
There is a story in the gospels about a widow who makes demands of a judge to hear her case. Time after time she is rebuffed. Eventually, her sheer persistence and a readiness to make herself a thorough nuisance, persuades the judge to accede to her request to be heard. The implication is that without having made herself a cause of serious irritation for the judge, the widow would not have received any hearing of her case.
The complaining widow finds a possible echo in the many people who cry out for justice by taking their complaints of church abuse and bullying to those in authority – the CofE bishops/leaders. Then, having failed to find there what they believe to be a just solution to their complaints, some try taking their case to what they believe to be the highest legal and moral authority in the Church of England – Lambeth Palace (LP) and the Archbishop of Canterbury who lives there. Out of sheer desperation and losing hope of finding anyone else to listen to their story and their appeals for justice, many individuals in the Church end up trying to communicate with the Palace. The recent Social Care Institute for Excellence (SCIE) report on LP casts an unflattering view of the way that these appeals for help from survivors and victims have been processed and responded to. Even though LP employs a number of full-time staff to answer letters and receive phone calls from the public, there has been little sign that safeguarding cases have been reacted to with an adequate degree of skill, compassion or expertise. The overall message, that is shared by those who spoke to the auditors who wrote the 80-page SCIE report, suggests that few seem to be heard effectively. What might an abused person expect from a phone conversation with an employee at LP? They might expect that the call would, at the very least, be logged in some way. They would expect some kind of response if individuals or churches were mentioned as being dangerous to church members. If they made follow-up phone calls, they might reasonably hope to speak to the same person that they had poured out their story to earlier. Instead of these things, survivors have been fed with formal stereotyped responses which do not appear to want to understand the detailed content of what is being shared. Another way of putting it is to say that there seems to be no indication that those who work in the section of the Palace that deals with safeguarding correspondence and emails, possess the required degree of compassionate and intelligent understanding of the needs of survivors.
The SCIE report sets out a scenario at LP where ordinary common-sense responsiveness was not being applied. Many survivors who spoke to the auditors of SCIE, felt let down, marginalised and thus re-abused by the protocols in operation at LP. While they were hearing public pronouncements from the Archbishop, that survivors’ concerns were at the heart of the Church’s safeguarding work, the reality seemed very different. The reality was countless examples of institutional betrayal. It came over as an organisation that did not know how to care, having neither the resources of expertise or manpower to tackle this enormous task. That such extra resources were needed, in terms of training, focus and money, should have been obvious to anyone who had the measure of the abuse crisis. That things were allowed to stagger on, under resourced and without any sense of urgency, for such a long time, speaks of weak management and lack of vision at the top.
Although I am, like everyone else, reading of the institutional failures of the leadership and direction of LP from a distance, there is a sense that I feel quite close to what is being described. My reason for saying this is that like others, I am regularly approached by some of the same army of abused individuals who seek help. Having written on this blog about the broad topic of power and its abuse in the church for almost ten years, I ‘meet’ online dozens of individuals who want to tell me their story. Some of these stories become a blog contribution in their own right. The abuse survivor who is able to write up their story seems to find some comfort in seeing his/her experiences published on the blog. It is in this way that I have been cast into the role of an unseen confessor to a variety of men and women with a safeguarding story to tell.
Having accidentally become a listener to the painful experiences of others in this safeguarding arena, I have allowed myself to have some opinions on the topic of survivors’ needs. When a survivor with a level of distress contacts a total stranger like me or one of the enquiry staff at LP, there are some common factors. Those who email me out of the blue probably do not think of me as a stranger, as I have, over the years, revealed a considerable amount of personal information about myself. I do express opinions as well, which may not be to the taste of all my readers. Opinions and information about my theological perspective at least give my readers enough information to know whether they feel they can trust me with sensitive information of their own.
Those who have suffered an abusive episode in the church want to tell someone about it. Telling the story to someone without any role in the church is perhaps far easier than negotiating a complicated complaints process. My role and the role of the blog as a whole is to provide a listening post. Nobody who writes on the blog expects (thank goodness!) anyone to wave a magic wand and bring perpetrators to account and produce thousands of pounds of restitution money. They expect to be listened to with respect and patience. I want to go on to suggest what I consider to be the minimum requirements of a listening ministry from my perspective. This is normally all I can offer to those who ring, and it may be all that can realistically be offered to the majority of those who contact LP. We might hope that the Palace would be offering continuous training for such a ministry.
Requirements for a listening ministry.
Confidentiality
The sharing of deeply personal information is an act of trust. I need hardly say that such information, though shared, still belongs to the sharer. As such it cannot be divulged without the permission of the one revealing it. There are obviously some exceptions but, in practice, the disclosure of actual criminality is not an everyday occurrence. Far more typical is the disclosure of cruel and incompetent care by so-called professionals in the aftermath of an abusive event.
Background knowledge
One particular strength among the small band of advocates for and members of the survivor community is that they understand well the setting and background of what has been going on. They have read and studied the reports and enquiries and will know other people active in the field of survivor advocacy. The expertise and background knowledge of survivors and their advocates is far greater than the majority of the professionals employed by the National Church Institutions (NCI). It is a constant source of frustration that events that took place more than a year or two before are not known about among many professionals. The really vital task of remembering and providing ‘narrative wisdom’ has been easier since the launch of the website ‘House of Survivors’. I strongly commend it.
Humanity and trauma informed experience
Some understanding of the psychological pain of survivors is important. Dealing with trauma in another person is never easy but the listener can at least learn not to be surprised at sudden outbursts of anger or emotion that can appear within the listening process. Listening will be articulating our desire to understand even when it may be difficult both for the one who is entrusted with such information and the one who is sharing it.
Continuity so that story is only told once.
One of the constant irritants for the one who is raising a complaint against an individual or an institution is the need to tell the story repeatedly to different bodies. Also, the last thing a survivor wants to hear is that, having painfully told their personal story, he/she then finds it has not been properly recorded or that it has disappeared into the system. The survivor is desperate to be heard and, if the story is not thought important enough to be listened to with real attention, it is experienced as a profound betrayal. This was evidently a frequent event at LP in their interactions with the survivor community.
Practical support where possible. Contacts, resources and practical help.
A large institution like the CofE should want to be seen to support survivors in every possible way. Placing resources into the effort to help those whom we now know to form a considerable cohort of abused individuals, is a sign of compassion but also of seriousness. LP has access not only to funds but also to people with considerable experience of legal and therapeutic matters who are needed to help the wounded back to a path of wholeness. A lot can be done to help and rebuild the CofE’s safeguarding reputation if imagination and energy are put into the task.







