A Diamond against the Blackest Cloth
The jeweller displays the beauty of a diamond against the blackest cloth, the contrast highlighting the clarity and purity of the stone. One recent news story which carried the darkest details was the trial of former US gymnastic team doctor Larry Nassar who used his position of respect and responsibility to prey upon vulnerable young girls. Yet against this horrific backdrop God used one of his children to display the fierce beauty of the gospel. Rachael Denhollander, first abused as a 15-year-old, went on to study law and was the first to publicly accuse Nassar of sexual assault. She and her husband Jacob are members of a Reformed Baptist church in Louisville and, with the world’s media watching, she used her victim impact statement to speak unflinchingly of the realities of good and evil, God’s coming judgment and the audacity of the Gospel.
An extract from Rachael Denhollander’s victim impact statement
“I want you [Nassar] to understand why I made this choice [to publicly accuse] knowing full well what it was going to cost to get here and with very little hope of ever succeeding. I did it because it was right. No matter the cost, it was right. And the farthest I can run from what you have become is to daily choose what is right instead of what I want.
You have become a man ruled by selfish and perverted desires, a man defined by his daily choices repeatedly to feed that selfishness and perversion. You chose to pursue your wickedness no matter what it cost others and the opposite of what you have done is for me to choose to love sacrificially, no matter what it costs me.
In our early hearings you brought your Bible into the courtroom and you have spoken of praying for forgiveness. And so it is on that basis that I appeal to you. If you have read the Bible you carry, you know the definition of sacrificial love portrayed is of God himself loving so sacrificially that he gave up everything to pay a penalty for the sin he did not commit. By his grace, I, too, choose to love this way.
You spoke of praying for forgiveness. But Larry, if you have read the Bible you carry, you know forgiveness does not come from doing good things, as if good deeds can erase what you have done. It comes from repentance which requires facing and acknowledging the truth about what you have done in all of its utter depravity and horror without mitigation, without excuse, without acting as if good deeds can erase what you have seen this courtroom today.
The Bible you carry says it is better for a stone to be thrown around your neck and you thrown into a lake than for you to make even one child stumble. And you have damaged hundreds.
The Bible you speak carries a final judgment where all of God’s wrath and eternal terror is poured out on men like you. Should you ever reach the point of truly facing what you have done, the guilt will be crushing. And that is what makes the gospel of Christ so sweet. Because it extends grace and hope and mercy where none should be found. And it will be there for you.
I pray you experience the soul crushing weight of guilt so you may someday experience true repentance and true forgiveness from God, which you need far more than forgiveness from me -- though I extend that to you as well.
Throughout this process, I have clung to a quote by C.S. Lewis, where he says, my argument against God was that the universe seems so cruel and unjust. But how did I get this idea of just, unjust? A man does not call a line crooked unless he first has some idea of straight. What was I comparing the universe to when I called it unjust?
Larry, I can call what you did evil and wicked because it was. And I know it was evil and wicked because the straight line exists. The straight line is not measured based on your perception or anyone else’s perception, and this means I can speak the truth about my abuse without minimization or mitigation. And I can call it evil because I know what goodness is. And this is why I pity you. Because when a person loses the ability to define good and evil, when they cannot define evil, they can no longer define and enjoy what is truly good.
When a person can harm another human being, especially a child, without true guilt, they have lost the ability to truly love. Larry, you have shut yourself off from every truly beautiful and good thing in this world that could have and should have brought you joy and fulfillment, and I pity you for it. You could have had everything you pretended to be. Every woman who stood up here truly loved you as an innocent child, real genuine love for you, and it did not satisfy.
I have experienced the soul satisfying joy of a marriage built on sacrificial love and safety and tenderness and care. I have experienced true intimacy in its deepest joys, and it is beautiful and sacred and glorious. And that is a joy you have cut yourself off from ever experiencing, and I pity you for it.
I have been there for young gymnasts and helped them transform from awkward little girls to graceful, beautiful, confident athletes and taken joy in their success because I wanted what was best for them. And this is a joy you have cut yourself off from forever because your desire to help was nothing more than a façade for your desire to harm.
I have lived the deep satisfaction of wrapping my small children up in my arms and making them feel safe and secure because I was safe, and this is a rich joy beyond what I can express, and you have cut yourself off from it, because you were not safe. And I pity you for that.
In losing the ability to call evil what it is without mitigation, without minimization, you have lost the ability to define and enjoy love and goodness. You have fashioned for yourself a prison that is far, far worse than any I could ever put you in, and I pity you for that.
And this is also why in many ways, your honor, the worst part of this process was each name, each number who came forward to the police with each Jane Doe, I saw my little girls and the little girls that were. The little girls who walked into Larry’s office that I could not save because no one wanted to listen. And while that is not my guilt, it is pain I still carry and pain I share with them.
I cried for them, and with every tear that fell I wondered who is going to find these little girls, who is going to tell them how much they are worth, how valuable they are, how deserving of justice and protection?
Who is going to tell these little girls that what was done to them matters? That they are seen and valued, that they are not alone and they are not unprotected? And I could not do that, but we are here now and today that message can be sent with the sentence you hand down you can communicate to all these little girls and to every predator to every little girl or young woman who is watching how much a little girl is worth.
I am asking that we leave this courtroom we leave knowing that when Larry was sexually aroused and gratified by our violation, when he enjoyed our suffering and took pleasure in our abuse, that it was evil and wrong.
I ask that you hand down a sentence that tells us that what was done to us matters, that we are known, we are worth everything, worth the greatest protection the law can offer, the greatest measure of justice available.
And to everyone who is watching, I ask that same question, how much is a little girl worth? Larry said in court that he hoped education and learning would happen from this tragedy, and I share that hope, and this is what we need to learn.”
Gymnasts, Prophets, and Us
A reflection on the Nassar trial by Rebecca Van Doodewaard first published at gentlereformation.org and republished with permission.
The Nassar trial ended today, and it was close to home. About a year ago, I was in a courtroom where a judge handed down a verdict that told everyone that little girls aren’t worth much, really. Yet in the Nassar trial itself, there is a lot to be thankful for in how this horrific situation has concluded: a life sentence, a culture that places blame and shame on the predator and not victims, and widespread support for those brave young women who stood up and faced down an abuser.
But the situation is shot through with so much failure, that this conclusion is hardly a satisfying ending. In her concluding testimony, Rachael Denhollander was eloquent in her assessment of the situation, pressing home the hollowness of dead works and the need for Christ. She was a lonely voice. So many other young women spoke, and it seemed as though they were speaking as much to themselves as to their abuser, reminding everyone of their bright futures and inner strength. Certainly, we wish them no less. They have suffered so much, and can now begin to heal.
But much of the thinking that came through in this trial is a thinking that will ultimately fail us and our daughters, leading to more situations like this.
In Micah 6:8, the prophet asks,
“…What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”
These three things— doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God—are things that are missing from the discussion around this case and other sexual abuse situations.
Justice
The failure of the US Olympic Association or Michigan State University or any other governing body to deal with Nassar is not first a failure of protocol or professionalism. It is first a failure to do justice. Careers, relationships, money, reputations, got in the way of justice, and so people chose to ignore and abuse it. It was also clear that many saw the sentence as more than justice—as a measure of revenge. But human justice cannot take revenge: it does not have the scope for that, and we do not have the moral authority to implement it. Revenge is God’s prerogative.
Kindness
In her testimony, Denhollander stated that her reason for coming forward and going public with her story was to protect other young women at risk from Nassar. She has had to publically state how she was victimized; strangers read her diaries; she spent many, many hours in courtrooms away from her family. Her sacrifice is kindness. That is laying down self for others. Kindness is not being a wimp and giving everyone their way: it is doing what is right, it is protecting others even when it means personal suffering. It’s the opposite of predation. It is ending sin even at high cost.
Humility before God
When we consciously live before God’s face, understanding our smallness and our need, any temptation to abuse another human being will die. People should be afraid to abuse little girls not because, “they will grow up into strong women who will destroy you,” but because those little girls are made in God’s image, and He will destroy. That thought should be terrifying, in the healthiest way.
As long as our culture celebrates sexual promiscuity, views pornography as inevitable, refuses to value all human life, and idolizes money and power, we will have more cases like this one. It is a scary place to live, isn’t it? In the face of these cultural norms, what are we to do? We are to teach our children, especially our daughters, their inherent worth (and maybe martial arts). We are to require accountability from every authority figure—no exceptions. We must listen to children especially when they are scared or uncomfortable or nervous. We must love our neighbors even when we don’t trust them. Most of all, we are to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God. That’s what God requires of His people. That’s what’s possible for His people because of His grace. Without Him, we’re no different from abusers like Nassar.
About the author:
Rebecca Van Doodewaard is the author of:
Uprooted: A Guide for Homesick Christians (£4.79)
Your Future ‘Other Half’: It Matters Whom You Marry (£5.00)
Reformation Women: Sixteenth-Century Figures Who Shaped Christianity’s Rebirth (£9.65)
She is also the author of the Banner Board Series, a four-volume set of books written for young children on church history figures (£5.00 each)
You can buy them at the links below …