Guy to Guy

No more excuses

While scrolling Threads earlier this week, I came across a post with an intriguing title: “The Seven Excuses My Church Buddies Give Me for Dismissing Sexual Abuse.”

I wasn’t familiar with the author, a man by the name of Ryan George. I clicked on the link and was immediately hooked, several paragraphs before I came across a reference to For Our Daughters.

Ryan is a guy’s guy. The kind of guy John Eldredge would be proud of. He describes himself as “an adventurer” who has pursued “adrenaline rushes and encounters with the Divine on all seven continents and both polar circles.” He’s plunged off cliffs, paraglided in nine countries, and walked on biplane wings 3000 feet in the air—twice. He also leads his church’s parking lot greeter team and shepherds a “Dude Group”—a spiritual adventure community for men.

In other words, he checks all the boxes.

Ryan George, explorience.org

Ryan George, explorience.org

Ryan is also the son of a sexual predator pastor, and he wrote a book about his faith reconstruction in light of that earlier this year.

Writing and speaking on abuse in churches, Ryan couldn’t help but notice that most of the voices in this space are female. He decided to have a heart-to-heart with his fellow men.

He knows his audience, and knows the sort of pushback that’s common in these conversations. He meets this pushback head-on, making a powerful case for why his brothers need to set their excuses aside.

The case he makes aligns closely with the central message of For Our Daughters, and Ryan has graciously given me permission to share his words here:

The Seven Excuses My Church Buddies Give Me for Dismissing Sexual Abuse

On Sunday, September 29, Michigan pastor Daniel White knelt next to his pulpit and begged his congregation not to “listen to those who spread evil reports.” He wanted to control the narrative regarding two men in his congregation who had been imprisoned—one for sexual assault and the other for child sex abuse materials depicting children as young as infants. White called his congregation to pray for these new “missionaries” to the prison system.

A few weeks later, Texas pastor Joel Webbon preached—from his pulpit—about how to threaten women into silence about their abuse. “#metoo would end real fast … All you have to do is publicly execute a few women who have lied.”

If you’re shocked by statements like these from faith leaders, I’m jealous.

Somedays, I wish I didn’t know how rampant this disgusting perspective is in American churches. I’ve cooperated with legal and law enforcement professionals in regard to clergy abuse, and I’m a monthly financial supporter of a nonprofit news organization that investigates abuse in the church. My email inbox and social media feeds often include the shameful stories of despicable men. Earlier this year, I released a book about my faith reconstruction journey as the son of a sexual predator pastor. During and after my book publicity tour, I’ve received disheartening messages from victims or witnesses of pastoral abuse.

What you’ll notice in online spaces is that most of the voices for sexual justice are female. The witnesses, whistleblowers, journalists, and protestors are mostly women. That may be part of why young women are leaving the church in droves at rates higher than young men are. Few Christian men want to go on record with their opinions. Few of the men in my parachurch Bible study seem comfortable with my passion for the topic, despite the number of them who have daughters, nieces, and granddaughters.

I get it. It puts church-going men in an awkward position. See, more than 60% of evangelical pastors (the vast majority of whom are men) plan to vote for a sexual predator on November 5. Roughly 80% of their congregants tell pollsters they plan to do the same. Religious people, and specifically church-attending men, are casting their ballots so that the Secretary of Education will report to someone who shouldn’t be allowed within 500 feet of a school. When I’ve brought this up on phone calls, text message replies, and social media comments, I’ve been told I’m inappropriately connecting Trump’s sex crimes to his candidacy.

It’s apparently not fair for me to remind men that:

• he bragged about sexually assaulting multiple adult women

• which gives credence to the collection of women who have reported nonconsensual sexual contact with him

• he boasted about his impunity to watch topless and naked teenagers in changing rooms

• he talked to his staff about what sex might be like with his own daughter and with Howard Stern about her sexual organs

• he posted a $91.6 million bond after being found liable for defaming and raping a woman he couldn’t distinguish from his former wife

• while awaiting sentencing for hush money payments to cover cheating on his third wife with a porn actress, he tried again to buy her silence

As a Rush Limbaugh “Ditto Head” in the ’90s, I was told Bill Clinton’s extramarital affairs, his sexual harassment of Paula Jones, and his ensuing coverups disqualified him from public service. But those same voices from the religious right that called for Clinton’s impeachment now discount far worse sexual deviancy from their political champion.

In her moving documentary, For Our Daughters, Dr. Kristin Kobes Du Mez features victims of clergy sexual assault as well as their advocates for justice. In the final few minutes of the 30-minute film, the historian and professor connects a culture that dismisses church abuse to one that excuses support for an unabashed predator. “It may seem surprising that a self-professed moral majority would end up supporting a candidate who has bragged about assaulting women. But if you look inside their own communities, you can see how for decades they have propped up men who have abused power and have excused all kinds of harm, all kinds of abuses for the sake of that power. The end justifies the means.”

I’m accustomed now to the bogus excuses predators like my dad and their parishioners give for dismissing their sexual crimes. They say the victim should learn what forgiveness “truly” means. They claim the reputation of the gospel is at stake. They declare that all the good being done by their church in the community is worth more than justice for victims. They accuse the victim of inviting sexual advancement. (My dad told one of his teenage victims he thought she’d “be okay with it.”) They tell the victim and their family that discussing the criminally immoral behavior is sinful gossip. They love to quote, “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.”

To justify voting for Donald Trump, though, my church friends use a different set of excuses.

“David was a rapist—and a ‘man after God’s heart.’”

David also wrote Psalm 51—maybe the most ardent repentance poetry of the ancient world. Trump told an interviewer that he’s never asked God for forgiveness. “‘Why do I have to repent or ask for forgiveness, if I am not making mistakes?’ added Trump.” But even admitting wrong and communicating remorse didn’t exempt David from repercussions. The consequences of his debauchery multiplied into grievous territory. The heir to David’s throne raped one of David’s daughters. In retribution, another of David’s sons murdered his rapist brother, tried to overthrow the government, and died as a fugitive. David’s son Solomon filled the palace with hundreds of sexual partners. When his reign was over, the nation fell apart. That’s not a great precedent to invite into the American story.

“Sometimes you have to hold your nose and pick the lesser of two evils.”

The people who knew Trump best don’t think the man who praises dictators is the lesser of two evils. Only four of his 44 former cabinet personnel—just 9% of his former leadership team—support his bid for a second term. More than 100 Republican former legislators, governors, and White House & congressional staffers joined Trump’s opponent in a recent Pennsylvania campaign stop. “More than 200 staffers for four previous Republican presidential nominees have endorsed” his Democrat rival. One of those voices belongs to the ultraconservative former Vice President Dick Cheney. More than 700 national security officials have declared Trump unfit to return to the Oval Office. While Trump was still in office, John Kelly, his former White House chief of staff said, “He is the most flawed person I have ever met.“

You can’t be the lesser of two evils and suggest that the National Guard or United States armed forces should be used to punish your political opponents. You can’t be the slightly better option and propose a day of extreme police violence similar to the horror movie, The Purge. Trump’s former Director of National Intelligence has wondered if Putin has been blackmailing Trump. Trump’s former top general declared the former President, “fascist to the core” and “the most dangerous person to this country.” I trust these courageous men to know Trump better than the men who sing Chris Tomlin songs in my city.

“He tells it like it is.”

I got this one from a few chairs over during a fireside Bible study the night Hurricane Milton hit Florida, and the irony couldn’t have been greater. See, Trump had been spreading so many lies about the emergency response to Helene and Milton that Republican governors repudiated them in press conferences, and even one of his FoxNews defenders refuted them to his face on air. A few weeks earlier, a Republican governor pleaded with the public that Trump’s claims about Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio, weren’t just harmful but also not even remotely true. These lies go with the 30,573 false claims that just one media outlet documented from his four years in office. After years of claiming the 2020 election was stolen and rigged (after losing all 60+ court cases for lack of evidence), Trump slipped up and admitted he “lost by a whisker“—proving he’s spent years saying the opposite of what he knew to be true.

So, if he isn’t a truth teller or someone who speaks truth to power, “telling it like it is” probably means “saying what I’m thinking.” I’m not sure if that was when he called military casualties “suckers and losers,” when he mocked a disabled journalist, or when he labeled immigrants as “vermin” who are poisoning the blood of our country. (If those sound familiar, it’s because Adolph Hitler used the German equivalent of those words when making speeches about Jews—which might give credence to Trump’s running mate once calling him “America’s Hitler.”) None of that represents the decorum fitting of a President let alone the heart of Jesus. And none of that represents the kind of guy we’d want our daughters to date—let alone make decisions about their futures.

“I vote pro-life.”

For the first time in my lifetime, neither major political candidate is running with a pro-life agenda. That makes sense since abortions rose significantly during Trump’s four years in office and have continued to climb since the overturning of Roe v Wade. This summer, Trump forced the Republican National Committee to remove anti-abortion policy from their platform. Vance has said Trump will not sign a national abortion ban. Trump confirmed this, promising to reject any such bill.

So, a vote for Trump isn’t a vote against abortion. Even if it were, anti-abortion doesn’t always mean pro-life. It’s not pro-life for women to risk their lives with litigation-hesitant doctors delaying treatment or interstate travel needed for urgent medical care. It’s not pro-life for a pregnant woman to bleed to death in a hospital parking lot because she’s in a red state. Since the Dobbs decision, ten states have enacted abortion bans even for rape victims—including minors. I wonder how many of the Trump voters in my life would want their wife, daughter, niece, or granddaughter to carry a rapist’s child. Trump’s commitment to leave this issue to the states means men who vote for him are choosing that reality for tens of thousands of teenagers and young women in other states.

“I vote [Republican] policy over personality.” 

Right now—despite four years in office and four years since to formulate plans—Trump has only “concepts of a plan” on most topics other than immigration, the Ukraine war, and tariffs. For immigration, he is promising internment camps and deporting even legal, documented immigrants—and even sending Haitian immigrants “back” to Venezuela. His solution for Russia’s invasion of Ukraine is just a surrender to Putin and a departure from the shared contributions of our NATO allies. And that massive promised tariff? Financial experts—including 16 Nobel Prize-winning economists—estimate it will raise the federal deficit by $7.5 trillion, spike inflation by 300% or more, and cost Americans an average of $2,600/year. None of those sound like they would made America great, greater, or great again. And none of those would be approved by Republican statesmen like Ronald Reagan, George Bush, Bob Dole, John McCain, or Mitt Romney.

But even if Trump had a plan to lower grocery costs, bring housing inventory up to demand, humanely solve the border crisis, reduce the federal deficit, or change the reality of Americans paying twice as much for healthcare as other developed countries, are any of those worthy trades for a sense of safety for the women in our lives? I don’t know how I could look into the eyes of a girl or woman and say, “I’m sorry that dangerous men are given a permission structure for sexual violence, but I was tired of rising lunch meat prices.”

“You believe all that?”

Both political extremes tell their adherents that centrist norms can’t be trusted—that mainstream institutions have been infiltrated by nefarious agendas. Since both conservatives and liberals have turned news outlets into entertainment channels and civic dialogue into 4-against-1 panels, the temptation is to trust no headlines. But that doesn’t mean the truth can’t be determined. It just requires genuine curiosity and critical thinking skills. This post is plastered with hyperlinks instead of footnotes because I want to make it easier for people to verify my assertions.

The friend who asked this question didn’t know that my writing degree required journalism training (with a future Bush White House staff writer who stood in my wedding) or that I minored in public relations and can easily spot spin. I probably should’ve told him I listen to both liberal and conservative legal podcasts, but all I could blurt out was that what I was telling him was documented in court filings as evidence procured under the threat of perjury. I told him I was quoting Trump’s own public statements or recordings of his actual voice—such as in the Access Hollywood scandal.

Trump is telling us who he is more and more as his cognitive decline guides his sometimes slurred speech. Watch and listen to the media the 78-year-old creates in front of press pools, rally audiences, and interviewers. Read his Truth Social posts. Google the court documents. Click to a channel that didn’t settle a $787 million suit for knowingly and incessantly lying to its audience. The truth is available—if you want it.

“My daughters are safe.”

The lack of empathy in this statement saddens me. I’m glad the girls in my buddy’s life are currently in the cohort of women who have never endured an unwanted sexual encounter, but I’d love that gift to be held by more women and children. When debauched men see that the darkest temptations in their hearts can be exonerated because of what they do for a church or a political party, they see fewer negative consequences to acting on those disgusting impulses. When women see that rapists, pedophiles, and predators are excused by family, friends, and fellow parishioners, they are less inclined to report their abuse. The only way to make a dent in America’s rampant sexual assault crisis is to drag as much of it into the light as possible and to make the punishment thorough enough to be a disincentive. Making a documented sexual predator and indicted felon the commander-in-chief only thwarts future justice.

Someday, our daughters will know whether or not we chose political expediency over justice, partisanship over safety, and checking account balances over female body autonomy. Someday, our nieces will know whether or not we chose an unrepentant predator to be “the leader of the free world.” In a matter of days, our wives and girlfriends will know whether we voted with thoughtful empathy or calculated pragmatism.

My 2024 Virginia ballot includes five other candidates for United States President as well as the option to write in a candidate not listed. And all voters can make selections for other offices and leave the Presidential section blank—letting a conservative House and Senate moderate the liberal agenda my friends fear. There are other options. They just cost Christian nationalists and their enablers power.

I follow a rabbi who “laid his life down” to make wrongs right. Before his death and after his resurrection, the Messiah empowered and protected women. His words and his choices made the hurting and disenfranchised feel valued. He gave victims and outcasts hope. His biographers also documented him rejecting the temptation to rule over earthly kingdoms. So, I won’t pretend that I know who Jesus would vote for if he voted at all. But I know he doesn’t think political representation is worth more than the souls of women and children.

I wish more of the men in my faith communities felt the same.

In case you think I’m using this issue to cover Democrat partisanship, here are the candidates for whom I’ve voted for President:
1996: Steve Forbes (primary—missed general election in college)
2000: George Bush
2004: George Bush
2008: John McCain
2012: Mitt Romney
2016: Evan McMullin
2020: Jo Jorgensen

For more about Ryan, visit his blog at explorience.org.