Right
out of the blue, it started appearing in my email inbox: Writer’s
Almanac with Garrison Keillor. However, they were not recent postings.
These were reprinted from, well, from “before the troubles”.
You
may remember. It was after the height of the #MeToo Movement. Women
were just beginning to feel some sense of power after the humiliation
and disempowerment of having been sexually harassed in the workplace.
People and organizations, governmental agencies, and even religious
organizations were reacting quickly and strongly to the accusations
women were making about sexual harassment.
The
#MeToo movement began in 2006 as a grassroots effort by activist Tarana
Burke to support survivors of sexual assault. The movement gained global
attention in 2017 after actress Alyssa Milano tweeted #MeToo in
response to sexual assault allegations against Harvey Weinstein.
A
lot of good was done, nationally and internationally. #MeToo has helped
to change attitudes towards sexual assault and harassment. It has also
led to more people coming forward to share their experiences. The
movement is now an international non-profit organization that continues
to advocate for survivors and work to end sexual violence.
For
the first time, the attitude of “boys will be boys” was no longer
tolerated, and the unconscionably inappropriate behavior of grown men
who felt neither cultural constraint nor legal accountability for being
what could only be described as sexual predators was abruptly called
into question.
Suddenly, swiftly, company heads
were fired. Public figures were held accountable - most often by
exposure of their behavior and public shaming on social and legacy
media. Laws were written and passed mandating sexual harassment
training in the workplace. Nondisclosure clauses in sexual misconduct
settlements were banned in California, New Jersey, New York, Oregon, and
Virginia.
Most importantly, the statute of
limitations on sexual harassment and assault charges was lifted in many
states and municipalities, and victims were allowed to seek legal remedy
in a proper court of law. In New York, over 3,000 lawsuits were filed
between November 2022 and November 2023 as a result of the Adults
Survivors Act.
Even the Episcopal Church provided an
open invitation to victims of sexual harassment and assault, no matter
the year of the offense.
In 2018 the Episcopal
Church held a "Liturgy of Listening" at General Convention in Austin,
TX. to address the #MeToo movement. The liturgy focused on confession,
healing, and lamentation and included first-hand accounts from victims
of sexual harassment and abuse. Bishops - male bishops, some of whom had
had rumors swirling about them for years - read the accounts.
The
Bishops adopted a covenant to respond “more forcefully” to sexual
exploitation and harassment and created a Task Force on Women, Truth,
and Reconciliation. The church also removed references to gender from
materials that clergy file with the Office of Transition Ministry.
To my knowledge, no Title IV complaints resulted from that liturgy or covenant.
And
then, some stuff happened that seemed to have been engineered by
lawyers to provide more “risk management” and “preventative litigation
in the court of public opinion” than justice or, in fact, even concern
for the victims.
In my opinion, Al Franken was one
of those. Mr. Franken was a former entertainer who was the elected
Senator from Minnesota. In November 2017, he was charged with forcibly
kissing a woman a decade before. Seven other women came forward to say
they had experienced unwanted advances from him. Many Democratic
senators demanded his resignation, and he complied.
Many asked, then and now, did the punishment fit the crime?
In
that same month and year, Minnesota Public Radio cut ties with Garrison
Keillor after learning of allegations of inappropriate behavior with
someone who worked with Keillor. The decision meant that Keillor's "The
Writer's Almanac" and "The Best of A Prairie Home Companion" would no
longer be broadcast.
I, like many others, was
conflicted and yet devastated. On the one hand, I felt personally
betrayed by someone who had entertained me and inspired me for decades.
His “News from Lake Woebegon,” the weekly monologue laced with homespun
stories and humor and often stitched with strong threads of morality and
theology, had become my Saturday night sermon before I had to preach
the next morning.
How could you not long to visit
the fictional town? The original founders of what became Lake Wobegon
were described by Keillor as “New England Unitarian missionaries, at least one of whom came to convert the Native American Ojibwe Indians through interpretive dance.
Who
didn’t want to shop at Ralph's Pretty Good Grocery, where the motto was
"If you can't find it at Ralph's, you can probably get along (pretty
good) without it." Or, The Chatterbox Café, "The place to go that's just
like home." Or, The Sidetrack Tap, run by Wally and Evelyn; "The dim
little place in the dark where the pinball machine never tilts, the
clock is a half-hour slow, and love never dies."
How
could a man from a town in Minnesota where "all the women are strong,
all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average"
behave inappropriately with women?
It absolutely
goes without saying that the women who had the courage to speak out
about inappropriate behavior ought to be believed and supported. Without
question.
Keillor defended himself against the
allegations. In an email to the Star Tribune, he reported that he meant
to pat a woman on her back when she told him she was unhappy. He says
her shirt was open and that his hand went up it about six inches. He
says he apologized after she recoiled. He writes that he thought they
were friends until he got a call from her lawyer.
Keillor
was publicly shamed and humiliated and was fired from his job with NPR,
the Writer’s Almanac, and The Poetry Foundation in disgrace.
Many asked, then and now, did the punishment fit the crime?
As
we enter more deeply into the Season of Lent, my question has to do
with forgiveness. When is enough, enough? When is it time to say when?
As
a Christian, forgiveness is a central component of the teaching of
Jesus. He emphasized that forgiveness should be limitless and not
counted. “Seventy times seven,” he answered Peter when asked how many
times he should forgive someone’s transgression.
I
have always taken that to mean that forgiveness is a process that
involves many layers. It often feels like peeling the impossibly thin
layers of onion skin, one layer at a time, with all the attendant tears
and emotions. “Seventy times seven.”
It is not
anyone’s right to impose a timeline of healing on someone who has been
hurt, betrayed, or assaulted. Some may need seventy; others only the
seven. I’m wondering if the same timeline ought to be imposed on the
public.
I will say this, there is something in my
heart that was very happy to see the release of previous editions of The
Writer’s Almanac in my inbox. I am delighted to find him writing again
in a column here on Substack (Garrison Keillor and Friends). I am excited to learn that there is a digital (and CD) copy of the 50th Anniversary tour of A Prarie Home Companion, which features Garrison Keillor and some of the old favorites of that show.
I
continue to hold in my prayers the woman who was inappropriately
touched. I support her in her healing and recovery. I’m sure she felt
even more deeply hurt and betrayed for many of the same reasons I did
when I first learned of the incident. I don’t know if she’s found
forgiveness. That’s not for me to know or determine. I don’t know if
there’s been a reconciliation. That is a private, personal matter.
I only know that for me, forgiveness is now. “When” is now. For me, it is enough.
For
this member of the public who felt betrayed by a public figure, the
pastoral math assignment has been completed. Seventy times seven.
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