With the Pentagon ramping up its efforts to
root out sexual assault in the military, Army chaplains are poised to play an
important role. Finding the right voice, however, can prove difficult.
By Anna Mulrine, Staff writer / January 10, 2012
Inside a classroom at Fort Jackson in South Carolina, a group of some 40 Army chaplains are wrestling with what they just heard.
By Anna Mulrine, Staff writer / January 10, 2012
Inside a classroom at Fort Jackson in South Carolina, a group of some 40 Army chaplains are wrestling with what they just heard.
They are focused on an
overhead projection of congressional testimony from a former US Army
sergeant allegedly raped by a fellow soldier. When she sought out a military
pastor, she said the chaplain suggested the rape must have been God's will and
that she should go to church more often.
A firestorm of
discussion ensues. What chaplain could have said such a thing? How should he
have counseled her? What if a chaplain disagrees with how a victim is living
her life? What if he simply doesn't believe her?
The debate is a portrait in real time of how one of the Pentagon's most
important tools in its fight against sexual abuse – the Army chaplain program –
is learning to cope with rising reports of sexual assault as well as new
responsibilities.
Last year, an Air Force
study – the most comprehensive survey yet conducted by the military – found
that 1 in 5 female airmen says she has been sexually assaulted since joining up. The report was seen as
a key motivation behind an unprecedented push by the Pentagon to address sexual
abuse in all service branches.
Last week, three Air
Force Academy cadets in Colorado
were charged with unrelated sexual assaults on female cadets only weeks after
the academy released a report showing an increase in abuse from the previous
year.
In the effort to combat sexual abuse, chaplains are
indispensable. Fewer than 1 in 6
sexual assaults among US
troops is reported, according to estimates. For this reason, chaplains are
often the first responders. Two years ago, Army chaplains became bound
by confidentiality for the first time (other service chaplains have long been
bound by it), expanding the scope of their ministry to the sexually abused.
This new privilege is a rare benefit in a workplace where
soldiers not only work, eat, and sleep in close proximity, but also where even
the most trivial of infractions can quickly become matters for high command.
But confidentiality has also created new challenges for the chaplain corps – as
has the Pentagon's new focus on rooting out sexual abuse.
Here at the Army chaplain school at Fort Jackson, military
pastors are wrestling with those changes in their work. In the case of sexual
assault, "chaplains need to know what the procedures are and how to
provide not only the correct response within the Army, but also, because we're
chaplains, how to provide for the emotional and spiritual needs of that
individual as well," says Col. David Smartt, commandant of the school.
The
congressional testimony of the Army sergeant is a teachable moment. The
instructor, Lt. Col. Carl Rosenberg, asks the class what they think of the
chaplain's words. Some doubt the victim's claim; others are outraged. "It
frustrates me, sir," says one chaplain. "I'd say the chaplain's
response is – I wouldn't say equally traumatic, but now you have two traumas
instead of one."
Rosenberg later seizes on that theme. "I hope and pray for
you, that you will take this seriously so as to develop care practices that
will not retraumatize victims," Rosenberg says. "Let's use this time
to develop our skills as a corps."
This is a serious issue for chaplains. They are not sexual-abuse
counselors. And as followers of different faith traditions, they bring their
own values to the cases that come to them.
What if, one chaplain asks, a soldier who has had an abortion as
a result of a rape asks for guidance? "I would feel for that person, but
I'm not going to ... say it's OK."
Indeed, the clash of conscience with compassion can chill the
effectiveness of chaplains in dealing with sexual abuse. Army Sgt. Andrea
Neutzling, who says she was raped by two fellow soldiers during a year-long
deployment to Iraq in 2005, says
her experience with a chaplain compounded her feelings of isolation and
sadness.
The chaplain seemed to cast aspersions on her by saying she
didn't act like a rape victim. And when she felt most vulnerable, he
recommended that Neutzling's rifle be taken away after she joked to him that
she wouldn't mind maiming her attackers.
"I'll admit, because of him I kind of lost respect for
chaplains," she says.
One chaplain wonders if there are circumstances when a pastor
should request a release from the sexual-assault victim to speak to the
commander. "I'm reluctant to tell a commander that kind of
information," Rosenberg says. Another chaplain agrees. "Regardless of
it being a closed investigation – it's not. Someone else always finds
out."
Also difficult is when chaplains must counsel perpetrators as
well as victims. "That's one of the more difficult juggling acts,"
says Maj. Harold Cline, course manager for the Chaplain Basic Officer Leader
Course at Fort Jackson.
The bottom line, the chaplains agree, is striving for care that
helps to heal, rather than further injure victims. Toward the end of the class,
Rosenberg turns the discussion back to the chaplain in the congressional
testimony.
"That chaplain was a bonehead," he said. "It is
not God's will for someone to be raped. It's not. And anyone who wants to argue
theologically on that, I'm glad to do it right now."
The point is to "offer a space that feels safe. It's not
our responsibility to be the investigators," says Rosenberg. "Suspend
judgment, and trust that this person is speaking their truth to us."
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