ViaMedia

Category: Mental Health

  • Archbishops’ Council: Reset Required

    by Gilo, co-editor with Janet Fife of the book Letters to a Broken Church, and also co-creator of the House of Survivors website. He also writes post-modern hymns.

    This past week saw the Deputy Safeguarding Lead Bishop say on social media: “Today the church is less accountable. To remove, at short notice, the strongest independent voices holding the CofE to account for its safeguarding failings makes us look resistant to robust scrutiny and challenge – which, of course, we are.” And in a BBC interview shortly afterwards: “I don’t entirely trust the church, even though I’m a key part of it.”

    Bishop Julie Conalty is correct in her assessment, and sadly one of the few bishops with sufficient spine to say it publicly.

    Many questions arise from these comments. Did Archbishops’ Council alert DSAs (Diocesan Safeguarding Advisors) prior to the sacking of the ISB statement? Were DSAs across dioceses given any time to prepare for victims’ and survivors’ confusion and distress? I know one wasn’t. I alerted him about forty minutes prior to the release of the statement. Steve Reeves and Jasvinder Sanghera had been given less than an hour’s notice before the statement went up on the Church of England website. They urged Archbishops’ Council for time to prepare the survivors in their care; they urged the Council to think about possible impact. They were told no. So in desperation they reached out to alert a few people quickly so we could contact several others in very vulnerable situations as quickly as possible. I rang and gently told one survivor what was coming as I knew that it could be devastating for them to find out suddenly in this impersonal way by the Archbishops’ Council. Several DSAs later commented that they were appalled that *good* safeguarding had to happen in this unofficial and ad hoc way and that it was necessary for the two ISB members to act fast in the face of such recklessness by the national Church.

    The heads of this Council are the two Archbishops. Why are they not ‘stepped back’? Could they face clergy disciplinary measures? They and others on the Council have presumably done C4 safeguarding training and Senior Leadership training and should be fully aware of the danger of their reckless conduct. They would know that many survivors speak of the ‘re-abuse’ we experience from the Church’s own treatment of our disclosures.  Such misconduct would not be ignored if done by clergy without mitres. Will the Lead Bishop, Joanne Grenfell, act? Will Alexander Kubeyinje, Director of the National Safeguarding Team, act? But an NST Director who is reported to have told the Survivor Advocate that she is “too survivor focussed” is unlikely to see through a lens other than the matrix provided by his controllers. And a Lead Bishop who has remained largely invisible and inaudible since appointment is unlikely to tackle misconduct by her seniors.

    I met with a senior figure this week, a bishop and his team, to ask for help in preparing CDMs for the heads of Archbishops’ Council on the following grounds

    • disregarding safeguarding policy
    • jettisoned lessons learnt
    • putting comms strategy above safeguarding
    • disregard for survivors in acute situations
    • putting back the work of DSAs, and safeguarding across the wider Church, by years
    • ignoring basic Christian principles, or perhaps ‘conduct unbecoming of a clerk in Holy Orders’

    It is bewildering how a group of very senior people who have the running of the Church in their hands could agree to go along with such unsafe practice. The placing of strategy above the needs of survivors in acute and precarious situations is particularly egregious.

    Why are those in governance willing to destroy what is left of their Church’s credibility in this way, and what is the motivation? Who in the Council ‘advises’ (or instructs) them to jettison ‘lessons’ they tell us in their many published ‘Lessons Learnt Reviews’ have been learned, and to abandon good practice? Two figures in public office have overarching power and prestige in this institution. This affords them the freedom to turn to this advisor and say clearly “No, you are tearing a hole in the hull of this Church’s credibility and your direction in these matters makes the Church look delinquent.” In this disastrous sphere of the Church’s life where so much coverup and corruption from the past still needs facing, where there has been so much complicity with unethical activity, and where much honesty and healing is required – how much more credibility capital are the Archbishops willing to burn protecting disastrous advice?

    Everyone knows the answer to the question ‘Who’, but nobody really understands the ‘Why’. The Secretary General to the Archbishops’ Council is also the Secretary General to the Church of England. Why is one éminence grise allowed to wield such enormous and unaccountable power through a web of tetrarchies across the national Church? Why is such obvious systemic harm to the very soul of the Church allowed to continue? Why is cruelty permitted to permeate through the safeguarding structures of the national Church? There is an evolved culture of ‘learned helplessness’ ° across the National Safeguarding Team (NST) and all the National Church Institutions (NCIs) which manifests itself in a polite but ruthless pillar-to-post systemic cruelty. Ask those survivors in urgent situations of crisis where repair and financial aid is needed not next month or next year, but last week. These survivors know this culture horribly well. They are the recipients of its ongoing harm.

    The scandal of Archbishops’ Council’s misconduct last week is as serious as it gets at the top of the Church. There must now be questions in Parliament to the Second Church Estates Commissioner from MPs about the misgovernance of the Church of England. Synod members must find a way to bring real and shining anger to the orchestrated State Flower Festival with its absurd safeguarding presentation that the forthcoming Synod appears to be set to experience. Not mere exasperation or frustration… but real anger and a sense of revulsion.

    Both Archbishops must own their misconduct. There must be serious accountability. And serious repentance.

     

     

    ° indebted to Carl Chambers for the phrase ‘learned helplessness’

     

  • An Open Letter to Bishops – Your Pastoral Charge

    by Jayne Ozanne, Founder of Via Media, Member of General Synod and Director of the Ozanne Foundation 

    ‘Again, Jesus said, “Simon son of John do you love me?” He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said: “Take care of my sheep”’ (John 21:16)

    Jesus had just asked Peter a second time “do you truly love me”.  Peter’s answer was the same.  Jesus’ response wasn’t.

    The charge Jesus left Peter, the ‘rock’ on whom Jesus said “I will build My church” (Matt 16:18), was first and foremost a pastoral one.  It was not a doctrinal one, or a call for unity but quite simply a charge to care for His people.  All of them.  Each and every of one of us – those that we know, those that we don’t know.  Those who are like us, those who aren’t.  Those we agree with, those that we don’t.  Everyone.  That is, unless you think there are any sheep that Jesus is not concerned about?

    ‘Take care of my sheep.’

    It really is that simple.  A pastoral charge given by the Good Shepherd to the person who would go on to start His Church.  Peter is called to look after Jesus’ sheep and safeguard them from harm.  I would therefore suggest that it is this that you are called to – above all else! Taking care of people.

    But I fear that many appear to have forgotten this of late – and instead have got side-lined into prioritising arguments around doctrine, around ‘unity’ and misplaced notions of collegiality.

    ‘Take care of my sheep.’

    It may seem obvious to say, but a shepherd should never knowingly harm his or her sheep – they should never take a decision that they know will leave some vulnerable.  Indeed, quite the opposite – a ‘good’ shepherd will always prioritise protecting those in their care, particularly the most vulnerable, from forces that are seeking to kill and destroy.

    So why then, bishops, are you so determined to sacrifice certain sheep on the altar of expediency?  Why are you protecting some and not others?  I for one know that you have been presented with reams of evidence of the harm that LGBT+ people have experienced in their churches, you have heard countless testimonies of how so many have suffered because of the religious teaching they have been subjected to, you have been made aware of the numerous research studies (including one from the UK government itself) stating the mental health outcomes of young LGBT+ people growing up under conservative teaching.  Goodness, even the UN are now commissioning a report to document the harm done by religious teaching on the LGBT+ community.  But for some reason you just don’t seem to want to engage with these facts or prioritise them.  So why, please, is that?

    I’d love to know just how much time you have dedicated to listening to the impact of church teaching on LGBT+ people’s lives?  Indeed, how many LGBT+ people have you met who have attempted to take their lives (for there are far too many of them, but they may not feel able to talk to you about it – it would be interesting to reflect on why)?  Can you honestly say you’ve given as much time to listening to LGBT+ people as you have done to arguing about scripture?

    Cutting to the chase.  Did you listen to LGBT+ people yourself, or did you try and create a short cut because of time pressures?  Perhaps you chose just to read the executive summary instead?

    ‘Take care of my sheep.’

    Maybe you don’t think this is that important after all.  Or maybe you don’t really believe that LGBT+ people are getting hurt by current church teaching?  I mean, it would be difficult to hear that we have been causing so many people such deep distress, causing young people to hate themselves, leaving them in impossible situations at far too young an age, where they have had to choose between hiding who they are and being accepted and welcomed by their families and friends.

    Or perhaps you don’t want to believe these truths because, let’s face it, it’s all a bit awkward?

    Or is it because you just don’t care about the harm your teaching is inflicting on certain sheep?

    ‘Take care of my sheep’

    Not just some of them.  Not just the religious ones.  Not just the good ones.  Not just the ones that conform to your understanding of what a sheep should look like.

    As you may know, I had the great honour of meeting Pope Francis just over 3 years ago.  I was told I would have about 45 seconds to say something and was advised to choose my words carefully.

    I wonder what you’d choose to say in my position?  As it happens, I spent many sleepless hours the night before trying to discern what I should say.  Here was a golden opportunity, and I wanted to make the most of it.  In the end I decided it would be best to reach out to his pastor’s heart – for that, ultimately, is what he is.  Christ’s pastor.

    So, the next morning after introducing myself I held his hand, looked him in the eyes and said:

    “Your Holiness, I grew up being told by the church that I would never be a wife, a mother or a grandmother – and sadly this nearly killed me.  This is my story (giving him my book) and this is some research showing that there are thousands more just like me.”

    Before I could say anything else he grabbed both my hands, lowered his head and in what many witnessed as a holy moment, whispered softly “please pray for me – as I will pray for you”.

    Two days later I was invited back to the Vatican to hear him castigate leaders who spoke out against LGBT+ people.  Two years later he then also chose to give a speech to various theologians urging them to engage with lived reality of people’s lives, not just ideological doctrine.

    ‘Take care of my sheep.’

    Bishops, we have journeyed long enough on this road regarding whether we LGBT+ people have the right to be treated as equals, and to be honoured for our desire to love and be loved.  You may think that we have travelled it together, but I can assure you that there are many who have been lost along the way as they can no longer cope with the pain of it all.

    If we are honest, we have spent hours discussing certain biblical texts, but we have spent precious little time discussing the harm that we have inflicted and continue to inflict on some of our most vulnerable members.

    I know that many of you have chosen to stay silent through this ‘time of reflection’, which has sadly only served to strengthen the status quo. I can’t help wonder why you chose to do this? Perhaps it was because you were scared of upsetting some of your flock?  But I have to ask you, what about the sheep you left undefended on the margins?  What about those who needed you to protect them?

    So please, as you deliberate this week ensure that you make have one thing central in your mind:

    “Take care of my sheep.”!

    And that means all of us!

  • ‘Resource Churches’: When Planting Becomes Colonialism

    by the Revd Robert Thompson, Vicar St Mary’s, Kilburn & St James’, West Hampstead; host of Open Table, London; member of General Synod

    Robert Thompson

    For those of us who come from the island of Ireland, the language of plants and planting, on the face of it a lovely horticultural metaphor, has a morally problematic dark side. The plantation of Ulster, and of other parts of Ireland, was a colonial endeavour. It involved the resettlement of my own English and Scottish ancestors and was characterised by, at the least, the appropriation of the land of the Irish, and at worst a violent hostility towards them that too often resulted in death. The present, continuing, sectarian divisions of the north of Ireland are a direct result of this form of planting.

    As the Vicar of a parish which has a UKME/GMH majority congregation, I have also become acutely aware of how this same rhetoric of planting was operative in the colonisation of Caribbean islands. Here, much more problematically, most of the indigenous peoples were either murdered or died of imported European diseases. The combination of both these resulted in what can only be described as genocide. Here too the land was parcelled out to the incoming settlers as large ‘plantations’ but, worse than in Ireland, the human labour for these estates came from Africa in chains on slave ships. People made in God’s image were reduced by the people of Christian nations, including the church and missionary agencies, to capital and commodity, to be owned, bought, sold and killed at whim. The history of colonialism also has on-going consequences in the global distribution of wealth and racism.

    In the contemporary Church, we have come to use the horticultural imagery of planting, and to practise it, without much critical reflection either on the language itself or on its practice. As the panacea for our falling numbers we are now are wedded to a ‘mixed ecology’ of church, of which planting forms a major part, as the basis of our future mission. So-called ‘Resource Churches’ are a major strand of this mixed ecology. But many of us have come to the lived realisation that here, too, the seemingly benign language that oozes notions of practical support is not the reality on the ground.

    It was to unmask this contradiction that I recently tweeted:

    “Resource Churches” what a misnomer! “And so Jesus told them a parable: Vicar alone on housing estate parish writes to neighbouring Resource Church, with 13 full time staff, 4 being clergy, 5 times over a year to ask for help with accounts & position of treasurer. No reply….Bishop calls housing estate vicar this week to say Resource Church Vicar would like to ‘church plant’ into housing estate parish & church building. Housing estate Vicar says to bishop “You can tell Resource Church Vicar to go f**k themselves.” Let them with ears to hear, hear!”

    I then further retweeted the original post by saying:

    And how many Resource Churches have a woman, UKME/GMH or LGBTQIA+ person or someone living with a disability or a chronic health condition as Vicar? Of initial 19 in @dioceseoflondon only 1 has a UKME Vicar, 1 now (but not originally) has a woman & as for the other E&D markers…

    My purpose in these posts was to problematise the naïve notion that a ‘mixed ecology’ church is not already a ‘mixed ecclesiology church’ in which we have created a form of neo-liberal, competitive capitalism as the precarious foundation (built on sand) of our ‘common’ life together. I wanted to indicate that, just as in our colonial history, the lived effects of so-called church planting and resource churches are based on a binary opposition of some forms of church to others. Just as in the plantations of Ireland and the Caribbean, this ‘othering’ has deathly consequences for those who are forcibly, without any real consultation and with the blunt instrument of a Bishop’s Mission Order, resettled or displaced.

    The responses from a myriad of clergy and laity to my social media posts ‘parabalising’ the effects of ecclesial planting and resourcing show that these are experienced by many of us in our day to day ministry as a form of colonialism. This colonialism is leading to the breakdown of what has been established ecclesiology of the Church of England as well as trust between us.

    Don’t get me wrong! I am not anti-evangelism, or anti-church planting, so long as they use models of partnership ‘with’ and are contextually intelligent. I am not anti-New Worshipping Communities or anti-Fresh Expressions, or anything else that helps in the living out of the gospel of Jesus Christ and Christ’s proclamation and embodiment of the justice and peace of God’s Reign. But what I, and many, are increasingly deeply concerned about is the ways in which this now happens in parallel and deeply sectarian tracks, in competition not only with parishes, but with other emerging expressions of church. This has created situations in which some clergy and people are completely under-resourced, whilst others have a cup that overflows. As one person on a thread said, these are not ‘Resource Churches’ but ‘Resourced Churches’ pumped and primed with money from the Strategic Development Fund whilst parishes are expected to give, give, give to the diocese with little in return.

    I make this critique not so much as the ‘liberal Catholic’ that many might label me, but as a person formed in conservative and charismatic evangelicalism. I hold, within myself and in my own faith development, the tension of the unity of the church. Biblically, therefore, for me, what is most blatantly contrary to the teaching of Christ and that of Paul are the ways in which church planting and resourcing are pretty well always practised within sectarian silos, leading to economic injustices within the church, and overwork, mental health challenges and burn-out for many.

    The effect of the Save the Parish movement and the election of many of who support it to General Synod has rather focussed this debate. The disillusionment and anger of the many clergy who contacted me indicates that what happened in Winchester could potentially happen in very many dioceses very soon.  To save us from such a breakdown on a national scale, it is time for the present colonialist model of planting and resourcing to stop. It should be replaced by biblical economic fairness. As another contributor to a thread said:

    a modest distribution of SDF funds amongst a single deanery rather than a single ‘resource’ church could revolutionise each church’s potential for mission, and let’s not lose sight of the most important thing: ensure they are solvent. A comparatively minor cash injection would enable struggling churches to renovate, complete minor re-ordering, sort out any problems with the ‘show’ and make money. Which is what we all serve, after all.

    When the rich get rich and the poor get poorer, we are called to practice Jubilee.

     

  • When is a Week not a Week?

    by the Rev Kat Campion-Spall, Associate Vicar at St Mary Redcliffe, Bristol and Dean of Women’s Ministry

     

    How long is a week? We all know that sometimes time seems to rush past and it is Saturday evening again with most of the jobs we had hoped to do still on a “to be done” list. Weeks during lockdown sometimes seemed to be endless, especially with active children desperate to get out and meet friends. But how many days are there in a week? The Church of England doesn’t seem to be able to come up with a consistent answer to that basic question.

    Seven? Apparently not. Try scanning the end pages of the Church Times, and looking at the part-time incumbencies advertised there. A post described as ‘two-thirds’ which turns out to mean Sunday + 3.5 days, with no mention of remuneration. Another advertised for 4 days including Sunday, for half a stipend plus a house. A ‘half-time’ post: Sunday + 3 other days. Other advertisements offering a 0.5 stipend don’t commit to a number of days, but the job description would be almost impossible even for a full-time incumbent. It’s not transparent, it’s not consistent, it’s often mathematically impossible, and it doesn’t seem to allow for any days off! The Church of England announces that more women than men are being selected for ordination training, but that is not the whole story: these “part-time” roles impact on women much more than on men.

    A House for Duty post which comes with nothing but that house, and which expects working on Sundays and two or three other days, may be useful for a priest entering retirement with a pension, but anyone under pensionable age will lose pension contributions in such a role. Women clergy are nearly twice as likely as men to be ordained as an SSM (Self Supporting Minister), roles which usually have no kind of remuneration. Two-thirds of women are over 40 when they begin training; nearly 40% who started last September were over 50. Whatever their experience, and whatever the reason for not offering, or being selected, for ordination when younger, this group will usually only be considered for SSM posts. Dioceses differ in the proportion of women who are in such posts; could this be to do with differing attitudes among senior staff towards enabling women to balance ministry with family commitments?

    But there is a growing need for properly paid part-time posts, particularly for the younger women who the Church of England says it wants to attract. Nationally, in the general workforce, in 2020 38% of women in employment were working part-time, many as a considered choice, compared with 13% of men. Yet in the Church of England, only around 15% of women and 6% of men are in part-time stipendiary roles. While examples of flexibility and good practice exist, it seems that the challenges of planning a fair and workable package, usually including housing, often mean that part-time is put in the “too complicated” box, so part-time roles are rare and, where they are offered, can lead to bad practice.

    In my role as Dean of Women’s Ministry, I have heard too many stories from my own diocese and further afield of women who went through discernment for ordination at a time in their lives when they didn’t want or couldn’t manage a full-time post, and so to enable them to have the part-time roles they need, have been pushed into self-supporting ministry which isn’t really what they want, and which does not always allow them to develop the ministry they have the potential to offer.

    There’s the half-time vicar who wasn’t told until she’d started that she had to pay the rent on half the vicarage. There’s the priest who took a half-time chaplaincy post and then looked into an additional half-time parish post to discover there literally were not enough days in the week for her to do both. There’s the vicar with a young family who moved from a full-time stipendiary role to a house for duty post as a way of working part-time, which means she misses out on potentially a decade’s worth of pension contributions despite being in work. And the vicar in her fifties whose peers in other professions were dropping down to 4-day weeks to enjoy a more balanced life, who simply didn’t see that option in the church and so left ministry.

    We know that there are going to be changes in how ministry, both stipendiary and SSM, will have to be organised in the coming years. We also know that a healthy church will need to attract and retain a diverse range of clergy. Until we have cracked a transparent, consistent and fair way of remunerating part-time roles, we won’t be attracting and retaining those clergy for whom full-time doesn’t work: many of them, women.

  • Truth – The First Casualty in War

    by Jayne Ozanne, Director of the Ozanne Foundation, Chair of the #BanConversionTherapy Coalition and Founder of ViaMedia

    “Truth is the first casualty of war” is a phrase that has been attributed to a number of leaders over the years, but whether it be Senator Hiram Johnson in 1918 or Dr Samuel Johnson in 1758 it remains as true today as it has ever done.

    From the war on Covid to the war in Ukraine, there have been significant attempts to undermine the truth about the reality of the horrors of what is happening.  And it is always the most vulnerable and the most at risk who bear the brunt of these falsehoods.

    Sadly, we are witnessing exactly the same “war on truth” in relation to the lived reality of our trans friends, neighbours and colleagues, and again it is the most vulnerable and the most at risk who are bearing the brunt of the falsehoods that are being spun by the gender critical lobby. What is utterly unforgiveable in this case is that it is those in power, who have the means and the opportunity to do something about it, who are actively choosing not to do so.

    I know I am not alone in being appalled by Downing Street’s confirmation yesterday afternoon that they would not be including trans people in a ban on “conversion therapy”.  Their rational? Well their statement claims that this is “a legally complex area” which needs “further careful thought”, which is a pathetic excuse given that they have been working on this for nearly four years now!  That is why I and over 100 LGBT+ organisations have chosen to distance ourselves from the government’s ironically named “Safe To Be Me” international conference planned for the summer.  The fact that the Prime Minister is prepared to leave those who are the most likely to undergo and be offered “conversion therapy” open to abuse has only served to confirm in the minds of many that this administration is institutionally transphobic.

    One has to ask who is advising the Prime Minister?  It would appear that he has surrounded himself by people who are either too scared to tell him the truth or, perhaps more worryingly, those with a specific agenda, who are determined to peddle their own faux concerns about trans people and in so doing are wanting to wage a culture war against them.  What is clear is that he is not listening to the advice of the UN Independent Experts, his medical profession, research experts or indeed the brave testimonies of survivors, who all are calling for protections against a form of abuse that leads many to consider taking their lives.

    Let us be clear, “conversion therapy” has nothing to do with good medical practice, despite what the gender critical lobby would have us believe.  What we urgently need is to ban any practice that has a “predetermined purpose”, where a person is told that they cannot be who they know themselves to be and are encouraged to change or suppress who they are in order to fit in with a perceived “norm” of a certain group, cultural community or religious belief.

    Affirming spaces, whether they be in a healthcare setting, the home or a religious setting, is the essence of good practice and must be encouraged.  Despite what the gender critical lobby would have us believe, these are spaces where one can explore who one is without prejudice or fear.  That is why senior leaders, including Lord Rowan Williams, sent a letter to the Prime Minister yesterday condemning “conversion therapy”, particularly trans “conversion therapy”, and emphasising that “every church should be a safe space which affirms people in being who they are, without fear of judgement.”

    These are dark days, where there is a spirit abroad that seeks to want to ignore the evidence of harm caused and instead cling to certain falsehoods and ideology.  We see this repeatedly when trying to engage with those religious leaders who are hell bent on opposing a ban.  Time and time again they have been confronted with stories of people whose lives have been torn apart by their actions, with research that shows that these individuals are not alone, with medical professionals explaining the damage they do.  Their response?  Well, it should perhaps concern us all that their tactics seem worryingly familiar – they say we are exaggerating, that we are making things up, that we are bringing these terrible mental health traumas on ourselves.

    Indeed “truth is the first casualty in war”, and we are I would offer in a spiritual war.  The good news though is that we know the outcome already for, to quote one very brave president recently, “we shall win for truth is on our side”.

  • Bishops: Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are!

    by Jayne Ozanne, Editor of ViaMedia.News, Director of the Ozanne Foundation and Member of General Synod

    Silence is a killer.

    Taking the “I don’t want to rock the boat, so I won’t say anything” approach to life only ever emboldens perpetrators and leaves victims undefended and open to abuse.

    Which is why we need our leaders to have the moral courage and backbone to say what they think, no matter who they offend or disappoint, or how many friends they might lose in the process.

    It’s what we’ve witnessed this week when governments have demanded  Russian oligarchs “come off the fence” and say what they think about their friend, Putin’s, strategy regarding Ukraine.  We’ve seen it with certain football managers, and we’ve even seen it at the Met Opera in New York, where Russian soprano Anna Netrbko was dropped because of her failure to speak out and distance herself from the Russian President.

    You see, you cannot sit on the fence for ever – you will ultimately be called on it.

    And so it is with our House of Bishops, most of whom appear to have taken a vow of silence over where they each stand on issues to do with LGBT+ matters.  Issues affecting 1000s of LGBT+ people’s lives, their friends’ & families’ lives and millions of non-church goers in their diocese.

    So why do they stay so precariously perched?

    Well their reasons seem so laudable: “they don’t want to split the church” (please note, it’s already split!), they want “to be a bishop for all those in their diocese” (really? have they bothered to ask whether their LGBT+ members think they are a bishop who understands what they are going through?) or they “don’t want to add to the problems in the Anglican Communion” (as if their decision would really have that much impact!).

    Perhaps the truthful reason is that they don’t want the aggro of having to deal with some of the really vocal, nasty and vociferous homophobic and transphobic members in their midst.  Bottom line, they don’t want to appear to be “unsound” to certain clergy, or indeed even their peers.  Perhaps they are scared of the consequences? Or maybe they erroneously think that somehow by staying silent everyone will in fact think they are “everyone’s bishop”.

    I hate to break it to them, but do they really think we are that stupid?

    The only people who get hurt by their silence are young LGBT+ people (as well as those who are not so old) growing up in conservative churches where they are constantly told that who they are is unacceptable and that they must therefore deny themselves, “take up their cross” (which their heterosexual leaders never will) and change. No, not for them the joy of love and intimacy – they must never ever experience the gift of giving love and being loved by another human being.

    Of course, most bishops take their stance from their homes where they celebrate wedding anniversaries, where their children are asking them to Christmas dinners and where their happy family memories are dsiplayed in photo frames around their homes and on their desks.

    Bishops, we need you to come out!

    We need you to have the moral courage to say what you really think, to come off the fence (which is a pretty uncomfortable place to sit anyway) and stand firmly on one side or the other.  Then we can start to have some respect for you – even if we disagree with you, for we will know you have the courage of your convictions to state what you truly believe and why.

    Of course, there are other bishops who really do need to heed the call to “come out – wherever they are”.

    The scandal here is not that we have gay bishops in the House of Bishops, but that we have gay bishops who do not feel safe enough to come out within the House of Bishops.

    Ironically, the percentage of bishops who feel “safe enough” to be out is far lower it seems than the percentage of LGBT+ Christians (33%) who say they feel “safe enough to be out” to everyone in their local church.  Goodness, if a bishop doesn’t feel safe to be out – how on earth does he/she expect a young LGBT+ teenager to feel safe?!  It beggars belief!

    What’s more, it undermines their authority.  Most in the LGBT+ community know who these LGBT+ bishops are.  More accurately, most know who their partners are!  And yet we’re all sworn to secrecy.

    This must change.  Is there no shame amongst those who expect the rest of us to bear the brunt of the conservatives ire, who hide behind us being open and transparent about our lived experience?

    It makes me so angry, for as always, again, it is the young and the undefended – those least able or equipped to bear the weight of this – who are left to plead their own cause.

    I have just conducted some research in Hungary and the Caribbean, the results of which will be made public shortly.  The findings are horrific.  They show the impact of living in a culture where the only acceptable way of being is to be heteronormative and cis-gendered.  The level of attempted suicide and self harm amongst the LGBT community is astronomical.

    But it is the fact that young LGBT+ people are totally undefended – that those closest to them, who they trust, their parents, teachers, religious leaders and doctors are the ones who are the most likely to tell them they must change and become straight.  It’s heart-breaking.

    That’s why we need these cultures to change.

    And it must start with our bishops.

  • Collateral Damage – Do Church Leaders Care?

    by Jayne Ozanne, Director of the Ozanne Foundation, Chair of the Ban Conversion Therapy Coalition and Editor of ViaMedia.News

    This week saw the publication of the 2021 LGBT+ Christians Safeguarding Survey Report, which has shone a bright spotlight on the cost many of us LGBT+ Christians are paying for being caught in the crossfire of the “debates” over our future.

    The results are very disturbing – with only a third (36.9%) of the LGBT+ Christians surveyed feeling safe enough ‘to be out to everyone’ in their local church.  Perhaps even more worryingly is that over one in six (17.4%) said that “church” was a place where they used to be able to be out, but now no longer feel safe enough to be so.  We appear to be regressing.

    The fact that over three quarters (75.3%) chose the indicator ‘I’m not worried about what might be said in the sermon’ to show that they could feel safe to be themselves in their local church should be a wakeup call to church leaders about the hidden toll that this is all taking.

    The question is, will it?

    For years LGBT+ people have spoken out about the trauma and pain that they have endured, just for being “different” to the perceived heterosexual cis-gendered ‘norm’.  Many from across the medical professions have added their voices too, clearly highlighting the psychological damage being done to those trying to reconcile their faith with their sexuality and/or gender identity.  Then has come a raft of evidence about the evils of so-called ‘conversion therapy’, including harrowing testimonies from survivors.

    Has it made any difference?

    I must admit that one of the things that has shocked me most in these recent years of speaking out about the harm inflicted on LGBT+ people has been the callousness of the response from those hell-bent on continuing with this spiritual abuse.

    They know, but they just do not care.

    And it is that cold indifference and lack of pastoral concern that proves to me, beyond any shadow of a doubt, just how un-Christian their dogmatic stance is.  They may think that they are ‘standing firm for the Gospel’, but the fruit of their teaching is so rotten and bad that it gives off a stench that few wish to be associated with (and those that do just hold their noses and try to put up with it!).

    This was brought home to me in my recent interview with Peter Lynas for Justin Brierley’s show on Premier Radio, Unbelievable.  Time and time again I confronted him with the harm that the Evangelical Alliance was inflicting on LGBT+ people through their promotion of the ironically named ‘Biblical and Pastoral Responses to Homosexuality’ – the ten ‘affirmations’ that set out how church leaders should treat LGBT+ people and their allies in their congregations.  Time and time again he deflected, obfuscated and refused to engage with the evidence.   It didn’t go unnoticed.

    There is nothing loving about ignoring the cries of people you are harming.

    There is nothing loving about turning your back on those who are asking for help.

    There is nothing loving about doggedly pursuing a course of action that is clearly abusive.

    The most upsetting thing is that few in positions of power, who have the ability and indeed the duty to safeguard against this abuse, choose to use their position of power to intervene.  Most stay silent.

    Why? Because they just see LGBT+ people as collateral damage.

    For some reason – which has nothing to do with Christianity and everything to do with fear – they just don’t appear to care.  And it is that which makes me so angry – and I believe makes Jesus really angry too.

    Jesus always dealt with the real-life situation of the person in front of him.  He always responded with love and compassion, whilst the religious leaders around him stuck to ideologies and principles.  He called them on it.  He chastised them for it.  He was crucified because of it.

    Not much has changed, sadly.

    The only thing we do know, is that they will be judged because of it.  One day.

    In the meantime, I know that God is watching and waiting to see who will protect His sheep from harm.  Fortunately, there are many wonderful Samaritans, even if many of the religious leaders walk right on by.  They at least want to help heal and protect the wounded.

    So what can be done?

    Well the first step is to break the silence, gather the evidence and call out the abuse – which is why we did the survey and why I eventually agreed to do the interview with Peter.  The second is to take that evidence to people who have both the pastoral heart and the positions of power to do something about it.

    Watch this space…it’s coming!

  • Evangelical Alliance: “Loving & Orthodox” or “Damaging & Dangerous”?

    by Jayne Ozanne, Editor Director of ViaMedia.News, Member of General Synod and Chair of the Ban Conversion Therapy Coalition
    Last week the campaign to ban conversion therapy was given a significant boost by a letter to the Secretary of State from hundreds of Christian leaders stating clearly that they believed their “Christian duty” was to continue to conduct harmful conversion practices.

    It was just the proof needed to show a sceptical public that the modern-day threat of conversion practices is real and that, even more worryingly, there is absolutely no recognition or remorse for the harm that they have caused countless LGBT+ people.

    If ever the government needed evidence of why they must urgently introduce legislation to protect LGBT+ people, they now have it in spades.  It seems that no amount of reasoned argument, academic or medical opinion, research evidence or the harrowing testimonies of survivors has caused them to stop and reflect on the damage that they’ve done and continue to do.

    Concerns had already been raised by politicians following two evidence sessions, one in Edinburgh and the other in Westminster, both involving senior figures from the Evangelical Alliance.  Indeed, one Scottish Labour politician, Pam Duncan-Glancy MSP commented on Twitter after hearing evidence at the Scottish Equalities, Human Rights and Civil Justice Committee: “I honestly could hardly believe my ears this morning.  I am more convinced than ever* that we need to end all conversion practises, and fast. (*My views that it should end were already very strongly held).” 

    Interestingly, in their letter to the Secretary of State, the Christian Leaders, the vast majority of whom are evangelical, made three claims which need public and firm rebuttal:

    Firstly, they boldly claim that they “act in love” and “never with any coercion or control”.  Have they learnt nothing from the sexual abuse scandals that have riddled their evangelical churches?  Have they not seen the level of coercion and control that exists in their communities?!  It is something that the rest of the world can and does see, that is now well evidenced in various research reports, but it is fascinating and telling that they seem to be so determined not to acknowledge it.

    Secondly, they use the term “orthodox” as if it were a brand label that they alone can claim. Not only is this arrogant, as it fails to recognise the millions of faithful Christians around the world who disagree with them, but it is also wrong.  True Christian orthodoxy is that which proclaims a gospel of God’s unconditional love for all.  Period.  No exceptions, no caveats, no exclusive clubs.  It is never about what we do or who we are, but everything about what Christ has done and who He is!

    Thirdly, it is ludicrous to suggest that a Christian’s ability “to proclaim the Lordship of Jesus Christ and calling people to find life in him” will be impacted by this legislation.  The only practices that are to be banned are those that seek to change, ‘cure’ or suppress a person’s sexual orientation or gender identity.  To claim otherwise is to bear false witness and to prey on people’s fears.

    Perhaps I should not be surprised by their imperviousness to the truth about the harm they cause, nor their defiance in saying they will continue “to do their duty to God” at the risk of being criminalised.  Jesus encountered exactly the same spirit amongst the religious leaders of His day.  Indeed, He had a lot to say to them about this type of person – most notably in Matthew 23:

    “They tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them.”

    before then going on to say:

    “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You shut the door of the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces.  You yourselves do not enter, nor will you let those enter who are trying to.”

    Harsh words yes; but I genuinely believe they are true.  This is indeed, in my mind, a Gospel issue.  This self-dramatising and intransigent attitude cripples and hampers the sharing of the Gospel – both amongst LGBT+ people, who have so often been rejected and hurt by the Church, as well as amongst a nation who want nothing to do with a religion that they see as hypocritical and unloving in the extreme.

    You see just because you say a prayer in a quiet and religious voice does not mean it is loving.  Nor does rebranding a harmful practice as “prayer” make it any the less harmful.  

    It is precisely because these Christian leaders think that what they do is both loving and acceptable that we need this legislation in the first place.  A truly loving approach would be to listen with an open heart to the cries of those who they have harmed, and to ask for their forgiveness.

    Hardheartedness is one of the many traits that made Jesus very angry, and it is what he claimed made them unable to see the truth about the various pastoral situations that he himself was constantly speaking in to.

    Now the opposite of hardheartedness is, I believe, humility.  It is a spirit that requires an openness both to what the Holy Spirit is saying and to admitting that we might have got things wrong.  It is this humility that has led the Church to recognise and repent of the sins of racism, or of poor stewardship of the earth, or of our treatment of women and now, I believe, of its false teachings about those of us who reflect the diversity of God’s creation in our sexuality and gender identity.

    So, as we draw towards the end of the year and move into a time of celebration for the Gift of the Christ child who dwelt in flesh amongst us, I prayer that the eyes of these evangelical leaders’ hearts might be opened and that the Holy Spirit will call them to repent for the damage that they do and the danger that they pose to LGBT+ people, who are created and loved by that very same God, of that very same flesh.

     

  • A Story of Transforming Love – and My Mother

    by the Revd Canon Timothy Goode, Rector of St Margaret’s, Lee, Disability Adviser to the Diocese of Southwark, Member of Archbishop’s Council and Co-Chair of MOSAIC 

    I wish to share with you a personal story. It is a true story and one that I hope will offer some insight into how I have come to understand my relationship with God specifically as a disabled person, and how the resurrected Body of Christ has become for me the place of ultimate belonging and the answer to all my longing.

    I have a hereditary congenital bone condition called Multiple Exostosis. It involves lots of bony spurs growing outwards from all my joins, interfering with my ability to move freely, so, like my mother before me, it involved lots of invasive surgery, especially whilst growing up.

    As a child I had all my many operations at the Woodlands Orthopaedic Hospital in Birmingham. Now the thing that one needs to know about the Woodlands is that the children’s ward is the furthest ward from the operating theatre, so the journey to the operating theatre took between 15 and 20 minutes, sometimes longer. It was not a fun journey!

    Looking back, I remember one constant throughout my many operations and that was my mother. She was at my bedside early on the morning of each operation, always seeking to calm me down either by telling me how proud she was of me or offering catchy little prayers, all to help distract and ease my anxiety.

    When the porters came to take me to theatre, my mother would walk beside me holding my hand, talking, soothing, and distracting me as only a mother can. She was with me as I was put to sleep, and she was there holding my hand as I awoke, ready to tell me that I was the other side of the operation.

    I regret now how rarely I reflected at the time how costly this was for her, for my mother deeply understood what I was going through as she too had gone through the same experience on countless occasions. It must have been intensely distressing to be alongside one whom she loved so acutely, watching me go through what she had suffered as a child. And yet she also knew that each operation was essential for my health and so she quietly bore the cost, operation upon operation.

    Now there was only ever one time in my early teens when my mother couldn’t be there with me for one of the operations and I felt, having been through multiple operations by this time, that I would be able to manage on my own.

    So, the same routine unfolded – the porters arriving to take me on the 20-minute journey to theatre – being put to sleep – waking up in the recovery room post operation. Only this time without my mother present.

    Oh dear. By the time the porters arrived I was all but climbing the wall.  Sitting bolt upright in tears, I implored the porters not to take me down to the operating theatre. I fought the anaesthetist and had to be held down so that I could be put to sleep. And when I woke up, I was so confused as to where I was, I shouted the ward down. It was a profoundly distressing experience.

    Not having my loving constant, my mother,  present, the one who understood me from the inside out, the one who loved me and who I trusted above all other, profoundly changed the whole context and the whole experience. I missed my mother’s profound and deep empathy rooted in lived experience. I missed my companion on the journey. I missed her immeasurable love and compassion.

    Now, when I imagine God, it is the image of my mother accompanying me on the journey to theatre that often comes to mind. Like her, God is by my side. Like her, God is reaching out his hand and inviting me to take it and hold it. Like her, God is telling me that I am loved, that I am perfect in his sight, that I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  For I am made in God’s glorious image revealed through the Risen Body of Jesus Christ, both wonderfully divine and profoundly vulnerable.

    The Risen Body is God’s invitation to acknowledge, own, and ultimately love our vulnerabilities thus delivering for us our ultimate freedom and liberation. Christ’s Risen Body reveals true love to be vulnerable, selfless, and open to suffering. The open wounds are not healed but nor is the body broken. The wounds of Christ are fault lines, places of often profound pain and suffering and yet also places of creation, gift and growth. The Risen Body is our place of ultimate belonging and God’s answer to all our longing.  God suffers as we suffer, God celebrates as we celebrate, God mourns as we mourn.

    My mother didn’t stop my operations. She was only too aware that they would cause me pain and suffering but she also knew that on the other side of each operation was the promise of hope, healing and restoration. Neither does being a Christian avoid us facing the realities of life. Being a Christian is not a ‘get out of jail free’ card.  Rather, the Risen Body of Jesus Christ promises us a new way of living, a new lens through which we can face in hope the realities of life – a promise of redemption and hope that empowers and transfigures the very way we live our lives.

    The invitation to be a Christian is the invitation to respond to the generous offer of God’s graceful hand. God’s hand is offered to us today and every day. The life, death and resurrection, the incarnated Risen Body of Jesus Christ, affirm that this really is a hand worth taking. For God’s hand is offered through grace. We neither deserve nor not deserve it. God loves each one of us with such a graceful love that goes way beyond that of a parent to a child, way beyond that of any human relationship, it is a love that is utterly selfless, open to suffering, wishing to enter our vulnerabilities; a love whose sole focus is our personal and collective flourishing.

    During the pandemic we have been forced to gaze upon the open wounds of the risen body. It has proved deeply uncomfortable, but we can hold our gaze because the open wounds of Christ’s Risen Body reveal a God who intimately understands our deepest concerns, because God has been there. The Word became flesh.

    Why would we deny God’s invitation and refuse the loving hand of God who seeks to love, support, and hold each one of us through this troublesome time? Just as my mother’s love for me transformed my experience of childhood operations, so God’s immeasurable love for each one of us transforms and transfigures our journey through life, with all the joys and travails that beset us.

    For remember… ‘the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.’ (John 1:14)

     

     

     

     

  • General Synod: Over and Out!

    by the Revd Canon Rosie Harper, Chaplain to the Bishop of Buckingham and Trustee of the Ozanne Foundation

    Jayne very kindly invited me to reflect on my 11 years on General Synod, as the new Synod is about to begin. So please excuse it being a bit more personal than usual.

    My father’s first journey outside the UK was to Switzerland to meet the family of the beautiful young woman he had fallen in love with. Round a massive wooden table he was introduced to her parents and the six brothers and one sister. Later that evening they went for a walk and my mother (yes reader, she married him) asked him how he felt. He told her he’d been horrified. ‘Why were they all shouting at one another all the time? Why were they so cross?’

    Turns out he had mistaken passion for anger. Many British people do.

    I have often thought of this story as I have tried to make sense of my relationship with General Synod and indeed with the Church of England. Having retired from Parish ministry earlier this year and called it a day with General Synod, am I now heading for a divorce”?

    In order to fit in, to belong, to be a fitting wife for my pastor Dad, my mother interiorised her passion.  Coming over here just after the war and speaking with a Germanic accent I can only imagine how necessary that felt. I caught glimpses of a deep thinking, unconventional woman who was very concerned that I wouldn’t spoil my life chances by being perceived as too ‘over the top’.

    Somehow my drive to ask difficult questions, to challenge, to speak for people without a voice – yes, to be passionate – never got moderated to a fully British tone. It took me quite a while to understand that this was a problem in the Church of England.

    I first went to an Anglican church at university and that was because Ivor Keys was the organist and he was magic! While I was at the Royal Academy of Music I went to All Souls Langham Place and again, playing the violin in their orchestra more than compensated for the oppressive theology that I found there.

    Walking through the years I learnt Anglican ways and there was so much to enjoy. I found God in the hearts of good and loving people. Much as I loved my parish, and I really did, in due course I tried to get some new and very interesting jobs. I failed, not, I was told  because of my ability but because I was too outspoken. I belonged but I didn’t belong. General Synod was much the same. I remember being told ‘we need people like you’. Ha!

    Well – we all probably have a tale like that to tell. We all bring both spiritual and cultural baggage and encounter many layers of unwritten rules, disability, class, gender and race divisions, intellectual snobbery, power structures and old school networks, reputational lawyers and NDAs. It’s an Institution. What do you expect?

    Only this is a church that is meant to preach something rather different. That we are all equal before God and equally loved. That the first shall be last. That we should not judge.

    Sadly it seems that we just can’t get it right.

    I sat on the Synod that was trying to make women equal and become bishops and we managed to embed inequality into its very laws. I voted for a ban on conversion therapy and yet Christians are lobbying the Government for an exemption. We are still at the point where gay people are deemed to have been created less equal than others and denied both the joy of marriage and a place at the high table. We fail to see how even discussing this as an option is abhorrently abusive. There are just so many ways in which, by the sheer essence of who you are, it is so difficult to truly belong.

    For most of these years the discomfort was perfectly bearable. Daniel Finkelstein wrote a pre-obituary of terminally ill Frank Field in The Times on 2nd November. He described Field’s position in a way that resonated: ‘Field saw political allegiance as being a little like supporting a football team. Not something to which, once you had adopted it, you gave much further thought to or could easily change.’… ‘What Field meant by his analogy was that he realised his continued membership of the Labour party was tribal and he wasn’t going to let it constrain his thinking or actions.’

    Yep! That was how it was with me and the CofE.  It had become my home, yet I was fine about being a critical friend.

    It stayed like that for many years. It’s why I stood for election to General Synod. I was looking for reform and even rebirth and wanted to do my small part from within. The time I felt most lonely was when I articulated a Christian and compassionate argument for Assisted Dying, but even then I found kind and encouraging folk to talk to.

    What changed things for me was safeguarding. Working as chaplain to Alan Wilson, Bishop of Buckingham, we found ourselves listening to a growing number of people whose experience of abuse within the Church was made unspeakably worse by the way the institution treated them. I gained a far deeper understanding of the parable of the Good Samaritan. It was walking by on the other side writ large. Somehow with each new person’s experience I made a shift from feeling that the CofE was basically a good but flawed outfit, to wondering if there was something irredeemably rotten at its core.

    Over many years decent men and women promised to put survivors at the heart of all they did, but no-one could make it happen. Apology followed tear-stained apology.

    We began to drown under an avalanche of new policy, training and procedure, but the actual survivors remained an afterthought. Good grief – we still don’t even have a date for the Makin report into the Smyth abuse and Smyth died in 2017. The actual abuse has been known about for far longer and it seems the survivors matter so little that their story has not even been logged.

    I don’t know how this will end. It’s never great to divorce, and I’m not quite at that point yet, but it‘s hard to see the way forward once the trust has gone. I sincerely hope that the next generation of Synod members will find cause to be less cynical and I will watch with interest and encourage where I can.