Some years ago, I wrote a blog post on the topic of power and patronage as they apply to church and society.  This theme was on my mind because I was then preparing to give a talk on Joan of Arc and asking some questions about the enthusiasm she was able to inspire and share among her followers.  One point that had to be made was that Joan was only able to do what she did, and gain an army to pursue her vision, because a member of the French nobility was prepared to back her.  Without this aristocratic patronage, her cause would never have got under way.  Joan was considered low-born, and she needed the affirmation of someone born to power and authority to set her up in her brief but unexpectedly dramatic successes on the battlefield against the English occupiers. 

Patronage is an interesting word.  It describes the dynamic in the way a rich powerful individual can share some of that power, with a chosen few, in a social rank below them. Unless an individual were born into the very highest rank of a society, he/she would have to wait on others, considered their social superiors, to notice them and help them to achieve a better status or rank than the one they presently enjoyed. The patronage to be handed out by the high-born was very real and potentially life-changing for the recipient.  A great deal of effort went into trying to access it by trying to be agreeable to, as well as noticed by, those who possess it.   From a percentage perspective, only a few would be successful in gaining the attention and favour they sought.  The agony and possibly life-changing ecstasy of a successful pursuit of ecclesiastical patronage by poor clergy is a constant sub-plot in both Jane Austen’s and Anthony Trollope’s 19^th century novels.  Even today it can be said to exist in the C/E, but the financial dimension that used to mesmerise the ‘lower’ clergy is less important than it once was.

The recent discussion of abuse allegations against the late David Fletcher on Channel 4 News, has reminded me of the considerable importance that patronage plays in the Church of England, even now.   It would be hard to find another individual in the con-evo network who seems to have once had as much ‘patronage power’ as the Honourable David Clare Molyneux Fletcher. Apart from his role as organiser of the Iwerne Camps for a dozen years after 1965, he seems, in his heyday, to have known absolutely everyone in the con-evo world within the C/E.  David Fletcher would have had an immense amount of personal information about dozens of potential applicants for ecclesiastical preferment within the con-evo network. To obtain preferment to any leadership role in one of these wealthy con-evo parishes in England, a young man would typically have attended the right school, the right theological college and volunteered for service in the summer camps at Iwerne.  As the full-time leader of these Iwerne camps for 12 years, David possessed an unrivalled acquaintance of everyone in the con-evo world for over thirty years and, according to Makin, also got to know early on more about the criminal activities of John Smyth than anyone else. As the one entrusted with furthering the vision of E J Nash (Bash) to convert the elite of Britain, he had the task of spotting and encouraging future leaders who would be able to take the ‘work’ forward.  David seems to have taken very seriously this selection and mentoring of those who were deemed suitable for leadership roles in the part of the C/E that shared this theological vision of Bash. After 12 years in this role as the Iwerne leader, David would have known about the details of the personal lives of every single young man passing through the camp system.  With this extensive personal knowledge about so many, David (and his influential brother Jonathan) would, at the very least, always been consulted to offer an opinion on which candidates deserved promotion.  While we obviously cannot claim to understand how the system of patronage worked in detail, it is clear from a study of Crockford that few outsiders were ever able to penetrate the charmed circle of those who ‘belonged’ to the ex-public school elite inner Iwerne ring.  The system of patronage seems to have operated from the day the young man was invited to a summer camp at Iwerne.  Those who chose to be ordained had then to compete to be placed in one of the prestigious evangelical parishes as curates.  Young Iwerne graduates often stayed as assistant curates within one of these parishes for up to 15 years, waiting for the patronage system to pick them to be a Vicar of an internationally known con-evo parish and thus one of the evangelical celebrities.  The main con-evo parishes in England have an extraordinary number of curates, some up to 14.  An ordinary parish in the C/E is lucky to have a full-time incumbent, while wealthy parishes in the Iwerne con-evo network operate in a quite different way.  While most clergy might expect, over a professional career, to serve in parishes which practise a variety of styles of worship, those privileged by having access to con-evo patronage seem to glide from one prestigious and well-endowed post to another.  David Fletcher himself moved to take up the prestigious incumbency of St Ebbes in Oxford after Iwerne and here he remained till retirement.  These two posts had put him right at the centre of the non-charismatic evangelical universe in the C/E.  In these posts he would have had an encyclopaedic knowledge of dozens, if not hundreds, of individuals passing through the con-evo system.  If we liken the con-evo world to a spider’s web of camps, conferences, colleges and parishes, it is hard to see how David Fletcher was ever anywhere but at the very centre, able to operate patronage power very extensively.  I have no reason to suppose that he did not do this and that the con-evo world will still bear the hallmarks of his influence even though he is no longer alive.    

So far, I have tried (probably unsuccessfully) to be neutral in my description of the exercise of patronage within the con-evo bubble within the C/E.  I do have serious concerns about the way that a clique of socially powerful privileged churchmen who have never served in any but the wealthy conservative parishes in our large cities can understand the problems of the wider church.  In itself, patronage can be a neutral exercise of power.  It may even be justified on ethical grounds.  The problem arises when the one with patronage power is discovered to be corrupt or self-serving.  The United States is going through a period of serious trauma as its President exercises his power in an arbitrary way with little attention to the welfare of real people.  David Fletcher’s (and his brother Jonathan’s) exercise of patronage might qualify as ethical if it could be argued that both were exercising it in an utterly disinterested fashion.   The problem that arises is that both brothers are now credibly accused of wrongdoing in the area of sexual activity.   The detail of their alleged misdemeanours is unimportant here.    What is important is that serious ethical lapses are being associated with two formerly important evangelical leaders.  Between them, the Fletcher brothers had been instrumental in helping to create and sustain the incredibly powerful con-evo faction which, even now, seeks to control the future direction of the Church of England.  The ethical question which we have here to wrestle with is whether the good someone achieves is ever cancelled by their secret sin.  Do we feel that what David (and Jonathan) left behind damages their legacy to the Church in terms of conversions, the fostering of vocations to ministry and their teaching skills? I know that some will want to overlook the current serious allegations against David on the grounds that he was a key figure in their own formation towards a Christian identity.  I am not sure we can. There must be literally hundreds who fall into this category of being indebted to one or both of the Fletcher brothers for their spiritual formation.   Can we ignore revelations about their personal lives?   Speaking for myself, I would feel utterly betrayed if any of my personal ‘gurus’ or mentors turned out to have credible accusations against them of sexual sin.  Sexual sin inevitably involves betrayal, whether of a partner or a vulnerable victim.  Everyone whom I have followed as a mentor or teacher (mostly now dead) received my trust and confidence.  If any of them, even now, turned out to have done something which cynically betrayed such trust, I would feel deeply betrayed and would want to question everything else I had once valued about the relationship.

There is now a crisis in the Church which we hesitate to name.  The crisis is created by the fact that, one after another, many of our leaders are currently being shown to have feet of clay.  Some seem to have deplorable secrets from the past.  Others seem incapable of sticking to the truth while others seem to be missing a proper understanding of what it means to love and respect another human being, particularly in a state of need or distress.  We desperately need leaders of unimpeachable integrity to look up to and admire.  We talk about children finding role models.  If they find them, whether among footballers or television personalities, we want these models to be consistently reliable, stable and predictable in the way they behave.  It is a serious matter if a role model and dispenser of patronage power, like David Fletcher, turns out to have betrayed the trust of so many.  Pretending that this event has not happened, and that there is no case for institutional and personal self-examination, is dishonest and damaging to the ideals of the con-evo movement.  Silence can never be the response.