Last Sunday I listened to a sermon which touched on the issue of child abuse in the Church of England. This was a first for me. What the lady preacher had to say on the topic weaved various themes together – Dickens’ Christmas Carol, Advent and the meaning of the word apocalypse. I usually am very bad at recollecting sermons but, on this occasion, I want to try and recall some parts of what was said. When a sermon topic grabs my attention, I find myself running ahead in my own mind, so I cannot always remember where the preacher’s words end, and my own reflections begin. What I think I heard was a timely and prophetic summons to our church leaders to act in this area of past abuse within the churches.
The first point that the preacher made was to discuss the word apocalypse. Contrary to the meanings implied by such films as ‘Apocalypse Now’, the word does not necessarily imply disaster. It simply means uncovering or unveiling of something hidden. The Apocalypse of John in the Bible which is known as Revelation is declared to be about the revealing of things which ‘must shortly happen’. Chronological time in fact seems to be of little importance in the narrative of Revelation. Much of the text draws us into a mythological time. Past, present and future merge into one. The word apocalypse is a good word to describe the encounter by the reader with the various mysterious episodes recounted in the book. Because the symbolism is often difficult and obscure, we have a sense of being on the edge of something that we will never fully understand. We may feel a comparable sense of bafflement when the shocking fact of sexual abuse in the church is first revealed. Things that have been hidden are being brought to light. This is also an apocalypse, even if what is revealed is an evil which needs to be responded to and action taken by the Church to prevent anything similar happening in the future.
At some point in the sermon we were reminded of the passage from the Christmas Carol when Scrooge is visited by the spirits of past Christmases. The various spirits force him to view episodes from his past making sure that he knew what truly going on and what were the true feelings that people had about him. Each of these visions could be said to be a kind of mini-apocalypse for him. The most terrifying of the visions was the one he had of the future. Here he saw himself dying alone, unloved and unmourned by anyone. This apocalypse was a shock to the system, designed to compel him to make a new effort to get his life back together. He could do nothing about the revelations of the past, but he had it in his power to change the future.
The preacher on Sunday pointed out that the way for the church to put right its failings from the past over child abuse was to face up to the facts of past failure and do everything possible to prevent similar events in the future. This apocalypse, the unveiling of past horrors compels us to face up to the reality of the situation. We now have a choice to put right the future. If nothing changes, the future will simply be a continuation of the past and the present. The apocalypse of the future will give us a reality just as grim as the past.
The sermon did not elaborate what the future might be for the Church if the failings of present and past were not dealt with. But I was being led to see that just as Scrooge could change the future by an act of ‘metanoia’, so the Church can change the script for the future if it so wishes. From a Christian perspective, God knows the past, present and the future but he gives us some control of how the future will play out. The decision to remake the future has to be made now.
What must the Church do with the apocalypses of child abuse in the present and from the past? One thing is certain. If we treat the current crop of scandals about abuse as apocalypses sent by God, then we should not attempt to cover-up what has been so far revealed. I do not know if there is word which is the opposite to apocalypse but every time a lawyer, bishop or insurance official tries to bury all or part of a story about abuse, this is what they are doing. God in some sense is uncovering something terrible for us to respond to and deal with. Human beings, by burying, denying or supressing that information are creating the scenario for a future apocalypse of terrible intensity. Years of deflecting and denying power abuse have created the possibility for a future legacy that will do much to undermine the Church.
The apocalypse or revelation of child sexual abuse in the Church has a past, present and future dimension. The only part of this apocalypse that can be changed is the future part. If the Church gets its act together and puts right the present and the past, then the future apocalypse will not be a time of disaster. The Church, like Scrooge, is being given the opportunity to put things right for the future. Present indications are that it is still very much wedded to the path of avoidance and secrecy. Such deflection and denial will inevitably lead to a bleak future for every part of the institution. The sheer energy being expended by some senior churchmen to promote ‘forgetfulness’ and the attempted discrediting of survivors will eventually have a terrible legacy. When ordinary members suspect that honesty and openness is not valued by senior members of the Church, a slow disillusionment will set in. Young people especially will always sniff out hypocrisy when it exists. Information put out on Twitter by Gilo, Matt and a Iwerrne survivor suggests that between them they know of 18 bishops who knew of their abuse and walked away. If we add to the total those who heard about the Peter Ball incidents, the number approaches 30. The media and the bloggers will continue to tease out the secrets and cover-ups that exist. Any attempt by institutions to hide secrets is becoming less and less viable in this Internet Age. We might even describe the Internet as an organ of apocalypse. How much better if the hitherto veiled truth is shared in the Church now rather our having to wait for it to emerge in the future and then see it poured out over the Church like one of the bowls of God’s wrath in Revelation 16. One asks whether the Church would even survive that future apocalypse of truth and reality. At some point the Church has to be brought face to face with all the truth of past evils that it has sought to deny and supress for so long.
When the Ten Commandments were first formulated, they set forth a standard for human aspirations. On the simple issue of telling the truth, I have several times had occasion to realise that otherwise respectable persons were telling me lies; it is not obviously a verity that the lie is unacceptable but rather a perceptive insight into a better world where mutual respect commands respect for the truth as the basis for all lasting human relations. Our present times make me wonder just how long it was before the TC’s gained some kind of respect. I had the feeling when the safeguarding agenda first made its impact that it required a comparison with the Ten Commandments, for what was required was nothing less than a thorough-going change of outlook which lifted all our aspirations. It meant that clinging to the past and its apparent virtues – now to be recognised as not much more than cover-ups – must be firmly jettisoned in favour of a new set of values which recognised that honest mutual support and openness is the best protection against abuse. It is clear from your account, Stephen, that the preacher had plumbed the depths of Revelation; out with the idea that there is some kind of timeless mystery which is being revealed if only we have the sense to understand it, and in with the idea that it is firmly rooted in the present (in its own day) and its shortcomings. And hence to its prophetic comment on our present. I agree with all your distillations from what is said. Within a parish it is easy to see how to implement the safeguarding agenda and it has a good chance of success in an environment where individuals rub shoulders. It is much more difficult to see how to command respect in the upper echelons of a diocese. In Newcastle, I have exchanged no more than eye-contact with one bishop; the other I have never set eyes on. This gives me no confidence that I am dealing – however distantly – with people I can trust, still less keep answerable for their actions.
I have shared this with the Broken Rites Group. Clergy families have often been overlooked in the tales of abuse, and sometimes we have excluded ourselves. Many abusers have a family.
And the families too may be subject to abuse, with no way to escape it.
You might be interested in this Church Times article, from yesterday’s edition. https://www.churchtimes.co.uk/articles/2018/23-november/comment/opinion/a-haven-for-the-victims-not-the-perpetrators
I can’t help feeling that concern about money skews things in this field. Honesty is the best policy, unless you are likely to be sued for it. I would prefer us to make full apologies and risk being sued personally.
Thanks again Stephen. Good blog.
I like the image of the Church as Scrooge. Too often it’s disgracefully Scroogey when dealing with survivors. However, Lincoln Diocese have appointed someone solely to care for survivors and victims- a good model for other dioceses, and the Church centrally, to follow.