First and foremost, I want to thank you for the abundant encouragement and support I’ve received after publishing my, Open Letter to the Orthodox Presbyterian Church (OPC) Regarding Abuse. On Saturday alone, I received over 50 private messages, in addition to numerous public comments on my website, Facebook, and Twitter. Today, more communications are pouring in. I plan to respond to you all, but it will take me some time, so please me patient with me, and pray for my wisdom and peace.
Of particular note, I want to thank OPC pastors Andrew Moody, Mika Edmonson, Bill Shishko, Joe Troutman, and Andy Webb for their kindness in reaching out to me both publicly and in private.
While the feedback I’ve received has been overwhelmingly positive, I do want to clarify a few misunderstandings, as well as add some important details. I also would like to encourage anyone with questions to contact me directly. I want to know when I’ve been unclear. If anything I say is confusing or needs further explanation, please reach out. I desire understanding and peace.
Yesterday, I had a phone conference with Todd Bordow, my elder Drew Barnes, and my husband, Jason Greenberg. Todd and Drew have assured us that the session of Cornerstone OPC wants to work with me to address abuse in the church.
OPC Pastor Adam York
To be clear, I am not changing my story, but adding to it. Everything I said in my article, Predestined to Survive Abuse in the OPC, is true. I’d like to tell you more about Adam, in order to give you a fuller account of his situation at the time.
I was a young teenager when I first met Adam. I remember thinking him kind, humble, bright, and intelligent. When he was called to pastor our fledging church in Kingwood, I was thrilled.
When I was about 16, I decided to take my chances, and confide in him. It was a major leap of faith, especially given my previous attempt, speaking with Gary Davenport. However, my dad’s violence had recently escalated, and I was afraid he would murder me or one of my little sisters.
I hoped that maybe, if I told Adam what was going on, he’d take me back to his house where I’d be safe. I thought maybe he and the session would arrange to have me stay with friends. And I thought they’d contact law enforcement to protect my mom and sisters. Instead, he did nothing.
So, I told Adam, “My dad threw an iron at my head. I ducked just in time, but it hit the wall behind my head, and dented the wall.”
Instead of helping me, Adam told me that we should pray for my dad. Then he took me back home, and my sisters and I endured 5 more years of domestic violence, sexual abuse, and psychological abuse while we attended Providence OPC in Kingwood, Texas. To my knowledge, Adam never told anyone what I’d said, nor did he inform law enforcement. While I still lived with my dad, he never checked in on me, or asked whether the abuse continued.
Adam’s failure to intervene cost me and my sisters dearly. But I also realize that Adam was in his very first year of ministry right out of seminary, dealing almost immediately with a complicated abuse case.
I remember the rage of my father when Adam informed him that he could not be an elder in our church. My dad claimed Adam said he wasn’t the right personality type, but it’s hard to know when my dad is telling the truth. I remember fearing my dad had lost his chance at eldership because of what I’d told Adam, and that my dad might find out what I’d done. Looking back, I am thankful he didn’t let my dad become an elder.
Fast forward a few years later; I was married and Jason and I returned to Adam’s church. My mom had also reported my dad to the church and was going through an ugly drawn out divorce. Now, Adam believed my abuse stories. He tried to counsel me, but I had severe PTSD. For his part, Adam was my only supporter in the church.
Around this time, Adam York put my dad under church discipline. As young and inexperienced as he was, and as isolated as the Kingwood church plant was 15 years ago, he did the right thing and made a decisive statement that he would not tolerate abuse. My dad left the OPC. The wolf was thrown from the flock. Adam was also supportive that my mom should divorce my dad, and he encouraged her to protect herself and her children, even though he was OPC in Kingwood, and she was PCA in Dallas.
The Presbytery of the Southwest
I have recently learned that the OPC Presbytery of the Southwest has called the authorities on Gary Davenport, and they have set up meetings with Gary’s current church oversight to warn them.
Though they cancelled a recent meeting to address abuse, I am relieved to learn that they’re planning another meeting in the near future. I look forward to working with them to equip our leadership in recognizing abuse in both the home and the church, from the perspective of someone who has experienced both personally. This does not take away my concerns with the Presbytery, or the OPC, but I am beginning to hear from more and more pastors, and see a growing desire to address this topic honestly. Please, thank God with me for this. It feels like rain after a drought for me.
Finding My Voice
For 20 years, I have waited for good men to take action; for righteousness to prevail. I told my stories to pastors, hoping they’d take action to institute change, or at least approach at-fault leaders to ask them to apologize and reconcile with me. That never happened, and that is unfortunate. I am eager to do my best to help the OPC change, and will continue to speak up whenever I can. I know none of these problems are unique to my denomination, but that is the one I was in when I was abused, and as I have stated before publicly, I still love the OPC. I have many godly brothers who are OPC pastors and elders. That is why I want to work from the inside to help it and change this aspect of it.
My prayer is that the OPC becomes better equipped to identify and reject the wolves and will stand with me against those who perpetuate or tolerate abuse. I desire to be submissive to my session in all of this, and ultimately to Jesus Christ. I am grateful for their guidance and wisdom, and thankful I’m not alone as I call out this evil.
Glen Clary and Andrew Moody, among other OPC pastors and elders, are working behind the scenes to equip churches to better handle abuse. When the meeting we were planning was canceled, I was only told it was because Gary Davenport is in another denomination now, and that his new church would hopefully address the situation. My hope – something which I had not felt in so long, and which had been building up for weeks in anticipation of that meeting – came crashing down.
You know how, when you have a cut in your mouth, and you bite it again, it hurts even worse than the first time? And every time after that, it hurts a little worse? Injured hope is like that too. And that’s when I decided to go public. It was a last-ditch effort to get anyone to listen, even if I had to sacrifice my friendships in the OPC to do it. I was afraid the issue was slipping back into the shadows. I have since learned, that these men are still planning a meeting, but they’re waiting for the COVID-19 shutdown to lift, so we can all meet in person, and not be separated behind screens. It is my dearest wish that these plans continue, and this meeting take place. Please, support these pastors in their efforts. What they’re doing means more to me than words can express.
Some have said they feel I’m attacking the OPC. That is far from my intention. If a drowning person grasps out for help, they are not attacking you. They desperately need you. I desperately need you. Some have asked if I’m leaving the church. But I love the OPC, and I particularly love Cornerstone. However, what has happened to me over the decades must never be allowed to happen to another child in our denomination. We are better than this. Our kids deserve better than this. If I did not use my experience to protect our children, what kind of a person would I be? What kind of parent? Not a good one. I am emotional and I am distressed, yes. I’ve slept 2 hours in the past 24. So, please do not think I’m am venting for revenge or lashing out because it feels good. This is extremely difficult for me. But I am determined to do what I believe God wants, regardless of how painful it is, or how it might look to those who can’t understand.
I am not rescinding my original letter; however, I will be adding to it. Due to the nature of this medium, I had to leave out a great amount of history, personal insights, and other factors that matter deeply for context. My Open Letter is around six pages long. It could have been 60,000 words, but fearing that no one would read anything longer, I crammed my most urgent fears, pains, anxieties, and entreaties into as short an article as I could manage. It is a call to action. A desperate plea. It should not be interpreted as a detailed history, let alone a deposition. It’s a love letter, albeit, a heartbroken and panicked one.
What I have given you is an overview. A snapshot of my life from 30,000 feet. Now I want to take you down closer to the ground, so I can sculpt out the landscape, explain the chemistry, flesh out the personalities, and expose dangerous theologies. In doing so, my prayer is to help you see what I see. I aspire to equip you to better protect our children, so no one is ever placed in Adam’s position again. I aspire to make the OPC unsafe for abusers. My education in this area has been extremely costly, so please be patient with me as I wrestle through my anxieties.
With the help of Todd Bordow and my church session, I will be publishing a series of letters to shed light on the truth and expose abusive patterns. My list so far (which I may adapt as I go along) includes:
An Open Letter to the Orthodox Presbyterian Church (OPC):
- I: Regarding Abuse
- II: Regarding Good Men
- III: Regarding Bear-Bait Theology – how to not attract abusers to your church
- IV: Regarding Wounded Sheep – how to respond to stories of abuse
I will be the first to tell you that I come from a perspective of severe distrust, fear, and sorrow. I have nearly lost hope, and I confess that I expect to be abandoned. This expectation of rejection and disbelief makes it difficult for me to reach out optimistically. It is not that I don’t want to trust. It’s that I’ve already trusted so many times, and I feel all my trust has been bled out of me. Where I used to feel hope, I have this gaping wound. Where I’ve always wanted to serve the OPC, I feel shredded and disregarded. But we can change that. God has healed me from worse things, and he will heal me again.
I do not wish to harm the OPC, but I have been grievously harmed within it. I fear that to apologize for my grief could imply to other survivors that they should not express their own grief, so I cannot do that. Rather, I beg you to be patient with me. Try to see the world and our denomination through my eyes. I want it to be my home, but I also want it to be safe. I don’t want what happened to me to happen to any of our kids. Perhaps, if we work together, I can help you understand me. Then maybe, when you encounter another victim, you’ll be able to spare them from the harm I’ve experienced.
Thank you for reading.
Photo Credit: Laughlin Photography; Jason Greenberg, Adam York, Jennifer Greenberg