(From The Bang-up-to-Date Improvised Version)

by Anon

 The Parable of the Sower

Jesus told them many things in parables, saying: “A church leader went out to sow some safeguarding seed. But some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Others seed fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. Though it sprang up quickly, when the sun came up, the plants withered because they were scorched and had no soil for root. Other seed fell among thorns, which choked the plants.”

The disciples asked, “What on earth is the meaning of this parable?”

And Jesus replied: “The safeguarding seed is good, but it needs proper soil to grow, and an expert planter that knows what they are doing. In this parable, the ground is the church. The birds are the individuals who know how to steal the seed before it takes root. The rocks are the committees at diocesan level, who look as though they will support and sustain the seed. But this is bad soil, and after a brief growth spurt, the plant wilts and dies. All Diocesan soil is like this.

“But the weeds are the national-level bodies that do not want good things to grow. They hate righteous and proper processes that are rooted in justice, accountability, truth and sustainable goodness. Like weeds, they seek to block the light from the plants that are sown under them. These weeds will always strangle the life out of anything good. These are the thistles and knotweed that I have warned you about before. Beware of the leavening bad influence of these Teachers of the Law, and the Sadducees, Scribes and Pharisees, for they undermine and overshadow everything that comes near them.”

The Parable of the Weeds

Then Jesus told them another parable about weeds: “The church is like a pastor-farmer who sowed good safeguarding seed in God’s field.  But while everyone was asleep, an enemy came and deliberately planted weeds among the wheat. So when the wheat sprouted and formed heads, weeds also appeared.”

“The farmworkers came to the pastor-farmer and said, ‘Did you not sow the good seed in your field? So where did these weeds come from?’ The pastor-farmer replied: ‘An enemy did this’. The farmworkers asked, ‘Do you want us to go and pull them up?’ 

The pastor-farmer replied ‘No, because while you pull up the weeds, you will uproot the wheat with them.  Let both grow together until the harvest. Then I will tell the harvesters to collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned, and then to gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.’”

The Parable of the Weeds Explained

Later, the disciples came to Jesus and asked him to explain the parable of the weeds in the field. Jesus said: “The one sowing the safeguarding seed is a faithful servant, and committed to justice, truth and the church being a good place where all can grow and flourish. The field is the church.”

“The weeds are those who want to place impediments in the way of those who seek justice and truth, and bring light to the places of darkness, and life to the barren.  The weeds are those who seek to uproot the victims of abuse and survivors seeking justice. The weeds seek to strangle the life and light out of systems that yield transparency, accountability, justice and truth.”

“The weeds are the work of the enemy, but the weeds think the field of the church is theirs to grow in, and so they cultivate it for themselves. The weeds pretend to be good angels, but in reality they are just agents of the enemy. The weeds seek to destroy or delay the day of harvest and reckoning. All of their resources seek to cover up everything up and stop the seeds of truth sprouting. The weeds stop the light getting to the ground, and they conceal all manner of evil and corruption.”

The harvesters are the true angels – experts, advocates and supporters – who will fight and campaign to have the weeds removed and the ground cleared, so that the good safeguarding seed can grow. They toil away at the ground level, trying to enrich the soil, and so work tirelessly to remove the stones and rocks. They also know who plants the weeds.”

The Parables of the Mustard Seed and the Sourdough

Jesus told them another parable: “Safeguarding is like a mustard seed, which someone took and planted in their field. It is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches, and find safety in their nests and the shelter of the branches.”

Jesus told them another parable: “Safeguarding is like the special mould that a person baking bread takes and mixes into their blend flour, until it is all worked through into the sourdough ready for baking.”

The Parables of the Mustard Seed and the Sourdough Explained

The disciples again asked Jesus “What on earth do you mean by these parables?”

Jesus said to them: “The mustard tree is what the church is meant to become – a place of abundant life, fragrant blossom, seeds, fruit, shade, shelter, support for nesting birds and their young, many insects, moss and more besides. The church is from the tiniest seed of faith. As a tree, it cannot choose what it hosts, and for whom it provides food, home and shade.”

The disciples were puzzled, and asked Jesus why he did not speak of yeast, but chose instead to speak of common leaven.

Jesus replied: “Nobody has any yeast at home, as it is so rare and expensive. A baker can make bread that is unleavened and flat. Or, the baker can use their own leaven – the culture-mould that every household possesses. When I have told you before of the need to ‘guard against the leaven of Scribes and the Pharisees’, I infer their culture-mould will corrupt every batch of dough. Their bread will either be puffed-up and full of hot air. Or, it will be dense, lifeless and sour-tasting. The leaven of the Scribes and Pharisees is like the rulers of the church: their influence corrupts everything.”

Jesus did not say anything to them without using a parable.  So was fulfilled what was spoken through the prophets: “I will open my mouth in parables, I will utter things hidden since the creation of the world. To those who have ears, listen”.

Commentary

Leslie Hunter, in The Seed and the Fruit (SCM, 1953, p.12), offers this parable: As the threats of war and the cries of the dispossessed were sounding in our ears, humanity fell into an uneasy sleep.  In our sleep we dreamed that we entered the spacious store in which the gifts of God to humanity are kept, and addressed the angel behind the counter, saying: ‘We have run out of the fruits of the Spirit.  Can you restock us?’  When the angel seemed about to say ‘no’, we burst out: ‘In place of violence, terrorism, war, afflictions and injustice, lying and lust, we need love, joy, peace, integrity, discipline.  Without these we shall all be lost’.  And then the angel behind the counter replied, ‘We do not stock fruits here.  Only seeds.’ There are only safeguarding seeds. It is such a pity about the soil.

by Peter Reiss

Prophet Elisha

Within the longer section of that part of 2 Kings in which Elisha is the stand-out figure against the various kings, there is a particular nest of two stories about the Aramean (Syrian) invaders. In 2 Kgs 6 they are out to get Elisha, but instead Elisha calls down a blindness on them, and the Syrian forces are captured and led by Elisha into Samaria. They are not killed (as the king suggests) but Elisha gives them a feast and they are sent home.

Next the Arameans besiege Samaria, there is horrific famine, but then the Aramean army think they can hear a large force attacking them and they flee from Samaria leaving their food for the hungry inhabitants.

The two stories are linked in 6:24 by a simple “some time later”; we are not told of the build-up to the siege, but we hear of its effects; the king is walking on the walls and is challenged by two mothers who have had to resort to eating their own children to survive (vv26-31). The King’s response is that he will have Elisha beheaded and so ends the encounter. The King continues along the walls and the two women disappear from the narrative even more abruptly than they appeared.

The narrator now takes us to the interaction between King and prophet and then on to the end of the siege.

These four victims (mothers and children) are without doubt victims of war, though several commentators suggest the behaviour of the mothers makes them criminal, reprehensible, less than human. We do not have their names, but commentators call them “cannibal mothers”. Victims are much more easily ignored if we avoid finding their name, and if we can label them as something different or bad. Refugees are nameless in the press – but we also come up with language which will diminish their humanity and highlight their difference. ‘Gas-lighting’ is one of the words of the moment. The children seldom get a mention at all.

If a victim does get to talk to someone in authority, it can still feel like talking from “down there” to “up there”. The king may engage in some sort of discussion but it is from the safety of the walls. The King is fasting but that is a chosen abstinence from food, not the situation the women are in. He will say, of course that he has been out and listened, but his reaction is not to help the women but to engage in violence against Elisha. The conversation is cut short and the women have no further chance. It should also be noted that Elisha and the elders are sitting in their house – are they as hungry as the women? are they concerned for the needier citizens? These questions are more pointed when we know that Elisha has a speciality in providing food when it is needed, and he has just arranged for a large feast for the Aramean soldiers. He has also raised the dead. Why can he not provide food for these women? It is I think fair to ask the question “Where was he?”

Within the narrative the two women are treated peremptorily by the king, and the prophet seems to be absent from the place of need. I suspect this is the experience of many survivors and victims.

But we should also look at ways in which the narrator potentially is part of the silencing, and how commentators have found other issues to focus on, and how easily we are led by narrators and commentators. The needs and suffering of these two women and the children are passed by, covered over.

Some commentators remind us that Deuteronomy 28 spells out what will happen to God’s people if they are disobedient. Among other things, judgement will include being besieged and that people will be reduced to eating their own children (28: 47-57). In 2 Kings 6 it is Samaria, but later the people of Jerusalem will be reduced to this when besieged by the Babylonians (see Lamentations). Commentators reflect on the judgement of God and the sinfulness of God’s people rather than the actual needs of these women.

Other commentators look instead at the longer story of God’s triumphing over the Arameans, the ways in which the people of Samaria are protected and saved because of and through Elisha. The king may despair, the king may have given up on leadership but Elisha will still point people to God’s answer. The bad Arameans are again sent packing! But if we are to applaud Elisha (and God) then surely we can also ask why they each / both allowed things to get as bad as they did. If Elisha / God had lifted the siege just a couple of days earlier the baby would have survived. We might be impressed by the quiet faith of Elisha who trusts that God will bring an outcome, but that does not mean we cannot ask why he was not pastorally more engaged.

A third focus of commentators is on the relationship and antagonism between King and prophet, and the narrator seems to think this important. For him the women are very minor characters as his focus is on king and prophet.

All three foci are alive and present in today’s world. Some find theological arguments / rationale to “explain” what has happened, a judgement of God; others want a more positive narrative in which there is victory, success, even if that means skirting round some inconvenient verses and situations. Many spend their energy and put their focus on the power battles between leaders, whether unions and the minister, bishop and government, or whatever. We can generate righteous indignation in our comments and contributions; of course the bigger issues are important, but it is noteworthy how the needs of the neediest get left out especially by those seeking to justify tougher measures, and those most zealous to prove a point. We can all get more energised by these debates than by the uncomfortable challenge that the two women put before us. The narrator allows these two needy victims to be written out, in favour of the successes of Elisha and the ongoing challenges of monarchy. They are not characters or people he wishes to follow up.

Some contrast this story with the “wisdom” of Solomon in 1 Kings 3 where Solomon adjudicates between two mothers and a surviving baby. Is the king in 2 Kings 6 failing in his kingship by being unable to make a judgement, or is the situation such that no king could make a judgement? The connection with 1 Kings 3 seems strong and it could be argued the two women in 1 kings 3 also are written out of the narrative once Solomon has shown his “wisdom”. In both cases then, the desperate needs of the women are ignored by the dominant narrative, just as the needs of the victims are so often written out of the dominant texts; I suspect this is not always deliberate, simply customary, we are taught to prioritise the argument and its justification.

One reason may be that the issues that the two women present, are so terrible and ones for which there is no easy solution. Like Job’s friends, solidarity in grieving is one response, but it takes time and leaders of all kinds are busy – they might do a quick walk on the walls to show they are in the real world, but they won’t stop for seven days in silent support; seven minutes would be uncomfortably long; and if a conversation is organised or even happens without planning, the leader is likely to use their power to cut it short; and like in this narrative the victim may struggle to get a second encounter though the King will proclaim that he has met the victims in authentic engagement.

Whether or not the narrator means us to reflect on Elisha sitting in his house with the elders, this brief narrative raises the uncomfortable question of the absence from the situation of this church leader; maybe he was deep in prayer, maybe waiting on God, but whatever, Elisha did not make time to find, listen to, or help these women.

Maybe the better way to read this difficult passage of the encounter of the King with the two women, is to freeze-frame at the point where the women share their story; don’t let the king rush off with his agenda; question the absence of the prophet; and stop the narrator from pushing on until we have decided what we could and should do in our world. Hear and hold fast to the testimony of the victims. Only then let the narrative resume.

Sadly no one heard these women – not the King, despite being present; not the prophet, who was not there; nor even the narrator who had a different story to tell; and readers have been so quick to condemn. Sadly these two women are not alone in being unheard and un-noticed.

In Part 1 I commented that this collection of liturgical resources shows a lack of sensitivity to issues common among survivors, despite the repeated claims that the work was ‘done together with survivors’. In the week since its publication, the grounds for this claim have become doubtful. I emailed the Bishop of Exeter, who wrote the introduction, last week to enquire which of the materials had been written or chosen by survivors. So far I have had no reply. It transpires that neither MACSAS (Minister and Clergy Sexual Abuse Survivors) nor the survivors on the NST (National Safeguarding Team) were consulted at any point. Worst of all, one survivor who is quoted was not asked for permission to use his material.

We have yet to discover the truth of how Towards a Safer Church was put together, but the Liturgical Commission has laid itself open to the charge of wanting to appear as if it is listening to survivors, without doing the work. Sadly this lack of honesty and reluctance to listen and understand is the common and consistent experience of so many of us. They have not yet learned that it won’t do. This collection of resources is not what we would have wanted to see, and does not reflect the insights we could have brought to the project if we had been asked.

In Part 1 of this blog I discussed ‘triggers’, the use of words, images, or concepts that remind survivors of the physical, emotional, or sexual abuse they have suffered. It will be obvious to anyone studying the resources in this collection that quite a lot of it contains triggers. The suggested hymn ‘O Lord, you search me and you know me’ is one example:
when [I] lie down, you are before me…
with everlasting love you besiege me…
there is nowhere on earth I can escape you…
Can you imagine how that sounds to someone who has been unable to escape the attentions of an abuser? It’s terrifying.

Another difficulty with the collection is what nowadays is aptly termed ‘othering.’ This is the attitude, ‘These people, who have been abused, are exceptions. They are not one of us.’ As a cathedral dean once said to me re. survivors: ‘People like that don’t come here.’ He was wrong – not only was he talking to a survivor, but it later transpired that several of the choirboys had been sexually abused by the previous dean. Child abuse of all kinds is common enough that it’s never safe to assume there are no survivors present in any gathering. When we add to that those who have been assaulted or abused as adults, it’s wise to presume that there will be survivors in attendance. They are not ‘other’, they are part of us.

‘Towards a Safer Church’ features two prayers headed ‘For survivors’ who are referred to throughout as ‘they’. Moreover, the prayers characterise survivors as experiencing ‘pain and vulnerability’; ‘darkness and loneliness’; ‘despair’; being out of touch with their ‘true selves’; and a lack of confidence. This very negative view is unlikely to encourage people to be open about their history. Our positive qualities – resilience, toughness, and (often) empathy with the powerless – should be named and given thanks for. Although the intention to pray for survivors is a good one, better prayers could be found or written. Janet Morley, Nicola Slee, John Bell, and New Zealand priest Erice Fairbrother are among those who have already written good liturgical material, and might write more if we asked them.

Here I want to ask a question which used to haunt me: has the Church nothing to offer victims apart from the forgiveness of their sins? Of course forgiveness is important – but what can we offer those who have suffered because of someone else’s grievous sin and crime? What I looked for here, and found mostly lacking, was a concern for justice. The Bible is full of God’s concern that justice be done on the earth, and justice characterises the Kingdom of God. We can confidently pray, then, that victims of abuse will find justice.

Finally, the constant emphasis on guilt in much of our liturgy is not helpful for many, perhaps, but especially for those who have suffered the false guilt and shame of abuse. Once the Confession has been said and absolution pronounced, why keep mentioning our guilt and unworthiness? Christ has dealt with that. Years ago, in an effort to maintain a more positive note, I wrote the ‘Prayer of Joyful Access’:

Jesus, brother, you sat down at table with women who sold their bodies, men who sold their souls, and those whose lives were traded by strangers. You ate with them, and when you broke the bread wine and laughter flowed As we feast with you now, may your bread strengthen us, your wine warm us, and your love cheer us for the days to come. Amen. (in Praying for the Dawn, Wild Goose Publications, 2000)

It speaks of the welcome Christ offers to sinners and victims alike, and the hope we have for the future. There is a wealth of good material we can and should be using. I will close with a few lines from one canticle, ‘As One who Travels’: But you have blessed me with emptiness, O God; you have spared me to remain unsatisfied. And now I yearn for justice; like an infant that cries for the breast, and cannot be pacified, I hunger and thirst for oppression to be removed, and to see the right prevail.
So while I live I will seek your wisdom, O God; while I have strength to search, I will follow her ways. For her words are like rivers in the desert; she is like rain on parched ground, like a fountain whose waters fail not. Then shall my soul spring up like grass, And my heart recover her greenness; and from the deepest places of my soul Shall flow streams of living water. (from Women Included, SPCK 1991. Unattributed)

‘Lord, hear our prayer
and let our cry
come to you.
Lord, I was too small to pray
Why did my cry
not come to you?’
from ‘Meditation on the Collect for Purity’ by Erice Fairbrother

It’s a pity the compilers of ‘Towards a Safer Church’ hadn’t read the above before putting together this collection of resources. If they had, they might have avoided a number of elementary errors. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

‘Towards a Safer Church’ is a collection of resources around the subject of safeguarding. It was released on 31 May and can be found on the Church of England’s website. There are repeated claims that the material has been put together with the help of survivors. However, I haven’t been able to find any evidence that this is true – and the resources don’t reflect the point of view of many who have suffered abuse.

The material is intended for use in several settings under the broad heading of safeguarding: safeguarding training; commissioning safeguarding reps; services of repentance for past failures; people falsely accused of abuse; and survivors of abuse. However, apart from a few prayers under different headings there is little guidance as to which of the resources is suitable for these very different circumstances. Moreover almost all of the material has been taken without adaptation from existing Church of England liturgies. There is therefore a very high likelihood that when intending to minister to survivors, the material used may be inappropriate. This would do more harm than good.
It’s worth looking at this more closely. It shouldn’t need saying but (and here’s a surprise!) survivors are not all the same. We were abused at different ages, in different settings and circumstances, by different people. These factors can make a big difference to what makes us feel comfortable or uncomfortable; what heals and what causes further pain. Most of us have ‘triggers’: words, phrases, situations which suddenly transport us back to the bad times, the situations where we were abused. Someone who was abused by a faith leader whose name was ‘Lamb’, for instance; might react strongly to the Agnus Dei or a picture of the Good Shepherd. Another who was taken as a child into a church to be ‘quiet before God’ and then abused might have flashbacks if silence in God’s presence is suggested. And a third survivor who was abused or groomed in the course of confession may have a strong aversion to confessing his/her sins. Those abused by family members may find themselves unable to relate to God as father, mother, brother and so on.

I would expect any selection of liturgical resources for survivors to include a warning that words or phrases used may trigger such a reaction. Likewise, anyone leading a service for survivors would be wise to find out, if possible, what the triggers for those likely to attend may be. They might also say at the start of the service that it’s all right to be emotional or
afraid, or to want to leave, and to make available people to support anyone who is distressed.

‘Towards a Safer Church’ contains no such advice. Worse, it displays absolutely no awareness of triggers. For although a few of our triggers may be as different as the circumstances of our abuse, there are some things common to us all. Abuse necessarily involves an imbalance of power; and sexual abuse often masquerades as love and affection. Therefore, any ministry to or with survivors should be very cautious of how it uses language describing God’s power and love – especially in a context where abuse is specifically remembered. There is a danger of triggering flashbacks and the return of painful emotions such as terror. anxiety, shame and false guilt. There is also the nagging question – why, if God is so powerful, did he not prevent the abuse?

I’ll quote here two more short snippets from the Meditation on the Collect for Purity:
ALMIGHTY GOD
…He was almighty
He held the power
over me – he was
so much bigger
you see.
You may have
created but
he destroyed
my world. …
THROUGH OUR SAVIOUR JESUS CHRIST
Who are you that you ask me to call you Saviour?
When I really needed saving
from the sins of a sexual abuser
when I was locked up in silence
when I was isolated and surrounded by confusion
where were you, Saviour of the world?…

Some readers will be uncomfortable with these questions, and with this treatment of a familiar part of our liturgy. If that is you, you might ask yourself: what is it like to have to live with these questions hour by hour – and within a Church which seems oblivious to the possibility they might be asked?

One of the recommended liturgies includes the Collect for Purity, under the title ‘Prayer of Preparation’. Bishop Libby Lane, in her blog on the website, cites it as a prayer a survivor friend finds helpful. This illustrates the point that the different circumstances of abuse will produce different triggers. A person who was abused as a teenager and in a secular setting will react differently to one abused as a young child and in a Christian setting. Two survivors with similar histories may not have the same triggers; and a survivor who is working through the abuse will respond differently at different times. But, at some point the questions raised by Erice Fairbrother’s ‘Meditation’ must be faced.

What is needed, therefore, is liturgical material which acknowledges painful emotions and hard questions. Above all. It must show sensitivity to what the various issues may be, and
a willingness to be alongside and learn from survivors. I find those qualities completely lacking in ‘Towards a Safer Church’.

Church shunning or ostracism is a topic that has appeared several times on this blog and an article I wrote three years ago http://survivingchurch.org/2014/09/15/ostracism-some-reflections/ still gets googled by individuals around the world who have experienced this. I include a guest article from Eric Bonetti in the States giving his perspective on the topic. A further Australian example will be forthcoming. It is important to understand the power of this aspect of church abuse.

Shunning, or the deliberate exclusion of a person or persons from a church by a member of the clergy, is both devastating and widespread. Unfortunately, those who engage in this despicable practice rarely recognise that it hurts them, and the larger church, in a powerful and lasting way.

Some time ago, I wrote a piece for another prominent faith-oriented blog describing my experience with shunning, doing so without attribution but my editor’s full knowledge of my identity. My hope was that this would allow for discussion of the larger issue, versus the facts of my particular case.

The response was overwhelming. Literally dozens of individuals commented, sharing their own experiences of being excluded from church, typically for petty issues, like disagreeing with the Rector in a vestry meeting, or for having varying views about a minor secondary doctrinal matter.

Means of shunning by clergy often were cunning, ranging from suddenly being removed from church mailings, to not learning of upcoming meetings, to instructing church staff to be uncooperative in ways large and small. In some cases, clergy came right out and informed persons that they were unwelcome.

An ancillary issue, often alluded to but rarely addressed in full, was the tremendous pain that those who are shunned experienced. Deprived of the joy and psychological support of friends, many commenters described resulting major depression, PTSD, and in many cases, leaving the Christian faith altogether.

Tellingly, the blog for which I wrote the article is visited primarily by active church members. Thus, one might conclude that a larger number of persons never saw my article, because they no longer have any connection to church.

Theologically, of course, shunning flies in the very face of the whole notion of church. If we indeed believe that the church is the body of Christ, then it follows that causing suffering to any part of the church causes suffering for all.

And so it is with my experience with shunning. While it serves no useful purpose in this post to identify the priest and church involved, recent documents show that the parish indeed has paid a heavy price for my rector’s campaign of shunning, having lost almost 1/3 of its pledging units since my situation erupted two years ago. Additionally, there have been major declines in attendance at divine worship.

That stands to reason. In a day and age where bullying is illegal in American schools, and often legally actionable in other settings, few are likely to conclude that a church where shunning is acceptable is a safe, inclusive place, or somewhere to grow in faith.

At the same time, churchgoers are notoriously adverse to conflict, and will often quietly slip away to more tranquil environs when they encounter a church in which shunning, or bullying in any other form, is acceptable. In such cases, even two or three bullies can cause tremendous damage, both near- and long-term, and real leaders may be few in number or non-existent.

My experience with shunning also suggests that bystanders often rush to judgement, which in turn leads to widening circles of tension and conflict within the church. “He must have done something to deserve it,” people speculate, in my case sometimes even suggesting that sexual or financial misconduct must have occurred. So, while some bystanders are quick to defriend the victim of shunning on Facebook and other social media, those who remain friends are thrust into the unenviable position of having to decide whether, for example, the person shunned should be invited to holiday parties and other social events. Or as one long-time friend said to me, “Sorry you weren’t invited. It just would have been awkward.”

Given the disparate perceived power between clergy and laity, in my experience I also noted many otherwise honourable people who, without question, honoured my priest’s instructions to shun me and my family. This unwillingness to question authority indeed is troubling, for it is the same blind trust that all too often allows clergy to engage in sexual abuse without any accountability.

Some go even further. For example, one young member of my church, posting to social media under a pseudonym that was sexually explicit, urged me to “go kill yourself.”Still others may attempt to discredit the victim of shunning by lying and claiming that the victim harassed the perpetrator, or otherwise engaged in behaviour warranting shunning. Yet shunning is never warranted as response, even if such allegations were true. And in my parish, the continuing presence of laypersons who have engaged in criminal acts or other misconduct illustrates the arbitrary and capricious nature of shunning.

Of course, the notion that this sort of behaviour is appropriate derives from seeing the example of an clergy member who abuses his or her power by engaging in shunning. If a priest can engage in behaviour that has rightly been described on this blog as “psychological murder,” why not invite the victim of shunning to murder himself? The one logically follows from the other.

Ironically, while shunning is an abuse of power perpetrated by clergy who are seen as occupying the more powerful position in the church, if called onto the carpet clergy who shun will attempt to treat the person shunned as a peer. Specifically, in my case, I started a “name and shame,” blog to let as many people as possible know that my church is not a safe place. Yet, when we later met to discuss the matter, my priest angrily denounced my blog as defamatory, despite the fact that it is not. Indeed, at one point he objected loudly to a meme I had developed that said, “Jesus. Welcomes Outcasts,” along with an image of Jesus. Alongside was my priest’s name and image, with the subtitle, “Creates Outcasts.” Yet what better way is there to illustrate that shunning is the antithesis of the Christian faith? And having engaged in shunning, why would he object to anyone illustrating this dichotomy in clear terms such as this?

My further observation in this space is that clergy always are responsible for maintaining appropriate boundaries with those entrusted to their care. Thus, when those boundaries are violated, the victim is under no obligation to be nice. Victims of abuse must do what they need to do to recover, and there is no shame in doing so. In other words, it is never the disclosure of clergy misconduct that causes harm. It is the misconduct that causes harm. And no one argued that I should refrain from commenting when a drunk driver killed several members of my family. So why should my priest be any different?

Once a member of the clergy or other person in a position of power engages in shunning – truly a barbaric practice – one of the few things victims can do is to tell their story far and wide. Doing so can be quite painful, as I know, and one will lose friends for doing so. But the hard reality is that the clergyperson’s actions will already have cost the victim many of his or her friends, and by sharing their story, victims can take back control. This is in contrast to many who are shunned, who often slip into deep depression when they conclude they are powerless to stop the abuse.

Ironically enough, in telling their stories, victims of shunning may discover that another group deeply hurt by clergy who shun are his or her family members and other close associates. Because clergy who engage in shunning often are serial bullies who are adept at making themselves seem kind and caring, family members and professional acquaintances alike may be shocked and appalled by public criticism of the clergyperson, feeling that the victims are overreacting, “unbalanced,” or should, “move on.” In that vein, one of the things I deeply regret is the pain that my actions, taken in resistance to my priest’s shunning, caused for his family members. While I was not prepared to stop telling my story until such time as my priest lifted his edict of shunning, knowing that I was causing distress to others was troubling indeed.

Of course, for the victim, the results of shunning are often lasting. While my priest eventually complained that we were discussing matters that had occurred two years earlier, the reality is that some members of my family affected by his shunning will never fully recover from their distress. Shunning is a traumatic experience that causes suffering for years to come, and in many ways can never be undone.

Similarly, experts note that shunning and other forms of clergy misconduct my affect churches for many years to come. In her excellent book, “Restoring Trust. Wholeness After Betrayal”, Episcopal author and Canon to the Ordinary for the Diocese of Connecticut Robin Hammeal-Urban shares her experience that parishes sometimes act in unhealthy ways 25 years after clergy misconduct if there is not a deliberate effort to disclose the misconduct and work towards healing and health. Yet all too often, church judicatories are loathe to address the elephant in the living room when clergy have engaged in shunning, labelling the matter a “personality conflict,” or as something best resolved within the parish.

If the church is to live into its mission as a safe and welcoming home for all persons, we need to move to an understanding that shunning, or bullying in any other form, is utterly unacceptable.

Eric Bonetti Eric is a member of The Episcopal Church and lives just outside Washington D.C.

The background to this powerful letter to the House of Bishops from ‘Joe’ is as follows. Joe was sexually abused by a senior churchman and emotionally abused by another nearly 40 years ago. His experience of trying to bring these episodes to the attention of bishops in the Church of England was constantly frustrated and he was met with massive obstacles. Eventually a report was commissioned into Joe’s case by the Diocese of London, and the Elliott Review was duly produced in March this year. A meeting of the House of Bishops last month (May 23-24 2016) was addressed by Bishop Sarah Mullally, Bishop of Crediton. She had been entrusted with the task of implementing the Review and making sure that all the Bishops understood its implications for future practice. The House, according to reports, has agreed to a number of sweeping changes in the implementation of safeguarding practice by every diocese. Two particular issues came out of Bishop Mullally’s presentation. (See the blog post written on the 5th June) The first was that safeguarding procedures must be made standard right across the church. There can be no room for a local bishop to deviate from following best safeguarding practice. The second principle was to ensure that pastoral care for survivors must take priority over the demands of the church’s own insurance company. This company, Ecclesiastical Insurance (EIG), seems to encourage bishops and other church officials to clam up when faced with crucial questions in historic abuse cases.

Joe’s letter must be read against the background of knowing that at least some of his expectations have been met. Initially Joe had been told the Bishops were planning to delay changes, hence this passionate letter. We await to see whether the Church of England can indeed move to make the changes demanded by the Elliot report. Quite apart from what happens in the future we have in this letter a powerful emotional plea which gives us a strong sense of the frustration and powerlessness of the survivor when facing a brick wall of official intransigence over many years. Joe’s persistence has, we would claim, significantly cracked open the logjam of colluding official power structures that today exist in the Church of England. The Goddard report, when it finally appears in five years time, may well deliver another blow to a system of power and patronage which so often protects the powerful against the weak.

We are very grateful to Joe for letting survivingchurch publish this letter. It is of historic interest as well as being a testimony of the strength of a survivor when facing almost impossible odds. The partial victory of David over a Goliath of official inertia, indifference and protection of privilege is to be celebrated and applauded.

Letter to Church of England Bishops

I call on the House of Bishops to repent at your meeting in York at the end of this week. Others in the survivor community are saying the same. Repentance implies action and not just words – it is about turning around 180 degrees and starting again. The crisis this senior layer has brought upon itself has finally woken the church up to need for real change. If the bishops hope to delay changes as we are told you might, the situation will be acutely embarrassing. It is a worrying indication of a culture in denial and paralysis that no bishop has commented on the Elliott Report since it came out in mid March -100% silence. Perhaps your strategists have given instruction to ignore it and ride the storm out. I think their advice present in much of your hidden structure of response to survivors has been spectacularly bad. It has led you away from the values of your own gospel and narrative.

I am urging Bishop Paul Butler, Bishop Tim Thornton and Archbishop Justin Welby to lead a call for repentance across the whole House of Bishops. All these bishops have involvement in my case. Denial of disclosures to senior figures (“no recollection”) and blanking of crucial questions by the bishop I reported to were main features of the church’s response in the findings of that report. Along with reckless compliance to the demands of Ecclesiastical, your own insurer. And silence from Lambeth Palace to more than a dozen cries for help. Similar experiences of many other survivors from what MACSAS* tell me – indicate many other bishops know the same powerful criticisms apply to them. This cuts across the board.

The House of Bishops needs to show clearly that you are finally able beyond the eleventh hour to work rapidly for profound change in your culture and structure – arising from honest acceptance of the mess you have made. Survivors will know the weight is lifted when we see the church willing to buckle beneath the weight of the questions and all the impact – that we carry on the church’s behalf. When we see the church being honest and transparent in its answers to questions – then we’ll know the weight is shifting to where it belongs. The senior layer needs to dig its way out of the hole you have dug yourselves into. Cover-ups, denials, obscuring of issues, intentional inertia, fog, smoke and mirrors, blanking of questions, unchallenged power of bishops, legal games, incestuous dependence on your own insurer to limit liability, unethical closing down of cases and withdrawal of support on the instructions of EIG, bewilderingly adversarial settlements – all of which I and many others have experienced – all this must come to an end in real repentance. So that survivors, those of us currently on the way through a process and many others yet to come forward, are responded to safely and sanely. You can no longer operate a mirage in which Responding Well can be torn in two to suit the interests of your own insurer – especially when the aims and actions of EIG run so malevolently counter to your own stated guidelines. This mirage is rotten, can only do further harm, and must now stop. You need to disentangle your response to this problem from your own insurer – it has led you into deep complicity and does enormous damage to both survivors and yourselves.

But you know what to do. You have been told many times through regular visits of survivors to Lambeth Palace and repeated challenges to your Head of Safeguarding. Challenges to so many of you in fact – from survivors and others, both in person and through growing number of articles in the press. You cannot wait for more waves of crisis to hit you before finally doing the right thing. If you continue to rely on the tenacity of survivors to do all the painful work of trying to transform your structure – the Goddard Inquiry will be over and the church you lead will look powerfully diminished. Senior leaders and bishops need to show tenacity yourselves and act quickly now to transform the situation for everyone. This starts with repentance and real action arising from a commitment to change. If you can make this collective decision at this critical House of Bishops assembly – you are likely to move forward through the Goddard Inquiry and everything yet to emerge with greater grace and much less pain. And better prospect of healing for everyone, including yourselves. The church can hold its head high knowing it is doing the right thing. If you make the wrong decisions – well, it seems obvious to survivors that there is no grass left to kick changes into. The crisis will be acute and can only deepen. The Elliott Report into my case could be repeated across so many survivor experiences – as similar issues have appeared again and again elsewhere. I don’t how more embarrassing you need a Report to be .. so it astonishes me and other survivors I am in contact with – to hear that the House of Bishops might try and delay changes. I urge you not to. I urge you to repent.

‘Joe’ of the Elliott Report

*MACSAS is an acronym for the Ministers and Clergy Sexual Abuse Survivors

Kathryn has written a response to my piece of yesterday. I am posting it as a guest post as it raises several issues alongside my concerns. Both of us agree, I think, on the need for maturity and growth in marriage. I would maintain that this is made far harder after someone pushes you towards a partner.
Yes, it is true that there were many “arranged” marriages in the Peniel’s on both sides of the Atlantic, though I suspect it was more common in the Brentwood church. I think though, that while there were certainly unhappy marriages and even (gasp!) a few divorces, many of these unions were and are happy ones. One reason for this is, despite the many times abusive atmosphere within this church, there were also many, many people who sincerely and honestly wanted God and to live for Him as best they could. Because of that, most of us took our vows very seriously. One thing we were all taught is that love is not a feeling, it is a decision. Because of that teaching, and I believe there is truth in that idea, many of us made the decision to love our life partners and to seek God for His help in making our marriages work. I did not have an arranged marriage, (I can’t count the times I was told no man would ever want me and they would never be able to find anyone willing to marry me!) but my husband and I did become engaged 2 weeks after we met and were married not long after. That was 25 years ago and while there have been rough times, I would say our marriage is happy with no more or less troubles than the average couple. I do know several couples that were arranged and I know of only 1 union that ended in divorce and, as the others are friends of mine, I think I can say those marriages are not any happier or unhappier than the average couple. I do have a theory about why this may be so in some cases, though it would hardly apply to every case. There is a bonding that occurs when you go through a trauma with someone. I think, in some instances, the shared traumatic experience of the abuse and mistreatment of Peniel actually strengthened the bond between people. I know that was not always the case, especially when one wanted to leave and the other did not, but I know that has been true in many cases. You reach a place where all you have is each other and no one else. As much as I think they would sometimes to have liked to, the ministry at Peniel could not actually invade the most intimate places of a marriage relationship, it could certainly influence it. I know of marriages that the ministry were successful in destroying, some of them close friends, and that is heartbreaking, but there is something about the bond created in marriage that is strong enough to withstand a lot of attack. Like in many unhappy unions, sometimes it is simply because of the wounds brought into the marriage by one or both that make it unhappy. Of course, most of those wounds can be laid at the feet of the ministry at Peniel.

I was actually in a relationship when I was in Bible College there. He was a wonderful young man with a very bright future ahead of him and we are still friends, but we were told we were not allowed to date because he was not in a place to marry. So we were separated and the ministry ended up fostering such abuse on him that he ended up leaving the church. His is a story that I hope the commission hears. Looking back, we should not have married as we were both carrying baggage from our pasts that would have destroyed our relationship. If we had both remained there we may have eventually married and I would not know the love of my life or have my 5 wonderful boys.

The bigger problem, in my opinion, with all of this relationship control is that young people never learn how to properly be in a mature relationship. I am not encouraging premarital sex but we were never allowed to learn how to interact with members of the opposite sex because there was no casual-type dating. You sort of knew someone, then you decided if you would be interested in marrying them and, if so, you dated for a month or two and then you got married. I did not have many romantic relationships prior to meeting my husband, but I can say that I learned something from each one of them about what it means and how it works. Even with that, I cannot say that I was prepared for marriage, most of us in Peniel weren’t. That is another factor in unhappy marriages.

I guess to sum it all up, Peniel did arrange some marriages, some happy, some not so much. But the cause of most of the unhappiness was not the fact that the unions were arranged so much as no one was allowed to mature relationally in order to become ready for such a commitment. We were all so damaged and wounded with no idea what it meant to be in that type of relationship. It was one of the ways we were all kept controlled, we were not allowed to mature in many ways. We were so dependent on the ministry that many of us didn’t really become adults until we were out from under the church, regardless of our chronological age.

I can’t speak for everyone, these are only my thoughts on my experiences and what I witnessed. It is just one more area Trinity/Peniel managed to screw up. I am thankful that I have been blessed with a wonderful husband whom I love very much and who returns that love. We went through Peniel together and we came out together and it is part of our history. I, for one, am truly glad it is history!

On each page of this blog – half way down on the right – is a little form you can complete. (just like the picture here)

When you complete it you will get an email to the address you have entered.  In this email there will be a link you must click, this confirms that you really want to subscribe.

Once subscribed in this way you will get an email every day on which a new subject was just started.   You wont get any more than one email per subject – and you wont get emails of the comments that people enter.

Here’s hoping that helps!

Love.  Dick Davies.

A personal story from IHOP

If you google “leaving IHOP” you will find a “rich” (or rather very sad) vein of writings about a current example of abusive church.

Here is a link to just one of these posts:

Babel, Pentecost, and the House of Prayer: My Time at IHOP-KC

In this particular article Gary Wallin details his time at the International House of Prayer.

Much of the material on this blog  is illustrated all too vividly in this contemporary example of an abuse of spiritual leadership.