The Financial and Reputational Cost to the Church of England of Safeguarding Scandals

 Safeguarding scandals, whether they involve bullying or abuse, have hit the Church of England over the past 15 years with sickening regularity. These have cost the institution staggeringly large sums of money as well as reputational damage.    I am not privy to most of the financial details, but an event like the ‘retirement’ of the former Bishop of Winchester, a few years ago, was only managed and concluded after a great deal of money was made available to fund the whole process and the settlements that were reached.  Bishops and ordinary clergy hold offices which are protected by strong legal rights.  You cannot say to a clergyperson with a licence ‘you are fired’, even if there is a scale of offending that is blatant and obvious. The old consistory courts that used to preside in cases of clerical malfeasance have been superseded by new forms of church legislation, but the processes involved in removing a clergyman from office still involve the Church expending a great deal of labour and money.

As part of the financial education of the lay people in the Church, it is regularly being explained that the cost of one stipendiary priest is around £60,000.  Readers of this blog will understand something of how this figure is made up.  This is not anything like the salary level of an ordinary parish priest, which comes in at around half this figure.  Most church-goers have taken this financial figure on board, and the majority realise that giving to the church has become a serious obligation.  No longer do ancient endowments provide anything near a sustainable standard of living, as they did until fairly recently.  When I was a curate in Croydon in the early 70s, I managed on a salary of around £1500 p.a.  I was then unmarried, so it was possible to save quite a proportion of this income.  In the local deanery I picked up information about the stipend of incumbents, and there was some variation, thanks to the historic incomes of the individual parishes.  One Vicar in the centre of Croydon received the princely sum of £4k from the fact that the parish was well endowed.   Most of the other parishes that I knew about provided far less than this but were topped up from central funds to a level of around £1800.  On average, the endowments would have typically provided around two thirds of this sum. 

I raise this topic of finance because I believe that money, or lack of it, represents a substantial threat to both the morale and survival of the Church of England today.  The main fact about the finances of the CofE back in the 70s is that the institution was then to a considerable degree kept afloat on dead men’s money.  Endowments meant that ordinary church people could think of the church as the material provider, allowing them to have paid incumbents, living in Vicarages which had been bought by the church in earlier decades.  This mentality of the church having all the money to provide for ministry costs is now, of course, hopelessly out of date.  Inflation has almost completely destroyed the value of the historic endowments attached to individual parishes.  Also, the pattern of church life today has resulted in many, many new ways of churches spending money, especially at the level of the diocese and new national institutions.  One expensive add-on for the church is taking financial responsibility for training new clergy.  I was trained under a system which saw the local education authority pay for everything from my undergraduate course to my residential theological training.  The authority even redirected my college fees over two terms to pay for my course in Switzerland at the Ecumenical Institute.  In contrast. every clergyperson today, coming through the system, has had, in most cases, thousands of pounds spent on their training by the Church.  If ever a clergyperson ceases to follow the path of ordained ministry, they become, in an accounting perspective, a lost asset.   From the point of view of a management perspective, every member of the clergy is a valuable commodity.  He/she has cost the institution a substantial amount of money to train and is difficult to replace.  Every trained clergyperson is a precious asset, and everything must be done to protect and defend them.  They are valuable and allow the church to exist as a functioning organisation.

One of the perennial complaints of those who try to understand the problems around safeguarding is the claim that the victims and survivors of clerical and church abuse are treated less well than the perpetrators.  This is one of the claims of Stephen Kuhrt in his recent book, Safeguarding the Institution. Institutional bullying by senior members of the Church is illustrated from his own story.  There are many others who have encountered the hard edge of the Church’s self-preservation mode as it acts in harsh ways, trying to preserve its reputation as well as its assets.  These assets are found, as we have indicated, not in merely in buildings and endowments, though these are important, but in its trained leaders.  The human assets are precious, not only because of the expense of training them to fill the incumbency posts up and down England, but because of the acute difficulty in replacing them when they are no longer available to serve.  This shortage is a serious threat to the church’s long-term survival but is not discussed very much. The current shortfall in clergy available to fill posts is not information that is published.  My estimate, based partly on a scrutiny of the advertisement pages of the Church Times, is that there are some serious shortages in clergy manpower in some parts of England.  I also suspect that some Diocesan bishops have quietly accepted that some of the parishes in their sees will never again be able to maintain anything resembling the structures of the traditional parish system. 

I have some sympathy for the C/E bishops who are burdened by the responsibility of overseeing a system which, for financial and manpower reasons, may never again be able to function as intended.  In a situation where able clergy are thin on the ground, needing to be encouraged and supported like some rare, almost extinct creatures, it is not surprising that bishops and those in authority will have a distinctive approach to safeguarding.  This perspective might seem to be, sometimes, over-generous and forgiving to clerical perpetrators.  Such an approach might also appear less than sympathetic to the survivors who challenge the system by demanding prompt action against abuse.   When a bishop has finally to exercise his authority by expelling an individual from ministry, he/she must negotiate numerous time-consuming financial and legal obstacles along the way.   At the end of this process, she/he will then need to find a replacement. Taking over a parish where there has been a serious safeguarding issue is seldom a straightforward challenge for a newcomer.  The outside observer does not see all the hidden processes that have been gone through.  The bishop and archdeacon will view the problem from a broader perspective and try to think of the long-term interests of the whole area affected by the abuse. The outside observer is properly focussed on the victims/survivors.  The church officials, in contrast, will possibly be taking a view that provides for the possibility that the perpetrator may eventually resume active ministry in due course.  The flawed failing clergyman remains a potential asset within the system.  If there are possible means to allow him/her to continue at a future date when the offence may have been forgotten by those involved, the bishop may well seek to make it possible.  

So, to summarise, we have two understandable ways of reacting in a Church that is plagued by a series of abuse scandals.  It is clear that there is first the moral/legal approach.  This is the one that most people, especially victims and survivors, feel should routinely be applied.  This demands that, in dealing with safeguarding cases, the path of applying strict justice should be followed.  The guilty must be held to account, and the wounded bound up with healing balm.  For most survivors and those who support them there is no other possible way forward.  Yet as we have seen there is another (pragmatic?) perspective to be considered.  This is the view of church authorities that is aware of the dire current financial and manpower shortages in the church which makes them unwilling to let them go unless absolutely necessary. They have looked at the future and possibly seen that the whole parochial system is under threat and even unsustainable over a fifty-year period.  The financial assets of the C/E are probably robust enough to face this crisis for a reasonably long period, but other assets – money poured into training individuals to serve as clergy – also need protection.    Every time a clergy person is lost to the system through premature retirement or misconduct, that is like a dagger wound to the whole church.  It also represents a loss to the whole Church in financial terms. One other possible reaction to this crisis of trained manpower is to allow the standards of training to slip so that the whole process becomes cheaper and less thorough. Lowering standards beyond a certain point would, I fear, bring is own set of problems, some touching on the area of safeguarding.  

The current decade in the Church of England may well be remembered as the safeguarding period.  The question that is being asked is whether these safeguarding issues will ultimately overwhelm the Church financially and morally.  Can we find a way of affirming compassion and safety alongside a keen protection of justice and honesty in a way that meets the demand for fair-play among church people and public alike?

About Stephen Parsons

Stephen is a retired Anglican priest living at present in Cumbria. He has taken a special interest in the issues around health and healing in the Church but also when the Church is a place of harm and abuse. He has published books on both these issues and is at present particularly interested in understanding how power works at every level in the Church. He is always interested in making contact with others who are concerned with these issues.

45 thoughts on “The Financial and Reputational Cost to the Church of England of Safeguarding Scandals

  1. An excellent article. Thanks.

    The Charity commission will probably force far more church financial transactions to be made publicly accessible in future. Why should church members not see exact legal costs, and precise victim compensation costs?

    Parish and diocesan accounts show vast monies going on salaries, clerical housing and pensions. Why should parishioners not know what the ‘diocesan takings’ get spent on?
    What is the Church? That’s the other item on the agenda.

    Could a local UK church run on bread, wine, anointing oil and water for baptism? The level of education in the modern UK means the average congregation often has people who could sustain the church indefinitely without a priest being present.

    Some Anglican priests are a burdensome waste of time and money. The cost of retaining them far outweighs the price of jettisoning them.

  2. It’s interesting to compare this situation with the one in my own Baptist denomination which is course functions on a congregationalist/connexional model. Here candidates for ministry are largely self-funded, sometimes with the aid of their “sending” church, rather than by the denomination as a whole. (It is recognised that this system does make it difficult for people to enter ministry and may be contributing to a shortage of ministers; it is therefore currently under scrutiny).

    Possibly more to the point is that ministers, while mostly being nationally accredited, are employed by their local congregations (technically as “office holders”) who have the ability to hire and fire. Our normal “Terms of Appointment” state: “In the event of serious misconduct, a serious breach of duty by the minister, the removal of the minister’s name from the Register of Nationally Accredited Ministers of the Baptist Union of Great Britain, or the removal or their Recognised Local Minister status by the Regional Association, the church shall have the right to terminate the appointment without notice”.

    Obviously the situation is more complex than this in practice, and will almost certainly require the intervention of the Regional Minister (the nearest equivalent we have to bishops) and the national Ministries Office. ( I must add that there is also the unhappy possibility of a faction within the congregation pushing hard for the dismissal of a minister they simply don’t like: I know a church which proposed a motion of No Confidence in its minister; the motion failed but the minister felt he could not continue in such an atmosphere and sought a new posting).

    However I have known a situation some years ago where, within one week, a minister was admitted to have been guilty of serious moral failure, the Regional Minister called a meeting of the Deacons (= Church Council) and, on the Sunday, told the congregation that their minister had been sacked. (Said minister was not nationally accredited; if they had been, the process might have taken longer).

    1. That’s interesting! To be ‘nationally accredited’ is possibly what is lacking in Anglicanism. Does each anglican diocese effectively hold its own ‘licence to minister’ register?

      The-‘Dialogue Ireland’-posts on-‘Rev William James Stewart’-take a bit of time to study. But did a nod and wink, or a few boxes ticked, see a vicar-abuser celebrity from Dublin get gifted a clean sheet, and a fresh start in Norwich Diocese?

      Post-Shipman NHS changes have made it easier to complain about medics, and being able to check their status on the UK GMC online register is helpful. Odd how one still cannot check a vicar’s credentials and licence on any national register.

      1. All C of E clergy are nationally accredited by virtue of their ordination; we are ordained ‘in the Church of God’ rather than to a particular place. We’re licensed to a parish or chaplaincy, but are still clergy even if without a license. There is also a register of those who have misbehaved and are not in good standing. In the bad old days each diocese or bishop had their own secret blacklist, and the bishop could put clergy on the blacklist according to their own whim, without ever having to give a reason. I hope that’s not still going on, but my guess is that some bishops will still engage in some skulduggery for their own agenda.

        1. Thanks, Janet, the ‘Dialogue Ireland’ summary posts on the Rev William James Stewart case make me wonder how well this all works. The impression is of a ministry ban in Dublin, via the local Anglican Archbishop.

          But a rural Irish diocese then let some ministry recommence, and a licence to minister was almost certainly present again. Then there was a transfer to Norwich Diocese, perhaps without disclosure of the serious adverse incident which resulted in the court appearance causing the Dublin licence to minister revocation.

          It is far from clear if a much earlier serious concern was shared with Norwich Diocese. The picture looks like an uncoordinated dog’s dinner, of dioceses and bishops pretty much doing their own thing, and without any fear of discovery or punishment.

          The collapse of the Anglican Church is predictable, deserved even, when we look at the chaotic manner in which so many situations are handled. My impression has been of disregard for national law and church rules, coupled with a blasphemous contempt for biblical principles of natural justice.

          We have a paradox, where a society shaped by Christian principles is a magnetic draw for migrants. Respect for human dignity and freedom is a huge pull. So is equality before the law. These principles are bible-derived. Yet the modern UK Anglican Church often just ignores them.

          1. I don’t know how the Church of Ireland operates; it may well have different systems from the Church of England. My comment referred to the Church of England, not other Anglican churches.

            1. Huge similarities!

              Rev Willi Stewart had a seamless transfer to Norwich Diocese from an Irish Diocese.

              This was only stopped by Dialogue Ireland red-flagging cynically hidden abuse.

  3. One of the things I found most fascinating about accounting, was not so much the accuracy of allocation of amounts as debits or credits and balancing the books, although once you get the hang of it, the results can have a certain satisfaction. No, the thing that continues to enthrall me, is what never appears in the accounts at all.

    We all know that if you buy a manse for your ministry, it appears as an asset in the balance sheet. But C of E parishes don’t include their usually ancient church buildings in their charity accounts.

    And what about clergy we train. Are they assets? In theory potentially yes, but only to the extent we “control” them, but their training costs are expensed each year, and not recorded as assets. Neither is some of their kudos preach asset value recognised anywhere in the accounts. The intangible value of their current and future ministries is hard to estimate and not permitted to be accounted for in the numbers. After all, they can always leave.

    But these intangibles still have great value. The accounts never tell the whole story. Successful ministers, such as Canon Mike Pilavachi (until the scandal obviously) are considered substantial intangible assets. Granting him fast track ordination, honouring him with “Canon” status and the now withdrawn MBE, were simply attempts to keep the asset in-house. To control it.

    But when does an asset become a liability? An obligation to transfer future economic benefit? One way the C of E has “managed” this situation is to shove those expensive Reports firmly into drawers. Meanwhile, it has subdivided the Pilavachi assets into the Man, and the Methodology. The man has been expensed, written off to the P & L, whilst the methods he used are being carried forward to be used by charisgelical parishes across the diocese of St Albans (and elsewhere).

    We might have been thinking of Pili as a bit of a liability, and of course the Inquiries cost millions, but I believe they’ve spent all they’re going to spend. Any future potential liabilities are contingent, and (they hope) sufficiently remote, not to require future provision.

    It’s not such much the accounts, but what’s not in them. Value exists, but is hard to control, in the clergy populace. There is also liability, not least in a heritage archaic maintenance infrastructure, and that’s before we estimate the astronomical cost of unrecognised historic abuses. My estimate is that the Church is bankrupt, but only so many if it recognises and accounts for these potential liabilities. Which is probably why it doesn’t.

    1. I’m open to correction, but my understanding is that where the incumbent vicar or rector of a C of E church holds his/ her office in freehold, the church building correspondingly vests in him/ her personally for the duration of their incumbency (broadly, the church contents vest in the Churchwardens for the time being). This would explain the absence of valuations in the Charity accounts: the Diocesan Boards of Finance don’t own them.

      I don’t profess to know how this works in the case of the ‘modern’ priest in charge – often with several churches – who doesn’t hold office in freehold. Just one of the many complexities of the C of E.

      1. Your knowledge of the inner workings of the C of E is probably greater than anyone else’s I’ve come across Rowland. It does seem opaque!

        The term “vest” is doing a lot of work here. Freedom to have use of a beautiful building sounds great in theory, but the maintenance costs tend to be high and a big worry. The vesting does not give the right to sell up either, even if this were feasible.

        Getting back to the New Testament church, people’s homes or a hired room seemed to be the order of the day, presumably if a mountainside were too drafty. Perhaps we could return to this?

        Our local churches meet in the town’s 3 theatres, cinema and any number of schools, as well as elderly parish churches and a modern cathedral. From an accountant’s perspective I’d prefer a short lease rather than an ancient monument as a commitment. Aesthetically of course, that’s a different matter.

        Biblically, the keeper of the purse turned out to be a bit of a charlatan, and I do wonder whether the precedent he set still has its roots in the opacity and smoke and mirrors of the current “system”. People are also squeamish about money, tending to avoid the subject and enabling those with more dubious intentions to do as they please unchallenged. M Sargeant springs to mind.

    2. “Fur coat and no knickers” might be a bar room drinker’s summary of UK Anglicanism! Amazed by one ‘See House’ I saw recently. The diocesan bishop’s house looked more like a vast hotel. There is still money for some things! Google maps and Streetview gave me a sense of how grand a place the Bishop needs. But it was even more ‘impressive’ in the flesh on a visit to the street.

      1. The bishop’s house usually contains offices and rooms for entertaining large and formal gatherings, as well as the bishop’s family residence. Some also contain accommodation for ancillary staff. Yes, some look and are very grand – especially those medieval in origin. But the bishop’s or archbishop’s flat may actually be quite small, as in Lambeth Palace.

        1. ‘Shall we say’-a tax free gift of £10-20K or a lot more? Many UK adults would be delighted with a free flat at Lambeth palace!

          1. Most adults would be delighted with a free flat anywhere, even if it’s small, inconvenient, and uncomfortable. A friend of mine, no fan of archbishops, was part of a General Synod committee evaluating Lambeth Palace accommodation, and even she thought the archbishop’s flat was very unsuitable. Of course it may have been improved since then, but it was in no way the grand dwelling you would think from photos of the buildings outside.

  4. Stephen raises important questions about the funding within the Church of England.

    I have my own specific question. Does anyone know how the Diocesan lawyers are funded? I have a particular reason for asking.

    In a previous comment on a SC blog I explained the way in which the case I have been supporting for six years was closed down by the Diocesan Safeguarding Officer and consequently also by the MP who had been seeking justice for a year on our behalf. The MP advised engaging a lawyer who would have access to documents and could not be refused.

    That seemed to be unaffordable until my friend found some money which might have been sufficient to pay for an enquiry into looking at the choral registers – registers which readers may remember, could have provided evidence which might have exonerated my friend. The information might also have shown how the DSO and senior clergy were acting against my friend and covering up mistakes made in this case. So, finding this evidence could have shown abuse practices in this particular safeguarding case. In the past year there has also been exposed in this diocese two other well publicised cases of safeguarding abuse and cover ups.

    Finding a lawyer proved not to be as easy as the MP suggested. The Law Society suggested three solicitors but when contacted were unable, for various reasons, to take on the case. I contacted two well known firms both of whom have many subsidiary branches in the country but they also could not take this case. One of these suggested our taking out a civil case against the Diocese.

    Understanding how well funded the Dioceses seem to be in the Church of England this sounded like throwing good money after bad so we dropped the whole idea. In any case in the last six years we have had a great deal of evidence of the Diocese and senior clergy supporting the DSO at all times. Another instance of how justice in the Church of England is only for those who can afford it (and not always then!).

    This then brings me to my original question, does anyone know how Diocesan lawyers are funded?

    1. I am also mystified by the same question! I do not see legal fees on accounts.

      An almost half century of sordid abuse cover up was broken by one now deceased victim in 2023. The local media reported a £100K compensation settlement to the terminally ill hero of the story. But an NDA was fixed.

      So what were the total legal costs to Church members, and did the diocese have to pay the victim legal costs as well as their own? Were other victims secretly compensated ? Why do Church members-footing the bills-not get any stats?

      Your second query is also interesting. Many victims get fobbed off by informal processes. They do not trust formal church processes either. So it might be as wise to just-‘take a civil case’-is one line of argument.

      But go back to a diocesan formal inquiry. Does the Church member potential victim pick up their own legal representation fee? And do the diocese (i.e. church member wallets) pick up the bill for a potential clerical abuser? What nonsense.

      Does the Anglican Church get away with an archaic system which no NHS client, college student, school pupil or other public sector person would tolerate?

    2. Most C of E dioceses have legal representation vis their registrars who are always solicitors. They advise on a number of issues, such as trusts, faculties, marriage law, educational matters, and ecclesiastical law. Their firms are usually paid a retainer for their services so that the diocese doesn’t have to keep paying for every phone call, letter or bit of advice. When it comes to other matters, the firm will usually charge on a case by case basis.
      The problem tends to be that most regular solicitors are not very well versed in ecclesiastical law so may be reluctant to take on a case against a diocese or its officers. Most of the ecclesiastical law specialists are also diocesan registrars or chancellors and so on retainer to a church body so unwilling to take on a case where there may be a conflict of interest. Church law is really an “old boys and girls network” where everyone knows each other and they are mostly expected to limit any reputational damage to the Church itself. It can be hard to get support for a case against a diocese or church body because of this. Perhaps an employment specialist firm could help, especially if they employ Christian staff.

      1. Brendan Bailey I should like to thank you and James Hardy for responding to my comments and explaining the way in which lawyers acting for a Diocese works.

        I fear there has been a misunderstanding and I did not explain myself properly. I may have made the same mistake when approaching the solicitors which might account for their refusal to take on the case.

        We do not want to take action against the Diocese but against the Diocesan Safeguarding Officer. It is she who since 2020 has refused this information. Through Subject Access Request we read emails in 2023 where the then Bishop, Dean, Registrar and Chancellor urge her to give us this information. Their concern was that by that time we suspected a coverup of some sort and it was worrying them. The DSO refused. The Dean continued to support her and it was his recent influence whereby she said to the MP that the case was closed and the diocese would not open it again.

        I was also astonished that Registrars are always solicitors. The initial instigator of refusing the information of the registers in 2020, was a Canon at the Cathedral. In 2022 we filed a CDM against her. In reply both the Registrar and Chancellor referred to my friend as being a ‘Choir member’ which was not true but implied he had easy access to the chorister who was the complainant.

        We wonder where such erroneous information came from and the reason it was believed because in sixty years he has never been a choir member. Although this was pointed out it was ignored. During the CDM investigation the Canon was promoted to another Cathedral.

        The DSO continued the task of refusing the registers.

        1. Susan, The ‘Dialogue Ireland’ intervention, which helped to oust Rev William James Stewart from Norwich Diocese, might be worthy of study. There can at times be ways of red-flagging concern without getting snared in church processes. But media contacts, and other advisers-assistants, are possibly essential if trying this tactic. I think the victim’s mother got in touch with Dialogue Ireland. She probably would not have been able to achieve a result on her own. But Dialogue Ireland intervened-and the result was spectacular.

          1. Thank you for that James. Yes indeed I have approached the media but to no avail.

            A journalist from BBC West Midlands today seemed very interested. I approached her at the time of the Ghosh case pointing out the similarities of the two cases. Although she asked for details and promised to contact me ‘in a few days’ she never did. Of course I rang again, twice (at the suggestion of the person who answered the phone) but she was always ‘busy’.

            I do not know anyone who can intervene in the media on our behalf.

            Our problem, which has been the excuse for people not helping us (over and over), is that my friend is not ordained. Now we are not asking for justice in his case any more. Our needs have changed and we now need help in making an application of disclosure for the choral registers which might prove if the allegation has ever been justified.

            This in turn would highlight the power of the Diocesan Safeguarding Officer. who for six years has offered unreasonable and illogical excuses for not giving this information.

            1. Apologies Susan, delayed by some adverse circumstance over last 2-3 days-now largely resolved. Would your friend have data protection law rights to see the information which the Church held on them?

  5. The Rev William James Stewart (AKA ‘Willi’ Stewart) case exposes a dreadful crisis.

    Grimsby to Galway, Shetland to Scilly, is this how things often get done in Anglicanism?

    A charismatic-evangelical celebrity (famed for Dublin’s CORE church regeneration) invites a much younger man to stop overnight. Next morning there is an adverse incident of uninvited molestation, with genital touching.

    It gets to court, where the cleric pleads guilty. Two Archdeacons are allegedly character witnesses for the cleric. The judge sees career loss as a punishment. The overseeing local bishop-archbishop appears to impose a ministry ban. Matters are settled. Or are they?

    The ex-vicar begins to minister, and to have a licence in a different Irish Anglican diocese beyond Dublin. Then they get a transfer to a new start in Norwich Diocese. But the victim’s mother gets wind of it, a victim group are alerted, and they expose the situation.

    The new ministry post has to be terminated. But Norwich Diocese appear reserved in their assessment or sharing of what has been uncovered. Their policy, at least to some degree, mirrors the understatement of serious issues on the Irish side.

    ‘Dialogue Ireland’ suggest this was not a first Church incident of inappropriate contact with a younger man by Rev Stewart. Their posts drop the names of Bishops, Archbishops and other very senior clergy. The great and the good devoted their attention to this one.

    In the complete absence of formally maintained national-denominational registers, how many Willi Stewart equivalents might be remaining in post? The three diocesan systems here, two Irish, one English, were clearly not acting in a joined up fashion.

    Why can Anglicans not see a basic general online clergy register? It’s not hard to provide: age-sex-qualifications-ordination date-current licencing status-any hearing decisions or serious adverse incidents?

    This case reflects what a lot of SC contributors suggest. Celebrity ministers with connections, and with publicly important ministry success, often get protected. Other everyday Anglicans can easily get stitched up on the basis of fabrication, gossip, tosh.

    There is another important point here. ‘Dialogue Ireland’ acted boldly and decisively. We should surely celebrate, and even try to replicate this where appropriate. The Rev William James Stewart case is surely worthy of discussion and sharing around.

    Why did Norwich Diocese not check this situation out far more thoroughly? And are their comments rather guarded, given the seriousness of a the background offence which emerged?

  6. Just a reminder that job-related accommodation for ministers of religion is usually not taxable in the hands of the recipient I.e. it is a perk, such as it is. Some would argue that an accommodation allowance should be paid instead. That way we can all see how much the minister is actually “getting”. However this allowance, would be taxable. With property values very high, particularly in the south of England, an equivalent monetary allowance would easily take a modest stipend into a higher rate tax band. That’s one reason the job related accommodation stays.

    A future government, less disposed to religious benefits could remove this considerable tax benefit. It’s unlikely because church goers vote.

    The main downside of provided job-related accommodation, is (apart from huge fluctuations in its quality as mentioned above) is the level of control the Church has on the recipient of the property. Lose your job, lose your home.

    1. There used to be some plush NHS premises for free when doing locum GP work in the Highlands and Islands. Everybody younger largely saw it as an outrageous anachronism. The idea of giant rectories remaining a ‘for free’ and ‘tax free’ perk is absurd. I agree totally on the comment above!

      Some huge rectories house single occupants, or a couple without children. Also, in terms of rebuilding, or new builds, or renovations, do dioceses have a conflict of interest? It could be excessive cynicism on my part, but might dioceses benefit their central funds by building gigantic homes?

      If a parish continues to run then parishioner funds see to it all, and if the parish folds then the diocese can sell the asset, which they have always kept the title deeds for.

      A colleague once lamented how a rectory couple seemed determined to burn as much heat as was possible at parish expense. Others have relayed tales of clergy deciding to stay in rectories, even after their tenure has ended, and being exceptionally hard to evict.

      The free home perk is surely an absurdity.

      1. I can tell you, from experience, that living in a large clergy house is not a ‘perk’. It’s a millstone round one’s neck. The heating costs a fortune (the occupant pays, not the parish – though some can be claimed back on tax), and it also costs a fortune to provide furniture, flooring and curtains for the place. I have twice moved into vicarages without basics like toilet roll holders, towel rails, and curtain rods. Then there’s the necessity to pay a cleaner and a gardener – there’s never time to do that yourself in a busy parish with a large house and big garden. And keeping house and garden in good shape is the incumbent’s responsibility.

        We don’t get to choose the house we live in, and many of us would choose something different to what we are given, if given the chance.

        1. Those are interesting observations. But consider how junior medical trainees in the UK were latterly “treated” to a new system, where they could get posts from Shetland to the Scillies “fixed” by some centrally run random AI type allocation process. The days of free hospital rooms or flats are very long gone. There may be nowhere available to rent, or if it exists the cost will be prohibitive. Why should parishioners pay for clergy to get the tax free bonus of a swanky large mansion with a big garden? In terms of financial transparency, a different question must arise. Why do parish accounts not seem to list clergy salary, yearly pension cost of the installed cleric, and other perks like the tax free bonus of a home being provided? Are the days of the unexplained-‘diocesan share’-on accounts needing to end? It’s a quarter century since I re-engaged with Church. At that time a lot of older Anglicans questioned and were cynical about the diocesan need for money. I thought they were grumpy old sceptics. But I see things very differently now. Why do we not see exact legal and compensation costs for abuse in diocesan figures?

          1. I’m in favour of transparency. But parish accounts don’t list the items you mention because they aren’t direct charges on the parish; they’re included in the parish share. Some parishes are net receivers, others net givers. And parishioners gain from the provision of a vicarage, as it is also used for parish business – an office, interview space for people on all sorts of occasions, meetings, hospitality, garden parties, etc.

            I’ve lived in 5 church houses or flats, and visited many more. Some have been large, none swanky. Most were shabby, some decrepit, a few practically falling down. Most of us would prefer to choose our own accommodation, but we are required to live within the parish boundaries. The housing is provided to make that possible. Think what a bottleneck there would be if parishes all over the country were left without clergy while new incumbent looked for somewhere to live within a very narrow area; meanwhile, they’re still occupying the vicarage of the parish they’ve now left so that new incumbent can’t move in…
            And the result is that when clergy retire, they have nowhere to live, no equity in the housing market, and it’s too late in their life to get a mortgage.
            It isn’t a perfect system, but no one’s come up with anything better.

    2. I’d be in favour of a housing allowance, so the incumbent could choose where she lives according to her circumstances. An acquaintance of mine has a manse, with strict provisions about who may live with him, such as not a woman who he’s not married to, but no mention of men. They’re a little behind the curve there I suspect.

      Of course historically there was a presumption you entertained all and sundry at the vicarage. Personally I’d resent this intrusion into my personal space. One reason I’m not a vicar, should I have otherwise made the grade.

      Typically the vicar’s remuneration including the “benefit” of an enormous rectory (or poky hovel *delete as appropriate) isn’t disclosed in the parish accounts, as mentioned earlier, but those of other supernumerary clergy are.

      In our town, the rectory is worth around £2-3m. Even a 3bed semi costs around £24k per annum here to rent. Any other person would have to earn £30,000 a year just to pay this rent (after 20% tax) or £40,000 a year as a higher rate tax payer. That’s on top of the salary they need just to live.

      It costs a lot more than a modest stipend (or equivalent) to provide for a clergy person. If people were more savvy (or even just numerate) they could better make decisions about how they engage their ministers financially. Attempting to hide this information, as my previous church did, when I pointed out the catastrophic difference this would make to a new music director employed without the previous accommodation provided, is dishonest and cruel. Their argument was that it would be unfair on the other low paid staff.

      If you want good people, you have to pay them, one way or another. Let’s be upfront about it shall we?

      1. Flexibility would be better than abolishing vicarages across the board. From time to time with minimal adaptations some could for a period house others? A practical case-by case modest deduction from a housing allowance could be made with any vicars staying?

        Crucially on what basis do decision takers take decisions? Do a less worthy class of bishops hide behind the “done way of having things done by the technocrats” rather than look after those in their care?

        I seem to recall that some of Stephen’s commenters (maybe Froghole) had researched that Queen Anne’s Bounty got stolen from parishes. MPs are made to rubber stamp this when they don’t see why they should interfere in the church. Now is surely not the time to acquiesce.

        Every time Nye’s Council sticks its spoke in any of the works we are told it is the law or Holy Scripture. When we have effective semi-disestablishment (the church could still crown a monarch) I think the rest of the bishops will rise to be human beings again.

  7. Financial reasons for neglecting safeguarding fade in the presence of non transparent excuses and cover ups protecting the hierarchy of the Church of England.
    I’m tired of reading the church’s statements where words are woven together to hide the truth.

    1. Is-‘the gift of administration’-something which includes accountancy? Rather than excel at responsible, rational, reasonable and transparent use of resources, do some Anglican groups give an impression of not having any particular interest in this? And does-‘trusting in the Lord’-for some charismatic-evangelical groups essentially mean careless fiscal policies which the bishops or senior leaders would never accept for their own personal finances or property interests?

      1. I was a member of a missionary society which “trusted in the Lord” for their finances. This did not mean that there was laxity in their spending or accounting (which had in any case to be approved by the Charity Commission).

        1. Financial fraud crosses every denominational barrier. It’s not to say how “trusting in the Lord for finances” is always naive or wrong. But are charismatic-evangelicals at higher risk?

          1. The £5 Martin Sargeant fraud at the diocese of London was overlooked by the then bishop, hardly a charismatic evangelical. All people of faith have a tendency to overlook reality when it conflicts with ideas they cherish.

            Finance is often delegated to people who “can do wonders with it”. This is code for washing our hands of any underhand practices that may lurk behind the magic. In this example, financial controls were simply bypassed on the bishop’s watch. The controls in place (but for Sargeant, side-stepped) were probably very good on paper. Indeed in my experience, the finance staff are usually diligent and hard working. And this is more than about intellectual intelligence. People of great ability wilfully ignore the tedious restrictions that are applied to every one else. Until they end up in prison.

            If you want to uncover fraud, focus on what the narcissists are doing. See who benefits.

              1. HS2 and other ‘Big Projects’ generate difficulties! That’s where Project Spire and the like are so daft. An elite with faith in ‘a magic money tree’ (of other people’s money) run the show. It’s easy to see why so many Anglicans are wary of giving money to the Church. The charismatic-evangelical tradition has been blighted by prosperity preacher types. I am always wary when I hear stories about Anglican clerics with gigantic property empires.

            1. Steve, this was a while ago, but searches at Company House and the Charity Commission produced a string of entries for Martin Sargeant. There is the facility to delve deeper in the core documents (which I suspect few do), and in this case they revealed a different address for him every time and most of those addresses Church of England VIP places which clearly were not his to use. But unless there was already a known cause for suspicion and forensic investigation, it would have been sheer chance for this to come to light.

              1. That’s very interesting Rowland. There’s a good deal of publicly available and detailed data out there. Trouble is, no one was looking. Certain characters were placed “above suspicion” for far too long. I’ve encountered considerable resistance from others to “knowing”. I’ve been asked if I’ve lost my faith even. In contrast I would say I see it as “mission” to uncover and root out wrongdoing.

                1. The reported-‘£5.2 million over a decade’-fraud is fascinating. Why a decade? Why £5.2 million? Just round up (or down) the suspected number of years may have been the idea. No pence, pounds or tens of thousands, and there is no depth in official commentary to members from the CoE hierarchy.

                  A felon serving a prison sentence has been convicted in a UK court. We can safely assume how UK justice demanded solid proofs to be presented in an open court hearing. So why do we end up with no excruciating detail on this one from the Anglican Church? Is this yet another let the dust settle, because the truth is too painfully awkward to discuss until a decade has elapsed?

                  ‘It’s only money’ vs ‘money is king’ is an interesting debate. But some kind of balance and fair play for church members arises, when we set value on money related to an average UK wage or the State pension.

                  The scale of the £5.2 million fraud-if set against a £12K State Pension-helps focus our minds. I dine with a group of older people most weeks at a Methodist cafe, and most of those Church members survive on just the State Pension. So how did a denomination or diocese ever lose track of £5.2 million? And is this the real figure, or were they so chaotic that this is simply what the courts were able to nail down? One might suspect that some senior officials are being shielded here………….

                  1. See my reply to Steve Lewis above. As well as the ‘dubious’ addresses used by Martin Sargeant, on some of the Company House documents he also described himself as a “Clerk in Holy Orders”. That, in itself, is a potential criminal offence.

                    Sargeant pleaded guilty to the charge of fraud. There would not have been oral evidence, so I think it unlikely that the Court had the minutiae of the make-up of the £5.2 million.

                    1. London Diocesan
                      Fund
                      Fraud incident impact enquiry
                      Final Report
                      May 2023

                      This is slightly long-winded. But it may answer questions around the money. Just a pity there was no conclusion in plain English on how the £5.2M cake was carved up.

                  1. Yes I’d forgotten that too. It makes a bit of a mockery of the sacred process, if people can just make it up, and no one checks anything.

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