Abuse is rarely recognized from the outside. The red flags usually become visible only when we are willing to look at the system that protects an offender. There is a useful way to make that system visible. Ask which church a predator would choose, and where such a person would feel safe, and you learn where the danger sits. This article is written from that need.
Why this question matters
It became concrete in a situation that showed how such a system works in practice. After the sexual-abuse scandal around Evert Valk, he was removed as leader of The Door in the Netherlands and replaced by Nomdo Schuitema. This was not a rumor or a misunderstanding but serious sexual abuse that had become known within the church and led to measures.
In a conversation afterward about the abuse, a former member named what he had done. The answer was telling. Pastor Valk, the former member was told, had been punished enough, and he could never return to the church. As if that were a punishment. Not being allowed back into a church is not a punishment. It is the logical consequence of serious boundary-crossing conduct, a necessary measure to protect victims and to make clear that abuse has consequences.
And yet it did not hold. After six months of “discipline,” Valk was readmitted as a member. Only after the newspaper Reformatorisch Dagblad reported the case in detail was he finally denied access. That moment made plain what this question is really about. If I were a predator, in which church would I feel safe?
The church a predator would choose
If I were a predator, a man with wrong intentions, out to exert control and to be seen as good and spiritual while in reality I was after money, sex, or power, I would choose a church with the following features.
- A church that believes in male-only leadership, so my pastor is certain to be a man and I need not take “emotional women” seriously.
- A church where sexual remarks are normal, where jokes about women’s appearance are made from the pulpit.
- A church with strict gender roles, so I can always justify my behavior and put the blame on her. Eve was guilty too, after all.
- A church with a naive pastor, someone I can easily convince that she is exaggerating, or damaged by her past.
- A church where loud talk and shouting are normal, which makes my own behavior less conspicuous.
- A church with constant calls to prayer. I sometimes hate myself for what I do, and it feels good to get support, as long as no one asks follow-up questions.
- A church that hammers on submission, forgiveness, and the sanctity of marriage without putting safety at the center.
- A church mainly concerned with appearances and respectability.
- A church that says, “We just preach the Bible,” but never its application.
- A church without professional help. I want no outsiders.
- A church that mistakes cheap forgiveness for real repentance.
- A church that does not investigate, where wrong is kept quiet.
- A church where discriminatory language is normal and no one is held to account.
- A church where everything is blamed on “the devil” and no one is held responsible.
- A church where one leader stands above everything and no one dares contradict him.
What the question reveals
That is why the question is not idle. It is a way to make visible where the problem actually lies. Whoever wants to know whether a church is safe for victims should listen not only to what is said to victims, but look at who is given protection, room, and a second chance.
Red flags rarely sit in one person. They sit in patterns, in structures, in reflexes, in what gets excused, ignored, or wrapped in spiritual language. They become visible the moment we look through the eyes of someone with wrong intentions. If it is easy for a predator to feel at home, that is the warning sign. Perhaps that is the most uncomfortable conclusion here: the question tells us less about predators than about the systems we keep in place. And as long as we refuse to face them, victims keep paying the price for those who stay silent.
