Every so often I become weary with the cause of reporting and discussing power abuse and the effect that it has on people’s lives. And then I realise very quickly that I, in fact, have a choice in my involvement. As someone who has never known the worst kinds of abuse, I could walk away and think about and study other things. Such choices are not available to those who have, through no fault of their own, joined the ranks of being a survivor or a victim. They are compelled to carry the burden of past horrors every day of their lives. They need other people, whether professionals or amateurs like me, to listen to some of the terrible things that have happened to them. My readiness to write about this community is my small contribution towards helping this group to move towards the healing they need.

After writing this blog for four and half years, I was gratified to meet a few people outside General Synod last February who knew about my efforts on Surviving Church and who wanted to offer encouragement. This was a great help to me. I found myself newly energised and wanting to provide a personal commentary on the IICSA hearings in March and July to help readers understand better the topic of Anglican sexual abuse issues. My viewing figures started to go up, not least because some of my contributions and reflections were being shared more widely on the Internet. I began to feel that this task of reflecting on power/abuse issues was moving from being just a personal interest to becoming a kind of vocation on behalf of the wider Church.

What are my conclusions about the current state of play in the Church of England over abuse and power issues? I wish I could say that the shocks to the system, caused by the revelations at the IICSA hearings earlier this year, had created a humbler, more penitent and open Church. The Church will, when the written conclusions appear, receive a fairly negative verdict from both sets of IICSA hearings. The levels of incompetence, bad faith and behaviours verging on evil have been breath-taking. My impression now is that, in certain areas, things are still not changing. In spite of all the safeguarding structures and training that been put in place over the past years, there are unacceptable levels of secrecy among those who manage the church. One problem now facing the bishops and everyone else involved, is that it is far harder in these days of instant communication and networking to preserve secrets in the church. Today someone has drawn my attention to a new organization in the States called Faithleaks. Its stated aim is to be an ‘organization founded on the belief that increased transparency within religious organizations results in fewer untruths, less corruption, and less abuse’. Initiatives like this will gradually undermine the ability of any church to bury episodes from the past which still have the capacity to shock. The desire to hold on to secrets would appear to be more and more difficult as well as increasingly damaging.

One of the most extraordinary revelations of the past 12 months was the information that was shared in Sir Roger Singleton’s Report on the Past Cases Review (PCR). The PCR was an attempt by the Church of England in 2008-9 to go through all their personnel files to make sure that they had not missed any historic cases of abuse. Singleton’s report showed that whatever was intended by this Review, it was a massive waste of money. While some dioceses may have scrutinised their files thoroughly, others seemed to have done their examination in a very haphazard way. The final total of 13 outstanding cases, from the examination of the files in all 43 dioceses, was laughable in its underestimation of the problem of past abuse. Chichester alone had over 30 cases outstanding and these were, for some reason, not added to the national total. In 2010 when the report appeared, the Church of England were in strong denial about the whole issue. Roger Singleton’s Report seems now to have disappeared from view, as though it too is another piece of paper which needs to be buried because of its capacity to cause embarrassment.

When I reflect in these posts the unhappiness on the part of survivors towards bishops and national safeguarding institutions, I naturally look for an explanation for why this should be so. Why is there tension, defensiveness and secrecy among those who run the church on safeguarding issues? The short answer seems to be that the institution, here the Church of England, feels compelled to defend itself from reputational damage. Stories from the past about abuse undermine the desired narrative of a godly caring body of people who follow Christ. If even a fraction of these stories of abuse were to be true, consequences follow. The general public begins to regard the church as a place of danger because they can no longer trust its servants and representatives to protect the vulnerable. If the PCR had been a properly conducted exercise which squarely faced up to the cases of abuse from the past, the church would no doubt have had a huge crisis to overcome. But that crisis would have been survivable. With the help of large doses of honesty and humility, together with financial provision for survivors, the Church would have pulled through. But the Church chose the path of defensive denial so that even now the full truth of past abuses remains an untold story except to the actual survivors. Secrecy and suppression of truth then, as today, prevailed over openness and honesty.

The picture I have in my mind as I write these words is the picture of a town in a volcanic region. The townspeople worry that there is a danger of an eruption, but its mayor and councillors have told them not to be concerned about the odd rumble that is heard in the ground beneath them. Everything is under control they are told. The volcano will never erupt. But of course, the volcano eventually does erupt. Fortunately, the people of the town have time to flee but the houses and all their possessions have to be left behind. They only escape with their lives.

I believe that in the absence of honesty, repentance and a genuine compassion and care for survivors, the Church is going to be threatened for many years to come by the possibility of a volcanic explosion of truth. As long the Church tries to control the narrative of parts of its history by secrecy, cover-up and the evasion of truth, it risks its future. Last week the Smyth story appeared once more on the net in a perceptive article by Martin Sewell. There are still many unanswered questions. The Singleton Report, the Smyth story and all the individual narratives of survivors speak of an institution sitting on a volcano of Truth. It is, I repeat, not the abuse events themselves that are the real problem; rather the collusion and cover-up perpetrated by church leaders will be felt to be even more shocking. Figures in senior positions in the Church even now know things that disgrace the institution. Perhaps they genuinely believe that suppression will somehow make these go away. That is never true. Meanwhile, every time we fail to own up fully to the past, we exacerbate the pain of survivors. Humility, honesty and Christian charity would genuinely act together to promote healing, not only for the survivors, but for everyone who wants to find wholeness and shalom in the Church of Christ.
There is nothing covered up that will not uncovered, nothing hidden that will not be made known. Mat 10.26