With Americans being told that "faith-based" social programs are the wave of the future, allegations of child abuse at one Atlanta church raise questions of oversight and respect for basic rights. Should tax money be used to support religious groups that employ "Bible discipline" and teach intolerance?

uthorities have taken 41 youngsters into protective custody and arrested seven adult members of an Atlanta, GA. church in what has turned out to be a major investigation of religion-linked child abuse.

   The allegations center on the House of Prayer, a 130-member congregation headed by Rev. Arthur Allen Jr. Last week, the story broke in the Atlanta Journal Constitution after social workers removed 19 children from the homes of three church members. It was learned that police and other investigators were probing reports "that church members systematically held down their children while beating them with belts and other objects -- allegedly under the direction of the past, the Rev. Arthur Allen."

   In 1993, Allen admitted in court his role in a beating which took place the previous year, when he ordered members of his congregation to whip a 16-year-old girl with belts and then taunt the bleeding youngster. The girl, Ivory Johnson, testified at the proceeding, "He (Allen) stood over me and said, 'I had you whining like a baby.'"

   Allen said that the youth had defied his authority, so she was "beaten into submission."

   Last Tuesday, Allen, 68, was again behind bars but was released the following day. Five other members of the congregation were also arrested, and a sixth turned herself in to authorities. The Constitution notes that two of the six church members charged were also convicted in the 1992 incident along with Rev. Allen.

   The children now in protective custody range in age from 5 months to 17 years. At a preliminary hearing, a police investigator testified that Allen directed regular beatings of children. The youngsters were tied up and suspended by their arms and hands, and "beaten with switches, sticks or belts." Photographs produced at the hearing showed welts on some of the victims, including one in the shape of a belt buckle.

   Investigators learned of the abuse on February 28, when a first-grader at an Atlanta elementary school complained about back pain. Welt marks were discovered on the child, and social service workers investigated. They then took the youngster, along with his sisters and three other children from another family and placed them in protective custody.

   Another possible victim, a 7-year-old, told police that his uncle whipped him with a "big switch" at the church while three other men restrained him. A police report on the incident shows that the beating resulted in bruising on his stomach and back. A 10-year-old boy recounted his whipping, as adult men in the congregation held his feet and arms while Rev. Allen supervised the procedure.

   One parent told the judge that the whippings had become so common that he had lost count of how many he had seen at Allen's church.

   Rev. Allen and most of his followers, though, denied any abuse and were described as "defiant" over the charges. "I've really been painted as a monster," He also defended his position on so-called "Bible discipline," and said that he takes a literal approach such as that found in Proverbs 23:13: "Withhold not correction from the child: for (if) thou beatest him with a rod, he shall not die."

"If you're going to give a meaningful lesson, give them (children) a meaningful lesson ... It's hard to give them a meaningful lesson without putting a mark on the child."

-- Rev. Arthur Allen, House of Prayer Church, Atlanta

   "If you're going to give a meaningful lesson," Allen said, "give them (children) a meaningful lesson ... It's hard to give them a meaningful whipping without putting a mark on the child."

   Whipping and beating appear to be themes which run throughout Allen's own life, not just those of the children under his cult-like control. He told the Atlanta paper that corporal punishment was frequent while he was growing up as a preacher's son, and that both parents whipped him, often with a belt. He added that he "loved them for it... I thank God. It didn't convert me but it slowed me down." A principal at the local high school often used a black strap, but "Even though he whipped us, we still loved him."

   Allen was ordained a Baptist minister in 1957 after serving in the Army during the Korean war, and returning home. He began his own church in 1966. Although he denies drawing a salary from the House of Prayer and says that he has made his living as a landscaper, he owns an apartment building and a land tract. He used the money from one real estate deal to purchase two acres of land across the street from his church, on which members of his congregation are invited to construct homes.

   He is also described as a preacher who wields considerable influence over his followers, and is intimately involved in many aspects of their lives. He added that he approves of marriages between older men in his church and women as young as 14; he told the Constitution that while Georgia law does not permit girls of that age to marry, Alabama does. Allen also opposes gay relationship, saying "their nature is backwards," as well as birth control and abortion. His position on disciplining of children is also clear, saying that corporal punishment is necessary to deal with recalcitrant youngsters who defy authority. "The Bible gives me the right," Allen said.

Constant references to prayer, whipping and 'discipline' loom large in both the words and practices of Rev. Allen

   One follower told the paper that she comes to Allen frequently for "counseling" and "guidance," adding "My pastor has better judgment than I have." Others, though, including former members of the House of Prayer say that Allen and his flock are a dysfunction group, preying on youngsters and others under the pretense of following Old Testament-style religion.

   Jason Bates used to attend Allen's church along with his mother and several siblings. Now, he says "I get nervous just talking about it."

   "He said his years at the church were filled with unexpected beatings, sermons laced with curse words and a stern sense or order," noted writer Michael Pearson.

   "They'd have kids back there lined up," for whipping says Bates, 19. "They'd beat them for every simple little thing they'd do. " Bates noted that his sister who was 12 at the time was whipped after Allen accused her of being a prostitute and told her, "You're used to men seeing you." Linda Bates, Jason's mother, took the family out of the church after Allen stopped her from visiting Jason in the hospital after he suffered injuries from a fire. "It was like a cult. He controlled everything..."

   The growing scandal over the Atlanta "horror church" comes as congress is debating new legislation to expand the range of subsidies for religious groups operating faith-based social programs, and increasing the role of religion in the public square. Recent legislation has immunized churches from a variety of state and federal laws. Last year, for instance, congress passed the Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act of 2000 which protects sectarian groups from many statutes and regulations pertaining to zoning and land utilization issues.

   The Atlanta case may raise questions about what sorts of groups government will fund in order to support faith-based social services. In Texas, controversy erupted over arrests at a youth home linked to "Bible discipline" evangelist Lester Roloff who, like Rev. Allen, was known for his stern policies in dealing with juveniles. Roloff, who died in an air crash in 1982, established a network of compounds throughout Texas, Arizona, Georgia and Mississippi for wayward youngsters, some of whom were sent to Roloff facilities by juvenile courts. His punitive child-control measures resulted in investigations, police raids and news probes, which continue to the present day.

   As Texas Governor, George W. Bush helped form a private corporation, the Texas Association of Christian Child Care Agencies, Inc. presumably to monitor and "certify" private religion-based youth facilities. The Roloff home in Texas, though, was the only facility the corporation bothered to license, and the director of the Roloff facility also served on the board of TACCCA. When arrests over abuse charges at the home were made last spring, Texas State Sen. John Whitmire raised the question of how far the state could go in trying to trying to prevent abuse of children at religious schools and other facilities. He cited the Roloff "home" and the Branch Davidian Compound in Waco as examples.

   With the drive to subsidize religious groups providing a vast array of social services, including those which bring them into regular contact with children, questions arise about how far government agencies would go in protecting the rights of youngsters, and preventing "Bible discipline" and related corporal punishment.

[text only]