The Victim Thing

This article about the V-Perspective – as I recently heard it called – is the topic of Lilie Chouliaraki’s new book Wronged: The Weaponization of Victimhood. It resonates with much of what I see in Church World and beyond.

Central to Chouliaraki’s exploration is the distinction she draws between victimhood and vulnerability. She argues that victimhood is not a condition but a claim—that you’re a victim not when something bad happens to you, but when you say, “I am wronged!”

In these days of tumultuous ecclesiastical shifts, the work of frustrated pastors and exhausted volunteers sometimes turns into victimhood. Pastors want to spend their time inspiring people, mentoring disciples of Jesus, and reaching out to people who are not currently part of our congregations. But many congregations are more invested in power games and perpetuating an institution that no longer serves God’s purposes. Volunteers are increasingly serving a church that’s closer to closing than anyone wants to admit and they are killing themselves keeping the lights on.

And so we have victims:

• Pastors who find that the church that called them is not who they said they were feel like victims. And congregants feel like victims when the pastor falls short of their expectations.

• Volunteers in congregations without pastors can feel like victims when they are picking up all the tasks that (they assume) a pastor would be doing (i.e. unlocking the doors, finding guest preachers, printing worship bulletins, and turning the AC on.) When there are one or two volunteers “doing everything” resentment often builds.

Remember when Christine Blasey Ford testified under oath before the Senate Judiciary Committee concerning an alleged assault involving Brett Kava­naugh? By the end of the hearing, he was the one many considered to be the victim. According to Chouliaraki, those of us with power and privilege can (and have) turned accusations on their heads so that we become the true victim.

Consider church leaders who commit abuses. No matter what actually happened behind closed doors, some will believe that the accuser is the victim and some will believe that the accused is the victim. It’s hard to settle these assumptions.

So . . . the point of this blog post is to invite us to consider our role in disputes in which we have been thinking to ourselves, “I’m the victim here.” Is it possible that – if consider the perspectives of others – we can agree that we are not victims at all?

Favorite example:

The longtime volunteer in a particular congregation who – for decades – has been in charge of:

• Vacation Bible School
• The Christmas Pageant
• The Easter Flowers
• The Coffee Hour
• The BBQ Fundraiser

. . . is asked as gently as possible, if they might consider trying some new ideas. Or maybe they would be willing to let a new person step in – maybe by the end of the year? Or maybe they would like to mentor another volunteer to split the responsibility this year?

These words can feel hurtful. “After all these years of helping, I’m being cast aside.” Or would it be possible to think – instead – “If it would help our church re-think the way we’ve always done something, I’m happy to let go.”

Imagine if The Victim Thing was no longer a thing – in churches, in families, in classrooms, in offices. This is a spiritual issue, I believe. Especially for those of us who consider ourselves People Of Faith, it’s not about us, right? We want to transform the world for good in the name of Jesus, right?

Right?