They Say “It Wasn’t Our Church” — But That Doesn’t Mean You Don’t Have a Case

When survivors of Southern Baptist–connected abuse speak up, one of the most common responses sounds deceptively simple: “That wasn’t our church.” Sometimes it’s framed as “We weren’t affiliated at the time.” Other times it’s “That pastor wasn’t under us.”

Those statements are not neutral explanations. They’re designed to end the conversation before it begins.

If you’ve heard that line, here’s what I want you to know from the start: a church or denomination’s denial of affiliation does not determine whether you have a valid civil case. Liability turns on conduct, knowledge, and choices—not on how an institution labels itself after the fact.

If you’re unsure what legal accountability can look like in these cases, it helps to start with the broader picture of Southern Baptist abuse claims and then return to this specific defense, because it’s one of the most misunderstood tactics survivors face.

Why Churches Reach for This Defense So Quickly

Southern Baptist churches generally operate under a congregational form of governance. Local churches make many of their own decisions and typically do not have bishops overseeing congregations in the way some denominations do. Local leadership usually handles hiring, supervision, and day-to-day operations rather than having denominational officials formally approve each staffing decision.

That structure often becomes the foundation for a familiar argument: “Because we’re autonomous, we aren’t responsible.”

But autonomy does not equal immunity.

Civil law does not ask whether a church fits neatly into a denominational flowchart. It asks whether people in positions of authority created risk, ignored warnings, failed to protect children, or allowed abuse to continue after concerns surfaced.

“Not Affiliated” Is Rarely the Whole Story

When churches or related entities say they were not affiliated, that claim can mean many different things, and each version raises factual questions rather than ending them.

For example:

• Was the church publicly identified as Southern Baptist through its own materials, online listings, or association or state convention records?
• Did it participate in Cooperative Program giving or other SBC-related funding?
• Did leaders attend or promote SBC-related training, conferences, or events?
• Did the church rely on denominational resources for guidance on ministry or staffing?
• Were concerns about a leader ever communicated beyond the local congregation?

These are not abstract questions. They’re evidence-driven ones. And evidence often exists even when survivors don’t have access to it yet.

If you’re thinking, “I don’t have documents,” that’s common. Survivors usually begin with memories: who was in charge, where abuse occurred, what role the person held, and what happened after concerns arose. Records, communications, and corroboration are often uncovered later through legal process.

What Courts Actually Examine in These Cases

When a church denies responsibility, courts look past public statements and focus on evidence tied to real-world behavior. Several issues consistently matter:

Who had authority over the abuser?
Authority can include the ability to assign roles, grant access to children, supervise activities, discipline misconduct, or remove someone from a position.

Who provided access?
Access is central. Who placed the person in a classroom, youth group, nursery, counseling role, or travel setting? Who continued to allow access after concerns were raised?

What did leaders know, and when?
Knowledge can come from complaints, partial disclosures, warnings framed as “rumors,” prior incidents, sudden resignations, or internal discussions that never reached authorities.

What safety practices existed in practice—not on paper?
Background checks, supervision rules, reporting procedures, and training only matter if they are actually followed. Ignored policies don’t protect children.

What happened after red flags appeared?
Silence, reassignment, quiet removal, or pressure to forgive without reporting can all become part of the factual record.

For many survivors, accountability does not always require stepping into a courtroom. There are other paths that can force truth into the open and create consequences, as explained in holding a church accountable without court.

A church’s denial may shape how a case is defended, but it does not end the inquiry.

Job Titles Don’t Erase Responsibility

Another common response is, “He wasn’t an employee.” Volunteer status, ministry titles, or contractor language often surface at this stage.

From a civil standpoint, the key issue is not the label. It’s whether the institution placed someone in a role that gave them credibility, trust, and access to children—and whether reasonable supervision existed.

If leadership ignored warning signs, failed to screen appropriately, or kept someone in a position of authority after concerns arose, liability does not disappear because of how paperwork was structured.

The Human Impact of Being Dismissed

This defense isn’t just legal positioning. It carries emotional weight.

When an institution denies connection, survivors often hear something deeper: “You’re mistaken.” “You misunderstood.” “You’re remembering it wrong.”

That response feeds shame and self-doubt, especially for people raised in faith environments where authority was rarely questioned. For many survivors, institutional denial becomes one of the reasons they stayed silent for years or decades.

I explore that pattern more fully in why survivors stay silent, because dismissal doesn’t just shut down legal claims—it reinforces the very dynamics that allowed abuse to continue.

Does Denial Actually Affect Your Case?

Denial can affect litigation strategy. It may influence which parties are named, what records are requested, and how aggressively an institution defends itself.

What it does not do is erase what happened.

Civil claims are built from testimony, documents, witness accounts, institutional practices, and patterns of behavior. If a church claims it was not affiliated, that claim becomes something tested against evidence rather than accepted at face value.

In some cases, churches downplay ties publicly while relying on denominational identity privately. In others, affiliation existed at the time of abuse and changed later. Timing matters, and facts matter more than press language.

“What If the SBC Denies Involvement?”

A denial from a broader entity does not end the analysis. It shifts it.

Relevant questions often include:

• Who recommended or credentialed the leader?
• Where did the leader come from before this role?
• Were complaints ever shared outside the local church?
• Did anyone assist with reassignment or relocation?
• Were families encouraged to stay quiet or “handle it internally”?

Many cases turn on chains of decisions rather than formal hierarchy.

“Can I Sue if the Church Says It’s Not Affiliated?”

Possibly, yes.

Local churches have independent duties to protect children and vulnerable people. Under Arkansas law, institutions may face civil liability for negligent supervision, failure to protect, failure to report, negligent hiring or retention, and related misconduct, depending on the facts of the case.

A denial of affiliation does not remove those duties.

If you worry that pursuing accountability will be framed as an attack on faith, that fear deserves to be named for what it is. Seeking accountability for preventable harm is not hostility toward belief. It’s a demand for safety and honesty.

What Parents and Survivors Can Do Early

You don’t need a perfect timeline or complete records to take protective steps.

Helpful actions often include:

• Writing down memories while they are still clear
• Saving texts, emails, letters, or messages
• Listing possible witnesses
• Avoiding direct confrontation with institutions if retaliation or pressure is a concern
• Seeking legal guidance to preserve evidence

Reporting choices are deeply personal for survivors and families. At the same time, it’s important to understand that certain professionals—including clergy (subject to limited privilege exceptions), school staff, and healthcare workers—are legally required to report suspected child maltreatment.

When You’re Still Part of the Community

For some survivors, the church involved is still part of daily life. Family relationships, friendships, and identity can feel tied to staying quiet.

If that’s where you are, you’re not weak. You’re navigating layered pressure.

I address that reality in speaking up while staying, which speaks directly to survivors who want accountability while still remaining part of a Southern Baptist community.

A Word to Parents Being Stonewalled

When institutions deflect, parents often encounter requests for silence framed as “privacy” or “unity.” Those phrases protect organizations, not children.

Your priority is your child’s safety and healing. Institutions have had countless chances to get this right. Accountability exists to stop harm from repeating.

What Justice Can Look Like

Justice takes different forms. For some, it involves civil compensation. For others, it means disclosure of records, exposure of patterns, or preventing future access to children.

Institutional denial may slow the process. It may increase resistance. None of that means the claim lacks merit.

The Truth They Avoid Saying

When you hear “It wasn’t our church,” what’s often being communicated is simpler: “We don’t want responsibility.”

Responsibility, though, is not optional when choices contribute to harm.

If you want to talk through what happened, at your pace and without pressure, I can help you understand your options. You don’t need institutional permission to seek answers. Your experience matters—even when they deny you ever belonged.