Should Clergy Call the Cops?

Commentary

by

Special to United Methodist Insight | July 1, 2025

The father confessed that he was thinking of kidnapping his son. Should I call the police?

A new law in Washington State, set to take effect July 1, requires clergy to report cases of child abuse or neglect/ It explicitly mandates them to report information learned from parishioners in confession and excludes them from claiming professional privilege. New Hampshire, West Virginia, North Carolina, Oklahoma, Rhode Island, Tennessee and Texas do the same.

The Catholic archbishop of Seattle, Paul Etienne, has responded that church policy already mandates reporting to authorities abuse of children — including any committed by a cleric —- except when the information was gleaned in confession. Any priest who divulges anything a penitent confesses “under the seal” will be excommunicated. Catholic bishops, along with the Orthodox Church in America, the Antiochian Orthodox Archdiocese of North America, and several other Orthodox jurisdictions — all of which have similar rules — have sued Washington state to block this new requirement.[1] 

This legislation grows in no small part out of outrage at churches’ failure to protect children from predators, but there is plenty of blame to go around. Schools, Scouting, the medical profession, police departments, courts, legislatures, and a host of other institutions have had a slow, painful learning curve on this issue. Many families remain reluctant to recognize perpetrators in their midst.

Cases of abuse within religious organizations prompt many people who believe in the separation of church and state to have little qualm about ordering clergy to violate the rules of their faith community. Perhaps protecting children must take priority over everything else. If so, why not require attorneys to call the cops? In Washington, as elsewhere, the legislature is made up disproportionately of lawyers: They protect attorney-client privilege, even in cases of child abuse, but demand clergy reveal what parishioners confess, even when they have promised confidentiality and their denomination has demanded it for centuries. Most of us have grown accustomed to legislators breaking their campaign pledges; but to have your pastor, priest, or rabbi divulge your deepest secrets could be shattering.

We are unlikely to see cardinals handcuffed for refusing to violate their ordination vows, though. Washington’s new law seems to have been enacted without much thought to how confession actually works. Clergy, in fact, rarely hear anything they might report, even if they were so inclined. Film and television dramas have revolved around the dilemma of a priest who learns the identity of a killer or rapist in the confession booth, but a friend who is a Catholic priest in California reports that in four decades, nobody has ever confessed any such thing. Even if they did, he hears confessions in the anonymity of a darkened confession booth. “I can’t see their faces, and I don’t recognize voices. I wouldn’t know who was sitting on the other side of the screen.”

Catholic rules already mandate reporting any knowledge of child abuse — except what is learned “under the seal.” Do abusive priests admit in the confession booth that they themselves molest children? Almost never. They rationalize and deny their misdeeds, just like people in the pews. As a cleric on Long Island reports, they avail themselves of the Sacrament of Reconciliation no more frequently than laity do. And it has been years since he has seen lines of penitents outside the booth.

Washington’s new law, I expect, will have a greater effect on non-Catholics. Protestant, Jewish, and Unitarian Universalist clergy hear confessions less often than Catholic or Orthodox priests, but usually do so face to face, in a context of pastoral care and counseling — often, I find, right after a parishioner asks me not to reveal what they say.

Not all clergy and not all denominations consider confession privileged when it involves children, but my own position is like that of Catholicism and Orthodoxy, and I say so. This certainly makes it easier for people to admit that they have lied to their parents, cheated on their taxes, or cheated on their spouses. It is how I have learned about several cases of incest, but only decades later, long after the statute of limitations had run out, and often after the offender’s death.

Confidentiality helps people seek help. One afternoon, a teenager got really annoyed when I would not tell her whether her mother had made a counseling appointment. “You know what I told your youth group the other day? That you could talk to me about anything, and I would not testify against you? That I will not even tell your parents you came to see me? I meant it.” Frustrated, she left a message for me to pass along to her mom if I happened to see her. A few days later, she made a counseling appointment herself.

Keeping secrets does not mean taking no action. One incest survivor told me in a counseling session about a creep posing as a filmmaker to prey on vulnerable women in an incest survivors support group at another church. They were too embarrassed to go to the police.

I told her I knew a cop who became a pastor. Would she like me to ask him whom he knew whom he would trust to investigate this with compassion for the embarrassed victims? She did and invited her friends to join us while I made the call, vouching for my trustworthiness. My colleague suggested someone he respected in the Special Victims Unit. Within minutes, all three women were on the phone with her. She set up a sting with an undercover officer, nailed the predator, and discovered outstanding wants and warrants for him in half a dozen states. Without my promise of confidentiality, he might never have been caught.

Later, another parishioner made a counseling appointment and wanted assurances of confidentiality. She told me she wanted to report a drug dealer who would not stay away from  her husband, who was struggling to stay clean. She feared her local PD was on the take. How could she drop a dime on the dealer without jeopardizing the safety of her family? I knew another cop-turned-cleric who had a suggestion.

Another time, a parishioner who had lost custody of his son asked if I would keep secret what he told me. I assured him I would. He then said he was thinking of snatching his child. I could not tell him what his mother-in-law had told me: there was a shotgun waiting if he ever tried. “What will happen if you grab your son?” I asked. “Do you want to see him tonight if it means you  never see him again?” 

This “reality therapy” seemed to work, but as soon as he left, I called his ex to tell her to take her son and get out of the house, but there was no answer. If I could not reach her parents, I decided, I would sit on her stoop and tell her ex he had to go through me to get to the door—which is admittedly easier for a pastor to do if you are male, 6’5”, and a bit reckless. Fortunately, her mother answered the phone. “I cannot say anything,” I said. “But your daughter and grandson need to come visit. Right now.”

After a long pause, she replied, “So that’s where he went. They’re already here. Somebody saw him drive by. I’m glad he was headed to see you.”

What would have happened if I had told him there was no confidentiality where children were concerned? Would he have trusted my assurances if we lived in a state that required me to violate his trust? I’ll never know. What did happen was this:  he bottomed out, got help, got clean, and became a good father.

Here’s another thing legislators might consider: If clergy are obligated to report abuse and neglect to the police, some of us may call the cops whenever we see government neglecting children: slashing Medicaid or reducing staffing at Child Protective Services, for example, or blocking a congregation from opening a shelter for homeless families. That will be fun.

The Rev. Thomas W. Goodhue is a United Methodist clergyman and former Executive Director of the Long Island Council of Churches. His latest book is “Queen Kaahumanu of Hawaii” (McFarland).

[1] Cassy Benefield, “Orthodox Churches Join Catholic Bishops in Suing Washington over Abuse Reporting Law,”  FāVS News/Religion News Service June 18, 2025.