I first encountered Jean Vanier and his achievements 35 years ago when I arrived in Canada. I was new to the country, just married, and eager to embrace all that was good about my adopted home. Of the importance of his work with L’Arche there was no doubt. Yet the man himself always concerned me. He had obvious charisma and charm, but it seemed to be wrapped in certain troubling assumptions. The best way I can describe it is as passive arrogance. Because of his triumphs in one area, everything else he said and did — and he didn’t seem to discourage the idea — was considered sacrosanct. More worrying in some ways was the response of his followers. To criticize him, as I dared to do on a subject entirely unrelated to his work with people living with disabilities, was considered a virtual heresy. I’ll never forget how I was criticized when I took issue with some of his comments.
I’d no idea, of course, that in 2020, just nine months after his death, it would be revealed that he’d engaged in coercive sexual relationships with six women, and that recently we’d see a report that the number of those abused was at least 25. It’s horrible, but while I wish I could say otherwise, I wasn’t particularly surprised then and am not enormously surprised now.
Because to award people, especially men and especially men who live and work in a Christian culture of holiness and reverence, an almost mystic reputation of infallibility and closeness to God is extraordinarily dangerous. If you doubt me, look at the number of cases of priests and ministers who have taken advantage of their position to abuse sexually, emotionally, or financially. By the way, Canada is as bad as anywhere else.
It’s generally not because uniquely corrupt people are attracted to ministry, but because ministry, when it goes wrong and is twisted, provides unique opportunities for those who are. As clerics, and I speak as an Anglican priest, we speak from an altar, have authority, preach, lead prayer, instruct, provide comfort and care. That can make us seem special, which we’re not. Also, churches contain a cross-section of society, but vulnerable people are inevitably attracted to a place of hope and help, as is right. Vulnerability is by its nature capable of being exploited.
Vanier wasn’t a priest but was considered a virtual living saint. Good Lord, as soon as he died there was discussion of beginning the process of officially declaring him as one. It’s difficult to recall now just how sparkling and untouchable his reputation was. A great Canadian, a great Christian, a great man! If someone is considered to speak for God, a critic has thus to be in the other camp. It’s one of the reasons that pedophile priests in the Roman Catholic church could escape justice for so long. Sometimes even the victims’ parents refused to believe their own children.
When adults are abused, they can be made to feel as if they’re the wrong-doer. Had they done something to make someone so devout fall into sin or, in other words, was it their fault? And had they considered the damage they will cause to the faith and the work if they go public with their allegations? The pattern has been repeated time and time again. It’s not only obscene and dishonest, it also repeats and deepens the abuse, making self-harm, depression, and even suicide much more likely.
Abuse occurs anywhere there is a power dynamic — work, school, home, play — and isn’t confined to churches. The difference is that religious cloud of unknowing, one that Jean Vanier seems to have sheltered under for a very long time indeed.
There have been changes—we’re far more aware, accountability and transparency have genuine meaning now—and most churches have implemented long overdue policies and procedures.
The real transformation, however, has to be in attitude. Nobody is above criticism and question, and the more authority and influence, the more need to be open and answerable. If it applies to employers, teachers, and politicians, it should apply more and not less to clergy and Christian leaders.
It applied to Jean Vanier in abundance, but he and his acolytes forgot that all too readily. The damage done is incalculable, to those 25 women and to so many other people who trusted and loved. I hope and pray that such a thing never happens again but, forgive my cynicism, I won’t be holding my breath.
