It Wasn’t an Affair or Romance: Understanding Power, Consent, and Coercion in Clergy Sexual Abuse

What does it mean to “consent” when the person who holds your trust, your secrets, and your spiritual wellbeing is also the person who harms you?

This question lies at the heart of understanding clergy sexual abuse—whether the survivor was a child, adolescent, or adult. In too many faith communities, sexual misconduct by clergy has been described as a relationship or an affair. This framing erases the reality of power, manipulation, and trauma. It subtly shifts blame to the survivor, obscuring what actually occurred: a violation of trust and an abuse of authority.

Research and survivor testimony alike make it clear—when sexual behaviour occurs within a pastoral or counselling relationship, consent is not possible. The imbalance of power, combined with the spiritual weight of the relationship, removes the conditions required for free and informed choice.

This post explores how coercion operates in clergy sexual abuse, why “consent” is a misleading concept in such contexts, and how reframing the language we use can change both the survivor’s healing journey and institutional accountability.

The Illusion of Consent

Adult survivors of clergy sexual abuse often describe entering the relationship believing it to be mutual—only to realise later that what they perceived as connection was, in fact, manipulation. Perpetrators frequently blur professional and personal boundaries, presenting emotional or spiritual intimacy as signs of divine connection or “special” trust.

Psychologist Jennifer Freyd’s theory of betrayal trauma (1996) helps explain why victims may comply or appear to participate. When a person depends on a trusted figure for emotional, spiritual, or community support, acknowledging betrayal threatens their entire framework of safety. Compliance, in this context, becomes a survival strategy. It allows the individual to maintain some sense of connection while their nervous system is flooded with fear, confusion, and shame.

Clergy perpetrators often capitalise on this vulnerability. They may say things like, “This is something God wants,” or “You’re helping me with my struggles.” These messages intertwine faith, obligation, and guilt in ways that are profoundly coercive. In many cases, the abuse begins not with physical acts but with emotional grooming—confiding personal struggles, creating dependency, or positioning the survivor as a “chosen” confidant.

When these relationships later turn sexual, the survivor may not recognise it as abuse at first. Especially within hierarchical or tightly knit faith communities, spiritual manipulation can feel indistinguishable from care.

What Power Looks Like in a Pastoral Relationship

Clergy are often seen as moral authorities, spiritual guides, and caretakers of people’s inner worlds. That influence carries enormous power—psychological, emotional, and social. It is reinforced by communal reverence, theological language, and the assumption that clergy act in the best interests of others.

Power in pastoral contexts includes:

• Spiritual power – the ability to interpret sacred texts, represent divine will, and confer forgiveness or belonging.

• Psychological power – intimate access to a person’s vulnerabilities, history, and emotional struggles.

• Social power – control over reputation, inclusion, and exclusion within the faith community.

• Gendered and cultural power – in many traditions, male clergy hold authority over predominantly female congregants, reinforced by patriarchal norms.

  
  

When this power is misused, it produces coercion that can feel invisible to outsiders. Survivors may appear “willing” because they are navigating fear of isolation, disbelief, or spiritual consequences. In one study, Pooler and Droesch (2025) found that survivors of adult clergy sexual abuse who screened positive for PTSD reported profound impacts across all areas of life—including friendships (95%), life satisfaction (90%), and spiritual life (81%). Many also described being ostracised once the abuse was disclosed, which intensified trauma and eroded social support.

In these situations, silence is not consent—it is a symptom of coercion.

Grooming Across the Lifespan

While this series focuses primarily on adults, grooming behaviours often mirror those used in child sexual abuse. Understanding those parallels helps clarify why adult victims are not “more responsible” for what happened.

Grooming typically involves:

1. Selection – targeting a person who is vulnerable, isolated, or seeking guidance.

2. Gaining trust – offering care, mentorship, or spiritual insight.

3. Boundary testing – introducing touch, private meetings, or personal disclosure under the guise of pastoral concern.

4. Isolation – creating secrecy or dependency that separates the individual from support networks.

5. Normalization – reframing sexualised behaviour as “love,” “mutual,” or spiritually justified.

   
   

In both child and adult cases, the abuser’s goal is to erode the survivor’s ability to recognise or resist exploitation. For children, this is obvious. For adults, the dynamics are obscured by cultural assumptions that maturity equals agency. But when power, trust, and spiritual dependence are exploited, the difference in age becomes secondary. The psychological mechanisms—fear, confusion, shame, loyalty—remain the same.

Why “Affair” Language Harms Survivors

When faith communities describe clergy abuse as an “affair,” several harmful outcomes follow:

1. Blame is redirected. The term implies mutual participation rather than exploitation. Survivors may be labelled as temptresses, homewreckers, or morally weak.

2. The abuser’s authority is preserved. If both parties are seen as equally responsible, the clergy member’s role as a spiritual leader remains intact.

3. Accountability is diminished. Institutions can avoid confronting systemic failures by framing the abuse as a moral lapse rather than a breach of duty.

4. The survivor’s trauma is deepened. Being told they “had an affair” invalidates the survivor’s experience and complicates their recovery from PTSD or complex trauma.

De Weger (2022) highlights how institutions often collude in this reframing to protect their image. In some denominations, the language of “moral failing” or “inappropriate relationship” replaces terms like abuse or exploitation. This sanitised language makes it easier for communities to move on without confronting the full gravity of what occurred.

For survivors, such minimisation constitutes a second betrayal—one that can be as damaging as the original abuse. The mind internalises these messages, and shame takes root: If I was complicit, maybe I deserved it. Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe I am the problem.

In therapy, naming the abuse accurately is one of the first steps toward healing. Reframing “affair” as abuse of power restores agency to the survivor and places responsibility squarely where it belongs—on the perpetrator and the systems that enabled them.

Coercion in Religious Contexts

Coercion in clergy abuse is often subtle, embedded within spiritual authority and emotional dependence. Unlike physical force, coercion manipulates beliefs, needs, and fears.

Common coercive dynamics include:

• Spiritual manipulation: framing sexual acts as spiritually significant or “divinely blessed.”

• Gaslighting: denying, minimising, or twisting the survivor’s perception of events (“You wanted this,” “You’re misunderstanding our connection”).

• Conditional care: withholding approval, attention, or spiritual guidance until compliance occurs.

• Fear of punishment or exclusion: suggesting that disclosure would bring shame to the community or “harm God’s work.”

• Exploitation of confession: using private disclosures or counselling sessions to gain control.

The result is psychological entrapment. Survivors describe feeling frozen—aware something is wrong, yet terrified of losing their spiritual home. This paralysis often extends long after the abuse ends, manifesting as self-blame, intrusive memories, and chronic mistrust of authority figures.

When the Survivor Is an Adult

Adult survivors frequently face disbelief precisely because they are adults. Observers may ask, “Why didn’t you just leave?” or “Why didn’t you say no?” These questions ignore the power differential and underestimate the emotional control clergy can exert.

Pooler and Frey (2017) documented numerous cases where survivors were adults in their 20s, 30s, or 40s—people who had sought counselling, mentorship, or spiritual direction. Many entered pastoral care during crises such as grief, depression, or marital conflict. When the abuse began, they were already emotionally dependent on their clergy for guidance.

Leaving meant not only ending a relationship but also losing their community, their faith identity, and sometimes their livelihood. In small or insular churches, the social costs of speaking out can be devastating. This is why trauma recovery for adult survivors often involves rebuilding a sense of autonomy and safety that was systematically dismantled through manipulation.

The Role of Institutional Betrayal

Even after disclosure, many survivors find that the harm continues—not through direct contact with the perpetrator, but through the institution’s response. Smith and Freyd (2013) define institutional betrayal as what happens when organisations fail to protect or support those who depend on them.

In religious settings, this can look like:

• Disbelief or minimisation (“He would never do that”).

• Blame (“You must have led him on”).

• Silence or removal of the survivor from the congregation “for peace.”

• Relocation of the perpetrator to another ministry without transparency.

In the 2025 Pooler and Droesch study, only 8% of survivors felt supported by their church after reporting abuse. For those already coping with PTSD, this secondary trauma compounds symptoms of hypervigilance, shame, and social isolation. The survivor is once again made to carry the burden of secrecy, while the institution protects its image.

Healing and Recovery: Reclaiming Power

Healing from clergy sexual abuse requires dismantling the internalised messages of coercion and reclaiming one’s right to autonomy, dignity, and spiritual agency. Recovery is deeply personal, but certain principles tend to support the process.

1. Naming the Abuse

Language matters. Accurately identifying what happened as abuse—not an affair, mistake, or moral failure—creates the foundation for healing. This reframing also helps survivors begin to address the trauma physiologically and emotionally, rather than through shame or self-blame.

2. Restoring Bodily Autonomy

Therapies such as EMDR, somatic experiencing, or trauma-focused cognitive behavioural therapy can help survivors regulate the nervous system and re-establish a sense of safety in their bodies. Many describe feeling disconnected or numb; these approaches help rebuild body awareness and trust in internal signals.

3. Rebuilding Safe Relationships

Because the abuse often occurs in a relational and spiritual context, recovery depends on finding trustworthy connections—therapeutic, social, or spiritual—where power is shared, not imposed. Support groups for survivors of clergy abuse (such as Restored Voices Collective or Awake) offer spaces of solidarity free from theological coercion.

4. Exploring Spiritual Wounds

Some survivors wish to re-engage with faith; others choose to step away. Both paths are valid. Clinicians should avoid imposing spiritual interpretations and instead facilitate meaning-making that feels authentic to the survivor. Healing may involve reframing concepts like forgiveness or authority, and acknowledging grief over the loss of a faith community.

5. Advocacy and Systemic Change

Many survivors find empowerment in advocacy—speaking out, contributing to policy reform, or supporting others. This shift from silence to agency can help transform trauma into purposeful action, countering the helplessness that characterises PTSD.

A Shared Responsibility

Understanding clergy sexual abuse as coercion rather than consent changes everything. It demands new language, new policies, and new ways of listening. It reminds faith communities that safeguarding is not only about protecting children—it is about recognising the potential for abuse wherever power and vulnerability intersect.

When institutions acknowledge that “consent” cannot exist within relationships of unequal power, they move closer to genuine accountability. And when survivors are met with compassion instead of judgment, they begin to recover not only their sense of safety but also their ability to trust again—perhaps even to trust their own voice.

If you have experienced abuse by a clergy member

You do not have to face this alone. The abuse of power by someone in spiritual authority is a profound betrayal, but recovery is possible. Professional, trauma-informed support is available.

If you are seeking support, Refuge Psychology offers compassionate, evidence-based care for those recovering from abuse and complex trauma—including those harmed in religious or institutional contexts. Together, we can work toward healing that restores your sense of safety, dignity, and hope.

You can learn more or book a confidential appointment here.

Book an Appointment

References

1. Freyd, J. J. (1996). Betrayal Trauma: The Logic of Forgetting Childhood Abuse. Harvard University Press.

2. Pooler, D., & Droesch, R. (2025). Adult Clergy Sexual Abuse and PTSD: The Impact on Protestant Female Survivors. Pastoral Psychology, 74, 561–578.

3. Pooler, D., & Frey, L. (2017). Adult Clergy Sexual Abuse: Power, Boundary Violations, and the Myth of Consent. Journal of Psychology and Theology, 45(2), 104–119.

4. de Weger, S. (2022). Clericalism and Adult Clergy Sexual Abuse: The Hidden Dimension of Spiritual Power. Religions, 13(6), 528.

5. Smith, C. P., & Freyd, J. J. (2013). Institutional Betrayal. American Psychologist, 68(6), 575–587.

6. Garland, D. R., & Argueta, C. (2010). How Clergy Sexual Misconduct Happens: A Qualitative Study of First-Person Accounts. Social Work & Christianity, 37(1), 1–27.'

   
   

Disclaimer

Any stories or examples provided are illustrative only and do not describe a specific client, person, or event. Some of the information presented relates to health and mental health issues but is not intended as medical advice. It is offered for general informational purposes. While every effort is made to ensure accuracy, some information may reflect opinion or emerging research. Your personal circumstances have not been considered, so any reliance on this material is at your own risk. Please seek independent professional advice before acting on any of it. Find the full terms of service here: Terms of Service | Refuge Psychology