Minnesota Church Under Fire For Handling Of Child Sexual Abuse Allegations

Image: The Luther rose; via Wikipedia.

For nearly 20 years, law enforcement and former members say leaders of the Lutheran Church around Duluth knew that a congregant was repeatedly abusing children yet failed to alert authorities, an investigation by Minneapolis Star Tribune reporters co-published earlier today on ProPublica revealed.

Instead of informing police about the sexually abusive proclivities of congregant Clint Massie of the Old Apostolic Lutheran Church, preachers held what they called forgiveness sessions, where children were asked to sit with Massie, listen as he apologized and offer forgiveness in front of adults. In some cases, church leaders allowed physical contact between Massie and the children immediately afterward.

Court records show that concerns about Massie surfaced in Minnesota as early as 2017, when a young woman disclosed to a therapist that she had been abused as a child and the therapist notified police. She told investigators she had also reported the abuse years earlier to preachers, including Daryl Bruckelmyer, and that Massie had asked her forgiveness at a meeting arranged by church leaders. Investigators say her family eventually stopped cooperating with the criminal case after church leaders said Massie had “learned his lesson” and urged the family to move on. Prosecutors declined to file charges at that time because the victim no longer wanted to participate, a decision they later said still causes them “heartache.”

As more tips came in, detectives learned that the allegations against Massie stretched across multiple states and decades. Mothers in the tight knit congregation had quietly warned their daughters to stay away from him. Some former members say Massie’s behavior was treated as an open secret, even as he remained active in church life and around children. Church leaders told Massie to stay away from minors and referred him to a therapist who specialized in sexual offender treatment, but they did not notify law enforcement, even though mandated reporter laws require certain adults to report suspected abuse.

In interviews with investigators, Bruckelmyer acknowledged knowing about allegations that Massie had abused several girls and confirmed that forgiveness meetings took place. He told police that he believed it was up to victims to report crimes to law enforcement and suggested that church leaders were unsure whether they were legally required to report. Detectives later documented that they had read Minnesota’s mandated reporter statute to Bruckelmyer line by line and texted him the language, emphasizing that failure to report can itself be a crime when children remain at risk. Prosecutors ultimately decided not to pursue charges against church leaders, noting the difficulty of proving intentional failure to report and the expiration of the statute of limitations.

The criminal case against Massie gained momentum again in 2023, when another woman contacted the St. Louis County Sheriff’s Office to report that he had abused her repeatedly as a child. She said her family had gone to a preacher years earlier and had been told not to speak about it again. Investigators then contacted the earlier Minnesota victim, who agreed to participate despite her doubts that the system would protect her. According to case records, the women described similar patterns of abuse, followed by pressure from church leadership to forgive, stay silent and continue worshipping alongside Massie.

During a recorded interrogation, Massie first minimized the allegations as accidents but eventually admitted that he had been confronted several times by church leaders about inappropriate behavior with children. When asked how many young people might come forward, he responded, “I mean, there could be hundreds.” Law enforcement identified at least nine alleged victims whose experiences helped build the criminal case, though prosecutors could only charge three counts because of time limits in Minnesota and South Dakota law. In December 2024, Massie pleaded guilty to four counts of felony criminal sexual conduct involving victims under 13. In March 2025, a judge sentenced him to 7 and a half years in prison, rejecting a request for probation and noting that some supporters still insisted he had done nothing wrong.

Survivors say the harm extended well beyond the criminal charges. Several women told investigators and reporters that the church’s focus on silence and reconciliation left them feeling responsible for the abuse and cut off from family when they tried to step away from the congregation. Some described long term struggles with depression, anxiety, self blame and broken relationships. One survivor said she felt she had “lived in darkness” for years because she believed she could not speak about what happened without being accused of having an “unforgiving heart.”

The Old Apostolic Lutheran Church is a conservative Christian movement with roots in Scandinavia and congregations across the United States and Canada. It has no formal headquarters and relies on unpaid lay preachers who are chosen by their congregations. That decentralized structure makes accountability difficult, survivors and advocates say, because there is no central authority to investigate patterns or enforce child protection policies. A church spokesperson has said the church has complied with the law and declined further comment, while an attorney for the church has argued that mandated reporter requirements for unpaid preachers are unclear. Former members counter that the church’s culture of handling abuse internally has allowed patterns of harm to continue.

In addition to the criminal case, survivors have filed civil lawsuits against Massie and several Old Apostolic Lutheran entities, including congregations in South Dakota and the church body known as Old Apostolic Lutheran Church of America. These suits allege that the church failed to protect children, fostered a culture of secrecy and allowed Massie continued access to minors despite repeated warnings. The church has moved to dismiss some claims, arguing that courts lack jurisdiction over its national body and maintaining that it bears no legal responsibility for the criminal actions of an individual member. Survivors say those legal battles are part of a larger effort to hold institutions accountable for policies that, in their view, put children at risk to protect reputation and tradition.

As more former congregants come forward from Minnesota, South Dakota, Washington and other states, law enforcement officials have warned that failure to follow mandated reporting laws can expose children to further harm. Advocates say the Massie case highlights how forgiveness practices, when used without transparency and safety planning, can be distorted in ways that silence survivors and shield abusers. For many who grew up in the Old Apostolic Lutheran Church, the case has become a turning point, forcing difficult conversations about faith, authority and the duty to report suspected child abuse even when it means challenging beloved religious communities.