Writing a blog post fairly regularly means that I get an opportunity to clarify my thinking about the future of the Church. As a retired member of the clergy, I probably should be doing the opposite – standing well back, stopping my subscription to the Church Times and letting the Church sort itself out without any comment from me. What, after all, can one person do to influence an institution that I have not been a working part of for almost 20 years?
Surviving Church is a project that has evolved over the six and a half years it has been functioning. It began by supporting a handful of survivors who had been through negative church experiences as a part of charismatic Christian groups. The blog set out the material that I was discovering in preparing papers for an organisation I am part of, the International Cultic Studies Association. (ICSA). Chris Pitt’s story, which we looked in the early days, was not vastly different from the accounts of those who had spent a long time in a cult. As time went on, I found myself encountering new varieties of survivor, especially sexual and spiritual abuse victims. Survivors were beginning to find me and my blog posts had then to try to reflect their issues and concerns. Just as the nature of abuse being looked at was changing, so were the settings in which these abuses were taking place. I began to understand better the way that some schools, universities and summer camps were facilitating abuses. Abuse was not just about one person misbehaving but about networks sometimes colluding to misuse power and harm and damage individuals at the behest or control of a leader. I started to see that abuse in its various forms was like a cancer, which could threaten and undermine the integrity and health of large swathes of the Church.
Since around 2015, at a time when a variety of public institutions began to face up to the issue of abuse, the evident lack of expertise in the Church to deal with the abuse problems has become clear. The scale of historical incompetence and bungling among Church of England leaders was especially evident at the IICSA hearings in 2018-2019. Back in 2015 a large 300,000-word report was published about a non-Anglican church in Brentwood, detailing ghastly forms of bullying and abuse against church members. Using the theoretical resources and insights of the cult study network, ICSA, I offered through this blog extensive commentary on this report. I even considered making the material the subject for a book. Somehow that moment passed, particularly as there were other abuse reports clamouring to be read and commented on. We had the Elliott report and the Gibb report and there were various other indications that the Church of England was beginning to take seriously the need to respond to historic abuse against individuals. Bishops were constantly heard to say that survivors were at the centre of their concern. The post- Savile era and the way that this scandal had alerted wider public opinion to the dangers of sexual abuse of children, was also putting pressure on senior church leaders in every denomination to listen carefully to what was being told them by their members about sexual abuse.
In the past two or three weeks this blog has seen a crescendo of activity as once again the Fletcher story, first publicised last June, has burst into public awareness. An additional level of public interest in the overall topic will be sustained over the next week with two hours of television coverage of the Ball episode. These constant proddings of public attention will not do the Church of England any favours. What more should we saying about this situation that the entire Church of England faces at the beginning of 2020? In trying to offer a personal response to this question, I accept the fact that over the time span of the blog’s history, I have become not just a reporter but an active supporter of the victims of the misuse of power.
The Challenges of 2020
- There still exist a large and unknown number of ‘survivors’, victims of abuse within the churches. Even if there were only one such person, church authorities have a moral obligation to do all in their power to help them.
- Many of these survivors are invisible. They have effectively been banished from sight because they cannot live with the shame of their abuse in public view. Many of them are afflicted by financial hardship because of the abuse in addition to ongoing mental or physical illnesses. Relationships have often been blighted. The compassionate reaching out to these individuals is an on-going and probably never-ending task.
- Among the survivors are some brave individuals who have openly challenged the structures of the Church in their search for some recognition of their stories. This emerging from the shadows to challenge and question the Church does not relieve their pain in any way. It makes it more acute. Some, like Matt Ineson and Gilo, have achieved visibility and are known to the media. From the perspective of the bishops and other officials these survivors are probably regarded as nuisances and time wasters. From the perspective of the as-yet silent survivors, they are heroes and they speak for many who are unknown.
Why do I take the side of the survivors, both the ‘nuisance’ ones and the silent ones? One answer to this question, beyond the desire for justice, is that I see that the Church of England (and the other churches no doubt) has a problem with power and its management. The cases of abuse, as exemplified by the stories of Peter Ball and Jonathan Fletcher, are not merely, or even mainly, about sex, but the outworking of long-term dysfunctions of power-structures. These have privileged certain groups at the expense of others. Sorting out the crisis of past abuse cases is also about sorting out historically embedded biases against women, the poor, children and other people from different minority backgrounds. I do not presume to be able to suggest easy answers to any of these problems. What I do know is that there is an immediate issue which is to do right by survivors. Every day the Church expends its energy in fighting or ignoring survivors and denying them a proper voice, it depletes itself in the eyes of British society and a fair-minded public. The Church of England, in other words, is rapidly losing its credibility over this one issue. Am I only one who feels a severe mismatch between New Year messages about communication from our Church leaders and serious deficits of communication between the Church and the suffering survivors? We need action. We need a new attempt and a new energy to ‘act justly… and walk humbly before your God’. Words and promises are no longer sufficient.
The healing of the needs of abuse survivors will only happen when the Church takes a completely fresh look at its understanding of power. It needs to hear again what Jesus himself had to say about power. Those passages that speak about service, the disowning of privilege and elitism are freely accessible to the reader. Both those on the outside and those within might value the sight of the Church going into the desert with Jesus and relearning the true nature of power for our new decade.
Thank you for this characteristically cogent piece (and, indeed, for all the work you and others have done in imparting and clarifying the issues associated with past and current abuse cases).
You write, ‘The Church of England, in other words, is rapidly losing its credibility over this one issue.’ Yes this is right to some extent, but as I see it the Church – indeed all churches – have already lost almost all credibility with the mass of the public. This is because the claims of the gospels, insofar as they are understood at all, are seen as being inherently absurd and irrational, and of scant value to modern life. If a person stakes a claim for Christianity s/he will be presumed to be an idiot, if not malevolent to some extent. For all its value to Christians, the Word is, I fear, insufficiently compelling to most people even when they get to hear it.
Rather the litany of abuse claims have really provided confirmation to that great mass of the population who believe that organised religion is essentially an ornate but sinister form of social control, quite apart from their presumption that religion has no value. Indeed, I suspect that many will rejoice in the revelation of abuse claims, because they will see it as hastening the final demise of the churches.
The problem is that they are often right: Christianity has been, to a great extent, a form of social control. Pagan rulers adopted it, with varying degrees of apprehension, because the Church was the ‘corpse of the Roman empire’ which they had settled chiefly because they had wanted their share of its prosperity and culture (destroying it in the process); they did so to lend themselves respectability or because they attributed their transient military success to divine favour. The conversion of western Europe, and elsewhere, was invariably a top-down affair. The Church was, from the outset of its success, enmeshed with landed power structures; it affirmed inequalities by promising equity only in an unverifiable afterlife. The growth of mass consumerism and participatory democracy have called time on the Church and other forms of traditional social control (though often by substituting new and no less insidious forms of mind control for the old).
You suggest that the Church needs time ‘in the desert’; I suspect that a large section of the population would like it to stay there.
As a theist (and orthodox Christian) I find these developments distressing; I pray for revival, but strongly suspect that the likelihood of it happening is very remote. To me the chief prospective value of the churches are as forms of social insurance as state welfare comes under increasing strain; communities may need churches and other forms of private collective action in years to come as coming generations of DC pensioners run out of money (collective insurance being cheaper than self-insurance); my worry is that most churches will be extinct by the time this existential need becomes most…
pressing.
Thanks, Froghole. And thanks Stephen. I suspect things will get lively here next week when the programme on Peter Ball is televised.
You seem particularly suited to this work, Stephen. Some would say it were a “calling”!
Books are good and I enjoy a great many but this is a peculiar and valuable niche resource.
In tackling many thorny issues here, you perhaps unwittingly provide good leadership, and combine this with the momentum of regular articles.
I don’t know for sure, but I sense that the blog’s readership is growing. New names keep cropping up, both real and pseudonymous.
I personally admire the good grace with which you treat contributors, particularly those like me who have a tendency to blather on. I imagine it’s just like chairing a parish meeting.
Of vital importance is the increasing exposure of abuse. Individually we may never get justice, but collectively again I sense things are changing for the better. You must share some credit for this in my opinion.
No one knows when to retire any more. Sure the job ended officially decades ago, but your work continues with good effect. My own take on this is: use it or lose it, whatever “it” is.
Anyway, this was my long-winded way of saying Thank You!
Thank you Stephen. I for one am grateful that you continue to champion survivors voices, both vocal and silent ones. We really need champions.
Sadly I think Froghole you’re right that the church is just confirming the public’s low opinion. My atheist partner is convinced the church is institutionally abusive, and most responses to my and others’ cases have confirmed that.
I think it can only change now if we come together. We need people across the church, survivors, bishops, young people, clergy, families, lawyers, to stop seeing each other as the enemy and unite to work on common goals for positive change. That can’t happen while people ignore, rubbish or condemn each other. And the leadership have to take a lead here, and it has to be democratic and be seen to be done.
Thank you. It is good to have words of appreciation. Steve. The blog does seem to have elements of vocation. Every time I think I have nothing further something comes up. I am reflecting today on the witnesses of the Harvey Weinstein trial. I am comparing them with the brave witnesses we have among us, some of whom I have the privilege to know. Something will appear at lunchtime or before.
Froghole has given us the best brief summary of the state and likely future of the CoE that I’ve ever read. Thank you Froghole, and thank you Stephen. I’ve tried to write similar pieces on my blog but they too quickly become emotional (nothing wrong with that in the right place, though). My impression from listening to other clergy is that most of them interact only with members of the club so they have no idea of how we are perceived. Many of them seem to think that the views of their congregations accurately reflect the views of society as a whole. I retired 11 weeks ago since when my frustration and anger with the institution has meant that I’ve not set foot inside a church. It feels a bit like PTSD from which I need to recover. Jane Chevous writes that for healing “the leadership have to take a lead”. Yes indeed. The trouble is that they’re too busy feeling sorry for themselves.
It may not be a disease or a syndrome, but it’s definitely stress caused by a trauma! Talking about it is the best help. And the sooner the better, or it goes septic! All the best, Stanley.
Having been subject recently to the abuse of a priest in the Church of Wales who is a narcissistic I have been forced to consider very deeply what I am supporting.
I must thank you for your many interesting articles and wanted to simply comment as someone who has tremendous faith, but has walked away from the institution. What is clear is that the greatest gift technology has given us is the ability to access information like your own. We no longer have to be isolated.
I have found like many that entering the ministry is no longer a calling it is either a career or provides an environment where the mentally challenged can carry out some pretty damaging practices. Unlike many other organisations the Church is free of many legal responsibilities and frankly those that seek to harm others know its one of the final stamping grounds available to them.
Added to this the hierarchy are out of touch with normal people and the challenges of daily living. So they carry on unable despite having the greatest power on earth on their side loosing souls. So to compensate they focus on growing wealth rather than spiritual richness.
This in turn makes most of us realise actually this is a business and as such we expect protection. They have turned the Church in to something we live with daily so in return we expect the laws of the land on abuse to be protect us and for the church to be mindful in identifying and dealing with people problems quickly.
When its not and you realise they have no sense of responsibility or a legal structure to protect you then like a bad employee your conditioned to walk away.
The only way to solve all of this is not to attend so that they are all closed within the next generation and hopefully the buildings and the wealth within their charity will be returned to where it belongs – the poor.
Thank you for speaking out Angela!
Angela I am very sorry for what happened to you. I hope you have found some support and healing.
It’s heartbreaking really to read what you say about the church needing to die to be revived, although I understand why and have been in that place myself.
I hope you are wrong but I fear you are right.
Meanwhile yes oh yes, the solidarity here is a welcome light in the darkness.
It’s the power of that thing, I see you.
We’re recognised and no longer alone.