Today, February 1, is the second anniversary of the Channel 4 programme about the John Smyth scandal. In many ways this scandal remains the greatest open wound among Anglican abuse scandals that has yet to heal.  What went on in a hut in a Winchester garden between 1979 and 1981 has never been properly resolved.   Although Smyth acted alone, the way that his actions involved so many others, victims and supporters, is mind-blowing.   Although his behaviour was not actively condoned by anyone else, the networks he belonged to allowed him to escape scrutiny and justice for the rest of his life.  Those who passively supported Smyth have also been allowed to escape questioning.  Although the extent of exactly who knew about his nefarious activities is in dispute, it is apparent that a whole tranche of well-connected Christian individuals did know what was going on.  These people are in some cases still alive, but they have never been questioned in a formal way.  The common denominator was a link with the camps at Iwerne Minster.  Smyth had been chairman of the trustees for these camps, so he would have known and been known by everyone active in this network at the time.  As has been stated on various occasions in this blog and elsewhere, the camps at Iwerne in Dorset brought together, as participants or supporters, a wealthy elite within the evangelical world.  To this day the Titus Trustees continue this same work, the task of evangelising a privileged sector of English society, public school boys.

When the scandal of John Smyth’s behaviour broke with the screening of the Channel 4 programme, everyone expected that there would be a full enquiry about what had been revealed. While the probing eyes of IICSA have been allowed to dig deep into the Chichester Diocese and the Peter Ball affair, no such enquiry has been conducted into the affair of John Smyth. When Smyth died in August last year, a press release from the C/E safeguarding bishop, Peter Hancock, was released.  He stated that ‘It is important now that all those organisations linked with this case work together to look at a lessons learned review, whilst continuing to offer formal and informal support to those who have come forward as survivors.’  The promised enquiry (and the support for survivors) seems to have vanished into thin air.  One of the problems may be that the Titus Trustees, who maintain fierce independence from the wider church when it suits them, may simply have refused to cooperate.   There was also a statement from Archbishop Welby which expressed an unequivocal apology for the role which the Church of England played in this deplorable affair. We might have expected that somewhere in the past two years some practical steps would be taken to begin to put right the appalling legacy of Smith’s toxic behaviour.  But that does not appear to have happened.

There are believed to be at least 20 Smyth victims in Britain at this time. Based on the comments made on Twitter by one of them, Archbishop Welby has not met with any of them personally. I am not here going to get into the argument about how much the Archbishop himself knew of the activities of Smyth before it came into the public domain; even if he did not, it is quite clear that there was a serious conspiracy of silence among many other leading evangelicals in England about the whole matter. This cover-up and denial have exacerbated the pain of Smyth’s victims.  Simultaneously a necessary challenge to the corrupt culture within evangelicalism which allowed Smyth’s toxic beliefs to flourish, has never been properly aired.

What could have happened in the past two years to make the Smyth episode resolve itself in some way rather than fester like a tank of stagnant water? I have a few suggestions.

• The Church of England even though it was not responsible for Smyth in a formal way, should, in the spirit of Welby’s apology, hold an enquiry. This would allow the questioning of key witnesses to establish who knew what and when.  Several of the members of Smyth’s network which drew up the Ruston report in 1982 are still alive and none have given any public account of what they knew. The ability of Smyth to flee to Africa subsequently and be financially sustained by a group of wealthy evangelical sponsors, especially the Coleman family, needs to be properly explored.

• The second area, which needs to be explored by an enquiry, is the aberrant theology which undergirded Smyth’s behaviour. The biblical quotations with which Smyth intimidated his victims need to be understood. If there are still any evangelicals who believe such things as painful chastisement being of spiritual benefit, let them come forward and argue these extraordinary notions. If they disagree with these ideas, then that also needs to be heard.  We need to know in 2019 that such toxic ideas about suffering and salvation have no place even in the darkest places of the Christian imagination. By allowing Smyth to flee the country and by sending considerable sums of money to support him, parts of the evangelical establishment seem never to have distanced themselves from him and his ideas right up to the time of his death. We need to understand more fully what this long-term support of Smyth by prominent and wealthy evangelicals implies about their own involvement in this dark area of Christian history.

• The third area of action that is needed is for the Titus Trustees to accept some responsibility for the care and support of those who suffered so grievously as the consequence of the incompetence of their predecessors on the Iwerne Trust.  It has been noted that the Titus Trustees have control over considerable sums of money. They should be shamed into making a substantial contribution to the psychological welfare of Smyth’s victims. If they do not, their future work and the work of the Iwerne camps will be permanently tainted by their historic association with the activities of John Smyth. Is that what they really want to hand on to the next generation of their campers whom they hope to influence in the future?

Two years have passed since the Channel 4 programme and we are still waiting for some movement to take place.  We look to the Titus Trustee as inheritors of the Iwerne tradition or to the Church of England, some of whose members helped to promote Smyth and his dangerous ideology. If nothing is done, one wonders how peace can ever return to the Church.  There is still a bitter legacy to be addressed – a legacy involving brutal physical abuse, inflicted in the name of a corrupt theology.   We are still waiting for the process of healing to  begin.

Every so often we read a story in the press which makes us feel pity and anger at the same time.  A story that can inspire these contradictory feelings in us might typically involve a young man who has got on the wrong side of the law after joining a gang on an urban housing estate.  The gang has then led him into a culture of violence and anti-social behaviour.  This culture that he has now made his own has had the result that he is being charged with carrying an offensive weapon and dealing in drugs.  There is public anger at this behaviour and this anger calls out for punishment.  At the same time there is another kind of anger inside us.  This is the anger at the overall situation which incubates a life with so little to look forward to in the future.  This second strand of anger is suffused with pity as one thinks of a mother who may have struggled against all the odds to keep a young boy away from the fascinations of gangs and knives. 

From the point of view of the law, such cases have no ambiguity.  The young man, having reached the age of maturity, must face the full legal consequences of his actions.   If he is locked up in prison, our first kind of anger is assuaged.  The verdict appeals to our sense of justice being vindicated.  But, as we all know, our feelings in a case like this are far from simple.  Assenting to this legal response to the crime does not satisfy and assuage all that we really feel in a case like this.

The feelings of a sympathetic bystander towards a case of gang violence are not easy to resolve.    Although justice, in accordance to the laws of the land, has been meted out, we know or suspect that there are many aspects to the story which will never be revealed to the public domain.   There will probably be a combination of many burdens that the young man has had to carry – poverty, addiction, failure in parenting, an absent father, a poor education.  In short, a young person has faced every form of deprivation.  The way he has behaved is far from surprising.  He is guilty, but the guilt he bears is somehow different from the guilt of a privileged individual who, from a place of privilege, has deliberately chosen to kick over the traces.

The clear calm declaration by the legal system that a particular individual is guilty of a crime, provides the rest of us with a label to place on the condemned person.    But even now we should hesitate before placing the sentenced individual into a place that is utterly apart from the position we occupy.  The deeply unsettling question that we may ask in this situation is this.   How would we, having travelled along the same trajectory of life chances, have behaved in this situation?  How can we be sure that, just because of our more favoured circumstances, we would have avoided this kind of behaviour which has led to time in prison?

How many of us have travelled in our imagination to a place of cultural and spiritual emptiness which is occupied by many of the very poor?  How would we cope?  If we had stripped away every advantage we may possess in terms of education, intelligence, emotional stability and mental health, where would we be?  We would, no doubt, be a different person.  Would that difference make us still able to function as a moral being and is there a place that is beyond conscience and human sensitivity?  I am not aware of anyone who really discusses this conundrum.  I for one would never want to carry a knife or indeed use any form of violence against others.   Yet I can imagine being suffused with violent anger against other people and prepared to defend family and home if under attack.  Because this has not happened, these emotions have been kept back.  Sometimes they might be artificially and temporarily stirred by reading a novel or watching a film; they do not form part of day to day reality. 

The fear that I carry, is that were I to be stripped of all my advantages of education and upbringing, I would not be any different from the convicted gang member. This raises all kinds of questions about whether Christian virtue is equally accessible for all.  Is a learned set of responses which some are taught, and some not?   The story of Adam and Eve seemed to imply a universal moral code available for all.  Life experience tells me that it is likely far more complicated than that.

There is another group of people in society who make, from my perspective, perverse but perhaps understandable choices.  These are the individuals who find themselves victims of cults – harmful religious or political groups.  At some point in their lives, they have made a choice to become part of this kind of group, unless they were born into them.  The choice to become part of any such group is deemed by the law to be an adult choice and thus they can be ignored unless, in rare circumstances they are led to do something criminal.  As adults the only protection the law offers is to protect them from open obvious harm. Most cultic-type groups stay the right side of the boundary and do not abuse their members in an open way.  But, over a period, harm does take place and cult victims will quietly and subtly be deprived of many of the things that make them fully human.  They will typically lose self-esteem, confidence. independence of thought and creativity. Some will be sexually abused, and the majority will lose all their money. Eventually they may end up as clones of the group, tied into the psychological profile of the leader.  As such they will be hard to reach by people outside the group.  Conversations will be stilted and lacking in spontaneity, humour or warmth.  It is tempting to walk away from such people because they have made themselves so hard to reach.

Any success in communicating with people in closed groups, gangs or cults, will require us to exercise our imaginations to understand how they have arrived where they are.  We may be able to see that what they have become, is largely because of the circumstances of their lives.  Having seen this, we will be more reluctant to draw a boundary between our world and theirs.  We all to some degree embody the outworking of our life stories.  Sometimes, serious wrong-doing emerges, and this has to be punished.  But who can really say where the boundary lies between a predictable response to a poor background and actual evil?  Fortunately, no one, not even in the justice system, is required to make that precise judgement.   Equally no one is required to determine how much, if any, responsibility a spiritually abused person has to carry for their original decision to join the harmful group.  The focus should always be, not on laying any blame, but on finding ways of helping them leave, if that is what they want to do.   Supporting such people in an attitude of total non-judging acceptance is the focus of this blog.  This blog is also committed to making this phenomenon of spiritual abuse and bondage better understood.  We have the example of Jesus who called individuals to a new outlook and a new beginning and all that is implied in the rich word metanoia.  In our longing to help people who are in different ways trapped by gang entrapment or group bondage, we too can be enablers of the same metanoia.

The Church Times (January 25^th) has published an interview between its reporter Hattie Williams and Meg Munn, the new chair of the National Safeguarding Panel (NSP).  This Panel is part of the byzantine complexity of safeguarding structures in the Church of England which I tried to interpret in an earlier post.  Hitherto, to use an analogy, the Church’s safeguarding industry appears to be like a cluster of small sailing ships all going in the same direction but with their riggings hopelessly entangled together.  Now with the ship being captained by Meg Munn, the NSP, we can at last begin to see clear water between the ships.  In a word, Meg Munn has declared her determination to strike out to provide a clear independent voice on behalf of good practice and the needs of survivors.

Two areas of interest which are particularly striking, and which are discussed in the interview, are summed up in the words, independence and depth.  The first of these words sums up the importance of striking out from existing vested interests and taking a new stance.   Those of us who listened to the IICSA hearings on the Diocese of Chichester must have been struck by the cosy collusion among those in authority that went on over decades.  The system seemed to protect its own because everyone with any information was caught up somewhere in a spider’s web of loyalty, deference and vested interest.  There was no one outside that network that could speak truth to power.  Meg is unsure whether the system of historical enmeshment needs an independent national body to oversee it, or whether the existing structures, diocesan and national, can be made to work.  The fact that the question is being properly asked is indeed a sign of hope for the future.

Another sign of real hope is that the NSP is to meet six times a year.  This will concentrate minds and memories as bi-monthly meetings are less likely to let decisions go cold and ideas slip away from attention.  The body will certainly have greater influence if its discussions are constantly placed on the agenda of the national church.  The House of Bishops and General Synod are far less likely to ignore the safeguarding agenda if the Panel is constantly coming up with new ideas and proposals for their consideration.

The second of the two words I mentioned is the word depth.  Hitherto, this blog has noted that the National Safeguarding Team (NST) based at Church House has had no specialist in therapeutic matters working with it.  This has sent a clear message that safeguarding is all about management, structures and good practice for those working to prevent future abuse incidents.  The concerns of survivors seemed to be, if not ignored, certainly placed low on the agenda.  I expressed the opinion that the Church should set up a completely independent body with the sole task of caring for survivors.  Given the fact that the team working for the NST must be costing in excess of a million a year, it seemed reasonable for the church to pay for a small team to coordinate therapeutic care for survivors.  Meg’s passion to understand the impact of abuse ‘from the inside’ is very welcome.  The interview revealed a personal link to experiences of abuse in that she has two family members, each abused ‘horrifically’ by a Catholic priest in Australia.  It is hard to see how the Panel will ever be allowed to stray from an awareness of that experience to focus merely on structural matters and management of systems.

To summarise, the interview with Meg Munn gives us the sense that the future of safeguarding and the care of abuse survivors is a brighter one than in the past.  The option, which many of us favour, for an independent body to oversee the church’s work in this area, is under consideration.   Even if this proposal does not come to pass, we all have a sense that survivors have a real champion in Meg.  In a blog or two back, I wrote about the importance of creating a bridge which needed to be crossed between the world of efficient safeguarding and the world of caring effectively for survivors.  All too easily in the world of safeguarding, the ‘experts’ live on one side of the river or the other.  Few of them, because of professional background or intellectual training, want to span this particular gap.  In Meg Munn we seem to have someone who is willing and able to cross over this bridge so that the Church can be taught to fulfil its vocation both to protect the weak and to minister and care for those who have suffered in the past.

At a time when political authority seems to be unable to assert itself and rules and hierarchies are everywhere challenged, it is time to ask some questions about what might be going on in church and society.  Traditionally there were patterns of deference which acted like a kind of glue holding institutions together.  People belonging to structures of society, like a school or a church, knew exactly how authority functioned and who was in charge.  Although the individual member might have some role to play within the whole, all major decisions were made by the people at the top.  That pattern of deferring to our seniors and betters also gave us a sense of security.  We could rely on their greater experience and knowledge.

The current state of collapse in our political institutions through the Brexit impasse is paralleled by a new stridency in the way that our church authorities are being constantly challenged.  Last week the story covered by this blog was the confrontation by the 104 clergy of the Oxford diocese against their bishops.  Whatever else was going on in the letter that was presented, it would be true to say that old-fashioned deference was far from the minds of those who signed the letter.  There was more than a hint of hubris in the tone of the letter.  It was saying ‘we have the bible and we control the purse strings.  Do what we want or else.’  A letter in the Church Times as well as the arguments presented by this blog argued that the level of support was not perhaps not as deep as the signatories claimed.   A naked threat was still there.  It is not an easy time to be a senior churchman or a politician for that matter.

I began to think about this idea of deference as it touches our church and political life.  The older we are, the more that this deference is going to be part of our mental structure of thinking.  Just as obedience was drummed into us as children, so we accepted a naturally hierarchical model in society and in church.  The words of the Prayer Book catechism come to mind.  (Yes, I was made to learn it by heart!) ‘My duty towards my neighbour is to …..submit myself to all my governors, teachers, spiritual pastors and masters: to order myself lowly and reverently to all my betters’.  Reading these words after sixty years helps me to appreciate what a different society we live in now.  In many ways life then was easier for the ‘betters’ and those they controlled.  Everyone knew their place and so there was less conflict or challenge to the status quo. 

How have things really changed in our churches?  The most obvious thing to be seen now is that more opinions are being heard in church discussions.  Lay insights are being taken seriously.  The thoughts of bishops are not given automatic priority in the marketplace of discussion.  The internet has also increased the cacophony of voices being heard within the church.  A blogger in a remote part of the world can say things that may be heard in bishop’s palaces.  Deference is not a word that would describe much of what is going on today in our church life. 

The pattern of old-fashioned deference and obedience does however continue in one area of the church.  Ironically the congregations that do the most to question and undermine the authority of the leaders that oversee their churches are those that practise the greatest level of control over the details of members’ lives.   I am of course referring to conservative evangelical groups.  Up and down the country we find places where high levels of control and obedience are enforced.  While the local leadership is questioning and challenging the bishops set over them, a tight level of supervision is often exercised over the people in the pew at the same time.   This will particularly touch on such things as acceptable beliefs, money choices and the conduct of intimate sexual relationships.  Obviously, this kind of biblical control is less common in Anglican settings than it is in the independent Pentecostal/evangelical congregations. But it still exists as a strong feature of church life in many centres.  To take up membership of one of these churches, Anglican or not, one is required to regress, in terms of social attitudes, at least 40 years.  There, deference and obedience are being demanded, not to ‘masters and betters’, but to a cadre of controlling clergy and ministers in the name of biblical truth.  You will be expected to obey, defer to authority and allow your whole life to be controlled in exchange for the promise of salvation. 

The deference and obedience that was built into the catechism generation has long gone.  Politicians, police chiefs and church leaders no longer can assume the respect of the rest of society.  It is only in conservative Christian congregations, some Anglican, that such attitudes continue to exist.  Most of us, who do not belong to churches in this tradition, would claim that such deference is a harsh form of control rooted in fear and paranoia.  Whatever we think of the failure of deference in society at large, this fear-laden Christian version that is found in conservative congregations is not highly regarded by the rest of society.  We would also claim that it has little or nothing to offer to the enjoyment and celebration of ‘life in all its fullness’.

Every so often I am contacted by an individual over something with abuse or a safeguarding issue.  Sometimes I can suggest things or people to talk to in order to receive help.  On other occasions I am left stuck.

I want to put on-line the outlines of a case with the hope that someone will know what to do and how to activate the processes of the Church of England to support a vulnerable adult.  In this case things have now reached an impasse and I suspect that the case will in fact only ever be resolved when it is allowed to be handed over to the secular authorities.  A church in the south of England has been the spiritual home of a middle-aged woman (we will call her Jane) for a number of years.  Recently a very old friend of this woman re-established contact with her after a long time.  She had known her well in the past and they had both attended an evangelical church in London for many years.   The friend noticed that Jane had suffered a personality change of some kind and stopped communicating easily.  She had moved to a smaller house in the area, and the move was visibly assisted by key people in Jane’s church.  While Jane was serving the church as minutes secretary for the Church Council there was something odd and secretive about this role.  Her friend noticed by chance on her computer that there were two directories on her word processor.  One was marked ‘minutes’ and the other ‘changed minutes’.   As the friend knew that the church concerned had been failing to publish its accounts for more than a decade and large sums of money had been acquired via undocumented loans (some of which the contributing churches were unaware had not been listed in congregational accounts) and then not properly audited, she was alarmed.  As a church member elsewhere, she knew that the absence of these accounts and the secretive nature of church affairs was irregular and contrary to legal and church protocol.  When Jane seemed unwilling to talk to her about any of these things, her friend began to suspect that there was some system of control over her in operation. 

The Church of England follows the State in declaring that some adults be categorised as vulnerable.  Jane’s friend began to believe that the excessive degree of paranoia and fearfulness together with high suggestibility were evidence that Jane was becoming or had become a vulnerable adult.  She had signed documents in the past that she acknowledged she did not understand but said the ‘Minister had asked her to sign them’ so she presumed it was all right. Jane seemed totally unable to make any decisions on her own without reference to others in the church.  While Jane seemed pleased to renew an old friendship, there were large parts of her personality that were out of reach.  She appeared devoid of emotion and was often found “disassociating” – (seeming glazed).  The friend wondered whether this was a case of spiritual abuse by the church.  The changes to Jane’s personality, when she discussed them with others, suggested a clear case of institutional coercion and control.  Normally when this diagnosis is given, it is a man who is pressurising the woman in this way.  Was this a case of coercion and control by a church?

Jane’s friend decided that she had to do something about the situation.  She consulted the web-site for her diocese and contacted the local Diocesan Safeguarding Adviser (DSA).   She was impressed by the speed and efficiency with which he responded to her request for help.  He took extensive notes and promised not only to make enquiries about Jane but to ask questions about the other issues connected with the church and investigate the possible financial irregularities including where any Accounts might have been lodged.  He also promised to find the appropriate police contact to hand over potential evidence that had been gathered. (The relevant Bishop has also said in emails that he thought his DSA could point her to the correct police contacts to assist.)

The friend received the impression that this kind of case had piqued the DSA’s interest and that he was going to give it plenty of attention.  He took copies of all the financially irregular and other legal documents shown to him.  She heard from him once by email to say that he was trying to make progress and then the case was suddenly shut down.  She had an email to say that she should visit her local police station or call 101.  This response had the feeling of being formulaic as her local police station had closed years before. The friend’s judicial contacts confirmed that “someone must have got to him”.

What are we to make of this story?  It would seem that the DSA had been ordered by someone in the system not to disturb the status quo.  Something in the Diocesan structure was more important than the safeguarding of a vulnerable woman. Who is one to appeal to in such a situation?  The independence of dioceses is celebrated but we can we can see that this story strongly supports the contention that independent oversight is needed.  Why should anyone in the diocesan structure be able to close down, without explanation, a legitimate concern about a vulnerable adult caught up in an apparently abusive church situation? 

The evidence that has been shared with me in the past about Jane leaves me with little doubt that the church concerned is one that exploits its members in a quasi-cult manner.  Such churches sit lightly on the structures of authority, whether secular or ecclesiastical.  Perhaps what I am raising is the impotence of the system of safeguarding to oversee churches that practise spiritual abuse.  About twelve months ago there was a flurry of discussion about the existence and meaning of spiritual abuse, occasioned by the Timothy Davis case.  Perhaps DSAs don’t feel equipped to deal with this situation as it touches on theological issues.  But whatever else is true, there is a fragile vulnerable woman who has been robbed of her confidence and peace of mind to become a shadow of her former self.  All this has been done apparently by a church.  The Diocese where she lives and the DSA do not want to investigate or help.  As they cannot or will not do anything to investigate or protect her, is there anywhere else that can assist in this situation? Is this a case where a safeguarding body, independent of the church’s structures, should be allowed to step in?

Whenever I write something about the experience of abuse survivors in the church, I try very hard not to offend, accidentally, sensitivities in this group.  I still, nevertheless, dare to enter these dangerous waters because I know that overall it is important for supporters, such as myself, to try to cross a bridge of understanding.  The supporters of survivors always need to have improved awareness and insight into what has been taken away from them- a courageous group of people who have suffered.

One theme that also comes up frequently in the survivors’ testimonies is that much additional pain has been experienced through post-abuse encounters with professionals.  These are the individuals and institutions whose task it is to resolve, in a variety of ways, the mess that has been caused by an abusive event.  A problem inevitably exists when one or more of those involved have little understanding of the turmoil that is going on inside the survivor.  I have been reflecting on this topic and it seems that many of these professionals, through no fault of their own, do not have the set of skills to make a survivor feel better or even safe. It is hardly surprising that a lawyer whose task it is to question the survivor closely to find out if he/she is telling the truth will unsettle and even re-traumatise the individual.   No blame is to be attached to the lawyers themselves as compensation claims need to follow certain procedures. We might hope for a better reception for survivors from bishops and other church leaders who hear the story of an abuse at first hand.  Some of them, misled by discredited legal advice from 2007, have sought to apply excessive distance and detachment when hearing these stories.  Also, an instinct to preserve the institution rather than care for the sufferer before them has all too often created a stock response.  If the survivor manages to get through and survive all these encounters so that compensation is paid through some negotiated settlement, the problems are still not over. Serious psychological wounds remain.   In an optimal situation we would hope that the right kind of psychotherapeutic counselling would be offered. Finding a psychotherapist who understands both the nature of the abuse and the religious dimension in which it took place is not an easy task.   Issues, like the collapse of trust between the suffering Christian and God, as well with the Church that has betrayed them, need to be tackled.  That is not an easy area to negotiate, especially if the therapist is not a person of faith.

As I thought about this mismatch between survivors and the various professionals that are encountered along the path to recovery, it became obvious why so many survivors in this situation become re-traumatised.  Many highly skilled people are meeting these survivors, but the skills they possess are not those of healers. The adversarial atmosphere of some of the legal processes and the atmosphere of disbelief sometimes projected by those protecting the institution is a tough one. What, I wondered, can be done about this situation?

As I have explained elsewhere on this blog, I am a member of an international organisation known as ICSA (International Cultic Studies Association). This organisation studies cultic matters both academically and from the point of view of best practice in therapy. For three days each year I attend the annual conference either in Europe or the States, listening to the wisdom of many experts in this field of cultic studies. Many of those attending are professionals who help survivors to rebuild their lives after a traumatic experience of being members of a cult. I know that the word itself, ‘cult’, is a contentious one but it is a useful shorthand word.  It describes any group which abuses and manipulates its members in a political or religious context.  While in the group, the members become locked in an unhealthy relationship with a narcissistic leader and surrender much, if not most, of their decision-making capacity to the collective.  Sexual abuse is one possible scenario but more common is the debilitating emotional dependence that is built up over a period.  This makes it very hard to leave. Cult survivors can be thus crippled, emotionally, intellectually and socially in a variety of ways. I see many parallels between such cult survivors and ex-members of spiritually abusive churches.  These include those communities where some individuals experience the devastation of sexual abuse.

In the States where cults and other abusive organisations are far more numerous than in this country, there is, what one could call a cult survivor industry.  By this I mean there exist numerous professionals right across the country whose life’s work is to help those who have emerged from cultic entrapment and religious/spiritual abuse.  They have moved on a long way from the old crude techniques of ‘de-programming’.   This wisdom that now exists across the States in this area has barely penetrated our own country.  The difference between the UK and the US is that while there are many therapists at work here, few of them are familiar at an academic level with the latest thinking in these areas.   What are the qualities of these post-cult therapists in the States? The first thing which is striking, is that many, if not the majority, of therapists working in this field are cult survivors themselves.  Along the path of their own recovery, they have received training in psychotherapy, psychodynamic treatment and any number of psychological techniques.   Importantly they offer to their patients both a thorough understanding of the processes of healing as well as an in-depth appreciation of what it means to be a survivor of a dangerous religious/political group. They also know first-hand what it means to be groomed by an abuser. There are a few places in the UK where this holistic expertise is known.   I am aware of important work and teaching going on at Salford University as well as Manchester Metropolitan University. But, as far as I know, the UK safeguarding institutions, locally and nationally, do not reach out to appropriate the research and academic excellence of these centres.  We desperately need the input of energy and excellence from those in touch with American expertise to help transform what we have to offer to abuse survivors in this country.

Survivors of sexual abuse within a religious setting deserve to encounter, at the earliest moment, the very best in the way of therapeutic advice and support. This post is suggesting that extensive new skills here in Britain and on the other side of the Atlantic should be brought in as soon as possible to help the process.  It is not only the professionals who work in this field who need this input.  The whole church needs to have a better understanding of the way that such things as mind-control, emotional manipulation and grooming operate.  Bringing new training techniques into this area will not just help professionals and abused individuals, but the whole ‘culture’ of the church will begin to understand these matters better.  As we all know, it is often the passivity of the bystanders that causes a great deal of the of the damage to abuse survivors.   Let us hope that a new generation of safeguarding experts will be encouraged to reach out to embrace what is already in existence for the task of healing those who have been damaged and wounded by spiritual and sexual abuse.

My recent blog post on the topic of disaffected Anglicans in Oxford writing to their bishops seems to have struck a chord.  I queried whether the 100+ clergy and laity who signed the letter on behalf of ‘Concerned Anglicans’ spoke for anyone beyond themselves.  This letter could be understood to be the work of a small group which was then circulated to others known to them through social media.  Numerous virtual communities like this exist on the internet.  Many people are happy to add their names to a protest, particularly if it does not involve them in any work themselves.  In short, I believe that this was a small group of politically minded church leaders who then appealed to other members of their internet tribes.  Certainly, there seems little evidence of the protest reaching the lay people in the parishes.  One anonymous lay person wrote to this blog, claiming that no attempt was made by the clergy of his church to consult or even inform the wider congregations of an intention to sign.

My curiosity about the conservative forces at work in the Diocese of Oxford has led me to look more deeply at the signatories to have a better understanding, how these networks work, particularly if they are bypassing, for the most part, parish congregations.  This examination has proved fascinating and as far as I am concerned, it severely weakens any claim that the Diocese of Oxford is facing a grass-root challenge to its leadership or authority.  I have tried to examine the evidence of the signatures, being as objective as I can.

The first concern I have is that there are a cluster of organisations in the Oxford area which are, arguably, not Anglican.  It is unclear to me whether an organisation which is founded, financed and presumably directed sometimes from abroad by a non-Anglican can ever be said to be working in the interests of the Church of England.  Such an organisation may have Anglican staff working for it, but an Anglican director does not, to my mind, necessarily create an Anglican institution.  I noted among the signatures of retired clergy the name of Chris Sugden, who used to head up the Oxford Centre for Mission Studies.  As an Anglican with a general License from the Bishop, he obtained a place on General Synod where he forcefully represented the concerns of REFORM and the interests of conservative evangelicals for many years.  I wonder how many of those who voted for him understood the source of finance which has kept his Centre going for over twenty to thirty years.  It was not money raised in this country.  According to Stephen Bates, the Centre depended largely on American money.  One of the funders is the well-known Howard Ahmanson who has placed millions into trusts to promote ultra-conservative causes, religious and political.  Money from the same source has been linked to the setting up of a subversive group which did much to undermine the Lambeth Conference of 1998. Ahmanson’s concerns are about as far away as one can imagine from main-stream Anglican ones.  He is committed to the ideas of ‘Reconstructionism’.  This, following the ideas of Rushdoony, seeks to rebuild society after the models of Old Testament law.  Reconstructionism would involve the death sentence for gays and adulterers. Ahmanson has always maintained direct contact with the Centre by placing one of his employees to sit on the management team of the Centre.     Meanwhile his foundation will be ensuring that its money furthers any and every group that supports similar rightist conservative Christian causes.

A second organisation appears on the list with considerable financial resources, represented by the signature of its director, Paul Bolton, of the Titus Trust.  This signature is in addition to the five or six other names identified as former campers at Iwerne Minster.  The Titus Trust is a group that currently organizes these camps for public school boys.  The Trust is anxious to locate itself outside the Church of England and preserve a separate legal identity.  Since the emergence of the Smyth scandal, many journalists and others have started to take an interest in this organisation and its history.  All the Trustees officers and campers, past and present are members of the Church of England, so it is hard to think of the organisation as anything other than Anglican.  The published accounts for the charity suggest that it is extremely wealthy, but it is not clear why such large sums are needed or where they come from.  Any organisation which handles large sums of money is naturally going to be regarded with a certain degree of concern.  The legacy of the Smyth scandal and the way that criminal behaviour was buried within the organisation for thirty years is still a continuing unhealed wound for the organisation.  Money, social influence and secrecy are a toxic mix.  Until the organisation comes clean over its past, it will continue to attract conspiracy theories as to whether any of this wealth is being used for ‘political’ purposes within the Church of England. 

The final group on the edge of the Church of England is the so-called Latimer Minster network.  From a reading of its web-site, this seems to be a cluster of church plants, based on one in Beaconsfield.  These operate under a Bishop’s Mission Order (BMO) but their structure is unusual by Anglican standards, if not unique. What makes the Minster different from other such plants is that it was founded by the initiative and enterprise of a single family rather than an existing congregation.  Initially, at any rate, the Orr-Ewing family seem to have drawn on considerable funds from somewhere to get the church under way.  Frog Orr-Ewing and his wife are also networked with various other conservative organisations in and around Oxford such as the Ravi Zacharias Trust and the Oxford Centre for Christian Apologetics.  Money never seems to be a problem for any organisation where the preservation and propagation of strict conservative theology is practised.   As with the Titus Trust and the Oxford Centre for Mission studies, money (from foundations?) seems to flow into such groups without any obvious fund-raising efforts.  The Latimer church plants do not have permanent buildings but the headquarters at Beaconsfield conducts worship, ministry and instruction in a large tent.  The numbers of staff serving the various centres is impressive.  The potential problem of a single family having done so much to bring a new church into being is that they will likely insist in managing every part of its life and stamp not only their personality but also their theology.  One has to wonder how the oversight of bishops will continue to function well in what feels like an independent church set-up.   Even if it retains its recognition from the Oxford diocese as a BMO, it will have to conform to at least some of the disciplines and boundaries that already exist for serving clergy.  Latimer Minister does not seem like a place where, on the face of it, such limits would be easily managed.

I have mentioned three organisations represented on the list of signatures that are around the margins of Anglicanism.  One is a part of the formal Anglican structure while the other two are independent. As conservative groups with strong ties to conservative theology they all share the ability to attract wealth to themselves with apparent ease.  This combination of fundamentalist beliefs, wealth and power is the challenge that the more moderate parts of the Church of England have to face.  As long as conservatives seem able to attract wealth they will always, at one level, appear strong.  But, I would maintain, the moment groups or individuals buy into this fundamentalist gospel, they betray the Anglican genius for tolerance, inclusion and love.  I query whether we should allow Anglicans who serve an organisation outside the oversight of bishops the privilege of sharing the Anglican name.  But it is not up to me to express an opinion as to who is and who is not Anglican.  I merely observe that the church men and women who rage against the eirenic letter of October 2018 from the four Anglican bishops in Oxford seem to have somewhere lost that moderation and equanimity in favour of an intolerance and passion against what they do not like.  Rage, passion and scapegoating are not Anglican qualities. I have said many times that Anglicanism works best when it is able to be inclusive, tolerate difference and promote generosity towards those it disagrees with.  These are not the values of these groups or the signatories of the letter. Oxford bishops are being challenged by groups of Christians who would like to be identified as Anglican.  Just because rage and intolerance somehow attract wealth, that does not make them right.

The recent response to the Ad Clerum of the four bishops in Oxford by 110+ clergy and laity deserves our attention.  The text of the letter, rehearsing now stale points about the bible in conflict with LGTB lifestyles, is of less interest to me than the signatories.  Here we have a list of clergy, mostly male self-identified evangelicals, and laity who want us to believe that they somehow speak for a large number of church people in rejecting the bishops’ mild, even eirenic letter from last October.  This called for listening and respect for the views of others in this difficult area of moral discussion.  Others have picked up the challenge of looking at these arguments.  Here I am concerned to think about what might be going on when 110+ individuals sign such a document.

In the Diocese of Oxford, there are apparently 2.5 million in the population and 55,000 who count themselves as members of the national church.  The 110+ signatories thus represent 0.02 % of the church-goers in the area.  Someone might immediately object that vicars and other Christian leaders represent their members.  As most of those who signed are such leaders, do they not speak for many others?

Before I pick up this reasonable claim and respond to it, I want to think for a moment about how the process works in getting lots of people to sign such a letter.  Today, thanks to the internet, the task is not difficult.  An email is sent round an existing network of contacts to gather signatures.  Such a network can be thought of as a kind of power circuit.  It allows an individual to tap into and connect with friends or allies instantly and put into effect the joint act of signing a letter.  Each individual within the circuit has helped to make something powerful happen. One of the main networks in operation in this case is clearly stated.  Many, if not most, of the signatories are members of the Oxford Diocesan Evangelical Fellowship.  As a group they would have a common view on the Ad Clerum letter and no doubt it was discussed at a meeting.  But there are also in evidence other circuits of power or networks that the list reveals when examined closely.  A check through Crockfords Directory shows us how many signatories knew each other at theological college, particularly Wycliffe Hall and Ridley Hall.  Then there is a further circuit which networks at least five, possibly more, of the names -the Iwerne Minster connection.  To belong to this network, one is a former attender of the prestigious conservative Christian camps in Dorset.  Here boys from the best public schools were nurtured in a strongly conservative version of the Christian faith.  The vision of the Iwerne founder (popularly known as Bash) was for his ex-campers to take power and influence in society as Christian leaders.  The signing of this letter by at least five of these Iwerne graduates can be seen to be one small contribution to further this vision.  For Bash followers, the Calvinist version of conservative Christianity needs to be promoted within the church at every opportunity.  That expression of Christianity is, for many of us, unattractive and even repugnant.

My examination of the names that appear on the list of signatures tells me that we are mainly dealing with a power that comes from horizontal networking rather than power rooted in the ground.  To continue the metaphor, it is not a ground up form of energy. We do not see, for example, any attempt by PCCs to have ‘no-confidence’ votes in the bishops. The signatures are thus to be regarded the view of single individuals and not expressing the thinking of corporate entities.   It is true that some churches, such as St Aldate’s and St Ebbe’s in Oxford, seem to have persuaded the vast majority of their full-time staff to sign.  But it is still hard to know how such highly eclectic churches could ever produce a statement which was a genuine reflection of the congregation’s mind on the topic.  Students are in such a state of constant flux, that a poll of this kind would be meaningless.  When we look at a normal parish like the Chesham Team where three members of staff signed, there were two who did not.  What does that suggest to us about the ‘mind’ of the congregation?  Other signatories, a significant number, give their local parish next to their name, when their attachment is fairly tenuous.  We may note also that one bastion of conservative orthodoxy like Wycliffe Hall is divided.  The Principal himself did not sign while three members of staff did.  It is also striking to see that two student members of the college were attached to the lay signatories.   What did the other students think about the letter?  Were they consulted?

My degree of cynicism over the question as to whether a Vicar ever represents his congregation in an exercise of this kind also comes from slight personal knowledge of two parishes in the Oxford diocese, the leaders of which both appear among the signatures.  Each has now, during the past twenty years, come to be overseen by conservative clergy.  I knew the parish of Burford and the nuns who lived there before it became a bastion of conservative Anglicanism at the end of the 90s.  A Vicar was appointed in 1998 who had served as a curate at St Helen’s Bishopsgate.  The middle of the road traditions at Burford were fairly quickly turned upside down.   I was also at one time familiar with the church at Wargrave.  I know nothing of the present Vicar, but this parish used to be a centre of traditional Anglicanism under its former Vicar, John Ratings.  The current Vicar has been identified to me as a former Iwerne camper and I imagine things are now radically different in that parish.

My final observation about the Oxford scene is to note that there are a number of highly attractive parishes now occupied by conservative clergy who have signed this letter.  Places like Henley on Thames, Burford, Purley, Eynsham and Wargrave all seem to have Vicars or clergy who come from extremely conservative but also, in some cases, privileged backgrounds.  Were any of these parishes formerly in the gift of conservative patrons or are there other forces at work here?  Among the signatories there is more than a hint of upper-middle class entitlement.  There are mysterious references, unknown to Crockford, to an institution called Latimer Minster located in Beaconsfield.  In the absence of further information, one is forced to suggest that this is one more independent institution designed to subtly undermine the national church, using privilege and wealth to do so.

My scrutiny of the list of those who signed this letter suggests that it is far from being clergy exercising protest on behalf of the lay people they serve.  Rather it is clergy, using their existing networks of discontent, in an effort to unsettle the bishops and force them to bend to their will.  To the four bishops, I say, hang in there.  There is no evidence of lay unrest in the diocese.  What you have is a group of clergy, many of them of them products of public schools, who have bought into the ideas of REFORM and its Calvinist right wing ideas.   These need to be resisted to allow the inclusive and generous spirit of the Church of England to thrive for the future.

Most of us have had to experience occasions when another person has, in the course of an argument, manipulated our words through some verbal trickery.  Here I want to mention just two of these techniques.  The first is the false dichotomy.  This is a way of arguing that that says because statement A is provably wrong, it follows that statement B must be correct.  The person who argues in this way has probably been coached along certain tramlines of thinking.  It is an argument used by proponents of creationism against Darwinism.  Because there are apparent gaps in the fossil record, it follows, according to these apologists, that the Genesis account of creation needs to be considered seriously as a scientific account of the origins of the Universe.  Ideas of paradox or lateral thinking are probably not part of the mental processing of those who argue in this way.  The alternative to statement A might be statement C or perhaps there needs to be a complete reworking of the argument.

Another form of verbal trickery is a failure to see that many words or ideas exist along a continuum of meaning.  A single word or idea can mean a variety of things.  It will depend on where along a continuum of meaning the person using the word wishes to place it.  To take one word as an example, one that comes up from time to time on these posts, let us consider the term evangelical. I hesitate, usually, to use this word because it is one of these continuum words. The meanings at each end of the continuum will probably have very little in common with one another.  The word could be used to describe the beliefs of a group of racist survivalists in the States who believe that God’s law supports the supremacy of the white race and that we have no obligation to care about anyone except our ‘tribe’.  Those who are poor are believed to be under some kind of curse from God.   At the other end of the continuum of meaning we may find evangelical individuals who owe their distinct spirituality and outlook to a biblically informed upbringing.  That earlier nurture now may co-exist with other traditions of Christian prayer and theology which have been encountered along the path of their Christian journey.  It is said of the bishops of the Church of England that the majority today are evangelical. If we think of our continuum to be a line going from left to right, these bishops belong in a very different place from the racist survivalists.  They would be found well to the left of centre. They have virtually nothing in common with the extremities of the racially intolerant and those who wish to introduce the death sentence for homosexuals and adulterers.  The only thing they share is this word evangelical.

In emphasising my contention that we need to be careful how we use words, I would like to draw attention to a recent interview with Jerry Falwell Jr. which appeared in the Washington Post. In many ways Falwell can be said to represent the political/religious Right in America.  This group has decided, for good and ill, to throw their lot in with President Trump. The interview is interesting because it helps us to see what many self-identified American evangelicals are thinking. As a noted Christian leader and the president of a Christian university, Falwell is able to use words effectively.   Many of us are curious, to put it mildly, to see how Christian evangelical arguments are marshalled to support such an outrageous president.

I am not expecting anyone reading this post to agree with anything that Falwell says.  Although he claims to be an evangelical and a Christian, it does not follow that others cannot use these words of self-description while utterly rejecting Falwell’s sentiments.   Both words need to be reclaimed by others who occupy a markedly different place on the continuum.   Few evangelical Christians would want to join Falwell in the place he has marked out for himself and many others who think like him.

The first, extraordinary some would say, claim made by Falwell is that the commands of Jesus to love and respect others has nothing to do with political life. Jesus, according to Falwell, was only interested in a heavenly kingdom. The earthly kingdom is given over to Caesar. It is not clear what Falwell is actually referring to when he talks about the heavenly kingdom. Is it a private inner world where Christians live beyond any political or social responsibility? But whatever it does means it allows Falwell and other Christian Right leaders to exonerate Trump from his indifference to the suffering of the needy and the poor.

 Falwell then declares himself to be proud of the values of the American people as he sees them. He speaks about ‘free enterprise, freedom, ingenuity, entrepreneurialism and wealth’. While one can see that a political case can be made for such values, they become decidedly less wholesome when combined with an indifference towards the poor.  According to Falwell, ‘a poor person never gave anyone a job; a poor person never gave anybody charity, not of any real volume’. Such words about the poor are at best patronising; at worst they demonstrate an utter contempt for fellow human beings.

It is hard to imagine anyone calling themselves a Christian evangelical in the UK wanting to be identified with the political and religious attitudes of Jerry Falwell Jr.  It will be interesting to see whether the students at his Liberty University will eventually see through this extraordinary uncompassionate attitude towards a huge swathe of the American population and demand a change. The approach that also says, ‘I support Trump, right or wrong’, is hopefully an attitude that will not remain unchallenged over the next few months. Although Trump claims that the Christian faith is an inspiration for his presidency, his despising attitude towards many of his fellow citizens is a reality and something that must be fraying the nerves of many of his current supporters.

Jerry Falwell is proud to call himself an evangelical. But, so that the word does not become debased by this association, we must assert that Falwell’s self-description belongs at one end of the continuum of meaning for the word. We must not allow him or anyone else to thoroughly degrade and debase a perfectly respectable concept.  With Falwell and other members of the Trumpian Right, the word evangelical is clearly being dishonoured.   Even though I do not in any sense regard myself as an evangelical, I still want to respect those who also claim this label as part of their self-identification. They possess, in using this word, an honourable spirituality as well as being followers of a distinguished form of Christian theology.  Nothing that can be said by the far Right in the States can take away their right to be honoured by other Christians.

In a piece that I recently wrote about denominations, I suggested that there were powerful forces, especially in the States, that are seeking to destroy all large church groupings in favour of small independent ‘bible’ churches.  The Episcopal (Anglican) Church in America has suffered its own confrontations with factions and small groups seeking to persuade congregations that its central body has strayed from the Bible in favour of heretical beliefs.  Over a period of years, such a church congregation may be totally undermined so that eventually it declares itself to be independent of the denominational structure provided by a national body or a local diocese.  Such an independent Episcopal congregation, if it wishes to retain its Anglican identity, will often seek the oversight of a foreign province such as Nigeria or Rwanda.  In practice it has become an independent congregation.  Nevertheless, it wants to pay lip-service to the idea of being under the discipline of African bishops and some of the historic traditions of Anglicanism.

Recently I have acquired a book with the title Steeplejacking.  The word is one used in the States to describe the process by which small groups of conservative Christians engineer the take-over of local congregations.  Having succeeded in gaining power, they then force the congregation to cut ties with the sponsoring denomination.  It would appear from the book that this process is not uncommon.  The book, by Sheldon Calver and John Dorhauer, presents the issue from the perspective of one denomination, the United Churches of Christ (UCC).  Both the authors have watched various congregations within this denomination being ‘steeplejacked’.  Each was then persuaded to become independent under the control of a group of powerful lay people or a minister with a strongly conservative agenda. 

The book describes in some detail the processes which allow two or three motivated newcomers with an agenda to take over the reins of an unprepared congregation.  Sometimes the minister at such a church is weak or ineffective.  Alternatively, he lacks the theological understanding to see what is going on.  Sometimes it is the minster himself actively managing the break-away process.  In most denominations on both sides of the Atlantic there are legal and financial ties which bind the local body with the national one. Break-away churches may have to factor in the loss of pension rights for a departing minister and expensive court cases to determine ownership of property.  The potential reward in gaining possession of valuable church plant through independence evidently makes these battles worth fighting.

What is the motivation for seeking to destroy denominational structures of the churches of America?   The simple and probably wildly over-simplified answer is that independent congregations are more easily integrated into the values of the political/religious Right.  The right wing political/religious juggernaut that is in the ascendant today in America is first of all deeply immersed in the idea of spiritual warfare against ‘secularism’.  This is another word to describe the dominant liberal culture of America, which is politically represented by the Democrats.  At the same time, it is appealing to a fantasy golden age of male white dominance.  This is alluded to in Trump’s slogan, ‘Make America great again’.  The use of the word ‘again’ indicates that those who identify with this slogan are active believers in the idea that there was once a golden age of secure Christian morality and stability in America.  Golden age beliefs are generally products of nostalgia rather than accurate historical memory.  Many people do, in fact, buy into the idea of rebuilding a 1950s Christian society.  The reality of living in that period actually favoured only one group – white men.  Women and people of colour were treated poorly, if not abusively.  Women were kept in their place in the home, subservient to the wishes and dominance of men.  Many of the old-fashioned moral values being promoted today by the religious Right are those that in fact victimise women.  The right of women to have an opinion about such things as birth control or abortion barely existed.  Gay relationships were then hidden.  Even now they are considered abhorrent because they subvert the nostalgic picture of a Christian home with its clearly defined hierarchy.  One person, the man, was in charge of all that happens in the family.  Much of the energy which drives churches out of denominational structures is the energy that simply hates the new realities of modern democratic liberal ideals.  These promote inclusiveness, justice and tolerance.  How much easier to promote a fantasy return to the past?  Such a regression fantasy lies behind most fundamentalist movements all over the world.

The book Steeplejacking lists the techniques used to gain dominance in congregations so that under the guidance of the conservative cabal, the congregation can vote themselves into independence and thus ownership of the church, theologically and legally.  Typically, the overseeing denomination is caricatured as taking a position contrary to biblical ‘values’.  In the case of the UCC, a favourable vote on ‘gay marriage’ in 2006 was a signal to conservatives that the denominational leadership was taking a position where the bible was being betrayed.  This was represented as being on a slippery slope to heresy and abandonment of the faith itself.  Such distortions were fairly easy to sell when adherence to such ‘facts’ is presented as a salvation issue.  Lay people often find it difficult to see through the distortions and propaganda of the steeplejackers.   Also, a minister who is unsure of his theology, or is too demoralised to face up to the virulence of his attackers, sometimes simply abandons the field to the plotters.  They are then able to get themselves voted on to committees and generally subvert the congregation on its way to independence.

The parallels between the situation in the American UCC and the Church of England are not particularly close.  Few clergy in the Church of England are interested in leaving their denomination, not least because they would stand to lose pension rights.  It also is impossible to move a parish outside the legally binding structures of the Church of England.  But even if most Anglican clergy stay loyal to their bishops and church in a formal way, some of them oversee disloyal activity and promote a variety of intolerant stances within their congregations.  As a parish priest I have often had to stand up to small ‘factions’ when it was suggested that some activity or teaching was not ‘biblical.  I have had to point out that the Church of England takes more than one view on a variety of topics.  This is not a teaching that is found in conservative congregations.  Far too many Christians are being taught that truth is a single entity.  You either have it or you don’t.  It is thus hard for these Christians who are taught in this way to feel comfortable in a place where difference of opinion is not only tolerated but even encouraged.  Many of them want to hear only from a minister who preaches a single perspective, based on this ‘biblical’ perspective.  Preaching from the bible should of course produce a single consistent message.  But we know that it does not in fact happen.  There are as many bible ‘truths’ as there are preachers to disagree about what they are. The reason for the current popularity of the independent congregation is that there only one voice is heard, that of the minster.   Hearing a single opinion creates a kind of semblance of unity.  But this can only exist when all other opinions and perspectives have been removed from the arena.  In a political context we call this a one-party state or fascism.

Steeplejacking may not exist in a formal sense in Britain but the dynamics that enable it are alive and well.  Telling a congregation that another congregation or even an entire denomination has been taken over by Satan, because it does not agree with your current moral stance, is a form of steeplejacking.  Allowing any church to become a cocoon of like-minded believers who are actively discouraged from asking questions or being allowed to disagree with ministers, is an expression of the Christian culture that steeplejackers want to promote.  Perhaps those of us who find the concept of an inerrant bible problematic should be more vocal in our challenge to this kind of thinking.  The impulse to take over churches in the name of ‘truth’ will never be a recipe for unity and harmony.  What it does create is division in an unseemly and fractious struggle for power.  That does not look or seem to be very Christian or able to promote the teaching and spirit of Jesus.