Voices: The weight of our words

I never had the privilege of meeting Jennifer Lyell, although I deeply wish I had. And now, I never will get the chance, at least on this side of eternity. She died Saturday from a series of massive strokes. She was only 47 years old.

Readers of the Baptist Standard likely will know Jennifer Lyell as a prominent sexual abuse survivor within the Southern Baptist Convention. In many ways, it is a shame this is her main legacy. Her friend, Rachael Denhollander, has written a beautiful tribute to Lyell—which I encourage you to read in its entirety—showing how much more she really was.

A godly Christian woman. A dear friend. A lover of books and children. An amazingly gifted and accomplished former leader within LifeWay Christian Resources. And more. Lyell was an incredible woman whose legacy was tarnished unfairly and whose life tragically was cut short, at least in part, by hateful and dishonest words.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” That common nursery rhyme simply isn’t true. Vicious, cruel words profoundly harmed Jennifer Lyell. And we need to reflect on that.

The short version of the story

I briefly want to preface my following remarks: I only use words like “claimed” and “alleged” out of conformity to common journalistic standards. I do not doubt Lyell’s claims of abuse, not one bit. I believe her, and I think you should, too.

During her time as a student at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in the early 2000s, Lyell was a student of David Sills, then a professor at the school. Lyell claimed that during her time as his student, Sills sexually abused her repeatedly for years and years. Out of fear and shame, Lyell kept this secret for a long time.

But in 2018, she came forward privately to her boss at LifeWay and to leadership at Southern Seminary to report what happened. There was an investigation, Sills confessed to sexual misconduct, and he quietly resigned from his ministry posts.

However, when Lyell learned Sills was moving on to another ministry position, she decided to go public about her alleged abuse in order to protect others from Sills.

When the story took a turn for the worse

Baptist Press, the official news source of the SBC, published a story about Lyell—but with a catastrophic alteration. For reasons I personally still cannot fathom, Baptist Press, without Lyell’s approval, changed her story and portrayed her relationship with Sills not as sexual abuse, but as “a morally inappropriate relationship.”

That’s when all hell broke loose.

Lyell was promptly smeared as an “adulteress,” a “temptress” and a “lying whore.” Countless Southern Baptists and other readers of the Baptist Press story called for Lyell to be fired from LifeWay. Baptist Press did not issue a correction or an apology until months later, and even then, it didn’t really fix anything.

Certain hard-right activists and provocateurs within the SBC and wider evangelicalism continue to perpetuate the “Jennifer the lying whore” narrative, as Lyell called it. And it ruined her life. Her reputation was destroyed. She lost her job. The constant attacks, harassment and even death threats also compromised her health because of the chronic stress.

And now she’s dead.

Women 47 years old don’t die from massive strokes, at least not normally. I am not a doctor, so I cannot give a definite evaluation of what caused the strokes that killed Jennifer Lyell. But the way the constant attacks severely affected her health is well-documented. I cannot imagine the chronic stress and attending health problems didn’t contribute to those strokes.

The weight of our words

I believe the people who misrepresented Lyell’s story, who twisted her words, who falsely smeared her as an “adulteress,” “temptress” and “lying whore” have blood on their hands. They bear at least partial responsibility for Lyell’s death.

Jennifer Lyell didn’t owe anyone her story. She didn’t have to go public and speak to Baptist Press. If she hadn’t, there’s a good chance she’d still be alive and happily employed at LifeWay, enjoying a relatively peaceful and quiet life, continuing to provide strong leadership and service to the convention of churches she loved.

But because she courageously chose to speak out, because she tried to use her words for the sake of truth and justice, Jennifer Lyell’s life was ruined by other people’s incompetence and cruelty. Now she’s dead, at least in part because vicious and hateful maledictors hid behind the safety of the internet and used their words to rip her apart.

Many people often wonder why sexual abuse survivors so often don’t come forward until years later, or never come forward at all. This is why.

Countless women—and men—who’ve come forward about their sexual abuse have experienced smaller-scale versions of what Lyell went through after she came forward. Misrepresentation. Accusations of lying. Job loss. Harassment. Death threats.

It could have been different

What happened to Jennifer Lyell isn’t unheard of. It just happened to her on a scale and a stage far larger than it usually does. Her death should prompt us to consider how we treat others who come forward with allegations of sexual abuse.

Compassion. Listening ears. A desire to understand and to help. That’s what sexual abuse survivors need. That’s what Jennifer Lyell needed.

Yes, we should make sure the accused also are treated fairly and are not condemned prematurely as guilty. But there is a world of difference between seeking an impartial investigation and condemning the alleged victim as a “lying whore.”

I’m angry and heartbroken about what happened to Jennifer Lyell, and I didn’t even know her. I can’t fathom the pain those who did know and love her must be feeling right now.

I take consolation from knowing she’s now forever safe in the presence of Jesus (Philippians 1:23). But she still should be alive. She never should have been abused, and her life never should have been ruined for coming forward about it.

Jennifer Lyell’s death is a devastating reminder of just how destructive our words can really be.

Joshua Sharp is the senior pastor of First Baptist Church in Chappell Hill, and a graduate of Southwest Baptist University in Bolivar, Mo., and Baylor University’s Truett Theological Seminary in Waco. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.