Domestic violence: the secret disabler

“The Spirit gives us courage… to hear the voices of peoples long silenced …”
("A Brief Statement of Faith," 66, 70)

Domestic violence is a major cause of disability. Yet many survivors must guard their stories, must never reveal their secrets. Those who must be silent are outsiders in our churches and in our communities.

Many years after leaving an abusive partner, the Reverend Paula Sanders still lives with impaired vision, chronic back pain, post-traumatic stress and a sinus condition that should have been corrected by immediate surgery. Most pervasive, however, is the continuing emotional pain. As she shares her experiences, she says, “We tell our stories over and over and over until the pain leaks out.”

Isolation marked Paula’s years of domestic violence. She remembers not being allowed to visit friends. She could not reveal her secret to her family. She recalls trying to be quiet while she was being beaten so that her three children would not guess the truth.

Paula held a responsible position at a university but the abuse did not stop at the door to her office. Her partner called dozens of times every day with accusations of infidelity. When her nose was broken, a female supervisor would not allow her to attend an event with a bandage because, “It wouldn’t look good.”
 
The hemorrhaging woman in Mark 5: 25-34/Mathew 9: 20-22/ Luke 8: 43-48 was also an outsider. The purity laws determined who could participate fully in the life of the community.  These practices, which included dietary laws and ritual bathing, identified the Jews as belonging to the covenant community called by a holy God. To be “impure” or “unclean” was to be outside the community until purification had taken place.

Every village had its ritual bath. These were used by every woman after her menstrual period, the time during which she was “impure.” The unnamed woman in the Gospels had been bleeding for twelve years and, therefore, had not been able to go to the bath. No one could touch her or any object she had touched. What resolve and what courage it must have taken for her to reach out and touch Jesus!

Like the hemorrhaging woman, Paula lost her identity, her selfhood, and her ability to participate fully and openly in her community. She had to keep her secret. Perhaps worst of all, however, was a deep sense of guilt. “I thought I deserved to be beaten,” she said.

But the good news — the liberating news — is that Paula, like the woman who touched Jesus, also touched and was touched by grace.

After years working in the academic community and corporate world, she left to do the work she truly loved. She is a textile artist so she began to design and create fine, high-quality clothing.

One day Paula welcomed a visitor whose friendly presence transformed her life. The Reverend Alika Galloway, co-pastor of Kwanzaa Community Church, an African-American Presbyterian congregation in a troubled Minneapolis neighborhood, came to Paula’s studio. Alika had been referred to Paula but she wanted to get to know the artist before she entrusted her with a clothing design. The two women formed a trusting friendship and Paula, at last, was able to tell her story.  When she visited Kwanzaa, she discovered that even though she was white, she was not an outsider at Kwanzaa. Her healing had begun!

Twelve years after leaving her abuser, Paula was ordained to the ministry of Word and Sacrament. She now directs the Lydia Women’s Empowerment Ministries. The women gather in a room carpeted in purple to learn to sew beautiful, original stoles, robes and banners for liturgical use. As they sew, they tell their stories and “the pain leaks out.” In Paula’s words, they are “recovering their humanity.” In addition, the women are learning to be advocates for themselves and for their families. They are learning how to get involved in the legislative system.

According to Paula, one in every four women suffers from domestic violence. The results are physical, emotional and familial. No socio-economic or religious group can claim to be exempt.  In poor families abuse may be made more complex by issues related to poverty: homelessness, inadequate nutrition, lack of medical care and the threat of losing needed services. Yet, the church has often remained silent. Paula says that whenever she names domestic violence from a pulpit, someone tells her later, “Thank you! I’ve never heard it mentioned before in church.”

Paula is often asked why women submit to violence and why they don’t leave their abusers. She answers that besides low self-esteem and lack of a strong sense of personal identity, many women feel trapped because they lack the financial means for supporting themselves and their families. For these women, learning marketable skills is essential. In addition, the justice system is not always supportive of abused women. Paula cites her own experience. On the day her abuser was to be sentenced to prison, he appeared at her door. Without thinking, she opened her door and he pushed inside. His attorney argued that Paula had let him into her home; the charges were dropped.

The unnamed woman in the Gospels touched Jesus and found healing as she was restored to the community. Paula, and others who live with the physical and emotional pain of family violence, can find healing and inclusion in the community as we break the silence and isolation of domestic violence. Paula’s advice to the church is to “walk with and walk with and walk with” those who have been the outsiders among us.

— by Rev. Bebe Baldwin, Vice Moderator of PDC Leadership Team

Presbyterians Against Domestic Violence Network (PADVN) works to overcome the silence about domestic violence in our congregations. Learn more about their efforts and how you can be involved. Contact Nancy Troy in the PHEWA office at (888) 728-7228, x5794.