This Isn’t About Attacking the Church. It’s About Accountability and Healing.

As an attorney who represents survivors of childhood sexual abuse—including those from Southern Baptist churches right here in Arkansas—I’ve sat across from people wrestling with a brutal internal conflict.

They’re not just deciding whether to file a lawsuit. They’re confronting something far more personal:

“Would taking legal action mean turning my back on God?”
“If I sue the church, am I betraying my community?”
“Can I still believe and still want justice?”

If you’ve asked yourself those questions, you’re not alone. And you’re not wrong for asking.

What I want every survivor to know—especially those still connected to their faith—is this: holding the church accountable isn’t an attack on your beliefs. It’s a step toward healing. It’s an act of protection—not only for yourself, but for others who may still be at risk.

When abuse happens in a place that was supposed to be sacred, justice isn’t vengeance. It’s a return to truth.

Legal Action and Faith Aren’t Opposites

Many of the survivors I work with were raised to believe that bringing conflict into the open was “un-Christian.” They were told to forgive and move on. To pray instead of speak. To protect the church’s image, even if it cost them their own peace.

But let’s be clear: silence isn’t holy. It’s harmful.

Seeking accountability doesn’t mean abandoning your beliefs. If anything, it often affirms them. Scripture doesn’t call for blind loyalty to institutions—it calls for protecting the vulnerable, telling the truth, and standing against injustice.

So no, it’s not wrong to sue the church. What’s wrong is asking survivors to carry someone else’s sin in silence. What’s wrong is protecting an institution at the expense of the people it was supposed to serve.

When we take on Southern Baptist sexual abuse cases, we approach each one with care, discretion, and deep respect for how intertwined faith and trauma can be. You don’t have to choose between justice and belief. You’re allowed to want both.

This Isn’t About Destroying the Church—It’s About Saving Lives

The most heartbreaking thing I hear from survivors is this: “I don’t want to hurt the church.”

But here’s the truth: survivors aren’t hurting the church. Abusers did that. And the leaders who protected them did that. You didn’t break the church by being abused, and you won’t break it by speaking up.

In the Southern Baptist Convention, abuse has flourished under the radar for decades. Because each church is “autonomous,” SBC leadership has often deflected responsibility. That autonomy has been used to dodge accountability, silence victims, and keep reputations intact—even as children were being harmed.

You’re not attacking the church when you file a lawsuit. You’re defending the next child who walks through its doors. You’re preventing the next cover-up. You’re refusing to let someone else carry the burden that was unfairly placed on you.

And speaking up about abuse in a Southern Baptist church doesn’t make you the problem—it makes you part of the solution.

What If You Still Believe?

Let’s talk about something that keeps a lot of people frozen in place: the fear of being seen as disloyal to God.

I’ve represented clients who still go to church every Sunday. Clients who pray before court dates. Clients who didn’t stop believing—they just stopped accepting the lie that faith requires silence.

Your beliefs don’t make you weak. They’re often the very thing that gave you the strength to survive.

If you still believe in God, you’re not alone. Plenty of my clients do, too. They’re not suing because they lost faith. They’re suing because they believe in truth. Because they believe God sees what was done to them. Because they’re done confusing forgiveness with silence.

Legal action isn’t a rejection of your beliefs. It can be a way of honoring them.

You Can Still Have a Case—Even If It Wasn’t “Your Church”

One of the most common tactics we see from churches facing allegations is deflection.

“That wasn’t technically our pastor.”
“It happened off church grounds.”
“He was just a volunteer, not staff.”

These excuses are designed to confuse survivors into thinking they don’t have a case. But in many instances, they do.

Churches may still be legally responsible if they:

• Allowed a known offender to work around children
• Failed to run proper background checks
• Ignored red flags or past accusations
• Sent offenders to other churches without warning
• Dismissed allegations without investigation

So even if leadership says, “That wasn’t our church,” don’t assume you’re out of options. That doesn’t mean you don’t have a case.

We know how these systems work. We know the patterns. And we know how to follow the paper trail churches try to hide.

Justice as a Tool for Healing

Lawsuits can’t erase trauma. They can’t undo the abuse or take back the years lost to shame, fear, or silence.

But they can shift the weight.

For many survivors, filing a claim marks the first time someone looks them in the eye and says: “I believe you. You matter. And what happened to you was not your fault.”

That moment can be transformational. I’ve seen survivors who could barely say the word “abuse” start to take back their voice. I’ve seen people walk into my office carrying decades of silence and walk out, for the first time, feeling like they aren’t alone.

Healing doesn’t look the same for everyone. But legal action can be part of it—especially when it’s done in a way that centers your dignity, your voice, and your safety.

Why Now Matters—Even If It Happened Years Ago

Many survivors wait years—sometimes decades—before coming forward. That delay is not weakness. It’s survival.

If you’re just now starting to process what happened, you’re not late. You’re right on time. Trauma has its own clock.

In Arkansas, there are legal pathways available for older cases, especially those involving childhood sexual abuse. Depending on your situation, we may be able to:

• File a civil lawsuit against the church or institution
• Request documents or records through legal discovery
• Connect your case to others involving the same offender
• Pursue a confidential settlement without public exposure

You don’t have to remember every detail. You don’t have to have documentation in hand. That’s our job—to investigate, to advocate, and to protect your rights.

This Isn’t About the Headlines—It’s About Your Healing

You may have seen national stories about SBC abuse cases. Grand reports. Leaked databases. Apologies from the stage.

But what matters most isn’t what happens on TV. It’s what happens inside you.
Your story matters—even if no one else knows it yet.
Your pain matters—even if you never told a soul.
And your right to justice doesn’t expire just because a church failed you.

I know that contacting a lawyer can feel overwhelming. Cold. Legalistic. But our work is rooted in compassion, not paperwork. We’re here to listen before we speak. To understand before we act. To support without pressure.

You deserve representation that sees you as a whole person—not just a legal case.

You’re Not Alone—And You Never Were

There are survivors reading this right now who are where you are. Quietly researching. Clicking away. Coming back later. That, too, is part of the process.

Some of them will reach out. Some won’t. But each of them deserves to know this: You’re not crazy. You’re not overreacting. And you’re not alone.

If you’re still holding your story in silence, you don’t have to anymore. And if you’re still asking whether it’s okay to want justice, I promise you—it is.

This isn’t about attacking the church.
It’s about saying: No more secrets. No more shame. No more stolen childhoods.

This is about accountability.
This is about protection.
And for many—it’s about healing.