
The current row over the rights and wrongs of Dominic Cumming’s trip to Durham may seem a long way from the concerns of this blog. Indeed, it is, and I do not propose to spend time here analysing the ethical issues involved. I happen to agree with those who feel that Cummings and Johnson have destroyed their right to impose their moral authority over the citizens of this country. Few will want to take Johnson’s leadership seriously ever again. What now interests me now is the way that many Anglican bishops and clergy have come out to protest openly over the lawlessness of our Prime Minister’s closest adviser. When bishops seem to agree on an ethical principle in society, it is right for us to stop and take note as to what might really be going on. Gilo has written a passionate twitter post on the topic, but he questions the bishops’ moral stance when it is viewed in the context of the Church’s dealing with survivors. The bishops are, in Gilo’s mind, guilty of gross hypocrisy. I give a link to his post. https://twitter.com/seaofcomplicity/status/1264916304244375553/photo/1 To put the question another way, are the bishops engaged in some kind of displacement activity? Are they jumping on a bandwagon of moral outrage when there are issues within their own backyard that should be faced and owned up to?
I have argued for a long while that the bishops of the Church of England exercise oversight over an institution, at times severely compromised. Our Church seems to operate on two levels, and it needs leadership for both these aspects. The first is the theological or ideal aspect. This attempts to embody and articulate the spirit and the ethos of its founder. Thus, the Church would be expected to enrich us all by being a place of reconciliation, healing, forgiveness and joy. The other aspect of the Church is the physical reality of its institutional embodiment. This involves buildings, money and power. It is extremely hard for this second dimension of the Church’s existence to remain anywhere approaching moral perfection. Whenever power and money come into any situation, there will almost inevitably be conflict of some kind. In the Church’s institutional life, as we constantly remind our readers, power games are often played, selfishness is common, and people are often exploited and treated badly. You expect such behaviour in institutions in general, but somehow you always hope that the Church will operate according to a different set of rules and values. Sadly this does not seem to be the case.
A newly ordained clergyman entering the Church to serve it, might hang on to an idealised picture of its life for many years. Even though, as time goes by, examples of greed, narcissistic power games and hypocrisy enter his/her awareness, the hope clings on. Bad behaviour is believed to be in no way typical. We can, thankfully, always find exceptions to patterns of selfish behaviour and self-serving among the Church’s leaders. We need such examples to retain our faith in human nature and in the integrity of the Christian belief system. But perhaps we also have the uncomfortable feeling that were we to know more, the total picture would be far more depressing than we know.
A bishop who takes on the oversight of a whole diocese is the one person in the Church in the area who has access to knowledge about many of the things that may be wrong inside the structure. That knowledge is a heavy burden. Every example of incompetence, laziness or immoral behaviour among the clergy will be causing harm to the people of God. How does the bishop deal with this information? Episcopal power is not exercised in the way that the world understands. Clergy cannot be hired and fired on a whim. A bishop has often to sit by and let things take their course until death or retirement intervenes. The Church has chosen to be an institution which protects its employees, but this comes at a cost that is high. The one who knows how much this costs the church in terms of harm and lost opportunities for mission in a diocese is the one who bear this burden inside his/her head at all times. If there is any sensitivity, possessing this knowledge will cause pain. The role in protecting the institution, its reputation and good name means that all this knowledge remains the bishop’s alone.
The bishop is also the figure that is nominally responsible for all those who live and work in the diocese. He/she is also responsible or those who have lived and maybe suffered under a previous generation of clergy or leaders. The bishop will often alone have access to the filing cabinets that contain that past. Will he/she metaphorically dare to look inside these cabinets, or will there be a preference to leave them firmly shut in the hope that the secrets contain there will not emerge to further disturb his/her equilibrium? The various examples of survivors finding bishops with ‘amnesia’ or less than sympathetic to their appeals for justice and support may perhaps be partly explained by this fact. Some bishops have already had their sympathy and compassion shut down by what they already know. Perhaps they are in some cases victims of what might be known as a form of compassion or justice fatigue? Compassion fatigue may be another way of describing the way that sensitivity and a working for justice have been crushed out of an individual by too much exposure to the realities of human failure. Learning about abuse takes its toll, even for someone on the edge of things like myself. I am sure I could not manage to process as much information as bishops may have in their purview. As T.S Elliot said: ‘Mankind cannot bear much reality’.
To return to the Cummings affair. I am suggesting that the enthusiasm by the bishops to take a moral stance on this matter may perhaps be explained by the fact that most of the time the moral issues they face are fuzzy around the edges. Here is a clear issue on which to take a stand and reclaim some kind of moral leadership. The role of bishops in the church and society has been blunted in the fact that their own institution has been compromised, as Gilo points out, by failures over safeguarding in the past. In some cases, their personal histories may have involved them in past, morally dubious, episodes in the church. The scandals of Ball, Smyth and Fletcher to name but three, involved many other parties, including some currently serving bishops and clergy. Some were guilty through silence, others by collusion in evil activities, and for every clergyman sent to prison, there must have been many who knew something but did nothing. The IICSA hearings helped us to see a little what was going on behind the curtain in Lambeth Palace and in various Bishop’s palaces. The preoccupation of those in authority in the Church seems always to have been to protect the institution and its employees, even if ordinary survivors were left out in the cold. In contrast to Gilo, I am going to suggest that there needs perhaps to be a greater, more compassionate, understanding for the position many of the bishops find themselves in. Their response to survivors has been poor to the point of being cruelly negligent. Perhaps, were they able to speak to us as human beings, rather than as our spiritual superiors, we might glimpse a suffering and pain as well as a genuine concern for the needs of others. Hitherto that has been hidden beneath the need to preserve the institutional shell.








