(Sermon for the Liturgy of Lament and Blessing, Trinity Episcopal Cathedral, 10/17/2018)
Hashtag why I didn’t report: some field notes from social media.
“I didn’t report because the first time I was under 5.”
“I didn’t report because I have been raised in a society and culture that makes me responsible for the actions of grown men.”
“I didn’t report because the fear is still real, even now.”
“I started to report. I really tried to. But after they took me to the station, they called in all those Staten Island beat cops who circled me like wolves. As if I were the perpetrator. As if I were meat. I was still 17. No condolences, please. This is what being a woman is like.”
“I didn’t report because he bought my dinner.”
“I didn’t report because he was my boyfriend.”
“I didn’t report because he had a 14 year old daughter. I didn’t want to be responsible for her losing her father.”
“I didn’t report because of the pain: the memory now hurts almost as much as the violation then. I didn’t report because of the shame: I wondered if somehow it was my fault for the audacity of being female on that isolated trail. I didn’t report because of the prejudice: I was a girl in the 1970’s who knew full well I would be judged a liar until proven truthful.”
Hashtag why I didn’t report?
“NO girl I know told her parents and called the police, let alone the FBI. We whispered our trauma to each other in the dark at sleepovers and pretended everything was normal in the daylight.
We knew we wouldn’t be believed, that our neighbors/uncles/brothers/upstanding-young-men just wouldn’t do that. And then we’d have to carry blame as well as the shame (because of course this was our fault, right?).
Victim blaming is nothing new. It’s the first tool used by those with power to try and keep their victims silent.”
Hashtag no words.
Hashtag fire shut up in my bones I am weary of holding in.
The world is changing—we’re finding our voices and we’re using them—even when we know it will tear our lives apart. I’m speaking up because I want a better world for my sons: one where it is the norm to respect the dignity of every human being.”
When any one of speaks our painful truth to a friend, or in church, or before an audience of senators, then let’s be sure she knows she’s not alone. “Have no fear,” says the Gospel of Matthew, “for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known. ‘What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light.’”
Hashtag purity recollected.
All merciful God, to whom all hearts are open, all sorrows known, and from whom no secrets are hid; cleanse the pain of our trauma by the lovingkindness of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you, and praise our holy bodies; through Jesus Christ who suffered with us.
Amen.
God bless you for sharing with me this burden you have carried all these years.