Dear Mack,
Every Sunday my pastor has another sermon about LGBTQ people, the “trans agenda,” or those “evil Democrats.” But somehow, never once do they preach about domestic violence, sexual assault, child abuse, or any sin that might hit too close to home. Why is it easier to scream about rainbow flags than to whisper about broken families? And is it true Kansas doesn’t even make ministers report abuse?
Signed,
Wondering in the Back Row
Dear Wondering,
You’ve just described what I call Sanctified Selective Outrage™. It’s the church equivalent of yelling at kids to get off your lawn while your own roof is on fire.
See, it’s easy to spend 45 minutes railing against “the gays,” “the trans,” or “those liberals destroying America.” That’s low-hanging fruit. Nobody in the room has to get uncomfortable—unless, of course, there’s a closeted kid in the youth group silently wishing the sermon was about love instead of damnation. But talking about domestic violence? That would mean acknowledging Brother Joe might not be so holy when the doors are closed. Preaching on child abuse? That would mean shining a flashlight under the pews and scaring off more than a few cockroaches.
And yes—you’ve got it right about Kansas. Ministers are not legally required to be mandatory reporters. Teachers have to call it in. Nurses have to call it in. Daycare workers, even janitors, have to call it in. But your pastor? Nope. He can know a child is being harmed and, legally speaking, doesn’t have to do a thing. Let that sink in next time he’s lecturing about “family values.”
Want more? Churches aren’t even legally required to background check the people working with kids. And here’s the kicker: even the Assemblies of God—the second largest Pentecostal denomination in the U.S.—doesn’t require its churches to run background checks on children’s workers. So Sister So-and-So may be singing “Jesus Loves the Little Children” in Sunday School without anyone ever knowing what’s in her past.
But don’t worry, they’ll make sure to preach an entire series on “the dangers of TikTok.”
This is what happens when sermons are safer aimed at the outside world than at the sins rotting inside the sanctuary. If pastors actually preached on domestic violence, sexual assault, or child protection, they might hit a little too close to their biggest tithers—or maybe even their own staff. It’s not just hypocrisy; it’s willful blindness dressed up in a suit and tie.
So the next time Pastor gets red in the face over “drag queen story hour,” maybe lean over and ask, “Hey, when’s the sermon on not beating your wife coming up? How about the series on protecting kids?” Watch how quickly that sermon outline goes back in the drawer.
Until then, keep your Bible open, your eyes sharper, and remember: silence in the pews is sometimes the loudest indictment of all.
Amen and Ouch,
Mack
