Choosing which part of the lengthy recently published PCR2 report to comment on was not easy.  I did, however, find myself drawn to the section of the report that discusses the culture in the Church of England and the way that this culture can worsen safeguarding failures. This section listed, under nine headings, various aspects of church life that are thought often to be impeding good safeguarding practice. These nine headings help us to appreciate the current problems faced by the CofE as it tries to undo the legacy of the past.  In my judgement there is one named aspect of the CofE’s culture that stands out.  This particular heading in many ways sums up and largely encapsulates all the other eight themes that are listed.  The word is protectionism.  In my view, attempts by the CofE to preserve reputation, status and privilege have led to many, if not all, of the problems that the CofE is now facing as it seeks to drag itself out of the mire of the past safeguarding catastrophes that the PCR2 report is describing.

The current culture of the CofE, as described by PCR2, seems to be one that seeks to promote, above all, good public relations and also to preserve a wholesome reputation in the eyes of the world and of its members. Avoiding the appearance of scandal and side-stepping any suggestion of corruption within its ranks seems to be – understandably – a major preoccupation.  Church leaders have found it difficult to face squarely the catalogue of abuses and safeguarding shame that has been a feature of the past decade or two.  From leaders downwards, there has thus been a notable reluctance to listen carefully to survivors and what they have to say.  The report names ‘disbelief’ and ‘blaming the victim’ as two of the nine aspects of a negative church culture.  These have made it hard for the church to move forward to deal with the toxic legacy in its past.  The report counts almost 400 cases of abuse discovered in the files.  These are new in the sense that they are not listed, according to church records, as having reached some kind of resolution. In the overall atmosphere of reputation protection, how many more other cases brought to the attention of leaders disappeared into the shredding machine or on the bonfire in someone’s garden?  The report also indicates the existence of bullying within the hierarchical structures of the church.  How many cases are there of bullying or coercion of victims into silence?  We don’t know the answer to this question, but I would not be surprised if other new cases appear – the ones that were shredded or bullied out of sight and now only live within the memories of the suffering and still traumatised survivors.

The very first heading, in describing the culture of the church, is the word deference. This is a word we have discussed on the blog more than once. It often creeps into discussions about power in the church. Deference to those who are important in a hierarchical system is part of what keeps its structure intact. For that reason, it is likely encouraged by those with power in an organisation. Institutions, like any product of human invention, have built-in survival mechanisms.  An institution comes into being, not just to exist but to maintain and extend its influence and power.  Those who are at the top of the pinnacle of power in an institution will have a natural interest in making sure that lines of obedience and deference are preserved unchallenged. There will also be personal psychological reasons at work among organisational leaders.  Being considered important and receiving the deference of those lower in rank will be a strong boost to the self-esteem of many. Deference can be expressed in a variety of ways as, for example in the correct use of titles. I remember an ordinary parish priest who received the title of honorary Canon from his local cathedral. From what I could tell, his main achievement had been to have stayed a very long time in his parish. Whatever his achievements, from the day of the announcement, he insisted on being addressed as Canon by all his parishioners. I detected in this demand for deference, a self-aggrandisement which was far from being healthy.  Unfortunately, the Church does sometimes operate in a way that encourages this appetite for deference among those who crave importance and status.  In this environment the free and honest exchange of information may be inhibited. People may treat the one who is the object of deference as having power and no one finds it easy to speak truth to power. The flatterer, the smooth speaker may hope that he/she may somehow be rewarded for never being the bearer of bad or challenging news. The individual in authority will naturally prefer to hear information that does not cause discomfort or pain.

The safeguarding scandals of the last 20 years have caused a great deal of discomfort and pain to those in positions of authority in the CofE. Indeed, it might be claimed that this pain is so great that there may be some among our bishops who regret ever having taken up the responsibility of episcopal office. Learning about and being confronted with events from the past connected with abuse must be harrowing for those who hear these stories. It is likely that those in authority will want to do all that is possible to shutdown painful information of this kind. PCR2, in the section on culture, identifies several ways the church sometimes behaves in order to deny and avoid this type of pain. Those who do have official safeguarding responsibilities, and this is true of all the current leaders of our churches, must have a hard and difficult task looking objectively at what is presented to them. The PCR’s list of 9 cultural factors shows how the Church, and especially its leaders, attempt to push away the pain of confrontation with the suffering of others. The following are mentioned: disbelief, inertia, inaction and blaming the victim. All of these are classic avoidance techniques. We can say as a summary that, when anyone hears painful information, there is often an attempt, an instinctive attempt, to sidestep the full emotional toll that comes from listening to that other person’s pain. That is something that all of us can understand at a human level.

The pain that is the consequence of a safeguarding disaster operates at many levels.  There is the pain of the original abuse.  In many cases the individual concerned has not even begun to deal with, let alone heal, the resulting trauma. That pain needs resolution and requires the resources of money, time and compassion. The second level of pain is felt by those who hear about the pain and distress of the victim. Many of us find it just too hard to sit with the wounded person on the road. We hurry by, hoping that no one will notice that we failed to offer human compassion to the one in distress. The third level is the pain experienced within the institution itself. It is the pain of unresolved evil, damaged reputation and a total lack of will to set in place the strategies needed to deal with it.  Meanwhile the Christian Church teaches that there is a way through the most appalling pain and suffering as well as the evils of deliberate cruelty by one person towards another. The way that does not resolve such horrors is the way that the Church so often chooses.  It continues down the path of denial, deflection and sometimes outright dishonesty.

I encourage my readers to look at the section on culture in the PCR report. https://www.churchofengland.org/sites/default/files/2022-10/Past%20Cases%20Review%202%20-%20National%20Report.pdf  Each one of the nine identified themes are areas of failure in our Church today.   Each one needs facing and dealing with over the next 20 or 30 years. Protecting the Church and her leaders may seem on the surface to be a good and honourable thing to do. Respecting and always supporting the men and women who lead us in the Church of England may help to preserve institutional stability.  On the other hand, this automatic protection of leading individuals and the institutions they preside over, can be, in reality, deeply harmful. When people on the outside of our Church see a panicky self-serving response, one that puts the task of protecting reputation as being the most important thing, they quickly lose respect for it. The Church of England is in danger, not because people do not hear the words it utters, but simply because they fail to see integrity in its leaders and the way the same leaders are refusing to follow the costly task of facing and dealing properly with the horrors of the past.

By

Stephen H.

For 3 years I have been subject to the painful experience of being bullied with attempts to drive me away from my parish church.  Here I have served for 27 years, 6 of them as Churchwarden. My role within the church and the PCC has been deliberately eroded by a bullying culture in the PCC.  This was led by an interim minister and his actions infringed my human rights. As a result of this treatment, I took out a CDM against the interim minister. The local bishop who reviewed the complaint, described some of his actions as shocking. It had also prompted the comment ‘painful reading’ from the President of Tribunals.  In spite of this, my complaint did not meet the requirements of the Measure and the minister was moved and promoted! Thus, though breaking the priest’s code of conduct several times, the minister was rewarded.  Meanwhile the bishop agreed in a letter that the situation in the parish needed to be addressed and she offered mediation.  This I agreed to. The situation came to a head 2 weeks ago when I attended a meeting at the bishop’s home.

I met the local retired Archdeacon outside the bishop’s home before going in to meet her.  This former archdeacon had acted as my support person throughout the CDM process which I had brought against the interim minister. He asked me why I thought the diocese safeguarding adviser (DSA) was included in the meeting. I told him I hoped it was because they were at last recognising the issue of spiritual abuse in this case. Three months had elapsed since the first meeting, and I understood this was to be a follow up. The support archdeacon had written to the bishop on my behalf on the 16^th August requesting that she move forward on her offer of mediation because the bullying and discrimination was continuing.

We went into the meeting, but God was not in the room. Instead of an opening prayer, the bishop started to attack me in a premeditated way. She opened by saying that her PA had informed me, by email, that the mediation was not proceeding.  Neither I nor my archdeacon supporter had received this email so the change of mood in the meeting was unexpected.  The bishop’s diatribe against me was connected to a complaint I had made to the Charity Commission about failures of administration over the church building.  Whistleblowing is a legal activity and protected under the 1998 Public Disclosure Act. I could not convey this at the time because the attack was too relentless as well as unexpected. I was also accused by the bishop of wanting to damage the church when in fact I had been trying to make the church ‘fit for mission’, addressing such issues as disability access.  This is the slogan for the whole diocese as it faces the future.

The bishop went on to taunt me about the failure of the CDM which I had submitted about the interim minister. I believe that this minister had contravened the code of practice for clergy and that his actions towards me were discriminatory and against my human rights. He had also enlisted the support of the present Archdeacon in his bullying actions towards me. This has had a devastating effect on my mental and physical health. I responded that my first CDM was a hard copy and had not been actioned because it had gone missing(?). The bishop then claimed I had submitted a CDM against her Archdeacon which was untrue. I wanted to tell the bishop how I experienced the behaviour of the minister and others in the church as spiritual abuse, but she scoffed at that idea.

At this point the bishop invited comment from the DSA.  He claimed that he had a raft of safeguarding concerns about me.  I could not gather what these concerns were about, but somehow mentioning them may have been thought to be another way of silencing me by making veiled accusations.   The way these allegations were brought up, seemed to have no connection with proper procedure.  I am confident that I have never contravened any safeguarding protocols. I told them I would meet any allegation head on because I had served the parish for 27 years with integrity. The bishop then told me that I should stop going to my parish church. I replied this was not going to happen, God wanted me there and I wanted to serve God there. The DSA then suggested they would pursue some kind of restraining order. I felt very threatened by this suggestion even though it did not seem to be a threat they were entitled to make. At this point I was feeling very distressed and told them that I was going to leave. I stood up, but was derided by DSA who said, “Is this how a Churchwarden behaves?” I said “I am not a CW.” The bishop then brought up the matter of my placing a portable image of the Virgin Mary on the altar of the lady chapel at the request of the Non Stipendiary Minister.  I wondered whether mentioning this episode was suggesting undertones of sectarianism. The bishop then said that I was responsible for the last three members of the clergy leaving, as though I was some kind of 5th columnist. She said she had reservations about licensing a new priest for the parish because of me. I said that if she believed all she said was true, she should hold an independent inquiry. I would welcome that. I had by now deduced that this meeting was a set up and not, what I was led to believe, a way forward. I told them it was an ambush. I did not feel comfortable and left the meeting and her house. The DSA ran out and caught me entering my car shouting ‘Stephen’ twice. I told him I would not be driven out of my parish church, and I drove off in a confused and distressed state.

When I had first contacted my diocese in April 2021 about the bullying I was subjected to, including nasty WhatsApp messages, they had no policy on bullying and harassment. On the 29^th July this year the diocese published its first policy on Bullying and Harassment.  There was also a procedure for making a complaint about safeguarding among several policies which had been absent. What I had been subjected to was behaviour which contravened both policies. I believe it is my persistence which has woken the diocese up to missing policies especially that complaints against clergy can be made through a process other than CDM route.  I had never been advised about it. It states on it that method of complaint will always be presented as a first option by the diocese, but it never was with me and it was not visible on their website.

So, after all this time I am still subject to bullying and spiritual abuse.

    Ed’s comment Today (Wednesday) we have received the vast report of PCR2 which contains up to date information about bullying and abuse in Church of England going back 70 years. No doubt the material provided by the Report will feed into my comments on the issue over the coming months. Meanwhile, I include here a first-hand account of the experience of one individual of church power abuse. I am aware that hearing only one side of a story about abuse raises potential problems of partiality. While obviously we do not have all the details of the background to this narrative, there is a part of the story which gives us reason to believe that the whole of Stephen H’s account is plausible and credible.  A bishop in the CofE might well suggest a mediation between the two parties following an unsuccessful CDM and use his/her authority to bring this about.  The fact that the expected mediation process was suddenly, apparently, abandoned by the bishop is an unexpected twist to the story.  The bullied one became further bullied by a double attack from the Safeguarding Adviser and the bishop herself.   Whatever animosity the bishop may have felt towards Stephen H, this intimidating behaviour, as reported by Stephen, is unbecoming of any church leader.

I recently had cause to read through the summary of the Clergy Discipline Measure (2003) as set out on the official CofE website.  Although the Measure is now due to be replaced with a new revised version, this original attempt to put something in place to check malfeasance among the clergy, seemed eminently sensible and measured.  As I read it, I tried to shut out the reports of CDM disasters that I have heard about that have taken place since it came into effect in 2006.  Some have reached the public domain while others have been privately shared with me as a concerned blogger.  Surely the combination of a qualified legal adviser and a diocesan bishop, which the Measure sets up as a quasi-legal determining body to deal with clergy disciplinary cases, would have the wisdom to administer truth and justice in every case that comes before it?  Bishops, we would hope, possess the status of trusted leaders and will only be appointed to their position because they have gained the respect and confidence of those who have worked alongside them over their years of ministry. Are not such figures all able to demonstrate the qualities of pastoral wisdom and goodness?  With these qualities, surely it is impossible for them, with the help of legal guidance, to allow any injustice to occur when dealing with clergy accused of malfeasance?  Sadly, this hope sometimes turns out to be misplaced.

My reader will not be surprised to discover that the CDM process has, in many instances, failed to live up to its aim to be a simpler, more straightforward method than the old consistory courts for dealing with problems of discipline among the clergy.  When I review some problem areas in its implementation, there is one thing that inevitably creates problems in providing justice.  This can be summed up in the single word – malice.  In using this word, I am far from suggesting that every disciplinary case in the Church involves the presence of any malice.  No doubt there are dozens of cases which are dealt with equitably and justly.   I would hope that most of the cases that come to the attention of the Diocesan bishop and his legal adviser are responded to expeditiously and well.  These are never heard of again.  It is only when malice comes to be a factor within the process that real problems can occur. 

Malice can come into CDM processes from at least two directions.  The first direction is from anyone, lay or clerical, who dislikes a particular clergyperson and decides that complaining about them will somehow make them disappear from the post they currently occupy.  Most of these malicious complaints are picked up at an early stage and are quickly dismissed.  But the very fact of facing a CDM may be extremely demoralising to the respondent.  They will live with uncertainty and stress for some time and, even if they are eventually found innocent, their self-confidence as a pastor to their flock may have been irrevocably undermined.  

The second potential scope for malice in the CDM process is more serious.  This is when a member of the clergy finds themselves the object of dislike or even enmity by other senior clergy who then use the CDM processes to harass them. A failure to be neutral on the part of a diocesan bishop is not unheard of, and this hostility is extremely difficult to counteract by the affected clergy.  The Christ Church drama demonstrated the way that the CDM process became used at one stage to further the deliberate malice against the Dean from other clergy as well as members of the College.   Few of us would have the necessary stamina to withstand constant attacks of this kind.  One of the most depressing things about the saga is the way that official church structures, in the form of the NST and the diocese of Oxford, had allowed an evidently spurious CDM claim to be pursued for months against the Dean between March and September 2020.  Seven allegations against the Dean were eventually dismissed.  It was especially striking in this case that no vulnerable person existed on whose behalf a safeguarding inquiry could properly have been instigated.  There was actually no complainant individual at all: the issue had been entirely fabricated by the Dean’s enemies. Eventually it dawned on the church authorities that their processes had been highjacked by the Dean’s enemies and the complaint was thrown out.  In the meantime it had taken several months of deliberation to arrive at this conclusion.  It was quite clear to those of us on the outside, that malevolence was at work and the whole CDM process was being undermined and manipulated by what appears to be a very public manifestation of spite.   Even a single example of church processes being manipulated by the malice of identifiable individuals helps to destroys our ability to have confidence in such processes.  If a bishop, and here I have examples in my mind, ever uses the church disciplinary processes to undermine a member of his/her clergy for reasons that have to do with dislike, then the integrity of that bishop as well as the whole CDM process itself is bound to be seen as flawed and without credibility.

Another serious problem with the CDM process has been the inordinate time for some investigations to take place.  The ones we hear about are those that seem to drag on interminably, putting a clergyperson and his/her family under appalling stress.  I am not sure that I would be able ever to recover from six months enforced ‘gardening leave’.  This talk of suspension brings one on to another issue which is the fact that it is very unclear why some, but not all, clergy are forced to ‘stand back’ while their case is considered.  This inconsistency can give rise to massive injustices.  George Carey was forced, in a fanfare of publicity, to surrender his permission to officiate for a time because it was discovered that the known abuser, John Smyth, had attended the college, Trinity College Bristol, while Carey was principal.  Smyth’s attendance was part-time, and he probably only rarely visited the college.  Why the NST made such issue of this detail, when a rapid examination of facts clearly exonerated Carey from any culpable behaviour, is a mystery.  The Smyth allegation clearly upset Carey quite badly. Those looking on must have wondered if this was an example of a weaponised disciplinary action. Was it that Carey, now in his 80s and on the edges of the national Church, provided an opportunity for those who are senior in the safeguarding world to show that they can act tough to protect the vulnerable?  The same solicitude for protecting the vulnerable was not taken in a far more serious ongoing case where there is an unresolved CDM.  This particular individual, known to readers of Private Eye, has allegedly committed far more serious misdemeanours.  Not only is this clergyman allowed to continue in his current post, but he is also permitted to apply for a senior post elsewhere in the Anglican Communion.  Having an ongoing and unresolved CDM against you is, apparently, no impediment to promotion in the Anglican Church.  A bishop issuing a ‘safe to receive’ letter for a clergyman with an unresolved CDM may be committing a falsehood, but he also may be wanting to remove a suppurating sore out of his jurisdiction.  In popular terms, the bishop is flinging a dead cat over the wall for someone else to deal with!

If we were able to claim that the CDM process is conducted everywhere with perfect justice and impartiality, we would still be left with fact that the whole system is often shrouded in secrecy. Sometimes we are told a lot about the individuals caught up in the process; on other occasions we are left in the dark.  I probably hear more about individual cases as people write to me.  I am quietly appalled at the level of malice that is found in some of these cases where things have gone badly wrong.  Speaking very generally, the complaint I hear again and again is that those at the highest levels of authority in the church are far more interested in shutting down inquiries into bad behaviour than in finding justice and reconciliation.   Meetings with bishops are sometimes described as experiences of being bullied so that the victim will not seek to reveal their story.  The focus is on the reputation of the institution and its officers rather than on putting right a past wrong.

A hierarchical episcopal church like the Anglican Communion has the chance to be an excellent model for Christian bodies everywhere.  For this model to work well, however, there has to be complete integrity within the structure and among the leaders, so that every member of the body has confidence and trust in them.  If any of these episcopal leaders engages in malice or dishonesty, it does not take long for a cancer of suspicion to spread across the whole body.  It is also not easy to be a bishop when previous holders of this office have spent time in prison or others are found to have involved themselves in lies and dishonesty in order to defend the institution.   The statistics that were revealed recently about public attitudes towards public institutions, show a significant decline of trust toward the Church and the clergy who lead it.  The bishops of the Church of England should perhaps be spending far more time in discussing how to communicate their absolute integrity to the ordinary people of Britain.  Churchgoing Christians also need to show themselves as decent wholesome people before anyone will want to hear what they wish to communicate about God.  At present we have been witness to too much outright seediness in our Church for the outsider to feel attracted to what we may have to offer.

I doubt very much if anyone has ever thought to write a book with the title: A Theology of Bullying. One reason for its non-existence may be that the word bullying is still associated in many people’s minds only with the abusive activities in a school playground.  A lot of cruelty and abuse would take place there but, because it was often out of the sound and sight of supervising adults, it was deemed not to exist.  Teachers and other adults are today, hopefully, far more attuned to the signs of child-on-child abuse in schools and better trained to deal with it. 

The word bullying, as we are all aware, can be applied to the abuse of power in any context and may occur in any human relationship.  Theology does have a great deal to say about power and its use/abuse so, by extension, theological reflection may be relevant in a discussion over bullying whenever it occurs. Relationships which involve power abuse are everywhere, whether in a workplace context or in a church. It is always important to understand why they happen, and we have the resources of a number of disciplines to help us do this. Attitudes in society mean that now we are far less tolerant of bullying behaviour.  For example, in the past it was expected that the novices in many work situations would have to endure power abuse as a kind of initiation into the adult world of work.  Even in the Church it seems to have been a common experience for training incumbents to have bullied their curates.  Whether Vicars were jealous of their younger colleagues, or for some other reason, the typical curate experience may well have included this experience of being bullied.   Power misuse in a church context was not only found in the experience of curates trying to find their feet as pastors and teachers.  We are now of course aware of the extensive catalogue of sexual abuse cases that continue to haunt the churches so grievously over recent years.  The authorities in the Church have made enormous efforts to protect the vulnerable from this particular manifestation of power abuse by the setting up of an extensive variety of safeguarding structures.  Unfortunately, these structures are so complex and convoluted that it takes a determined effort to find one’s way around them.  Even when we have negotiated our way round to understand all the Church’s structures to deal with power abuse and bullying, we find that there is one enormous failing in the whole enterprise.  To put the problem into one sentence, the Church does not really understand the nature and prevalence of power inside its structures and culture.  Without such an understanding the Church cannot root out the evil in the abuses that exist, whether in sexual exploitation or in the other forms of bullying that occur.  Without a detailed and intelligent understanding of power and the way it works in institutions and relationships, there can never be any end to this evil found in bullying and other forms of power abuse.

A good place to start our understanding of power and its abuse, are the writings of Albert Maslow.   He proposed that all human beings have a series or ‘hierarchy of needs’.  At the base of this hierarchy, we find the existence of fundamental survival needs.  These include the need for finding food, shelter and safety from predators.  When we have established our ability to survive and reproduce our species, our needs become more sophisticated.  We have social and esteem needs, and these can be attended to once the survival needs have been met.  At the top of the needs table is a state of existence which Maslow calls self-actualisation.   This is the peak of human striving, and it might embrace such things as spirituality and fulfilling one’s deepest strivings and vocation.  For many people the idea of self-actualisation remains an aspiration rather than a reality and they are content with the fulfilment of their survival and psychological needs.  My introducing of Maslow’s ideas is not the prelude to a full exposition of what he has to say about human striving.  Rather I want to suggest that there is a way of understanding bullying and human evil generally by presenting them as the shadows of the various stages of Maslow’s hierarchy.  To put in another way, each legitimate attempt to provide for one’s human needs can be easily corrupted to become an act of pure evil.

To return to the theme of bullying.  At one level we can see that bullying is a corruption of our natural and healthy need to preserve our life from threats to its existence.  The need to protect oneself and one’s family might begin as a legitimate desire for survival, but it can slide into acts of gratuitous unpleasantness towards another.  These acts may or may not involve physical violence, but the techniques practised by bullies are similar to the legitimate acts of self-preservation against threats of various kinds.  The thing that makes one violent act legitimate and another evil is found in what motivates them.  Bullies inflict evil and pain, not for survival purposes, but because it provides them with some gratification.  There is the pleasure of being in control, having power over another.  To summarise, power abuse/bullying finds its roots in actions that are connected with the instinctive behaviour around our self-preservation.  We know that if we are threatened, primitive instinct comes into operation, activating the fight/flight response.  Any use of this fight response, an expression of our raw power, will not be used very often we hope.  It is unsettling ever to be faced with our capacity for violent behaviour towards another.  Perhaps bullying is an addiction to this primitive capacity for violence.  Most of us avoid being attracted in any way to this form of gratification even though we recognise that we may have it deep down within the psyche.

Beyond mere survival for the individual and his/her progeny, other needs in Maslow’s construct come to the fore.  As we go up Maslow’s ladder of needs, we find legitimate needs existing alongside their negative/shadow counterparts. For example, love and belonging have positive manifestations but there are those who can only experience such things in a corrupted version such as dominance and control.  A higher level that Maslow calls self-esteem also may be honourable, but we also find a parasitical version which we describe as malignant narcissism.  The narcissist is the one who has learned through life how to feed off other people to meet his esteem needs.  Even the highest level of need, self-actualisation, may be at someone else’s expense by manipulating them in some way.

Maslow and his hierarchy of needs gives us, I believe, a different way of understanding evil and abuse.  To put it at the simplest, evil can be found whenever fundamental legitimate human needs are short-circuited and thus corrupted.  A human being has the right to expect to find at some point in his/her life a fulfilling partnership with another which may involve sexual expression.  This ‘need’ is not a justification for an act of violence or abuse to extract a fleeting moment of physical gratification.  In the same way it is reasonable to look for some form of human community.  This does not mean that we have to find a group of people to control and terrorise to fulfil our fantasies of importance.  Maslow’s hierarchy of needs is extremely helpful for pointing us to legitimate fulfilment and forms of gratification.  At the same time it shows us how easy it is for these to become corrupted and sources of active evil, both for ourselves and those whom we infect with that evil. 

What is evil?  The answer from our brief consideration of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs is that evil appears when human legitimate needs and desires are corrupted by their shadow side.  Two factors in the corrupting of Maslow’s legitimate needs are laziness or impatience.  When the child, Violet Beauregarde, in Charlie and the Chocolate factory shouted, ‘I want it and I want it now’, she was thinking and acting out the way that many behave today.  The ‘right’ to have our heart’s desire instantly, whether it is food, sex, power or wealth is a powerful motivation for becoming enmeshed in evil.  Because the legitimate need to flourish as a human being is quite close what is thought of by many to be a right to be gratified in whatever way we desire, there is a tendency to get the two muddled up.  When a parent gives way to a demanding child who, because of their immaturity, thinks only in terms of a instant gratification, he/she does that child an extreme disservice.  Long-term harm may be stored up for the young person who does not understand the difference between these two concepts of need and want.  In the same way there is much evil caused by the individual who can only see and treat all others as objects, i.e. as a means for personal gratification.

Human needs and human gratifications have the habit of getting confused in our minds.  Many find it difficult to disentangle them.  The problem for many is that some forms of gratification have become made respectable because they are practised by people we look up to.  We may perhaps see nothing wrong when a bully is in full flow because we have been conditioned to think of hierarchical authority as being always legitimate.  The use of the cane in schools of yesteryear seemed normal at the time because those of us who were witnesses of it could not contemplate the dimension of base gratification being felt by those wielding the stick.  In the same way we still find it hard to challenge the motivation of those who act unjustly in disciplinary matters, even within our churches.  Are they meeting their own psychological needs by administering such power/punishment or is there some other process going on? Disentangling motives for action is quite a hard thing to do, but perhaps what is more serious is the refusal ever to scrutinise these motives for doing the things we do, whether or not from a position of responsibility.  We all need to be able to recognise that the person who is put in a position of authority and power, may be simultaneously abusing that authority for reasons of satisfying a base need for gratification, and this has nothing to do with goodness and justice.

by Anonymous

A further instalment from Anonymous who wrote the last critique of CofE Safeguarding practice.

So the saying goes, there are lies, damn lies, and statistics.  Except that if you follow the British Religion in Numbers postings [LINK], you’ll notice how parlous the state of the Church of England is, and why numbers might matter.  For example, 70% of the population never go to church, and never pray. This will not be news to clergy, but it does explain the difficulties they have believing the latest missional growth targets set for their them by their bishops.

A recent survey into the trustworthiness of clergy and priests found that public perceptions in Britain Doctors (66%), scientists (62%), and teachers (59%) are considered the most trustworthy professions in Britain, according to the IPSOS Global Trustworthiness Index.  The global survey (an online sample of the adult populations drawn from 28 countries between May and June) found that clergy and priests were ranked ninth of eighteen professions in Britain. One third (33%) of the British population deemed them trustworthy, with almost the same again (29% )untrustworthy, with 38% neutral or undecided. The net positive score of 4% saw clergy and priests in Britain drop to eleventh in this presentation of the rankings. Globally, the average trustworthiness rating for clergy and priests was only 26% (40% saying untrustworthy).

We are not surprised at these numbers. Not because clergy are like the proverbial curate’s egg (i.e., good in parts), but because the church they represent is, frankly, not trusted.  Nor should it be. It will consistently put PR ‘optics’ above truth and justice. It will consistently bury bad news, the most egregious example of this being the report on the suicide of Fr. Alan Griffin’s tragic suicide being released the same afternoon that the last Prime Minister resigned. The Diocese and Bishop of London had been sitting on the report for weeks.  How extraordinary that the church should pick that afternoon to release a report on its culpability and incompetence.  But fear not, all of those who are implicated in this tragedy have either resigned, been suspended, or disciplined.  (That previous sentence is a made up one, and belongs to a parallel universe to which the Church of England will not “boldly go”).

Recently on another related website, a new Church Warden wrote in to ask if anyone could explain what NSP, NSSG, ISB, NST or the ISS meant, and why were there so many acronyms in Church of England safeguarding, yet nobody actually in charge or responsible for anything?  It is baffling.  If you write to Meg Munn – Chair of the NSG – about policy and practice on risk assessments, she claims that fraudulent risk assessments intended to harm a person in the process of the “weaponization of safeguarding” is not her brief. She writes about risk assessments generally apparently, and cannot comment on individual cases. Is any reader aware of any risk assessment, ever, that was general in character, and not personal or specific to an individual? We are not, but Ms. Munn believes this to be normal.

Just imagine a “general report on torture victims” that doesn’t delve into individual cases. Or a report on victims of abuse that mentions no individual cases.  If you can imagine these publications, there is currently a vacancy on the NSP for you. Although we are bound to say, being vacant is a prerequisite for applicants.

Surely safeguarding is always granular, specific and personal, and absolutely cannot be general? But in the Church of England, we do not speak of such things, for fear of being weighed and found wanting. Could the Independent Safeguarding Board perhaps have looked at deliberately fraudulent risk assessments? It declined to do so. How about the NST, or a Dioceses, or  a DSA? No, not them either. And this assumes they were not party to the production of bogus documentation, cover-ups and the like.

Reform will take a long time to arrive.  It takes moral courage and compassion to do the right thing, and this seems to be absent among our church leaders. Victims of abuse will only secure justice when the Church of England accepts that it will always have an inherent conflict of interest in trying to self-correct its failings, corruptions and abuses whilst simultaneously preserving its reputation. It needs to hand over all responsibility for safeguarding cases to a proper professional regulator with the teeth, clout, resources and fearless courage to speak truth to power, and bring the Church of England to heel. There is no other way.

When transparency, honesty and integrity are absent, all that is left to victims is legal action.  Repentance and redress must precede any attempt at reconciliation. At present, we have victims of abuse waiting many, many years for investigations to start or conclude. These investigations are often half-baked, and lack the resources, expertise and regulatory framework to compel subjects to engage with them.

Where does this leave the Church of England today? On this first birthday of the ISB, we are also at the tenth anniversary of George Entwistle’s departure from the BBC as its new Director-General. He lasted 54 days in post – a record in short tenure. Within weeks of starting his tenure as Director-General, the BBC became embroiled in the Jimmy Savile sexual abuse scandal. Entwistle faced questions from the government at the time over why the BBC had failed to broadcast a Newsnight investigation into sexual abuse allegations against Savile after the presenter’s death in 2011.

Entwistle was accused by Lisa O’Carroll of The Guardian of giving a “less than authoritative performance, showing a lack of curiosity about Newsnight’s investigation”. What had gone wrong?  With hindsight, the BBC had put reputational management above all else.  It had given Savile the run of prime-time for years, and also TV and radio studios for decades. During these times, he had reputedly and repeatedly abused minors. 

Yet when the Newsnight journalists were ready to go public with the broadcast, the BBC lost its nerve, and gave Savile more benefit of the doubt than might have been granted to Fred West or Myra Hindley. In the event, ITV took the story, and it was left to BBC Panorama to eventually upend its sibling-rival Newsnight, and expose the BBC’s complicity in the Savile abuses. 

But worse was to come.  Entwistle resigned as BBC Director-General only a matter of weeks later, following controversy over a Newsnight report indirectly and incorrectly implicated Lord McAlpine in the North Wales child abuse scandal. 

The parable hardly needs explaining.  The BBC covered for an abuser, and then falsely accused an innocent. It protected one abuser; yet abused an innocent person who needed protecting.  In the case of the BBC ten years ago, this led to the resignation of the Director-General, George Entwistle. We look forward to the day when Archbishops and Bishops, backed by the NST, ISB, NSP, NSSG, ISS or whatever the latest flavour-of-the-month safeguarding acronym is, will also have the basic decency to resign when they get things so badly wrong.  At present they don’t, because they have no accountability to anyone, and are unregulated.  Indeed, their incompetency’s often lead to higher preferment.

Until then, the Church of England of England won’t be trusted by the people. The clergy cannot trust the church or the bishops. And that will reap a bitter harvest of bitter decline. If only we had bishops with courage to put PR optics to one side, and act with integrity, and champion truth and justice. But we have none of such. We are no longer hoodwinked by episcopal spin with their motivational talks, hubris and defensiveness.  The Church of England is in decline because we can no longer believe or trust our own leaders.  For our sake, the people’s sake, and for God’s sake, please will they go?

I cannot be the only person who shudders when I hear the word deliverance or exorcism used in connection with the ‘pastoral care’ of LGBT folk.  Thankfully most Christians who belong to these communities and networks understand how to avoid such ‘ministries’.  Word spreads quickly that a particular church in an area is not a safe place for LGBT folk.  Some members of these networks may have discovered, to their cost, that any kind of involvement with these congregations is not just unpleasant, but it could even be described as dangerous.  It assaults both mental health and general well-being.  A recent book has been published on this theme by Matthew Drapper and he describes his experiences as a Christian gay man in Sheffield.  He was receiving an inhouse training at St Thomas’ Philadelphia so that he could exercise the ministry of a youth worker.  His attachment to the theology and style of an Anglican charismatic church was total but he found that his identity as a celibate gay man made his membership there increasingly problematic.  In the end, after nearly three years training at the Church, he was forced to leave the congregation.  He was thought to be some kind of threat to the well-being of the young people he was working with.

In Matt’s book, Bringing Me back to Me, he describes quite vividly the exorcism he was forced to endure as part of his earnest attempt to stay within the church community at St Thomas’.  Anyone interested in the unpleasant detail of the process conducted at a Prayer Team weekend in Feb 2014 can read it for themselves in Matt’s book.  I do not propose to dwell on the details of this event.  Matt clearly believed, at the time, that the deliverance process might help him overcome his attraction to men.  Clearly it did not, and Matt was left with serious trauma and an increase in his sense of shame and grief over not being straight.  He had failed to become what he felt he was required to be.  I tell the story in its bare outline because my concern is the fact that such processes are ever offered within an Anglican orbit.  As a former diocesan deliverance adviser, I am clear that the ceremony described in Matt’s book would be considered a breach of every CofE bishop’s regulations about deliverance as well as a gross violation of good pastoral norms.  Although the attempted exorcism took place some eight years ago, there is reason to believe that similar attitudes and practices still continue in parts of the Church of England.  Churches who conduct these irregular forms of ministry, designed to remove the demon of gay attraction, probably also sit lightly on all forms of episcopal authority.  When such ‘deliverance ministries’ take place, it is a serious matter and risks the infliction of significant pastoral and psychological harm.  The recent debate on the issue of so-called ‘conversion therapy’ has reached the level of Parliament and we may find that this practice is seen as harmful and may be outlawed by the law of the land.  The final decision on this matter has yet to be taken but there is clearly a large body of political as well as Christian opinion that feels that such legislation is necessary and urgent.

One of the difficulties that is encountered among Christians as they debate the issue of LGBT rights and morality is the background theology that conservative Christians use to make their arguments.  Those who are clear that gay sex is always wrong and evil will often bring a crude demonology into the discussion to buttress their point of view.  It is a difficult argument to contend with.  For the conservative side, any tolerance of LGTB rights may in itself be ‘proof’ that the more open group is caught up in the thrall of demonic forces.  You must be under the devil’s control if you fail to agree with ‘our’ conservative interpretation of Scripture.  The idea that there could be more than one way to read Scripture, which seems to be the dominant Anglican insight expounded by the Living in Love and Faith process, is not entertained.  The discussion also hinges on what we mean by demons.  I will happily explain what I understand to be the demonic in Christian experience, but my use of such language probably would not be sufficiently literal to satisfy the conservative wing of Christian opinion.  ‘The devil made me do it’ language does not cut it for me as a way to understand the issues of personal moral responsibility.  Ascribing the moral failings of others as an example of surrendering to demonic influence is also suggestive of a weaponised theology which is meant to undermine critics of the conservative worldview.  Debates about the nature of evil in the world are important but shorthand arguments about demons and Hell do not seem to explain anything at all.

It is extremely important to make sense of Scriptural accounts of Satan and the demonic.  However we come to understand this language, I find myself completely unable to accept the use of this discourse as a weapon to be used against other Christians.  In short, I deplore any attempt by Christians, whether in or out of the pulpit, to attempt to terrify or manipulate others by telling them that they are destined for Hell or under the control of the devil because they do not agree with the speaker.  I have noticed how devil language often seems to enter the discourse about equal marriage.  The implication is that if you do not agree that a condoning of gay marriage is the worst thing a Christian can do, then you are likely to end up in Hell.  Mention of the devil is or can be a serious form of hate speech.  How else should we describe language that tells another person that they are possessed?  It is abusive and certainly discriminatory,

Readers of Surviving Church will be familiar with the story of Lizzie Lowe who killed herself at the age of 14 believing herself to be wicked and beyond the God’s forgiveness because she had same sex attraction.  No one in her circle openly accused her of evil thoughts but she had internalised a thoroughly negative perspective from the few references to the topic that she had heard in sermons at church.  Given the fact there will always be a number of LGBT folk attending a congregation without necessarily making it public, a preacher must always be extremely sensitive to this likelihood before preaching on the topic using inflexible and condemnatory language.  We have already called anti LGBT rhetoric potentially hate speech.  We could also describe it as dangerous and inflammatory.  How far should our membership of the Anglican family suggest that such language is wrong and unacceptable?

In this blog post I am suggesting that if we overlook the danger, the cruelty and the trauma meted out to LGBT people in the name, we think, of an ‘orthodox’ reading of the Bible, we are doing real violence to the Christian faith. Arguing for a theological position is one thing, but to allow these same arguments to do harm to maybe vulnerable people – this becomes a safeguarding issue.  The LGBT community surely has right to practise its Christian faith in communities that do not question their right to exist and to claim salvation.  The Living in Love and Faith process continues its journey through the CofE and we are all aware of the probability that our Church will never agree on the topic.  The question that is still more urgent is not, who is right and who is wrong, but whether we are ever entitled to commit pastoral violence towards those we disagree with.  Should members of our Church ever be permitted to threaten the LGBT community with Hell and enslavement by the demonic realm?  These extremes of rhetoric and pastoral practice can do so much harm.

‘The devil walking about seeking whom he may devour’.  These words from the traditional version of compline remind us of the binary struggle between good and evil that exists within the imaginations of so many Christians.  Are we really going to suggest, as some Christians do, that the chief stumbling block to wholesome faith is the attitude we currently take on the gay marriage issue.  In 2022 you might think, to judge from the rhetoric in some places, that the only moral issue some Christians are concerned about is this topic.  For myself the primacy of the Gospel or good news is not defined by my attitudes over same-sex marriage, but my readiness to promote a world in which God’s shalom, as proclaimed by Jesus, is found. 

by Anonymous

Amid all the solemn events and the national mourning that have preoccupied most of us over the past week, the problems around safeguarding in the Church continue. The pain of unheard survivors and unjustly accused leaders is never resolved. Today, I include a contribution from a well-informed but anonymous source, taking a hard look at the current shambles in the Church of England around safeguarding.  The power of the piece is two-fold.  First, it brings together a great deal of information on the current (September 2022) state of play in the safeguarding world in the CofE.  Second, it asks the hard penetrating and critical questions that are possible only from a perspective of deep familiarity with all the relevant material.  Those of us who try to keep ourselves up to date with the record of the CofE in the safeguarding sphere, will be grateful for this analysis.  We can also applaud the clarity that it brings to what is a highly complex and often confusing area of church life. 

What do Bishops do in response to the case of a safeguarding abuse referral?  You might think that they would all, to a man or a woman, immediately refer such disclosures. This is what clergy are supposed to do according to the guidelines from the NST (National Safeguarding Team). Clergy are supposed to listen to responses of abuse in a non-judgmental way, carefully note the allegation of abuse, reassure the victim, and then report this.

Yet Bishops do not. If the complaint is about a safeguarding abuse, notwithstanding their primary duty of care  and obligations as Charity Trustees  their default response appears to instinctively incline  towards reputational management.  First their own. Second, their line-manager (if they have one). Third, their employer (CofE).  

Victims of abuse know first-hand that in the CofE the application of safeguarding protocol is something of a lottery.  In the Chichester Diocese we have heard recently how abusers can find their way back into church without proper risk assessments.  Yet elsewhere in the London Diocese, Fr. Alan Griffin was driven to despair and suicide through his treatment by a grossly incompetent, non-transparent and unaccountable safeguarding culture that, even this late in the day,  seems to be scarcely improved since the evidence given to the IICSA inquiry.

The case of the former Dean of Christ Church, Prof. Martyn Percy also involved falsified risk assessments which were disproportionate and cruel.  The Bishop of Oxford, DSA, Diocesan lawyers, head of HR and senior clergy all deemed these assessments as fit and proper while no one in the process admitted having had any hand in writing them. What is clear is that none of the ten independent “risk assessors” approved to act  in such matters on behalf of the Diocese had anything to do with them.

All these flawed examples of process were supposed to be put right by the creation of the newly created Independent Safeguarding Board (ISB).  It was designed to answer the many expressions of dismay about safeguarding practice at every level of the Church.  General Synod was treated to assurances by Bishop Jonathan Gibbs extolling the” independence” of this new body, and the huge competencies of board members. But behind the façade, things were unravelling fast.

The problem with the ISB,  apparent from the beginning of its existence, was that it was unaccountable to anybody and lacking in professionalism and competence.  In its first year there were two serious breaches of data, leading to the suspension of the Chair, perhaps permanently. The Information Commissioner’s Office ruled against the ISB over the leaking of data, and it is currently under scrutiny from the Charity Commission.

Was the ISB ever independent? No. In spite of what was claimed by Bishop Gibbs, the ISB was and remains a creature of the Archbishops’ Council. It is they who have power to appoint  and removed its Chair

In a fortnight, the first birthday (the drum roll, fanfare and announcements, welcoming the ISB) will be upon us.  But as things stand, little has been achieved and nothing has changed for victims of sexual abuse and abuses of safeguarding process in the CofE.  The decisions that are made as to who is allowed to get off scot-free and who is strung up for failings seem arbitrary. So much of what takes place seem to be about preserving good PR rather than delivering truth and justice for the Church.  

The lawyers and PR agents who enable these processes use a number of underhand practices. The Percy case seemed particularly rife with ‘dirty tricks’, like leaking false information to the press.  There are cover ups of bad practice , not least the use of anodyne “learned lessons reviews” which are designed to ensure that nobody is actually held to account for bad practice even those with fatal consequence. The Archbishops know about all this. They do nothing. 

When things go wrong there is no appeal.  If a Core Group fails you or if a Bishop abuses you through the safeguarding process there is no process for seeking redress. Remember what the Coroner said about what it described as the   ”preventable death” of Fr. Alan Griffin?  The Archbishops have opted to forget. Not one of the incompetent people or processes in this and other cases has been brought to account. Not one. That is corrupt.  There is no other word for it.

Anybody can be abused by NST processes, so it is worth reminding readers of what they can expect if falsely accused. Or, for that matter you have actually been abused, and are intending to report this to their bishop.

1. Nobody working in CofE safeguarding at any level is ever subject to any kind of oversight by an external regulator, minimum standards or professional code of compliance. This is a Wild West.
2. Each Core Group can set its own terms of reference, and is not bound by any good practice  from previous Core Groups.  No member of any Core Group has to be trained in any relevant professional skill. It is all pretty ad hoc.
3. No person working in the Church safeguarding is required to complete mandatory training in unconscious bias. Core Groups largely comprise untrained, unregulated, unaccountable and unlicensed individuals. Conflicts of interests are not identified or sanctioned.
4. Good news. You can complain about your Core Group. Bad news. You can only complain to the Core Group you are complaining about.  They are unlikely to respond to you.
5. In other news, your Core Group may let you see the minutes of its meetings. Or it may not. It may meet as often as it likes, and not tell you. It can change its membership – but as you often won’t know who is on it in the first place, this can hardly concern you. It might meet frequently. Or seldom. There are no minimum moral, legal or professional standards to which CofE Core Groups work. They can make it up as they go along. And they do.
6. Your Core Group will make important decisions that may have serious personal, legal, financial and reputational consequences for you. You can be sure that no independent legal expertise will be present in these discussions.  Nor will there be an independent person able to advice on such issues as mental health, your vulnerability and the like.  (See earlier discussion of Fr. Alan Griffin, and how to complain in 4 and 5, above).
7. Your Bishop – omniscient – is likely to know what your Core Group have discussed and decided before you do. You cannot complain about your Core Group. Or your Bishop. Incidentally, even if your Core Group make a statement, the Bishop and his Communications Director have the total and absolute right to interpret the decision as they wish, and if needs be, alter the plain meaning of sentences, or just ignore it.
8. You can write to anyone you like in the NST or Archbishops’ Council about this, and  they will tell you there is nothing they can do. They are only following process. They are only obeying orders. Nobody is ever responsible, as the Bishop of London can confirm (c.f. Griffin case).

Because the Church of England is exempt from the 1998 Human Rights Act there is no access to the Civil Courts for remedy even if there have been fundamental breaches to the principles of Natural Justice or the Right to a Fair Trial. The Church documents may pay lip service to the HRA, but that is all it is. The Church will ruthlessly plead its immunity as and when it suits. The CofE has its own legal system and the Bishops are judges, jury, prosecutor, pastor and friend to you, all at the same time. There is no conflicts of interest policy.

Would you expect to meet any sane person who, looking at the menu above, might take a chance on a process that has more in common with mediaeval witch trial than a system of open justice? But if you try and protest or complain, the bad news has one more twist. It is this. Nobody is actually running safeguarding. Everybody has plausible deniability for responsibility.  

Senior leaders in the CofE like to pretend they are on the side of the victims of abuse and miscarriages of process and injustice. They groom victims accordingly. But all the leadership of the CofE want to ensure is that they never, ever, have to face scrutiny, a courtroom or justice such as befell Cardinal Law. Because they’d end up in the dock on the defence team, explaining why they did nothing about the clergy they were all protecting and their hapless victims. Likewise, the CofE senior leadership don’t really want to be in the dock defending incompetent, corrupt and vindictive processes.

Reform will take a long time to arrive.  It takes moral courage and compassion to do the right thing, and this seems to be absent among our church leaders. Victims of abuse will only secure justice when the CofE accepts that it will always have an inherent conflict of interest in trying to self-correct its failings, corruptions and abuses whilst simultaneously preserving its reputation. It needs to hand over all responsibility for safeguarding cases to a proper professional regulator with the teeth, clout, resources and fearless courage to speak truth to power, and bring the CofE to heel. There is no other way.

When transparency, honesty and integrity are absent, all that is left to victims is legal action.  Repentance and redress must precede any attempt at reconciliation. At present, we have victims of abuse waiting many, many years for investigations to start or conclude. These investigations are often half-baked, and lack the resources, expertise and regulatory framework to compel subjects to engage with them.

So, Happy Birthday to the ISB – a body launched with such fanfare, but was rapidly shown to be no more than a ‘sleeping policeman’. It had no legal, financial or any independent identity apart from its creator, the Archbishops’ Council. 

Fortunately, the Solicitors’ Regulation Authority (SRA) have already stepped into that argument.  Plexus, the lawyers acting for the ISB, are currently under investigation for possible “serious breaches” under the SRA code. This follows Plexus’ plea that the ISB cannot be taken to court because it has no real kind of existence. Much like a Core Group for the NST. Or indeed, the NST itself. Here the Archbishops would  do well to bone up on what has happened in other parts of the world to churches and dioceses that refuse to accept responsibility for their failings, misconduct and sins. In the end, the law will change.  Perhaps  the best example of this comes from Australia, with the ‘Ellis Defence’. 

There was once a commonly used device by denominations that wanted to avoid vicarious liability and responsibility for the actions of its clergy, boards, dioceses and committees. For a  long time you could never sue churches. The Ellis Defence arose in the case of Trustees of the Roman Catholic Church for the Archdiocese of Sydney v Ellis & others, in New South Wales in 2007.In this case, Mr Ellis brought a claim against the Roman Catholic Church for the Archdiocese of on the basis that he had suffered historic sexual abuse.

The Diocese argued that while all the property of the Church was held by the trustees in each diocese incorporated under the 1936 New South Wales legislation, those same trustees were not responsible for the conduct of the clergy and there was no legal entity available to be sued in respect of the misconduct of the clergy themselves. They kept playing this ‘get out of jail card’. It had always worked.

So the Court originally upheld the Diocese’s argument, and crushingly, Mr Ellis was ultimately denied the opportunity to have his case determined on its merits as it was found there was no proper defendant to sue.  (NB: Memo to Bishops Gibbs, Faull, Conalty and to Archbishops Cottrell and Welby – this is exactly as you are currently doing with the ISB. As for bringing Bishops Croft and Mullaly to account, must we keep on waiting for you to act?).

Mr. Ellis, however, was not finished. His case went to the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse, and in 2018, law reform was introduced across Australia to protect the victims of institutionalised child sexual abuse. New legislation was enacted that forced unincorporated organisations including religious institutions to nominate a legal entity with sufficient assets for child abuse survivors to sue. In passing legislation of this nature in the State of Victoria, it noted it was designed to, “quash an unfair loophole preventing child abuse survivors from suing some organisations for their abuse”.

So, where Cardinal Bernard Law (Archdiocese of Boston, USA) and others had gone before, so in Australia, eventually, did the courts decide that somebody had to pay, with some body ultimately responsible.  The demise of the ‘Ellis defence’ was a watershed moment, and marked a significant step in offering redress and protection for some of the people in Australia that had been abused by or failed by the churches.  It now meant that churches were no longer allowed to hide behind the law. May the CofE learn, mark, and inwardly digest.

The other anniversary coming soon is the Coroner’s Report on the preventable death of Fr. Alan Griffin.  Most of those involved in that scandalous tragedy remain in post without so much as an adverse note on their file. The Archbishops say and do nothing.  Nor does the Episcopal Triumvirate running the NST, nor any of the various advisory bodies allegedly  advising and overseeing this shambles. They’re all doing things behind the scenes, apparently, working under the radar to reform this debacle, just like the Archbishops claim too.  

Frankly, you’d be a fool to believe such assurances. This safeguarding sock-puppet show just goes on and on.  It is a grim performance, earning nobody’s trust, respect or confidence. It is a national tragedy that the CofE is led by such people in our time – a leadership lacking in moral courage, compassion and intelligence.  As long this continues, the Church of England does not deserve to survive.  At all.

by Stephen Lewis

To a very few the recent events will have no personal significance at all, and the public outpouring of grief seem completely inexplicable and unacceptable. I tactfully suggest that I’m not writing with this group primarily in mind, and I apologise in advance for saying things which may well even anger you. 

I was out walking on the 8th September 2022, and my wife alerted me by text message that the Queen was unwell. Returning home after getting soaked in torrential rain (in hindsight it seemed appropriate, as a metaphor for tears) I turned on the news. It was fairly obvious that Her Majesty had already died, and this was sadly being confirmed gradually via other sources. In a way, this method of managing the breaking of terrible news, was quite effective and I believe I understand why they chose to do it this way. 

But thinking I was prepared for the official announcement of our monarch’s death was wrong. Alone, I wept at 6.32pm. 

I write as an ordinary person, and as someone who was never likely to have met Queen Elizabeth. So why was I in pieces? How are so many of us?

Diana touched the lives of all of us in some way. Most will recall the events and aftermath of her death a quarter of a century ago. In those middle years, for me, was the greatest reality check for my perceptions of the Royal Family, as anything other than ordinary people, like the rest of us. 

Steeped in national pride and a child’s understanding of Kings and Queens, this is how it was for me and many of us in the U.K. Aged 4, I recall being perplexed as to why Phillip wasn’t King Phillip. The answer to this and many other mysterious peculiarities of our country’s traditions have gradually but never completely dawned on me over the years. In fact I have little interest in all the paraphernalia of royaldom per se, but a great affinity for the central character. 

The Queen was different and demonstrably better than the rest. Of course she got things wrong but was prepared to change and worked tirelessly all her life to show genuine concern for as many of her subjects as she could. 

Also genuinely upper class of course, her late majesty was born into the “stiff upper lip” system in place to supply and populate the ruling class. This is, for her and for many, an accident of birth. Many of the negative aspects of this system have rightly been called  into question and eroded through atrophy and direct challenge. I believe the Queen was as prepared as many to lead the way in expressing more and more humanity as her reign progressed. Her upbringing would have strongly advised her against taking tea with Paddington Bear, but 70 years on she became adorable as well as all the other qualities we had firmly attributed to her, deep within our psyche. 

As a simple commoner, how could I be so moved by, not just her parting, but by so many of the things I’ve since seen and read about it on the news channels? At a deep level, “Queen and country”, and now developing almost strangely, “King and Country”, are set concepts at the heart of who I am, my identity. Many analysts have described these things as “Objects”, almost solid mental representations lurking centrally, but unconsciously usually, in our minds. The Queen was one of these for me, and still is. I think perhaps the same applies to several generations of peoples, not just here in the U.K., but across the world. She was someone we looked up to massively. Death does not eliminate such passionate views. We all know this is the case for other close ones we have lost, be they good or bad memories now. 

Neither can our strong views on monarchy v republics dilute our love for the Queen. All my life I have questioned the sense of it all. Would I, born into it all, be prepared to serve my entire life for my country in the way she did? Could I have endured the pre-, pan-and post- media intrusion into every aspect of my family’s life? Could I have kept working up to 96? Would the apparent reward of cooks and servants and loads of rooms to live in, have made up for the loss of freedom to do almost exactly as I choose, almost all of the time?  No. They wouldn’t, not in the slightest. I could have walked little more than a week in her proverbial shoes, never mind a lifetime. 

So I believe many of us share this deeply set holding of our leader, deep within ourselves. She’s not the only one of course, we want to look up to others to. It’s not dependency per se, rather a typical way that the mind, and indeed the communal mind is organised. We do indeed have rapid fire interconnection in this way. These mournful times are a painful reminder of how difficult it is to be unaffected by the feelings of others, despite our best intentions. I hadn’t intended to weep. I hope the neighbours didn’t hear. It was, as someone described it, a quivering lower lip, the stiff upper one being absent without leave. 

Times of great grief, are often trigger movements for other losses to make an appearance. For some of us, the current situation is a poignant reminder of the closeness and enduring love we did not have, but ought to have done. Grief is contagious and the 24-7 supply of scenarios to stoke these fires may not be altogether healthy, mentally. That’s not to say the continuing broadcasts are wrong. Not at all, but we may have to titrate our exposure to it. 

Queen Elizabeth is irreplaceable. My own opinion is that no one comes close to her, nor ever will be likely to, certainly not for generations. Her loss is therefore all the greater for this. Of course there is a good line of succession, and we wish his Majesty King Charles III the very best. Indeed I believe he has made a very good start in a number of ways. 

Individually my feelings don’t register much for others in the scheme of things, but collectively our shared grief is almost nuclear in its power. Not just in Britain, but across the world, we need to be sensitive to each other’s feelings and allow what is happening (at its best) to prevail. In doing so we will be part of a vital unity of humanity, which may be only fleeting, but I believe will cement new and persisting values together of what our great monarch embodied. 

For those of my friends and loved ones outside of all this, I remember you, and please bear with us for the moment. 

In respect for the solemn events of this and next week, Surviving Church is taking a pause. For my readers I offer the exquisite hymn/prayer known as the Russian Kontakion which was used at Philip’s funeral. no doubt at the request of Her Majesty.

Give rest, O Christ, to thy servant with thy saints:
where sorrow and pain are no more;
neither sighing but life everlasting.
Thou only art immortal, the creator and maker of man:
and we are mortal formed from the dust of the earth,
and unto earth shall we return:
for so thou didst ordain,
when thou created me saying:
Dust thou art und unto dust shalt thou return.
All we go down to the dust;
and weeping o’er the grave we make our song:
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

 

When we want to describe a group of people who agree with each other, whether it be in a political or religious context, we can use positive or negative words to describe that agreement.  Among the positive words are ones like harmony, unanimity, or consensus.  The negative words include groupthink or collusion.  The word we choose to use in the context of people agreeing with one other indicates what we think about the agreement.  Sometimes agreement seems positive while, on other occasions, we suspect some political chicanery.  Deep problems are being buried under the surface of pleasing words.  But whether seen as negative or positive, getting people to come to any kind of common mind can be extremely arduous work.  It can take hours of discussion and some of this may be heated and unpleasant.  Sometimes the agreements that are reached come about because one side gives way to exhaustion from the fight.  Clearly, even when a common statement has been reached, the agreement that is presented to the world does not necessarily denote underlying peace and unanimity.

When we think about our own lives, we may be able to remember when we first began to have opinions about things.  If we had wise parents we would be asked for those opinions, even if the subject matter was relatively trivial.  A six-year-old may well be invited by the family to articulate a favourite food or a preference for a holiday destination.  Many of these opinions probably reflected the parents’ own choices but the task of listening to the child is an important part of family nurture.  True independent thinking has to wait for a later development stage.

If small children find it hard or impossible to have different opinions from their parents and the rest of the family, the same is also true when they join other social groups at school or in other settings.  A young child, boy or girl. Is desperate to belong and will go along with the thoughts and behaviour of a group, however perverse, in order to stay within it.  The common mind we have with others is likely to be a form of groupthink. Standing completely apart from the actions and opinions of others is very hard to do.   We could go so far as to say that for most of our younger years we are ‘groomed’ by our groups and the company we keep to go along with the crowd and that is something that goes on right up into adulthood.   Standing up for our unique convictions when everyone around you is thinking and acting in a predictable and identical way, is very hard to do.  Most of us, as young people, fail in this testing of our principles except in fairly unusual circumstances.

Once we become fully adult, theoretically we have the opportunity to find out who we truly are and what our personal convictions consist of.  Adults are those who are supposed to be fully responsible for their judgements, actions and opinions.  We know for ourselves this is not always the case.  The tentacles of outside persuasive forces continue to affect us from many directions. There are several possible reasons to make us susceptible to such influences.  It may be a loyalty to an institution that holds us back from our desired mature independence.  It may also be the legacy of a troubled childhood that keeps part of our functioning immature.  There may be a continuing childish desire always to please others, and this may override a more mature way of dealing with people. There are quite simply a host of ways that can undermine straightforward grown-up existence which counts as independent maturity.  We all must struggle with these different forces that may affect and weaken the much-desired mature independence to which we aspire.  We might even find ourselves accepting the proposition that, for much of the time, our words and actions owe more to others than to our own core self.

When we view the Church and particularly those who work within it as its officers and leaders, there are particular problems to be noted. Reflecting on my own past as a clergyman in the Church of England, I recall one particular tension that always existed.  Within the context of pastoral relationships, there is often a tension between the desire to be ‘nice’ and the need to challenge.   Although in the CofE the payment of the following month’s salary does not depend on preaching agreeable sermons, there were still pressures that could be brought to bear on me when the content of sermons deviated away from a notion of ‘orthodoxy’ held by prominent supporters. There are also expectations of pastoral care which could run counter to the convictions of the parish priest.  Finding the right path between doing what was popular and what was the true conviction of the leader is always difficult to achieve.  Fortunate indeed is the priest who finds that his/her personal convictions and those of the chief opinion makers in his/her parish roughly coincide.

The pressures that befall a parish priest are varied and what I say here cannot describe all of them.  I am just reflecting on this idea of expectation as it refers to the situation faced by the typical priest. Sometimes the expectations that are placed on him/her are entirely appropriate but sometimes not. Meeting every demand placed on one is likely to be impossible and probably not desirable anyway. However, the majority perform a ‘good-enough’ ministry to allow a reasonably stress-free existence.  I sense however, that the question of fulfilling expectations adequately and, at the same time, being reasonably true to one’s core-self becomes a greater problem if the priest is ‘preferred’ to a higher rank – that of bishop or archdeacon.  Such senior leaders do not just have to meet the expectation of a finite number of parishioners and church members, they also have to perform correctly within the rules and processes of the wider institution.  A bishop is now a representative figure, a spokesman for the whole, and so he/she is far less able to have, or rather express, private opinions if they deviate from an official line.  Any public statement to be made has first to be processed by a public relations expert. Also, a bishop is faced with all the serious problems of the diocese and its clergy.  He/she has to respond to many situations that no one else wants to deal with.  In our many discussions of safeguarding failures, it is clear that amid the palpable failures of those in authority in this area, there are also enormous pressures on bishops caused by trying to meet all the expectations of all the different parties. Bishops probably can never hope to meet all these expectations and at the same be true to their core being.  They have to live with the reality that they are bound to be a disappointment to one group or another, even to their own inner aspirations. Anyone with even a small amount of sensitivity will feel the considerable stress of these situations. The higher up the hierarchy the clergy climb, the greater the stress felt by those who want to do and say the right thing but cannot because they are the creatures of the role they occupy. 

The individuals who occupy the highest ranks in the Church of England have to live with further complications and these make it difficult for them to be able to experience contentment or job satisfaction.   Alongside trying to meet the expectations of those they serve, there is another challenge to their peace of mind. Bishops and clergy all occupy a place which is defined by the law of the land.  While parish clergy can refer most of their legal responsibilities to others, bishops have to accept responsibility for some difficult legal decisions. Applying regulations which in some cases have not been formulated well, as in safeguarding, simply adds to their stress.  Although some bishops acquire influence and prestige from participating in debates in the House of Lords, we have suggested that the freedom to articulate their true personal feelings and attitudes is severely circumscribed.  Bishops seem to have less freedom to speak their truth than the curate just out of college. Representing the whole Church of England and their diocese, they also have to follow the requirements of the lawyers and publicity curators who control and manage things behind the scenes.  How can any individual deprived of self-expression ever feel true satisfaction in their role?  Just as important is the question – how can a partly silenced leader ever inspire and lead his/her people in a single direction?  The job of representing and meeting the expectations of so many, as well as operating within the constraints of a cumbersome and sometimes corrupt institution, must take its toll.  This role of leader, defender and mouthpiece of a flawed institution must be an enormous burden.  Perhaps the greatest cost to be paid is the experience of being unable to be connected to their deepest truths.

In writing about the power or absence of power given to those highest in the hierarchy of our Church, I am reminded of the confrontation between Jesus and Satan on the mountain of temptation.  The CofE has given enormous prestige to a small group of men and women but seems to have made the possibility of finding their real identity and truth more difficult.  The ‘kingdoms of the world’ as shown to Jesus perhaps represent all the glamour of high office, but it comes at the cost of being manipulated by many forces outside their control.  How many of the house of bishops now realise that the loss of the freedom to find and express their true selves (and thus their ability to act as leaders) is a far greater sacrifice than they had probably ever wanted to make?