In the wake of the Feb. 25 arrest in the BTK case in Wichita — and the revelation that the suspect, Dennis Rader, is president of his church council — many stunned Kansans are struggling with the question “How is it possible?”

How is it possible that Rader, by all outward appearances a faithful Christian and active at all levels of his congregation, could also prove to be the notorious serial killer who taunted and terrorized a city for three decades?

The possibility that Rader was in fact a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a man living behind a mask of faith that concealed a monstrous secret life, raises profound questions about the nature of evil and the mystery that ultimately lies at the heart of every human being.

Some of those troubling questions have theological implications. How is it seemingly possible for the religious impulse and evil actions to co-exist in the same human being? Do horrible, ongoing deeds rule out the possibility of a real connection to God? And does God still love the BTK suspect?

But theologians aren’t the only ones trying to figure out how a churchgoing man — in fact, the church council leader — could also be the man charged with 10 murders. Pastors, psychologists and experts on the criminal mind seek answers, too.

They’re among millions of Americans who are captivated by this stark example of a person leading a life outwardly devoted to faith and inwardly to radical evil.

Dark secrets

Is it possible that Dennis Rader is a religious man?

And if so, how on earth might he have been able to carry out these crimes?

Gerald Mansholt, bishop of the Central States Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, is interviewed by the media after a church service at Christ Lutheran Church in Wichita. Dennis Rader, a suspect in the BTK killings, is a member of the church.

“I’m not sure anybody can really answer that question,” said Paul Cromwell, professor of criminal justice and director of the community affairs school at

Wichita State University. “It’s hard to understand how a person could have a sincere faith life and at the same time be killing people on the side.”

Cromwell created and taught a class called “Serial Killers” for two semesters at Wichita State. It’s now taught by Lt. Ken Landwehr, lead detective on the BTK murder investigation.

The fact that the BTK suspect turned out to be a leader of his church didn’t shock Cromwell.

“Some criminals have been able to compartmentalize their behavior. I think that’s pretty true. He’s (Rader) not all that unusual,” Cromwell said.

“If you look at somebody like John Wayne Gacy, who killed 31 or so teenage boys, he was a volunteer at the hospital, a volunteer in the community, (involved with) Boy Scouts, politically active. The guy was well liked and respected, and yet he killed 31 young men and buried them under his house.”

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It’s possible that Rader’s participation at church was sincere, motivated by a sense of true belief, he said.

“I find it hard to believe that he was faking this all the time. I simply believe he was able to compartmentalize his activities. I’m not a psychologist; I’m just taking a shot here,” Cromwell said. “You don’t carry on a double life for all of these years without at least believing in it to some extent. You can act in a fake way only so long. Then after a while, it has to become a part of your life.”

On the other hand, sociopaths and others with anti-social personalities — Cromwell speculated that Rader falls into this category — excel at faking concern and compassion, while blending in with everyone else. In one way, Rader’s behavior was surpassingly common. Like most people, he had his secrets.

“All of us have something deep inside that we don’t share with the rest of the world,” Cromwell said. “Hopefully, it’s not as dark as Dennis Rader’s.”

Church as cover

Tony Ruark may have some insight into the mind of the accused serial killer.

Ruark, a Wichita psychologist, consulted with police on the BTK case from 1979 to 1981.

Rader likely suffers from an extreme anti-social personality disorder, he said.

If Rader really is BTK, then he’s a person “that has no guilt about his crimes. No conscience whatsoever,” said Ruark, now an administrator with the Wichita Child Guidance Center. “When you can do this kind of thing over and over without hesitation and then brag about it, that’s (having) no conscience. That’s a real serious anti-social personality.”

It’s not unusual that the BTK suspect led a double life. Many sociopaths display that ability, according to Ruark.

“The bright ones, those are folks who can fake it. They can look very concerned or compassionate to others. It’s the old used-car salesman syndrome — you can come across to others however you want to,” he said.

Rader was hiding in plain sight, leading a life that appeared beyond suspicion. He likely used his role in church to his advantage.

“What is a better cover for criminal behavior than active community and church involvement?” Ruark asked. “Rader was considered a real pillar of his community, a leader in his church, a respectable position of employment. That’s a wonderful cover for somebody who has a secret life in another direction.

“I would guess that he probably has some sincere beliefs in that area (religion), but they could not — because of his anti-social tendencies — inhibit him from doing these heinous acts. That’s just a guess.”

Coping with evil impulses

Why were people so surprised to learn that the BTK suspect was a church leader?

The Rev. Richard Randolph, an assistant professor of Christian ethics at St. Paul School of Theology in Kansas City, Mo., offered his interpretation.

“I guess I would say there’s two levels of shock here. If you tell me this guy lives a distinctly un-Christian lifestyle, (that) he did these things, the brutality and inhumanness of these acts are shocking,” said Randolph, an ordained Methodist minister.

“On top of that, when you find out how active he was in his congregation, it’s a double shock.”

Randolph hastened to add a point that, he said, ministers have been stressing for years.

“Churches are not made up of saints. They’re made up of finite human beings, all of whom have faults and sins. And we’ve seen this in different ways within the Christian church, (such as) sexual improprieties of clergy,” he said.

“It’s important to see the church for what it is. It’s neither all BTK killers nor all saints. When we see something like this episode, it’s important to remember that there are many people in the church who are doing their best to work for God and be faithful to God.”

Nancy Howell, a professor of theology and philosophy of religion at St. Paul School of Theology, explained how it’s seemingly possible for the religious impulse to co-exist with ongoing evil inside the same person.

“Humans have remarkable capacities to accomplish good and just acts but similarly have as much capacity to imagine and create acts of evil toward each other, nature and God,” she said. “The potential for good and evil co-exists in all of us. Sometimes persons who struggle between impulses for good and evil seek the church as a place to encourage the good and help cope with the evil impulses.”