by Savitri Hensman, author of “Sexuality, Struggle and Saintliness” and LGBTI+ equality activist, writer and involvement coordinator
The Church of England is facing a storm of unwelcome publicity, with several senior clergy in the headlines, against a backdrop of internal tensions over various issues. This led to the resignation of Bishop of Liverpool John Perumbalath, after Channel 4 aired a concerning, if sometimes inaccurate, news item on allegations of sexual impropriety by two women against him; allegations which he denies.
One of these women has identified herself as the Bishop of Warrington, Bev Mason. Stephen Cottrell, Archbishop of York, was accused of covering this up and there have also been renewed calls by some for him to resign, though others believe he did what he could, within the limits of his powers, to try to get concerns addressed. However church rules, enforced by a judge, meant that Bishop Bev’s claim could not be properly dealt with because it was deemed out of time. So neither she nor Bishop John was able to have their take on what took place properly considered, an unsatisfactory situation for both.
The Charity Commission weighed in, reminding Church of England leaders of their safeguarding responsibilities and writing to General Synod members and bishops, in the run-up to a February session which is likely to be tense. Other news reports claim that a handful of retired clergy now deemed no or low risk still have permission to officiate at services despite safeguarding plans which restrict their contact with children. This ties in with earlier dismay that, in the diocese of Chelmsford, where Stephen Cottrell had been bishop, a priest barred from being alone with children, David Tudor, had nevertheless been allowed to remain as an area dean and made an honorary canon. After another abuse report he was removed, yet this also highlighted the role of professional advice which earlier warned against removing his titles.
This has been an extremely difficult time for those most affected, as well as others for whom one or another aspect has resonated painfully with their own experience. It has also been saddening and sometimes bewildering for many in the Diocese of Liverpool and others of us who know one or more of the people concerned. I am hesitant to add to this by writing on this topic, which may leave people with different perspectives, but whom I care about, feeling hurt. Less importantly, I am also aware that, by taking a different view from that of Stephen Cottrell’s fiercest critics, a little of the anger directed towards him may be turned against me, which is not something I relish; yet I am critical of the Church for what many others apparently find acceptable.
Urgent action is needed. Hopefully a truly independent safeguarding system, with suitably skilled staff and adequately resourced, will be put in place without further delay. I fear however that some of what is going on is more hindering than helping to further safety and justice. And this matters too much for me to stay silent. Even if I am wrong on some issues, I hope that more discussion may strengthen moves to improve matters.
It is frequently pointed out that there are positive examples in wider society from which churches can learn. However it is worth learning too from failings in how scandals in the NHS, social services and other institutions have been dealt with at times. Managers and professionals who did not prevent these have been publicly shamed and sometimes punished, only for similar problems to surface elsewhere, repeatedly. Sometimes these have been linked with gaps in coordination or competing goals across organisations and systems (health, adult and children’s social services, criminal justice and so forth).
The desire for accountability is understandable. Yet the focus on individuals can mean that wider risk factors are brushed aside. In social and health care, there are indeed instances when appallingly abusive or neglectful practice goes unchallenged, or subtler bias causes widespread harm. But understaffing, unintended consequences of national policy and so forth can continue to do damage and maybe worsen the situation, as morale may drop still lower, with more staff quitting or practising so defensively that it affects patient or client wellbeing. There may be opportunities for learning here too.
I am not a survivor myself. But abuse has profoundly affected people I care for, or have cared for, with a major impact on my own life. And as a volunteer and sometimes trustee, I have been active for many years in seeking to counter gender-based violence and support survivors. I have also been involved, for over four decades, in striving for racial justice and LGBTQ+ inclusion in churches and society, locally and nationally, and have written extensively on equalities and human rights. In other settings too I have had to grapple with the complexities of trying to change systems and cultures. I am a layperson and the closest I have come to high office in the Church of England is serving on deanery synod in my borough.
Amidst widespread anger and distress among church members, it can be tempting to assume that leaders should always have been able to prevent or detect problems sooner. They may be blamed for being too soft on those who seem evidently guilty – or, if those accused are heroes or friends of ours, being too hard on the obviously innocent. I have done this myself. Yet recognising the messiness of reality, including limits in knowledge, different perceptions and human imperfection in ourselves and others, may be crucially important in moving forward together.
Ongoing concerns amidst a backdrop of conflict and uncertainty
In parishes, chaplaincies and higher levels across the Church of England, numerous people seek to put their Christian faith into practice, while recognising their fallibility and need for God’s mercy. The hungry are fed, the sick and lonely visited, the good news of divine love and hope through Jesus’ life, death and resurrection is shared in word and deed. At the same time, churches are often better at worship and caring than at exploring what God’s realm on earth of justice and peace might look like, where this includes confronting inequity, and insensitivity and cruelty may take a toll, as in any other community or movement.
Historically, the Church’s track record in dealing with sexual abuse has been abysmal; and, while other institutions with similarly shameful pasts have moved faster to strengthen systems, improvements here have taken longer. Intensive work has gone on to strengthen safeguarding in recent years, including required training for numerous laypeople with various responsibilities, as well as for clergy.
Yet dealing with cases of historical abuse has been erratic and, even now, the quality of responses to allegations and concerns is variable. The complexities were highlighted by the sorry saga at Christ Church Oxford, in which a dean and vice dean on different sides of a controversy over alleged sexual harassment faced long and stressful proceedings. Lack of transparency and confidence in safeguarding systems and concerns about the clergy disciplinary system were spotlighted. Proportionality was also an issue, though even ‘minor’ breaches can have a serious impact. In a flawed system, those alleging abuse or sexual misconduct, those against whom allegations are made and those in positions of responsibility who act, or fail to do so, can all pay a heavy price; though handling such concerns even in better-designed processes in other organisations can be harrowing and ultimately unsatisfactory.
Meanwhile, from the frontline to the most senior levels, the Church has struggled with failing attendance and overstretched finances, heightening tension over a range of issues. Perhaps the most contentious in recent years is Living in Love and Faith, as painfully slow progress has been made towards allowing clergy and congregations to celebrate, and benefit from, same-sex partnerships and marriage. Despite widespread support among British Anglicans, made clear repeatedly in polls, and strong theological arguments for change, there has been limited movement towards allowing those in favour of affirming loving commitment, as well as those against, to act in line with conscience.
Despite the archbishops themselves being in favour of such change, they have often not made the case clearly and strongly enough, in my view, nor have they pointed out the costly concessions already made by those seeking greater inclusion. This has left some campaigners for change very angry. Those strongly opposed continue to call for schism, furious that even modest progress has been made – though other ‘conservatives’ have been trying to find a constructive way forward. So senior figures may face anger, even hostility, from opposite directions.
Regardless of their position on LLF, many people are united by genuine commitment to improving safeguarding but, in this volatile situation, actual or perceived blunders by senior clergy are more likely to be seized on as evidence they should be removed. And pragmatically, especially for those who would like to halt or reverse greater LGBT+ inclusion, gaining more seats and influence in the House of Bishops is seen as important to protect the Church from error.
Along with concerns about an erratic and sometimes untrustworthy system for responding to safeguarding concerns, and the system for dealing with alleged misconduct by clergy or others in senior positions (or supporting them if struggling), questions have been raised about other relevant systems. Even in secular settings, professional advice-givers can wield considerable power – one of the reasons why so much attention has been paid, for instance, to Crown Prosecution Service handling of cases of alleged harassment and abuse. It is important to secure consistently skilful specialist advice and avoid conflict of interest, so that England-wide and ecclesiastical law and charity duties including responsible financial stewardship are complied with, alongside keeping people safe and doing justice.
It should also perhaps be noted that, outside as well as in faith organisations, the ‘right’ outcomes cannot be guaranteed even if suitably skilled people apply the right procedures. Some have interpreted the findings of the Makin review as implying that Church leaders are responsible if, after sharing available evidence with the police and other bodies, these bodies do not take firm action against the alleged wrongdoer. If, and when, safeguarding is handled independently (hopefully soon), and if the lead body and its staff also face such expectations and cannot fulfil these, further problems may arise.
Meanwhile, while journalists have played an extremely valuable role in bringing instances of abuse to light and driving change in churches, media attention remains something of a blunt instrument. A real passion for justice, empathy or lack of it towards interviewees, combined with the need to present stories in easy-to-grasp ways; all these can lead to oversimplification and occasionally misinformation. Reporting on what happened in Liverpool, and the responses which followed, has highlighted serious flaws, including lack of a clear process for discreetly delaying public ministry while concerns are methodically, while promptly, investigated. Even when inaccuracies in what was broadcast are corrected – and claims about bullying in the process have now been contested by several present – these receive less attention than the original assertions.
The dispute about what happened during the Crown Nominations Commission’s selection process also reminds us that people may perceive the same events differently. I have no inside knowledge about what happened. But CNC processes for other dioceses have sometimes reached an impasse if a candidate is LGBT+-affirming. If, say, certain members regarded John Perumbalath as unsuitable for that reason along with others, and the archbishop encouraged people present to make a decision rather than yet again failing to appoint anyone, some might have felt unduly pressured.
Also, concerningly, the lead journalist on the Channel 4 news story seemed to brush aside the fact that the first series of alleged incidents, in places where others too were present, were reported to and investigated by both Church safeguarding officials and the police, neither of whom verified these. There are problems if allegations are taken as proof of guilt, with the outcomes of any investigation ignored and a cover-up assumed.
Unhelpful cultures
Church of England culture – or perhaps ‘cultures’ – is (or are) a further complicating factor. Tradition and ties with the state, in particular, may foster an almost feudal culture, in which bishops may be ‘lords’ and different dioceses treated almost as separate entities. There are also echoes of a patriarchal model of a bishop as a father figure who benignly yet authoritatively governs a household. Even when bishops have tried to break this mould – and it can be flattering to be treated in this way – some may project such longings on to leaders, only to feel betrayed if these leaders turn out to have feet of clay.
Managerialist culture, with accompanying structures and targets, has also had a huge impact in recent years, despite better-run businesses largely recognising its imperfections in improving ‘efficiency’. Populist culture is now widespread in wider society, in which a handful of influential people who may be portrayed as opponents of the ‘elite’ (whatever their own backgrounds and positions) may wield considerable power of various kinds. I think it is also on the rise in the Church. It is absolutely right that people with a persuasive case should be heard, yet in situations of mistrust and insecurity, simple solutions may be favoured and understandable indignation channelled in not always helpful ways.
While there may be an unspoken assumption that a top cleric should be a wise and powerful figure, like an idealised liege-lord, head of the family or senior executive, or alternatively a symbol of a rotten old order who must be toppled to bring about change, in reality they may be sometimes muddled or wrong, just like the rest of us, and facing numerous constraints on the use of their powers.
Moving forward
I hope that Stephen Cottrell, despite mistakes, remains in place, while the focus is on major systemic and cultural change. We also need to celebrate and build on instances when the Church, at various levels, has lived out the Gospel. As well as introducing a truly independent safeguarding system, I suggest undertaking root cause analyses of failings; and, in identifying possible improvements in connected systems too, trying to anticipate and mitigate unintended negative consequences, while being ready also to identify and respond to unanticipated harms. Systemic change is seldom straightforward. Far greater openness, and willingness to involve church members at grassroots level in frank discussions about what should be done about various difficulties, may be helpful.
To do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with God (Micah 6.8), and seek to be merciful while hungering and thirsting for righteousness (Matthew 5.6-7), are harder than they might seem. To gloss over abuse and other serious injustice, or neglect to defend those at risk, ultimately fails to show mercy not just to victims but also those at fault, who are called to do better, like all of us when we fail to live out our calling. Yet in seeking together to tackle what has gone wrong, we should be aware that what follows may not work entirely as expected, and that there will be risks of further hurt of various kinds. No human-made system is failsafe.
The process of healing and restoration of right relationships in the Church will not be easy, but making a start now is important. Recent events have highlighted that there is much to be done.
Any thoughts?