I don't know how your childhood and adolescence were, I hope they were good. Mine were in the church. I grew up between the white walls and the defined schedule of services and Sunday Bible study. I feel that the church was a protective space for me in many ways. But I wanted to talk about the ways the church silenced and never communicated to me about protection.
I always believed that the church protected me from many violences - both external and deadly. And I thought that was all that mattered. I was a black girl, growing up in a poor neighborhood of a medium-sized city in Brazil. Violence was there, just a step away. So were bad decisions. I grew up repeating to myself that the church protected me. Today, I disagree with that.
Growing up between Sunday Bible study and the children's prayer circle, I heard many fantastic stories that pointed to a God who made supernatural interventions. I learned about the God who enters a blazing furnace and saves young men from burning; I learned about donkeys talking to stubborn and narrow-minded humans. But I was never taught what God thought about my daily life.
I never heard about God intervening in distinctly human matters. I never knew God's opinion on alcoholism and other elements that result in terror in homes and the psychological violence that follows. As a child and then as a teenager, I was never taught in church about violence, nor that God or the church could be safe places for me or my family.
When I became a teenager, I started living another violent experience - and I couldn't define it as violence, but I felt the revolt of my body every time I was subjected to it, I felt embarrassed and very uncomfortable. What was this experience? From the ages of 12 or 13, I heard more and more the speech that I needed to date, that after 18 I would be left behind. There was a weight of time against me.
This speech, even though it made me feel bad, didn't make me submit to it - as happened with many of my friends - because my parents had a stronger speech about the importance of focusing on studies. But the fear of being left behind was terrible. I had suitors who became scarcer after I turned 18.
Why am I sharing this common trajectory? Because that's exactly what it is, common. Brazilian churches reflect the reality of Brazilian society. We know little about how to protect children and adolescents from violence, especially the most recurring forms of violence for this audience: sexual violence (harassment, abuse, exploitation), psychological violence, and physical violence.
We continue following a medieval logic of encouraging girls to enter relationships with older men, ignoring Brazilian legislation that states that a relationship with those under 14 is considered sexual assault of a vulnerable person, with or without their consent. We are one of the countries with the highest rates of child marriage in the world. These marriages are often marked by a significant age hierarchy that ends in domestic violence.
We prevent our adolescents from developing fully and impose on them expectations and relationships that are difficult even for adults. We know little about recognizing children and adolescents as people and relating to them through dialogue and discipline based on limits and trust, not violence and terror.
American writer Bell Hooks, reflecting on the process of raising children with love, presents us with a great challenge: "Nothing creates more confusion about love in the hearts and minds of children than harsh and/or cruel punishments inflicted by the same adults they have been taught to love and respect. These children learn from an early age to question the meaning of love and to yearn for it, even when they doubt that it exists."
She continues: "Every day, thousands of children in our country are verbally and physically abused, go hungry, are tortured and murdered. They are the true victims of an intimate terrorism, without collective voice or rights. They remain the property of adults who make them what they want. There can be no love without justice. Until we live in a culture that not only respects but ensures basic civil rights for children, most of them will not know love. In our culture, the nuclear family home is a sphere of institutionalized power that can easily become autocratic and fascist."
What can churches (and other spaces of faith and the sacred) do to be places where children know they are completely protective of them?
You may argue about the biblical centrality of the family as God's project and reinforce this relationship of tyranny. But the Bible tells us what happens when the family is not a protective space for its members. The Bible gives us examples of parents who failed in their role. Jacob's favoritism created enmity among his sons. Jephthah's levity condemned his daughter to death. Amnon's lust for his sister culminated in sexual violence. And what was David's attitude as a father? Silence that only protected his son and condemned his daughter. The result? More violence and suffering based on vengeance.
The family fails. And, anticipating this, our Constitution in Article 227 defines that children and adolescents are a priority in decisions and are the responsibility of the family, the state, society, and the community. Have we assumed our duty to protect children when families fail? Or have we protected the adults of these families?
In 2017, Brazil approved Law 13.431, which defines protocols for children to be heard, considered, and respected when they suffer violence or are witnesses to violence. The idea of the law is to prevent children from being revictimized, exposed, or for adults to believe what they say and protect them.
Violence is the phenomenon that most weakens the human being. Some violences haunt human beings for a lifetime. When a child tells an adult about violence they suffered or witnessed, it is the most vulnerable and decisive moment for them. As a society, we cannot repeat King David's mistake of remaining silent and pretending nothing happened. That is hypocrisy and more violence.
We can be honest in our churches and other community spaces. Families fail with their children. As a community, we can demonstrate the kind of care that God Christ, who incarnated, shows. And Jesus' care respects the law. Jesus' care recognizes children as people. Didn't he do that with those children being prevented from approaching him?
The care of this God reveals that churches are spaces where we need to listen to children. Isn't that what happened with 12-year-old Jesus teaching the wise men in the temple? Jesus' life is a suffering child's life, threatened by Herod and a migrant refugee in Egypt. Poor. But Jesus' life dignifies children, points out that they are people, and that their thoughts and feelings are important. As a predominantly Christian society, we have failed to reflect Jesus.
The rape of a vulnerable person is the main type of violence against children and adolescents reported in Brazil. The perpetrators of sexual violence against children and adolescents are, in most cases, known to the victim (between 60% and 80% of cases). The violation generally occurs in the residences of children and adolescents. Between 2021 and 2023, 45,649 babies were born to mothers under 14 years old — and 10 of these babies had mothers as young as 9 years old.
And these are underreported numbers. According to IPEA's estimate, the actual number could be up to 10 times higher. How can a predominantly Christian country accept these numbers? How do Christians defend that children who have suffered sexual violence and become pregnant, should keep the pregnancy, against Brazil's current legislation since 1940?
Have we been safe spaces for children to talk about their fears and sufferings? Have we been like Jesus, giving voice and space to children? Or have we been like David, silencing the victims? The challenge is set. I want to be part of a church and a society that protects and keeps children and adolescents safe.