen, who represented many women seeking divorce, believed it was important to have a private, quiet room designated for anyone who might need to leave the service because they were overcome with emotion. As was his practice at the monthly board meetings, Jim announced that there would be several “special” community-​outreach services during the following year and listed the Family Violence Awareness Sunday as one of them. He believed it was unwise to seek input at the meeting because he was sure that there would be one or two board members who disagreed with the initiative. By raising it as an upcoming event, he was enabling them to talk to him privately if they had concerns. Jim was aware that the follow-​up to the event would be very important. He kept two afternoons the week following the service “open” so that he could respond immediately to any women or men who might ask to set up an appointment to see him. He asked Louise, the church administrative assistant, to ensure that the brochures about abuse (and contact information for the shelter) were in ample supply and to keep on file any information from the various agencies that they were willing to leave after the service. He sent e-​mails to the leaders of various home groups reminding them of confidentiality should anyone disclose in that setting that they had been impacted by domestic violence. Also, he sent personal hand-​written thank-​you notes to the community-​based workers who participated in the service, stood behind the tables, or came in support of the initiative. Services at Jim’s congregation lasted 75 minutes—​with every minute accounted for well in advance. Jim decided that his 30-​minute sermon would be divided equally among three points: recognizing and understanding the issue, responding with compassion to those impacted, and supporting abuse-​free family living. He used an Old Testament reading to highlight the importance of every sheep to the shepherd, and he used a New Testament reading to highlight the need to care for one’s neighbor. In his sermon, and in the projected slides that accompanied it, he listed several Bible passages that reveal God’s call for peace and safety in the home. He considered that perhaps this was the most important takeaway message for his congregation: Abuse does not fit with God’s design for family life. Because he could not mention everything that was important about abuse in his sermon, Jim’s pastoral prayer mentioned specifically the youth who might be in unhealthy dating relationships and women who were currently seeking refuge at the local shelter together with their children. He also mentioned in his prayer the need for repentance—​that the church, and even this congregation, had neglected to reach out to those who were suffering and for this they were very sorry. With God’s help, they wanted to do much more in the future to help those impacted by abuse. At the close of the service, when he was pronouncing the benediction, Jim admonished everyone present to examine themselves to determine if there were abusive ways in their own hearts. Then he invited anyone who needed to seek church assistance on this or any other issue to call the church office. He did not want to identify before others a group of people swarming around him at the front of the sanctuary following the service. Jim and his wife Sue did not walk to the back of the church to shake hands, as was their normal practice, because he wanted to encourage as many as were able to walk around and see the visitors from the various community-​based agencies before leaving the church.

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T HE CONGR EGATION AS A CHURCH FA MI LY

Throughout the years, we have worked with religious leaders from many different religious traditions. Some lead large congregations, similar to Jim’s, where the church buildings form “campuses” that include schools, a gymnasium, day care facilities, and ample space for fellowship and food preparation. Other congregations are small by comparison—​a few dozen people who meet in a building that is in constant need of repair. In between these contrasting visual images is a broad range, but what is almost always present is the desire for community and connection among those who believe the congregation is part of who they are. We have learned a great deal about congregational life using divergent methodologies to collect data from women and men connected with congregations. We have heard from many pastors through survey and interview experiences. We have taught pastors and offered countless workshops and training opportunities for them on the subject of abuse. Also, we have listened as men and women talk about the counsel they have received from pastors and the support that has been offered by other men and women who attend churches and other houses of worship. At its best, congregational life operates as a family in which members celebrate with those who are joyous and weep with those who are suffering. They offer assistance, guidance, and friendship. They worship together and seek to live their lives according to principles that they share. At its worst, congregational life operates as a dysfunctional family in which controlling, abusive behavior abounds, support is non-​existent, jealousy and rivalry flourish, and isolation and loneliness prevail. S EEK ING HELP FROM  THE CONGRE G AT I O N A ND ITS L EADE RSHIP

It is important to consider what is needed when a man or a woman connected with a congregation is impacted by intimate partner violence or other forms of family abuse. Of course, there cannot—​and should not—​be a cookie-​cutter approach to this or any other form of suffering. However, there are some critical principles to be observed. Victims need to be believed, their stories heard. This is a very important part of their own healing journey—​telling their story. As a pastoral counselor, a participant in a small group, or a member of a congregation, your role is not that of a judge in a court of law. On the contrary, first and foremost, you are there to listen, affirm, support, and encourage. Avoid asking questions that suggest the victim caused the abuse and focus on what is being shared with you. The most important issue is safety, and if you are to ask any questions at all, beyond clarification of what is being shared, they must be about whether she feels safe: Has her safety been compromised, is she fearful, or has she been hurt or threatened? An empathic listener is a wonderful gift to anyone, but it is especially so to someone whose life has been torn asunder by abuse. Sometimes a person will be looking for permission to seek help, and this is especially true in a congregational setting, in which the victim or the abuser may believe that talking to an unbeliever (or someone outside of their own faith) is inappropriate or harmful. Relevant referral suggestions might be appropriate, but not everyone will know what might be appropriate or when the best moment to suggest a referral might be. It is

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important to remember that suggesting the person talk to someone else might be interpreted as not being willing to listen yourself. This is certainly a message a religious leader would not want anyone in the congregation to receive. When referral suggestions are offered, it is often a good idea to suggest that the person may need to seek out a number of different agencies/​professionals before he or she finds the right person. Although this is unwelcome information, often it is critical because sometimes a referral does not work out, the person’s waiting list is too long, he or she is not a good match for the person seeking help, or he or she is inattentive to the religious identity of the person seeking help. C O N GR EGATIONAL LIFE

There is a substantial research literature on congregational life—​its growth, decline, vitality, leadership, and impact. A number of contemporary scholars, such as Nancy Ammerman, Mark Chaves, Penny Edgell, and Robert Wuthnow, have demonstrated that congregations, although religious in character, affect far more than just the religious beliefs and practices of members. Religious congregations are dynamic and complex communities in which people construct social identities and grapple with the challenges and opportunities of life. In these faith communities, people make sense of their world—​their circumstances, their vocations, their ethnicity, and their relationships, including dating and marriage and family relationships. As Ammerman (2014) states, “Just as sacred and secular intertwine in homes and workplaces, they form a complicated mixture in religious gatherings as well. . . . It is not just that people take religion into everyday life; they also take everyday life into religion” (p. 201). In a local congregation, that complicated mixture includes perceived gender roles, understandings of justice, and conceptions of marriage and family. Edgell (2006) has documented the multifaceted ways in which families and congregations intersect amid today’s changing religious and cultural landscape, noting that “religious institutions provide support for the moral socialization of children and a family-​centered lifestyle” (p.  29). Chaves (2004) emphasizes the community-​serving focus of many congregations, stating that “contemporary concern with social service efforts continues a long-​standing preoccupation among religious leaders and others with congregations’ response to the neediest segments of the communities in which they are located” (p. 6). That community-​serving focus positions congregations to respond to social needs of families within the faith community as well as in the wider community. These scholars also challenge the idea that secularization has marginalized congregational life. As society changes, religious congregations are certainly experiencing a major restructuring, but that restructuring does not diminish the importance of local congregations for church members. Some scholars have focused on the revitalization of congregational life, arguing that what should be noteworthy is the remarkable stability and persistence of vital congregations in the face of an increasingly secular environment (Wuthnow, 2006, p.  2). That stability is particularly impressive in light of the decline of most other social institutions (Putnam, 2000; Wuthnow, 2006, p. 7). Because local congregations have persisted more than other groups in the changing social environment, and because they play such an important role in members’ understandings of relationships in general and of marriage and family in particular, it is easy

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to understand why they can have an important influence in preventing, addressing, and responding to domestic violence. In this chapter, we focus on the challenges and opportunities provided by congregational life. We highlight the central role of the religious leader in offering a context in which abuse is condemned and appropriate compassion, referrals, and supportive services are offered to those who are impacted by abuse—​the abused as well as the abuser. However, the religious leader does not normally act alone: There is also a vital role for various organizations within the congregation, as well as engaged men and women who are supportive of the mission. UNDER STA NDING THE  CHALLE NGE S

In Chapter  2, we focused on Patty and other women like her who find solace and respite in their religious faith when abuse strikes at home. In Chapter 3, we highlighted the needs represented by those who act abusively, like Scott. Often underserviced in the community context, we argued that religious leaders can be an important source of accountability for them on the road to justice and change. As we develop the challenges and opportunities for congregations in this chapter, we need to be mindful that it is not possible for one congregation to go it alone or to be an island unto itself. Congregations are part of larger communities, and they need to both contribute to those communities and draw on community resources as they respond to issues within congregational life. Nowhere is this truer than in response to intimate partner violence. Challenges for Congregations Related to Abuse 1. Congregations and their leaders often underestimate the prevalence and severity of abuse within their own membership and even within the communities of which they are a part. There is great resistance among many highly religious people to accept that the frequency, severity, and longer term consequences of domestic violence are similar inside and outside of congregational life. In one of our clergy studies involving more than 500 pastors, we found that they underrepresented the rate among “the faithful” by a wide margin. In focus groups with church women, it was often noted that women were frustrated with their leaders, whom the women believed did not understand “how common abuse was even in our own church.” It is a “not in my backyard” reaction for sure. Perhaps we should not be surprised that this view exists. Most people of faith cling to the notion that as a group, their congregation or their faith community lives life differently as a result of their belief system. In some ways, there is a lot riding on the notion that beliefs change people’s behavior. Thus, although it is an important statistical question of actual rates—​w hat percentage of women in my congregation have been abused—​w hat we know is that if we believe they are lower in our own congregation, we are less likely to do something about it and more likely to heap guilt on any woman whose life has been so impacted.

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Based on data collected in 78 countries, the World Health Organization (2013) estimates that the global lifetime prevalence rate for physical or sexual violence experienced with an intimate partner is approximately 30%. This does not include other forms of intimate partner violence, such as financial and emotional abuse, isolation, or threats of violence, all of which are known to often accompany the cycle of domestic violence that occurs between couples. Variations in the prevalence rate of domestic violence occur both within and between countries. Factors that are used to explain these variations include economic and cultural factors as well as social norms that support a culture of violence against women, ongoing exposure of children to violence against women, family law frameworks that discriminate against women, and unequal access to education and employment opportunities for women. There is consensus among researchers that the high prevalence rates of domestic violence point to a global social problem. A few studies in the United States have explored variations in rates of domestic violence due to religious factors. Ellison, Bartkowski, and Anderson (1999) found no denominational differences in the perpetration of domestic violence. Based on the first wave of the National Survey of Families and Households, the study found that religious conservatism is not linked to higher rates of domestic violence. The study did find that men who attend religious services frequently, a common characteristic associated with religious conservatives, are less likely to perpetrate violence than those who are less frequently engaged in public religious services. Regular participation in activities associated with religious congregations, such as engaging in worship, listening to sermons, and involvement in formal and informal social activities organized by congregations, acts as a protective factor from domestic violence perpetration. Theological differences within couples were identified as risk factors in that men who were more theologically conservative than their wives were more likely to perpetrate domestic violence compared to men who shared similar theological views with their wives, regardless of whether the views were conservative or liberal. Theological differences were associated by the researchers with differences in values and lifestyles. In another study using the same data (Ellison, Trinitapoli, Anderson, & Johnson, 2007), the previous results concerning the protective effects of regular engagement in religious activities were tested for differences according to race and ethnicity. Some research in the United States has shown that rates of domestic violence are higher among African and Hispanic Americans, but it is unclear whether or not these results are linked to a range of socioeconomic factors that members of these groups face. The results of the study showed that religion has a protective effect for men in these minority groups, especially in the case of African American men who frequently attend religious services. The authors argue that beyond the pro-​social behaviors promoted by religious congregations, regular engagement with religious groups can promote prayerfulness, positive religious coping, and self-​discipline, which may also mitigate against domestic violence perpetration (Ellison et al., 2007, p. 1107). 2. Sometimes, friendship and family relationships within congregations make it especially difficult to respond in privacy, ensuring confidentiality, to women or men who are impacted by abuse, whether as victims or as abusers. In many congregations, there is a web of connections drawing people to each other. Some of those bonds are related to blood relationships, some to choices of partners or

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friends, and some to the variety of groups or ministries to which one is connected. In smaller rural churches, or in areas of the country where people are less likely to move away from or move to, these patterns can be much more distinct. Family and friendship ties create loyalty, but they are also a breeding ground for gossip and jealousy. When a person who is well known or well liked or related to many people is abusive, it is very challenging for the pastor who has been called upon to assist the abused wife. He can find himself stepping on toes he did not even know existed. In a small church, a car in the church parking lot in the middle of the afternoon can result in calls from one person to another: “What was Sally’s red Corolla doing at the church after lunch today?” Or perhaps the abuser holds a church office such as treasurer. After a conviction of domestic violence by the courts, the minister may ask for his resignation. Other family members may object: “If he is removed from that job that has been held by one of our family for three generations, then I am no longer going to pay my tithe.” Although these situations may seem extreme, they illustrate why it is very important to have policies and guidelines related to how to respond with compassion and best practices in cases involving abuse.1 From a pastoral perspective, there are several measures that may be helpful for religious leaders who are fearful of addressing domestic violence or of responding to the needs of a victim within the congregation. First, before addressing domestic violence in a sermon or even in policies, take time to know what you are talking about. Do not simply condemn domestic violence—​help people understand what it is and why it should be a concern to the church. Help people understand that you are not criticizing or condemning people from having normal conflict or disagreements in their families—​that does not constitute domestic violence. Define domestic violence clearly in terms of power and control. Second, refer specifically and clearly to scripture. The Bible refers often to violent households—​the vast majority of families in the Bible are dysfunctional and there are many examples of violence in families—​and the Bible unequivocally condemns such violence. By basing one’s arguments on scripture, it is not just an issue about which the pastor has an opinion. It is an issue for all who wish to be faithful to the scriptures. Third, it is helpful to address domestic violence in a wider context. It is beneficial to tie the church’s response to a denominational emphasis on domestic violence, to refer to literature or online resources provided by the denomination, or to refer to a broader faith perspective. Emphasize ties with denominational leaders or policies and connections with community resources. Fourth, think about what policies need to be in place before those policies are needed. It is far easier to consider and implement good policies before an incident happens than to have to respond to individuals with no policies in place. Good policies are best formulated and approved in the context of the best practices instead of in an atmosphere of crisis in which particular family dynamics are part of the discussion. Fifth, do not pander to the influential group. When people threaten, it is important to be gracious and kind while at the same time focusing on how best to provide safety for victims and potential victims. People may oppose an initiative to address domestic violence for a number of reasons, including fears about their own safety or the safety of a family member. Assure them that the topic will be addressed with wisdom and grace while at the same time emphasizing that the topic must be addressed. Finally, use resources from larger churches. Leaders in small congregations may believe that if they address domestic violence, they will not have adequate resources

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to respond to the needs of people within their own congregation or in the surrounding community. In those circumstances, it is often wise for such congregations to partner with a larger congregation that has resources that can be shared. 3. Sometimes congregations and their leaders are skeptical of sources of help outside their religious enclave or their congregation. They want to solve all of their own problems without outside intervention. Help-​seeking behavior depends on a variety of factors, and in congregational life, pastors and other religious leaders are often the gatekeepers to other sources of help. This operates in a number of different ways. It may be that individual men and women in the congregation do not believe that those outside their religious community can understand or deal appropriately with the problems being experienced. From this perspective, the issue is a lack of cultural competence on the part of the helping professionals at the community level. It may be that the congregational leadership does not want any of the men and women associated with it to share information with outside sources of help, believing that this reflects poorly on the group or its ability to solve problems on its own without outside interference. From this perspective, the issue is a lack of trust with the mainstream community or a desire to minimize problems within the congregational context. It is interesting that many people who would have no reservation going to see a secular dentist or surgeon are reluctant to seek social/​psychological/​emotional support from outside their community of faith. Sometimes members of faith communities are skeptical of secular sources of help, fearing that they have let down the congregation if they seek help from non-​believers for an emotional or family problem, even though they themselves would be willing to do so. As a consequence, they experience both the fear and the reality of rejection by some members of the congregation when failure of the marriage (rather than existence of abuse) becomes known. For many new immigrants, religious groups play a significant social role in the early days, months, and years of settlement in a new society. Religious congregations not only provide spiritual support for the challenges that new immigrants face but also provide a host of pragmatic supports, including helping to find housing; assisting with transportation; introducing families to the new educational and health care systems; helping them navigate the immigration bureaucracy; providing furniture, clothing, and school supplies; offering help in finding employment; and creating opportunities for formal and informal language learning. This is particularly the situation when individuals or groups, such as migrant workers, undocumented persons, or the spouses of international students, are ineligible for government-​funded settlement services. The influx of new immigrants in Canada, in particular, has enabled minority religious groups to grow rapidly and has assisted some mainstream Christian denominations in staving off decline. In some ways, immigrants are part of a resurgence of religion in contemporary Canadian society (Bramadat, 2008). The generosity that some religious groups shower on new immigrants may inadvertently make immigrant women hesitant to disclose situations of domestic violence for fear that this may damper the collective enthusiasm regarding their transition to life in Canada. If the abuser is a Canadian-​born member of the religious group, the immigrant woman may feel even more pressure not to tell anyone what is happening to her. Members of religious organizations who support recent immigrants also develop

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close personal and spiritual bonds with them. They feel protective of the vulnerable people in their midst. Those who lack an understanding of the dynamics of domestic violence and their dangers may be hesitant to refer abused immigrant women to secular service providers, believing that they too can fill the gap when public domestic violence services are underresourced or culturally insensitive. 4. Sometimes both the abused and the abuser are participants in the life of the congregation. When a couple seeks help for a “troubled” relationship, it is important for a pastor to meet individually with both the man and the woman after the first time meeting with them together. Without the partner present, the man or the woman may be free to say things that he or she would not disclose with the other one present. It is important for a pastor to separately ask the woman and the man if either one is ever frightened of the partner’s anger, whether either one has ever been harmed emotionally or physically, or whether there has ever been an argument that escalated out of control. It is very important to assess safety and the presence of abuse before agreeing to see a couple for relationship counseling. If the woman’s partner is abusive, she would not be able to say so in a setting in which he is present. To do so would jeopardize her own safety, and the possibility of retaliation when they return home would be a concern. Sometimes a woman seeks help on her own from the pastor about an intimate relationship. In these contexts too it is important to ask questions that would enable the pastor to assess whether safety is a concern and whether abuse is present. Not all relationship problems involve abuse, but many do. Also, many women are reluctant to name what is happening in the relationship as abuse. Sometimes a man will seek help on his own from the pastor after his partner has left or sought refuge in a shelter or other safe place. He will often want forgiveness for his wrongdoing and help to “get her to come home.” It is never advisable to see partners together, or both partners separately, in an ongoing counseling capacity if abuse is currently occurring in the relationship. It is not safe for the victim, who is usually the woman. It is usually advisable for pastoral counselors to continue to see the partner with whom they have the best, or longest, working relationship and to refer the other partner to someone else either on their ministry team or to a religious leader in another like-​minded congregation. 5. Sometimes congregations and their leaders are unable to set appropriate boundaries, or are even manipulated, in their work with victims or their abusers. Although there is scant evidence that religious leaders dismiss a woman victim’s call for help or minimize the need for safety for her and her children, pastors can find themselves in situations in which a family member in crisis is making unreasonable demands on them or on congregational resources. Therefore, it is very important to set appropriate boundaries and expectations about what can be done and by whom. In our fieldwork throughout the years, we have heard many stories from pastors about abusive men who manipulated them or about men who unsuccessfully tried to manipulate them. However, sometimes women victims can also make unreasonable demands

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on the pastoral staff or the congregation they attend. This is why it is very important to be part of a collaborative community response as one responds to women, men, and families. Congregations and their leaders have knowledge and resources that enable them to address the spiritual angst and religious questions that surface in the aftermath of violence: They do not have police-​protected facilities in which they can provide accommodation for women fleeing abusive partners, nor are they able to meet all the economic, legal, or psychological needs that may have surfaced for the family members. Pastors also need to take care that they and the congregation are not manipulated by the abusers. Especially when a victim has decided to leave the abuser, the abuser may attempt to provide a very different story to the pastor and to members of the congregation or may attempt to get people (including the pastor) to take his side. Because abusive people have much experience at manipulating the truth, they can be very persuasive. 6. Sometimes the congregation is ill-​equipped to respond to all the needs presented by the abused and the abuser as they seek help. Congregations differ because the skills and knowledge and number of people within them differ. The needs presented by women and men when violence strikes their intimate relationships also differ. Some women are more resilient in the face of enormous obstacles, and some women have greater personal and familial resources that they can call on when impacted by abuse. Depending on some of a woman’s personal demographics, she may be especially vulnerable, and she may lack the support of her family or be isolated from friends in ways that are no fault of her own. Regardless, the needs of violated women differ, although many experiences are common to most abused women. To be believed, accepted, affirmed, and cared for as a “child of God” is within the purview of every congregation to provide to an abused woman. After her personal safety has been ensured—​and this is always the first priority—​she will have many questions, some of them linked to her spiritual life. Her questions are important and must be taken seriously, even if there is no one who can directly or adequately respond to them. Every congregation can have some material resources on hand, suggestions, or websites to which a woman can be directed. Most communities, even rural ones, have a community access center or a library where the woman can use the Internet if it is not safe for her to do so at home or if she does not have access to a personal laptop or computer. However, the woman may have needs such as supervised visitation for her children with their father, employment or educational challenges, financial hardship, mental health risks or vulnerabilities, and other problems and concerns that far exceed the congregation’s ability to respond. Some of her needs relate to the criminal justice processing of her case. The challenges for women victimized by violence are many, and they become especially evident in the criminal justice adjudication phase. Part of our research program entailed sitting in on several specialized domestic violence courts and observing well over 100 cases being processed. While doing so, one issue that stood out was that the men who had been charged with domestic violence were quite often accompanied by an array of supportive individuals, including friends, co-​workers, and, most

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important, clergy and faith community members. In one particularly busy courtroom, the accused were directed to sit to the left side of the seating area, and the women who had been victimized sat on the right. It was an amazing sight because we did not observe one woman with any supporters from her faith community or any other group; these women sat alone, heads down, often weeping. The supporters were always by the side of the men. This phenomenon was recognized by two of the judges with whom we spoke: One noted his disappointment with faith community members and clergy because they always sat with and supported the perpetrators; another said that he had misgivings about clergy appearing for the men because the clergy often made statements such as “This is a good guy” and “We will take care of this.” Women feel abandoned in their time of need (Knickmeyer, Levitt, Horne, & Bayer, 2003). Other researchers have found that women interacting with the criminal justice system in cases of domestic violence face many personal and systemic obstacles (Bennett, Goodman, & Dutton, 1999; Ventura & Davis, 2005). The most prevalent barrier was fear of retaliation by batterers (Dawson & Dinovitzer, 2001; Epstein, Bell, & Goodman, 2003; Wolf, Ly, Hobart, & Kernic, 2003). Women victims are extremely vulnerable regardless of the response of the criminal justice system. Just as they are at greater risk if prosecution is not pursued, because of their intimate connection with the perpetrators, they are also at great risk if prosecution proceeds (Epstein et  al., 2003). Hartman and Belknap (2003) note that the court officials in their research indicated that 17.1% of victims were threatened by defendants in an attempt to coerce them not to testify. In addition to the fear of retaliation, women face problems getting time off work, wanting to work things out with the batterer, pressure from his family or friends, previous bad experiences with the court, problems with child care, pressure from her family or friends, transportation problems, and fear of being arrested herself (Wolf et al., 2003). Other personal variables have been identified as obstacles as well, such as having a substance abuse problem and, importantly, lack of social support from friends and family (Bennett et al., 1999). Those working in the field recognize that domestic violence will not end after the initial crisis has been dealt with. Thus, long-​lasting measures, such as no-​contact orders, must be implemented. However, one judge, in a state where mandatory no-​ contact orders are put in place when men are deemed guilty, told us of the many women who visit his office and plead for these orders to be rescinded. Their argument most often is that these men are the supporters of the family and they cannot survive financially without that support. In addition, there is no contact or only very limited supervised contact with the children who miss their fathers and no day-​to-​day emotional support available to the women who are suddenly lone parents. All of this points to the complexity of thinking about the best interests of the children. Certainly, the many consequences of domestic violence do include factors such as suffering financial hardships. If the main source of support is not available, then the family will indeed suffer with loss of income. In addition, women who have been victimized and whose partners are adjudicated within the criminal justice system may lose their employment. There are several reasons this might happen. One tactic of abusive men is to harass their partners at their places of employment through strategies such as repeated telephone calls or showing up at the workplace and causing a disturbance. In addition, when cases last months and there are numerous court

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appearances, the victims miss much work time because they must be available for the court appearances. Another reason is the emotional and physical toll the violence has on victims and the resulting absences from work due to sickness. Finally, the safety of co-​workers has to be taken into account by employers. For all these reasons, women often find their employment—​their source of income—​terminated (Katula, 2012). One other important point is that when women leave their homes due to abuse, they often also leave behind substantial tangible resources, such as clothing, household materials, and important documents. This, too, adds to their financial burden in the time of crisis. Another issue that victimized women often have to deal with is supervised visitation or safe exchange between their children and the father who has acted abusively. In the midst of crisis in their lives, victimized women are often court-​mandated to provide visitation rights to the father who has acted abusively; imagine the anxiety this would provoke—​anxiety exacerbated by continued battering during separation (Fleury, 2000; Hardesty, 2002). Parker et al. (2008) describe some of the battering techniques employed by men enrolled in supervised visitation. For example, the man may change a visit time to when he knows his partner is not available, accompanied by the threat of filing contempt charges with the court if she does not make the children available at the new time; constantly interrogate crisis center workers for information related to the victim; act sullen and withdrawn rather than play with the children; and use various other tactics designed to remind the victim that he is still in control. The physical and emotional safety of both children and women must be priorities in visitation/​exchange situations. There are numerous possible scenarios in which safety may be compromised, and this understanding is another psychological burden for women who are constantly looking over their shoulders. In a well-​known case from Tacoma, Washington, in 2003, after suffering years of abuse and filing for divorce, a young mother was shot and killed by her estranged husband, the police chief of Tacoma, who subsequently shot and killed himself. This occurred during an exchange of the children for visitation, and those children, aged 5 and 8 years, were witness to the murder of their mother and the suicide of their father. Several researchers have identified post-​traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) as a common mental health issue related to intimate partner violence (Golding, 1999; Jones, Hughes, & Unterstaller, 2001). They estimate that between 31% and 84% of women who have experienced intimate partner violence meet diagnostic criteria for PTSD. In fact, PTSD is the mental health consequence most frequently associated with intimate partner violence. This is important in many ways, but perhaps the most important is that research demonstrates a correlation between PTSD and re-​abuse. It is posited that both the emotional numbing and the hyperarousal symptoms desensitize victims to potentially dangerous situations (Messman-​Moore & Long, 2003). Women without sufficient therapeutic and social support are thus especially vulnerable to continued abuse. The needs are many and the resources sporadic—​leaving both victimized women and children truly vulnerable. Families sometimes turn their backs on women who decide to leave rather than continue to live with abuse. Clergy members who believe that families must be kept together even in situations of abuse may deny assistance to those who are victimized. Criminal justice responses such as no-​contact orders are often violated by perpetrators, and police response is minimal. Sherman, Schmidt, and Rogan (1992) refer to protective orders in the United States as “a hoax on the victims, a promise to protect them that will not be kept” (p. 238). Clearly, there is a

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great need for enhanced and prolonged assistance for those victimized by intimate partner violence. 7. Sometimes pastors or religious leaders are ill-​equipped to respond to the needs of families who seek their help in the aftermath of domestic violence, both victims and abusers. If a woman of faith turns first to others in community-​based agencies for help in the aftermath of intimate partner abuse, it is likely that her spiritual needs will not be addressed in a comprehensive manner, if at all. If a woman of faith turns first to others in her congregation for help in the aftermath of domestic violence, they are likely to suggest that she seek help from the church leadership or, specifically, the pastor or priest. In many situations, she would have turned to her religious leader early on if she was confident that the leader was knowledgeable about issues of domestic violence and had particular resources to bring to any conversations they might have and/​or if the pastor or rabbi had mentioned in any public contexts that this was an issue of great importance. As we discuss in several contexts throughout this book, the lack of knowledge among religious leaders about the prevalence and severity of intimate partner violence, coupled with their lack of experience in offering referral resources, means that many religious leaders do not want those in their congregations impacted by domestic violence to seek their help. For some ministers, it is simply that they do not understand that intimate partner violence is affecting men and women within their own congregations. For others, they worry that if people seek their help, they will not know what to tell them in terms of the next steps. Regardless of how aware any religious leader is of the dynamics of abuse, or the community-​based services that can be of help, every pastor, priest, imam, and rabbi can say the following: “Intimate partner violence is wrong. Always. No matter what the circumstances that may give rise to it. It is not part of God’s design for healthy and respectful family living.” Just these words, or some variant of them, are very powerful when spoken by someone whom a man or a woman believes is a person of religious authority or influence, a leader of their community of faith, their spiritual leader. 8. Sometimes lay leaders or groups within the congregation carry out work associated with domestic violence without any contact with the leadership. This may or may not be intentional, but one impact of this is that there can be no coordinated response of the congregation. As we argued previously in this book, women’s groups within congregations have a long history of support for women who have been abused in the family context. Many also have established connections with local transition houses, to which they provide both financial and in-​kind support for the important work that takes place there. Most often, the alliances that are formed between women’s groups in congregations and local organizations do not flow through the congregational leadership; in fact, we have found that many pastors and other religious leaders are not aware of the social action initiatives (including the issue of abuse) of the women connected with their faith community. Whether this is a deliberate strategy on the part of the women’s leadership is

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difficult to determine. Perhaps women in congregational life are reluctant to inform male leadership of work that they do in the community that may not, or that they perceive may not, have enthusiastic support. There is a malaise between women’s experiences within patriarchal religious institutions and the leaders of these institutions. This is a spiritual and social malaise that does not necessarily result in women leaving their church or forming women–​church or parachurch groups within, alongside, or outside of religious institutions (Ruether, 1986). It has led to the phenomenon aptly called “defecting in place” (Winter, Lumis, & Stokes, 1995). Women manage multiple identities, including both religious and secular ones (Ammerman, 2003). They identify not only as wives and mothers but also as professionals and household income earners. Through their patriarchal faith traditions, many women understand themselves and their compassionate actions on behalf of women who have been battered. It cannot be denied that all women have been influenced by feminist work for women’s equality in the public sphere and the acknowledgment of domestic violence as a public rather than a private problem. Patriarchal institutions and feminist ideologies clash on a variety of fronts, but rather than entering the fray of public feminist theological struggles with institutional powers, many women prefer to quietly go about the work of caring for other women. They are motivated by central religious narratives of care and compassion for their neighbors. Studies of women’s lived religion indicate that much of what women understand as religious takes place beyond the radar of institutional life (Ammerman, 2007; McGuire, 2008). Compassionate action toward those who suffer in the world almost inevitably takes precedence over identity politics. Acts of charity, such as fundraising for a women’s shelter, are also more common for most church women than asking questions about why shelters exist in the first place. In his study of Californian Catholics, Baggett (2009) shows that social progressives who work to provide public services to the marginalized do not want their priests to emphasize issues of social justice at mass. They are searching for the spiritual comfort and support from their churches that will help them deal with the social problems that they face daily in their places of work. 9. Sometimes the work of lay leaders and that of congregational leaders are at cross-​purposes with regard to responding to the needs of families who seek help in the aftermath of domestic violence, both victims and abusers. In responding to the needs of women who have suffered abuse, clergy often overlook women’s spiritual and emotional needs and focus instead entirely on their practical problems. As a result, women are often disappointed with the spiritual help they receive from their pastors—​the very reason many women sought their help in the first place. In our focus groups of women in congregational life, women have expressed their impatience with male leadership on the issue of abuse and the slow pace of change to raise awareness in the congregational context. It is certainly not unusual for one or more women in a women’s group within a congregation to reach out and offer an abused woman assistance. She may be a regular member of the group, a woman who sporadically attends the group, or a woman who does not attend. Sometimes she is known to one group member, and that woman asks other women to join with her in offering the abused woman help and support.

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Women in these contexts are exceptionally good at providing for a woman’s material and emotional needs. We have ample evidence from our research program that they offer the violated woman groceries, provide transportation, help with child care so she can make appointments, and “check up” with her on a regular basis. They may know or suspect that she has spiritual needs, and although they do not avoid these, many lay women believe that responding to these needs is best left to the women’s group leader or the ordained clergy. Although the woman leading the group may address some of an abused woman’s spiritual angst, often that leader still believes that a word from “the pastor” would bring more authority or comfort. It is these situations that can sometimes be very challenging. First, the woman who is a lay leader may be better equipped—​through her understanding of abuse or her lived experience as a woman—​to help the abused woman address the malaise and fear she is experiencing. Second, the pastor may be unequipped, unhelpful, or detrimental to the process. In these contexts, it becomes a major challenge when the woman leader has encouraged the abused woman to seek help from a shelter, consult a lawyer, or has offered her passages in the Bible that show that God does not condone violence and then the pastor undermines these attempts either by design or by accident. Although the majority of women in patriarchal religious groups do not lay claim to feminist identities, some do openly resist patriarchal structures, teachings, and practices and try to work for change within religious institutions. Faith-​based feminists make explicit connections between the power and control of patriarchal structures and the perpetuation of violence against women and domestic violence. However, they also believe that there is a core of teachings within religious traditions that are not products of patriarchy and point toward the true liberation of human beings, right relationship, and nonviolence. The tension between women within congregations who perform social action work and Christian religious leaders is particularly apparent in Catholic churches. Research in Catholic parishes (Holtmann, 2009; Howard Ecklund, 2006) reveals that priests have an influence on the leadership and social action opportunities available for lay women. Priests in favor of women’s equality and concerned about social justice are more likely to support and/​or create opportunities for women’s leadership in their parishes. Priests opposed to women’s equality will thwart efforts that might call into question the Catholic Church’s teachings on gender essentialism and the complementarity of men and women. Catholic nuns have been at the forefront of putting the gospel and Catholic social teachings into action, likely due to the measure of autonomy that collective religious orders have provided for them. Principles such as the preservation of human dignity, solidarity for the common good, and the preferential option for the poor and vulnerable are put into practice in their ministries of pastoral care, education, health care, and the political lobbying carried out by their nongovernmental organizations. Many of these ministries include advocating for the survivors of domestic violence and their children. Nuns have also used Catholic social principles to critique the patriarchy in the church. Organizations such as the Women’s Ordination Conference, Future Church, and Women–​Church Convergence in the United States and the Catholic Network for Women’s Equality in Canada provide opportunities for religious and secular women to work side by side for social and ecclesial change on behalf of women. Since the late 1970s, Catholic leaders have responded to the faith-​based feminist social justice work of individual women, religious orders, and

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movements with threats, excommunications, censures, and silencing. The election of Pope Francis in 2013 has resulted in a more conciliatory tone between the hierarchy and Catholic feminists. Searching for Solutions 1. During the weekly routine of congregational life, there is ample opportunity for raising awareness and providing education and resources related to intimate partner violence and other forms of domestic abuse. In most congregations throughout Canada and the United States, there are programs for children, youth, and senior adults, to name but a few. Congregations that are interested in raising awareness about abuse can easily tap into programs and volunteers that are already in place, although there will no doubt need to be some specific training and resources offered to them. For example, consider programs for the youth. For many parents who are religious, ensuring that their children are exposed to others of like faith and that they grow to love and accept the principles and the practices of their religious tradition is of utmost importance. Youth programs include weekly youth meetings, special social events, and summer camp experiences. There is no shortage of opportunities to discuss with youth what healthy interpersonal and intimate relationships should involve and what should be avoided. Although it is critical to identify and name abusive behaviors—​physical, sexual, emotional, verbal, and so on—​it is also critical to identify and name healthy ones. Young people need to be encouraged to be on guard for unhealthy interpersonal and intimate behaviors in their own lives but also in the lives of others—​their friends and acquaintances. In the documentary I Believe You, there is a short clip about a Jewish summer camp where there is explicit instruction on dating violence and the broader context of gender inequality that gives rise to it (http://​www.divacommunications.com/​programs/​ i-​believe-​you). As the youth counselor speaks to the campers, she is encouraging them to talk to each other about these things and to understand that their faith tradition does not condone such behavior as abuse between partners. Elder abuse is another very important subject for congregations to address, especially because there is often a higher proportion of older adults in attendance than any other age category. Sometimes people forget that older women and men can be vulnerable to all kinds of abusive behavior, perpetrated by family members and/​or paid or volunteer caregivers. 2. Specialty ministries within many congregations provide contexts to support those who have been victimized on the road to healing and wholeness. Most congregations have some specialty ministries, although few identify them as such. These range from age-​specific groups to gender-​identified groups, relationship-​ specific groups, and groups dependent on parental status. Examples include Golden Years Gathering, Teens Night Out, Singles Luncheon, Women’s Retreat, Moms and Tots, and College and Careers. In most of these contexts, people develop relationships with one another as they eat, relax, study, pray, and spend time together in a social setting with like-​minded believers. Not everyone present shares all of the values or beliefs

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of the group, but it is understood that the group itself is linked to the congregation under whose umbrella it has been organized. To be sure, there are more of these groups that involve women than men, or to be more accurate, there are usually more women that attend these groups than there are men. When a congregation as a whole has been sensitized to issues surrounding intimate partner violence, these groups can be one way of supporting women who have been victimized or other women whose lives have been impacted by violence (through their family or friendship networks). They are natural ways to reach out. Throughout the years of our research, we have been amazed at the wide array of resources and support offered by groups such as these to women and their families for whom violence has struck at home. Many congregations consider themselves to be “church families,” and women within these contexts understand each other as “sisters in the faith”—​ these are images and relationships that can be harnessed to offer tremendous support. Rarely, have we observed a congregation in which there is a specialty ministry directed specifically to women who have been, or are currently, abused. One place where this was occurring was among African American congregations in Charlotte, North Carolina. Generally, these were large churches with a fairly well-​developed system of women’s lay leadership—​some were called pastors—​but they were not ordained and not receiving remuneration for their time and expertise. 3. Specialty ministries within some congregations provide contexts to offer accountability to those who have been abusive and are on the journey to changed thinking and behavior. In our fieldwork with men who act abusively, we heard several times from those who were part of small group ministries within large congregational settings that the men themselves felt supported through the daily struggles of life. It might have been a care group for those who were divorced or separated from their partners, or sometimes it was a group for those who had at one point been incarcerated. Often, these groups were intended for “men only,” where the group held accountability for men’s actions as a paramount raison d’etre. Most often, the accountability related to issues other than abuse, such as substance abuse or pornography, but the principle of accountability meant that men were talking and sharing about their lives with other men in a context in which acting differently than they had in the past was of vital importance. Kiyoshk (2003) skillfully makes the case for the integration of spirituality into the Change of Seasons domestic violence treatment program for aboriginal men in western Canada. In this program, every third session is a cultural activity (e.g., smudge, talking circle, sweat lodge purification, pipe ceremony, and ceremonial dancing) that augments the psychoeducational group format. He argues that ritual and ceremony are integral to counseling in the aboriginal community because their culture has a strong spiritual basis. The key to his argument is that because the survival of First Nations’ people has depended on a worldview that does not separate spirituality from everyday life, this characteristic that has been reinforced over hundreds of years is also what ensures success in counseling assaultive men. There are specific programs for aboriginal men offered in several American and Canadian locations. Interviews with three aboriginal treatment providers at one Canadian site focused on the unique needs of aboriginal offenders and the incorporation of spirituality within the curriculum. The three therapists interviewed recognized

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the potential, and indeed the necessity, of incorporating spirituality and culture into the therapeutic process. Without bringing the men back into their First Nations culture, they see little hope for change. From their perspective, healing broken spirits and broken lives is best achieved through spirituality. One therapist said, [We] have always had that spiritual—​that acknowledgment that we were dependent and that there is something that guides us. It is difficult to teach—​you can’t teach it. You have to show it. . . . It’s not so much a religion but a way of living. Specialized programs for aboriginal men are thus based on the four aspects of the medicine wheel—​the spiritual, physical, mental, and emotional. Aspects of spirituality are incorporated throughout the program. Another therapist stated that at the end of the treatment program, we have a graduation and we give them a medicine bag—​it might have sweet grass so their prayers go to the Creator, a stone bear for courage, a little arrowhead for honoring their ancestry. Then we have a heart stone to show the heart and then a seed. We tell them we have given you the seed now you need to grow. Now you are on your healing journey. 4. Because most congregations minister to the entire age spectrum of men and women, there is great opportunity to think creatively about how to identify needs and respond with compassion and best practices to all who are impacted by intimate partner violence and other forms of family abuse. Large congregations offer programs that are meant to meet the needs of people from the time they are born. Beginning with “moms morning out” or “Saturday breakfast for dads and babies,” congregations are eager to engage families and individuals at various stages in the life cycle. Congregations that have higher tech facilities will often post a note on the corner of the presentation slides when a parent is needed to come to the nursery. They go to great lengths to ensure that young families feel comfortable in the congregation and that younger men and women are supported in their role as parents. This context, then, seems ideal for understanding and then acting on the reality of the impact of intimate partner violence on the lives of children. There is ample evidence that having a plethora of children’s and teen’s activities and programs draws families to specific congregations and that the absence of such is one more drain on a congregation that is declining. Congregational youth groups are uniquely positioned to prepare and present programs that highlight healthy and unhealthy interpersonal dynamics in an effort to name abuse for what it is and to offer guidance and resources to those who are impacted by it. Youth pastors and volunteer youth leaders have unique opportunities to address the topic of intimate partner violence at a very important stage in the lives of congregational youth. Not only are the youth entering into dating relationships but also there are most likely youth group members who are growing up in a violent home. Some may themselves be victims of family violence. Most church youth know friends who are living in a violent home; perhaps a friend has confided in a youth group member about the violence between parents that the friend witnesses at home, and that youth group member does not know what to do to help or how to respond. Some youth are

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learning from home that violence is a “normal” way of relating even in a Christian home. By addressing the topic at the youth group, it gives the group members permission to talk about the issue, to ask questions, and to seek help for themselves or for someone they know. Youth pastors and leaders, therefore, need to be trained to address domestic violence in ways that are effective for that age group. Youth who come from a violent home may feel guilt or shame because they have been told that their behavior causes the anger that leads to the violence at home. They may be fearful that telling someone will only make things worse. They may have conflicting emotions—​afraid of a violent parent but at the same time loving their parents because they are the only parents they have. Especially among youth, there may be denial—​they assume that their experience at home is normal and that other families at church are pretending just like they are. Although perhaps it is obvious that congregations offer programs to children and young people, the scope and variety of programs for older adults should not be underestimated. Some of these activities involve older men or women attending an event, such as shuffle board or Nifty-​After-​Fifty, whereas others are directed toward the needs of older adults in their own homes, such as compassion ministries of food or visitation after sickness or bereavement. Although many programs have a social or fellowship component, almost all activities have some devotional or educational aspect, at least occasionally. Furthermore, even when the social needs of the older adult are the primary concern of the congregation, there is an opportunity for “a word of encouragement,” “a short prayer,” or “something to read later on.” Viewed from this perspective, there are many occasions, both formal and informal, to raise the topic of abuse, contextualized within a broader focus of care and compassion. Churches should also consider ways to support those who are responsible for the chronic care of elderly parents or other family members. 5. Because most congregations are interested in some form of engagement with their local communities (whether evangelism, outreach, or activism), there is the possibility to identify families impacted by abuse as an opportunity for ministry/​service. Frequently, women of faith reach out to other women, within or beyond the walls of the buildings associated with their congregation. For many religious women, this is part of their lived religion, as natural as making a meal or caring for their children. They see a need, expressed or implied, and they act. How women care for each other differs, depending in part on the personal narrative of the woman offering the care and also on the faith context in which it is being offered. There is a vast array of supporting work that operates under the umbrella of congregational life, and much of it is administered by women for other women. Often, religious leaders, priests, pastors, and other elders are completely unaware of its strength and vitality. Sometimes they do not even know that it exists. It is not complicated, nor is its administration cumbersome, but its informal nature and the rewards and costs of its enactment are complex. It flourishes in congregations that are healthy, functional congregational families in which seeing and responding to the needs of others are encouraged by the ordained and lay leadership and modeled for others to imitate. It cannot be legislated or programmed, although there certainly can be programs that identify and respond to the needs of others. However, that is

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something different, discussed previously in point number 2. The informal support structure grows out of a shared mission to help and be helped. Its roots are deep within many religious traditions. It affirms a woman’s faith to be called upon to help, and it reinforces her sense of belonging when she receives the help of another. At its best, it is a tangible expression of the foundational faith on which she has chosen to build her life. It is complex in the way that its boundaries, rewards, costs, and even recipients are always open to scrutiny and analysis. It is bountiful, but it never can be assumed or taken for granted. When it is expected but not offered, great resentment is created. When it is offered but denied, disappointment and then inertia can result. Thus its complex nature. 6. Some congregations view themselves as a moral compass or a beacon for community change. There are many opportunities for collaboration at the community level on the issue of intimate partner violence. These can range from financial and in-​kind donations to shelters and transition houses to volunteering to serve on boards and volunteering time and skill to end violence. Congregations engage with community life in an almost limitless variety of ways. As it relates to domestic violence, our research data have demonstrated that women’s groups provide in-​kind and financial donations to women’s shelters, and men’s groups have been known to “offer their trucks” so that residents of transition houses can be moved from the temporary location of a shelter to an apartment or other supported facility. We have also heard of Sunday school classes that prepare items for children of abused women, such as school supplies before the beginning of the school year, and youth groups that take food or other items to abused women and their families on special days such as Mother’s Day. All these initiatives are small in comparison to the level of need, but they are important ways that congregations educate themselves about intimate partner violence and work together with others in the community to respond to the problems created by intimate partner violence. Not only do congregations “do things” and “learn things” together but also many people in congregational life volunteer their time and their resources to these initiatives independent of their support of the religious congregation to which they belong. For example, a woman may be a nurse practitioner by profession and training, attend a congregation in a downtown area in which she serves as a co-​leader of the women’s group, and also volunteer on the board of a local transition house. The various areas of her life and influence are impacted by her congregational and professional commitments, and in this way they serve to mutually reinforce each other. Harnessing these commitments within the congregation is both a challenge and a reward for those in ministry. The extent to which faithful church attenders are involved as community volunteers is often underestimated. According to Statistics Canada (2004), those who attend religious services weekly are far more likely to volunteer their time than those who do not (62% vs. 43%, respectively), and they tend to volunteer more time (229 hours vs. 147 hours, respectively). These weekly church attenders volunteer 57% of their hours to non-​religious causes. Although they comprise only 19% of the total population, they contribute 35% of all volunteer hours in Canada. For individual congregations and for religious leaders, this means that there are likely people within the congregation who

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have ties with a number of community organizations; therefore, bridges can be built to community agencies with which the church might partner in its efforts to provide resources for victims of domestic violence. 7. Congregational life—​and notions of spirituality and lived religion—​spills over to what happens at home, at work, and at play. Lived religion highlights not only what women and men do together in a congregational context but also what happens at home, in the workplace, and in their social lives that brings religion and its practice to the foreground. Themes of freedom, justice, choice, and agency find their way into everyday experiences as the family of God experiences both domestic life and the broader culture. At its best, a congregation offers its members and adherents connection to each other and to the faith tradition they hold dear. The strong bonds created through participation in religious social networks enable a process of engagement or conversion that Baker (2013) has labeled believing, belonging, and becoming. In regularly sharing their intellectual and spiritual beliefs and values through social practices, religious people feel that they belong to something larger than themselves. This sense of believing and belonging and collective identity empowers members of Christian, Muslim, Jewish, and Buddhist groups to strive to transform their lives. It is upon the foundation of belonging that religious individuals can become more deeply their true selves—​they can put their values into action both in and beyond the mosque or temple. The following section highlights specifically how this relates to Muslim families living in the United States or Canada. FAMIL IES CONNE CTE D TO THE  MOSQ U E

When considering the experiences of Muslim women in recognizing and naming abuse in their marriages, it is important to recognize that Muslim families in the West are currently embedded in societies permeated with anti-​Muslim rhetoric. Particularly since the terrorist attacks in the United States on September 11, 2001, there is a pervasive stereotype among non-​Muslims that all Muslim wives are controlled (and therefore abused) by their inherently violent husbands (Desai & Haffajee, 2011). For some, the veiling of Muslim women in public, whether they don the hijab, niqab or burqa, is a visible sign of their oppression. This stereotype has led to discrimination and violence against Muslims in the public sphere. In the case of France and Canada, attempts to ban the wearing of the veil in public are the states’ interventions to help free Muslim women from their domination by their husbands and fathers (Selby, 2014). In the face of discrimination and, in some cases, violence against Muslim women in the public sphere, it is understandable that many Muslim men have grown increasingly concerned for the safety of their wives and daughters. However, this has also given highly controlling Muslim husbands license to further isolate and abuse their wives. Thus, although there is no empirical evidence that Muslim families in Canada or the United States (Liao, 2006) are more (or less) likely to experience domestic violence than other families of faith, it is risky for non-​Muslims to raise this issue because of the potential for misunderstanding and the perpetuation of stereotypes. Muslim religious leaders will be hesitant to join a community collaborative approach to domestic violence without a respect for and appreciation of their faith (Zine, 2004).

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Challenges to the religious and social freedoms of Muslim women intersect with economic barriers. Kazemipur’s (2014) research highlights the economic inequality that Muslim Canadians experience. Compared to other religious groups in Canada, Muslims have the lowest levels of income, and the income gap between Muslims and other religious immigrant groups increases during the first 4 years of settlement in Canada. This is due, in part, to long periods of unemployment reported by Muslims after arrival in Canada. Muslim women report the lowest post-​migration employment rates compared to other religious groups of immigrant women. Kazemipur contends that their out-​of-​ Canada work experiences are discounted by employers and they receive lower levels of return on their education than women from other immigrant religious groups. Based on data from the United Kingdom, Hussain (2008) argues that Muslim women’s low level of participation in the labor force is evidence of their heightened religious commitment to their families in comparison to that of Christian women. However, Kazemipur’s analysis leads him to call for a more thorough understanding of the nature and dynamics of religiosity, secularism, and secularization among Canadian Muslims (p. 194). Muslim women’s widespread un-​and underemployment highlight barriers for those who seek safety from violent marriages. They are vulnerable to isolation and highly dependent on the financial support of their husbands. In the case of new immigrants, the immigration status of a Muslim woman is another aspect that can heighten her vulnerability to abuse, especially if she has been sponsored by her husband. Thus, it is important that Muslim religious leaders speak out and condemn domestic violence. At the same time, it is critical that they offer support for Muslim women who have the courage to disclose the violence that is taking place in their families. Keeping disclosures of domestic violence confidential is absolutely critical, particularly in situations in which the Muslim community is small and everyone knows one another (Kulwicki, Aswad, Carmona, & Ballout, 2010). For many minority ethno-​religious groups, there is pressure not to disclose domestic violence because it threatens the unity of the collective and can be viewed as an act of betrayal (Liao, 2006). Muslim women are reluctant to disclose domestic violence because it will bring shame on their families and their community. It must be kept in mind that rather than the victims who speak out, it is the perpetrators of domestic violence who are dishonoring their wives and threatening the unity of the Muslim community. Muslim religious leaders who are trained in best practices in cases of domestic violence can assist survivors by making the divorce contracts applicable to both religious and state requirements (Kulwicki et al., 2010, p. 733). In the context of the United States, the Peaceful Families Project (Alkhateeb & Abugideiri, 2007) was an initiative to highlight the reality of Muslim female domestic violence survivors and to argue that indeed there were some resources, scant as they might be, to offer solutions and strategies to respond to families in crisis. In Change from Within: Diverse Perspectives on Domestic Violence in Muslim Communities, Maha Alkhateeb and Salma Elkadi Abugideiri, co-​directors of the project, share stories of survivors and illustrate some of the roadblocks women face on their paths to healing. As we have discussed throughout this book, these authors highlight the unique domestic violence issues faced by Muslim women, and they emphasize Islam’s intolerance to abuse—​a message that, not unlike Christianity, sometimes falls on deaf ears. Islam is an incredibly diverse religion, and although the majority of Muslims agree with the core tenets of faith, there is significant diversity with regard to levels of religious commitment, acceptance of multiple interpretations of their faith, and openness to various movements within Islam (Pew Research Forum, 2012). As with

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Christianity, its sacred texts and teachings can be used by abusive husbands to justify their behaviors. Probably the most controversial of these is the 34th verse of Chapter 4 of the Qur’an. This verse is the subject of much debate among Muslim scholars, yet feminist Islamic interpretations enable Muslim women to maintain their religious identities with the knowledge that wife beating is unacceptable in their religious tradition (Ammar, 2007; Chaudry, 2013). There are other resources within the Islamic tradition that can be harnessed to denounce family violence and support Muslim women seeking safety. The Qur’an states that marriage is both a sacramental and contractual covenant (Desai & Haffajee, 2011, p. 129) in which both husbands and wives share responsibility for mutual support and comfort. There are also verses in the Qur’an that encourage women and advocate for their good treatment within the Muslim community. By its very nature, prayer enables Muslim women to ask for help, and in addition to praying for a change in the behavior of their husbands, women can learn to pray for the safety and well-​ being of their children and themselves. Both formal and informal support networks of Muslim women exist in most contexts (Bullock, 2012), and research has shown that women of faith are most likely to disclose experiences of domestic violence to close friends rather than public service providers (Holtmann, 2016). CONGR EGATIONS AND A FUR THE R WO R D A B OUT   T HE CHILDRE N

In The Battered Wife: How Christians Confront Family Violence (Nason-​Clark, 1997), I offer a variety of examples of how women help other women under the umbrella of their faith community and, in so doing, help transform victims into survivors. The following are a few of their own words: But if one out of every four families are being abused, the minister, if everybody came to the minister like that, he would never get home for supper. I mean he, he wouldn’t have the time . . . I don’t think we can leave it up to the pastor. I think it’s impossible. (Woman #5, Focus Group #1) And I think that . . . a woman, you know, that’s been abused will come to probably a woman in the church first even before the pastor. (Woman #4, Focus Group #17) In reference to someone talking about an abused woman sleeping on her couch, another woman who herself had been battered replied, “I know for myself, I couldn’t even admit it to myself for years and years. . . . Who do I go to? There was no one with a couch . . . you see” (Woman #2, Focus Group #28). Many women of faith help abused women by reaching out to assist with their practical needs. The most common form of support by women to a victim is emotional support, with more than half of women in our congregational studies/​focus groups/​ individual surveys reporting so, but a substantial number also mentioned temporary lodging, child care, and financial support. Although it is unclear how this might directly impact the children, without it the children would have suffered more. Perhaps the strongest message about children to come from our vast array of studies throughout the years is the incongruence between the message of the faith

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community and the reality of the child’s lived experience at home. Teaching their children to love the faith and believe the principles and act in accordance with them is central to the task most congregations set for themselves. When the rhetoric of congregational life and the reality of its lived experience at home are at odds, children cannot help but feel bewildered and abandoned, not to mention being afraid and feeling insecure. Many leaders and parishioners in church life certainly thought that the chasm created between the teaching and the living needed some correction, and some held that it was church leaders’ responsibility to tackle it head on. The following are responses about the difference between was is and what they believed should be: But when a man picks up his wife and throws her . . . on the street three times in front of a whole audience . . .I mean is a man really supposed to be allowed to do that in front of the children? . . . This is what happened in my family, [to] my daughter, last year, downtown. (Woman #21, Focus Group #28) You know, when his first marriage broke up, I mean he, he not only beat his wife, but was endangering his children’s lives. The second marriage broke up because he was beating up on his wife and was making comments that caused her to be really scared for the safety . . . of particularly the oldest daughter. (Clergy Interview #277) I get a phone call, guy says, “I’m in jail, I’ve been accused of sexually assaulting my daughters and I need help.” . . . He used to throw kids’ tricycles against the wall, he used to frighten, his anger and his volatile activity. . . . Both Christians, heavily involved . . . highly public leader in the church. (Clergy Interview #514) Any person confronted with these voices would be hard-​pressed to argue that children are not impacted by abuse that happens at home, especially in a home that is deeply religious. When children see their father treat their mother poorly, intimidate her, or harm her physically or emotionally, it creates a scar. Over a month, a year, or a childhood, a lot of scar tissue can develop, linger, and impact how a child views his or her own circumstances and future possibilities. C O N CL US ION

From the Victim’s Perspective In order for the congregation to be a refuge from abuse, congregational members need to be prepared to listen to the stories of victims and survivors. This sounds more straightforward than it sometimes turns out to be. What does it actually mean to listen to a woman’s story of battery? • • • • • •

To hear, but not to judge To empathize, but not to pity To strategize, but not to control To offer choices and resources, but not to direct next steps To put actions to words of comfort, but not overwhelm To harness the beauty and the strength of faith at a time of human vulnerability

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From the Pastor’s Perspective For many people who are on the outside of a faith community, a congregation is understood to be a religious institution, a social organization, or a group that adheres to certain beliefs and practices. However, pastors experience the congregation in very different ways because, especially when relationships of mutual respect and trust exist, pastors get to know and to love the people who make up that organization. Once a relationship of trust has been established (and sometimes even before that), congregants may confide in the pastor about personal or family matters that they would mention to few other people and probably no one outside their immediate family. People share prayer requests with their pastor, and they talk about their sins and shortcomings and their hopes and aspirations. They come to the pastor in times of decision and crisis and illness and death, seeking guidance, counsel, and comfort. Pastors often see the very best and the very worst of people within a congregation. That level of trust and knowledge requires that pastors adhere to several principles. First, pastors must not abuse the relationship. Unfortunately, there are too many instances in which pastors abuse their position of trust for purposes that are related to their own desire for power and control. Of course, that can also be true of others who serve in positions of leadership in a congregation. That is why effective policies to prevent abuse are needed in religious congregations as in any social organization. Second, pastors may suspect that a congregant is in an abusive relationship or a congregant may tell them in strict confidence about being a victim of abuse or about a friend who is a victim of abuse. If pastors do not know how to respond effectively and do not know what resources are available in the community, or if they mistakenly think they know how to “fix” the problem without realizing the increased danger that such misguided interventions could cause, it can cause great damage. On the other hand, a well-​trained pastor is in a unique position to provide effective help by empowering victims to make good choices about their safety. Third, pastors often see the complex dynamics of a troubled family in ways that few other professionals do, and they must act accordingly. For example, when others suspect that an elderly and chronically ill church member is being abused by an adult daughter, a pastor may know that after months of round-​the-​clock care without much help from other family members, the daughter is in fact dealing with loneliness and deep discouragement or even depression and needs immediate help. As another example, when some people commend a woman’s husband for his constant attentiveness and unwillingness to leave his wife’s side, the pastor may realize that in fact the husband does not want his wife to be alone and thus able to do or say things that he cannot control. A pastor also knows that the congregation can be a tremendous resource. Knowing a family who can provide a safe place to stay for a victim of abuse can be an invaluable resource in a time of crisis. Having members of the congregation regularly visit the elderly and provide occasional meals can provide friendship and respite time for family members who are feeling overwhelmed by the responsibility of full-​time care. Providing couples who are good role models to serve as youth and children’s leaders can teach mutual respect by example. In addition, having leaders who affirm the importance of safety for all family members and the unacceptability of abuse can set a tone in the congregation that makes it clear that it is safe for victims to seek help.

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From the Advocate’s Perspective My (Cathy) research on Canadian Catholic resources for domestic violence (Holtmann, 2013b) led me to a downtown parish in a large city. The parish provided extensive space for a community supper table and a women’s center. The women’s center has paid staff members who assist at least 50 women each day, many of whom are survivors of family violence and homeless. Through the center, the women have access to food for breakfast and lunch, groceries including baby food, a clothing bank, laundry facilities, computers, and a children’s playroom. Staff facilitate group programming on self-​esteem and provide space for the women to work with literacy specialists, meet the public health nurse, or learn yoga. In addition, the center has a scholarship program to support women who want to attend university. In an interview, the executive director explained that the women’s center evolved out of the church’s supper table ministry—​a not uncommon charitable practice of inner-​city churches. Homeless women would hang around the church, waiting for supper time because they had nowhere else to go during the day. The church staff and supper table volunteers realized that there was an opportunity to help empower these women and their children through the establishment of a women’s center. The church does not provide financial support to the women’s center beyond the provision and maintenance of space. The executive director meets weekly with the parish leadership and staff, and the congregation supports the women’s center’s fundraising efforts. Some of the women from the women’s center have become involved in parish activities, and staff will refer women to the priest or female pastoral administrator if they request spiritual direction. Approximately 15% of the women who use the center’s services are immigrant women, and some of them are Muslim. Most of the funding for the center’s activities is through municipal grants, and the executive director has close ties with other inner-​city social service providers, including shelter workers and the police. This is an excellent example of how one church congregation has become part of a collaborative response to domestic violence in its community. The congregation did not deliberately set out to develop a ministry for victims of domestic violence but, rather, responded to a need that arose in the context of its outreach ministry. Establishing the women’s center was part of a process of change. Once the women’s center was established, it became clear that empowering women included supporting them in staying safe from intimate partner violence, looking after their health, parenting, accessing legal and therapeutic professionals, and accompanying them to court. These supports were obtained for the women by the executive director of the women’s center through the existing networks of social service providers in the community. From the Criminal Justice Perspective A number of years ago, Nancy and I (Barb) were having lunch during a conference break in a large US city with a woman who had been victimized by her husband and had, after years of abuse, reluctantly left the relationship. She was very distraught about her situation because she believed it was unacceptable to break the covenant of marriage and she was desperately anxious to repair the relationship. Thus, during our meeting she recounted, in a very upbeat way, how one of the conference speakers was

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a former abuser who spoke of his own journey and who had completely changed his ways to “walk the world in a different way.” His wife spoke with him and affirmed his change. He had been able to remain in his marriage because of his efforts to change through treatment and counseling, which had been ongoing for several years. Their story spoke to her about her marital relationship because she was extremely hopeful that if only her husband would take this same program, then he too would stop his abuse. We believed it was only fair to remind her of the whole story that had been told that day—​that this speaker had been through three consecutive treatment programs prior to changing his beliefs and behavior, and he said that in those three programs, he met no other men who really changed. Tears came to her eyes as it became clear that perhaps her high hopes for reconciliation would not be as straightforward as she might have thought. Her story sadly ended in divorce. I tell this story because repeatedly in a variety of settings we are confronted with the expectations and goals, the hopes and dreams, of a myriad of people impacted by abuse—​as victim/​survivors, as their supporters from various constituencies, and as agents of the criminal justice system. Because of our combined 60+ years of research on intimate partner violence as a team, we know much of the story about the many issues that impact those expectations and dreams. In the past few decades, there have been a plethora of responses to intimate partner violence, often within a coordinated community response setting. With all of these improved responses, it is indisputable that the criminal justice system now recognizes the necessity of dealing with domestic violence cases in a more serious and concerted manner. However, many cautions arise. Expectations and goals must continue to surmount many barriers—​both individually based and systemic. One particular barrier that we identified previously in this book is the poor completion rates of men who are enrolled in batterer intervention groups, often as a condition of probation or parole. Approximately half of the men enrolled do not complete the programs—​completion being one indication of a desire to change. This percentage is augmented when clergy are involved in encouraging the men to continue their intervention:  With clergy involvement, approximately 80% complete it. Thus, although these percentages are discouraging for women who have been victimized, there can be a light at the end of the tunnel when clergy members become involved. Another barrier is that policies and procedures within the criminal justice system have not advanced sufficiently to ensure fair and equal treatment of women victimized by intimate partner abuse (Stephens & Sinden, 2000). Although legal systems within both Canada and the United States no longer view spousal abuse as a “private matter” and respond much more effectively than in the past, there are many deficiencies. Throughout the ongoing process of developing contemporary criminal justice responses to the issue of wife abuse, the perspectives and experiences of victims have been underrepresented (Stephens & Sinden, 2000). Women victim/​survivors are becoming increasingly vocal about what they need and what they want from a criminal justice response to wife abuse (Fleury, 2002; Minaker, 2001). Victims support reforms that would ensure that wife assault is handled differently than stranger assault, giving emphasis to therapy as a key element of sentencing; that would reduce the weight given to provocation and drunkenness as mitigating factors; and that would allow victims to participate more actively in the sentencing process. In addition, women face distinctive challenges in the courtroom, in part because the offender is known to them (and often loved by them) and also because criminal

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justice remedies often fail to offer protection and to end the violence ( Jordan, 2004). For example, mandatory arrest and no-​drop prosecution policies are indeed effective in curtailing the violence of some men, but for others this response may increase their violence (Chalk & King, 1998). According to Hoyle and Sanders (2000), many women do not seek criminal sanctions because they believe these are unlikely to help end the violence. In addition, they believe that often their “choices” within the criminal justice system are coerced by the circumstances of their lives. Women appear to be in a no-​win situation when interacting with the criminal justice system. According to Hartman and Belknap (2003), women were frequently viewed as pathetic, stupid, or even deserving of the abuse they experienced if they stayed with the defendant and/​or were uncooperative with the court officials. At the same time, when the women actively pursued the cases against their abusers, they were viewed as vindictive, crazy, or falsely charging domestic violence to meet their own selfish needs. For example, numerous professionals at each level suggested that the only reason victims called the police was so they could have some “free” time to themselves. (p. 363) Crocker (2005) highlights research on the way judges characterize victims and offenders. She refers to the work of Linda Neilson (1997) that documents how, in cases involving child custody, women lose credibility if they remain in a relationship with their abuser. During the past three decades, there has been a plethora of innovative criminal justice responses to the serious social issue of wife abuse. These include mandatory arrest, dual arrest, no-​drop prosecution, protection orders, specialized domestic violence courts, and restorative justice and mediation initiatives. However, problems remain, with victims believing that their needs are not being sufficiently addressed, and perpetrators evading prosecution or not fulfilling conditions of their probation or parole. Although these new policies and procedures are meant to overcome some of the loopholes within the criminal justice system, there remains a need for further reform. N O TE

1. We have heard situations like these discussed among domestic violence advocates in rural areas and among seminarians and clergy with whom we have worked.

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Fewer than 1 in 10 religious leaders report that they feel well equipped to respond to the needs presented by families impacted by abuse—​both victims and perpetrators. Graduating seminary students also state that they do not feel prepared to deal with the issue of domestic violence. There is a chasm between the needs of pastors in preparation to handle this critical social issue and of the men and women whose lives have been shattered by domestic violence and current practice in seminaries. In part, this is a reflection of the plethora of theological, practical, and social skills and knowledge that clergy require for ministry. It is also in part a reflection of the priorities of seminaries and the denominations they serve, as well as the professors and instructors who staff the courses. When there is content in the curriculum that addresses intimate partner violence, or violence in the family context, it is almost never in the context of a compulsory course that students are required to complete. Consequently, there is an enormous need to provide training and resources on issues of abuse that would help to equip those in pastoral ministry. T HE ST ORY OF OFFE RING A TRAININ G D AY F OR   PA S T ORS

It is a brisk autumn morning, and the leaves are swirling around the car and my ankles as I reach into the trunk to retrieve my computer and all the materials I have brought for the day’s training event. There are only a few vehicles in the church parking lot, but because I have arrived well in advance of the start time, I try not to let this concern me. But it always does. What if only a handful of religious leaders show up?

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What if those who have preregistered decide other responsibilities are more pressing today? What if the cost of hosting the training exceeds the revenue? What if all the effort that has gone into today’s preparations yields so little in return? But, really, what nags at my heart most: What if the church and its leaders really do not care about battered women? Inside the building, I am met by the senior pastor of the church, who offers a warm welcome, but I can see a worried look on his face, hiding behind the overly zealous smile. Before I can take off my coat, he is reciting a list of people who are now unable to come for the morning, can only stay until noon, or must arrive late. “And these are the ones who have been thoughtful enough to call,” I think to myself. There are several younger men and a few older women milling around the tables that have been placed at the back of the room. A couple of them are looking at the coffee urn, which is making very loud and unpredictable noises, and a few others are arranging the food that will be served as people register. I ask my host if I might speak with the IT person so that I can be sure that my projection slides are properly displayed and that the Internet is working in the room in which we are offering the training. A  young man named Jamie appears—​a youth pastor, I  guess. I  struggle to get my laptop, the folders, my display banner, and some books up to the front. We begin to identify some minor issues that need immediate attention: The power bar to plug in my laptop is at least 25 feet from the podium, the wall on which the slides will be projected has large flowers and Scripture verses painted on it and we need a screen, the wireless connection indicates that a guest password is required, many of the chairs at the round tables have their backs to the front of the room, and the display table on which I have placed “my” copies of “my” books has no one to ensure that I will receive those copies back at the end of the day. The senior pastor, Bill, is now bringing various people to the front to meet me, and as I engage in conversation with each of them, I realize that while Jamie has turned the chairs around, he has not yet located the screen, the cord, or the wireless password. Then I spot him at the coffee table chatting to the volunteers. I assume he must have things “under control.” With 5 minutes to go, the room is filling with younger and middle-​aged women, a few older men on their own, some older couples, and some young people who might be students or ministry interns. Missing are the middle-​aged men and women who might be lead pastors of the various local churches. A lovely, comforting chatter is rising from the various round tables. Cords have been located, coffee served, name tags written, and now I am invited to the podium. The day of training is about to begin. AS THE DAY PROGRESSES

By the end of our first 30 minutes together, four people present have become larger than life. Charles is the pastor of a mainline downtown church that has experienced some numeric decline in recent years. At one time, he was the minister called upon to pray at gala dinners and memorial events. Many noted and well-​off people were regular attenders at his church. However, things are not as they once were. As a result of his loss of influence vis-​à-​vis local community events, he now presents as a rather defensive man, slightly nervous and unsure of himself. But here he is very comfortable—​ he knows one of the judges present, a man who attends his church at Christmas and

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Easter, and he is known by two of the police officers, who are members of more conservative churches in town. Charles has also previously met the director of the local shelter at several fundraising activities. He holds the mistaken belief that abuse is more prevalent among families connected to conservative churches or among the immigrant congregations. He has never been challenged to think that his lack of experience responding to abuse in his congregation says something about him, not the absence of abuse among his flock. Miriam is the minister of counseling at a mega-​evangelical church in the suburbs. She holds a graduate degree in marriage and family therapy and a Master of Divinity degree from a well-​known seminary. She has never met the community-​ based activists in the shelter movement—​women who eye her with some degree of suspicion. Although she is well known and called on regularly by various local congregations that share her faith perspective, she does not know the other clergy present for the training day. A nun who is seated at the table closest to the podium makes a beeline for her during the first coffee break, and one can tell that these two women will exchange phone numbers before their coffee cups are empty. The older Catholic woman will take it upon herself to introduce Miriam to the grass-​ roots workers and offer to them commendation of the important work in which Miriam has been involved. Of all the religious leaders present, Miriam has the most experience dealing directly with religious families in crisis. She is slow to share this, however, because she does not want her expertise and experience to be interpreted by others as evidence that violence is more common in families connected to congregations such as hers. Pastor Li is the first person to take a picture of a slide accompanying my talk; he does not want to miss any of the content of the day’s training. He asks many questions, and often his face shows signs of puzzlement. A casual observer might interpret this as his rejection of the material being discussed; however, this is not so. Pastor Li is engaged in a powerful and sometimes even tormented personal struggle of assessing whether or not he has been unaware of what is happening to the men, women, teens, and elderly who have sought his help. He writes copious notes in the book he has brought. On more than one occasion, he sends a text or types a message to himself about something he needs to do right away. As the day proceeds, Pastor Li becomes very interested in the theological implications of what he is learning. However, he is aware that others in the room do not care so much for this discussion, so he asks his questions in private and during break time. He buys several books at the first opportunity to do so. While others smile and say “hello” to Pastor Li, he sits alone at lunchtime leafing through one of his new purchases. Rhonda runs a batterer intervention program. She is a no-​nonsense woman who speaks her mind. She has little patience for highly religious people and less so for clergy. It is news to her that any religious leader might be part of the solution to domestic violence. In her world, or at least in her mind, they are always a part of the problem. However, Rhonda is a pragmatist. If religious leaders could help her help men change their abusive ways, then she would be willing to work with them. She agreed to attend the training session because her friend, Connie, who runs the shelter, asked her to do so. In fact, Connie promised to go for drinks after the session if Rhonda would come. By hour two of the training, Rhonda has unfolded her arms and opened her mind. By lunchtime, she had agreed to come to Miriam’s church to meet the pastoral staff and inform them of her work.

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LUNCHTIME

Long lines form at the end of the food tables where large bowls of salad, plates of sandwiches, and fresh fruit are arranged. There is a happy level of conversation among those who know one another, and there are many smiles and introductions among those who do not. Many people are checking their cell phones and a few step outside to make a call. Pastor Li asks the organizer if one of his staff can attend the afternoon session even though he has not preregistered. Several people have to leave immediately after lunch: The judge has court, Reverend Carolyn Little has a funeral, Esther is called back to work at the shelter because a staff member has gone home sick, and two of the student interns have midterm tests. Very important things happen during the lunch break. The shelter workers are discussing whether they could ask Miriam to visit sometime during the Christmas period to offer a meditation on “Mary as a single parent.” Three criminal justice workers, two of whom work as parole and probation officers, are talking to a police officer who attends Pastor Li’s church about some culturally specific activities that might enhance the accountability of one or more men with whom they work. The rabbi, connected to a liberal synagogue, is responding to a question about kosher food and explaining that not all Jewish people practice the same dietary habits. And the pastor who has hosted the event is busting at the seams with excitement at how events are proceeding. ROUND-​TABLE DISCUSSIONS

The afternoon has been designed to provide an overview of the challenges ahead, information on local services, and time to process the day’s content and to consider next steps. Various local service providers, religious leaders, and agency workers have been invited to bring pamphlets and other written materials and posters that outline the work that they do. As women and men around the room stand to introduce themselves and their agencies, those who are listening are jotting down reminders for follow-​up purposes. The pastor of a large Baptist church reminds people that the church has multipurpose rooms that are available for meetings and can be booked through the church office. The chaplain from the nursing home asks if there are any students who would be interested in volunteering on Saturdays to take residents outdoors. A younger clergywoman indicates that sometimes she would like police protection when she is called to a situation of violence and asks the officers present how such a request would be received. Pastor Li asks how he might be helpful—​“Just tell me and I will do my best.” The room erupts in applause as social workers, criminal justice workers, and advocates see transformation before their very eyes. THE END OF THE DAY

The day wraps up on time. Thanks-​you’s are offered. People say goodbye to each other and slowly collect their belongings and make their way to the parking lot outside. Miriam and Pastor Li exit together, laughing about how it takes an event such as this to bring people together. Several younger social workers are making plans to have pizza, and one of the police officers asks if she can join them. Olive, an older nun,

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and Betty, a Methodist pastor, are exchanging e-​mail addresses, vowing to get together before too long. Bill and Jamie are already making plans to host a Family Violence Awareness Sunday. Two of the domestic violence advocates whisper to each other with a bit of cynicism written across their brows. One older couple, a pastor and wife who have been in ministry for almost 30 years, thank the host profusely for including them in the initial invitation. Charles leaves the building a bit deflated and slightly overwhelmed. The training day is over. As I collect some of my books (“I am curious who took the newest one?”) and lug my stuff to the car, I am grateful for all that has transpired. I, too, wonder what, if anything, will change. Then my spirit autocorrects, just like my text messages. Nothing would change if we all stayed home! T HE D YNA MI CS OF TRAINING RE LIGI O U S L E A D E R S ON  ISS UES O F ABUSE : THE CONTE XT A N D T H E  C O N T E N T

Throughout the many years we have been offering training to pastors and other religious leaders on issues of abuse, we have learned that both the context and the content of the training are important to consider. We reflect first about the context. This includes both pedagogical issues and the variety of factors that impact upon whether or not the training day will have achieved its most basic of objectives: raising awareness about abuse and identifying some community-​based resources with which to collaborate in response to it. The first 5–​10 minutes of a training event sets the stage for the rest of the day. This is true for attendees, but it is also true for the trainer. Soon after the training begins, there will often be • someone who challenges your authority on the issue of domestic violence; • someone who challenges your authority on matters of faith; • someone who decides to disclose for the first time that she is a victim of domestic violence; • someone who discloses a story in which the religious leader makes matters worse; and • someone who discloses a story in which the shelter staff make fun of a victim’s faith. These are all very important matters, and they cannot be ignored. If men and women present at the training event harbor resistance to attending the event or are wary of the trainer’s expertise, it will impact on the training itself. Furthermore, if someone present discloses his or her personal pain for the first time at a public event, it not only thwarts the person’s own personal journey but also negatively impacts the dynamics of the group. Sometimes, too, there are clergy and/​or secular workers present who want to air their personal struggles of poor working relationships in the community, and that can cause things to derail quickly. As a consequence, then, we believe it is important to deal head on with these issues at the very beginning. Doing so is no guarantee that the training event will run smoothly, but the failure to do so can certainly cause matters to escalate quickly and spiral out of control.

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Therefore, in the first 5 minutes, it is important that you, as the person offering the training, make clear • what you do and do not know about the issue of domestic violence—​your credibility; • what faith credentials you bring to bear—​your story of faith; • what the day is meant to offer and what it is not—​realistic expectations; • that religious leaders can be part of the problem or part of the solution in working with abuse—​making it comfortable for clergy to be part of the conversation of the day; and • that shelter staff can be part of the problem or part of the solution in working with faith—​making it comfortable for community-​based workers to be part of the conversation of the day. A training event that really works takes much planning. There needs to be buy-​in from local religious leaders. If it is to be intrafaith, then sustained thought needs to be given to the selection of the community working group charged with organizing it. If it is to be one Christian denomination alone, then the bishop, district superintendent, elder, or pastor of one of the largest churches in the area needs to be on the working committee. A training event for clergy and religious leaders that is organized by community-​ based workers without the input of such leaders has little chance of success, numerically speaking, in bringing pastors, rabbis, and priests to the event. A training event organized by one religious leader or one congregation can be very successful if the goal is to assist that one church, but it is very difficult to get other congregations and leaders to attend unless there has been someone representing those congregations in terms of organizational involvement from the beginning. Sometimes a denomination will plan a training event that is linked to a regularly scheduled conference or set of meetings. In essence, then, this type of training is like mandated batterer intervention programs in that all pastors are expected to be present by order of the bishop or district superintendent. This can be quite impactful in that it brings everyone to the training irrespective of whether or not they would choose to attend if the decision was simply up to them. Sometimes a local ministerial association will plan a training event and to the extent that the entire group is involved in organizational matters, there can be broad-​based buy-​in. Often, however, it is one pastor or one agency that has the vision that training religious leaders in the area would be beneficial. In these cases, much planning is required to ensure success. Throughout the years, we have observed several settings in which the pastor, or one congregation, is very disappointed with others in the local area for failing to attend the event. We suggest that a minister or a congregation wishing to organize a training day ensure ample preparation time. Planning should start at least 6 months in advance—​ but more time is even better—​meeting monthly in person, on conference calls, or on Skype to discuss what the training event is meant to achieve, who will be involved, how ownership for the event will be shared, how funding will be obtained, and where it will be hosted. Critical questions include the following: 1. Will this be a clergy-​only training or a community event that includes both clergy and community-​based workers?

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2. Will this be focused on a particular religious group or will it be interdenominational or interfaith? 3. How long will the event last? Breakfast only, half day, full day, including an evening before event open to the broader community? 4. Will there be a steering committee, or is this the initiative of one pastor, one community agency, or one church? 5. Will external funding be sought for the event? Will some or all of the cost be borne by registration fees? 6. Will continuing education units (CEUs) be offered to those workers who attend for whom this is a yearly requirement, such as social workers, psychologists, and registered mental health workers? 7. Will a local university class, professor, seminary, or educational program be involved in any way? 8. How will buy-​in be sought? Will various local leaders (e.g., clergy, domestic violence advocates, and criminal justice workers) be involved in a panel or in some other way throughout the day? 9. What materials will be provided to those who register? Will there be books for sale? Will there be other places where workers can bring information from their agencies or churches to share? 10. Will there be any follow-​up planned for the event? In practical terms, given the chasm between parishioner need and religious leader training, there is a great opportunity to offer ongoing community-​level workshops on issues related to intimate partner violence and other forms of domestic abuse. Many women and some men in congregational life will indeed seek help from a religious leader who is not equipped to help them, having little knowledge of the dynamics of abuse and even less understanding of the community-​based services or personnel who are available to help provide them. Later, we consider web-​based resources and training that can augment in-​person training—​innovative strategies that recognize that most pastors are unable to take sufficient time away from their parish to attend the amount of training that would be required to fully equip them for pastoral ministry in this area. However, when religious leaders have received even some training and some experience thereafter in responding to the specific needs of abused religious women, they can act as a bridge between the spiritual questions and religious angst many victims feel and the referral options and resources available in secular, community-​based services. In such cases, pastors find themselves explaining religious attitudes and practices (e.g., the concept of forgiveness) to community-​ based professionals who may not understand the extreme reluctance of highly religious women to follow through with various stages of divorce or court proceedings. Through pastoral counseling, they help women and men to see some of their erroneous religious beliefs or unrealistic religious expectations. They offer support. They offer the possibility of accountability. They can walk alongside those who suffer, bringing the moral and spiritual authority invested in them by their religious tradition. This is very powerful for people of faith. When the pastor condemns the violence they have suffered, or meted out, the words can have greater impact in the life of a religious woman or man than if the same words were spoken by a social worker or parole officer.

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Strategies to Maximize the Impact of a Training Event This section presents suggestions for good practices that enhance a training event and increase the possibility of follow-​up. 1. Establish some ground rules for the training event. Although it might seem self-​evident, we believe that it is important to state clearly the expectations for conversation and questions at the training event. We mention that it is important to respect the diversity of opinion represented by those attending the training. We remind everyone that there will be some present who have their own experiences related to abuse from their childhood home and/​or from a previous or current intimate partner relationship. We emphasize that it is important to understand that no one, including the person offering the training, has answers to all the questions that will be raised. We use this as an opportunity to champion, once again, a coordinated community response. We remind religious leaders that the purpose of this event is to neither advance nor denounce their particular religious beliefs or practices. At this event, we are celebrating the diversity of individual and collective religious experiences. Finally, due to confidentiality issues, we ask that those present do not discuss individual cases with which they have been involved in the larger group context. Even attempting to disguise a local case might not be sufficient. As the trainer, it is important to avail oneself for private conversations at break time or during lunch. 2. Affirm the skills and the educational training of those who are present. Although most people in the community understand the educational training required to be a social worker or a lawyer, fewer community-​based workers understand the educational training required to be a priest or pastor. In addition, although religious leaders may not be trained to deal with issues of domestic violence, they are certainly well trained in theology and practical ministry. This needs to be recognized and mentioned. It can be built into an example or the response to a question from a ministry leader. The same is true for others who might know much about the criminal justice system but virtually nothing about the needs of a highly religious woman victim. By affirming the skills and educational training of those present, the trainer opens the door for everyone to recognize that there is something new for them to learn or to take away from the event. Once most people present view this as an opportunity to enhance what they already know, the stage is set for great dialogue. 3. Harness the strengths of others throughout the day. There are few things more annoying than attending a training event where there is a talking head who never lets anyone get a word in edgewise. Filled with their own self-​importance, trainers who believes that they have all the answers lead the audience members to wish they had never agreed to attend the event in the first place. One way to enhance a training event and to ensure that it yields results that can be followed up locally is to identify and then harness the skills and strengths of others who are present. Sometimes folks need help identifying ways that they can work together. Sometimes they need encouragement to reach out to others who might have

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something professionally they could offer to other workers. Sometimes, and this may come as a bit of a surprise, folks need to be taught how to approach other workers. This seems to be an area that clergy, in particular, find difficult. 4. Recognize the challenges of working together in a community-​coordinated context. Working together to achieve a coordinated community response (CCR) on the issue of domestic violence takes much effort, patience, and infrastructural support. It is not for those who want a quick fix for a problem or those who fail to understand the complexities of the multiple issues facing individuals and families dealing with the experience of abuse. It requires various workers in the therapeutic, criminal justice, and advocacy agencies to understand their own unique roles and to have a firm resolve to work together to end violence in its many forms and to offer best practices to families that suffer, both victims and perpetrators. Adding cultural competence—​and religious competence, in particular—​to the mix of a CCR is an even greater challenge. Many secular workers do not see any particular role for religious professionals. They believe, erroneously, that religion is part of the problem leading to domestic violence, but they do not view religious language or practices as being part of any solution to it. Many religious professionals do not work well with those outside of their own particular faith communities. Within those communities, priests, pastors, rabbis, and others are accustomed to “being the one in authority” and find it challenging to collaborate with people who do not believe that they bring any special skills or authority to bear on this issue. However, there are plenty of examples throughout North America demonstrating that when religious leaders are sensitive and trained to work in the area of domestic violence, their assistance to families of faith can be quite remarkable and indeed transformative. 5. Thank people for their involvement with the issue. The point that is most important here is that it needs to be recognized at any training event that people make choices about how to spend their time. To give up a day to attend a training event takes a toll: Other work still needs to be done, and during the training event a person is likely to be told that he or she is falling short in what he or she is doing at present. This can be discouraging and sometime embarrassing. By recognizing that people have made a choice to attend and thanking them for it, more than once throughout the day, the trainer is modeling best practice for working together in a coordinated community manner. Workers need to appreciate not only the skills that other professionals bring to the issue but also the new demands that a CCR creates. Whereas a domestic violence advocate or a parole officer might receive ample support for his or her involvement in a CCR, it is very unlikely that members of a religious community will praise their clergyperson for such a choice. They are far more likely to view it as one more demand taking their leader away from the day-​to-​day ministry of the flock. 6. Ensure that contact information is provided. Not everyone feels comfortable asking other people at a training event for their business cards or contact information. Not everyone at a training event can foresee the

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ways in which future experiences may require additional contacts. However, many people who attend training events file the information that they receive, including the contact information from other professionals who are present, and access it at a later point in time when it it is useful for them to do so. By ensuring that contact information is available for those who are willing to provide such details, it helps build bridges that later might be crossed. 7. Offer resource information for those attending to take with them. It is very important for those attending a training day to have material and resources that they can consult long after the training event has taken place. This is especially critical because some religious leaders do not believe that they need to be prepared to respond to situations of abuse: It is not until they have ministry experience and see the needs of parishioners that they are convinced and then they need information at their fingertips. Sometimes these resources might be in the form of a handout of the slides that were projected during the presentation. Other times, there may be a listing of local agencies that work in the area of domestic violence or a general guideline covering best practices. We employ web-​based resources (http://​www.theraveproject.org) and spend considerable time at training events discussing the content that is on our website and how to harness the resources that are available. We then provide a tangible reminder of the website, such as a bookmark or a mouse pad, to remind religious leaders to visit our site for information, suggestions, or additional training. We encourage pastors to offer a woman who seeks their help a “tour” of our website in the privacy of their office and suggest that she visit it again at a community resource center or library if it is not safe for her to do so at home. The Content of Training The most effective response to domestic violence is one that is both coordinated and collaborative (Hampton & Gerrard, 2006; Johnson & Dawson, 2011; Stirling, Cameron, Nason-​Clark, & Miedema, 2004). Helping both religious leaders and secular community-​based workers experience the importance of this needs to be a central part of any training exercise. When we are called to offer training in faith-​based contexts, such as seminaries, theological colleges, or churches, we harness our data in ways that make clear how the broader research on domestic violence is relevant to their specific work contexts. This is true for many of the constituencies represented in these environments, including the faculty, students, administrators, and religious leaders engaged in further education. When we are called to offer training in contexts in which there are both secular and religious workers present, we attempt to show how our data speak to the need to include spiritual and secular elements in the journey after violence for families of deep religious commitment. One without the other compromises the process of healing and wholeness for victims as well as perpetrators. In an article titled “When Violence Hits the Religious Home: Raising Awareness About Domestic Violence in Seminaries and Amongst Religious Leaders” (McMullin, Nason-​Clark, Fisher-​Townsend, & Holtmann, 2015), we argue that there are five

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major ways to harness the results of our research program to introduce the subject of domestic violence. 1. The prevalence of domestic violence Domestic violence knows no boundaries of color, class, country, or religious creed. It happens in very religious families and in families with no expressed religious affiliation. It happens to many women and to some men. It happens in traditional family forms, in which one woman is married to one man. It happens in less traditional family forms, in same-​sex relationships, or among cohabiting couples. It happens to older men and women, and it happens often to young women in their early intimate relationships. And, let us be very frank, it happens far too often. This is where the training needs to begin—​acknowledging the prevalence of domestic violence throughout the world and in our own backyards. We think it is very important for those working with families impacted by abuse to understand how we know these things and how they too can become familiar with at least some of the data. In our training, we draw attention to those agencies that have been documenting the prevalence of abuse, such as the World Health Organization and the United Nations Secretariat (Asay, DeFrain, Metzger, & Moyer, 2014; Kroeger & Nason-​Clark, 2010). As we highlight the statistics, we introduce learners to our website (http://​www.theraveproject.org) and show the world map by clicking “Violence Around the World.” By hovering over individual countries, one can see a snapshot about abuse and then by double-​clicking, one is presented with data from individual researchers and government departments. This exercise reveals an undisputed reality for most people: Violence in intimate relationships occurs at an astonishing rate worldwide. This is necessary for seminary students and religious leaders alike to see and understand. However, it is not what draws them in to the content of any training event. The most crucial data for them to process are those regarding violence in families of faith. To do this, we rely on case illustrations from our fieldwork with pastors, church women, and faith-​based agencies. We show how women of faith reach out to their sisters when violence strikes at home, and we reflect on the experience of clergy in assisting families impacted by abuse. We ask the following pointed questions: • When you get up to preach on a Sunday morning, do you ever wonder how many women present have been abused by their husbands? • Do you ever consider what proportion of the couples that you marry experience at least one episode of physical or sexual violence? • Do you help your youth leaders identify and then assist young people who have been harmed at home by parents or sexually assaulted on a date? 2. The severity of domestic violence and its long-​term impact Religious leaders and seminary students are trained to offer hope in the midst of despair. For this constituency in particular, it is important to help them understand the toll that domestic violence takes on victims, and their children, but also on those who act abusively. Part of the training needs to address the broad patterns of violence against women worldwide and to highlight the fear, vulnerability, shame, and

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hopelessness that women often feel (Fortune, 1991; Martin, 1981). There are also myriad structural factors to consider, such as patriarchy and its impact, and issues of power and control (DeKeseredy & MacLeod, 1997; Dobash & Dobash, 1979; Johnson & Dawson, 2011). The intergenerational transmission of violence needs to be highlighted, and we spend considerable time helping religious leaders to realize that violence is learned behavior that is likely to spread unless challenged. We speak at some length about the impact on children who have witnessed domestic violence. It is a widely held belief in some circles—​and even among some women who are being abused—​that if children do not experience abuse themselves, the impact on them is much less severe. We challenge this notion with data, and we encourage religious leaders to help others understand that children are affected even if they are not directly being physically or sexually harmed. From our own data, we highlight some of the ways that religious women are particularly impacted when abused. As mentioned in Chapter 2, name-​calling and the use of sexual slurs, which are offensive to all women, may be especially hurtful to religious women for whom sexual purity has been an important life goal or decision. We highlight as well the sense of abandonment by God that many religious women experience after abuse and the excessive guilt and pressure surrounding notions of forgiveness that many religious women report (Nason-​Clark & Kroeger, 2004). One strategy that we have employed to communicate the longer term impact of violence in the religious home is the “stained-​glass story of abuse” portrayed on our Religion and Violence e-​Learning (RAVE) website (http://​www.theraveproject.org). With the assistance of the artists at the Cranberry Stained Glass Studio on Canada’s east coast, we created the story of abuse as told to us in our research with religious victims and survivors. There are six panes of stained glass that together tell the story of women who have journeyed from victim to survivor. We discussed this at length in Chapter 2, in which we highlighted what we consider a highly creative and beautiful way to honor women’s narratives told to us. Here, however, we draw attention to the usefulness of the stained-​glass story as a teaching tool. In the beginning, pane 1, peace reigns in the family context. As women tell their stories, they almost always begin by reminding us that contact and connections within the family unit were once devoid of violence. This is where their stories begin and where they long to return: family living characterized by peaceful coexistence. This is important for religious leaders to understand. Chaos strikes in pane 2, and life is never the same again. The glass is shattered, peace and harmony vanish and are replaced by uncertainty and fear. Stained glass is an especially powerful visual reminder for religious leaders and seminary students steeped in the Christian tradition. It evokes strong ties to the historic message—​ where it all began. However, its creative potential has the power to transform. For training purposes, pane 2 represents a break with the past: There is no returning to the connections and peace of pane 1. This is often a very difficult concept for religious leaders to accept. It brings to the fore religious and practical questions that need to be addressed. At the very least, it challenges some widely accepted notions of ministry or goals of pastoral intervention. There can be no pretending that things will simply “return to normal.” The brokenness, isolation, shame, and secrecy—​the aftermath of violence at home—​are represented in the third pane of glass. It is here that we introduce the

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important role of walking alongside a victim of violence and offering spiritual comfort as we attend to her very practical problems. Safety is an essential feature at this point—​helping to ensure that a woman and her children are protected from the one who would put their physical or emotional health at risk. It is here that we highlight the important role of calling abusers to accountability. It is also here that we remind religious leaders that some abusive men (or, less likely, abusive women) will call for help after a violent episode looking for forgiveness and a way to bring their family members back home (after they have sought refuge in a shelter or other safe place). Pane 4 focuses on the process of rebuilding—​ways in which lives are reset, reconfigured, and reshaped after violence has torn them apart. This is a time when the pastoral counselor or religiously sensitive advocate can be especially helpful—​helping to pick up the pieces of a broken life. Sometimes, it is not easy for a victim to see the way forward. There are so many choices to be made. The jagged, shattered, shards of glass are rough to the touch. However, they can be harnessed in new ways. Many women in our research have identified the very important role their pastors played in helping them navigate through the fog and despair as the aftermath of violence took its toll. Beauty can be borne from brokenness: This is the message of pane 5. In this portrait, the white dove, representing spiritual strength to overcome even the greatest of challenges, is given center stage. It is a visual reminder that the spirit brings hope. The final pane of glass celebrates new beginnings. Again, the various colors of glass represent diversity, and the connections between them are now visible. Sometimes this last window bears a resemblance to the first one, and sometime it does not. New beginnings are an important part of the journey of faith and the journey of victims—​ and perpetrators—​of domestic violence. As a teaching tool, it is here that we emphasize again that the religious leader walks alongside a woman as she becomes a survivor; the religious leader does not chart the course nor direct it. 3. The unique vulnerability of victims/​survivors when violence strikes the religious home Many religiously committed women seek help from a spiritual leader in the aftermath of abuse. Most often, they are searching for assistance with both practical problems and spiritual questions. As a result, the help they require involves both the language of contemporary culture (issues of a broadly secular nature) and the language of the spirit (concerns that have spiritual undertones). For example, a highly religious woman may believe that it is inappropriate for a believer to seek refuge in a shelter when violence strikes at home. She may believe that if she continues to forgive her abuser, in obedience to the biblical command to forgive seventy times seven, her violent partner will change his abusive ways. In addition, she may believe that it is part of her religious devotion to continue to try to keep the marriage together, even if her own health and safety are placed at risk. Through our research program, we have learned that many highly committed religious women feel pulled between what they believe are the teachings of their faith and their own personal safety and mental health. They may perceive that the congregation’s focus on the importance of marriage, the undesirability of divorce, the primacy of family unity, and the stability of the home for children mean that no matter what the cost, they cannot leave—​read as abandon—​the marriage or the violent home. They accept fully the adage, “You have made your bed, now you must lie in it.”

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As a result, many devoted religious women are reluctant to leave their abusive partner temporarily or forever. They often cling fervently to the belief that if they continue to love him, pray for him, and forgive him, he will change. When he does not, a religious woman will interpret his unwillingness or inability to change as a result of her unfaithfulness to the call of God or her inability to find him help. In our training, we draw specific attention at this point to the unique opportunities that religious leaders or religiously enriched counselors have to challenge these erroneous beliefs. We remind seminary students and pastors alike that they are uniquely positioned to offer assistance in these circumstances—​that the power of the word from a religious leader can transform the experience of a battered believer, offering her hope that help is available and that she is encouraged to step forward in faith. The same words from a social worker or advocate do not carry the same weight of spiritual authority. Herein lies the power and potential of pastoral intervention. As a strategy, we employ the resources of our RAVE website to assist religious leaders in determining how they might offer the assistance that is so desperately needed. The website presents sample prayers, Bible verses that can be read, sermons that can be preached, and brochures that can be placed in church restrooms. Through our training, we highlight the importance of referrals to other sources of help and encourage those in our training sessions to begin to identify the resources available in their own communities. We show how building bridges to community-​ based resources has the potential to become bidirectional so that one day those same agencies and workers may indeed seek out spiritual sources of support to assist religious victims and perpetrators with whom they work. 4. Responding to abuse in families of faith: Safety as the top priority From the earliest days of the transition house movement, it was recognized that safety for battered women and children must be a top priority in responding to situations of domestic violence. Although there is no doubt that those who sounded the call for action most loudly were women sympathetic to the feminist struggle, care for victimized women, men, and children is a central part of the Judeo-​Christian tradition as well. In our training, we highlight that the sacred silence on these issues cannot be traced to the silence of the sacred Scriptures concerning abuse. In fact, from the earliest pages of Genesis, there are examples of family violence:  Cain kills Abel, Tamar is raped, and Hagar is abandoned to care for Abraham’s child on her own. However, there are also countless references to caring for the weak and the vulnerable, bringing peace and safety to the home, and fighting for social justice. In fact, the early Christian believers were admonished to live out their faith so that others would see how they loved one another and in so doing bring both glory to God and attract more followers. An important part of any training for religious leaders is to help them understand that working to end domestic violence is part of their prophetic call to ministry and priestly service to the community. By speaking out and serving with compassion, congregations and their leaders fulfill part of their mission in the world. Once this is understood and accepted, many pastors are willing to move to the next step: learning about best practices in responding to those whose lives have been impacted by domestic violence. There are many elements to discuss, and depending on the length of the training, they usually cannot all be examined. However, we believe that it is important to

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highlight several issues, including the importance of seeing a woman who calls for help alone, without her husband present; the importance of confidentiality and the limits of mandatory reporting for child abuse; understanding the process of forgiveness as a journey that is timetabled by the abused woman herself; the manipulative and controlling strategies of abusers; and spiritual resources to counter feeling abandoned by God. We believe that religious leaders in the Christian tradition can be taught to employ spiritual language to talk about a theology of suffering, the empowerment of a survivor through her relation with a personal God, an ethic of compassion in congregational life, and the call to social justice. We help religious leaders understand that a woman’s safety should not be compromised and her children put at risk. As a result, notions of family togetherness, so important to the religious tradition, must be subservient to notions of the sanctity and the centrality of the preservation of human life. We use role plays to highlight how to respond to a batterer who has sought pastoral help after his wife has left the home to go to a transition house or to guide conversation with a woman who says her life is falling apart but has not disclosed (or perhaps even denied) that she has been (or is currently being) abused. We show how pastors can be manipulated by the abuser and the long-​term nature of the help required by families in which abuse is or has been present. Also, we challenge religious leaders to harness opportunities during events in the lives of their congregation members to say a word—​or a caution—​about abuse and reinforce notions of healthy family interaction; examples of these events include rites of passage such as marriage, the birth of a child, and the death of an elderly parent. Employing some of our RAVE resources, we inform pastors how to highlight the issue in a variety of ways—​through posters in the church office, premarital counseling materials, shoe cards and brochures in the stalls of restrooms, and events during the yearly calendar of the congregation that focus on the needs of a transition house or similar anti-​violence community agencies. We also encourage religious leaders to use secular holidays such as Valentine’s Day, Thanksgiving, Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day to offer a reminder that families suffer when violence occurs at home. 5. The challenges of working around the collaborative table Sometimes religious victims are helped first by their pastor, rabbi, or congregation when violence strikes at home. Sometimes they are helped first by a staff member at a community-​based agency where they have sought assistance in the aftermath of violence at home. Irrespective of whether the first responders are from a secular or a sacred setting, the needs of religious women, men, and families in crisis require both forms of intervention. In general, the offer of practical help without any reference to the journey of faith leaves a religious woman who has been violated feeling that her walk of faith and her quest for safety are working at cross-​purposes in her life. This has the potential to jeopardize her safety and put her life and those of her children at risk. Providing spiritual support devoid of practical help means that she may underestimate the risks for herself and her children and thereby also compromise her safety. This is true for victims and survivors, but it is also true for those who act abusively. A violent religious person who has been encouraged by his pastor or priest to follow through on mandated interventions is more likely than someone not so encouraged to

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attend the groups or the sessions and to keep attending until he has completed all the requirements for graduation. Because working with very religious clients is difficult for many secular workers, collaborating with religious professionals offers assistance to community-​based agencies, thereby increasing their effectiveness. Collaboration involves challenges for both those in agencies and those leading congregations. From the perspective of the religious leader, raising awareness on issues of abuse needs to begin with those who are preparing for ministry in seminary, but it also needs to include those who have already graduated from seminary. We next consider the challenges of working in the seminary context. D O M EST IC VIOLE NCE TRAINING IN  T H E SEMINA RY CONTE X T

It might seem like a very simple question: “How can adequate training about domestic violence be provided for students at theological seminaries?” Our sociological research at accredited theological seminaries, coupled with the experience of members of our team who have taught courses about domestic violence at seminaries, makes it clear that the question is anything but simple. One of the reasons why most seminaries provide little or no training about domestic violence is because they are complex institutions that seek to satisfy a number of disparate constituencies. During our research, references were made to the following constituencies, each of which differs in the way it views the role of seminary training: • Local congregations: Seminary administrators are aware of the desires of congregations in which the graduates of a particular seminary will serve and which provide substantial financial support for that seminary as well as the majority of the seminary’s students. Local congregations are likely to prioritize training in preaching and in biblical studies, theology, youth ministry, and leadership. Many congregations are struggling with the changing social environment, and many are in decline; their first priority is a pastor who can stem the decline and reach a younger generation while providing care for older members. Because domestic violence continues to be well hidden in society and in congregations, for most congregations, training clergy about how to respond to domestic violence remains a low priority. • The Association of Theological Schools in the United States and Canada (ATS): This accrediting body provides rigorous oversight of academic standards in most theological seminaries in North America, and seminaries invest a great deal of effort in ensuring that their curriculum meets those standards. At this time, the ATS has no specific requirement with regard to the inclusion of teaching about domestic violence in the seminary curriculum. Our research at theological seminaries indicates that most students in the Master of Divinity track (which typically leads to parish ministry) receive no more than one 3-​hour lecture about domestic violence as part of a 36-​hour course in pastoral care (and the faculty member teaching the course may not have training or expertise about the specific subject of domestic violence). Some seminaries offer a full course about domestic

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violence, but it is typically not a required course and few students preparing for pastoral ministry enroll in it. Training for domestic violence tends to be offered in discrete courses that are offered as electives and are rarely taken by students who plan to be pastors of local churches. In fact, it may be very difficult for students enrolled in the pastoral ministry track to fit such a course into their schedules amid their other course requirements. • Faculty members: Seminary faculty members typically teach in one of three broad areas: biblical studies, theology/​history/​ethics, and the practice of ministry. The first two are generally referred to as academic disciplines, and faculty members in these areas are less likely to have had experience serving in the role of pastor in a local congregation or parish. Although there are important scriptural texts that need to be interpreted in the context of domestic violence, and there are theological and ethical and historical implications for those learning about domestic violence, it seems to be unusual for those connections to be made in the seminary classroom. It was when speaking informally with some faculty members in those academic disciplines that we were told candidly that they did not know how to teach their students to respond because they would not know how to respond themselves. With no training or experience themselves, they do not attempt to provide the hermeneutical or theological tools that pastors will need. They may view domestic violence as a “social issue” to be discussed, without realizing that actual people are suffering in congregations and that their students will need to respond. On the other hand, among faculty members who teach courses about the practice of ministry, there were concerns expressed about the unpreparedness of their graduates. Yet they are constrained by the curriculum demands. • Administrators: Seminary administrators expressed fears about the unpreparedness of graduates, but they also seemed unsure of how to respond in the face of their many constraints and demands. It was in meetings with administrators that we heard candid comments about explosive situations in congregations that their graduates had encountered without adequate training. • Seminary students: The data collected from focus groups on seminary campuses and from surveys of hundreds of seminary students show the diversity of views among seminary students about domestic violence. Many students (especially single male students with little or no ministry experience) expressed that they were quite naive about domestic violence and about how to respond as a pastor. Fear was one of the most common responses expressed in focus groups. On the other hand, there were also students who had themselves been victims of domestic violence, who had grown up in a violent home, or who had attempted (sometimes with troubling consequences) to respond to the needs of victims of domestic violence. Seminary students often attempt to fit their understanding of domestic violence into a particular ideological framework about marriage and the family, and that ideological framework can make them very resistant to understanding the dynamics of domestic violence in ways that conflict with that ideology. We also encountered international students from cultures in which wife beating was quite acceptable both in the church and in society.

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Those students especially expressed their concern about how to address the issue and help victims when they returned home to pastor churches in which the lay leaders commonly beat their wives. In addition to the previously mentioned constituencies faced by seminaries, there are several other reasons why training on abuse occurs so infrequently in a seminary context. The first of these relates to the wider community and the second to enrollment decline. Seminaries may not be providing adequate training for their students because resources in the wider community (shelters, social workers, and advocates) are not always enthusiastic about assisting with the training of seminary students, especially when the students are male. It will take initiative from the seminary faculty and administration to build bridges to those community resources. Another complication is that overall seminary enrollment has been in decline recently because of a decline in membership among mainline congregations and the resulting need for fewer clergy; because some declining congregations are moving from full-​time to part-​time clergy (Reimer & Hiemstra, 2015); and because among evangelical groups, increasing numbers of congregations no longer require, or even encourage, seminary training for their staff. In summary, as we have shown, any given seminary has many constituencies to whom they are beholden. This may impact negatively their willingness to be involved in training in the issue of domestic violence. When added to this challenge the possibility that the secular community may not be sympathetic to the involvement of clergy in this issue and the fact that seminaries themselves are faced with fewer students, the hurdles become many. There are also some important points to be raised about how learning occurs in many theological colleges. Pedagogy in the seminary context may in fact privilege certain seminary students and certain subject matters. P E DA GOGY A ND THE  SE MINARY CONTE X T

In an article on pedagogy in seminary education, Shaw (2014) writes that contemporary theological education prioritizes linear and logical modes of thinking. He argues that this tends to marginalize all women as well as men from non-​Western countries whose thought processes tend to be more dialectical and able to tolerate more ambiguity. In other words, Shaw asserts that contemporary theological education methodologies are gendered and racialized. Many Christian feminist theologians have long argued for different theological epistemologies (Beattie, 2006; Beavis, Guillemin, & Pell, 2008; Clifford, 2005; Ruether, 1983), noting that theology is not gender-​neutral but, rather, reflects the standpoint of White Western males. Otto Maduro (2012) voiced a similar critique during his presidential address to the American Academy of Religion and invites scholars of religion to consider the complex interactions between epistemology, values, and power structures and how these interactions shape the scientific study of religion in ways that tend to marginalize the poor, immigrants, visible minorities, and religious “others.” Shaw (2014, p. 267) points to numerous studies on culture and learning that reveal significant cultural differences in the ways in which people process information. In order to better respond to the need for the development of creative and visionary church leadership, he suggests that theological education in North America needs

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to be adapted to different ways of knowing by incorporating contextual methodologies that include narrative, poetry, epic, and proverb; multidisciplinary and action research; relational and experiential learning; and forms of “passionate writing” for the church beyond dissertations and scholarly publications. These critiques of the gendered and racialized methods of scholarly education about religion and in seminary training help to explain, in part, the lack of domestic violence training in seminaries, despite calls for this from some religious leaders, such as the Social Affairs Commission of the Assembly of Quebec Bishops (1989). There are multiple theoretical perspectives on the problem of domestic violence as well as a variety of strategies for prevention and intervention, depending on the social location and professional expertise of those who respond. Thus, domestic violence education and training for religious leaders should be multidisciplinary in nature, attending to the cognitive, affective, and behavioral aspects of learning. It must be grounded in the most up-​to-​date social scientific research as well as the stories of victims and perpetrators, and ideally it incorporates the narratives, sacred texts, prayers, and symbols of faith traditions. UNDER STA NDING THE  NE E DS OF SE M I N A RY S T U D E N T S

Approximately 5 years ago, we conducted a study that included four seminaries accredited by ATS. The four seminaries were chosen because in each case there was at least one advocate who was known to be in favor of incorporating materials of domestic violence training into the seminary curriculum. We met with seminary administrators and faculty, held focus groups, and a total of 412 students chose to complete our quantitative survey. We expect that results from these seminaries may be somewhat more encouraging than those from other similar institutions that lack such an advocate. Our research identified a number of challenges related to the introduction of courses on domestic violence into the seminary curriculum. First, courses on domestic violence are usually offered as electives. Students in the Master of Divinity stream—​ those heading for pastoral ministry—​rarely have such courses in their programs because courses in theology and biblical studies are perceived by the seminary to offer greater preparation for congregational ministry. This view is not shared by many seminary students. In fact, we learned that many students feel a degree of fear and apprehension at being asked in the future to respond to issues involving violence at home. Furthermore, those students who have already been exposed to ministry experience in this area also report trepidation due to their perceived lack of preparation. Second, it is well into their seminary experience before students begin to identify the gaps in their training. Our data reveal that first-​year students are quite confident that they will be prepared to meet the demands of responding to the issue of domestic violence by the time they graduate. Students in their final semester before graduation report that they are still either poorly prepared or not at all prepared to respond to the needs of victims or perpetrators. To be sure, one of the messages given to students when courses on domestic violence are absent from the curriculum is that the subject matters little (Van Hightower & Gorton, 2002, p. 864). Although the call for training on domestic violence within a seminary context is not new (Cooper-​W hite, 1995, 2004; Fortune, 1991; Kroeger & Beck, 1998; Wolff, Burleigh, Tripp, & Gadomski, 2001), we found that if it does occur, it happens outside

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the core curriculum. However, within such an environment, there is ample opportunity to introduce the subject of abuse when other possible topics are covered in classes; examples range from preaching classes to youth ministry, pastoral care, and community-​based mission courses. In part, it is not incorporated because those who teach these core courses are not themselves equipped to introduce the topic of domestic violence. However, if it was considered a priority for training, there were many ways to address such a lack of expertise, including inviting guest speakers and using web-​based strategies for raising awareness. After such initial content on domestic violence was given by an external source, the instructor of the course would integrate how such information could be incorporated into the subject matter of the curriculum, be it preaching or evangelism. By examining our data collected from seminary students, we learned a number of important points about their understanding of abuse and ways that students differ from one another in their exposure to the issue (McMullin & Nason-​Clark, 2011). Seminary students state that one of the reasons they believe that women may be unwilling to leave a violent relationship is fear. In fact, this was the most common response of these students to an open-​ended question asking them about leaving an abusive relationship. Interestingly, these same students talked about their own fear in responding to families impacted by violence due to their feelings of unpreparedness. Fear of the unknown future and fear of reprisal are two well-​documented responses of abused women impacting the reluctance to leave an abusive relationship. However, these same factors impact seminarians: They are concerned what will happen if they raise awareness concerning intimate partner violence, and they are concerned that if they intervene, they may make matters worse for the individuals involved or, more generally, for their congregations. Many seminarians are older students embarking on a second career, with ample life experience but also sometimes deeply held beliefs and practices. We found that older students were more likely than their younger counterparts to express higher levels of preparedness to respond to the issue of abuse, but also some older students gave the most troubling answers to our open-​ended questions. The majority (79.3%) of women seminarians had some experience in responding to the needs of at least one abused woman, whereas unmarried male students reported the lowest levels (36.8%). Among several factors that we surveyed, our data from seminarians revealed that a visit to a transition house is the most influential factor in increasing the odds that these students will feel prepared to meet the needs of families experiencing abuse. By meeting one or more workers and beginning to establish a working relationship involving trust, a seminary student is able to receive appropriate guidance that significantly impacts his or her ministry to violated women. U S I N G THE  R AVE WE BSITE TO BUILD BR I D G E S O F  UNDER STA NDING

Our RAVE Project, funded by the Lilly Endowment, was an initiative that developed and tested a wide array of web-​based training and resources on the subject of abuse. Using information from four location sites (Charlotte, North Carolina; Eugene, Oregon; Columbia, Missouri; and Calgary, Alberta, Canada) and professionals involved in four different disciplinary fields (criminal justice workers, therapeutic

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staff, religious leaders, and domestic violence advocacy workers), we created interactive materials on the RAVE website (http://​www.theraveproject.org) that clergy could access to enable them to learn about best practices, guidelines, and responses to women and men impacted by domestic violence. The RAVE Project also offers resources for secular professionals working with highly religious clients, providing ideas and suggestions to enhance their effectiveness. In this section, we highlight several features of this resource and offer some suggestions for maximizing its usefulness. Many people in Canada, particularly those in positions of leadership in public institutions, believe that religion should be solely relegated to the private realm (Bramadat, 2008). The privatization of religion in public discourse is coupled with increasing religious illiteracy: A growing number of people do not understand religion, at best, or, at worst, have erroneous ideas about religion and religious people based on harmful stereotypes (Prothero, 2007). These two trends, the privatization of religion and religious illiteracy, were evident in two studies involving interviews with shelter workers and domestic violence advocates (Holtmann, 2013a, 2016). Among these shelter workers and advocates, there is an attitude and practice of “don’t ask, don’t tell.” With few exceptions, those interviewed indicate that with regard to religion, they let abused women take the lead in deciding whether or not to disclose their religious identity or the role that religion plays in their lives, but they do not ask direct questions. They are open to discussing religion should a woman raise the topic, but education concerning religion or religious diversity was not part of their professional training. Given the prevailing attitudes on the privatization of religion, the likelihood of an abused woman raising the topic on her own is decreased. However, a religious identity is one of multiple identities that women manage because 80% of Canadians (Statistics Canada, 2011b) and 76% of Americans (Pew, 2015) continue to identify themselves with religion. This could be a critical piece of information for service providers in understanding why a religious woman might remain in a violent relationship or why she might return to one at the risk of her safety and that of her children. In order to begin to break the silence concerning religion among domestic violence advocates and shelter staff, the RAVE website offers some resources that can help them begin to learn about the role that religion plays in the lives of women who have experienced violence at the hands of a spouse or boyfriend. Some of these resources are available in the “Women’s Resources” section of the website. One example is the “Women’s Spirituality Circle,” which provides a glimpse of how the experience of violence impacts religious women’s spirituality. Spirituality is an integral part of religious women’s self-​identity and is manifest in beliefs and practices. The “Women’s Spirituality Circle” is a multimedia resource in which a visitor sees a circle of icons that symbolize a circle of women with arms wrapped around one another. When a particular icon is clicked, a quotation from a well-​known feminist theologian is revealed. A second click activates an audio file so that the visitor can listen to the quotation. The following is an example of one of the audio clips: “Spirituality is rooted in desire. We long for something we can neither name nor describe, but which is no less real because of our inability to capture it with words.” That’s a quote from Mary Jo Weaver, the author of the book Springs of Water in a Dry Land [2001]. Perhaps you know about desire. Perhaps your heart has led you to a relationship filled with pain and suffering. Are you questioning the deepest longings of your heart? Are you wondering why love, which was

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so full of life and possibility at one time, has turned into something that makes you feel terrible—​like you’re living in a desert and dying inside? Love isn’t supposed to be about using power and trying to control or harm someone else. Love is about celebrating the gifts of both people in a relationship. Authentic desire doesn’t want to crush someone else in order to feel strong. Desire is for the fullness of life. If your love for your partner has led you to an experience of abuse, it can also lead you out of this place. Remember who you were before the abuse began. Think of the deepest desires of your own heart. Think of the desires you have for the lives of your children. Let your heart lead you to ask for help. In the process of identifying a violent relationship and seeking safety, a woman of faith needs the opportunity to wrestle with her faith. Lived religious practices and beliefs are not static and unchanging. The experience of violence challenges a woman to renegotiate some of her beliefs and practices. The previous quotation raises the religious concept of “desire,” which is rooted in the human desire for connection with the Divine. The quotation encourages religious women to reflect on the experience of desiring and loving someone who is abusive as well as the desire to love oneself and one’s children. Desire can be the source of both vulnerabilities and strengths in relationships. A religious victim may need someone skilled in theological reflection in the face of violence and abuse—​often a religious leader or a spiritual guide. Just as religious leaders need to become familiar with the secular service providers in their local contexts, shelter workers and advocates should familiarize themselves with religious people in their community who can be a resource for women who are renegotiating their faith in relationship to their experiences of violence and abuse. For pastors, the RAVE website is more than just an online reference. It provides instruction about domestic violence that can be accessed in brief time periods in the privacy of the pastor’s office; it also provides a variety of practical resources for pastors, victims, and congregations. Videos can be used to teach a class or to illustrate a sermon. A safety plan can be shared with a victim who is unwilling to go to a shelter. On the website, clergy can also listen:  The voices of women, abusers, and community responders can help pastors to understand domestic violence as more than an issue—​as the experience of real people. For pastors who think that domestic violence could not happen in their congregation, or for pastors who think that a stern confrontation with the abuser followed by a prayer will solve the problem, listening to the real-​life scenarios on the website can provide new understanding of the complexities and the deceptiveness of abuse in a religious context. On the home page of the RAVE website is a section titled “Words of Hope,” which offers the thoughts and voices of 10 workers from various venues within the criminal justice system—​these offer a starting point for criminal justice system employees wishing to learn more about the intertwining of faith and wife abuse. Under the “Resources” tab on the RAVE website, there are numerous subsections that may be useful to those searching for materials, including audience-​specific resources; links for immediate assistance; ideas on how to collaborate with other constituencies involved in this issue; and faith-​based materials such as prayers, Bible studies, sermon ideas, and relevant scriptural versus to offer hope and healing. In addition, there are links to specific training, videos, and downloadable resources. Under the “FAQS” tab, we pose 10 abuse-​related questions, and these are answered by people working from a variety of perspectives, including some from the field of

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criminal justice. Reading these various responses to the questions will provide an overview of issues for those who wish to participate in a coordinated community response to domestic violence. There are many pieces of the puzzle that need to be fitted together in order to better understand the connections between the criminal justice response to wife abuse and faith-​based resources. As we struggle to understand the causes of wife abuse and to work toward ending or, at the very least, reducing this criminal behavior, the collaboration of the sacred and the secular offers great potential, and the RAVE Project website is an excellent starting point for this collaboration. CONCL U SION

From the Victim’s Perspective Equipping religious leaders to respond with compassion and best practices to families in their congregations who have been impacted by abuse is extremely important. It is an incredible relief, not to mention dramatic resource, when the pastor understands some of the dynamics related to abuse and can make appropriate suggestions for the woman to consider on her journey toward healing and wholeness. Throughout the years, we have heard many religious women state that there are many things they wished their religious leader had known before he or she offered them advice. These range from “not seeing the couple together” to “underestimating the fear and angst she is experiencing.” Untrained religious leaders do not have access to their most valuable resource—​ harnessing their religious tradition to bring comfort and assistance to a woman who may believe that God has abandoned her at her most vulnerable point in life. By naming what has happened to her using the language of the Scriptures and her religious tradition, a pastor or rabbi offers solace that cannot be given by someone without religious credentials. When a minister says that “God does not condone the abuse you have suffered,” it goes a long way to bridge the gap she may feel between her faith tradition and the experience of violation and pain. When a religious elder asks her to put safety first, that language is normally translated as permission to seek refuge and solace when the situation at home places her in harm’s way. When the rector says from the pulpit that abuse is wrong, the abused woman is encouraged to come forward for help. By training their religious leaders, faith communities are positioned to reach any family in their midst when violence strikes at home. A small amount of training goes a long way—​leaders learn how to recognize abuse, how to harness their faith tradition to respond, and how to work together with others in their community to support healthy families and to respond with best practices to women and men impacted by intimate partner violence, both victims and perpetrators. Almost any religious leader can do the following to help an abused woman in crisis: • Encourage her to put her safety as a top priority. • Help her to understand that her children are at risk even if they are not the direct targets of the abuse. • Explain to her what the local shelter provides, and give her its contact information.

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• Offer her additional referral suggestions, including police protection, legal advice, psychological intervention, and support group information. • Ensure that she understands that the faith tradition condemns the abuse she has suffered. • Respond to her questions of faith seriously, and offer direct spiritual resources to assist her. • Be available to walk alongside her as she journeys in the aftermath of the abuse. From the Pastor’s Perspective If abused women who are part of a faith community are going to be able to find the safety and the spiritual guidance and support that they need, it will be essential that religious leaders are much better trained to respond to these women’s requests for help than has typically been the case. Our research has clearly shown that most clergy are aware of their lack of preparedness to respond, and the data from our research in theological seminaries demonstrate that training continues to be inadequate. The RAVE website addresses these deficiencies by providing online training modules that can be used by pastors and seminary students. Although the vast majority of clergy would not want any members of their congregations to be victims of violence in their homes, like most people in society, pastors may not understand what domestic violence is or how commonly it occurs, the ways in which it relates to power and control, how to prioritize the safety of the victim, and the ways that abusers manipulate other people. In addition to those common problems, pastors also need specific training with regard to biblical hermeneutics (the ways that Scripture texts about marriage and family are interpreted and applied to abusive relationships), they need to understand how religious language and religious texts are often employed by the abuser to maintain control over the victim, and they need to be taught how to respond when they discover that an abuser is an active member or even a respected leader in the congregation. Pastors also need help in knowing how to address domestic violence publicly in a congregational context, they need to know how to be part of a broader community response to domestic violence, and they need to know how to provide for the ongoing spiritual care of the victims. Unlike other community responders, clergy may find themselves responding not only to the victim of the violence but also to family members and friends who are hurting and to other people in the faith community who may feel betrayed or who may be unwilling to accept or believe what has happened. Pastors also need to be taught how to make the church a safe place for victims to seek help. Help with these issues is provided in two ways on the RAVE website. First, the “Clergy Resources” section provides guidance for pastors about how scripture may be helpful for meeting the needs of a religious victim. There are also a number of sermons from a variety of religious traditions that provide examples of how pastors can effectively address domestic violence from the pulpit. Second, the “Online Training” tab includes both “Mending Broken Hearts,” which presents true accounts of victims of violence and of clergy attempts to respond, and “Stories of Hope and Inspiration After Violence,” which provides insight into the lives and attitudes of abusers. By providing instruction along with real-​life accounts that illustrate the dynamics of abuse, pastors

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can learn best practices about how to respond while also gaining a better understanding of the dynamics of intimate partner violence. From the Advocate’s/​Shelter Worker’s Perspective Many advocates and shelter workers indicate that the type of abuse that women who access their services experience is changing. They are reporting less physical violence and more forms of emotional abuse. This may be an indication that the criminal consequences for those charged with the physical and/​or sexual assault of an intimate partner are acting as a deterrent. This may also be an indication that the threat of physical and/​or sexual violence is enough to enable a husband to control his wife. This is especially the case when threats of physical and/​or sexual violence are accompanied by other forms of abuse, such as making her afraid by using looks and gestures; displaying weapons; verbally insulting her; making her think she is crazy; humiliating her; making her feel guilty; controlling what she does, who she sees, and to whom she talks; justifying his control due to jealousy; blaming her for his abusive behaviors; making her feel like an inadequate wife and mother; threatening to take custody of the children should she leave; or treating her like a servant while he makes all the decisions. Shelter workers and advocates have had a range of experiences interacting with religious leaders. Some are simply unaware of the religious groups in their local area and do not view them as a resource in a woman’s journey toward safety and recovery from abuse. They may view religious groups only as a source of charitable donations that support their work. Some are hesitant to work with religious leaders due to their own personal experiences of religion as a negative influence. For example, a healthy coping counselor at a second-​stage housing facility spoke about having worked for 12 years in a shelter in a rural community. The community was predominantly Mennonite with a diverse range of practices and beliefs, some of which she described as “extremely rigid.” She believed that in many churches in that town, religion was used to shame women, keep them trapped, and worked to keep men in positions of power and dominance. Each time she was in a church and listened to patriarchal religious language, she thought about the oppressiveness of the whole power structure. These experiences served as an affirmation of the work that she did as a feminist using an anti-​oppressive framework. In working with religious women, she encourages them to question the beliefs and practices that keep them from recognizing how they have been or are being abused. From the Criminal Justice Perspective Carol Schnabl Schweitzer (2004) argues that faith communities have the unique language of theological discourse at their disposal in order to aid those involved in abusive relationships. The extension of this discourse into the therapeutic realm seems to provide credibility, assistance, and security to faith leaders, counseling professionals, and those approaching the issue from a criminal justice perspective. However, there is opposition to be dealt with. As Battaglia (2001) notes, “Overwhelming evidence points to the mutually reinforcing relationship between patriarchy and ecclesiastical establishments” (p.  32). This phenomenon contributes to distrust from those who

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bring a secular approach to the issue of wife abuse. Secular sources often have little understanding of the importance of the victim’s beliefs and may attribute her abuse to her religion that, they believe, reinforces passivity and acts as a detriment to effective confrontation of abuse (Beaman-​Hall & Nason-​Clark, 1997; Horton & Williamson, 1988; Nason-​Clark, 1997, 2000, 2001). In addition, religious victims of abuse may experience difficulty receiving sufficient guidance and support because of conflicting advice provided by secular and religious professionals (Shannon-​Lewy & Dull, 2005). Since 2006, in dozens of RAVE presentations throughout North America, we have attempted to include all constituencies around the table—​including those from the criminal justice system. It has become clear to us that many do recognize the usefulness of incorporating a person’s faith perspective in their therapeutic treatment. The RAVE Project thus provides resources to those workers who wish to use this “hook” for intervention. Some workers may have a Christian background and others may not: In both cases, there are a variety of sources upon which they can draw.

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Collaborative Community Responses

Religious leaders can be part of the solution to domestic violence, not just part of the problem. For collaborative work to flourish, there must be some level of mutual respect and practical civility. Some houses of worship are not safe places to disclose that one has been violated or is a violator. Some community-​based agencies are not safe places to disclose that one is religious. For cooperative and collaborative community-​based initiatives to thrive, these challenges must be addressed and overcome. In this chapter, we outline various examples and strategies for working together in a coordinated manner to reduce intimate partner violence and to respond with compassion and best practices to those who are impacted. T HE ST ORY OF BUILDING A COALITIO N

Judith Starkey is the executive director of a large women’s shelter and outreach service. She is a warm but no-​nonsense kind of woman. Trained as a social worker, Judith speaks the language of care and compassion and has a vast understanding of the constraints and vulnerabilities facing the people with whom she works. She is cautiously optimistic about most things—​in her own life, with colleagues and women residents, and in the broader community in which she is constantly networking to establish, or enhance, partnerships with her transition house. The work to end domestic violence is never far from her mind, and sometimes the struggle almost consumes her. “Struggle” is a word that Judith understands well. With accommodations for more than 30 women and their children, and a staff of 12, Judith has a very demanding schedule. Like many of her co-​workers, Judith

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experienced domestic violence first-​hand. Although she is university trained and professionally credentialed, Ms. Starkey has a deep and personal connection to the struggle to end domestic violence. She saw her mother battered and bruised by several different men, and the father of her own child harmed her deeply. She has little patience for those in the community who underestimate the prevalence or severity of intimate partner violence, especially if their ignorance puts women and children at risk. Whereas the women residents at the shelter, and her staff, regard Judith as a formidable force for the cause of the abused woman, Judy views herself as someone without the adequate resources to do her job properly. She is always chasing money—​one grant application after another; one plea or speech, followed by another for special projects or operating funds. It is not an enviable position, to be sure. She knows that her staff members are overworked, but she also knows that there are so many women and children in the shelter and in the community who need the shelter’s information and services. It is easy for Judith to feel overwhelmed by the demands that are placed on her, but she is mindful of the value of self-​care for herself and those with whom she works. As a result, she tries to lead a balanced life, but this is easier to talk about than to practice. As a single parent who earns a modest salary, she always needs to have budgeting on her mind—​at work and at home. Throughout the years, Judith has observed changes in the diversity of women at the shelter and in the community in which the shelter is located. In the downtown core of the city, there are a growing number of immigrant families. Judith has identified reaching out to the community’s newcomers, especially those who have come from abroad, as a priority for program development. In fact, it is very important to her that the shelter be respectful of all women’s cultural and religious experiences, but at a practical level, this is very difficult. Most of her staff do not have specific knowledge or life experiences that would enable them to talk authoritatively to Muslim women, Mormons, or Pentecostals. In fact, highly religious women of any tradition are difficult for the workers at the shelter. At times, individual workers blame the religious backgrounds of certain women for the abuse they have endured. At times, religious leaders give advice that causes women to be placed in harm’s way, and women at the shelter share this with the staff. Notwithstanding these difficulties, Judith has been diligent in helping others to understand that many religious leaders—​representing a variety of faith traditions—​ speak out against violence in its many and varied forms. She often cites examples from the coordinated community response round-​table of which she is a member and has served in past years as its leader. Judith remains committed to working together with others in the community, including the religious community, to raise awareness about abuse and to intervene with understanding and best practices to victims and perpetrators alike. Reverend Peter Browning is a middle-​aged pastor of a downtown congregation that prides itself on a history of engagement with social justice issues. Whereas many outsiders view his church as thriving, Peter believes that it is always a bit of a struggle to ensure that the bills are paid, the needs of his flock are met, and worship services reflect the mission of the church and draw a sufficient number of people. He sometimes feels caught between the pressures from the denomination and the reality of life for people in the pew. He also sometimes feels caught between the needs of his aging

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congregation and the young, the poor, and the vulnerable that live in the neighborhood surrounding his old historic church. Pete, as he likes to be called, became an advocate for abused women through the experience of his sister, who at one time was married to a violent religious man. Early in his ministry, Rev. Browning was unaware of the nature of abuse and its prevalence, especially in households of faith. Like so many clergy, he believed that abuse was a specific example of a relationship that needed repair and a couple who needed to enhance their spiritual lives. Watching his sister suffer and then summon the courage to leave her abusive partner galvanized within Pete a strong sense that pastors need to be shepherds of their congregations and offer hope and help to families in crisis. Throughout the years, he has become even more committed to assisting abused religious women. Some of Peter’s colleagues have failed to understand his passion to work with violated women or with men who batter or control their partners. Some of his congregation also have failed to see his vision: They get tired, as it were, of his investment of time and energy in this social issue to the exclusion of other important ones. However, Rev. Browning has been steadfast—​never neglecting the needs of his congregation but always having an open door for abused women, abused men, and people who act abusively. Approximately 10 years ago, Pete invited Judith to make a presentation in his church on issues of domestic violence. Since that time, they have had many occasions to work together, to refer to each other’s expertise, and to invite others to work collaboratively with them to host a special speaker or to raise awareness through a campaign for the shelter. When Judith was invited to be part of a city-​wide coordinated community response team on domestic and sexual violence, she suggested to the initial organizers (who were criminal justice staff) that they also invite Rev. Browning. Judith and Pete have both been instrumental in helping the coordinated community response team include religious leaders. Judith has no particular religious practices that link her to any specific faith tradition, although she would identify herself as being a spiritual person. Pete would claim that he has learned much from Judith throughout the years. Judith says that Pete has changed forever her view of pastors and other religious people. They laugh about their differences and celebrate each other’s strengths. They like to work together. They value the divergent perspectives that each brings to the imaginary community table. Also, their combined efforts have borne fruit, including successful intervention in the lives of deeply religious abused women. During the past few years, Judith and Pete have been joined by a host of others in their community-​based efforts to end domestic violence through a coordinated response. Sam Jacobs is a police officer who attends one of the multi-​ethnic churches in town. He likes to tease Pete, suggesting that Pete leave the denomination where he is ordained and join instead the charismatic Pentecostal congregation in which Sam is so involved. Sam has been a police officer for many years, but he is a relative newcomer to the domestic violence unit. In the unit’s need to represent ethnic diversity, Sam, a Latino, was chosen. He resisted at first, but after some initial training and a few months of experience, he became one of the unit’s most outspoken advocates for women and children. Sam sometimes brings his two sons to community-​based events; he believes that one of his most important roles in life is to raise sons who treat other people well. Casey White is a young, very enthusiastic probation and parole officer who is a lapsed Catholic. Before meeting Sam and Pete, Casey would never have revealed anything about his Catholic upbringing in a work setting. Casey is pretty skeptical about

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priests and pastors, but then again, he never thought he would work so well with those religious types or those feminists such as Judith. He sometimes jokes that his girlfriend cannot believe how Judith and the work at the shelter have impacted him for good. Casey hopes to return to university some day and complete a graduate degree—​ maybe even go to law school. He has big dreams and a strong work ethic. He is always on board for extracurricular events that would highlight the call to have men behave differently toward others, including their intimate partners. Susan and Josephine are facilitators at the batterer intervention group in town. They see men at their worst and say so on a frequent basis. Both women have been involved in the domestic violence sector for many years. Pete goes out of his way to let them know that he believes the work they do is very important. Although they regard many religious people as totally uninformed, and religion as a crutch for the vulnerable, Sue and Jo have grown to like Pete as a person. Neither woman is able to attend the coordinated meetings regularly like they once did: Sue’s aging mother and teen boys place fairly heavy demands on her “spare time,” and Jo has some of her own health issues. Both women are weary from having to convince others that a coordinated effort is needed. They are also weary from so many years of seeing so little progress—​in the batterer intervention programs and in the broader community of which intimate partner violence is still very prevalent. Occasionally, the district attorney’s office sends a representative to one of the meetings, and sometimes a local judge who hears domestic violence cases attends as well. A few of the younger social workers who are employed with the child protection unit have involvement when they are first hired, before their caseloads burn out their enthusiasm for any additional responsibilities. Trina Crowchild, a victim’s advocate, attends sporadically, as does B. J. Bearpaw from the addictions unit at the local mental health clinic. Both Trina and B. J. bring additional ethnic diversity to the team, but given their impressive skills and personal characteristics, this is something they are called upon to do in other work contexts as well. From year to year, the actual composition of the coordinated team changes, but there is a committed core that has remained in place for a sustained period of time. From meeting to meeting, who actually attends depends on fluctuations in the yearly calendar as work schedules are stretched to meet multiple demands. However, almost everyone on the broader coordinated initiative attends some of the time and responds quickly to e-​mail and text exchanges from others in the group. The awareness campaigns in the community are well attended by most of the team. There is ongoing evidence that each person connected to the coordinated community response has internalized part of the team’s vision and its goals and, in so doing, has incorporated the spirit of the team as they go about various responsibilities in their day-​to-​day work context. This impacts the work to end domestic violence at the community level in many different ways. A N OVER VIEW OF FOUR E X AMPLE S

We begin our discussion of the collaborative community response to intimate partner violence by examining four different location sites where we have been involved in the work and consider both the challenges and the solutions that are raised in these varied contexts. We do not seek to compare these locations from an evaluative standpoint.

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We are telling their stories as we understand them. We are searching for areas of overlap and uniqueness. Also, we are particularly focused on understanding the role of religion, spirituality, and religious leaders in coordinated community efforts on the issue of domestic violence. We offer a focus on the place or geographical location, the people who are involved, and some of the priorities and programs that have been established. Once we have provided an overview of these examples, we consider broader principles concerning both the challenges and potential solutions to collaboration. The Calgary Example Calgary is a large metropolitan city that lies in the southern part of the Canadian province of Alberta, approximately 50 miles east of the Rocky Mountains. It is home to the world-​famous Calgary Stampede and was the first Canadian city to host the winter Olympics. With a population of 1.15 million, including more than 28,000 aboriginal people, Calgary boasts a well-​developed coordinated community response to domestic violence that includes both docket and trial specialized courts. This system accelerates the consistent handling of domestic violence cases, and here the most common case disposition, according to Judge Sherry Van de Veen (2004), is offender treatment (79%), followed by alcohol/​substance abuse assessment and treatment (52%). The Calgary response to domestic violence has been deeply impacted by the collaborative work of the HomeFront Society for the Prevention of Domestic Violence (http://​homefrontcalgary.com). HomeFront coordinates criminal justice and community responses and has developed protocols with 52 agencies, including hospitals, shelters, aboriginal organizations, and child welfare agencies (Ad Hoc Federal–​Provincial–​Territorial Working Group Reviewing Spousal Abuse Policies and Legislation, 2003). HomeFront Calgary includes a specialized domestic violence court, extensive partner support, a domestic violence conflict response team, a high risk management initiative, and early intervention and outreach programs for children. Here, the work of collaboration is celebrated with community awareness events and many local initiatives to ensure that its funding base is solid, indeed growing. HomeFront has a vibrant social media presence, interesting infomercials that air on television and radio, and a variety of posters and other tools to keep the issue of domestic and sexual violence before the public. Although it would be inaccurate to suggest that HomeFront itself was involved in establishing all the culturally sensitive and culturally appropriate services available in the city, it played a key role in recognizing what was already happening at the grassroots level and encouraging and fostering a climate in which the work of others was recognized and rewarded and, perhaps most important, included in any coordinated efforts. For our discussion here, one of the most amazing things about the Calgary example is that religion/​spirituality has been considered important, and religious leaders have been consulted and involved from the beginning. In part, this is a reflection of the passion and determination of a social activist, the Very Reverend Robert Pynn, an Anglican priest, now retired from having served as dean of the Cathedral. In part, this is a reflection of a significant aboriginal presence in Calgary and the development of culturally sensitive services and programs for aboriginal women and men related to domestic and family violence (as well as past abuses in the residential school system).

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In part, this is reflection of vibrant, very diverse, immigrant communities such as the Khmer-​Canadian community, whose religious leader has chosen to work with the organization FaithLink to combat domestic violence (Sevcik, Rothery, Nason-​Clark, & Pynn, 2015). In part, this is a reflection of the diversity of workers in the various agencies—​Christians, Muslims, Jews, and others—​who incorporate their spiritual understanding when called upon to do so. In 2002, a secular treatment agency in Calgary began offering group treatment sessions for aboriginal men. This program was formed in recognition of the fact that the cultural differences of aboriginal abusive men require culturally appropriate and responsive services (Zellerer, 2003). The agency brochure described the program as “an 18-​week domestic violence group counselling program for Aboriginal men. The program is grounded in the teachings of the Medicine Wheel and is informed by Aboriginal culture, identity, traditions and values.” Kiyoshk (2003) skillfully makes the case for the integration of spirituality into the Change of Seasons domestic violence treatment program for aboriginal men in western Canada.1 In this program, every third session is a cultural activity (e.g., smudge, talking circle, sweat lodge purification, pipe ceremony, and ceremonial dancing) that augments the psychoeducational group format. He argues that ritual and ceremony are integral to counseling in the aboriginal community because their culture has a strong spiritual basis. The key to his argument is that because the survival of First Nations’ people has depended on a worldview that does not separate spirituality from everyday life, this characteristic, which has been reinforced over hundreds of years, also ensures success in counseling assaultive men. Aboriginal spirituality differs from mainstream religions in that it is an “individual path, it’s not so much a religion but a way of living.” Examples of spiritual aspects of the group process are briefly described by two Calgary area therapists we interviewed, the first of whom said the following: The groups begin and end with a spiritual ceremony starting with a prayer and then smudging with sweet grass and sage. . . . We want to work with the whole person not just a segment of the person. When you try to do the clinical part without the spiritual there is a chunk missing. A big part of who we are is the spiritual part. The second therapist also discussed spirituality: We introduce smudging as a way of creating a common bond between us all and some guys won’t. We bring in a feather that is starting to build respect. The feather is representative of respect. We use that as a talking thing and then give them the responsibility of looking after that feather. Some of them have never had that before so we slowly introduce them to the culture because you don’t know what these guys already know. In Calgary, as elsewhere, there has been a mutually reinforcing bidirectional relationship between the people involved and the place where such involvement has been birthed and nurtured. A city the size of Calgary has a critical mass of deeply religious people involved in various professions and agencies. They, too, have been a critical part of the Calgary story. There is a faith-​enriched shelter and another shelter that has

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chosen to make space available to a variety of religious leaders in order to develop and offer culturally sensitive programming to residents. Jewish Family Services provides a range of programs for families connected to the entire spectrum of the Jewish faith, from orthodox families to members of liberal or reform synagogues. One of the local rabbis was especially connected to the interfaith initiative, providing advice and support as it has sought to make inroads into all facets of the domestic violence sector in Calgary. In addition, a wide variety of women and men who are ordained clergy from liberal as well as more conservative evangelical churches in the area have cooperated and solicited each other’s advice and support for work among abused religious women. Best practices have been developed and shared, and events have occurred in various congregations to which other religious leaders and people have been invited and included. In Calgary, it was the strength of a particular coordinating agency, HomeFront, that was critical. However, also critical was political clout and the development of the Mayor’s Task Force on Domestic Violence. According to one of the therapists we interviewed in Calgary, “[The mayor] said, “I am going to take a stand on this issue.” He was the key driver in making it happen. . . . [Now] DV is off the landscape and we don’t have political clout anymore. . . . You need a political champion.” However, clearly in the early days of the development of HomeFront, perhaps when it was most important, there were many champions, including some holding political office. Box 6.1 presents an exchange between one of the authors (Nancy) and two directors (one current and one past) of HomeFront that highlights some of the features they believe are critical for the development of collaborative work. The full interview is available at http://​www.theraveproject.org. The Eugene Example At the southern edge of the Willamette Valley, in Lane County, lies the city of Eugene, Oregon—​population 150,000. Home to the University of Oregon, Eugene has two rivers running through the city—​the McKenzie and the Willamette. Interestingly, Oregon is one of two US states with the highest proportion of religious-​unaffiliated individuals and residents who self-​identify as non-​religious: 17% of Oregonians classify as non-​religious compared to the US average of 7% (see http://​www.Adherents. com). In addition, Eugene is home to the largest faith-​based batterer intervention program in the country, one of the main reasons why we chose it as a site to study the collaborative model. Eugene has a well-​developed community-​based system of advocates and organizations working to end domestic violence—​the Lane County Domestic Violence Council. This group maintains connections between numerous constituencies, such as law enforcement, child welfare, state and local government, disabilities services, mental health, public education, survivors, various nonprofits, and other human service professionals. Womenspace, an organization offering a plethora of drop-​in and residential services for victims/​survivors as well as legal aid and advocacy programs, serves the women of Eugene and is an instrumental player in the coordinated community response. The partnerships that have been forged between Womenspace and other agencies are strong, and it is noteworthy that quite early on in their professional careers, the

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Box 6.1 Discussion with HomeFront Directors About Critical Features for the Development of Collaborative Work Nancy: Tell us a little about your passion for the work. Kevin: When I was a private counselor, I was saving one person at a time. And now we are talking about many thousands. Also I have the opportunity to work with a variety of people. We have a window that other people do not have. Maggie: A long time ago, I stumbled into it. I had no concept of it and found that I had a knack for it, somewhat of a gift. Initially it was about the one starfish thing [pick up one starfish at a time] and it still is that. When I get the opportunity to do some intervention on a case with one of the staff, or talk to people outside the courtroom . . . it’s like golf. One good shot and it makes it all worthwhile. Nancy: People look at HomeFront and say this would be impossible to do somewhere else. What do you believe are the key reasons why it works so well in Calgary? Maggie: Getting the right people at the table. It doesn’t have to be a large city endeavor, as long as you have the police, Crown, victim services and then buy-​in from some of the community resources. Nancy: What are some of the key features to helping bring the faith community alongside in Calgary? Kevin: Champions, like Bob Pynn . . . Andrea Silverstone . . . within the Jewish community. Maggie: Willingness to have the conversations, to be open to it. Even on the front lines, we have those case workers who have those conversations when doing intakes . . . dialogue happens.

executive director of Womenspace and the executive director of Christians Against Family Violence met each other and grew quickly to appreciate and value each other’s contributions to the lives of abused women, abusive men, and the ongoing struggle to reduce domestic violence. In this local area, the faith-​based agency Christians Against Family Violence (CAFA), later renamed Christians as Family Advocates, has been very instrumental in bringing spiritual and religious issues to the fore. In this most secular environment, CAFA has established itself as a very well-​respected provider of state-​certified batterer intervention services, although it was not in receipt of any monies from the state to do so. One of the ongoing challenges in Eugene, however, involves bringing religious leaders to the collaborative table. At first glance, this seems like a context in which the credibility of the faith-​based agency would have indeed paved the way for religious leaders and religious issues to be regarded as part of the collaborative community response to domestic violence. However, this has not been the case. There are several reasons why this might be so. First, the tremendous success of CAFA, including the recognition of its contribution by a wide variety of secular criminal justice and advocacy workers, might preclude an uninformed religious leader from believing that he or she has a unique contribution

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to provide around the coordinated table. Individual ministers might believe that the religious perspective is covered, so to speak, by the involvement of CAFA staff, who self-​identify with a variety of Christian traditions. Second, religious leaders might be intimidated by the success of CAFA and be wary of either undermining the authority of CAFA or revealing their own personal inadequacies related to intervention in families experiencing crisis. They shy away, then, because they do not believe they are any match for the competencies of the CAFA staff. Third, in most religious traditions, there is a clerical hierarchy on matters of faith and practice that holds to the notion that it is the ordained leaders, or full-​time ministry staff, who are best equipped to bring spiritual help to the hurting. As such, religious leaders might feel some reluctance to work alongside professionally credentialed, faith-​enriched men and women in contexts in which the clergy are not in the leadership role. During the years we have worked alongside the team in Eugene, we learned that CAFA was always more successful in partnering with secular agencies and their individual workers than with religious organizations and their leaders. It is important to note that some secular staff were not aware of their faith-​based inclinations, but most were aware. We never once heard anyone—​criminal justice workers, advocacy staff, or others in the therapeutic community—​state that their work with hurting families was compromised by their religious beliefs. Throughout the years, staff in other agencies had a chance to assess its impact, and they were pleased with both the working relationship of the agency with others in the community and the level of service provided to their (joint) clients. Also, unlike the Charlotte experience, very few of the workers employed by these secular agencies were people connected to the various faith traditions linked to CAFA through the lives of their staff. The story of the development of CAFA revolves around the life of Carolyn Rexius, a social worker by training, an evangelical Christian by commitment, connected by marriage to a very influential and wealthy family. What began as an initiative of a few friends trained as therapists has grown into an impressive suite of services and programs for hurting men, women, and children, including a state-​certified batterer intervention program that has up to 200 men per week in groups (most of whom are court mandated). Carolyn and her staff are very active in community collaborative events related to domestic violence. They go out of their way to build bridges with criminal justice and advocacy workers. By their own accounts, they have been less successful in building bridges with religious leaders—​perhaps to the very people one might have expected would be the most supportive of their tremendous efforts and passion. Box 6.2 presents a short exchange with Carolyn Rexius. It introduces some of her vision and the story of CAFA. Interested readers can consult their website for more information (http://​cafaweb.com). The Columbia Example The university town of Columbia, Missouri, is located in the heartland of America. This Midwestern city of approximately 100,000 people is situated in an otherwise quite rural area approximately halfway between St. Louis and Kansas City. In addition to the large University of Missouri campus and some smaller colleges, the city includes a variety of religious congregations, several of which had leaders who expressed interest in contributing to our research and testing the RAVE website materials. We also

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Box 6.2 Discussion of the Vision and Story of Christians as Family Advocates Nancy: Can you describe for us your passion for the work that you do? Carolyn: Normally I wear a gold necklace, with an angel, and that reminds me of my passion. It represents my grandchildren who have enormous love surrounding them . . . and many people have not had that opportunity. And I think that people who hit in the context of a relationship are definitely people that have not had those opportunities. And I love connecting with people that are unconnectable. And seeing them . . . watch them warm, melt, glow in being known and in that process they become better people. And I become a better person too. Nancy: How do you replenish your strength to keep on with the work? Carolyn: Outside or inside? [Inside] Lots of humor, lots of food, pizza practically every week. Outside, I  take lots of vacations. And the other process is intellectual—​curiosity. It satisfies, like a burst of endorphins in your brain and so my weeks of vacation, I am always reading and trying to find things to bring back to the work that will make a difference. The work energizes me. I don’t deny that it is hard work.  .  .  .  There is a lot of responsibility.  .  .  .  I  think that to be wealthy is to do work that you love and to do it on your own schedule. . . . I am a blessed woman. Nancy: Can you rewind the tape back to the beginning days of CAFA? Carolyn: The name CAFA comes from when we first started. I  thought that I  would be developing intervention for church women to use at their kitchen table to help women who were experiencing violence. CAFA was close to coffee. And that is how we started . . . doing the important front line piece of that. I had no intention of working with the husbands. Nancy: Is your constituency still the women? Carolyn: Yes, but we are coming through a different door to help them. . . . But the people we were going to help did not set up to be helped in the way that we thought. Women did not go to the next door neighbor’s table, they went to support groups. Source: This selection is from a longer segment with Carolyn Rexius that was prepared several years ago for the RAVE website (http://​www.theraveproject.org) under the tab “Domestic Violence Leaders.”

interacted with the staff of the Relationship and Sexual Violence Prevention (RSVP) center on the university campus, with the staff of the local women’s shelter, and with law enforcement and criminal justice officials. Columbia provided the opportunity to work with a local noted scholar of religion, Dr. Mary Jo Neitz, a member of the faculty in the Department of Women’s Studies at the University of Missouri, and her (then) graduate student, Kendra Yoder, a Mennonite woman, trained and formerly employed as a social worker with many years of experience in the shelter movement. Here, we explored in particular the relationship between religious leaders, academics, and community experts and how partnerships develop in a small Midwestern city.

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The collaborative partnership in Columbia also led directly to cooperation between the Salvation Army in Missouri and RAVE that included a webinar in which Salvation Army officers from throughout Missouri and southern Illinois were trained about responding to victims of domestic violence. Reverend Kim Gage Ryan at Broadway Christian Church was a local leader in addressing and seeking to prevent domestic violence in Columbia. Her interest led to one of the most important developments during our years of fieldwork in Columbia: the Teen Relationship Education and Empowerment (TREE) program. TREE offered workshops and training events for youth leaders in congregations, created programming to help Columbia churches address teen relationship violence, and established a lending library of resources for congregations. The data from Columbia were especially helpful in making clear some of the unexpected differences between mainline and conservative Protestant responses to domestic violence. Battered women face different challenges based on faith tradition. Conservative Protestant clergy may condemn the violence but are more likely to emphasize marriage preservation, whereas mainline Protestant ministers may recognize that domestic violence is a problem in the wider community but be unwilling to believe that domestic violence exists in their congregations, thereby reducing the likelihood that women will seek help there. The conservative Protestant clergy in Columbia were more likely to have referred religious victims to the local shelter, but they had had little actual contact with the shelter and did not know the staff. Most mainline church clergy had more knowledge of the shelter and its staff, but they had rarely referred anyone. The leadership at the shelter in Columbia expressed interest in understanding how better to respond to the spiritual needs of religious women who accessed their programs. In Columbia, we saw the very important role of women clergy in congregations in which gender impacts both their experience of ministry and the priority that is offered to issues of domestic violence. One luncheon meeting facilitated by RAVE, composed of eight local clergywomen along with local shelter workers, provided important insights regarding some of the ways that clergywomen interact with victims of domestic violence and their families and how they address the issue in the community. Five of the clergywomen were serving in ministry in mainline congregations, one woman was from an African American congregation, and two were from an evangelical congregation. The differences that became apparent between the African American and evangelical women, on the one hand, and the mainline church clergywomen, on the other hand, were very informative. The mainline church women were much more aware of the history of the shelter movement and of contributions that feminist thought and action have made toward addressing domestic violence. Among those five mainline church clergywomen, it was apparent that they believed domestic violence was an important issue for their congregations to address, but at the same time it was equally obvious that most of these women had little or no experience with actually responding to religious victims in times of crisis. Their knowledge of domestic violence seemed more academic than practical. In contrast, the African American and evangelical clergywomen expressed their desire to better understand how to respond effectively and appropriately to the needs of victims and their families while also expressing that responding to victims was something that they were called upon regularly to do. When a pastor at an evangelical church shared that she felt overwhelmed by the number of women victims

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who approached her for help and when the African American clergywoman said she needed resources in order to know how to address the problem of abusive men in her congregation, their comments were received unsympathetically by some of the other women. “If an abused woman should ever come to me for help, I would know how to respond,” said one of the mainline church clergywomen. Her dismissive rejoinder was meant to criticize the admitted unpreparedness of the evangelical and African American pastors, but her comments also showed that despite her self-​assessed preparedness to respond, no victims had ever approached her for help. Only one of the five mainline pastors seemed to have had more than a theoretical understanding of how domestic violence affects the lives of religious women. That same difference was similarly obvious during individual conversations in Columbia with pastors of mainline and evangelical congregations. Among evangelical pastors, with the exception of those from one very large congregation, none who met with us had ever had any direct contact with the local shelter or its staff, but all of them admitted that they believed that domestic violence was likely a problem in some homes in their faith community. A majority of them said they had responded to victims of domestic violence by encouraging them to contact the local shelter for help. Evangelical pastors repeatedly expressed to us their unpreparedness to respond to the needs of victims; when they were guided through the RAVE website, they expressed gratitude for making helpful online resources available for clergy. The response from mainline church clergy was markedly different. In the most memorable incident, while I  (Steve) was demonstrating the RAVE website to the pastor of a large mainline congregation, I pointed out some resources that could be helpful for a religious victim of domestic violence. He interrupted my presentation and asked what I  meant by a religious victim. When I  responded that it might be helpful for a member of his congregation who was being battered, he quite forcefully responded that he had been the pastor of that congregation for 9 years and that during those years there had never been a single incident of domestic violence. He also stated that such an incident would be very unlikely to occur because of the church members’ levels of education and because of the congregation’s liberal theology. He then suggested that my time would be better spent among pastors in the Springfield, Missouri, area, where he assured me that because of the large number of conservative churches located there, the incidence of domestic violence would be far higher than in Columbia. What the pastor was unaware of (and I was not at liberty to tell him) was that a staff member at the local shelter had confidentially shared with me that an unusually large number of women from his mainline congregation had been accessing their programs for victims. The conversations and meetings with a large number of clergy in Columbia showed that a variety of religious ideologies can make effective responses to domestic violence more difficult. In the case of evangelical and African American clergy, an ideology that focuses on preserving marriage and family and on forgiveness and redemption, along with a lack of understanding of the dynamics of domestic violence because of little, if any, training, has the potential to place victims in greater danger or to convince them that there is no escape from the violence if they are people of devout faith. For mainline church clergy who tend to feel much better prepared to respond, an ideology of denial that maintains that “those problems do not happen in our kind of church” keeps domestic violence almost completely hidden and makes it nearly impossible for victims to approach their religious leaders for help or guidance or even to know that there

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are other victims in the same congregation. They will suffer alone until they reach out for help to someone outside of their faith community. At the clergywomen’s luncheon, dismay was expressed by the mainline women that more clergy, especially male African American and evangelical pastors, had not attended previous meetings about addressing domestic violence in the community. In a subsequent conversation with two pastors of a theologically conservative congregation, they expressed their appreciation for the RAVE resources, but the senior pastor said that they would never attend a presentation or meeting about domestic violence that included mainline clergy in their city because it was too hostile an environment. In other words, the reason why evangelical pastors did not respond to invitations to collaborate about domestic violence at the community level was not because of their lack of interest or concern but, rather, because of attitudes such as those of the mainline church pastor who blamed the problem on conservative churches. Even at the clergywomen’s luncheon, the African American pastor’s comment about needing resources to respond to men who are batterers was met with some hostility from the mainline clergywomen who were present. Working with different church groups in Columbia demonstrated the importance of establishing religious credibility in order to facilitate partnerships. Among mainline clergy, it was important to show a strong appreciation of the church’s role in social justice and to establish the academic foundation of our research and resources. Among conservative Protestant pastors, our own religious credentials were more important. One pastor invited a team member out for ice cream after an evening church service and proceeded to question him for some time about his theology. The fact that one of our team members is a seminary graduate was especially helpful among conservative clergy. Equally important, or even more important, was our willingness to help conservative clergy manage the hermeneutical challenge of being strong advocates for marriage while at the same time opposing domestic violence and desiring to help victims. Working collaboratively in this context was very different than in Charlotte, where there was a highly developed community coordinated response and a domestic violence team that had met regularly for years. In Columbia, one-​on-​one meetings were occurring, leading to smaller gatherings of four or five people, where individual workers in either the religious sphere or the criminal justice silo or the shelter staff considered strategies they would be willing to employ to reach out to other workers to advance the awareness of the needs of abused women and children. As a religiously more homogeneous environment than our other locations, shelter staff were sometimes unable to make religious links for women whose faith traditions were not represented by a critical mass of people in the local area (and hence without a religious leader). The Charlotte Example Charlotte is a city of churches: They dot the landscapes, and early on a Sunday morning throughout the city of approximately 1  million people (including Mecklenburg Country), one can see African American families, in particular, walking and driving to church in their finery. We chose Charlotte as one of our sites because we were eager to explore the role and influence of these African American churches in the southern United States that have been critical in highlighting the need to take domestic violence seriously. Here, women connected with the Black churches, together with their sisters

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from other congregations, are at the forefront of raising the issue of domestic violence and working tirelessly to provide resources and support for those families impacted by it. Although it is accurate to talk about the support of the African American churches on the issue of domestic violence, in reality it is often the women within those churches who have taken the charge—​sometimes pulling and pushing their male leaders and other times as ordained women or in non-​ordained volunteer pastoral roles—​ speaking out and ministering in the name of God’s love. Within the African American community, but really within the broader culture here, talking about spiritual topics such as God, the church, and one’s women’s group in the congregation is as natural as talking about the price of milk, bargains at the mall, or who won the latest basketball game or NASCAR race. As such, women of deep religious commitment permeate all sectors of society, including the labor market. They are police officers, parole officers, social workers, legal aid lawyers, shelter workers, and anchorwomen on the news network. They have access to their churches, their workplaces, and the media. They bring their faith to work and bring their work and its associated passions to congregational life. This means that initiatives that are undertaken are widely publicized, and there is scant evidence in this context that it is any stretch at all to include religious leaders. The problem here is that because religious leaders are sought for so many causes and are believed to be an important conduit to the people, they are stretched pretty thin. The role of the female African American pastor is very interesting. She provides the perspective of racial diversity from a context in which the intersecting structures of gender, race, and class further complicate a collaborative response to domestic violence (Crenshaw, 1994; Hill Collins, 2000). With the variety of roles that African American women occupy both within the church and within the broader culture, Black women pastors are well positioned to speak out against violence and to offer emotional and other forms of support for other women who have reason to be reluctant to leave even a violent relationship (Townsend Gilks, 2001; West, 1999). Charlotte is also the birthplace of the evangelist Billy Graham. Among those advocates, survivors, therapists, criminal justice employees, and pastors with whom we had contact in Charlotte was a police officer who was employed with the Billy Graham ministry in Charlotte. Here, again, is a specific example of the interweaving between communities of faith and service providers in this context: He was engaged in (very successful) bridge building to the broader evangelical community. In addition, the coordinator for our RAVE work in Charlotte was a woman named Julie Owens. She and her father, a Presbyterian pastor, are both survivors of domestic violence; her ex-​ husband served out a prison sentence until the time of his death for attempting to murder them both. The story of their victimization (Owens, 2008) illustrates once again that violence can happen to anyone and that it impacts the entire family. As a professional, Julie works as an advocate in the domestic violence field. Her religious background, her identity as a survivor, and her professional connections are all instrumental in Charlotte in establishing and strengthening the work between secular and sacred services to abuse survivors. Box 6.3 presents a discussion between one of the authors (Nancy) and a pastor in North Carolina who was on staff at a missionary Baptist church, worked as a prevention specialist with a local domestic violence shelter, and was the coordinator of a smaller coordinated community response team just outside the city of Charlotte. He

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Box 6.3 Discussion About Domestic Violence with a Pastor from North Carolina Nancy: Tell us a little about how you initially got involved in the work of domestic violence. Pastor: I was the minister of operations and Renee was the shelter director and she said that they needed to have more men come and volunteer with an upcoming trip to the circus. I went to the training and it was on elder abuse. There I met Stephanie and because she knew I was a minister, she asked if I would like to be involved with the coordinated community team. Nancy: I understand that you are the coach of your son’s hockey team. Are there ways that you use your skills as a coach in the work that you do with DV? Pastor: Each kid has something that they bring to the game. They are all looking to be validated. They all want to be valuable members of the team. Nancy: How does this insight help you to be a more effective pastor? Pastor: When we look at DV and my coaching experience, it gives me a chance to affirm kids and enables me to have good relations with the kids and also to role model with them healthy relationships. A lot of people who are victims or abusers need someone to reaffirm them, to make them whole. I am trying to role model healthy behavior. I am doing what I am teaching. Nancy: Does that impact your role as a dad too? Pastor: I have a daughter who is a sophomore at university and a son who is 11. I want him to be the kind of husband that I want my daughter to marry. It is so important to role model healthy behaviors. I was very blessed to grow up in a healthy home, with three brothers and three sisters and a father who modeled in the home loving relations with the way he treated my mother. Nancy: Why do you think there is so much resistance to the issue of DV especially in church communities? Pastor: The pastor who speaks out fears isolation from their peers. Men control the finances in the church so pastors are worried about the tithes and offerings. Some pastors are abusers themselves, maybe verbal or emotional. With the prosperity gospel, the pastor may be controlling others, including their congregations. Nancy: Where would you like to be in the work 5 years from now? Pastor: At a place where there will be a team of pastors who have joined with me to education other pastors on DV, where we are not afraid to talk about DV, to preach about DV. A lot of people don’t get it. was a volunteer coach for his son’s hockey team, bringing him into contact with large numbers of boys, some of whom viewed him as a father figure. P EOPL E AND COLLABORATING

Collaborative community responses transform a disparate group of individuals working in various professional and community-​based silos into agents for social

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change—​still in separate spheres but united and working in concert for a common purpose. In the each of the location sites that we chose—​Charlotte, Columbia, Eugene, and Calgary—​the personalities and the people varied greatly. However, several common themes emerged. There were always two or three people on the coordinated committee response team or the domestic violence advocacy team who were “larger than life.” They provided a bit of comic relief, always had engaging stories to share with others, were rarely self-​absorbed, and helped to make the group coalesce. They soaked up personally some of the discouragement of the younger workers, and they helped to draw out the involvement of the especially shy or especially uninformed newcomer to the team. Because some people were assigned to the group by the nature of their work (police or probation in particular) and some self-​identified as being especially interested (an advocate or a social worker), the level of engagement with the issue and the level of knowledge about the issue varied to a large extent. This was both positive and negative. It was positive because the eager but relatively uninformed newcomer learned from the seasoned veteran (often the director of the shelter) about the dynamics of abuse. Others listened and nodded, and they sometimes had their own preconceptions challenged. This was an excellent training moment, but over time, the regulars became weary of the questions and the naiveté of the group’s newbies—​hence the problem. Because everyone had very busy schedules, they believed that they could not afford to participate in these initiation times and so many “regulars” started coming quite late to meetings, thereby missing the “educational sidebar” as well as the news of upcoming events. Announcements were sometimes rather disorganized as individual people searched for pen and paper or their phones to note upcoming events. More than a few times, we witnessed those connected to faith communities using this time as an opportunity to highlight events that were not explicitly related to domestic violence. Some of the people connected to the team had direct access to a relatively large group of other workers or volunteers so that when they said “yes” to an event, it almost always signified that it would be well attended. This was the case for someone whose role meant that others would be encouraged to participate, such as a chief of police, or someone who brought together a vast group of volunteers, such as an African American senior clergyman or a member of the pastoral team in a megachurch context. I N C OR P OR ATING THE  V ICTIM PE RSPE CT I V E

One of the major challenges to joint activities on a larger community-​based scale was the delicate issue of who spoke on behalf of victims and survivors. This is certainly not a new observation: It has been widely acknowledged in the shelter movement that the voices of the caregivers often drown out the voices of the victims/​survivors (Timmins, 1995). However, in the context of a coordinated community response to domestic violence, there was sometimes an awkward exchange when a worker with personal currency of having experienced domestic violence herself trumped another worker with ample experience working in the domestic violence sector but without the personal experience of having been violated. To be sure, workers bring multiple identities to their occupational roles—​including, sometimes, religious ones. However, in domestic violence work, the story of the victims remains central, and sometimes it can

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become a “contested” part of whose voice is most authoritative. Although it would be misleading to exaggerate this point, the currency of personal experience of intimate partner violence weighs heavy in the domestic violence sector. Also, between various workers with personal experience, there can be a delicate and personally painful exchange of whose experience—​or voice—​carries most weight. This is very important to understand as it relates to building a coalition and networking among various agencies and care providers. Most male religious leaders lack an understanding of the importance of voice in this regard and are ill-​equipped to know how to respond in these contexts, especially in terms of framing their own personal and professional experiences. Many women are very skilled at understanding how to work effectively in a discourse such as this, and as a result, pastoral leaders are often left to believe that they had little to offer to the discussion. This is especially difficult for those clergy accustomed to being the one person in the congregational setting whose voice is almost always heard and whose opinions carry the most weight. In some settings, we observed a power play between various agencies and workers concerning who really understood the stories of abused women or what women really needed in the aftermath of violence in an intimate relationship. Not infrequently, in this context, a worker would interweave her own experience of violation. We noticed that when this occurred, often the worker with the most dramatic story was given deference by the others. Sometimes, of course, the person with the most prestigious work role was given deference (e.g., a judge or an agency director), and sometimes others deferred to the person with the most experience on the issue being discussed (e.g., a victim advocate or a veteran police officer). Teams that worked really well seemed to be able to seamlessly go back and forth between people and their personal as well as professional levels of experience, work roles, length of time working in the domestic violence sector, as well as various personal and educational credentials. It is important to highlight another rather delicate matter related to personal life experiences and team activities. In almost every context in which we worked, one or more of the team players had current life experiences that brought chaos and disruption to their lives and, in so doing, impacted their work environment in multiple ways. Often, these challenges were related to past experiences of abuse and the longer term impact of the violence on their children. This was a stark and ongoing reminder to those on the team who had not personally experienced abuse of its devastating and life-​altering consequences. These team members could see how an adolescent was impacted by their single parent mother’s past experiences and how she in turn was impacted by the adolescent’s often marked emotional and psychological needs. Sometimes these teenagers were in trouble with the law; sometimes ongoing connection with the (once) abusive noncustodial parent meant disruption was a regular event in family living. For pastors, in particular, this offered an antidote to happy family living and evidence that the pain and impact of domestic violence lived on in the children well after safety and security had been established for them and their mothers. Navigating the choppy waters of multiple expertise(s) from training, personal experience, and work experience in a team setting is very challenging. Added to this are the very important structural differences between women; for example, minority women may have different experiences of intimate partner violence and what follows thereafter as they interact with various agencies in the community. The ability for team members to defer appropriately to each other is a central component in ensuring

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the team succeeds in meeting its stated objectives and goals. However, the process of doing so must be nurtured, and how it is nurtured differs depending on the people, the place, the programs, and the priorities. Amazing things can happen when people respect and honor each other. Understanding that some folk have a very difficult “row to hoe” goes a long way to cutting them some slack and deferring to their judgments when they speak. T H E PR IOR IT IES IN COLLABORATING

One of the first priorities that needs to be established—​and practiced—​in a collaborative community response is the issue of trust. From the earliest days of the battered women’s movement, there has been marked skepticism concerning the involvement of any partners motivated by religious zeal (Brown & Bohn, 1989; Fiorenza & Copeland, 1994). The position held by many advocates and other leading feminists is that religious beliefs and practices are part of the contributing factors that lead to the problem of abuse and not contributors to its solution (Dobash & Dobash, 1979). However, there are also trust issues from a spiritual standpoint that impact upon religious leaders and religious followers who wish to be part of a coordinated team effort (Nason-​ Clark, Holtmann, Fisher-​ Townsend, McMullin, & Ruff, 2009). Although it may be difficult to comprehend why this is the case, most religious leaders are not prepared to work together—​cooperatively and collaboratively—​with just anyone at all. They are interested in far more than just the factual information that has been gathered in their neighborhood or throughout the world. They are sometimes skeptical about how “data” and “information” are going to be used, particularly for purposes that they might find offensive. Thus, for collaboration to work, religious leaders need to believe that others respect their spiritual beliefs and traditions. This means that respect must be shown when they are present (in the room or on the committee) but also when others are talking about the faith tradition or spiritual beliefs that they hold dear. They are often wary of academic and activist partners who appear to want to correct them rather than provide appropriate training and resources to their candid admission of a lack of preparedness to respond to situations involving domestic violence. For trust to develop, religious leaders also need to be consulted on areas in which they have expertise. Any community partners who adopt only the role of critic deflate collaborative possibilities. “Christian credentialing” remains an issue for some clergy members who cautiously want to ensure that it is safe, in a spiritual sense, to refer people to faith-​based agencies or therapists (Wood & McHugh, 1994). As one therapist noted, “There is a guardedness from pastors, sometimes it raises red flags.” It is evident that referrals to therapeutic counseling are greatly facilitated should the counselor either share a faith perspective with the referring clergy member or have one that is complementary. When that is not present, there can be opposition from churches and/​or clergy members to the work of the counselor or agency. To be sure, trust is built over time. It cannot be fast-​forwarded. As personal credibility is established one person at a time, resistance is lowered and common goals begin to shape the group. As trust is built and reinforced, stereotypes will be challenged. For example, religious women are no more likely than their secular sisters to have been abused, although many people—​even some working in the domestic

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violence sector—​do not believe this to be true. The stereotypes that certain religious groups promote abuse and certain religious women are more likely to be abused are unfounded based on the evidence that has been collected to date (Cunardi, Caetano, & Schafer, 2002; Ellison, Bartkowski, & Anderson, 1999; Gengler & Lee, 2001; Levitt & Ware, 2006). Conservative Protestant pastors, in particular, are very sensitive to community-​driven exaggerated claims of higher rates of battery among highly religious couples, just as secular feminist domestic violence advocates are very sensitive to religiously driven exaggerated claims that shelter staff break up marriages. Another stereotype that is often raised revolves around the notion that conservative interpretations of the Christian scriptures, including particularly notions of headship and submission, are responsible for the violence meted out against abused women in those traditions. From our conversations with several pastors who hold such an interpretation of scripture, we derived two conclusions. First, such an interpretation of scripture does not therefore lead those pastors to excuse or minimize the seriousness of domestic violence. In conversation after conversation, conservative Protestant pastors consistently condemned domestic violence and expressed their desire that women be safe in their homes. Second, these pastors appreciated hermeneutical help to reconcile their opposition to domestic violence with their interpretation of scripture. In our research among students at North American theological seminaries, without any prompting, students in several focus groups at the conservative Protestant seminaries made reference to Ephesians Chapter 5 as a foundational passage of scripture with regard to Christian marriage (McMullin & Nason-​Clark, 2011). Because abusive men may cite references to “submission” and “male headship” in that particular biblical chapter to justify their demands that their wives submit to their violent outbursts, it is important for pastors of conservative Protestant congregations to have the hermeneutical tools to take seriously the biblical text in passages such as Ephesians 5 while at the same time contribute to the safety of women in their congregations. It is helpful that they first view the references to submission in a wider context—​in the immediate biblical context to understand that submission is not a quality commended only for wives but that it is enjoined for all Christians including husbands (Ephesians 5:21) and also in the wider context of Jesus’ teaching that calls for justice for the vulnerable and oppressed. Catherine Kroeger’s work has also been especially helpful in this regard because she combines a conservative view of scripture with an understanding of headship that has nothing to do with control or power but instead emphasizes the responsibility of nurture (Kroeger, 2011a); her writings have also emphasized the biblical imperative to speak prophetically in the face of violence (Kroeger, 2011b). Perhaps equally difficult is the stereotype that because mainline clergy may affirm community efforts to combat domestic violence, they are an available resource for victims in their congregations. Understanding that abuse is an important community issue is not the same thing as being prepared to respond to those impacted by it—​ whether from one’s own congregation or the geographical area that it serves. Before mainline congregants who are being battered at home will seek help from their pastors, mainline clergy need help to understand that although the problem may be more hidden in their congregations, there are women in their congregations who also live in violent households. A second very effective priority in collaborating is building group consensus by undertaking shared projects. When the coordinated team is able to identify, plan, execute, evaluate, and repeat over time these shared projects, people around the

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table are able to feel a sense of shared ownership for success. As people and partners change, new projects or the revision of established ones will naturally occur. In Charlotte, an example is marching downtown at lunchtime to commemorate the life of a woman who has been murdered and to highlight the seriousness of domestic violence. In Columbia, the TREE project was an outgrowth of various members of the community identifying a need to work with young women to raise awareness about abuse and to respond to their experiences of it. Churches in Calgary raise awareness by events in and outside their regular programming, including partnership and participation from various groups in the domestic violence sector. Workers in Eugene regularly attend events that are sponsored by one agency but involve input from many. Hosting events in several different locations—​sometimes at one agency or another, sometimes in rented space, sometimes in public space such as the library or town square, or sometimes at a religious house of worship—​ensures that no one group has “ownership” and also ensures that workers see each other’s work environments. This appears to be especially important for those who might never have entered a religious house of worship before. At all four locations where we were engaged in fieldwork, we heard stories about workers being amazed at the space and resources of local churches: Prior to supporting a domestic violence event hosted at a specific church, these workers had never been to the facility. Just going there opened their eyes to the possibilities and to the influence of these congregations. For example, I (Nancy) attended a meeting hosted at a church in Columbia where local shelter staff and academic researchers had never been before. They were astonished by the expansive parking lot, the level of technology in the meeting room, and the café in the church’s foyer. It became clear that partnering with such a large congregation opened up many possibilities. As another example, in Calgary, a historic church hosted a Domestic Violence Awareness Sunday at which I (Nancy) was asked to speak. Several of the team members, representing various agencies in town, told me that this was the first time they had attended Sunday service since their childhood. In Eugene, one of the large churches agreed to use its gym facility for monitored family visitation; volunteers were trained, equipment was purchased, and protocols established. Another important priority for collaboration is building connections between individual workers before attempting to build bridges between agencies. Of course, sometimes these two priorities can, and do, occur simultaneously. However, the important point to note is that workers need to do more than simply meet each other—​they need to establish connections. One male therapist, trained at the doctoral level, mentioned that staff in community-​based agencies find it very difficult to work with religious people. He stated, “[Laugh] Particularly the rural evangelical Protestants who are closed and resistant to people speaking in their lives. It’s a control issue. Some [people] are dangerous with the Word, using the Bible to justify things that the Word never says.” Later in the interview, referring to working with others in the community, he noted, “Some people of faith come here and some of the people who are here are not of faith. It’s an interesting place. . . . I have learned it makes a difference in how we present ourselves like at the DV Council.” For professionally credentialed workers who are employed in a faith-​based context, there is a delicate negotiation between raising the issue of faith (and having one’s organization be regarded as a place that services only those who are people of faith) or

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not raising the issue of faith (and others forgetting about the faith-​based feature that can be part of the intervention provided). As the workers in the faith-​based agency talk about the difference that any agency such as theirs can make, they refer to the possibility of change. In the words of an executive director, a social worker, “Our worldview [incorporates notions that] people can change, families are important, women are fully functioning adults just like men and you have to fully respect what the woman wants to do with her life.” The context for a comment such as this is the belief held among some in the domestic violence sector that change never happens; that men who have been violent cannot, and will not, change; and that the most appropriate option is for a woman to leave an intimate relationship that has been or continues to be violent. However, many women do not want to leave their intimate relationships, temporarily or forever, and as noted previously, religious women are even more reluctant than non-​religious women to terminate the martial relationship. A domestic violence advocate working in a secular Calgary setting offers a similar perspective: I have many Muslim clients who do not want to raise the issue of faith in groups because they are afraid people will look at them differently, but they come to see me individually to talk about it. Sometimes they do not realize I  am Muslim. . . . I have people from other faiths too. Sometimes Christian people are more comfortable talking to me about their faith . . . so I know quite a lot about Christianity. At her agency, the spiritually enriched workers (people of deep religious commitment who are on staff and are willing to talk about matters of spirituality in the work setting) share ideas with each other and sometimes refer clients to each other depending on the needs expressed and the wishes of the clients. In Calgary, the connections between people were critical, as demonstrated by the previously discussed interview clip with two of the individuals involved in leadership at HomeFront. The early community coordinating team on domestic violence had several people who were intimately involved in the religious community, either as clergy, like Bob Pynn, or as faith-​enriched service providers, like Andrea Silverstone from Jewish Family Services. In each case, Bob and Andrea brought others of like-​ minded faith and passion to the table, including one of the local rabbis, a Buddhist monk, the director of a conservative Protestant faith-​based women’s shelter, and other local Protestant ministers. Included also were some other people of deep religious commitment who worked in the domestic violence sector under the banner of criminal justice (judges, police, and court services) as well as city counselors. In the words of a judge from Calgary, “It is sad that people don’t recognize the role of faith in social movements.” Even in the courtroom setting, this judge states, “Whatever God means to you, do not neglect the spiritual dimension of your life. The power to accept help appears to come from the spiritual inside you.” Although faith is recognized around the collaborative table, it is still a delicate issue, not a wide open door. And what helps? According to those who are involved, it boils down to individuals—​and individuals meet each other through networking. Referring to Calgary, one person, a criminal justice worker, remarked, “This is the most networking place I have ever seen. There is a mentality of a can-​do place.”

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However, even here, with oil money to help finance projects and what appears to be a large constituency of workers in the domestic violence sector collaborating and cooperating, it was a challenge to incorporate religious leaders, especially those from the more conservative traditions. According to a judge in the local area, “They don’t trust the secular community and they have their own referral system,” referring to the notion that an evangelical megachurch in town employed its own counselors. Yet others, referring to this same megachurch, commented that this was a worship center that “really gets this piece around DV.” Many of these churches, as in Columbia, needed to be challenged to look outside their own walls by someone within their own flock—​ someone determined to build a bridge to the outside world as a result of his or her passion for domestic violence. However, passion and connections are not enough. In conducting earlier research in the state of Washington, we observed an agency that had a large number of volunteers and ample zeal for the work, but their work was hampered by the inefficiencies of the agency’s office and the constantly changing directives of the leadership. What was clear especially in Calgary and Eugene was that the leaders of the key organizations involved in the domestic violence sector were highly organized, skilled, multitalented, and very professional individuals. In Charlotte, the leadership team was broader, as was the volunteer base. Coordination in this environment meant working with a very large number of people committed to the cause of reducing domestic violence but who were often involved with many other important issues as well. This offered the distinct advantage of permeating a vast array of sectors in the community—​on issues of domestic violence as well as other social justice initiatives. Whereas the story of Charlotte is of a major city infused with religious zeal, the story of Calgary is of a large metropolitan area in which people of faith and similar passion found each other and began to work cooperatively for change and increased effectiveness and efficiency. The coordinating efforts in Columbia were at an earlier stage of development and involved a smaller, younger, and less experienced cohort, whereas in Eugene, the most secular of the cities we chose, the leaders of the shelter and the faith-​based agency kept a long-​standing interest in a coordinated effort alive. As we have shown, our four location sites offered an amazing opportunity to observe on the ground how collaboration can be fostered and developed. W O R K ING W ITHIN SPE CIFIC IM MIGRANT C O M MU NITIES—​T WO E XAMPLE S

In her study of social support networks among immigrant women in the Maritime Provinces of Canada, Holtmann explored support for Christian and Muslim immigrant women dealing with situations of domestic violence. In interviews with public service providers in the sectors of domestic violence and immigrant settlement agencies, research participants were eager to talk about the vulnerabilities they saw among Muslim immigrant women. They spoke about Muslim women they knew who were isolated at home with infants and young children. They emphasized how financially and emotionally dependent these women were on their husbands. They were also largely unaware of the support networks for women within the local mosques.

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This is an interesting finding because the study found that some groups of Christian immigrant women experienced similar vulnerabilities. Language barriers and the general social distrust of new immigrants also left Christian women feeling lonely and isolated. Christian immigrant women with full-​time employment had few opportunities to access publicly funded language classes. Many Christian immigrant women were living in transnational family situations in which their husbands continued to work in their country of origin while the women shouldered all the responsibilities of parenting children in a foreign society. Religious Orthodox immigrant women in the region rely on informal social networks because there are few Orthodox churches. In this study, it was evident that service providers were influenced by the reigning public discourse that all Muslim women are inherently vulnerable to controlling and violent Muslim men. This stereotype prevented them from seeing and understanding the particular vulnerabilities of Christian immigrant women in situations of domestic violence. We turn from this example to one of support provided by Catholic nuns to trafficked women. A Catholic Shelter for Trafficked Women Catholic nuns have a long history of involvement in collaborative community responses to social issues. Many of their foundresses were responding to needs for education and health care among the marginalized people in a particular context. Despite the decline in the numbers in their religious orders (Ebaugh, 1993), Catholic nuns continue to read the signs of the times and work together with secular service providers to respond to the needs of their communities (Holtmann, 2011; Wittberg, 1994). In her study of Canadian Catholic responses to domestic violence, Holtmann interviewed one such nun who had established a shelter for trafficked women in her city. Having worked for years with aboriginal youth, Sister Lesley was familiar with the local network of public services. Given a rapidly growing immigrant population in her city, she realized that the women’s shelter did not take in women who were abused and exploited by relatives or strangers. Sister Lesley convinced the leaders of her religious order to work together with local investors to purchase a residential facility so that trafficked women could find safety and social support in an atmosphere that valued their religious identities as well. Sister Lesley knew that collaborating with people in different community support and advocacy networks would be integral to the success of the new shelter. Women who come to the shelter are referred by immigrant and refugee settlement agencies and by criminal justice workers, as well as the staff at domestic violence shelters. According to Canadian federal law on trafficking, the women are eligible for publicly funded physical and mental health services for up to 6 months while their cases are being adjudicated. Women who have obtained immigrant status are eligible for social assistance. While at the shelter, they are encouraged to take advantage of all the education and training opportunities available in the city. At the time of the interview, the House of Peace had served 41 women from 15 different countries with 10 different faith backgrounds in the first 5  years. Since then, Sister Lesley has led a successful fundraising campaign to expand the shelter’s residential capacity in order to better meet the needs of victims of human trafficking.

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W O R K ING TOGE THE R: SOME RE FLE CTIO N S F R O M  T H E L IT ER ATUR E

As the field of domestic violence has grown and its theoretical underpinnings have expanded, the discussion of intersecting identities, or intersectionality, has provided a corrective nuance for the mistaken assumption that all abused women require the same services and supports (Anthias, 2014). For certain, views about intersecting identities can influence who are defined as “real” or “appropriate” victims, which implicitly negates or makes invisible the victimization of others (Brah & Phoenix, 2004). Victimization can also be denied when social stereotypes are employed to neutralize or obscure the presence of violence, depriving battered women of care, justice, and services (Volpp, 2005; Tam et al., 2016). Sometimes what is considered an “appropriate victim” is codified in social policy, legislation, statutes, as well as policies and procedures of various agencies (Danis & Lockhart, 2010; Josephson, 2002), rendering the experiences of some women who are battered as less important than those of others. In addition, multiple barriers to appropriate services exist where culturally competent programs are not in place for non-​English-​speaking or undocumented women who are battered or for women with a disability (Adams & Campbell, 2012; Thiara, Hague, & Mullender, 2011; Vidales, 2010). Victimization and best practices are also denied when domestic violence is defined as culturally normal for groups different from the dominant culture (Warrier, 2008), an experience that is far too common for Muslim women (Alkhateeb & Abugideiri, 2007). At the level of community-​based agencies, insufficient recognition has been given to the combination of barriers that serve to keep immigrant women from reporting their abuse (Tam et al., 2016). C O N CL US ION

From the Victim’s Perspective We began the chapter with the story of Judith, Pete, and a number of other dedicated men and women who were involved in a coordinated community response to domestic violence. Working in concert with one another means that the victim does not have to repeatedly tell her painful story to one worker after another at each agency or place she seeks help. When the victim chooses to tell her story, it can be very therapeutic, aiding her along in making sense of what has happened and the choices she needs to make to ensure her continued safety and emotional well-​being. When the victim has to repeat what is so painful to talk about to an endless stream of police, advocates, and other helpers, she can feel discouraged, defeated, rejected, shamed, and afraid—​in a word, re-​victimized. If she is a woman of faith, it is very possible that she has important religious questions, often feeling abandoned by God and the religious community of which she is a part. If she were to seek help first from a shelter worker, such as Judith, her religious identity would be considered to be an important part of who she is and an integral piece in helping her to amass the strength to carry on, seeking safety first and then formulating longer term plans for herself and her children. If she were to seek help first from a pastor, such as Pete, the abuse she was suffering would be taken very seriously,

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she would be encouraged to seek safety for herself and her children, and she would receive information about the resources available both in the local community and within her congregation. Both Judith and Pete would be willing to refer to each other the battered religious woman who had sought their help. If she did not want to go to the shelter or seek secular services, Rev. Peter Browning would listen to her story, affirm God’s love and care for her, and explain how important it was for both her own safety and that of her children that she consider carefully the various options for help, including a detailed safety plan. If she went to the shelter first and did not want contact with her religious leader, her decision would be respected and a worker, such as Judith, would encourage her to raise any religious questions or concerns she might have with her, even though she might be able to offer few answers. When it is safe to state that one is religious in a community-​based agency and one’s identity as a believer/​practitioner is taken seriously, it goes a long way to help a person believe that she has been understood and affirmed. When it is safe to disclose to someone in one’s religious community that one has been battered in an intimate relationship, it goes a long way to help a person believe that her life matters and that she has not been abandoned. Like the panes of glass in our stained-​glass story of abuse highlighted in Chapter 2, a religious woman can see that hope can replace despair; courage can overcome obstacles; and there can indeed be a process of rebuilding, renewal, and new beginnings. Working together in the community in a coordinated, collaborative way enhances the possibility that every battered woman will receive the help she needs so that tomorrow is indeed a new day. From the Pastor’s Perspective Our research at the various field sites has provided important insights for religious leaders who seek to be part of the response to domestic violence. The research shows that pastors can potentially make a very positive difference, and that happens best when it is in collaboration with other resources in the community. For conservative Protestant pastors who are quite willing to label violence as sinful and wrong behavior but reticent about working with those outside their own faith tradition, there needs to be a recognition that for the safety of victims and their families, there must be a willingness to access and recommend the resources of the wider community and the safety provided by a women’s shelter. For clergy in mainline churches who often affirm and participate in community efforts to combat violence but deny that it exists in their own congregations, there needs to be public acknowledgment that research consistently shows that domestic violence knows no religious boundaries and that their mainline congregations also include victims of abuse who need help and safety. Rather than hiding violence or referring to it only as a problem outside of their church tradition, pastors of mainline churches need to give victims within their congregations the permission to seek help from others without a sense that they are destroying the church’s image as a place where “those things” do not happen. The interest expressed by the shelter staff in better understanding how to respond to the needs of religious victims also reinforces the important role that clergy can play as communities seek to combat domestic violence. Because many shelter workers are unaware of the resources (volunteers, facilities, spiritual care, and awareness opportunities) that congregations can bring to the table, and because shelter workers may

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not attend a local religious congregation, in many cases the pastor or some interested members of the congregation will need to take the first steps in building partnerships between religious groups and community responders. Pastors will also need to be willing to listen and to learn from those who have worked on the front lines in the response to domestic violence. From the Advocate’s Perspective As an administrator of a busy shelter, Judith Starkey not only has a personal connection to domestic violence through her family of origin but also represents an important stakeholder in the collaborative community response to the widespread social problem of violence against women. The abuse of wives by their husbands was not recognized as a social problem until the 1970s. It was through the consciousness-​raising efforts of the feminist movement that the problem began to be named in public discourse. Feminists responded to the problem through the creation of shelters in order to provide safety from spousal violence to women and their children. It was members of the second wave of the feminist movement who worked tirelessly to bring the issue forward to politicians and governments and demand a social response. Feminists took ownership of defining the problem as rooted in the social structures and institutions that give men power and control over women’s lives, and they led the way to change laws and policies so that women could exercise greater control over their bodies in the private and public spheres. It was feminists who coined the phrase “the personal is the political.” Nevertheless, much as changed since the early years of the shelter movement. Few contemporary shelters are autonomous organizations sustained solely by feminist solidarity and charitable donations. With the advent of government funding for women’s shelters and domestic violence outreach services has come the complications of government bureaucracy. Funding is tied to outcomes and performance indicators. This raises questions about the effectiveness of anti-​violence work, which is exceedingly difficult to quantify in the short term. Women who seek the safety of a shelter or participate in group and individual programming offered by outreach workers have become clients. Some women have also become increasingly demanding of shelter workers and advocates to the services for which they believe they are entitled. Feminist ethics of confidentiality have been usurped by privacy laws that restrict the sharing of information between government-​funded services. Community collaborative responses can be hampered by such laws. In the case of nongovernmental organizations and agencies, service providers working without a trauma-​informed practice can neglect to get women to sign referral agreements. This can lead to re-​victimization when women have to continually repeat the painful details of their experiences of domestic violence to people in multiple organizations. Feminists have become increasingly aware of the complications that the intersections of race, ethnicity, class, ability, and religion bring to their work on behalf of victims of domestic violence. Charges of racism and cultural insensitivity have led to specialization and some competition in the shelter and advocacy sphere. Changes to policies in government and the criminal justice system throughout the years have had unintended consequences. Pro-​charge policies have led to dual arrests, which are disheartening in cases in which women use violence in self-​defense

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or retaliate violently after suffering through continual cycles of violence over years. Immigration policies have increased many immigrant women’s dependence on their husbands or forced them to remain with abusive partners due to fears of deportation. Failure to protect legislation has silenced immigrant and non-​immigrant mothers from disclosing abuse due to fears of losing their children to child welfare services. Professionally trained shelter workers sometimes feel pressured to enforce government regulations that come into conflict with their mandate to provide protection for abused women and their children. The increasingly complex social milieu within which Judith’s shelter operates and the daily negotiations that underfunded administrators such as Judith have to engage in with other domestic violence service providers have led to accusations that the shelter movement has lost touch with its feminist roots. It is no wonder that sometimes she loses patience with those who are relatively new to the work involved in a collaborative community response, especially zealous religious leaders and others who have no idea of how tenuous the social gains for the feminist movement remain. From the Criminal Justice Perspective According to Anne Ganley (n.d.), Domestic violence is not a problem of a few “diseased or dysfunctional” individuals, but rather is a problem rooted and nurtured in social relationships and structures. Because it is so embedded, stopping domestic violence requires a coordinated community response where health, justice, and social service systems join with educational, religious, and victim services to confront violence. No one institution can do it alone. Domestic violence advocates, community workers, and agents of the criminal justice system are increasingly calling for a coordinated, integrated, holistic approach to ending violence against women (Shepard, Falk, & Elliott, 2002). The assumption behind a coordinated community approach is that it will produce more effective results compared to isolated and unsystematic interventions (Murphy, Musser, & Maton, 1998). In their National Institute of Justice report, Saunders and Hamill (2003) suggest that offender programs may indeed be more effective when combined with community-​ based efforts. The coordinated response accelerates resolution of cases, with 70% of all cases heard in the Calgary Domestic Violence Court (Courtroom 412) being resolved within 1 month from first appearance date (Van de Veen, 2004). Uekert (2003) details two elements necessary for a coordinated community response: Key stakeholders must actively participate, and the stakeholders must reach consensus on the most appropriate response to domestic violence in their communities. A study conducted by Van Hightower and Gorton (2002) highlights the need for a coordinated response. They examined intimate partner violence against women in a rural Texas county from the perspectives of battered women, criminal justice officials, and community service providers. They found that all parties experienced a disjuncture in communication. Survivors expressed concerns about inadequate protection, discourteous treatment, and insufficient information about their legal options. In contrast, criminal justice providers were reluctant to make arrests, tended

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to impose lenient sanctions on abusers, questioned victim credibility, and expressed victim-​blaming attitudes. These findings highlight the need for an integrated response between the criminal justice system, community service providers, and battered women in which communication and information are accessible to all. N O TE

1. Statistics Canada (2004) reports that aboriginal women are three times as likely as non-​aboriginal women to be victims of wife abuse.

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APPENDIX 1 Research Projects and Methodology

The research on which this book is based draws its data from three primary sources, supplemented by six additional research projects. All projects that involved data collection received individual research ethics board approval at the University of New Brunswick. P R OJECT TITLE : E X PLORING ISSUE S OF  J U S T I C E , A CCOUNTA BILITY, AND CHANGE AMO N G R E L I GI OU S ME N W HO B AT TER THE IR WIV E S

Funded by grants from the Louisville Institute for the Study of Protestantism and American Religion and several smaller research awards, this project sought to understand how men who were mandated (or volunteered) to attend a state-​certified faith-​based batterer intervention group in the state of Oregon talked about their involvement in the group, the factors that led to their participation, and ways in which their involvement in the program impacted their lives. Participants were recruited through the group meetings, at which the facilitators read our research invitation letter. Men who were interested in being part of the research gave their contact information to the administrative assistant at the agency. More men volunteered than we were able to accommodate in the focus groups or interviews. A total of 55 men were interviewed individually (for approximately 1 hour) at least once at the agency premises located in Oregon. Follow-​up interviews with these 55 men were held twice a year for 4  years and lasted between 45 and 90 minutes. Participation in the follow-​up interviews varied (there was attrition due to death, reincarceration, relocation, and other factors). We spent between 10 and 14 days interviewing in Oregon each time data were collected. In addition, five focus groups (of between 5 and 20 men) were held; each focus group lasted between 60 and 90 minutes. Food was provided at all focus groups and interviews; men were given $25.00 for participating in the data collection each time they were interviewed. During each site visit, we observed several batterer intervention groups; attended staff meetings; and spoke regularly with staff, group facilitators, and the executive director. We were granted access to the case files of men who agreed to participate in our research (interviews or focus groups). For the first interview with each of the men, we explained the research project (as per our protocols) and asked each participant to read carefully (or we volunteered to read to

184Appendix 1

them—​not wishing to highlight any of the men who might be unable to read) the various consent forms for participation in our research. After these were signed, we read the following preamble and questions; interviews lasted between 45 and 90 minutes: Thank you so much for agreeing to participate in our research project entitled:  Men’s Stories of Hope and Change. We are interested in learning more about whether faith makes any difference in the lives of men and women after the experience of abuse. As you may know, the program here at [STOP] is very unique and we want to understand it more from your perspective and experience. Your story is important to us and we are hoping, with your help, to be able to offer insight to other families facing similar circumstances in other places around the US and beyond. 1. Please explain how you heard about [STOP] and began attending one of the programs. 2. From your experience, what does [STOP] have to offer to men who have acted abusively? 3. From your experience, how has [STOP] impacted on your life? On the lives of those you care about? 4. From your perspective, how has religious faith/​spirituality impacted your life? Ever helped you transform? Ever given you false hope? 5. What advice would you give to a man who has acted abusively in the past but has never sought group intervention? 6. Is there anything else that would assist us in understanding the role of [STOP], or your faith community, in your life over the last few years? At the close of the interview, we asked the men what they hoped to be able to tell us when we returned in 6 months’ time. Then we asked if they had any questions for us. Follow-​up interviews began by asking the men to update us on their lives since our last interview. Focus Groups/​Interviews with Criminal Justice Staff Focus groups, or individual interviews, with criminal justice workers included the following questions, which we asked after the research consent forms had been signed: Focus Group/​Personal Interview Schedule Probation/​Parole Officers Personal Experience with Faith-​Based Treatment Providers 1. Please explain how you initially became aware of the various faith-​based treatment providers in the area. 2. How many of the staff or board members of these groups have you met? 3. Have you ever made a referral to a faith-​based treatment provider? What prompted you to do so? How often do you make a referral to a faith-​based treatment provider?

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4. Are there certain men or families that you would be more likely to refer to a faith-​based agency rather than another agency? Knowledge of Faith-​Based Treatment Providers and Services 1. In what ways would you consider [STOP] to be faith-​based? 2. How does [STOP] differ in your mind from an agency that does not claim to be faith-​based? 3. From your perspective, how does [STOP] intervene in the lives of men who batter? 4. From your perspective, what is the unique contribution of [STOP] to changing the abusive behavior of men? Relationship Between Faith-​Based Treatment Providers and the Criminal Justice System 1. From your perspective, what is/​are the major challenge(s) that a faith-​ based agency [like STOP] faces in responding to the needs of men who batter in the family context? 2. From your perspective, are there any tension points in the relationship between a faith-​based agency [like STOP] for families in crisis and your organization? 3. In what ways can a faith-​based agency for families in crisis [like STOP] assist your organization? 4. How could the relationship between you, your organization, and [STOP] be strengthened? Relationship Between Clients of Faith-​Based Treatment Providers and the Criminal Justice System 1. When you make a referral suggestion to a man in your caseload, do you offer services to his family? 2. What type of follow-​up contact do you normally have with men who have entered a batterer intervention program? What have you learned through such contact? 3. Do you believe this type of intervention program is successful in changing the thinking and behavior of abusive men? Does faith make a difference in changing their attitudes or behavior? Does faith produce some obstacles to change? 4. Do you have any suggestions that might improve the program at [STOP] and the ultimate goal of ending violence in the family context? 5. Do you have any contact with other organizations (such as congregations or religious groups) that work with faith-​based treatment providers and their clients? How might the various agencies that work with faith-​based treatment providers enhance their relationship with each other? Other 1. Do you have any other additional comments or suggestions that would enable us to understand the work of faith-​based treatment providers and your relationship with their mission and services? Note that a slightly amended version of this interview schedule was used for interviewing judges and other criminal justice employees, as well as staff at the shelter and other domestic violence advocates. In addition, we also conducted two focus groups of clergy in the local area using a slightly different version of this interview schedule.

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P R OJECT TIT L E : CE LE BRATING THE  GRA D U AT E S : A N EXP L OR ATION INTO THE NATURE AN D E X T E N T O F  CHA NGE IN THE LIV E S OF M E N WHO H AV E G R ADUATED F ROM  A BATTE RE RS PROGR A M

Funded by grants from several organizations, this research examined the closed case files of more than 1,000 men who had attended groups in a faith-​based batterer intervention program in Seattle, Washington. The files covered more than a 10-​year period from 1989 to 2001. The first group of files (n  =  1,059) included all men who had been part of this state-​certified program from the early days of its existence until 2002; a second group of files (n  =  75) comprising those that were closed between 2002 and 2005, was analyzed later. The contents of the closed files included the client face sheet, the intake form, the letter of responsibility, the letter of empathy, the graduation checklist, and any police or medical reports provided by third parties involved in the case (e.g., probation reports). All identifying information, such as the full names of all clients, victim’s names, as well as addresses and telephone numbers, was blackened out before files were made available for research use. A total of 283 variables were available for analysis (using SPSS), but the level of missing data severely restricted the quantitative analysis. A smaller portion of this research involved interviews with the executive director of the agency, members of the board of directors, staff, and group facilitators; also included were a small number of interviews with members of the criminal justice community in the Seattle region. A total of 17 interviews were conducted. P R OJECT TIT L E : A COORDINATE D COMMU N I T Y R ESP ONS E T O  DOM E STIC V IOLE NCE

Funded by the Lilly Endowment, after seed grants from several agencies and foundations, one part of this project that is related to batterer intervention programs involved interviews and informal contact with probation and parole officers, police, judges, therapists, group facilitators, and shelter staff in several cities in the United States (Eugene, Oregon; Columbia, Missouri; and Charlotte, North Carolina) and in the western Canadian city of Calgary, Alberta. Observations occurred in several courtrooms as well. In Oregon, where we collected interview and focus group data from men who had acted abusively and were now part of groups in one specific faith-​based agency (see the previous discussion of the first project), we had regular contact (for several years) with shelter staff, criminal justice workers, clergy, and therapists. Although we had informal conversations and interactions with more than 150 workers in the domestic violence community, we conducted focus groups or formal interviews with 41 of them. S U PPL EMENTA RY PROJE CTS

The following projects were completed simultaneously with the previously mentioned research projects or before those were performed: Seminary Project: Data have been collected at four theological seminaries (three in the United States and one in Canada) from 412 students to identify

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their training experiences and learning needs as they relate to domestic violence. There is a noted gap between their classroom experiences and ministry demands on issues of abuse. Transition House Workers and Clergy: This was a pilot project that examined tensions, contradictions, and collaboration between clergy and transition house workers in selected regions of eastern Canada, with a goal of identifying areas of cooperation and coordination. Twelve different geographic sites were chosen. Pastors and Domestic Violence: This was a quantitative study involving a sample of 343 clergy (70% response rate) in Atlantic Canada. The data collection (7-​page questionnaire) covered clergy experience with woman and child abuse, work with those who act abusively, knowledge of family violence issues, and referral practices related to violence and abuse. Additional data collection occurred in later years among pastors in other selected ministry contexts (n = 225). Pastoral Counseling in Cases of Domestic Violence: Building on the previous study, personal interviews were conducted with a sample of 100 ministers in various locations in eastern Canada. This project focused specifically on the advice and support clergy offer to families in crises. A further stage of this project involved 25 interviews with clergy in other Christian denominations outside the original sample. Women Helping Women After Abuse: This project explored the unique and specific needs of churchwomen who suffer abuse and the responses of women within the Christian church to those needs. It involved focus group interviews in 30 congregations, representing rural, urban, and small-​town contexts. A total of 247 women participated in these focus groups. Church Youth Groups: This was a small project that involved 10 church youth groups and their youth leaders. Data were collected on the help-​seeking behavior of young men and women of faith and their leaders’ responses to those calls for help.

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APPENDIX 2 Publications of Our Team Related to Religion and Abuse

AUTHORED BOOKS/​MONOGRAPHS

Kroeger, C. Clark, & Nason-​Clark, N. (2001). No place for abuse:  Biblical and practical resources to counteract domestic violence. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press. (201 pp. + xv) [Translations in Arabic and Portuguese] Kroeger, C. Clark, & Nason-​Clark, N. (2010). No place for abuse:  Biblical and practical resources to counteract domestic violence (2nd ed., 40% new content). Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press. (235 pp. + xxi) Nason-​Clark, N. (1997). The battered wife:  How Christians confront family violence. Louisville, KY: Westminster/​John Knox Press. (185 pp. + xx) Nason-​Clark, N., & Fisher-​Townsend, B. (2015). Men who batter. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. (241 pp. + xi) Nason-​Clark, N., & Kroeger, C. Clark. (2004). Refuge from abuse:  Hope and healing for abused Christian women. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press. (178 pp.) The Spanish translation was published in 2005 under the title Refugio del Abuso: Sanidad y esperanza paramujeres abusadas by Caribe-​Betania Editores, a division of Thomas Nelson Publishing. The Portuguese translation was published in 2006 under the title Refugio Contra o Abuso: Cura e Esperanca para Mulheres Cristas que Sofreram Abuso by Casa Publidadora das Assembleias de Deus. Sevcik, I., Rothery, M., Nason-​Clark, N., & Pynn, R. (2015). Overcoming conflicting loyalties:  Intimate partner violence, community resources and faith. Edmonton, Alberta, Canada: University of Alberta Press. (248 pp. + x) EDITED COLLECTIONS

Kroeger, C. Clark, Nason-​Clark, N., & Fisher-​Townsend, B. (Eds.). (2008). Beyond abuse in the Christian home: Raising voices for change. Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. (233 pp.) Nason-​Clark, N., Fisher-​Townsend, B., & Fahlberg, V. (Eds.). (2013). Strengthening families and ending abuse: Churches and their leaders look to the future. Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. (311 pp.) Nason-​Clark, N., Kroeger, C. Clark, & Fisher-​Townsend, B. (Eds.). (2011). Responding to abuse in Christian homes. Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. (248 pp.) Nason-​Clark, N., & Neitz, M. J. (Eds.). (2000/​2001). Guest editors of a special issue of Sociology of Religion entitled, Religion and Gender in the 21st Century, Vol. 61(4).

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(Co-​published 1  year later as Feminist Perspectives and Narrative in the Sociology of Religion. Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press, 2001) Stirling, M. L., Cameron, C. A., Nason-​Clark, N., & Miedema, B. (Eds.). (2004). Understanding abuse:  Partnering for change. Toronto, Ontario, Canada:  University of Toronto Press. (326 pp.) REFEREED ARTICLES AND BOOK CHAPTERS

Atkinson, T., & McMullin, S. (2011). Notes from the pastor’s office. In N. Nason-​Clark, C. Clark Kroeger, & B. Fisher-​Townsend (Eds.), Responding to abuse in Christian homes (pp. 138–​146). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Beaman-​Hall, L., & Nason-​Clark, N. (1997). Partners or protagonists:  Exploring the relationship between the transition house movement and conservative churches. Affilia: Journal of Women and Social Work, 12(2), 176–​196. Beaman-​Hall, L., & Nason-​Clark, N. (1997). Translating spiritual commitment into service:  The response of evangelical women to wife abuse. Canadian Women’s Studies, 17(1), 58–​61. Beaman, L., & Nason-​Clark, N. (1999). Evangelical women as activists: Their response to violence against women. In L. Beaman (Ed.), Shared beliefs, different lives: Women’s identities in evangelical context (pp. 111–​132). St. Louis, MO: Challice Press. Fisher-​Townsend, B., Holtmann, C., & McMullin, S. (2009). The RAVE website: A demonstration project for the innovative delivery of domestic violence training and resources. Social Work and Christianity, 36(4), 470–​479. Fisher-​Townsend, B., Nason-​Clark, N., Ruff, L., & Murphy, N. (2008). I am not violent:  Men’s experience in group. In C. Clark Kroeger, N. Nason-​Clark, & B. Fisher-​ Townsend (Eds.), Beyond abuse in the Christian home:  Raising voices for change (pp. 78–​99). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Holtmann, C., Fisher-​Townsend, B., McMullin, S., & Nason-​Clark, N. (2013). The dating game:  Innovative responses to abuse prevention and awareness training for religious youth. In N. Nason-​Clark, B. Fisher-​Townsend, & V. Fahlberg (Eds.), Strengthening families and ending abuse:  Churches and their leaders look to the future (pp. 287–​308). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Holtmann, C., & Nason-​Clark, N. (2012). Preparing for life: Gender, religiosity and education amongst second generation Hindus in Canada. Religion and Gender, 2(1), 57–​79. Holtmann, C., & Nason-​Clark, N. (2015). Reconfiguring stained glass:  Visual methods and research on religion and domestic violence. In R. Williams (Ed.), Seeing religion: Visual turn in sociology (pp. 174–​191). New York, NY: Rutgers University Press. Kroeger, C. Clark, & Nason-​Clark, N. (2008). Introduction. In C. Clark Kroeger, N. Nason-​Clark, & B. Fisher-​Townsend (Eds.), Beyond abuse in the Christian home: Raising voices for change (pp. xv–​xix). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Kroeger, C. Clark, Nason-​Clark, N., & Fisher-​Townsend, B. (2008). Conclusion. In C. Clark Kroeger, N. Nason-​Clark, & B. Fisher-​Townsend (Eds.), Beyond abuse in the Christian home: Raising voices for change (pp. 225–​233). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Kroeger, C. Clark, Nason-​Clark, N., & Fisher-​Townsend, B. (2011). Introduction. In N. Nason-​Clark, C. Clark Kroeger, & B. Fisher-​Townsend (Eds.), Responding to abuse in Christian homes (pp. 3–​11). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock.

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knowledge and beyond:  Reshaping the ethnography of religion (pp. 27–​32). New  York, NY: New York University Press. Nason-​Clark, N. (2003). The making of a survivor: Rhetoric and reality in the study of religion and abuse. In J. Beckford & J. Richardson (Eds.), Challenging religion (pp. 181–​ 191). London, UK: Routledge. Nason-​Clark, N. (2004). When terror strikes at home: The interface between religion and domestic violence. Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion, 43(3), 303–​310. Nason-​Clark, N. (2005). Linking research and social action:  Violence, religion and the family—​A case for public sociology. Review of Religious Research, 46(3), 221–​234. Nason-​Clark, N. (2007). Can hope really change people? Violent religious men and their journey of accountability. In B. Matthews & L. Beaman (Eds.), Exploring gender in Canada:  A  multi-​ dimensional approach (pp. 278–​ 280). Toronto, Ontario, Canada: Pearson. Nason-​Clark, N. (2007). Christianity and domestic violence. In N. Jackson (Ed.), Encyclopedia of domestic violence (pp. 161–​166). New York, NY: Routledge. Nason-​Clark, N. (2008). Domestic violence in the Christian home. In E. L. Manasseh (Ed.), Called to serve (pp. 202–​208). Bangalore, India: TAFTEE. Nason-​Clark, N. (2008). Holy hush or shattered silence? Abuse and the Christian church. Wineskins (Churches of Christ e-​journal). Nason-​Clark, N. (2008). When terror strikes the Christian home. In C. Clark Kroeger, N. Nason-​Clark, & B. Fisher-​Townsend (Eds.), Beyond abuse in the Christian home: Raising voices for change (pp. 167–​183). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Nason-​Clark, N. (2009). Christianity and the experience of domestic violence: What does faith have to do with it? Social Work and Christianity, 36(4), 379–​393. Nason-​Clark, N. (2014). Domestic violence and communities of faith: Shattering the holy hush. In NCFR: Catalyzing research, theory and practice, issue FF61: 19–​21. Washington, DC: National Council on Family Relations. Nason-​Clark, N. (2014). Talking about domestic violence and communities of faith in the public sphere:  Celebrations and challenges. In S. Lefebvre & L. Beaman (Eds.), Religion in the public sphere (pp. 149–​170). Toronto, Ontario, Canada:  University of Toronto Press. Nason-​Clark, N. (2015). Religion and abuse. In D. Sherkat (Section Ed.), International encyclopedia of the social and behavioral sciences (2nd ed., vol. 20, pp. 253–​257). Kidlington, UK: Elsevier. Nason-​Clark, N. (2015). Strong spirits, abused bodies:  Social, political and theological reflections. In P. Dickey Young (Ed.), Sexual diversity and religious diversity (pp. 220–​ 240). Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada: University of British Columbia Press. Nason-​Clark, N., & Fisher-​Townsend, B. (2005). Gender. In H. R. Ebaugh (Ed.), Handbook on sociology of religion and social institutions (pp. 207–​223). New  York, NY: Springer. Nason-​Clark, N., & Fisher-​Townsend, B. (2007). Women, gender and feminism in the sociology of religion:  Theory, research and social action. In T. Blasi (Ed.), American sociology of religion: Histories (pp. 203–​222). Leiden, Holland: Brill. Nason-​Clark, N., & Fisher-​Townsend, B. (2011). Acting abusively in the household of faith. In N. Nason-​Clark, C. Clark Kroeger, & B. Fisher-​Townsend (Eds.), Responding to abuse in Christian homes (pp. 101–​116). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Nason-​Clark, N., & Fisher-​Townsend, B. (2013). Introduction. In N. Nason-​Clark, B. Fisher-​Townsend, & V. Fahlberg (Eds.), Strengthening families and ending abuse: Churches and their leaders look to the future (pp. 3–​5). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock.

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Nason-​Clark, N., & Fisher-​Townsend, B. (2013). Conclusion. In N. Nason-​Clark, B. Fisher-​ Townsend, & V. Fahlberg (Eds.), Strengthening families and ending abuse: Churches and their leaders look to the future (pp. 309–​311). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Nason-​Clark, N., Fisher-​Townsend, B., Holtmann, C., McMullin, S., & Ruff, L. (2009). The RAVE Project:  Developing web-​based religious resources for social action on domestic violence. Critical Social Work, 10(1). Retrieved from http://​www1.uwindsor. ca/​criticalsocialwork/​the-​rave-​project-​developing-​web-​based-​religious-​resources-​for-​ social-​action-​on-​domestic-​abuse Nason-​Clark, N., Fisher-​Townsend, B., McMullin, S., & Holtmann, C. (2013). Family violence in Canada. In S. Asay, J. DeFrain, M. Metzger, & B. Moyer (Eds.), Family violence from a global perspective: Strengths-​based research and case studies (pp. 182–​199). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Nason-​Clark, N., Fisher-​Townsend, B., McMullin, S., & Holtmann, C. (2013). Life stories of religious men who act abusively: Elements of the coordinated community response. In N. Nason-​Clark, B. Fisher-​Townsend, & V. Fahlberg (Eds.), Strengthening families and ending abuse: Churches and their leaders look to the future (pp. 40–​64). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Nason-​Clark, N., & Holtmann, C. (2013). Perpetuating religion and culture:  Hindu women. In P. Beyer (Ed.), Growing up Canadian: Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists (pp. 145–​ 166). Kingston, Ontario, Canada: McGill–​Queen’s University Press. Nason-​Clark, N., & Holtmann, C. (2013). Thinking about cooperation and collaboration between diverse religious and secular community responses to domestic violence. In L. Beaman & W. Sullivan (Eds.), Varieties of religious establishment (pp. 187–​200). Surrey, UK: Ashgate. Nason-​Clark, N., & Holtmann, C. (In press). Naming the abuse, establishing networks, and forging negotiations:  Contemporary Christian women and the ugly subject of domestic violence. In A. Day (Ed.), Power and piety in the Anglican church worldwide. Surrey, UK: Ashgate. Nason-​Clark, N., Kroeger, C. Clark, & Fisher-​Townsend, B. (2011). Conclusion. In N. Nason-​Clark, C. Clark Kroeger, & B. Fisher-​Townsend (Eds.), Responding to abuse in Christian homes (). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Nason-​Clark, N., & McMullin, S. (2011). A charge for church leadership: Speaking out against sexual abuse and ministering to survivors. In A. Schmutzer (Ed.), Addressing sexual abuse through pastoral care (pp. 211–​223). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Nason-​Clark, N., McMullin, S., Fahlberg, V., & Schaefer, D. (2010). Referrals between clergy and community-​based resources: Challenges and opportunities. Journal of Family and Community Ministries, 23(4), 50–​60. Nason-​Clark, N., Mitchell, L., & Beaman, L. (2004). Bridge building between churches and community resources: An overview of the work of the Religion and Violence Research Team. Centre Paper Series, No. 3.  Fredericton, New Brunswick, Canada:  Muriel McQueen Fergusson Centre for Family Violence Research. Retrieved from http://​www.unb.ca/​ fredericton/​arts/​centres/​mmfc/​research/​researchteams/​religionviolence/​index.html Nason-​Clark, N., Mitchell, L., & Beaman, L. G. (2004). Bridge building: Linking sacred and secular support services for religious victims of abuse. In M. L. Stirling, A. Cameron, N. Nason-​Clark, & B. Miedema (Eds.), Understanding abuse: Partnering for change (pp. 223–​248). Toronto, Ontario, Canada: University of Toronto Press. Nason-​Clark, N., Murphy, N., Fisher-​Townsend, B., & Ruff, L. (2004). An overview of the characteristics of the clients at a faith-​based batterers’ intervention program. Journal of Religion and Abuse, 5(4), 51–​72.

194Appendix 2

Nason-​Clark, N., & Ruff, L. (2004, August). What is sexual violence? Concilium (3), 259–​ 268. [Invited article for a special issue on Catholic priests and child sexual abuse] Sevcik, I., Nason-​Clark, N., Rothery, M., & Pynn, R. (2011). Finding their voices and speaking out: Research among women of faith in western Canada. In N. Nason-​Clark, C. Clark Kroeger, & B. Fisher-​Townsend (Eds.), Responding to abuse in Christian homes (pp. 169–​189). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Sevcik, I., Nason-​Clark, N., Rothery, M., & Pynn, R. (2013). Caring for the caregivers: The efficacy of a centred meditation practice within a secular setting. In N. Nason-​ Clark, B. Fisher-​Townsend, & V. Fahlberg (Eds.), Strengthening families and ending abuse: Churches and their leaders look to the future (pp. 263–​286). Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock.

195

WEB-​B ASED RESOURCES

SPECIFICALLY FOR CHILDREN

National Child Traumatic Stress Network (NCTSN) at UCLA and Duke University: http://​ www.nctsn.org/​content/​resources. NCTSN is the leading national resource on child trauma (http://​www.nctsn.org/​content/​children-​and-​domestic-​violence). A  12-​page resource by NCTSN is provided at http://​www.doj.state.or.us/​victims/​pdf/​domestic_​ violence_​and_​children.pdf A guide for practice when responding to children exposed to domestic violence: http://​www. honorourvoices.org/​docs/​GuideforPractice.pdf The Green Book curriculum:  https://​www.thegreenbook.info/​documents/​instructor. pdf. The curriculum is designed for use by instructors and counselors in parent education classes, domestic violence shelter programs, batterers’ treatment programs, and other related counseling programs. [Cited in References as Schechter, S., & Edleson, J. L. (1999). Effective intervention in domestic violence and child maltreatment: Guidelines for policy and practice. Reno, NV: National Council of Juvenile and Family Court Judges.] Childhelp National Child Abuse Hotline (1-​800-​4-​A-​CHILD):  Assistance is provided throughout North America in more than 150 languages. SPECIFICALLY FOR VICTIMS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

The following resources have been adapted from https:www.VAonline.org, http://​ www.TheRAVEProject.org, and lists provided by others (see Asay, DeFrain, Metzger, & Moyer, 2014): Act to End Violence Against Women: http://​www.acttoendvaw.org Canadian National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-​800-​363-​9010 Calgary Domestic Violence Collective: http://​cdvc.ca. This is a resource center in Calgary that offers excellent information and safety information for victims. BC Association of Specialized Victim Service and Counselling Programs: http://​endingviolence.org. This resource offers a provincial voice on the west coast of Canada and a plethora of community-​based support services. Canadian Forces Canadian/​Family Resource Centres:  www.cfpsa.com/​en/​psp/​DMFS/​ About_​MFRCs_​e.asp. This resource provides information and resource support for families associated with the Canadian Forces.

196

Web-Based Resources

FaithTrust Institute: http://​www.faithtrustinstitute.org Jewish Women International: https://​www.jwi.org Muslim Wheel of Domestic Violence: http://​www.lfcc.on.ca/​muslim_​wheel_​of_​domestic_​ violence.html

Oxfam International:  https://​www.oxfam.org/​en/tackling-violence-against-women-iraqtajikistan We Will Speak Out.US: Uniting to End Sexual Violence: http://​wewillspeakout.us National Aboriginal Circle Against Family Violence: http://​nacafv.ca: This resource acts as a national clearing house for information, training programs, and monitoring of family violence among aboriginal peoples. National Clearinghouse on Family Violence Canada: http://​www.phac-​aspc.gc.ca/​ncfv-​ cnivf/​index-​eng,php. This is an excellent website that offers education and resources on various aspects of family violence, including elder abuse, child abuse, and sexual abuse. Ontario Network for the Prevention of Elder Abuse:  http://​www.onpea.org. This resource offers training and advocacy related to the abuse in the lives of senior adults. Ontario Women’s Justice Network: http://​owjn.org. This is an online legal resource for those attempting to understand more fully issues related to justice and the abuse of women and children. The RAVE Project: http://​www.theraveproject.org. RAVE, which stands for Religion and Violence e-​Learning, is an extensive web-​based resource related to violence in families associated with the Christian faith tradition. It offers a shelter map with contact information for every transition house in Canada and the United States. It provides information on safety plans and offers videos and online training modules. United Nations Secretary General’s Campaign, UNite to End Violence Against Women: http://​www.un.org/​en/​women/​endviolence WISE Muslim Women: http://​www.wisemuslimwomen.org 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-​Based Violence:  http://​www.swc-​cfc.gc.ca/​commemoration/​vaw-​vff/​index-​en.html SPECIFICALLY FOR THOSE WHO WORK WITH ABUSERS

Fathering After Violence is part of a larger initiative, Futures Without Violence: https://​www. futureswithoutviolence.org/​breaking-​the-​c ycle-​fathering-​after-​v iolence-​curriculum-​ guidelines-​and-​tools-​for-​batterer-​intervention-​programs. It has developed curriculum guidelines and tools for batterer intervention programs. It is especially inclusive of ethnic and racial diversity.

197

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violence. Retrieved from http://​www.who.int/​reproductivehealth/​publications/​violence/​9789241564625/​en Wuthnow, R. (2006). All in sync:  How music and art are revitalizing American religion. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Zellerer, E. (2003). Culturally competent programs: The first family violence program for aboriginal men in prison. Prison Journal, 83(2), 171–​190. Zine, J. (2004). Creating a critical faith-​centered space for antiracist feminism: Reflections of a Muslim scholar–​activist. Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion, 20(2), 167–​187. Zolotor, A., Theodore, A., Coyne-​Beasley, T., & Runyan, D. (2007). Intimate partner violence and child maltreatment: Overlapping risk. Brief Treatment and Crisis Intervention, 7(4), 305–​321.

217

AUTHOR INDEX

Aboriginal Healing Foundation, 17, 79 Abugideiri, S.E., 33, 122, 178 Ad Hoc Federal-​Provincial-​Territorial Working Group Reviewing Spousal Abuse Policies and Legislation, 159 Adams, M., 178 Adelson, N., 98 Agnew, V., 14, 28, 96 Alexander, J., 57 Alexander, L., 30 Alkhateeb, M.B., 33, 122, 178 Alley, J., 9, 69 Alsdurf, J., 38 Alsdurf, P., 38 Ambrose, A., 22, 23, 57 Ammar, M.H., 123 Ammerman, N.T., 13, 25, 30, 33, 46, 104, 114 Ames, L.J., 15 Anderson, K.L., 13, 106, 173 Anderson, L.M., 12 Anthias, F., 20, 178 Areán, J-C., 22 Asay, S., 29, 139 Aswad, B., 122 Baggett, J., 114 Baker, C., 13, 121 Ballout, S., 122 Bandura. A., 9 Barara, P.C., 44 Bartkowski, J.P., 13, 30, 40, 106, 173 Basile, K.C., 11 Bastida, E., 12 Battaglia, L.J., 153

Bayer, G., 30, 111 Beaman, L., 14, 15, 43 Beaman-​Hall, L., 154 Beattie, T., 146 Beaudry-​Mellor, T., 91 Beavis, M.A., 146 Becho, J., 13 Beck, J.R., 32, 38, 39, 147 Belknap, J., 111, 128 Bell, M.E., 111 Benavides, L., 11 Bennett, L., 111 Bergen, R.K., 22, 68 Bergin, L., 9, 10 Beyer, P., 12, 47 Bird, W., 15 Bishops, Catholic Synod, 77 Black, D.S. 9, 69 Black, M.C., 11 Bohn, C.R., 172 Bonnycastle, C., 30 Boots, D., 69 Bowker, L., 35, 36 Brah, A., 178 Bramadat, P., 14, 18, 108, 149 Breton, R., 14 Brown, J., 81, 98 Brown, J.C., 9, 172 Brown, T.G., 10 Bucosi, M., 81 Bullock, K., 123 Burge, S., 13 Burleigh, D., 147 Bussert, J., 31 Bussey, B., 18

218

Butler, J., 9 Butot, M., 14 Caetano, R., 173 Callahan, J., 22, 57 Cameron, C.A., 138 Campbell, H. A., 13 Campbell, J., 178 Campbell, M., 1, 21 Caplan, T., 10 Carlson, M.J., 9 Carmona, T., 122 Casanueva, C., 68 Chafetz, J., 13, 20 Chalk, R., 128 Chatters, L.M., 104 Chaudry, A.S., 11, 123 Chaves, M., 104 Chavez, J., 69 Chen, H., 9 Chen, P., 9 Clark, S.A., 33, 91 Clemens, N.A., 33 Clifford, A.M., 146 Cohen, P., 9 Collins, M., 112 Cooper-​W hite, P., 147 Copeland, S.M., 32, 172 Corradi, R.B., 33 Corvo, K., 69 Coyne-​Beasley, T., 68 Crenshaw, K.W., 19, 51, 118 Crocker, D., 128 Cross, S., 10 Cunradi, C.B., 173 Daly, M., 32 Danis, F.S., 16, 20, 178 Davidman, L., 12 Davis, G., 111 Dawson, M., 21, 111, 138, 140 DeFrain, J., 29, 139 DeKeseredy, W. S., 8, 140 Delsol, C., 9, 69 Denham, D., 15 Desai, S., 121, 123 Dickey Young, P., 7, 12 Dickson-​Gilmore, J., 98 Dinovitzer, R., 111

Author Index

Dobash, R.E., 31, 60, 140, 172 Dobash, R.P., 31, 60, 140, 172 Doherty, D., 21 Doob. A.N., 12 Doucet, A., 19 Draguns, J.G., 33 Drake, B., 81 Drumm, R, 35 Dull, V.T., 154 Dunham, K.T., 15 Dunning, E., 81 Duran, B., 17 Duran, E., 17 Durkheim, E., 12 Dutton, D., 9 Dutton, M.A., 111 DV@work, 22 Dyer, J., 35 Ebaugh, J.R., 13, 20, 177 Edgell, P. 12, 104 Edleson, J., 9, 22, 23, 57, 68, 112 Ehrensaft, M., 9 Eisenstein, Z., 60 Ellerton, A., 22, 23, 57 Elliott, B.A., 181 Ellison, C.G., 12. 13. 22. 33. 1-​6. 173 Emerson, M.O., 20 Epstein, D., 111 Espenshade, L., 30 Fahlberg, V., 33 Falk, D.R., 181 Faris, R., 20 Farnsley, A.E., 13 Fay, T.J., 14 Fellin, L., 22, 57 Ferrer, R., 13 Fiorenza, E.S., 32, 172 Fisher-​Townsend, B., 9, 11, 14, 15, 22, 34, 43, 51, 71, 93, 138, 172 Flannelly, K.J., 33, 68 Fleury, R.E., 43, 112, 127 Folkman, S., 11 Follansbee, K., 81 Fondacaro, M., 43 Fong, J.E., 18, 79 Fortune, M., 29, 37, 140, 147

219

Author Index

Gadomsky, A., 147 Gallagher, S.K., 30, 40 Galvani, S., 10 Ganapathy, N., 43 Ganley, A., 60, 181 Gengler, S.W., 173 George, L.K., 12 Gerhardt, E., 11 Gerrard, N., 138 Gill, C., 91 Gillespie, J., 15 Golding, J., 112 Gondolf, E.W., 10, 18, 74 Goodman, L., 111 Gorton, J., 60, 147, 181 Gover, A.R., 9 Griffin, J., 30 Gross, W.G., 68 Guillermin, E., 146 Gunn, J., 20 Haffajee, Z., 121, 123 Hague, G., 178 Hamill, R.M., 181 Hampton, R., 138 Hardesty, J., 112 Hartman, J.L., 111, 128 Hartsock, N., 8 Healey, K., 18 Hellmuth, J., 81 Henning, K., 81 Herring, S., 98 Hess, W., 68 Hiemstra, R., 146 Hill Collins, P., 50, 51, 79 Hines, D.A., 81 Hinojosa, V.J., 20 Hobart, M.A., 111 Högnäs, R.S., 9, 81 Holder, R., 43 Holdford, R., 81 Holtmann, C., 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 18, 33, 47, 56, 75, 115, 123, 126, 138, 149, 172, 177 Hondagneu-​Sotelo, P., 20 Hong, B.A., 33 Hoodfar, H., 12, 13 hooks, b., 79 Hope, T., 68

219

Horne, S.G., 30, 111 Horton, A., 35, 36, 38, 39, 154 Howard, D.E., 10 Howard Ecklund, E., 115 Hoyle, C., 43, 128 Huang, C.C., 68 Huang, W., 10 Hughes, M., 112 Humphreys, C., 10 Hunnicutt, G., 8 Hussain, S., 122 Idler, E.L., 12 Inglehart, R., 8 Ingram, E., 14 Israel, E., 22 Jackson, S.L., 143 Jaffe, P., 21 Jiwani, Y., 20 Johnson, B.R., 106 Johnson, H., 138, 140 Johnson, J.G., 9 Johnson, P., 35 Johnson, R., 19 Jones, L., 112 Jonson-​Reid, M., 81 Jordan, C.E., 128 Josephson, J., 178 Juan, E., 22, 57 Judicial Council on Cultural Diversity, 9 Jurkovic, G., 10 Kalleberg, A.L., 9 Kaslow, N., 10 Katerndahl, D., 13 Katula, S., 112 Kazemipur, A., 122 Kerley, K., 9, 69 Kernic, M.A., 111 Kersting, R., 35 King, M., 33 King, P.A., 128 Kirchberg, S., 22, 23, 57 Kiyoshk, R., 18, 97, 117, 160 Klevers, J., 14 Knickmeyer, N., 30, 111 Kohl, P., 81 Korteweg, A.C., 14

220

Krause, N., 12 Kroeger, C. Clark, 15, 32, 35, 38, 39, 49, 51, 57, 89, 139, 140, 147, 173 Kulwicki, A., 122 Kunst, J., 33 Kurlychek, M., 22, 57 Lambton, M., 20 Languedoc, S., 98 Laub, M., 9 Lauw, M., 98 Leavey, G., 33 Lebovics, S., 30, 35 Lee, J., 173 Legosz, M., 9 Leisring, P.A., 9 Levin, J.S., 12 Levitt, H.M., 30, 111, 173 Li, X., 10 Liao, M.A., 11, 19, 121, 122 Lindsay, J., 10 Lockhart, L., 20, 178 Loewenthal, K., 33 Long, P., 112 Loue, S., 15 Lu, S. 68 Luescher, J., 43 Lumis, A., 114 Ly, U., 111 MacKenzie, M., 68 MacKinnon, C., 8, 60 MacLeod, L., 140 Maduro, O., 146 Mahmood, S., 20 Maples, M., 30 Margolin, G., 9, 69 Martin, D., 29, 140 Martin, S., 68 Maschke, K.J., 15 Mather, D.M., 12 Maton, K.I., 181 Maxwell, C.D., 14 Mazerolle, P., 9 McDill, L., 29, 36 McDill, S.R., 29, 36 McDonough, S., 12 McGuire, M.B., 25, 114 McHugh, M., 68, 172

Author Index

McLatchie, L.R., 33 McMullin, S., 13, 14, 21, 33, 138, 148, 172, 173 McNamara, L., 98 Meadows, L., 10 Messman-​Moore, T., 112 Merino, S.M., 12 Metzger, M., 29, 139 Meyer, S., 43 Michalski, J.H., 10 Miedema, B., 9, 138 Miller, P., 22 Millett, L., 81 Minaker, J.C., 127 Mitchell, L., 15 Montminy, L., 10 Moore, T., 81 Moran, M., 68 Mosher, J., 9 Moyer, B., 29, 139 Mullender, A., 178 Murphy, C.M., 181 Murty, K., 68 Musser, P.H., 181 Myers, K., 90 Nason-​Clark, N., 9, 11, 13, 14, 15, 22, 32, 33, 34, 35, 39, 40, 43, 47, 49, 51, 54, 56, 57, 72, 89, 93, 123, 138, 139, 140, 148, 154, 160, 172, 173 National Center for Injury Prevention and Control, 21, 22 National Council Against Domestic Violence, 21 Neilson, L., 23, 128 Nicklas, E., 68 Nixon, G., 98 Norris, P., 8 O’Connor, P., 14 Omark, R., 33 O’Sullivan, C., 18 Overvold, J., 68 Owens, J., 168 Paat, Y.-​F., 68 Pagelow, M.D., 35 Park, C.L., 11 Park, J.Z., 20

21

Author Index

Parker, T., 112 Paz, E., 178 Pell, B., 146 Pennington-​Zoeller, K., 19 Perrault, S., 79 Petra, M., 81 Pew Research Forum, 122, 149 Phoenix, A., 178 Popescu, M., 35 Post, L.A., 14 Pratt, C., 19, 80 Profitt, N.J., 59 Prothero, S., 14, 149 Proulx, J., 79 Pullela, P., 61 Putnam, R.D., 13, 15, 21, 104 Pynn, R., 32, 54, 56, 160 Raines, N., 22 Rasool, S., 23 Reeves, A., 98 Reimer, S., 146 Regan, L., 10 Renzetti, C.M., 9, 22, 68 Richardson Foster, H., 22 Riel, E., 98 River, D., 10 Rodgers, J., 98 Roebuck, J., 68 Rogan, D., 112 Rogers, K., 112 Rosenbaum, A., 9 Rothery, M., 32, 54, 56 Roy, V., 10 Rubin, L., 81 Ruether, R. Radford, 32, 114, 146 Ruff, L., 14, 172 Runyan, D., 68 Sampson, R., 9 Sanders, A., 43, 128 Sanderson, J., 9 Saunders, D.G., 181 Schafer, J., 173 Schaefer, D., 33 Schechter, S., 22, 68 Schmidt, J., 112 Schmidt, S., 22, 23, 57 Schnabl Schweitzer, C., 96, 153

221

Seamans, C., 81 Seagren, E., 22, 23, 57 Selby, J.A., 8, 18, 121 Seraganian, P., 10 Sevcik, I., 32, 43, 54, 56, 160 Shannon-​Lewy, C., 154 Shaw, P., 146 Shelley, G.A., 14 Shepard, M.F., 181 Sherman, L., 112 Shorey, R.C., 14 Sider, R., 80 Sikkink, D., 20 Siltanen, J., 19 Sinden, P.G., 43, 127 Sirisunyaluck, B., 9, 69 Sixsmith, J., 22, 57 Smailes, E., 9 Smith, C., 18, 20, 30 Social Affairs Commission of the Assembly of Quebec Bishops, 74, 75, 77, 146 Sokoloff, N.J., 19, 20, 80 Spangaqro, J., 98 Stabb, S., 81 Stanley, N., 22 Statistics Canada, 14, 17, 69, 120, 149, 182 Stephens, B.J., 43, 127 Stewart, S., 98 Stirling, M.L., 138 Stith, S., 68 Stokes, A., 114 Stover, C., 22 Straatman, A.L., 21 Stroope, S., 13 Stuart, G.L., 14, 81 Sussman, B., 69 Tam, D., 178 Taylor, R.J., 12 Teague, R., 9 Temple, J., 81 The Learning Network, 21 Theodore, A., 68 Theriault, L., 91 Thiara, R.K., 10, 178 Thibodeau, S., 98 Thomas, A.H., 33 Thompson, M., 10

222

Timmins, L., 170 Tirone, V., 14 Townsend-​Gilkes, C., 5, 51, 168 Tracy, S.R., 40 Tranby, E.P., 12 Trinatapoli, J.A., 106 Tripp, M., 147 Turcott, D., 10 Tutty, L., 178 Uekert, B.K., 14, 90, 181 United Nations, 21, 31 Unger, J.B., 69 Unruh, H., 80 Untenstaller, U., 112 Ursel, J., 79 US Department of Justice, Bureau of Justice Statistics, 17 Vaaler, K.J., 33 Van de Veen, S.L, 16, 159, 181 Van Hightower, N.R., 60, 147, 181 Van Wormer, K., 44, 98 Vidales, G., 178 Vikse, J., 68 Volpp, L., 178 Vosko, L.F., 9 Wachholz, S., 9 Wadud, A., 20 Walby, S., 8, 20 Waldram, J., 18, 97 Wallace, H., 16 Walsh, S., 10 Ware, K.M., 173

Author Index

Wareham, J., 69 Warrier, S., 178 Washington, H., 22, 57 Wasman, M., 33 Weaver, A.J., 33, 149 Weaver, M.J., 68 Werk, A., 10 West, T., 5, 168 White, H.R., 9 Whipple, J.B., 18, 42, 73 Whitehead, A., 20 Wiehe, V.R., 33 Wilcox, W.B., 40 Wilkins, M., 35, 36 Williams, O., 16, 18, 22, 68 Williamson, J., 38, 39, 154 Wilson, J., 68 Winter, M.T., 114 Wittberg, P., 177 Wolf, M.E., 111 Wolff, D.A., 147 Wood, A., 68, 172 Wood, R., 13 World Health Organization, 31 Wright, W., 35, 36 Wuthnow, R., 104 Xu, X., 9, 69 Yi, S., 68 Zellerer, E., 18, 160 Zhuang, Z., 178 Zine, J., 20, 121 Zolotor, A., 68

23

SUBJECT INDEX

Aboriginal, 17–​19, 79, 97–​98, 117–​118, 159 Abused women, 29–​30 Defecting in place, 114 Abusers [religious men], 48–​49, 66, 80–​82, 86–​87, 91 Manipulation, 84 Accountability and justice, 14, 17, 24, 39, 53, 64, 66–​81, 84–​85, 87–​88, 93, 105, 117, 132, 141, 183 Biblical understanding of marriage, 40, 78 Challenges/​complications for women of faith, 28–​29, 31–​44 For those assisting women, 2, 4, 42–​43, 180 Challenges/​complications for men of faith, 23–​24, 66–​80, 110–​113 Challenges/​complications for congregations Abuse, 105–​106 Boundaries, 109–​110 Confidentiality, 106–​108, 109 Help-​seeking, 108–​109 Ill-​Equipped, 110, 114 Lack of co-​ordinated response, 113–​114 Children, 22–​24, 56–​57, 68–​69, 93–​94 Supervised visitation, 112 Co-​ordinated/​Collaborative community response [CCR], 17–​18, 90–​91, 123–​124, 137, 143–​144, 155–​167, 169–​179 Collaborating priorities, 172–​176

Congregational life, 3, 85–​87, 91–​93, 99–​105, 116–​121 Specialty ministries, 116–​117 Criminal Justice, 15–​17, 43–​44, 112 Barriers, 110–​111 127–​128 Culturally competent services, 17–​18, 78–​80, 96 Faith leaders [religious leaders; pastor; minister; priest; imam], 36–​38, 39–​42, 44, 47–​48, 49–​51, 67–​73, 80 Challenges, 74–​77, 113 Best Practices, 7, 40, 83, 151 Referrals, 32–​34, 70–​72, 82 Training,129–​154: dynamics, 133–​135: strategies, 136–​138: content, 138: seminaries 144–​148 Family Violence Awareness Sunday, 101–​103 Feminist analysis of violence, 60, 180 Fragile families, 22, 68 Hope, 88–​89 Intersectionality, 19–​21, 24, 178 Instability factors, 9, 22, 68 Native spirituality, 97, 117–118, 160–161 Perspectives The Victim, 58, 124 The Pastor, 58–​59, 94–​96, 125 The Advocate, 59–​60, 96, 126

224

Perspectives (cont.) The Criminal Justice System, 60, 96–​98, 126–​128 The Abuser, 94 Reality of control, 22–​24, 27, 34, 38–​39, 48, 51, 59, 64, 72–​73, 85, 88, 93, 107, 112, 152–​153 Reality of fear, 2, 16, 29–​30, 32, 41, 48–​49, 52, 56, 95, 107, 111, 119, 139, 145, 148, 181 Religion, lived, 2, 23,25, 46, 64, 114, 119, 121 Research sites Calgary, Alberta, 53, 159–​161 FaithLink, 5, 54, 60 HomeFront, 5, 54, 60, 159–​162, 175 Charlotte, North Carolina, 54, 167–​169 Columbia, Missouri, 53, 163–​167 Eugene, Oregon, 54–​55, 161–​163 CAFA [Christians as Family Advocates], 6, 55, 162–​164 Womenspace, 6, 54, 161 Resiliency, 8, 10–​12, 24 Safety, 142 Seminary [ies], 4, 37, 40, 44, 59, 67, 78, 129, 139–​142,144–​148

Subject Index

Shelter workers, 42–​43 Solutions, 44, 56, 80, 93, 116–​123, 126, 176–​177 Soul wound, 17–​18 Stained glass story of abuse, 45–​46, 140–​141, 179 Support networks, 11–​13, 18, 20, 41, 46–​47, 55, 87–​88, 92, 121, 115, 123 The RAVE Project www.theraveproject. com, 5–​6, 37, 45, 49, 51, 53–​55, 89, 138–​140, 142–​143, 148–​152, 161 Vulnerability [ies], 1, 8–​10, 35–​36, 111, 141–​142, 150, 176–​177 Women, victim/​survivors Aboriginal, 182 African American, 35, 50–​51, 54 Catholic, 61, 75, 77–​78, 91, 115–​116, 165–​166, 168, 177 Hindu, 47 Immigrant, 18, 40–​42, 55–​56, 176–​177 Korean, 41–​42 Muslim [Islam], 13, 20, 55–​56, 79, 121–​123, 175–​178 Peaceful Families Project, 122 Trafficked, 177

25

27

29