One of the perennial questions in all the discussions about safeguarding, in whatever context, is how to establish exactly who are the ‘vulnerable adults’ to be protected from harm. No one argues against the idea that all children under 18 should be always regarded as vulnerable.  Children need constant protection from any adults who might wish them harm of some kind.   However, the creation of a fixed boundary between those under and those over 18 will often feel arbitrary and unsatisfactory.  Men and women do not suddenly acquire wisdom and the ability to protect themselves after reaching a particular birthday.  Thus, we have, in law and in the regulations that apply to social care, further attempts to describe the idea of vulnerability as it might apply to adults who have passed their 18^th birthday.   Without repeating these definitions, a vulnerable adult is any individual who is considered in need of an appropriate level of social or legal protection because of some mental or physical affliction.  In many cases the existence of vulnerability is clear to the observer.  The legal system does not pursue a case against someone who is deemed ‘unfit to plead’.  Social workers become involved with other manifestations of vulnerability in parents, where their children are clearly uncared for, physically or mentally.   Formal definitions of who is considered a vulnerable adult can easily be found through a google search.  These definitions are going to be similar whether we encounter them in a social work context or in the setting of a church.  Such definitions are fairly limited; some examples of what we might think should be regarded as coming into this category from a common-sense perspective are excluded.  Is the adult brought up in extreme poverty and only able to survive through shop lifting to be judged in precisely the same way as someone who commits the same crime in a position of affluence?  Vulnerability can be experienced in a whole host of contexts and the official definitions can only capture part of the reality.  Every adult may also enter an experience of vulnerability at some stage in their lives. It is not a question of a fixed character trait; it may be one of situation and circumstance.  An obvious and clear example I can mention is to say that any individual who suffers bereavement and the loss of a partner should be considered vulnerable.  There are other displays of mental affliction, like severe depression, which affect judgement and decision making.  Whatever definitions are offered us in official government documents and the safeguarding literature, vulnerability is probably a characteristic of every human being at some point in their lives. Instead of attempting to define the meaning of vulnerability, perhaps we should show the qualities of an individual who has been taught how to flourish and be able, as the Prayer Book puts it in prayer for the Sovereign, ‘to have a right judgment in all things’.  I would like to see a list of definitions as to what to look for in the fully functioning human being who has achieved the stage of not in any way deserving the description of ‘vulnerable’.  These definitions would probably only apply to a relatively small group.

I have recently come across a collection of online videos produced by a filmmaker Sam Howson who has had years of experience in the evangelical/charismatic world. He recognises and discusses the dilemmas faced by this culture and he says some interesting things about the ministry of Mike Pilavachi.   Among the useful insights shared by Howson is summed up in a two-word heading – Adult Grooming.  Grooming, the gradual building up of a trusting but potentially exploitable bonding by one who is powerful with another who is less powerful, is a well-understood dynamic in abusive relationships.  Most people can see that the victim of such a relationship is clearly ‘vulnerable’, and Howson shows how the victims of grooming come from right across the age spectrum.  In short, anyone can be made vulnerable when leaders, skilled in the art of grooming, direct these abilities on to another human being.    

So far, we have identified three groups of people with different relationships to vulnerability.  The first group are those that society and the caring professions identify as lacking agency and are in some way in need of care and protection.  This group would include the sick, the frail and all children under 18, Then there is another group which consists of people who are the self-sufficient types.  This group manage their lives with strength and confidence and make a point of refusing to admit any degree of vulnerability in their lives.  This relatively small group are typically found among the leaders in an organisation like the Church.  They have been conditioned by their social and educational background to believe that any sign of vulnerability is also sign of weakness and thus incompatible with the status of a leader.  They thus put themselves above the experience of vulnerable individuals and simultaneously resist experiencing any identification with them.  Is this disavowal of the survivor’s experience in church context on the part of leaders, and so frequently complained about by them, part of the psychological profile of the church leaders who deal insensitively with survivors?  Is this another aspect of the narcissism that we have claimed is so rampant among the ‘ruling elite’ who manage our church but seem so disconnected from the pain and grief of those who have suffered abuse at the hands of church servants.

The third category of the ‘vulnerable’ are the bulk of church members.  They are not formally vulnerable or among the abused or damaged in some way; rather they recognise that they are, together with the vast majority, susceptible in some situations to bullying, controlling techniques like grooming or other forms of abuse.  They are vulnerable in the sense that they have no built-in methods of complete protection from such behaviour.  They may have some self-protection techniques, such as a degree of institutional status.  This may not prove to be sufficient to see off the groomer, the manipulator or the bully.  The victim will not aways have the right words or support to help them emerge unscathed from someone else’s bad behaviour.   The group of ‘vulnerable’ adults that Howson is especially referring to in his videos are young people who have been manipulated by well-established group techniques of crowd control.  There are also widely used methods of using music to render individuals open to particular mood states.  Those of us outside this culture of charismatic ‘worship’ have surely good reason to ask about this style of music.  Is this music directing a highly susceptible (vulnerable) congregation to find God or is it somehow cementing the control of a leader over a large group of young people? In criticising a figure like Mike Pilavachi, one would welcome far more informed discussion about the part music plays in creating a vulnerability to different forms of manipulation.   If there is a form of control being exercised at such events as Soul Survivor; is it not about time that some expressions of worship were examined and understood as grooming and thus a safeguarding matter?

Howson’s reference to ‘grooming adults’ seems to be saying, as I have been, that control in a negative sense is a risk for far more people than just for those who are officially labelled as vulnerable.  Most people are vulnerable at some point in their lives.  This potentiality for being vulnerable goes up exponentially when they enter a crowd situation, skilfully manipulated by a toxic narcissistic leader. We need to understand these dynamics far better that we do as they flow through ordinary and charismatic churches alike.  Ordinary Christians are convinced, often after minimal reflection, that the music and charged atmosphere in a church gathering is inevitably the work of God.  There is no questioning or doubting. The lack of any scrutiny as to what is going on, makes these congregations vulnerable in a dangerous sense. Without scrutiny many Christians of the student generation become susceptible to grooming.  They are thus ripe for emotional, financial or even sexual abuse.  The tools of discernment are currently needed more than ever before.  Unless the Pilavachis, Fletchers and Balls are called out and named before they wreak havoc, ordinary Christians will continue to be in danger and the church is everywhere weakened and discredited with the wider public. Each church scandal that appears in the pages of the Daily Telegraph inevitably weakens the church’s witness, and the power to transform society retreats further from the realms of possibility.

To conclude.   Sam Howson is helping us to see more clearly that grooming and other forms of manipulation are a potential threat to large numbers of ordinary church members. While most church congregations are led by individuals of the highest integrity and skill, the recent decades have revealed examples of the dangerous havoc wreaked on ordinary congregations by leaders interested in wielding power.  Their victims would never normally have been considered vulnerable, but opportunistic leaders have made them so.  We note that the particular group most in danger of becoming vulnerable to malign activity of maverick leaders are the student population that are drawn to crowded ‘successful’ churches in the university cities of Britain.  Historically speaking, this group seems to have suffered the most from predatory power-hungry leaders. The protection of this cohort from such exploitation, before it happens, should be the priority of older church leaders who have acquired wisdom and maturity through having moved in many settings and have learnt to identify the wholesome from what may be toxic and abusive.