Guest Post: Due Process…Denied

Guest Post by Jodi

Photo by Tingey Injury Law Firm on Unsplash

Years ago, I worked for a large company where I was part of a union. I never thought I’d need that union—until the day I did. After five years of loyal service, I was called into a meeting with my supervisor. I was told there would be others present, but not who they were. I wasn’t concerned—I hadn’t done anything wrong.

When I arrived, I was introduced to two people from headquarters and a union representative “for me”—a friend, though we’d never discussed anything related to this meeting. From the moment it began, it was clear something was off. I was bombarded with questions about my personal life, distant work history, and irrelevant details I couldn’t possibly remember. Any hesitation on my part was met with eye rolls and judgment—not just from management, but also from my supposed advocate. I was blindsided with accusations of unethical behavior, with no prior warning, and the decision had clearly already been made. A different supervisor—one I had never worked with—offered me two options: resign or be fired. Cornered and forced to make an instant decision, I chose to resign. I left with confusion and shame—but not guilt, because I knew I had done nothing wrong.

Months later, I ran into that second supervisor. He had since been fired and shared what really happened: the agency was overstaffed, and leadership needed to downsize. I had been chosen as collateral damage. Nothing I could’ve said or done in that meeting would’ve mattered. He had been a pawn, too—forced to deliver the blow or face termination himself, which eventually came anyway.

I often think of that experience when I hear about church disciplinary councils. I’ve never been through one personally, but I’ve watched many friends and family members suffer through them—shamed, excluded, and ultimately silenced. In the words of one friend whose husband was excommunicated, “It was awful. The entire process is f@cked up and there is no Jesus in it, but I hope it will bring him back to the church somehow.” Should a church that claims to be Christ’s church be treating its members this way?

In these councils, there is no true advocate for the accused. Maybe a letter of support is allowed. Maybe a friend can attend—though often not even that. If excommunication is the outcome, there’s no true appeal process, no defense, no space for nuance. Much like my own experience, the decision is often made before the meeting begins.

Imagine a court of law where the prosecutor, defense attorney, jury foreman, and judge were all the same person. That’s effectively how church discipline functions: the stake president investigates, prosecutes, claims to defend, influences the vote, and delivers the final verdict. Ultimately he represents the church—its reputation, its image, its agenda—not the individual. The illusion of fairness hides a system built to protect the institution, not the person.

In my friend’s case, her hope that excommunication will spark change is rooted in fear and conditioning. Sure, spanking may stop a toddler’s behavior—but what does it teach? That love is conditional? That power wins?

Disciplinary councils are not redemptive. They are controlling and coercive. Just like the meeting that ended my job, they strip people of dignity under the pretense of due process. I look forward to the day this practice is abolished. Until then, I hope more members put in this situation can find the courage to simply say “No”—to refuse to take part in something so clearly unjust, unkind, and un-Christlike.

Jodi is a mom of 6, Gigi of 3 1/2, and lifelong truth-seeker who values compassion, joy, and standing up for what’s right—even when it’s hard