Peter Ediger

Colorado Mennonite minister and church leader sexually abused congregants under the guise of ‘spiritual love’

In 1993, Peter J. Ediger (1926–2012) had his ministerial credentials terminated as a result of his sexual abuse and abuse of power toward female members of Arvada Mennonite Church, Arvada, Colorado, where he pastored for more than 20 years. The congregation was affiliated at that time with the Western District Conference (WDC) of the General Conference Mennonite Church, and it is now affiliated with the Mountain States Mennonite Conference of Mennonite Church USA.

In late 1986, Ediger announced that he would resign as pastor of Arvada and as director of Mennonite Voluntary Service, citing personal reasons. The Ministerial Committee of WDC placed Ediger on “indefinite leave of absence from ministry” in 1987. Over the next eight years, WDC worked with Arvada Mennonite Church and Ediger “toward increased communication and healing” and established an Arvada Abuse Recovery Fund, to which Ediger was asked to contribute. Ediger’s ministerial credentials were finally revoked in 1993, and the church, with the support of the conference, held a service of closure in 1995.

Allegations against Ediger included long-term sexual misconduct and abuse of pastoral authority with multiple women in the congregation​. His misconduct spanned years, involving sexualized relationships with as many as a dozen women, particularly within counseling settings​. Ediger never seemed to acknowledge the harm he caused, and reports indicate he used his spiritual authority to justify sexual acts, telling some people, “This is a higher form of spiritual love, and those who do not understand it are not as spiritually advanced.”

After victims began to come forward and Ediger was forced to resign, he began attending a neighboring Mennonite church led by a friend of his. Ediger later moved to Las Vegas, Nevada, where in 1989 he helped the Franciscan Friars of California found Pace e Bene Nonviolence Service. Ediger also became a member of the Las Vegas Catholic Worker.

Years of hidden abuse

Larry Kent Graham was a professor of pastoral theology and care at Iliff School of Theology in Denver, Colorado​. Graham’s 1992 book, Care of Persons, Care of Worlds, includes an anonymized account of the story based on his work with multiple individuals from the Arvada congregation.

The minister and the congregation had been in fellowship for over twenty years. The minister was a widely known leader in the church and community. He was particularly noted for his creativity in congregational leadership and for his courageous peace activism. He was an influential model of radical discipleship. He mixed a charismatic personal style with facilitative leadership in the congregation.

From time to time since 1974 there were rumors that the minister had “inappropriate relationships” with certain female parishioners. These rumors were not pursued. A year or so before the sexual abuse of power came to light, there was some concern over the state of the minister’s marriage and some financial assistance was provided for marital counseling. There was also concern that the minister appeared to be dating a single woman in the congregation. The romantic overtones of their public interactions were troubling to some, but little was done to confront this until other allegations came to light.

[I]n the fall of 1986, a female member of the congregation confided to a study group that a year earlier the minister had made sexual advances to her when they were alone in a house on a work trip. During a back-rub, which was suggested by him, he began fondling her breasts. She was shocked and asked him to stop. It took nearly a year to make this public. When she told the study group, some thought it should be confronted as sexual abuse on the part of the minister. Others thought she was overreacting and that it should basically be forgotten. The group finally decided that the deacons should know and that the minister should be confronted.

The chronology here is conflicting and incomplete. But it appears that something like the following happened. Individuals in the group were assigned to inform each of the deacons of the allegations. On the basis of Jesus’ directive to confront an offender personally, the deacons asked the woman to confront the minister herself and to arrange a meeting with him and the deacons. This turned out badly, since the minister was angry and the woman felt more vulnerable. Subsequently, a meeting was arranged with the woman, the study group, the deacons, and the minister. The minister was confronted publicly at this time. He denied that he had done anything wrong and became very emotional. He said that he was being victimized by this process.

The deacons continued deliberating about how to proceed, since some members of the study group insisted that further victimization was taking place and they were very angry. The minister was angry, feeling he was being falsely accused, and victimized by this process. Others were angry that “the women” (a term used to designate a group of both males and females who were identified with the needs of those who survived the minister’s victimization) were overreacting and taking out on the minister their hostility toward male authority. In the meantime, one woman in the study group and at least one deacon was informed that another woman in the congregation was being sexually abused by the minister in her counseling with him. She, however, was not ready to have this become public (partly because of how badly she thought the minister and deacon were handling the relatively less shocking case that had already come to light, and partly because the deacons told her not to bring it to light since they had enough information already). A number of other people in the congregation knew of these cases on a private, secret-keeping basis, while a larger number of members of the congregation were in the dark about any of these allegations. There was no real distinction between confidentiality and secret-keeping in this system over these matters.

After a month or so, a congregational meeting was held to consider how to respond to the minister. … The congregational meeting was skewed by the minister offering his resignation earlier in the day. He admitted general improprieties and asked forgiveness. Action was delayed for two weeks, in accordance with church polity. There was much pain and conflict in the church during the period that followed. Some thought the minister’s remorse was not genuine. Some thought the women were overreacting to his behavior. They believed that his accuser was partially responsible for what happened.

[At another meeting two weeks later], a well-respected female parishioner disclosed that the minister some years earlier had sexualized their relationship when she was receiving pastoral counseling from him. She disclosed that there had been “intimate sexual caressing” as a “regular occurrence” in her counseling. She said that this “clearly included gratification of sexual appetite which I knew then and now was appropriate only to your wife and required an agreement to secrecy.” She broke it off. She shared that consequently she was deeply depressed and considered the possibility of suicide. Her statement, which had high credibility, galvanized the congregation into further awareness of the nature of the abuse and focused the congregation’s response toward the minister. The minister’s relationship to the church was terminated, with pay effective for five months. His pastoral duties would not include preaching or counseling. There was a sincere beginning attempt to hold him accountable, though he took little or no public responsibility about the specific charges.

A number of individuals confronted the minister privately. They did not reveal this publicly because they did not want to give fuel to the anger and pain that was so dominant. It was stated by at least two people that the minister admitted his behavior, and indicated that something similar may have taken place with up to a total of twelve women over the years. There was general agreement among those who talked to him privately that the minister was neither genuinely repentant nor remorseful, in spite of general public apologies and requests for forgiveness. In private, he indicated to a number of people that he did not think that he had really done anything wrong. He was cited as saying, “There is nothing wrong with this; this is a higher form of spiritual love and those who do not understand it are not as spiritually advanced.” He was also quoted as saying, “I don’t see anything wrong with this and I hope it happens again.”

In the spring, … the victim who had secretly come forth in the fall shared her story at a congregational meeting. She described in some detail the sexual activity that took place in the minister’s office during counseling over a seven-year period. … She wanted to share her story to help people understand, as well as to gain support for herself. And while she did feel support by some, overall she felt further victimized by attitudes of denial, blame, and puzzlement about why she didn’t stop it earlier.

In late 1987, Daughters of Sarah magazine published “Pastoral Sexual Abuse: One Congregation’s Ordeal,” by Christine Hamilton-Pennell. The article provided another anonymized account of the story. Graham references Hamilton-Pennell’s article in his book:

There was a major conflict between those writing the official accounting and a woman who wrote an article for publication that criticized the self-congratulatory tone of the congregation. She thought the congregation did not recognize enough its ongoing denial and its secondary victimization of the women. In turn, many members of the church criticized her for not taking part in the healing opportunities of the church, and regarded her as a trouble-making leader of the “victim-identified fringe group.”

Using pseudonyms, Hamilton-Pennell added more detail to the story of the abuse that prompted the first disclosure to the church:

As representatives of Grace Church, Nancy along with James, her minister, attended an out-of-state conference. After a long day, James suggested an exchange of back rubs. Nancy agreed. While James was rubbing Nancy’s back, she was shocked to realize that he was becoming sexually aroused. He began breathing heavily, climbed on top of her, and began massaging her breasts. She couldn’t believe what was happening and pulled away in confusion. She had always thought of him as a father figure, particularly after he had counseled her through a difficult time after a friend’s suicide. She avoided him for the rest of the conference, and on her return home she told her husband what had happened. He was very upset.

Nancy wondered whether she had misunderstood James’ intentions or somehow given him the wrong signals, so she returned to the church to ask his impression of what had happened. He responded that it had been beautiful and he hoped it would happen again. Nancy told him she had been very upset by the incident. James said he hoped she would grow to understand the connection between spirituality and sexuality. He did not admit any wrongdoing or impropriety. Nancy resigned from her church commission and wrote a letter asking James for an apology. He did not apologize.

A year later, Nancy mentioned this incident to her friend Julia. Julia had been a victim of sexual abuse as a teenager, and she recognized the signs. At a small church group meeting in a private home, Julia made a comment about James’ impropriety, and Nancy reluctantly told her story. Julia said she believed James was sick and needed professional help. The group expressed shock and disbelief but decided to give this information to the deacons for discernment and action. The deacons met with James, who admitted he had engaged in an inappropriate back rub and was sorry. The deacons encouraged him to apologize to Nancy, but instead he called her and angrily demanded an explanation for why she had shared the incident. Nancy felt betrayed by the deacons, who did not protect her from James’ further abuse.

Over the next four months, a wider story of abuse unfolded slowly. At another meeting of the deacons, the small group, and James, Julia reported that two other women friends of hers had revealed that they had been sexually molested by James. She requested that James be asked to resign. Other members of the group seemed shocked by this suggestion and spoke about the need to “forgive and forget,” and not to “cast the first stone.” One of the deacons admitted that she had known about James’ sexual encounters for ten years. James acknowledged these sexual encounters. but said he had apologized privately to the women involved. He was vague when asked about the specifics.

At a second congregational meeting, which James did not attend, a second woman, Wilma, revealed that she also had been subjected to inappropriate sexual behavior by James ten years previously. She shared the difficulty she had experienced in trying to resolve the emotional conflicts resulting from James’ taking advantage of her vulnerability when she had sought counseling. She concluded by stating that his problem was serious and that he needed help. For many of those at the meeting, the presence of a visible witness helped them understand for the first time that sexual abuse had taken place.

Additional women continued to find the courage to speak of their own sexual abuse. Three months after the initial disclosure, Frieda shared her story with the congregation. “I don’t think guilt is helpful,” she began, “but I do think looking at what has happened and naming it is.” She proceeded to tell how she had gone to James for counseling at a particularly difficult time in her life. She continued:

“Over the following weeks and years the sexual involvement happened so slowly that I didn’t realize what was happening. I believed James when he said, ‘God wants this’; ‘It is Spirit led’; ‘God made us to need each other’; ‘This is God’s love for you.’ I no longer trusted myself or my instincts. I became dependent on James. I thought I owed James much and became a co-conspirator in an addiction. Over a seven-year period, activity ranged from holding, touching, massage of the breasts and genitals, oral gratification, and orgasm on James’ part. It stopped at the point where I might get pregnant. I was told not to tell anyone because ‘some people have hang-ups and wouldn’t understand.’ Speaking about it feels as if I’m breaking a trust. I am embarrassed by what has happened and my participation in it.”

Institutional responses

Hamilton-Pennell described what is now called “institutional betrayal” when she noted, “Initially, many members tended to support James and blame the victims for what had happened. The victims were thus doubly wounded, as the community they had trusted did not support them. As bonds of trust were torn, people became estranged from each other, and rumors abounded.”

Graham wrote about the tensions he observed:

“[W]hile the regional Mennonite Conference was generally supportive of the congregation’s steps toward healing and began processes that eventually led to the revocation of the credentials of the offending minister, at the same time it decided not to contribute to the congregation’s therapy fund for the victims for fear that this would be admitting liability.”

“To overcome the deep sense of shame felt by individuals and the congregation as a unit, various parties were demanding of one another particular behaviors and attitudes that they regarded as necessary for re-establishing the loss of esteem. This led to increased power struggles. One former member [said] that he was ashamed of his church; he left because it no longer expressed the unique Mennonite spirit of reconciliation and radical discipleship. The survivors and those identified with them expressed ongoing shame because the congregation blamed them or asked them to heal at a faster rate. In opposition, they believed that the congregation should have made justice and accountability a greater priority than healing or forgiveness. Members of the congregation said that they felt exposed and shamed in front of other Mennonite churches which seemed happy that they finally were being brought down. They believed that the Conference should have done more to support them. Others have said to the victims, in effect, ‘We have done a lot to help you heal; now you should not make us feel further shame by continuing to be so weak.’ Or, ‘We really have this behind us; do not make us feel more shame by reminding us how vulnerable we have been and how much we have lost. You should put it behind you too!'”

“The tension between the values of forgiveness and justice was exacerbated … by the congregation’s difficulty in knowing how to name the problem. Early on, there was a wide range of opinion: some saw this as adultery and/or affairs between consenting adults, others as sexual indiscretion or inappropriate touching, others as abuse of power, others as sexual abuse, others as seduction on the part of the women, and so on. There was great feeling about this, and the feeling fueled the shame, polarization, assessment of moral responsibility, and the nature of the appropriate response. To its credit, the congregation came to identify the events as an abuse of the role and power of the pastoral office by the pastor’s inducting parishioners into a sexualized relationship in the name of ministry.”

“Finally, there was tension along the axis of moral responsibility versus legal liability. Moral responsibility emphasizes accountability, justice-making, and due process on the part of the religious community for the victims as well as for the alleged offending minister. It includes attention to the way in which the congregation and the larger denominational structures respond to the allegations and to the victims. Legal liability refers to the civil or criminal responsibility of these parties to one another.

“Specters of lawsuits or criminal charges brought intersystemic boundary issues to the forefront, increasing power struggles within the congregation. For example, one prominent leader left the congregation in part because he feared a lawsuit by either the victims or the minister for lack of due process. Some members of the congregation were further angered at the Conference’s withdrawal of a promise to provide financial assistance to the survivors because legal counsel for the Conference reportedly thought that such assistance would be admitting liability for the offense. Moral responsibility of the denomination to the victims/survivors was in this case impeded by an overly sensitive fear of legal liability.”

Graham wrote in conclusion, “This congregation inspired me with its courage and its ability to name and share its pain.” He continued, “Though much healing has indeed taken place, there is an ongoing tendency to disown the pain and the truth of the tragedy in the congregation’s history. Instead, it must be defined as a part of who the congregation is, not as something to get over as though it never happened.”

He noted, “The offending minister has not responded to calls for accountability. All the survivors have left the congregation.”

Ediger died in 2012.