Contributed by Charlotte Cummings
My name is Charlotte Cummings. Counsellor of 20 years. Licensed Private Investigator. PhD Candidate. Christian.
I have worked extensively in the area of church harm. Across denominations. In some cases, the harm was recent, in some cases it was kept secret for 70 years.
I was commissioned by Arise Church in 2022 to lead an independent review, following serious allegations that came via an annoying journalist. At times, that leads to people in a room standing up and clapping. At other times, it’s led to people being hired to make a dossier of dirt on me, calling me a lesbian (only by people who think that’s offensive), and saying they’ll make sure that I never work in New Zealand again and lose my house.
I am often asked for comment about churches. And I have been hesitant.
I’ve hung out on the edges. Kept doing the work.
I am choosing to speak now because I’m getting annoyed. Annoyed that the church of New Zealand has not yet learnt WHAT PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN HURT BY A CHURCH ACTUALLY WANT.
What People Actually Want
When people ask me what best practice looks like when churches harm people, I notice they often reach for two words: apology and redress. And on the surface, that makes sense. Those are the things people know to ask for, because they are the things they know (might) exist.
But I’ve sat with a lot of people. People who have been harmed in church contexts in ways that go far beyond hurt feelings or offense taken. I mean covered-up child sex offenders. Pregnancies as a result of rape and sexual abuse. Pastors and church leaders who knew what was happening to families and children and did nothing. Financial manipulation. And the deeply complex injury of having your faith turned into a weapon against you, where things were done in the name of God that served the institution and gutted the person.
Having been in the weeds with people carrying that kind of harm, I have a different view of what they actually want most.
It’s accountability.
They want to know that what happened to them will not happen to someone else. That their decision to speak up, often at enormous personal cost, often in a way that was retraumatising and terrifying, meant something. That their voice could be used for good. That it could protect someone. That what happened to them will not happen to someone else.
An apology is nice – sometimes meaningful, often not. Redress helps, practically. But power that was taken away from a person can be restored by knowing that their speaking up has created change that will shield others.
I don’t mean the “we are going to do things, and we will be better”. I mean detailed reporting back to them about what you have done, and the mechanisms put in place to prevent this happening again.
We have a very low bar in New Zealand when it comes to churches meeting that standard. And I think we need to say that clearly.
First, Do No Harm
There is a principle in medicine: first, do no harm. It exists because the institution of medicine is in the business of helping people. And when you are in the business of helping people, you are required to hold that standard before everything else.
Churches exist, at least in theory, for the same purpose. To make people’s lives better. To offer community, meaning, and for many, the hope of something eternal. That is a significant claim to make. And it carries a significant responsibility.
First, do no harm.
And when you do cause harm, you cannot genuinely move forward, in right relationship with your community, or I would suggest in right relationship with God, until you have properly reckoned with it. Apology without accountability is not reckoning. It is performance.
What the Royal Commission Taught Us
I have enormous respect for the work of the Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care. What it did, among many things, was help us understand not just what happened, but why it was allowed to happen. The structural conditions that created environments where harm could occur and be concealed. Racism. Homophobia. Patriarchy. Power. Authority.
Every person who gave evidence to that process was courageous. And what they gave us was a map. A map of how institutions fail, and what needs to change so they stop failing in the same ways.
The question now is whether churches in New Zealand are willing to read that map. Yes, apology. Yes, redress where possible. And I would suggest, accountability.
What a Safe Church Actually Looks Like
As an aside, I’m asked this question often: what does a safe church look like?
Here is my answer.
Financial transparency that goes beyond the legal minimum. Yes, registered charities have publicly available accounts. But being able to look up a high-level summary on the Charities Commission website is not the same as a church being genuinely accountable to its people. The people who give their money regularly to a church are, in effect, its shareholders. They deserve to know how that money is used. How much goes on staffing. What the policies are around expenditure. Whether the financial choices of the organisation actually reflect the values it claims to hold, including things like justice, and giving a cup of water to those who thirst.
Transparent decision-making. Who gets to make decisions, and how, is one of the clearest reflections of how power is held. If decision-making is opaque, centralised, or unquestionable, that is not a green flag.
A clear, accessible process for raising concerns. Not just for when something has gone seriously wrong. But for when someone has noticed a dynamic that makes them uncomfortable. A pattern that concerns them. Something that needs watching. We know from the Royal Commission that these early signals, when there are no safe channels to raise them through, are precisely the precursors to harm. There should also be options within that process to access support from people outside the church itself.
A code of conduct for those who have power. This should not be a radical suggestion. It is basic. Clear standards to make sure that how people are treated is actually Christian.
Governance that is independent of senior leadership. This one matters a great deal. When the people at the top of a church’s public leadership are also the people on the governance board, there is an enmeshment of power that makes genuine accountability almost impossible. A governance board cannot lead robustly when it is staffed by the people it is supposed to hold to account. Senior leaders and staff should not sit on the governance board. This is not a novel idea in any other sector.
Belonging being unconditional. You don’t have to be good enough. Cool enough. Give enough. You should be able to belong, without cost. You should be able to say no. To say you disagree with some things and still belong. Marginalised groups should be treated well – no business class, premium and economy.
What Accountability Actually Looks Like
If the narrative a church is offering is “we have learned, and we have changed,” but there is no accountability back to the people who were hurt, there is still work to be done.
This is not actually that hard. It requires honesty. It requires sitting with the discomfort of having caused harm. It requires prioritising the people who were hurt over the reputation of the institution. And it requires understanding that doing so is not a threat to the church. When things go right for people who have been hurt, they tend to go right for the church too.
I am a person with an unshakeable faith in God. I like church community, most of the time. I am not speaking from a place of opposition to the church. I am speaking from a place of wanting the church in New Zealand to be better. I believe it can be.
People will sometimes frame those who speak publicly about church harm as being anti-church, or anti-Jesus. I think that is an oversimplification, and often a deflection. You can love the church and still require it to be accountable. In fact, I would argue that loving the church requires it.
To Anyone Carrying This
If you are sitting with your own experience of being harmed in a church context, I want you to know: you did not deserve it. It was not your fault. And there are people who care deeply about you. I would suggest that includes the God in whose name you may have been hurt. Please don’t suffer alone.
