The diagnosis of Parkinson’s problems at the end of last year has woken me up to the need to get my life tidy.  One of the areas of untidiness is in my books.  Like many people who develop short term enthusiasms, I have sometimes bought books which remain unread.  It is now time to lighten the load, both literally and metaphorically.  As I handle the books on my shelves, I am reminded of the various stages of my intellectual and theological adventures from undergraduate days to the present.  Having purged my books several times in the past, the ones that remain speak to me of relatively recent enthusiasms I have been indulging in, especially since retirement.   My undergraduate self would never have guessed that I would find myself in the world of cults, crowd dynamics and safeguarding issues.  Theologically and intellectually, I have been on a fascinating journey with various twists and turns.  It might have been tidier if I had stuck to one continuing speciality or interest.  That might have built up an expertise in a single area of enquiry, perhaps publishing the definitive study on the topic.  Whether it was because of an inbuilt intellectual fickleness or impatience, my efforts at study have wandered fairly widely, so that all my efforts are those of an amateur enthusiast rather than any sort of expert.

When I began my undergraduate studies, in the far-off days of 1964 at Oxford, I was not a strong student.  The essays I wrote, and the lectures attended were seldom edifying for me or my tutors.  By the beginning of my last year, the winter of 66/67, I felt set to fail completely.  There was just so much material to master and my brain felt overwhelmed by it all.  The way that I overcame this mental paralysis, in time to make an unexpectedly good showing in my final exams, was to take a bold step.  I abandoned all the notes I had taken from half-understood lectures that I had written down and instead started all over again in my learning.  Out went the books full of overspecialised material and in came the books written at a level I could thoroughly master.  I remember the delight with which I devoured John Robinson’s book on the Body and how it demystified Paul’s theology.  The lectures on Paul I had attended had made his thinking totally incomprehensible.  John Robinson opened up Paul and his thinking and made him coherent and understandable.

I do not have the space to mention which Old Testament studies injected some much-needed illumination into my learning, but the same method of focussing on books that were written at my level was applied right across the board.   Reading accessible books rather than relying on badly taken lecture notes introduced structure and order into my learning.  I also began to see that all the biblical material I was reading had always to be understood in a wider context.  There was no point, for example, in knowing what Exodus had to say about the Passover, unless you also knew or were aware of how this festival developed different emphases over history.   Everything I was learning about the Bible had to be placed in the context and setting of other historical and theological insights.  In short, I was learning to understand holistically, to ask at every point how pieces of knowledge connected with other areas of information and fact.  Always searching for and often finding these connections gave me a sense of the whole, as well as enormous respect for what Scripture was about.  This may seem to be an insight hardly worth pointing out, but academic methods of detailed scrutiny often destroyed any sense of integration and wholeness in the text.  To go back to the Passover example, I found myself having a far clearer understanding of the eucharist because I had become imaginatively involved in the Passover theme from the earliest days.  My knowledge of the Bible was not created by ‘clobber texts’ but through an empathetic immersion into the themes of biblical teaching. With this appreciation for the central insights of Old and New Testaments, I had an anchor which made my last-minute revision effective and to the point.

1967 was the first year when the Faculty of Theology in Oxford first required every candidate to offer a special subject.  I offered Christian archaeology and, although my showing in that paper was lower than my other marks, it was to lead me down a rabbit warren of fascinating, but ultimately over specialised study.  Nevertheless, this was to provide me with an opportunity for extended theological study normally only offered to  a student with an aspiration for a professional academic position. The financial demands today for this kind of extended study shut out all but a very small number.  I was successful in finding funding for a year’s travel and later two further years residential theological research, leading to a B. Litt degree in 1978.   After this I tried to remain connected to the academic world for a time, but the absence of easy library access made the effort hopeless.   I managed to give two presentations to the Oxford Patristic Conferences in the early 80s, but the amount of effort required to put together two twelve-minute papers made me realise that my explorations into Byzantine liturgical theology had no future.  Any attempts at academic scholarship, especially when attempted outside the orbit of a university and libraries, had to be abandoned.

The 42 years since I consciously abandoned the attempt to keep up with formal theological scholarship, in favour of more practically based learning, have not been wasted.  I have produced three (non-scholarly) books on healing themes and the abuse of power.  My own struggles to find something to say in a world of professional academics had taught me to realise that being acceptable in the world of academe is not the same as being useful to the Church and possibly the world.  I have always believed that clarity of expression must always take precedence over the formal rules of academic discourse.  My own theological journey or pilgrimage has taken me to occupy a place on both sides of the aisle, as it were.   I have been immensely privileged to have been able to make such a journey and it is hard to imagine a freelance student ever in the future being given the same freedom and resources to range over so many areas of theological interest.  In my case my studies, mostly undertaken in the context of parish ministry, have covered topics ranging from psychoanalytic themes to cultic behaviour and fundamentalist ideas.  My audience for all this amateur enquiry that my books and blogs have evoked in others have been the dozens of individuals who have written to me, especially over the past eleven years.  They are those who have allowed themselves to feel safe entrusting me with their secrets and experiences.   Some of them have felt confident enough to share their experiences in a blog.  I never meet them in the flesh but supporting them has been a great privilege.  They are encouraged by being heard and I am encouraged to know that someone finds my reflections helpful.

Do I have any regrets?  There is one dream that I had when I began my blog and before that never seems to have been fulfilled.    Retired clergy, such as I, given that many have had extensive theological formation, should be enabled to share in a structured way something of the richness of their learning. This could involve some kind of mentor relationship with those setting out on their clerical career.  Like me they often have libraries of useful books which they would willingly share and discuss to provide a glimpse of a richer and more expansive theological vision that is easier to engender when money and time are not in desperately short supply,  Those of us who call ourselves progressive or liberal want to declare forcefully that theology is not a single understanding of truth but is a vision of reality that potentially permeates through many other disciplines.  This then may be seen by the one with the eyes to see it.  No one being ordained today should ever be allowed to stop reading and learning.  Plato said something along the lines of the more I learn, the more I realise how much I do not know.  We older clergy, who were trained in an age which was more generous with time, know this truth.  That kind of training encouraged insight into what we see as wisdom.  It is a journey, involving a way of understanding that many, clergy and laity, still wish to follow today.

by Anon

The Lucius Letters: Chapter Two

Damon is an apprentice devil tasked with learning to undermine and weaken the Church of England and wider Anglicanism. Lucius is a senior devil mentoring apprentices overseeing the work on all denominations. Lucius refers to the Church of England as the ‘English Patient’. Lucius is particularly keen to encourage the Church of England’s peculiar ecclesionomics, bloated ecclesiocracy and unaccountable episcocrats. Lucius draws on C. S. Lewis’ Screwtape Letters, published in 1942. These letters are published by Lucius for the benefit of new apprentices. – Lucius.

Mutual Flourishing

Dear Lucius

I am getting very concerned about some of the press releases I keep seeing from a handful of Church of England dioceses.  These seem to indicate that women clergy work quite well with male clergy who don’t actually think women can be proper clergy.  But in some pictures from these dioceses, the women clergy look ever so happy, and say things like how lovely and nice their bishop is, even though that same bishop clearly doesn’t think women can be proper clergy. I’m worried that the overt discrimination is getting camouflaged by a veneer of politeness and a heavy cloak of niceness. We should be able to expose the Church of England for discrimination, but they seem to be getting away with by smiling a lot and talking about ‘mutual flourishing’.  How can we expose this duplicity?

Your Servant, Damon

Dear Damon,

You honestly don’t need to worry. The sacramental efficacy of women priests and bishops is clearly doubted by these proponents of ‘traditionalist’ views, and in no uncertain terms. A recent Church of England report said this:

“The basis of…objection to women’s ordination is the authority and unity of the Church.  The Church of England is part of the one holy catholic Church of God and that imposes limits on what it can and can’t decide unilaterally. Extending the historic threefold order to women constitutes a major doctrinal change and thus, whilst it may be the way the Spirit is calling the Church, it is an action that the Church of England does not have the unilateral authority to undertake”.

It is hilarious to cite ordination as the factor in the “authority and unity” of the One Holy Catholic Church. The official teaching of the Roman Catholic Church on the sanctity of life – conception, contraception and so forth – and the proper ordering of family life are major tenets of Catholicism.  The Church of England departed from such positions decades ago – “decide(ing) unilaterally” – that managing the size of a family through artificial means (i.e., contraception) was not wrong or sinful.  Roman Catholic orthodoxy disagrees. 

Traditionalist Anglicans are just liberals pimped up in liturgical bling.  They choose to ignore many major Roman Catholic doctrines, yet they accept others. They are fully signed up to Pick-and-Mix Anglicanism. They just don’t like to admit it.

The bishops are like some modern-day King Solomon rabbit caught in the headlights. Faced with a moral dilemma, such as what to do with two women arguing over one baby and who is the real mother, the bishops fudge it. They’ll recommend joint custody or try and broker some coparenting arrangement. They’d call that ‘mutual flourishing’ too. Why make a hard moral choice when you can fudge the issues and delay a difficult decision? 

Trying to impose ‘mutual flourishing’ makes no moral sense. It would be like forcing somebody to sign up for a peace treaty that they objected to and then telling them that they then had to sign another document saying they were happy with the terms of the imposed truce, even though they had resisted the treaty. And if they weren’t happy, they’d be told they’d end up with even less…so please pose for the camera next to the grinning man who doesn’t think you should be in the picture wearing a dog collar, and smile nicely!

The important thing to remember, Damon, is that the public don’t buy this for a second.  That’s why the congregations who are against women clergy are so careful not to mention this on their websites or on their notice boards.  The phrase ‘mutual flourishing’ is only meant to stop people inside the Church of England arguing more, and somebody actually making a clear moral decision. 

This is a huge fillip to us – and to the One whose Name Must Not Be Spoken. The Church of England has compromised on every important moral matter in recent times. On sexuality, gender, equal marriage and even the remarriage of divorcees, the Church of England won’t ever give a clear moral lead. They then just dress this up in silly phrases like ‘mutual flourishing’ which are imposed without consent.

Frankly, the Church of England does such a great job of undermining itself, and slowly losing the trust and confidence of its people and the wider population, you need do nothing other than sit back and watch them destroy themselves.

So, Damon, there’s no need to worry. The best thing to do with the English Patient is let them carry on releasing glib press releases with smiling women clergy next to grinning male clergy who don’t really believe the clergywomen should be in the picture at all. Just leave the church leaders to their vain PR and comms strategies. 

Keep stroking their egos. The church leaders think they are running a VIABLE Church – a Very Important And Big Long-term Enterprise. But in truth, your English Patient is just suffering from long-term cognitive impairment. So the gaps between fantasy and reality keep growing and will cause your patient to gradually unravel. Trust me. You just need to be patient.

Your Mentor, Lucius.

by Anon

My experience of abuse by a member of clergy is ongoing. Like many in my position, I was not fully aware of the severity until a critical point was reached: a single point in time, which denotated explosive chain reactions, revelations, and confrontations. In the immediate aftermath—dazed, air still shimmering with fallout—I considered why the word victim didn’t resonate with me, but the word survivor did.

Was my discomfort due to the fact that victim can imply a lack of agency? Or because the word maintains a link to the abuser? No, I decided. It’s the inert state that troubles me: the sense that a victim is the result of a finite series of actions. The implication that this status is permanent and cannot be altered further. The premise that the identification of a victim and a perpetrator means justice has been served. The assumption that a victim continues to live without any expenditure of effort or energy, floating like wreckage upon the waves: that there are no aching muscles or gasping breaths, no frantic treading of water. The active and continuing nature of the word survivor seemed preferable to any of this.

Survival is work. It is work without any tea breaks or days off. Abuse doesn’t magically stop once a report is made; it often intensifies after the survivor attempts to sever contact with the abuser. The entire process by which one reports abuse is inherently traumatic. Physical, psychological, spiritual, and financial effects are not resolved by filing a safeguarding report. When people talk about survivors, often they are speaking about people who must actively choose to survive every single day, hour, minute. Struggling with the effects of trauma is often perceived as weakness. I have heard clergy speak with discomfort about the safeguarding training they had to undergo, as if they were above contemplating non-abstract crimes and abuse. They don’t want to think about such concrete things, about the wickedness human beings are capable of committing. Neither do survivors, but survivors have no choice in the matter.

Abuse reverberates; it ripples, sending shockwaves backwards and forwards in time. It rips through past, present, and future. The damage is irrevocable and irreparable. Memories become tainted by new information. The present is an unbearable landscape of bureaucracy and sadness, an endless battle stretching into the distance. Hope is stripped from the future. When the Church delays the outcome of a case, when it deliberately lets a case stagnate, when it blocks paths to justice and resolution, there is no discernible future.   

How do you measure a life in limbo? How do you quantify time irretrievable? The loss of opportunities, the stagnation of career or education? The isolation, the exhaustion, the shame, the fear? The absence of smiles, of joy, of dreams, of the desire to dream? The insomniac nights, or the ones filled with nightmares – which weigh heavier on the scales of torment? Is it worse to dream, unwillingly, of my abuser, or to lie awake, unwillingly, yearning for justice from a Church whose accountability to survivors is lacking? From a Church that would prefer I didn’t exist?

The act of reporting abuse by a clergy member represents a deed of tremendous faith in the Church—and, by extension, in the safeguarding policies and machinery in place (ostensibly) to protect parishioners. Once a report is made, a special relationship exists between the Church and the survivor. In some sense, a fiduciary duty is created. Reporting abuse entails a great deal of risk, especially when one lives with one’s abuser or is otherwise vulnerable. A survivor may be putting their life on the line to file a safeguarding report. This amount of trust and risk must be met with the highest standards of care and respect.

What should that standard of care look like? At the very least, it must include adhering to Anglican safeguarding policies as they are written.

As I agonised over reporting my abuser, I read every scrap of information on the safeguarding website for the Church of England. I read every policy, procedure, and guideline applicable to my situation, and many that were not. (This is part of the immense unpaid work a survivor must do.) My decision to file a safeguarding allegation was predicated on this information. I noted how a survivor was required to be supported throughout the process, and what other avenues were open to me for counselling and help. I educated myself about safeguarding agreements, clergy disciplinary measures, and the roles various individuals were meant to play in relation to the complainant and the recipient.

I trusted with my whole heart that this process would be followed.

What happened (and is happening) instead continues to shock me. Relying on written safeguarding policies was a grave mistake, as these have not been followed. I have learned that even a case of recent abuse with copious evidence can be handled horrifically by the Church. After writing a detailed account of the abuse I suffered at the hands of a clergy member, I now must continually document the neglect, delay, and abuse committed by those involved with the safeguarding case—people I trusted to protect me and others. Every failure to act, every delay, every obstacle feels like a beating. This is nothing less than institutional violence. And, perhaps more importantly, it entails work. Exhausting, emotionally draining, unpaid work. This, too, is the work of surviving.

It is hard to think of a single example in all of history when perpetrators of oppression successfully carried out a reformation of their own behaviour—or even tried. Discussions of institutional accountability often include the question, “Who watches the watchmen?” The gist is that those who police are fallible and must themselves be policed. Accordingly, the February 2025 general synod of the Church of England rejected an independent safeguarding structure. So, who is watching the watchmen? Survivors. Survivors are the ones keeping the Church accountable. The very people who have been doubted and ostracised are the ones testing the rickety scaffolding of Anglican safeguarding policies and exposing the faults. But survivors do this at their own risk. Such risk is not only psychological. John 3.20 states, “For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed.” Do not underestimate what a person will do to avoid exposure. There are survivors who have good reasons to fear for their lives.

In examining the Bible for passages about honesty and truth, I ran into problems. I am neither a pastor nor a theologian, but it became painfully obvious that one must be very cautious in interpreting the word “truth” in the New Testament. Most if not all references pertain to Christ, or to the specific truth of the Gospel. Of course, Scripture condemns deceit and preaches honesty, but misappropriating these references to truth would bring no comfort; it is hard to fool oneself when one knows better.

I did realise two things while considering Scripture and the voices of survivors. First, survivors of clergy abuse carry within themselves a great truth—a truth much greater than blood and bone. They bear the trauma of betrayal by a Church they (may) love, by clergy they trusted, by a system they believed, and seemingly by God. They carry this burden inside of them and continue to bear witness to truth—if not through words, then through their continued existence in the face of adversity. Second, remaining silent is torture for a survivor who feels compelled to speak. For those who feel the prick of obligation, what they have endured and continue to endure must see the light of day. The survivors who report and who speak represent innumerable survivors who cannot. Voices for the voiceless. 

The delays and failures of the Church in handling safeguarding reports and in providing support for survivors are shameful enough. On top of this, survivors are often ordered to remain silent, while issuing no such directive to the (alleged) perpetrator. Furthermore, there is no reward for good behaviour; survivors are given no additional respect for complying with gag orders. There is merely more neglect, delay, and covering-up. I am now convinced that there is no “perfect victim” of clergy abuse. There exists no model for a mythical survivor who is instantly believed and supported by the Church of England. The notion of a “perfect victim” is damaging regardless, but its complete absence here is noteworthy. It is more appropriate to view survivors of clergy abuse as whistleblowers. It was only within this framework that I could begin to comprehend why the Church treats survivors as cruelly as it does and why the Church would seek to silence survivors’ voices.

There are days, and nights, when I feel the truth in every heartbeat; its sheer power threatens daily to undo every joint and sinew in my body. I do not speak for all survivors, but I know that this great and horrifying reality cannot dwell quietly within me for the rest of my days. We cannot be friends, or even bitter roommates, in this temple. Truth be told, and quickly.

It is a sorry situation when church leadership in three parts of the United Kingdom is being challenged and called into question at precisely the same moment.  To misquote Oscar Wilde ‘it is one thing to have church leadership challenged in one province, but to have three put under scrutiny at the same time is careless’.   The critical calling out of the Archbishop of Wales, the Archbishop of York and the Primus of the Scottish Episcopal Church at the same moment must be an unprecedented event.  It is also traumatising to the other members of those bodies under their oversight, especially those in positions of leadership themselves.

Readers of my blog will be familiar with the background to the current turmoil in Scotland, Wales and England involving church leadership.  The precise reasons for unhappiness need not be rehearsed here, as there are other places, e.g. Thinking Anglicans, where the facts, such as we have, are explored.   There is also nothing to be gained by joining in a blame game.  Insofar as this is necessary, it has already been done by others with a greater grasp of all the facts than I have.  What I do wish to consider here is to try and imagine what it must be like to be one of the church leaders under fire and having, not only their decision-making questioned, but also their integrity.

Exposure to criticism is one of the costs of occupying a position of high office in any walk of life.  The job of CEO of a business leads one open to massive scrutiny, but the rewards in terms of salary and pension rights can be eye-wateringly huge.  One of the ways that pressure and stress are managed in high-flying secular jobs is through the fact that executive positions seem relatively secure.  Even if the company you are in charge of loses money and your resignation from this company is demanded, it seldom seems to prevent you, the leader, from successfully moving to head up another company.  A senior member of the clergy is in a much more fragile situation.  The ‘tied cottage’ method of employment means that the threat of losing or leaving a post represents a greater threat to well-being and welfare.  A clergy person, forced for whatever a reason to depart from a post, will typically have no property, no savings and no immediate prospect of obtaining new employment.  New opportunities for retraining get increasingly challenging and difficult, especially after the age of 50.   It is also not easy getting on the short lists for an incumbency position after the age of 58/59.  In short, it is highly risky treading the path of a clerical maverick.  The possibility of ending up homeless, impoverished and alone is just too great.

Taking risks in one’s style for practising leadership in today’s church is thus not to be recommended.   Making the wrong decision can seriously rebound and the harms that can descend on the clergy leaders and their families are possibly catastrophic.  Recycling senior clergy, even with decades of practical experience behind them, is not easy either.  Some senior clergy successfully move ‘down’ from cathedral canon or dean to incumbent status and seem to thrive.  This option is not given to very senior clergy who have reached the status of bishop.  Such clergy have reached a point in the trajectory of promotion where ‘demotion’ does not seem to happen.  Some defensive cord is wrapped around them, and the only viable option for a bishop who fails badly in the complex task of leadership is retirement.  One such episcopal departure covered by Surviving Church was enormously complex and cost the Church a great deal of money to resolve.

This consideration of even the possibility of career collapse among the clergy is a prelude to the thought that the clerical profession carries with it considerable pressure and stress.  My thoughts about the three leaders of the branches of the Anglican Church that we have mentioned as being currently under pressure, is to consider the stress they have been and are under.  Calls for them to resign, whether deserved on not, must be hard to bear.  Whatever their failings, they are human beings having to deal with opprobrium, and this must directly attack their quality of life.  No one becomes ordained with the expectation of having to face levels of stress that could cause Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  For leaders to know that there are people who want to attack and put pressure on them, is a hard burden to carry.  Having to face the hostility of individuals who hate your position on the LGBT issue, or the ministry of women is also very debilitating, spiritually and physically.  There cannot be many clergy who have not felt something in the way of political or personal opposition which has been the cause of unhappiness and stress.  Such episodes, especially for bishops, must have the tendency to spill over into family life.  The question that immediately comes into one’s mind is this:  Why would anyone accept the perceived gratification of high office in the church in return for PTSD levels of stress? Another way of asking the same question is to wonder whether we are reaching the point where candidates of ability routinely turn down senior posts for fear that their mental health might be compromised, if not destroyed. 

In last week’s Church Times there appeared a half page advertisement for the post of Dean of Bangor Cathedral.  The number of suitable candidates is first restricted by the requirement to speak and write Welsh.  The numbers who can cross this first hurdle and then feel able to offer themselves for consideration to be a church leader in this part of Wales will be tiny.   It will shrink further, possibly to zero, when the candidates acquaint themselves with the current crises at Bangor.  Candidates have to be prepared to negotiate an extremely tense and volatile set of issues related to finance, safeguarding and personal relationships.  Does the Archbishop of Wales really expect to find someone who is prepared to handle all the issues when so much has yet to be resolved in the Cathedral and Diocese? It requires super-human qualities that surely would be already manifest in one of the Welsh speaking clergy of the province, if such abilities in one person existed.

The gloomy point I am arriving at is to suggest that senior posts in the Church are becoming so complex and stressful that there may soon be insufficient people with the skills, calibre and mental stamina able to do them well enough to allow the Church to function well.   Looking at the impossible list of requirements for the next Archbishop of Canterbury, one wonders if a person with the right qualities and abilities actually exists.  One suspects that some who might be qualified to do major sections of the A/C’s tasks may have already withdrawn their names in a desire to escape the crushing responsibilities of the post.   We are still processing the news of a candidate for the Bishopric of Durham pulling out of the race at quite a late stage.  Perhaps the word race suggests a completely inappropriate image.    You can only have a race if there are several runners or riders ready to compete.  At Durham, Canterbury and in Wales those who operate behind the scenes collecting competitors, seem to be having a hard task getting the candidates to enter starters orders.

 A recent article on the net about the lot of clergy, addressed the issue of burnout.  Certainly, something has to happen if this problem of stress and burnout trauma is not to destroy the energy and vitality of those who lead and work for the Church.  One or both of two things must happen.  Either a great deal of thought and planning must be given to making the clerical task doable, by offering much more in terms of support, training and proper R & R.  The second thing is that the senior clergy should never be put in the position of having to manage a situation where they do not have relevant skills and competence.  The failures in church safeguarding have come about partly as the result of an institutional hubris which seemed to be saying that anyone can do the work with minimal skills and training.  Being out of one’s depth should never be a cause of shame, but a sign of the right kind of humility.   ‘I cannot do this, please help me’ should indicate a Church where giving and receiving are part of the routine fabric of its life.  Such a Church is one worth belonging to – a place where hardships and struggle are alleviated by sharing, as well as glimpses of joy in service.                                                                                                                                                                                   

Mr. Martin Sewell, 8 Appleshaw Close, Gravesend, Kent, DA11 7PB

To:     Marsha De Cordova MP, Second Estates Commission, House of Commons.

           Dr. Helen Earner, Senior Director, Charity Commission, London.

           Richard Moriarty, Financial Reporting Council, London.

cc:      Archbishops’  Council (AC), General Synod Members (GSM), National Safeguarding Team (NST) of the Church of England (CofE), London.

22^nd May 2025

Dear Marsha, Helen and Richard,

I write as a member of the General Synod of the Church of England who has taken a special interest in the injustices of victims of abuse at the hands of the Church of England (CofE). I have been a primary advocate for their grievances, and I believe I enjoy a significant degree of trust in articulating their concerns to which I have listened with care and respect.

In this letter I raise matters of widespread disquiet not only of victims but also of a

significant number of Synod members in relation to the financing and functioning of CofE safeguarding operations. Ordinarily such a letter would be directed to the trustees (Archbishops’ Council – AC) of the national structures as the responsible body. However, all trust and confidence in the governance of the CofE – whether General Synod (GS), the NST or AC – is broken. We have seen that when serious issues of probity and legal process are raised, together with fiscal accountability and proper transparency, the issues are sidestepped or covered up.  

There is now cogent evidence to believe that examples of legal and fiscal malpractice have occurred and have not been properly addressed. So, on behalf of seriously concerned parties I now ask that, as a matter of urgency, you formally initiate investigation of these concerns.  In summary, the primary concerns are as follows

1. Payouts for interim support allegedly made by the CofE to abuse victims, and featured in their public audited accounts, do not accord with the monies which victims claim that they have actually received. The evidence for these alleged discrepancies has been made available for analysis by the victims. Whether the issue is one of unclear presentation, faulty process, technical error or worse, victims receiving payments must be entitled to a clear explanation to address their concerns. 

I am authorized to send you prima facie evidence on condition that I secure your agreement to investigate the matters, consult with the victims and provide them with your findings on these alleged disparities in the audited accounts. 

• A public letter and Press release have been issued by the Church’s victims of abuse. (See: https://survivingchurch.org/2025/05/15/press–release–from–isbsurvivors–group/). It speaks in terms of misconduct in public office and mendacity by that Church’s leadership, including the General Synod of which I am a member. Like the Post Office sub-postmasters such accusations need to be properly investigated, and I ask that you do so. Whether or not these are fair accusations, they are heartfelt, and truth must be must at the very least be independently evaluated. The pain and distrust expressed in the letter are plain, the language unattractive, at times but the allegations must not be dismissed on that basis alone.

• Various attempts have been made to bring the Secretary General (and CEO) of the CofE to account for his actions on matters of safeguarding. These have been repeatedly suppressed by the AC, through reference to a secret process described as “private”, within which the form of inquiry itself and the reasoning supporting the “no further action” outcome, remain secret. The Church has repeatedly and publicly asserted that it has repented past cover-ups and that it now embraces and upholds the principles of ‘transparency and accountability’. Yet this is patently untrue in the case of its Chief Executive. An independent report by a professional psychologist complementing the findings of the Wilkinson Review confirmed that the Secretary General had caused “significant harm” to victims. This was submitted to the AC – who effectively chose to ignore the findings.

Another well documented case relates to the Secretary General misleading an abuse survivor and securing the dismissal of a complaint against himself under the same secret process (see: https://www.thinkinganglicans.org.uk/safeguardingbishop–admits–that–survivor–was–misled/). This unaccountability in the principal officer is not a trivial matter and cannot but undermine public confidence in the national institution. Both cases, and the processes by which they were dismissed need to be urgently and independently investigated, not least in respect of why the Audit Committee of the AC has not accorded such matters serious consideration and reported to Synod.  The membership of that committee currently lacks any external member exercising oversight and that fact is itself the subject of victim disquiet and lack of trust.

• Recent work by the late Clive Billenness, a forensic auditor, General Synod member and elected member of the Audit Committee of the AC, showed that potentially falsified and forged evidence presented within the Church’s legal disciplinary process required proper independent investigation. (On this see: https://survivingchurch.org/2024/12/16/the–weaponization–of–safeguarding/). The case represents a prime example of ‘the weaponization of safeguarding’ referenced in the Jay Report. Similar accusation has been identified in other cases relating to innocent CofE clergy, notably the late Revd. Alan Griffin who had committed suicide in consequence (c.f. https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk–englandlondon–58326903).  Such weaponization resulted in no disciplinary action in either case being taken against the alleged perpetrators. The prima facie findings of Clive Billenness must be independently tested.

The letter of the ISB Survivors Group – to whom the CofE promised swift justice more than two years ago – demonstrates that all statements on CofE safeguarding made by its Lead Safeguarding Bishop, the Archbishops or trustees (AC) are now viewed with distrust and disdain. All attempts to secure accountability transparency and justice have failed.  No part of the institution functions properly honourably and consistently for its victims. No resolution is currently in sight.

I formally request that the recipients of this letter, as the only relevant external regulators, initiate the urgent investigations now required. There can be no confidence restored in the operation of the charity (i.e., the Archbishops’ Council) until the regulators initiate proper action.

This is an Open Letter, in order that parishes, congregations and churches, and those engaged in any other related charitable work and its governance, can be reassured that when extremely serious matters of fiscal probity and conduct in governance are raised, the public

can see that the statutory regulating bodies will act. I have copied the letter to the Archbishops’ Council and to the members of General Synod.

Yours sincerely,  

Martin Sewell

by Martyn Percy

In a famous scene from The Matrix movie, there is moment which offers a tantalizing insight into drugs that have the power to awaken any pill-popper to three quite different hidden realities. A red pill inducts the consumer into a world of secret right-wing truths. A white pill will persuade the user that the situation of the wider world is rather better than you had imagined. A black pill, once digested, tells you know just how doomed we really are.

It is hardly a hidden reality that the story of the Church of England in the 21^st century has been largely shaped by a cocktail of black and white pills. In just 25 years there have been countless prophecies of doom, with alarm bells ringing to announce the next imminent crisis (i.e., pensions, vocations, ageing-dwindling congregations, soaring costs, abuse scandals, etc) that are of the black pill variety.  And there have been legions of initiatives that are white-pilled, and purport to reverse every negative trend.  The result is a church addicted to prescriptions and remedies in ever-higher dosage that boasts every shade of grey.

At the same time, there are a handful of commentators who only see red pills, as though the Church of England was being taken over by a small handful of right-wing ideologies. Personally, I doubt this very much. The Church of England and the wider global Anglican church is simply being consumed by process. Executive managerialism has become the parasite of eating the organism from the inside. What the church once consumed is now consuming it from within. This is a church being hollowed out by processes it neither comprehends – nor can expel.

The last time the Papal office and the Archbishop of Canterbury role were both vacant simultaneously was 334 years ago. Canterbury was vacated after the then-Archbishop was refused to swear allegiance to William and Mary and the office vacant between February 1690 and May 1691. The Papacy was also vacant following the death of Pope Alexander VIII in February 1691, with a new Pope not elected until 161 days later.

Modern conclaves tend to be rather quicker.  Cardinals will hear about the death of a Pontiff within moments of his passing.  The cardinals can gather fast, and the demands of a media age probably means they get down to business quickly.  Even with over 130 voting members of the conclave, the selection of Pope Leo XIV took just four rounds of voting over two days to emerge as the chosen candidate. The white smoke is an emoji to signal the new era.

The process for choosing the next Archbishop of Canterbury could hardly be more different. Having agreed to resign in November 2024, the process for selecting a successor to Justin Welby has quickly lurched from tragedy to farce. There is a dispute over the nominated electors from Canterbury Diocese, and a further dispute over the rules to elect the electors. The likelihood of a name emerging by the autumn seems slim, even though there are only 17 people on the committee to make this decision.  The committee is another aspect of the Church of England’s Grey-sphere.

If a picture is worth around a thousand words, then the images of all the cardinals gathered in identical kit for the funeral of Pope Francis and then for the conclave to elect Pope Leo XIV are telling.  And certainly, when compared to the last Lambeth Conference for Anglican bishops gathered from across the world.

The conclave and its attendant public liturgies presented an impressive regiment of imperial uniform (red robes eerily resonant of Atwood’s Handmaid’s Tale). Unity and uniformity are dress coded. The Anglican gathering, in contrast, looks more like a liturgical garage sale and charity shop rummage. Little matches. Disunity and diversity are dress coded too. Bishops wear what they want.  Some bishops – notably Sydney Archdiocese – decline to wear liturgical attire at all, if it can be avoided.

In contrast, the pictures of the funeral for Pope Francis could have been lifted from a well-choreographed scene in the Star Wars movies. The zoned marshalling in St. Peter’s Square represents an expression of imperial ordering. Yet at the same time, framed by ordinary mourners expressing their gratitude for their Pope and Father in God.

At the Conclave in Rome

The Lambeth Conference

The contrast between a conclave (the term means, literally, ‘a locked room’) to elect a Pope and the committee set up to choose a new Archbishop of Canterbury are as night and day. The former is rooted in two millennia of prayer-soaked practice. The latter is a secular process with an added spiritual gloss. Yet the committee will be just as secret.

The body charged with choosing the next Archbishop of Canterbury represents a hangover from an English colonial civil service culture where key decisions and appointments are made behind closed doors in some private smoke-filled room of a London club. Take away the smoke and the club for 21^st century sensibilities, and you’re essentially left with the same process. True, there is a nod to democracy (though the nominees given the task of electing are currently the subject of dispute). Yet as a committee, there is more opacity than one might encounter at a conclave.

What can’t be addressed by the next incumbent of Lambeth Palace is the unresolved nature of the Church of England’s identity. Since 1834 many Anglicans have bought into the myth that it has two pedigrees. On the one hand it is Protestant Reformed. On the other hand, it is Catholic. Some Anglicans go further, and entertain fantasies of reunion with Rome, forgetting that the core theology of the Church of England is Reformed Protestantism, and that the Head of the Church is the reigning English monarch, not the occupant of the Vatican.

This confusion of identity cuts no ice at the proverbial Church-Crufts Show. Anglicanism is a hybrid; a mongrel denomination that is sartorially and liturgically Catholic (sometimes), but theologically and organisationally Protestant (sometimes). Anglican Bishops dressed in purple are left stranded in the middle, trying to hold together two slowly bifurcating tectonic plates. Today, most English Anglican Bishops enjoy unchecked executive power, but with almost no pedigree of theological nous. Their real authority lies in pastoral praxis, but few have the energy to inhabit that aspect of their role. Bishops are often found to be desk-bound bureaucrats, firing off emails and issuing shiny-white-pill policy documents with fanciful vision statements, warding off the panic attack side-effects of corporate black-pill addiction.

The next incumbent of Lambeth Palace could do worse and take an honest and serious look at the identity issues that have lain unaddressed since the Church of England divorced itself from Rome in 1534.  Anglicanism is essentially a branch of Protestantism.  True, and unlike other Reformed churches, Anglicans kept their bishops and some of its clergy and churches continue to adapt their liturgies and clerical dress codes from Rome. Others do not, and opt for a more ‘happy-clappy’ style of worship. There is no central power or authority in Anglican polity to counter the exercise of such freedoms and unable to police its diversity.

There is no liturgical uniformity.  There is no central system of canon law. Many Anglican Provinces do not require affirmation of the thirty-nine articles of faith. Some Provinces have outlawed liturgical practices and clerical attire that became fashionable through Victorian ritualism. Theologically and organisationally, Anglicanism is essentially a Protestant expression of Christianity. Some Anglican churches will avoid using the prayer of confession in liturgy. Others have liturgies of baptism that feel more like a service of exorcism.

What the Church of England needs is serious authentic clarity. It is time to stop pretending that global Anglicanism is like Roman Catholicism, and in the same global orbit. It isn’t. This current process to choose a new Archbishop of Canterbury cannot possibly inspire confidence or attract affection, trust or faith. The committee is a crystallisation of the confused mindset that reflects the state that the Church of England finds itself in. Like the black-white pill cocktail, a committee-led process is bound to produce yet another shade of grey.

The next Archbishop cannot come from a conclave. Nor, alas, can she or he emerge from the kinds of democratic, open and transparent election processes that some other parts of global Anglicanism have adopted for electing bishops.  An elitist English Anglican establishment will always shy away from egalitarian ecclesiology. But if the Church of England were to own its Protestant identity more explicitly, it might find that a genuinely democratic synod would attract far more public support than some secretive committee ever could.

PRESS RELEASE – FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

DATE: 14^th May 2025

Survivors of Church Abuse Demand Action from the Archbishop of York

The ISB Survivors Group has today issued the attached open letter to the Archbishop of York.

We are survivors of abuse within the Church of England. We are the very individuals who were promised independent reviews by the Church, following the Independent Inquiry into child sexual abuse (IICSA). Many of us had already begun our reviews through the Independent Safeguarding Board (ISB) — until the Archbishops’ Council abruptly dismissed the ISB Board Members, halting the process and denying us the justice we were due.

Our group includes IICSA core participants, survivors of Bishop Peter Ball, and victims of John Smyth, amongst others. Some of us have been battling for our complaints — including those against senior bishops and Archbishops’ Council members — to be heard for over 30 Years.

It has now been almost two years since the dismissal of the ISB Board. No meaningful or credible alternatives for resuming our reviews have been proposed. While the Archbishop of York has agreed to meet with us, he continues to refuse discussion of the very issues we need to address.

For 23 months, we have been left without any independent support. The Church’s proposed

“independent” support included individuals closely connected to the National Safeguarding Team (NST) — a blatant conflict of interest. The “independent” advocate assigned to survivors worked directly for the Church of England. One other complication is that the Archbishop of York’s own behaviour would be subject to scrutiny in the very reviews that he is effectively preventing from progressing.

We are exhausted by the Church’s failure to act and by what we perceive as manipulative stalling from both the Archbishop of York and the deeply discredited National Safeguarding Team. The re-abuse and cruelty needs to stop.

Our lives have already been shattered by horrific, sadistic, and systemic abuse. We will not tolerate continued mistreatment from an institution that professes to follow Christ.

Media Contact:

Name: Marie-Louise Flanagan – independent press spokesperson

Email: marie-louise@step2mediation.com

Phone: 07498 847665

An Open letter to The Archbishop of York and Archbishops Council

Dear Archbishop Cottrell,

STRICTLY WITHOUT PREJUDICE

We are in receipt of your communication sent to Dame Jasvinder Sanghera in early February and after much consideration individually, as well having met as a group, are now ready to reply. All of us agreed that the best word to describe your letter was “abusive” and that consequently need to say that we find that it impossible to see Jesus in you.

Your abusive letter has made us realize that if we were to engage any further with you, even with the assistance of others, or to engage with your fellow members of the Archbishops’ Council, their agents (let alone your utterly discredited and menacing national safeguarding staff), that there is a substantial risk that it might be seen by others as a sign that it was perhaps safe for them to engage with you in any way. However, it is very clear to us, having read and deliberated upon the contents of your letter, that there is a very high risk that you potentially expose us to experiencing substantially worse further trauma that would cause us (already victims of sexual and spiritual abuse from your organization) irreparable and in some cases even mortal harm.

Archbishop Cottrell, we see you as a diabolical monster bent on causing us further harm and after receiving your letter we shall not communicate with you, your colleagues or agents any further: quite simply we do not believe it would be safe for us to do so. Consequently, we strongly advise any other vulnerable man, woman or child also to keep away from you and your discredited organization – one that seems to delight in its core business of causing everincreasing violence against those who are vulnerable.

You use the word “robust” to describe safeguarding in your church, however your often repeated use of this word merely means to us an escalation in the abuse that we continue to receive from you and your business organization. For many of us, we see in you an individual worse than Bishop Peter Ball or John Smyth –  indeed some of us wonder whether your desire to harm us is based in a similar perversion of Jesus and His love.

Christians are supposed to show the Light of Christ but in you, Archbishop Cottrell, we see merely darkness – no doubt your insistence to meet with Dame Jasvinder Sanghera and Mr Reeves “on a private and confidential basis” would also be held by you in the dark – a refuge to which you are perhaps unseemingly more inclined than the Light of Jesus.

Finally, as for your “apologies to all survivors for the trauma they have experienced” and that you wish to “seek to find a way forward to minimize any further trauma to the group” (failing to mention seeking to address the substantial harm you, your colleagues and business agents have already caused), from our own experience we simply do not believe a word of it and never will – nor arguably should anyone else. 

We suggest that you appoint a TRULY Independent Alternative Dispute Resolution (ADR) to move things forward URGENTLY. 

Yours sincerely,

The ISB SURVIVORS GROUP

The past 48 hours in the news cycle make life very hard for a blog writer trying to keep up.  A matter of hours ago the only Pope being discussed was the one who had died on Easter Monday, and whose funeral had created the powerful image of two leaders having an informal meeting in St Peter’s Rome.  For all its importance, that image of Trump and Zelensky seated facing one another in the Basilica has been swept away by many new images from Rome, cheering crowds and signs of enthusiasm from Catholics all over the world.  Many non-Catholics, including myself, have been delighted to see the juggernaut of extreme right-wing ideas, as embodied by the MAGA forces of Trump, brought to a halt momentarily.  This continues the trend shown in the welcome election results in Canada and Australia.  The democratic instincts of ordinary people, which include a body of conservative men voting in the conclave in Rome, have reassured us that a worldwide drift towards fascism is not after all the will of the mass of people.  We can after all look forward to a future where liberal humane values exist and democratic instincts, despite the way they create untidiness in society, still prevail.

Pope Leo has indicated that he will, in his choice of name and his past record, be likely to keep many of the emphases of his predecessor alive.  This will include care for the poor, refugees and those marginalised by unjust systems, whether political or economic.  As has come to be expected of the majority of senior church figures of every denomination, his record of care for survivors and the pursuit of justice on their behalf is not flawless.  There is an incident recorded in Wikipedia page for Leo which indicates a preference to preserve the reputation of the church institution over the imperatives of justice.  This ‘scandal’ will be mulled over by many people. I mention it, not as a way of suggesting that the appointment should not have been made, but rather to observe that every single Papal candidate in his past will likely have some safeguarding lapse buried, but not forgotten. 

It is with the expectation that, at best, every candidate will have had a mixed record over safeguarding, that we can look back over the reign of Pope Francis and forward to that of Pope Leo.  Many eulogies have been made over Francis but repeating them is not the task of this blog.  What I find interesting is in the way that the good in Francis could be combined with aspects of failure, even evil.  Seeing only the good in someone is always going to create a one-sided, even distorted picture.  This would be the same for any of our lives.  Failing to even comment on serious failings in a person’s life may create an unhealthy situation.  The process of grieving is unlikely to be completed if there is a family myth which members are desperate to preserve at all costs.   To take an imaginary situation which will reflect what most clergy have witnessed.  Grandpa’s cruel behaviour towards his wife over 40 years of marriage has to be hushed up.   The family are not just rallying round to protect the family from the taint of scandal.  They are also aware that any discussion of Grandpa’s unacceptable behaviour will show up a part of the family in their failure to do more to challenge this behaviour and protect Grandma.  Listening to eulogies that are effectively ‘fake news’ is painful and in some way corrupting in equal measure.

Those who will study and scrutinise the life and reputation of Francis have plenty of material to assimilate and discuss.  The question as to whether he struck the right balance in relating to the dictatorial regime of Argentina, when Archbishop of Buenos Aires, will be a topic for historians for many decades to come.  For the purpose of this reflection, the focus is not on his skill in managing to negotiate a path through the tortuous path of Argentinian politics, but whether he served the cause of the victims and survivors of clerical abuse – a situation of enormous shame and harm to the work of the Catholic Church in every part of the world.

I write about child abuse in the Catholic Church with absolutely no desire to sound triumphalist by comparing it with the record of other communions, like the Anglican Church.  No church of any denomination emerges particularly well from the hundreds of cases that have come to light over the past 25 years or so.  While one can argue about the extent of the problem in comparing Catholic and Anglicans, the important question is perhaps which Communion is further ahead in actually dealing with the problem more effectively.  The death of Pope Francis and the new arrival of Pope Leo has brought to the surface once more the cry of survivors and their demand to be heard.  These suggest that late Pope said many of the right things about abuse, spending time with victims and expressing sorrow over their suffering.   Somehow, he seldom seems to have followed up his words with decisive action.   The BBC website carried a story about a woman called Alexa MacPherson who suffered sexual abuse from a RC priest for as long as six years from the age of three.   The priest was eventually sentenced by a court to a period in jail.  What horrified Alexa when she examined the paperwork connected with the case as an adult, was the way that the Church had used its power and influence to obtain favours from the justice system to mitigate the sentence of the offending priest.  The case was one of many that involved the intervention of Cardinal Bernard Law.  Cardinal Law, always anxious to protect the reputation of the institution above checking the poison of clerical abuse, was allowed to find refuge in Rome, being put in charge of a prestigious parish.  He died in 2018, effectively exonerated from his gross failures of care.  Francis did not ever take any action against him but allowed him to remain in post despite his notoriety in the eyes of the public.

 In writing this reflection, I would not want to claim that the record of Catholic bishops and priests is either better or worse than that of Anglicans.  Both hierarchies are guilty of causing terrible suffering to children and vulnerable individuals by a combination of incompetence, sloth and wilful neglect.  To say that the powerful were in the business of preserving the less powerful and the institutions that they worked for is probably not far off the mark as a generalisation.  Where there is a contrast, and this applies to the Catholic Church under Pope Francis, is the attitude shown by senior UK Catholic leaders when faced with the appalling crimes of some of the priests under their oversight.  There were, it is true.,Anglican bishops, such as Eric Kemp of Chichester, who wrapped protective blankets around clergy clearly guilty of crimes.  Their capacity for creating a toxic dangerous culture for the young only stretched to the boundary of their dioceses.  The potential harm that a Pope can do, with a flawed sense of the importance of sticking up for potential victims, is enormous. Francis seems to have been successful at saying the pastorally sensitive words to the survivors, but he seems much less competent at confronting and disciplining those guilty of appalling crimes of abuse.

The UK government report on crimes of child abuse (ICSA) tried to bring into the open the record of Anglican and Catholic attempts to hide away the incidence of child abuse within their structures.  Both Churches had their stories of pain and cruelty committed against young innocent individuals, but the Catholic Church showed itself far less cooperative in releasing documents and generally sharing information which would assist an important Government body to have a full picture.  The Church hierarchy believed that such cooperation would contravene Canon Law and that such non-cooperation was permitted on the grounds that the instructions of the Vatican have the protection afforded to any foreign state.  This refusal to cooperate belied the words of Francis who, in May 2019 had said there needed to be “concrete and effective actions that in involve everyone in the Church” regarding its approach to child sexual abuse. 

It now remains to be seen whether the new Pope will deliver on the implied concern of his predecessor over the need to act in respect of child abuse.  Will he put the need for providing justice and healing for those in pain or will he continue to prioritise the glory and privileges of the Catholic Church?  History will eventually tell us which path is to be followed.

by Anon

Damon is an apprentice devil tasked with learning to undermine and weaken the Church of England and wider Anglicanism. Lucius is a senior devil mentoring apprentices overseeing the work on all denominations. Lucius refers to the Church of England as the ‘English Patient’. Lucius is particularly keen to encourage the Church of England’s peculiar ecclesionomics, bloated ecclesiocracy and unaccountable episcocrats. Lucius draws on C. S. Lewis’ Screwtape Letters, published in 1942. These letters are published by Lucius for the benefit of new apprentices. – Lucius.

One Swallow Does Not Make a Summer

Dear Lucius

I am getting very concerned about statistics. Or rather, what Anglicans seem to be reading into them.  There was some recent research appearing to show a resurgence – even a resurrection, it alarms me to say – in younger people coming to church. Apparently the trend is most notable amongst young men. 

I know I shouldn’t panic, because if the figures are to be believed (which is debatable), the upturn in numbers is only slight, and anyway confined to Pentecostalism, Catholicism and some fashionable Ultra-Reformed churches. These churches are not my responsibility. But I do worry that the talk of growth is stimulating Anglican morale, which concerns me.

Could you give me some sort of guidance on how to tackle this?  I’d like to nip it in the bud before it gets out of hand, and I think I need some strategic advice on what tactics to deploy if we are to undermine any apparent recovery.

Your Servant, Damon

Dear Damon,

You need not worry. One swallow does not make a summer, and these new numbers are, as you say, barely relevant to the primary focus of your work, which is the Church of England – the one we call the ‘English Patient’. If anything, the best thing to do now is to encourage English Anglicans in their belief that things are getting better.  The mirage will soon vaporise, leading to an even deeper decline in trust and confidence.

Sometimes it is helpful to see figures and statistics in a broader context.  I think you are aware that, recently, over 700 clergy wrote a letter to complain about their appalling pensions.  The English Patient’s finances are in a dreadful state. Most dioceses run massive annual deficits. Many cathedrals cannot break even. However, the episcopacy taxes the parishes even more, despite fewer people paying the quota.  It leads to an ever-deepening crisis of resentment and mistrust, which your predecessor did so much to cultivate. A few extra young people, if indeed there are any, won’t turn that tide.

You may recall that overall, the bloated ecclesiocracy and unaccountable episcocrats are just not trusted by the faithful.  Your English Patient is actually very poorly, but thankfully for us, in total denial about how unwell, what the sickness is, and how to restore their health.

Happily, they are clueless. More modish marketing and communications, evangelism, youth initiatives, vocation drives and stewardship schemes are all being pushed hard.  This is good news for us, because it deepens the alienation and despair, and also means the English Patient loses trust and confidence in all the remedies the leadership keeps on promoting.

It is also important to remember the scale of your problem.  We only need one apprentice to work with your patient, English Anglicanism, because it is so very small. But it continues to believe it is a Very Important And Big Long-term Enterprise (VIABLE). Helpfully for us, your English Patient imagines itself to be eternal, so the gaps between fantasy and reality keep causing your patient to have even more doubts.

You might like to look at the Roman Catholic Cycle of Prayer and compare it to the Anglican Cycle of Prayer for comfort and context. We have a very large team working on Roman Catholicism.

The Catholics have 3200 dioceses and 650 archdioceses, 225,000 parishes, over 400,000 priests, 50,000 permanent deacons, 650,000 monks and nuns, and nearly 3,000,000 catechists for their 1.3 billion followers. But it manages to get by with only 5,340 bishops. Believers who use the Roman Catholic Cycle of Prayer will pray for nine dioceses, daily.

The Anglicans have around 55 million followers (they’ll claim 80 million to big up their size, but that includes 25 million in England, where attendance is down to just over 0.5 million, and two-thirds of the laity are retired people). Your English Patient has too many dioceses and bishops for too few believers.

Global Anglicanism has 855 dioceses, which means believers pray for around two of them each day when using the Anglican Cycle of Prayer. Yes, Anglicans are small potatoes.  Globally, Roman Catholics outnumber Anglicans by over 25:1. In percentages, Anglicans constitute about 3.5% of what Roman Catholicism represents. Anglicanism is 96.5% smaller.

However, your VIABLE Anglican Communion has amassed almost 900 bishops, despite its small size. There is one bishop for every 0.25 million Roman Catholics. Yet there is one Anglican bishop for every 60,000 from your denomination. Not for nothing is your English Patient known as ‘Episcopalian’ outside England.  It seems that when it comes to bishops, they just cannot get enough of them.

These numbers should comfort you.   The global population of Roman Catholicism is rising. Global Anglicanism is declining. This is largely due to birth rates, but your denomination continues to invest in recruitment drives hoping to attract newcomers to the Anglican family.

It is helpful to our cause that your English Patient believes it is in recovery, and can reverse decline.  And they won’t take any lessons from other declining denominations, because they think they are a special case. Your English Patient lives in two parallel conflicting universes. One knows it is declining. The other has to believe it isn’t, and the recession is only some blip.

Even more helpfully, your English Patient thinks it is on some par with Roman Catholicism. This fantasy should be strongly encouraged, because eventually reality will dawn, leading to deeper collapses in morale, trust and confidence.

But best of all, Anglicans fight amongst themselves about why, who or what is responsible for their decline. They will fight even more about who, what, how and when is the best way to recover.

As we’ve discussed before, Damon, your best bet here is to encourage the church leaders who claim to have all the answers.  We are blessed that your English Patient has many such people within its leadership, with the ecclesiocracy and episcocrats constantly trying to apply the Midas Touch to their truly dire ecclesionomics.

Above all, it is vital that we do all we can to support the English Patient in their belief that they have the best-equipped persons to make their own diagnoses and prognoses, promoting and manufacturing their remedies and therapies.

The English Patient thinks it does not need a doctor, and if it is unwell, it will eventually shake off the aches, fevers and other symptoms and soon be on the mend.

You must do all you can to encourage the English Patient in their belief that they are exceptional and unique, and don’t need any outside interference or help from real experts.  That way, tens of millions of pounds can be spent on safeguarding, for example, or on other initiatives that are bound to be a waste of time, effort and money, since your English Patient always thinks it knows best. Just let them carry on.

One swallow does not make a summer, and all this talk of growth and resurgence is like a single spring day in the midst of a long, hard winter that shows no sign of ending.

As the population of England grows, vocations continue to decrease – because clergy have few rights, too much responsibility, little support, and pitiful stipends and pensions to look forward to. Volunteers for roles in parishes are also declining.

The ecclesiocracy and episcocrats have created a church where the bosses are secure, unaccountable, unregulated, and generally well-paid. But the clergy and volunteers are over-regulated, accountable for virtually everything, and have never felt more undervalued and vulnerable.

Even if a few more young people were hanging out with your English Patient, all the interminable fudging on sexuality and gender means they won’t stay long and throw their weight behind the institution. Swallows come and go.

So, Damon, there’s no need to worry. The best thing to do with the English Patient is to keep an eye out for any significant changes. But otherwise leave the leaders to their own devices and desires. They will inflict more damage on their church than we could ever engineer.  Keep affirming their egos that they are VIABLE and the best-placed people to resolve crises of their own making. They believe and act as though they are a law unto themselves. The longer this continues, the faster they will decline.

Your Mentor, Lucius.

By Anon

The Easter Season once again brings no good news for the victims of abuse at the hands of the Church of England, and for those who have been harmed by its continuing betrayals, failures and dishonesty over safeguarding. In his Easter message for The Times (Credo, April 19), the Archbishop of York wrote of Gaza, Ukraine and Sudan, and the despair of its victims.  He was unable to see that the horrors, injustices and abuses abroad in the wider world happen in the Church of England too. Yet he offered no Easter hope for those caught up in never-ending cycles of abuse and cover-ups inside his own institution. The Archbishop’s Easter message was addressed to the world, ignoring all those still captive to the abuses perpetrated within his church. So we have rewritten his Credo homily (barely changing a word), but merely altering the subject.

“As John tells it in his Gospel, Jesus’s resurrection was met first with darkness and weeping. In times of uncertainty and upheaval, this detail frees us to see that lament and hope are not, after all, mutually exclusive.

When Easter arrives in John’s Gospel, it arrives amid darkness. Jesus’s body is gone from the grave. The moment is quiet, utterly unprecedented, and completely bewildering. And it brings the first witness to tears.

These tears are those of Jesus’s friend Mary Magdalene, shed as she desperately seeks him. Finding the tomb empty, she comes to the only reasonable conclusion: someone has stolen his body. Mary sobs. And yet soon she will come to recognise a seeming stranger to be Jesus himself.

That recognition dawns with Jesus’s soft speaking of her name, “Mary”. This gentle and intimate moment distils the wonder of Easter: tears first shed in sorrow are transformed to tears of joy before they’ve even finished trickling down the contours of Mary’s face. The same tears, transformed from sorrow to joy, are offered for the same Jesus, risen from death to life.

Mary’s tears, shed in anxiety and desolation, mourning, perhaps even in shame or regret, are familiar to many victims of injustice, betrayal, abuse and evil. But she shows us that those who shed tears of lament can do so while persevering in hope, even when tears of joy seem impossibly far off.

By the usual standards, Mary should have given up on Jesus as a catastrophically lost cause: he had been rejected, humiliated, executed, and placed in a tomb. Yet still she turns up in darkness, laments — and finally, wonderfully, finds stubborn hope fulfilled beyond her imagining.

Here, many victims of abuse can identify with both the tortured dead, Jesus, and the mourner who has had all hope and trust removed by a regime hell-bent on easy expediency and perpetrating injustice.

John’s account also emphasises that the risen Christ does not first reveal himself to people of power: not to the Roman governor, nor the chief priest, not even to the senior disciples, but rather to this weeping Mary. She is a victim, as Jesus was.

Jesus stands before her, not robed in finery, but wearing the scars of his torture and death on the Cross. The risen Jesus is greeted by no fanfare, no flourish, no powerful VIP visitors. Instead, he is greeted by Mary Magdalene sobbing amid darkness.

In the battle zones of the Church of England’s safeguarding debacles, and in the barren fields of moral famine we find in episcopacy, the rubble of lives left by the Church of England’s abuses and cover-ups (they never end), tears and darkness are among the very few things not in short supply. The suffering for the victims is beyond comprehension, and yet many people there will greet the dawn of Easter Day with Mary Magdalene’s mixture of lament for their situation and stubborn hope.

Increasingly, however, it seems that those of us who look on the Church of England from afar do so without hope. The temptation is to view these situations as simply intractable, unfixable. Easter dawn reminds us to both lament and hope stubbornly amid this great darkness.

I know that we must not abandon attempts to seek justice in the Church of England. Nor “move on” from our concern for the gross failures in our safeguarding policies and practices. We ought not to tolerate the destruction of victims of abuse as an uncomfortable side-effect of our ministry. Nor should we give up on striving to honour truth in our political and public conversation. But perhaps we should start such conversations inside the Church of England first? Because it’s getting difficult to talk about all the evil in the world when we won’t clean up our own backyard.

The unimaginable triumph of Easter dawned while it was still dark, and it was met with weeping. By lamenting and remaining stubbornly hopeful, Mary Magdalene refused to abandon the cause of good and right even amid confusion and darkness.

Whether or not you celebrate Easter, Mary’s example can help us address the uncertainties and darkness that we face with some stubborn hope. But please remember I am only talking about the wider world here, and not about the Church of England. We prefer to change the subject and look away from our sins and failings inside the church, maintain silence, and keep our deeds covered in the darkness.

At Easter, the last thing we want is the tombs disturbed with piercing truth and light, and the disruption of new life. You’ll have to look elsewhere for that. We like to keep our failures, abuses and sins buried where the public can’t see them.

Commenting later for The Times, Andrew Graystone, an advocate for abuse survivors, said that “trauma doesn’t take holidays”, noting that Easter could be a painful time for those who have been abused and ignored in the church. “The message of Easter is that the route to new life runs through betrayal, pain and death,” he said. “A church that tries to skirt around the harm it has done, or put it aside for a few days to focus on something else, will miss what the Easter story is about. Easter is an opportunity for the church to look evil in the eye, including its own evil.”