With a $50,000 grant from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services Office of Community Affairs - one of six in the nation and the only one that involves a divinity school, Jones is raising clergy awareness about domestic and sexual violence.

"As the only seminary offering this training to all divinity students, Duke has an opportunity to be a leader in the field," said Jones. In addition to offering a workshop for graduating seniors this spring, Jones trained all divinity students before they began summer field education placements.

Nearly 40 percent of the 200 women and children who typically spend time in the Durham shelter during any given year identify themselves as women of faith and ask for pastoral care during their stay. In response, all DCRC staff are being trained to identify and respond to clients' religious issues and needs. Volunteers will be trained to offer on-going pastoral care to residents of the shelter.

Durham's domestic and sexual violence is not unique. Nor is the possibility of a deadly outcome. According to the N.C. Council Against Domestic Violence's Web site, 53 North Carolina women were killed by domestic violence between Jan. 13 and Oct. 15, 2002.

A Human Issue

"I don't feel domestic violence is a women's issue," said Jones, whose interest in the field began with a high school reading assignment. "It's a human issue."

A religion major at Wake Forest University, Jones was a founder of the Women's Issues Network, which sponsored programs on diverse topics including childbirth options, date rape, and automotive repair. When friends found it hard reconcile her feminism with Christianity, Jones was baffled. "It made sense to me," she said. "I didn't understand why it didn't to everyone else."

A professor of religion at Wake Forest helped her put it in perspective when he told her she'd most likely deal with this question all her life. "That gave me the faith to continue," she said. "I knew then that I was going to be working with Christianity and women's rights," she said. A seminary transfer student from Princeton, Jones earned her master of divinity degree in 2000. Her first job was at Rape Crisis of Durham, where she provided support advocacy for women and men who had experienced sexual violence.

Mid-way through a 10-week support group, Jones learned that five of the women, each of whom had been sexually abused by relatives as children, wanted to talk about faith. Although they came from different mainline denominations - including Baptist, Episcopal and Catholic - Jones discovered a surprising similarity in their theological responses to the abuse.

"They all felt that they were going to hell because of it," she said. "I had read about this kind of guilt response, but I had never really had it articulated so clearly and intensely. I couldn't believe that it was coming from women who were not from fundamentalist backgrounds. Why did they feel they would be held accountable forever for something that was perpetrated on them? I was speechless."

Most of the women, who ranged from early 20s to middle age, were trying to process their childhood abuse in therapy. Each had continued to worship and felt a deep sense of God's presence, but most felt reluctant to talk about the abuse with a pastor.

Their reasons included fears they would not be believed or would be blamed, lack of trust that their confidence would be maintained, and the absence of an invitation to share a history of abuse. "If a pastor hasn't extended an invitation by making clear that he or she is a safe person to talk with, most people aren't going to take that risk," said Jones.

Her work with this group of survivors - who have agreed to share their stories and artwork through her workshops - makes clear that no faith group is immune to sexual/domestic violence.

The public scandal surrounding sexual abuse by priests vilified the Catholic Church, leaving some convinced that the behavior was an aberration linked to celibacy or homosexuality. This logic is wrong on several counts, says Jones.

"First, this isn't so much about sex as about power and control. Many priests would deny that they had violated their vows of celibacy because they do not understand this behavior as a sex act," said Jones. "Second, the reality is that most people who sexually abuse children are married and have children of their own." In 1998, the Journal of the American Medical Association reported a study in which 98 percent of males who raped boys said that they were heterosexual.

"Also, this is happening outside the Catholic Church," said Jones. "I've worked with three women who were sexually abused by someone in their church and none were Catholic."

Dealing with victims' sense of guilt and shame and how those responses intersect with their faith is critical to healing, said Jones. In several cases, the abuser was greatly respected and admired within the church.

"I couldn't tell anyone until after he died," said one young woman, who was abused as a child by her grandfather. "He was so liked in the church. Everyone said what a wonderful person he was. I knew they wouldn't believe me."

The tendency to make forgiveness synonymous with "just forget it" is a problem for many in the church, said Jones. "Forgiveness is not forgetting. It's the last step in a healing process. It comes when there is a sense of justice."

Even when pastors put forth an invitation, ministry with those suffering domestic violence "can be incredibly frustrating" said Jones. On average, women return to abusive relationships seven times before finally ending them. The reasons are varied and complex, but include economic and emotional dependence; isolation from family, friends or other support; and the knowledge that women are usually at greatest risk after leaving an abuser.

From Theory to Action

When a local United Methodist pastor called Jones recently, the Offering Sanctuary training moved rapidly from theory to action.

The pastor, who attended Jones' workshop at Duke Divinity School, was talking with a woman in her congregation whose husband had become abusive.

"When she walked in and said, 'I can't go home tonight' I knew what she was telling me," said the pastor, who asked not to be identified to protect the privacy of those involved. "I knew enough not to suggest that she and her husband come in so we could all talk about their differences. As I was thinking 'who do I call', Meredith's face came to me."

When the pastor offered to contact Jones, the woman agreed. Within hours, she and her children had a safe place to spend the night, and she had begun the process of seeking a restraining order against her husband.

"She made the decision to seek a protective order and feels good about that," said the pastor. "She felt strong support within the church without other people even knowing. Because the woman's husband is also a member of the congregation, the senior pastor communicated with him.

"I feel a strong call from God to make the church aware of the reality of sexual and domestic abuse," she said. "Too many folks tell me it can't happen in the church. And I say, 'yes, it can.' In our congregation of around 400 people I think eight have come forward and told me that they have experienced abuse at some point in their lives, and every story is different. I think the best way to change that attitude is to keep saying, 'It happens.' I just wish more clergy could take this workshop."

According to the Rev. Mary Jane Wilson-Parsons, who is coordinator of sexual ethics concerns for the N.C. Conference of the United Methodist Church, pastors must be especially clear about boundaries when dealing with domestic abuse. While a pastor may feel rage at the abuser and fear for the victim and her children's safety, it's critical to keep feelings in check. "It's okay to verbalize your anger and concern, but don't let it become the focus.

"Taking a victim into one's home, for instance, breaks appropriate boundaries and can endanger both the pastor and victim. The Good Samaritan made provisions for the stranger's care, but not in his own home."

* Formerly Rape Crisis of Durham and Arise: The Durham Coalition for Domestic Violence Services

Written by Elizabeth Stagg.