Judgment day came early for David Dewees. After years of popularity and effective work with young people, the 32-year-old schoolteacher and longtime volunteer leader at a Christian camp found himself in the headlines for all the wrong reasons. Less than 48 hours later, he was dead—unable to live with the humiliation of allegedly betraying his trust.
Here are the bare essentials of a very sad story. On October 1, Toronto police arrested and formally charged the Grade 10 teacher with two counts of invitation to sexual touching and luring. According to reports, he made sexually inappropriate e-mail contact with two boys under the age of 16 whom he met through his association with Ontario Pioneer Camp, run by Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship.
In a statement, IVCF president Geri Rodman reported that the organization followed protocol when camp leaders first became aware of the allegations in mid-August. They met with Dewees, "advised him of the situation, terminated his services....[and] notified the boys' families, along with local police." After an October 2 court hearing, Dewees was released on bail, suspended from his teaching job, prohibited from using a computer and ordered to stay away from areas with children. His photo and details of the charges were widely publicized in newspapers and on web sites.
Apparently the notoriety was too much for a young man who previously enjoyed a sterling reputation. On the morning of October 3, he took his own life, reportedly laying his body on the tracks in front of a Toronto subway train. "We are profoundly saddened," says Rodman, inviting prayer "for all those impacted by these tragic circumstances."
These are indeed tragic circumstances. Sin abounds at all times, but sometimes it rears its harmful head in particularly devastating ways. This is one of those times.
The only good news to extract from this distressing story is that all concerned—camp, police, courts, media—are keen to ensure the safety of children. Virtually everyone agrees it's a terrible thing to use the power and prestige of adulthood to exploit young people. The Bible makes the point chillingly when it warns, "It would be better for you if a millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea than for you to cause one of these little ones to stumble" (Luke 17:2).
And what a millstone it turned out to be for Dewees. Who can doubt that the burden of shame laid upon him was simply greater than he was able to bear? The man had many friends and admirers, but the utter disgrace of his circumstances outweighed any hopes of grace he might have harboured. Now there is no chance for him to be restored, and the extent of his guilt or innocence will never be properly known.
The shaming of David Dewees offers a cautionary tale for even the most virtuous human being. This is what can happen when some sordid small corner of the soul gets exposed to the world as one's primary identity.
Is there any among us who could stand unashamed under spotlight scrutiny and blazing media attention to every aspect of our life and character? Not likely. Like alcohol-imbibing drivers who manage to avoid breathalyzers and accidents, it's a mercy that most of us emerge relatively unscathed from our transgressions almost all the time. But every once in a while, judgment comes hard, heavy and immediate.
A day is coming when we will be held accountable for the conduct of our lives. "But who can endure the day of His coming, and who can stand when He appears?" (Malachi 3:2). The prophet's question is rhetorical. The bottom line is that we all need a Saviour. No one of us can bear the full burden of the consequence of our sins. Christ, have mercy.