The Good, the Bad & the Ugly - the Presbyterian Church's apology

 For survivors of abuse, an apology has the power to validate those who were once disbelieved and to lift shame and place it where it rightfully belongs. Apologies can also reconcile relationships and give people a hope for a better future. All of this is possible provided the expression of remorse is genuine, which means that the words said must be reflected in actions. As the church says: by their fruits you shall know them (Matthew 7:16).

An insincere expression of remorse only causes more hurt for those already suffering because an apology without change is manipulation. These sorts of apologies are designed to meet the needs of the perpetrator, to ease their guilt and restore their reputation.

Last week, the Presbyterian Church of Aotearoa New Zealand issued its long-awaited apology for abuse in its care.  But how did it measure up?

The Good: This Church at least fronted up.  Holding a public apology for survivors, rather than hiding behind a website statement as many other denominations have, took courage and effort.

The event itself was trauma-informed and culturally rich. Te Roopū Toiora provided a backdrop of art and reflection. For faith-based survivors who had watched the State apology last year, this was a rare chance to be acknowledged by their own denomination.

The Bad: Despite claims that the Church regretted their behaviour, and “now understand that survivors must be at the centre in our considerations and our responses,” survivors of abuse in Presbyterian care were conspicuously absent on stage.

Several survivors spoke from lived experience in other denominations or from state care settings, and a poem was read about a Catholic abuse victim.  Where was the voice of the more than 30 survivors who were willing to speak to the Royal Commission about their abuse by the Presbyterians? How hard did they try to find these people? And if these survivors were too angry about their redress to speak at the event, how much effort was made to remedy that?

By contrast, when psychiatrists apologised to Lake Alice survivors last year, victims were able to speak back, even to voice anger in the room. Those who couldn’t be there in person were able to provide their response by video, even if it was very critical. No such opportunity existed here.

Not only were survivors notably absent on stage at the event, but many were not able to even be in the room. The event was only announced ten days beforehand, despite this apology coming so late and being planned for over a year. Many survivors didn’t learn of the event in time or were unable to get there with so little notice. The Church also made it clear that it would not provide any travel allowances to help survivors attend. Church officials, media, well-being people and other speakers were likely being paid to attend. Given there were only fifty people at the apology, this group probably made up far more of the numbers than actual survivors of abuse in the Presbyterian church. They probably felt valued and important.

The Church also proudly claimed that survivors informed the apology and their new redress system, and that these same people would now hold them accountable. However, rather than publicly advertise for survivors to apply to join their PCANZ Survivors Advisory Group of Experts, the Church chose to shoulder tap just four people. This is in stark contrast to how the State appointed their redress advisory group: the positions were widely advertised, and the diverse group of successful applicants were named.

The existence of the PCANZ survivor advisory group, or who was on it, was not made public during the year this group worked with the church. One change that survivors have consistently asked for from churches is for them to be transparent, and Rev Rose Luxford promised this in her apology. Despite there being several large survivor networks easily accessible on social media, the vast majority of survivors of abuse in the Presbyterian church or in other faith-based institutions were left in the dark about this work. They were unable to apply to be on the advisory group and unable to reach out to any members on it to share their views on this work - because they didn’t know who they were. Survivors deserve the opportunity to speak for themselves or to have a say in who speaks for them, and how. It’s condescending to be told by the Church that they’ve already chosen who will be representing them and insulting to be told of an apology that they can’t even realistically attend. The feeling of being unseen and unheard once again only deepens the wound.

It is concerning that only half of those on the PCANZ advisory have lived experience of abuse in the care of the Presbyterian church, and all of the women on it have strong allegiances to the Christian church, one an Anglican priest and another the Chief of Staff for Campus Crusade for Christ. While there is nothing wrong with having these women in the group, the view of those survivors who view the Church from the outside is also much needed. There is also a conflict of interest, whether perceived or actual, that demands that these not be the only female survivors given the role of holding this church accountable.

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 The Ugly:

Perhaps the most disappointing aspect of the apology was the brief mention that the Church had chosen to use the Ministry for Social Development’s framework for redress, a process that has angered many survivors with its slow and woefully inadequate payments. The Church did say that they “will be seeking strong survivor-led advice on this and whether it is adequate or not.”  Only a Church truly deaf to the survivor voice could not already know the answer to that.

Donna Matahaere-Atariki drew a comparison of the Church’s apology to the government’s apologies to iwi and she noted that it is for those affected to decide whether they can accept it. There are similarities she didn’t mention though, such as that the government only gave iwi a tiny percentage of the value of the land they stole, just as the Church is offering survivors far less compensation than they deserve. It is not surprising that many Māori still don’t trust the government and continue to carry anger and pain.  The Church claims that it wants to rebuild trust with survivors, but that is going to take a lot more than this event.