Why We Talk About Hell, but Stay Silent About Rape

There’s something I’ve always found interesting—maybe even a little contradictory.

In church, we don’t shy away from talking about hell. It’s a heavy topic. It’s uncomfortable. It can be scary. Yet many believe it’s necessary to talk about it because it’s “real,” because it has consequences, and because people deserve to know the truth so they can make informed choices.

But when it comes to talking to children about rape or sexual harm, suddenly the conversation becomes too uncomfortable, too inappropriate, or too much.

That makes me pause.

If the goal of teaching about hell is preparation—so someone isn’t caught off guard by reality—why doesn’t that same logic apply to protecting children from harm in the real world?

Children need awareness. If a child can comprehend hell/sin then they can comprehend sexual abuse too! I got saved at age 10 years old and comprehended very well, I wasn’t scared of the reality that not following God led to hell, I understood it as the reality it is and it led me to make the proper decision, not out of fear, but because I knew what I wanted, even though I was so young!

Kids must know that the world isn’t always kind. It isn’t always safe. And silence doesn’t shield anyone—it just leaves them unprepared.

We teach kids how to cross the street before they ever get hit by a car. We teach them not to talk to strangers before something bad happens. Not because we expect danger, but because we understand that knowledge can be a form of protection.

So why should bodily safety be treated differently?

A child knowing, “My body belongs to me,” or “If someone makes me uncomfortable, I can tell a trusted adult,” isn’t corrupting them. It’s empowering them.

In the same way faith teaches people about choices, consequences, and spiritual realities, we can also teach children about boundaries, voice, and safety. Both are about preparation, not fear.

Some people worry that talking about these things will take away innocence. But I wonder if what we call “innocence” sometimes becomes vulnerability.

Because the truth is, whether we talk about it or not, harm still exists. Silence doesn’t make it disappear.

What if the church became a place where wisdom and protection walked hand in hand with faith?
Where difficult conversations weren’t avoided, but handled with care, compassion, and courage?

Maybe then, being “better safe than sorry” wouldn’t just apply to the soul—but to the body, the mind, and the heart too. God wants people to know the truth about hell and being eternally separated from him, so I believe he wants people to know the truth about sexual abuse too!