Some survivors tell me they’ve never spoken the words out loud before — not to a friend, not even to family. Abuse at the hands of a religious leader doesn’t just shatter trust — it can steal childhoods, ruin families, and leave people wrestling with questions about faith, worth, and justice.
And when institutions like churches choose silence over safety, cover-up over accountability — they become part of the abuse.
But here’s what many survivors don’t realize: you can hold them accountable. Not just the abuser, but the institution that allowed it, protected it, or looked away.
This isn’t about one bad person in one church. It’s about a pattern — repeated, hidden, and protected — inside institutions that claim moral authority.
Take the Catholic Church, for instance. Decades of documented abuse, moved priests, sealed records. The public only learned the full scale of it after survivors forced the truth into daylight.
The Southern Baptist Convention followed a similar script. Internal reports revealed leaders who failed to act, ignored credible claims, and kept lists of abusive pastors away from the public. The reckoning continues, and lawsuits are still being filed. Survivors in Arkansas and beyond are stepping forward, filing Southern Baptist Church abuse cases to expose decades of institutional failure.
Here’s the thing: these stories are not outliers. They are warnings.
And silence? It protects the wrong people.You’re not suing God. You’re holding a man-made institution accountable for choices that harmed children—and shielded those who caused it.
Yes — and you should, if the institution played a role in the abuse or in covering it up.
Some people think if the abuser is dead, or if the abuse happened years ago, it’s too late. That’s not always true. Many states, including Arkansas, have extended the time survivors have to take legal action. In some cases, the law allows you to file even decades after the abuse happened.
You’re not suing “God.” You’re not attacking faith. You’re holding a human-run institution responsible for human decisions — ones that harmed children and protected predators.
A legal claim against a religious institution is a civil lawsuit — separate from criminal charges. You don’t need the police to arrest someone first. You don’t need a guilty verdict from a court. Civil cases are about the harm you suffered and the institution’s role in allowing it to happen.
When someone sues a church for child sexual abuse, the case usually falls into one or more of these buckets:
Let’s be clear: churches often have deep pockets and powerful insurance companies. They know exactly what’s at stake. That’s why survivors need legal support that’s just as relentless.
Lawsuits shine a light on what these institutions tried to keep hidden. Documents are unearthed. Depositions are taken. The truth comes out. And that truth? It doesn’t just help the person filing the suit — it protects the next child who might otherwise be harmed.
The legal path isn’t easy — but it’s one worth walking.
We start by gathering your story. Not just what happened to you, but when, where, who knew, and what the institution did (or didn’t do) in response.
From there, we look at things like:
These patterns matter more than most people realize.
Even if you think your story won’t hold up in court — don’t decide that for yourself. Let someone who knows this work help you figure it out.
And if the institution you’re thinking of is part of a larger denomination or umbrella organization — like a national conference or governing body — we examine whether they share responsibility. Often, they do.
Let me say something plainly: no settlement or verdict can erase what happened.
But a lawsuit isn’t just about compensation — it’s about truth, validation, and control.
Survivors often tell me that filing a lawsuit was the first time they felt power shift back in their direction. For some, it’s about making sure the same church that ignored them can’t ignore them anymore. For others, it’s about leaving a paper trail behind — a warning for future generations.
I’ve seen lawsuits force institutional reform. I’ve seen churches change how they handle allegations, train leaders, and safeguard children. None of that happens without people willing to speak up.
It starts with one brave voice.
You can:
Some cases resolve through negotiated settlements. Others go to trial. The goal is not just compensation — it’s accountability for religious leaders in abuse cases.
By exposing the truth — in public. By putting a price on cover-ups. By refusing to let them write off decades of harm with a carefully worded apology and a PR campaign.
Real accountability means change. And change only happens when people stand up and demand it.
Sometimes, that’s one survivor. Sometimes, it’s hundreds. Either way, the legal system is one of the few tools powerful enough to pierce the wall these institutions build around themselves.
You don’t have to walk in cold. We’ve done this before.
Here’s how it usually works:
You’re not alone in this. And there’s no pressure. Some survivors reach out, then take months to decide. Others are ready on day one. Either way, we move at your pace — and we handle the legal battle so you can focus on healing.
If you were abused by a member of the clergy — or if you suspect someone else was — I want you to know something: the shame belongs to them, not you. You didn’t deserve what happened. And you’re not weak for carrying it in silence. You’re strong for surviving it.
But you don’t have to keep carrying it alone.
Whether your story involves a local church or a national denomination, it’s worth telling — and it’s worth acting on. If you’re ready to talk, or even just to ask questions, my door is open. The silence ends here.