Category: Safeguarding

The Darkness Within…

by the Revd Canon Simon Butler, Prolocutor for the Province of Canterbury

Some years ago I had the unenviable task of preaching a sermon to a congregation shortly after a member of the church had been arrested for alleged offences against a teenager in that congregation. The sermon would have been tough enough to preach had it not been for the fact that, after being released from prison where he had been remanded, the alleged abuser took his own life.

He was a lovely man and he lived in many ways an exemplary Christian life. He was kind, thoughtful and with real gifts. He was a natural evangelist. And yet, as I had to acknowledge in the sermon, that there was also a darkness that was part of his make-up, something that perhaps he didn’t or couldn’t acknowledge or face until matters we brought to a head by his arrest. You can imagine the complexity of the feelings of those gathered at his Requiem, myself included: horror at what it was alleged he had done, anger at what he had done by virtue of his suicide and the further abuse perpetrated on those he had already harmed once, deep sadness that a much-loved person had died in such a way, guilt that we had let him down and not been there. It was one of the hardest sermons I’ve ever preached, and I think, one of the most important.

I recalled this as I listened to a tearful member of General Synod express her feelings about what Reverend Jonathan Fletcher is said to have done to those in his care in and around his congregation at Emmanuel, Wimbledon in my own diocese. The speaker is someone who I disagree with profoundly on many issues, including the place of LGBT+ members of the Church, but in this moment I felt a deep empathy, as she spoke so movingly about what she had learned from this dreadful experience. And I felt it again myself, as the news broke over the weekend about the report prepared about the abuse committed by the late Jean Vanier against women with whom he was in a pastoral relationship.

These three men were very different, but it would appear that they shared a common fault, which could be characterised as a dark blind-spot in their psyches, which allowed them to act as they did, turning a blind eye to the imbalance of power in the relationships they had with their victims, which allowed them to justify – mostly to themselves – their abusive actions. When a person is a respected or even revered leader – whether in a local church, or across a tradition – it is vital to hold yourself accountable, never to be above challenge or contradiction, above all to be self-aware of the potential in yourself for your own blind spots to be the source of harm and hurt to others.

About ten days ago, I received an email from someone who was very angry with me. He spoke of me (because I advocate a progressive view on human sexuality) as someone who was “prepared to see the Church split and destroyed” (his words, not mine) and of someone else “providing fuel for those who hate the Church and the Christian faith.” Reading these words in the cold light of an email made them seem particularly dark, harmful and revealing. They were the sort of words I don’t think I could ever speak to another Christian.

But, I ask myself, what is the darkness in me that I cannot see that he can? Am I really that different to Jonathan Fletcher, Jean Vanier and my anonymous late friend?

To be sure, I cannot imagine myself taking the sort of advantage of another in the way they reportedly did, but that is not the only potential to harm we possess. How do those of us who take strong positions on LGBT+ matters – and on other matters that divide opinion in the Church – how do we ensure that we hold our views with conviction, integrity and passion, without ever allowing the unacknowledged, unseen darkness in us to leach out into our conduct or behaviour towards others? Is it even possible? Or are we condemned to inflict this sort of harm on one another, whether for the sake of advocating for LGBT+ people, or for the sake of biblical truth? Does it have to be a zero sum game?

On Wednesday morning I shall be in church with others receiving the sign of ashes. I shall – with abusers and victims, with angry correspondents, with those who long for a more truly biblical approach to human sexuality, and with those who fear that we are about to throw the bible out of the window – I shall stand before the judgement seat of God in prayer, and connect with a proper assessment of the darkness within, and with a merciful, long-suffering, forgiving God. I shall hear the words of forgiveness, and I shall resolve to try and live that forgiveness more fully. And so will many of you.

We all carry unacknowledged darkness. We wound one another, usually ignorantly, sometimes deliberately, occasionally criminally.

God give us strength and courage to see the darkness within, to face it in all its awful reality, to allow ourselves to be accountable and to do all that we can to avoid the harm that it can so easily cause.

February 25, 2020
General Synod: The Highs & Lows

by the Rt Revd David Walker, Bishop of Manchester

The General Synod of the Church of England, which I’ve been attending most of this last week, is a body that attracts its fair share of criticism. Its internal debates can seem far away from the reality of normal church life, let alone the lives we live in our neighbourhoods and communities. And when it turns its hand to commenting on matters of public concern, the queue of members lining up to repeat exactly the same points that several previous speakers have made, but simply with their own personal anecdotes, soon becomes woefully tedious. However, it can also be a place where decisions are made that provide both a moral underpinning and a structured framework for the mission and ministry to which we believe God has called us.

In those respects, this Synod was like most synods.

The draft Cathedrals Measure may not sound the most exciting piece of business ever thought of, and the details of what we agreed at its Revision Stage need not detain us, rather it was an example of what a good legislative process looks like. A complex and interconnected series of recommendations, given a fair wind by Synod last year, had been subject to thorough scrutiny, involving all the major stakeholder groups, and only then brought back for us to revise. The care with which the work had been done outside the chamber, and not only in the formal meetings of the Revision Committee, made our task far more straightforward. Voices had clearly been heard, and there had been none of the preciousness that can lead to a proposed change being rejected simply because it stands at variance with the original proposals. Cathedrals are a vital part of our life, showcasing what the Church of England can do, and working closely with the cities in which they stand. A good legal framework will help then to flourish and serve us in the years ahead.

We also had a good and important debate about Safeguarding. Not only were we able to show the progress being made against the five specific recommendations put to us so far by IICSA, we also got to see the incoming lead bishop in action, presenting an overwhelmingly supported amendment that commits us to a deeper engagement with survivors, and to backing up our words with action. As with cathedrals, the key to doing well will be working together, with all parties fully involved both within and beyond formal meetings. I look forward to taking part in something that won’t be without pain and struggle but which can get us all to a better place. We will do the work before deciding the results.

And then the careful work, led and presented by the former Bishop of London, into where exactly the Channel Islands fitinto our structures, showed equal diligence in spending time and effort, over several years, in bringing all the interested parties to a common and agreed mind. What could have been a messy piece of legislation, with all its stages required over four consecutive days, passed smoothly on its way.

My hopes for the Living in Love and Faith process, for which we received a short update on progress and a slightly oddly structured Q&A session, lie chiefly in that unlike previous expeditions into the territory of relationships, identity and sexuality, there has been a deep involvement, both formally and informally, with the rich diversity of scholarship, science and human experience contained within our Church. However, the nature of the exercise has meant that whilst consultation has ranged very widely, draft texts have not been circulated for comment beyond the group itself and the bishops. That inevitably means that there are levels of both fear and suspicion among Synod members, lest the published document be judged slanted in either a conservative or liberal direction. Hence, I believe that the big challenge, for both the team writing the LLF document and those of us in the House of Bishops who will see the next draft in March, is to affirm our diversity in words that will allow all us in the Church to see that we are being offered space to live and flourish, alongside those with whom we disagree deeply, in one body. The book won’t mandate a particular change programme, but it must resource and support us in forming the change proposals we will need, within a fixed time frame. And that process will need to be open and transparent.

The less satisfactory aspects of Synod were where we departed from that methodology of doing careful and inclusive work beforehand, seeking to find and build the best consensus, before then presenting matters to Synod.

I’d hoped theEnvironment debatewould be a highlight, and in some ways it was. We heard passionate pleas for the Church to work to eliminate its carbon footprint. My one speech in the chamber this time was to support an amendment from the chair of the Finance Committee to set up the structures we will need to produce robust intermediate targets, identify specific solutions and oversee the work well. The crucial issue of selecting the year by which all this will be achieved was moved from a perhaps under-ambitious 2045 to a date of 2030. Whatever ones views on the urgency of the climate crisis, it felt unsatisfactory that this was achieved through an amendment which was decided after less than ten minutes debate, by a majority of 15, with a turnout that meant fewer than a third of Synod members voted in favour of it. Many, I suspect, were caught in the tea room, not having expected a close vote. 2030 maybe the right year, but the process felt flawed. Something that is too often the case with matters we decide at a single sitting.

Finally, to Question Time. At its best this is a highlight of Synod, and the move to having initial answers written has given space for more questions to be asked and more supplementaries to be put. It should be where chairs of committees and councils, who are often senior bishops, are held to account for the work the bodies they lead are doing. Sadly (indeed, I’d go further and say shamefully) it seems of late to be evolving into more of a blood sport. The aim of some questioners is at best to score partisan points and at worst to inflict maximum damage on the person put up to answer. We need accountability from our leaders, but we need to hold ourselves accountable for the way in which we exercise that accountability. Unless the minority who are presently abusing Question Time can curb their behaviour, it must be in doubt as to whether it can survive in its current form. That will be a pity, but better to have a pity than to let it degenerate into an unedifying and embarrassing circus.

I fear I’ve laboured the theme, but it matters.

What makes for a good Synod item is not simply the force of the arguments, the passion in the room, or the eloquence of the speakers on the day. It’s that whatever is brought to us has been properly discussed, and even better co-designed and co-produced, with all those who hold a significant stake in its outcome, so that everyone can fully own and exercise their part in the process.

February 14, 2020
Love, Sex, Hypocrisy & Power

by Jayne Ozanne, Editor of Via Media News and Director of the Ozanne Foundation

Abridged version of speech to William Temple Association, Bournemouth given on February 3^rd 2020 and reported in The Guardian

Most of you, I’m sure, will be more than aware of the events of the last few weeks when we have had pronouncements by men (and, of course, a few women) in power in the Church of England regarding the place of sex in a loving relationship for those with seemingly little or no power in the Church. The House of Bishops’ rather ironically named “Pastoral Statement” coldly set out the supposedly immutable fact that “sexual relationships outside of marriage fall short of God’s purposes for human beings”, just don’t tell the Holy Spirit, Mary and of course, Joseph. (Brackets, the Holy Spirit did tell Joseph, but that’s another story). And so, in one spectacular move we managed virtually overnight to upset millions whose lives do not conform to the way that those in religious power in our Church believe that they should.

Similarly, we have had a week where two seemingly all-powerful men – Prince Andrew and Harvey Weinstein – have been publicly questioned about what their victims claim were abusive sexual relationships, based on fear and power. Both of course, like Jack Profumo in his famous speech in the House of Commons, deny all such charges. To which, I can’t help reminding myself of the infamous words of Mandy Rice Davies when informed in court about the denial of Lord Astor to her claims of an affair: “Well he would, wouldn’t he!”.

Love, sex and power.

You see, abuse is rife in our Church – and what makes me so angry is that it is so often perpetrated by the very people who pronounce from their pulpits the very same words stated in the House of Bishops’ “pastoral statement” – that sex is for marriage between a man and a woman.

This, for me, goes to the heart of the issue. The deep levels of hypocrisy that exist amongst certain church leaders – and I for one want to say, enough!

I believe it’s time to end this hypocritical charade. It’s time for some honesty and some plain straight speaking. Quite frankly, it’s time now for some remorse and where necessary, apologies with real commitments to change.

I am surely not alone in being angered at hearing people pronounce cold, legalistic statements regarding our sex lives rather than our love lives. Do you know that the Bishops’ Pastoral Statement did not mention “love” once, save in mentioning the forthcoming Living in Love and Faith report? Such statements come without an ounce of pastoral sensitivity or understanding of the hurt that they cause millions – who understand far better than we, the Church, it seems, that it’s not who you love but how you love that matters.

What’s more, I’m angered by the duplicity and hypocrisy of certain men – and yes, they normally are men – who talk about the sanctity of marriage, while they themselves live such very different lives. Those who hide behind a smiling public face, but whose personal lives tell quite a different story.

We saw it with Peter Ball. However, as I’ve already touched on, it’s not just retired bishops who are guilty here. It is people serving in our churches now.

Confession time.

Many years ago, quite separately to the rape incident I talked about earlier, I naively found myself in a married conservative evangelical’s bedroom whilst away on Church business. I had foolishly accepted his invitation to continue our discussion from earlier that evening in his room over a drink. I wasn’t at all prepared for his advances (as he now knows, given I’ve since come out!). It ended with me having to push him off me as he lay on top of me tickling me, despite my protests. I was sickened and ashamed. I still am. He has never apologised, but he does keep pronouncing about sex being only between a man and a woman in marriage.

I’m not sure which is worse – the abuse I suffered that night or the hypocrisy of hearing him constantly pronounce his views on this subject, knowing what I do.

This type of hypocrisy surely must end.

There are so many of us who know full well that we have leaders who preach one thing and practice something completely different. Especially when it comes to sex. We have leaders who are married and have affairs. We have leaders who make unwanted passes and comments to those they work with and whom they pastor. We have leaders who are gay but won’t admit it – who then have sex with someone of the same sex – and then chastise those who work for them, who are in openly gay relationships, for doing the same.

It is a despicable abuse of power by those who believe that their only sin is getting caught. So, they get away with it because they can, because of the power they hold and exert over those in their charge. And many of us in the Church know about it and feel powerless to stop it.

None of us, of course, are guiltless – indeed we all fall short of what God expects from us at times. But that is why we need to be far more humble, pastoral and sensitive about how we, those of us in positions of power – whether actual power or perceived power, speak out about these things.

Our nation is, I believe, totally bewildered by an institution that exists supposedly to promote the unconditional love of God, and yet is so judgemental and hypocritical in the way that some of its leaders speak out about it and model it in their own lives.

It’s time for change.

It’s time to challenge the hypocrisy and speak out about abuse of power.

It’s time, I believe, that we developed a healthy positive Biblical understanding of the fact that God made us all sexual human beings.

More importantly, we need to learn to speak about sex in the context, always, of love – of loving, faithful committed relationships – in all their diverse forms.

Friends, the Church needs to recognise that sex is not the competition!

It is part of who we are. It is part of how God has made us. It is a gift from God, which when enjoyed in a loving faithful relationship between two equals helps us understand the true nature of Christ’s union with His Church.

For God lives in relationship, always. It’s so simple and yet so profound.

Would that we, the Church, were able to teach, embrace and celebrate it!

The full version of the speech can be read here.

February 9, 2020
Abusers of Faith

by the Very Revd Dr David Ison, Dean of St Paul’s, Member of General Synod and Vice-Chair of the Ozanne Foundation

In June 2017 the Church of England published the Gibb Report An Abuse of Faith, an independent enquiry into the Church’s handling of the Bishop Peter Ball case, a damning exposure of how the Church had responded poorly to Ball’s abuse victims and had colluded to cover up the seriousness of his manipulative conduct.

Two and a half years later, on 13^th and 14^th January 2020, came the screening of two hour-long programmes on BBC2 called Exposed: The Church’s dark secret, which used survivor and witness testimony and dramatic reconstructions to bring home the emotional impact of Ball’s betrayal of trust set out in the Gibb Report. The bravery of the survivors of abuse was remarkable; and so was the incompetence and lack of care shown by some senior Church and establishment figures in the 1990s and 2000s.

The Exposed programme made links between Peter Ball and other paedophile priests, and hinted at a wider public school culture where physical punishment, humiliation, emotional and sexual abuse in the name of ‘manliness’ or even ‘godliness’ facilitated abusive behaviour. Peter Ball’s abuse was on the basis of anglo-catholic monasticism. But it has strong resonances with similar behaviour uncovered in the last few years in relation to John Smyth and Jonathan Fletcher, two evangelical Christian leaders who were involved in manipulating young men into stripping and being beaten. In Smyth’s case his abuse was known but dealt with covertly, allowing him to go on abusing in another country.

Why do men act in such ways? Why does the church establishment not respond with compassion towards their victims and survivors? Two starters for ten.

The perversion of sexuality.

Healthy personal identity includes coming to terms with our sexuality, whatever it is, and living it appropriately (whether in relationship or in abstinence). Being gay, lesbian or bisexual is not a perversion if it’s who you are. Denying your sexuality, without integrating it into your life and putting appropriate boundaries around it, is what leads to perversion. Whether it’s a poor public school boarding system or a dysfunctional family which takes away from children the opportunity to learn healthy intimacy and relationships, the repression of emotional warmth and the dis-integration of the self makes people vulnerable to finding their missing intimacy in perverse ways. Sexuality becomes covert, shameful, hidden, and leaks out in ways that can damage other people as well as the person themselves.

Jesus said, ‘If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free’ (John 8.31-2). We need to be truthful and open, rather than dogmatic and hidden. Ball, Smyth and Fletcher were orthodox and exemplary Christians on the surface, but were not truthful about their impulses and who they were, and used others for their gratification rather than admit their problems and find help. They preferred to exercise power and control over other people than be vulnerable themselves. The healthy response is for people to acknowledge their sexuality and seek to integrate it into their lives; and the Living in Love and Faith process in the Church of England offers a further opportunity for all of us Christians from across the spectrum of sexuality and church tradition to face up to our own insecurities and temptations, and build healthy, compassionate and equal relationships with others.

Beliefs that reinforce separation and authority.

Common to Ball, Smyth and Fletcher was the use of selective Christian teaching combined with overt and covert appeals to the spiritual authority of the person doing the controlling. They groomed their victims in a spiritual context which validated what they were doing. They also groomed the organisations they worked for into believing that they were great leaders and that what they were doing was normal and right. Ball in particular was spectacularly successful in getting both Church and Establishment to see things from his perspective, treating his victims as being to blame for the problems that he had created, and perpetuating a culture where people with power could not be held to account.

Any ‘charismatic leader’ runs the risk of allowing pride and control over others to overcome compassion and Christ-like service to them. But that risk is greatly magnified in faith settings where there is a view or expectation that the leader is a saint, or closer to God than others; and also where there are rigid beliefs that keep people from thinking ‘outside the box’ and questioning their leaders, views which stop them hearing the beliefs and experiences of others. The recent book Escaping the Maze of Spiritual Abuse by Lisa Oakley and Justin Humphreys (SPCK, 2019) gives many examples of how ‘groupthink’ can happen in a church closed off from Christians and others who are different and could challenge the leadership. Such churches can be fertile breeding grounds for abusive behaviour. Whether it’s evangelical or catholic or liberal, any church or group which doesn’t accept difference is more vulnerable to hosting abuse. One reason why Peter Ball didn’t come to justice for so long was that few people wanted to believe that a bishop could be like that, and bishops who knew otherwise weren’t prepared to acknowledge it: protection of their position was more important than caring for others and telling the truth.

There are catholic cultures and institutions which shelter perverse sexuality, the divide between the aspiration to celibacy and the reality. There are evangelical churches which deny the reality of gay, bisexual, intersex and transgender Christians, in the context of a Church which denies acceptance to gay people wanting Christian and faithful relationships on the pattern of marriage. That’s part of what needs to change in order to be healthy, so that ‘if we walk in the light as [God] himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.’ Until we tell the truth and live in the light – together – we will continue to make it easier for there to be victims of abuse.

After watching the second programme on Peter Ball, I changed channel to see the news. The second item was the report on child sexual abuse in Rochdale, where Manchester police and social services had written off vulnerable young girls in care and allowed wholesale abuse by men to take place against them. It’s not only the Church that has refused to listen to victims of abuse – it’s a massive social problem of how men can turn to abusing others instead of taking responsibility for managing their own sexual desires and conflicts in a healthy way. The Church should not collude with it, but be leading the way out of hypocrisy and dis-integration into the light and truth of Jesus Christ.

January 21, 2020