
There was a comment on the last blog post about what can happen when ordinary clergy ask difficult questions at a Diocesan Synod. The particular Synod questioner, writing on this blog as ‘Margaret’, was describing the way that senior staff felt ‘uncomfortable’ because their decisions were being challenged. This has caused me to reflect about the costs involved in speaking truth to power. The writer then told us how her questions had led to a later awkward meeting with the Diocesan bishop. At this meeting she was asked/told not to query such things as diocesan expenditure. Arising out of this meeting, was the realisation that she was being cast in the role of ‘troublemaker’ by all the members of the Bishop’s senior staff. Various hoped-for opportunities for ministerial development had then been closed to her. Other training options and the possibility of a new post had also evaporated. To describe the situation from another point of view, the power of patronage that had helped her up to a certain point was now being withdrawn. When I use this word patronage in this context, I am not talking about those with the gift of presentation to a parish, I am referring more generally to those who have power within any hierarchical system to advance or hinder an individual’s career. Cutting off Margaret’s opportunities for extending her ministry was, to put it bluntly, the price that she had to pay for speaking her truth and prophesying to the system. Those with the power, here the power of patronage, were wielding it to protect their power and their ‘right’ not to be made to feel uncomfortable in their administration of the Diocese.
We have, of course, in Margaret’s account, only one side of the story. I am, nevertheless, inclined to take her version seriously, especially as she mentions the earlier hints that she had been a valued member of the Diocese and once could look forward to new opportunities, even preferment. We can imagine that, before her name became synonymous with ‘awkward’ and ‘nuisance’, the senior staff would normally have thought of her role in the Diocese with approval. But now that she had upset the system by challenging power, her reputation had been allowed to plummet. The issue for senior staff seemed to be, not whether she was right or wrong in her questioning. The issue was her audacity in questioning the senior office holders holding power. It is hard to see that once the groupthink of the senior staff had come to their conclusion about Margaret’s behaviour, that there were any obvious ways to recover their favour. Her final word on this dynamic was this: ‘Those of us who could be a voice of change, are being excluded by those who hold power’.
To be thought ill of by a single individual is not pleasant at the best of times. When one’s reputation is trashed by a group, that is extremely difficult and hard to deal with. We can imagine a situation where the reputation of one person is quickly decided upon within a group/committee, perhaps because of the bias and known dislike felt by one or two members. This tendency for a group to listen to and base its opinion on unverified gossip, is what seems to have happened in the case of Father Philip Griffin. This case will be remembered for a long time in the Church in England. It appears to be a classic example of what can happen when no individual in a working group wants to challenge the groupthink about an individual in a committee type setting. In the Griffin case, group processes allowed a tragedy – a suicide- to take place. It was not only the failures of protocol that here are shocking; there is also a miasma of incompetence and prejudice all around the event. Gossip and reputation shredding against those who did not meet with the approval of those in power in the Diocese of London, seem to be rampant in London safeguarding circles and no doubt elsewhere. It never seemed to occur to those in charge how important it is always to disentangle innuendo from properly attested factual material. Groupthink is a dangerous power dynamic at the best of times. When it is weaponised and applied against individuals who are out of favour for any reason, it can be extremely dangerous and a likely cause of injustice or worse.
Many people have been wondering over the past few months how the Church of England can carry on with so many crises and challenges to its integrity. There is surely a limit to the number of times it is realistic to say that ‘lessons will be learned’. Some of the crises are indeed financial and practical – how do we pay the bills and find a way to keep churches open? The greater crisis is the moral one. Does the Church speak to the nation of honesty, integrity and straightforward dealing? Alternatively, what are people seeing, when they look on? Is it just a relatively small privileged group clutching onto status and the remains of past historical glory? The report of the coroner in the Griffin case, Mary Hassall, contained one further shocking detail. It is one that reveals attitudes in the Church, which claim, as of right, privilege and status within society. The coroner was asked to avoid criticising clergy and other officials by name. This action suggested an institution in full panic mode. The Church seemed to be asking the coroner to cooperate in its projection of a manicured self-promotion. ‘We cannot let our shabby behaviour be seen by the wider public. Our reputation must at all costs be preserved even if we have presided over a terrible safeguarding failure’. The coroner also referred to 42 other clergy who have acquired tarnished reputations over the past twenty years. We have at present no means of knowing whether any accusations against these clergy are based on solid evidence or are rooted in a mixture of gossip and innuendo. There must be an extraordinarily low level of morale in the Diocese of London at this moment. This probing of a senior management structure that tolerates sloppy oversight over its clergy and its own structures does not suggest a good setting in which to work. The implications of this story will run and run. One thing that is quite clear is that the case for independent scrutiny of church structures in London is clearly strong. Any independent person coming into committee settings where gossip and intrigue was shared, would surely blow a professional whistle to halt such nonsense. The question that has always to be asked is, what is the evidence? Who has made a complaint? When did the accusation first appear and who knew about it? The coroner has rightly criticised a complete failure to disentangle innuendo and gossip from properly established facts. As a final twist to the appalling suffering of Father Griffin, is the fact that the investigations against him, even if not part of a formal CDM process, here as elsewhere, were allowed to drag on interminably because no one seemed willing to make decisive decisions.
Returning to Margaret’s account discussed above, I found myself asking the question which might have occurred to my readers. What would I do in her situation? Would I ever challenge a diocese and its structures if I felt money was being misused or some personnel decisions were being made which appeared to be wrong? The answer is that I probably would never have done such things. I would probably be doing what most clergy do in such a situation. That is to keep noses clean and continue their ministry without the risk of being considered a troublemaker. In other words, my critical faculties, when sitting on church committees, might have been subdued if I felt the powers of patronage present. I am sure that there are many in the Church who think like this: any thing not to damage one’s career and one’s peace of mind. In short, integrity and the exercise of the prophetic role will normally take second place to a quiet and safe life.
One of the interesting things about my retirement from full-time ministry has been the discovery of things to say about the Church. These while still in active ministry, would never have been explored.. In reading Margaret’s account, I realise how much of what I have to say here is made possible by being in a situation of retirement. I have reached the time of life, where from the perspective of Diocesan structures, I am completely invisible. For reasons that I do not understand, my PTO application to replace the previous one, which expired in April 2019, has been lost in the system. It is probably a combination of Covid, paperwork confusions and possibly administrative incompetence that has meant that I am still waiting. One good thing that has come out of this fallow time from normal retirement ministry, is the freedom to focus on the ‘different’ ministry that has come through writing this blog. I seem to be in touch with dozens of people up and down the country who are involved with (or victims of) safeguarding issues. If my name were ever to come up at a local Bishop’s staff meeting, there would be a complete blank on all the faces present. I am unknown to all of them. While this invisibility would have mattered a great deal when I was at the height of my active ministry, it seems to be less important as I get older. It certainly means that I have less to fear from the dreaded threat to the mental well-being of all clergy, called the CDM.
The apparent life-changing, career-changing effect of speaking prophetic truth to power that Margaret suffered in her diocese can be undertaken with a greater freedom by those of us who have, because of our retirement status, no current stake in the system. We have this freedom to say things that others cannot say because they are under the potentially arbitrary exercise of church power used against them. It is important for others of us to use the power of the pen and the net to defend and support powerless victims of power abuse. I salute the courage and bravery of dozens of individuals who suffer under the exercise of arbitrary power. The freedom that my retirement status gives me means that I will always (strength permitting) be able and ready to fight on behalf of those who are bullied, exploited or treated badly by those with power in the Church.