Whose Reputation Are We Protecting?

I recently heard a crisis PR professional say that more important than the crisis itself is the response.

After more than two decades in communications, I understand the point. How an organization responds matters. A lot. It can actually make or break a company.

But it made me think about the church. Specifically, what happens when protecting the church’s image becomes the priority when someone has been harmed.

Who gets believed? Who gets protected? And who becomes the problem?

I wonder how often a smear campaign becomes part of the response before people even recognize what they’re participating in.

A smear campaign is an effort to damage someone’s reputation and influence how others see and treat them. It can involve lies, misleading details, private information, or pieces of the truth presented without important context. The result is that people begin judging someone through a story another person has supplied.

And no, it doesn’t always sound like, “Let me tell you something terrible about this person.”

Sometimes it sounds like concern. Sometimes it sounds like an explanation for why someone left. Sometimes it comes with a request to pray for someone whose behavior has suddenly become “troubling.”

I’ve seen this from different vantage points. I’ve been the person hearing the story. I’ve experienced being on the receiving end. And, as uncomfortable as it is to admit, I can look back and recognize times when I helped perpetuate it.

I believed someone I trusted. I accepted their interpretation. I allowed what they told me to influence how I viewed another person without knowing enough to reach that conclusion.

That is a hard thing to acknowledge. But if I’m going to talk about this honestly, I have to include myself.

Because a smear campaign needs people willing to carry the story.

Those people may have no intention of hurting anyone. They may believe they’re supporting a friend, defending a leader, or protecting their congregation. But sincerity doesn’t make the information accurate, and good intentions don’t erase the harm.

This is where I think the church has some examining to do.

When a concern surfaces, there can be an immediate desire to settle everyone down. Explain what happened. Preserve confidence in leadership. Keep people from leaving. Make sure the church’s reputation survives.

But what if the explanation accomplishes those things by discrediting the person who raised the concern?

Suddenly, the conversation is about their attitude. Their motives. Their emotional state. Their supposed inability to forgive.

The original concern gets less attention while the person who raised it gets more scrutiny.

Before long, there’s a clear villain and a clear victim in the version being circulated. People know who deserves sympathy and who should be kept at a distance. They may feel certain about those roles without ever speaking to everyone involved.

That certainty concerns me, and it should concern you too.

A person’s reputation, position, or ability to tell a convincing story should not exempt their account from examination. Neither should someone’s pain, frustration, or imperfect response automatically disqualify theirs.

Of course churches need to communicate thoughtfully during difficult situations. But Christ’s call to truth, justice, and care for people has to shape that communication. We should be willing to discover that the facts are uncomfortable, even when those facts complicate the story we hoped to tell.

Proverbs 18:17 reminds us how convincing the first account can seem until it is examined. That should give us pause before we repeat an accusation, withdraw our friendship, or decide someone is the problem.

It should give us pause before we call our participation “protecting the church.”

This is one reason I’m beginning Beyond Harmless, launching November 3, with conversations about smear campaigns. I want us to understand what they are, how they affect the people targeted, how manipulators carry them out, and how the rest of us can help them succeed without realizing it.

I’m having these conversations as someone who wishes she had understood all of this sooner. Someone who has had to reconsider what she believed, what she accepted, and what she helped pass along.

We have a responsibility to examine the stories we’re handed, especially when accepting them will change how we view and treat another person.

Have you ever believed a story about someone that you later had reason to question? What might have changed if you had asked more questions before accepting it?