What would it look like to take the preferential option for the poor seriously in light of the Clergy-Perpetrated Sexual Abuse (CPSA) crisis and what does that mean for the most central theological claims of Christian faith? In Sacrifice Lost, Theuring offers a compelling response: centering survivor voices and reading atonement through their complex reflections. Theuring starts her exploration with these stark words from one interview subject and survivor, “The biggest mistake I ever made was going to the Catholic Church for help” (5). Theuring demands we take this survivor’s indictment seriously and give sustained attention to how the stories told in Christian faith shape its simultaneous capacity to both harm and heal.
The book is broken into three parts, each grounded in qualitative interviews with survivors as well as a wide survey of quantitative and qualitative research on CPSA. Part 1 focuses on atonement narratives as potentially empowering as well as damaging. Importantly, it starts from what social workers call a “strengths-based” perspective: that no matter an outsider’s assessment of a survivor’s meaning-making structure, it is important to recognize how they may build their own healing from traditional narratives (here classic atonement theories). Theuring does not let this simplicity stand for long, offering necessary critiques of atonement, as well as specifics of how the “darker side” of atonement functions to reify harm and encourage silence for CPSA survivors, specifically via moral injury (48). Part 2 details the CPSA crisis and points toward the recovery needs of individuals and communities. Part 3 draws together the strands of parts 1 and 2 to reimagine a crucifixion narrative focused on hope, justice, and resurrection that can meet the reality of abuse survivors. Using the passion narrative from Mark, Theuring encourages us to read CPSA as a “modern crucifixion” that requires “a reevaluation of the cross as a symbol, a critical view of self-sacrifice, an affirmation of God’s solidarity with those who suffer, the naming and resistance of evil, and an appreciation of the community’s role in healing and transformation” (176). Ending with a detailed survivor narrative, Theuring calls for a “survivor-centered church” (221), challenging the synodal call to the margins and democratic processes as not just about crossing boundaries that often divide us, but engaging those rifts caused by deep harm in which we are all entangled.
Theuring’s work is situated within the emerging field of trauma theology, specifically growing in Catholic scholarship in recent years. Some academic readers may find Sacrifice Lost to be a bit simplified, but its strength lies in its accessibility as an entry point into a conversation that is too long overdue in Catholic parishes, nonprofits, and community groups. It clearly lays forth how deeply embedded atonement theories are in the Catholic imagination of suffering, redemption, ethical behavior, and, ultimately, justice. Sacrifice Lost would serve as a provocative and necessary addition to introductory theology courses (especially in Catholic institutions), grounding how atonement is understood and lived by real wounded and healing persons. It would also be useful for clarifying the ongoing nature of the CPSA crisis as a systemic issue for parish book groups, justice committees, or laypeople interested in an overview of where the church can go after such egregious harm.
It is best read in theological conversation with authors such as Julia Feder (Incarnating Grace: A Theology of Healing from Sexual Trauma, 2023), David Turnbloom (Liturgy in the Shadows of Trauma: Reckoning with the Roman Catholic Sex Abuse Crisis, 2025), my own work (Enfleshed Counter-Memory: A Christian Social Ethic of Trauma, 2024), and the recent edited volume from John Sheveland (Theology in a Post-Traumatic Church, 2023). It also has direct implications for feminist ecclesiology such as the monograph by Annie Selak (The Wounded Church: Tending to the Harm within Catholicism, 2026) and for church justice ministries such as that from Darryl W. Stephens (Trauma-Informed Christian Ethics: Bearing Witness through Love, Justice, and Solidarity in Community, 2026).
Theuring takes narrative seriously, clarifying our shared responsibility to build better stories from the truth of the gospel and for the future of the church. Naming the power of harmful atonement theories enmeshed with clericalism, Sacrifice Lost fights the “easy” hyper-individualization of suffering. Instead, Theuring names the uncomfortable, shameful, and frankly sinful ongoing crisis as one all the faithful are called to remedy.
