ViaMedia

Category: Spiritual Abuse

  • Is the Conversion Therapy Ban a Muddle? A Response to Angela Tilby

    by Vicky Brett,  a member of the House of Laity at General Synod and a Lay Pioneer with the Church of England serving the LGBTQIA+ community in Peterborough

     

    In the Church Times (8 April 2022), Angela Tilby reacted to the recent U-turns by the government on conversion therapy with regard to trans people. Here, Vicky Brett, the mother of a transgender child, responds to some of Angela Tilby’s statements.

    “The conversion therapy sometimes urged on gay people by conservative Christians is a very different matter from the kind of listening and exploratory counselling that should surely be the norm for pre-pubescents wanting to change gender”

    Angela Tilby’s article stokes people’s fears with misinformation. Here, she tries to criticise conversion therapy for gay and lesbian people while defending it for young trans people. But those attending a gender clinic already receive counselling from trained, experienced clinical psychologists, psychotherapists and psychiatrists!

    Having experienced both this and ‘conversion’ therapy, I can say the two could not be further apart. A trained therapist does not tell you what to think or what to do or who you are – they allow you the freedom to explore and question and understand yourself and your situation. They do not force or coerce you to transition or to not transition. In contrast, the ‘Christian’ conversion practices we experienced held not one jot of freedom or exploration – we were told repeatedly that we were evil and going to hell, that being transgender or supporting someone was wrong, that my child was a sexual pervert, that we were bad parents, subjected to yelling and prayer to remove demons. Pressure was applied by removing our ability to work or serve in the church, and eventually we were asked to leave. During this time my child took an overdose, but by God’s grace they were resuscitated in A & E. The church’s response to the overdose was complete silence: no apology, no concern, not even an offer to pray – as far as they were concerned, we got what we deserved. Conversion ‘therapy’ is not therapy, it is abuse.

    “among American adolescents, trans services are being accessed far more often by teenage girls than boys, because of … ‘peer’ or ‘social’ contagion”

    Leaving aside that the American and UK situations may not be the same, blaming peer pressure may not explain everything. Girls may find puberty more difficult, not least because of society’s negative attitudes to menstruation. But in a gender clinic, this will all be addressed. Alternatively, remarks like Tilby’s may be just plain old sexism, the idea that girls need protecting because they are weak and vulnerable and don’t know their own minds and can’t think for themselves. We could look at this the other way round. Under the age of 24 only one-third of transitions are male to female and two thirds female to male. Over 24, it’s four out of five male to female and only one in five female to male (ignoring non-binary). Why are trans women only transitioning so much later in life? Is it the extra dose of hatred and hassle they seem to be subjected to by society?

    “things were very different in my childhood; I was a tomboy … But nobody thought this particularly odd”

    But being a tomboy has nothing to do with being transgender! Playing with a particular toy, having particular interests is gender expression – who you are on the outside, how you fit with gender stereotypes. Being transgender is about who you are on the inside. A girl might refuse to wear skirts – but still know she is a girl.

    A transgender child would say ‘I am a boy’ not ‘I want to play with boys’ things’. They might still want to play with dolls’ houses and wear pink (gender stereotypes), as some boys also do. But they would insistently, persistently and consistently reject the notion that they are a girl and get annoyed, upset or distressed when people ‘get it wrong’ or when their body does not match their internal view of what it should look like.

    Tilby implies that it was easier to be free to experiment in her day; maybe this was true for girls like Enid Blyton’s ‘George’, but it was certainly not for boys! A boy would never go to school or a pub wearing a dress when I was young: he would be beaten up! Nowadays some boys feel safer to dress in a non-conforming way and wear make-up – in safe spaces.

    Children can recognise their gender by ages two to three. Transgender adults often report their first public acknowledgment of who they are was before the age of seven. Gender Clinic waiting lists are measured in terms of years, not weeks. Puberty blockers are only given to some children, and only after extensive counselling, to allow the child additional time to think and process before the potentially traumatic experience of puberty kicks in. Cross-sex hormones are given only to a select few over-16s, and no surgery is done pre-adulthood. If a child first voiced their trans identity at seven, this means they would have to be insistent, persistent and consistent for nine years before even hormones would be prescribed.

    “Keira Bell … recently detransitioned and sued the Tavistock on the grounds that she was too young, at 16, to give consent to the hormones that would lead to a double mastectomy”

    12 mothers sadly died while giving birth at Shrewsbury and Telford hospital trust; medical mistakes do happen, but we need to work to fix them rather than insist that the 5,000 women who need their services each year should just stop having babies.

    The Keira Bell case was tragic; a young, troubled girl who mistakenly believed that transitioning would solve all her underlying problems. The case led to a temporary pause on work at the clinic. To me, this was completely wrong. Gender clinics need a lot more funding and staff to enable them to handle the case load, and pausing services just increased waiting times. There is already a four-year waiting list and 11% of trans people go abroad for treatment or buy their hormones over the internet because they cannot access treatment here. We shouldn’t throw out the baby with the bath water!

    Trans people deserve healthcare too, and healthcare decided between them and their doctors, not by uninformed politicians and Christians.

  • 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.

  • Banning Prayer?

    by Jeremy Marks, Founder of Post-Courage and Winner of the Colin Blakely Lifetime Achievement Award

    “In the silence of the heart God speaks. If you face God in prayer and silence, God will speak to you. Then you will know that you are nothing. It is only when you realise your nothingness, your emptiness, that God can fill you with Himself. Souls of prayer are souls of great silence.”   Mother Teresa (vaticansite.com)

    One of the most controversial aspects of the proposed Ban “Conversion Therapy” legislation concerns the notion of “banning prayer”.  To some people it can feel like the beginnings of persecution for Christians! But is it?

    As an evangelical Christian (in the sense that I believe knowing Jesus, studying his teaching and living according to his words is Good News) I am ALL for prayer!  If only sincere prayer from the heart played a bigger part in all of our lives. . . !

    However, I have learned through nearly 50 years of life as a Christian (30+ in full time ministry) that prayer is much more about listening than speaking… learning to listen to God above all and being willing to learn.

    I love the story of Mother Teresa of Calcutta’s reply to a journalist, years ago, when he asked her how she prays?

    “I listen” replied Mother Teresa.

    “Oh?” replied the journalist, clearly interested. “And what does God say to you?”

    “He listens too” she replied.

    This made me laugh. Because I have to say that this is exactly how I find prayer to be. Long ago I came to realise the foolishness, the short-sightedness, of bringing a list of prayer requests to God, to ask for needs to be met. . . that God understands far better than I do anyway!  I began to change my prayers to something more like, “So what do YOU think I/we/they need Lord?”

    I also discovered in this process what a wonderful sense of humour God has.  Like the day when I observed in my prayers (a little self-indulgently) “Lord sometimes I wonder if I have any true friends who really care about me? Nobody ever seems to ring or contact me unless they are in trouble or need something!”  Quick as a flash I “heard” God reply, “Whatever makes you think you are so special?  Nobody ever turns to me unless they want something, or they are in trouble – and I am GOD”. I must admit I burst out laughing, and then sheepishly replied, “I see what you mean.  I cannot complain, can I?”

    So it follows that when praying for others, I realised that listening to them and coming to a place of deep empathy comes first, comes second, and comes last! As someone once observed, “God gave us two ears and one mouth, so let us use our ears and mouth in those proportions!” Learning to walk alongside those who feel lonely, marginalised, and misunderstood (as Jesus did) is what prayer is all about. But never starting with assumptions as to what a person needs or wants, then boldly launching into ardent prayer, which can do far more harm than good!  To be sure, it certainly has its effect, but often in totally the wrong way!

    Humility is the foundation stone for all prayer, I have found.

    Regrettably there are some evangelical Christians who believe that a few Bible texts can be applied to everyone, in a superficial one-size-fits all way. I can accept that when it comes to a verse such as “All have sinned and fall short of the grace of God”.  (Romans 3:23) But they don’t seem to believe that it is necessary to learn about the complex issues of human sexuality, before they just sally forth and pray triumphantly that God will “deliver”, say a gay person, from their same-sex desires and make them heterosexual.  Such people can be among the worst culprits for arming their prayers with a cocktail of prejudices and undisguised agendas that demand change, then push those assumptions into a vulnerable person’s life, like a lethal injection, causing incalculable damage.  Consistently I have seen this to be the most pernicious and toxic form of prayer imaginable.

    The better way, I have found, is to pray for wisdom as to how to help and comfort somebody.  More and more I discover that when I do so, and then trust in the Holy Spirit to guide me as I make a response, I am amazed at what comes out of my mouth.  So are the people who listen to my response, who often go on their way rejoicing. It really is such a privilege to listen and pray for God’s wisdom to be revealed.

    When Jesus taught about prayer it’s fundamental premise was about changing the person praying NOT about trying to change another person, the one you are praying for, however well-intentioned!  Just consider the Lord’s prayer for starters. It is impossible to pray that in a “me-centred” way.  The Lord’s prayer is only about me in the context of my relationship with God – as Father God, as provider of all my needs, as protector and guide, as minister of forgiveness, grace and empowerment.

    So, I’m all for prayer when it is informed and appropriate, coming from a place of empathy. But there’s nothing that undermines the quality of prayer more than crass assumptions that say more about the pray-er’s ignorance and prejudices than about the person seeking support.  If “banning prayer to change people’s sexuality” results in persecution of those kinds of Christians, then I can see that there is good reason for it!  The law is given to protect people from abuse and harm.

    Just in case there are any readers who feel that I have just invalidated their prayer life with dismissive comments, may I just share something else about my own prayer life that I hope might restore the balance.

    Many years ago, I got stuck in my prayer life. With my heart full of huge concerns for other people’s dire needs and seemingly intractable situations, I not only felt overwhelmed but also frustrated! I couldn’t see how a good God needed any input from me at all when God can perfectly well what heartbreak there is and what needs to happen. Gradually I realised that God has put us on this earth to be His/Her/Their eyes, ears, and arms to reach out, and feet to take us to help others in God’s name. And that this sense of partnership with God is what the Christian life is all about.

    ­­One b­­­­usy day, burdened with­­­­ huge concerns for myself as well as others, I sat down for a few moments and wrote down everything I could think of there and then, that I would have prayed about if I’d had the time and faith to do so. Then added “God’s To-Do List!” at the top. Then I got on with my day. That piece of paper quickly became buried in my paperwork pile and re-surfaced when I was looking for something else about 6 weeks later. I stopped for a moment to glance through the list and was astounded to see that almost everything on that list had been resolved in one way or another and that in most cases I had completely forgotten that I had listed them. Moreover, the resolutions had come in all kinds of ways, most of which I would never have thought of.  So, I concluded that sharing our hearts and concerns with God is valid and important. Then we can leave these things with God and one way or another resolution comes. Because when we are motivated by love our prayers can indeed be very powerful in all the best ways… and they won’t get us into trouble with the law either. It is not the sort of prayer that can be banned!

    “I used to pray that God would feed the hungry, or do this or that, but now I pray that he will guide me to do whatever I’m supposed to do, what I can do. I used to pray for answers, but now I’m praying for strength. I used to believe that prayer changes things, but now I know that prayer changes us and we change things.” – Mother Teresa 

  • 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!

  • Drawing the Line?

    by the Rt Revd Paul Bayes, Bishop of Liverpool and Chair of the Ozanne Foundation

    Do not fear what they fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord.[1]

    It’s not that long ago that the word “inclusive” used to irritate me. I saw it as a party slogan, rather like the use of “orthodox” or “godly” in other parts of our Church. It annoyed me, even as it nagged at me.

    This is because I hoped to rise above such divisive words. In particular, in my early days as a bishop I tried to inhabit a vacuum of opinion. I believed that this vacuum is the proper place for a bishop, the only place that a “symbol of unity” in the Church could possibly sit. Such a vacuum is certainly a good place to live if you want a quiet life: in space, no one can hear you scream.

    Well, over the years things changed for me. As with so many others in the long history of the Church, events and wounded people approached me and I came to know them, and they changed me. Now, as I approach my retirement, the place and voice of a disciple involves (to quote Dan Berrigan SJ as I so often do), “knowing where you stand, and standing there”.

    So I have done my best to say what I think about a whole range of things, including one or two which are contended in today’s church. I’ve tried to speak for, to make room for, the lives of people for whom there was no room in the past. Overall I’ve tried to set my compass by what the Roman Catholic Church has called the preferential option for the poor; what my predecessor David Sheppard called the bias to the poor.

    As I’ve done so there has been no shortage of people to tell me that by making this journey at all, I have fallen short of my discipleship in general and of my episcopal vocation in particular. I’m told that I have gone wrong in one or both of two ways: by being a heretic and/or by being a maverick.

    Those who think I’m a heretic usually write to me. They tend to be unrestrained in the use of their language. Many of them believe that my eternal destiny is at stake and that they need to help me with my salvation by setting me straight. From the tone of their letters they clearly believe that the job will best be done by shaming me into heaven, reminding me forcibly of my mistakes, inaccuracies, ignorances, underlining how offended they are by my words. I try always to reply to these letters and emails with thanks, but I have to say that none of them has yet succeeded in its aim. Shaming and anger are poor persuaders.

    Those who think I’m a maverick are usually more restrained in their style. They tend not to write but to speak privately, or to express themselves non-verbally, in the raising of an eyebrow of the rolling of an eye. They communicate more in sorrow than in anger. What a pity, brother, that from time to time you have so noisily flouted the agreed norms of polite Christian behaviour. How unfortunate that you seem to be questioning or resisting or pre-empting the necessarily slow deliberations of the Church. What a shame that you keep banging on about one or two issues, rather than spreading your indignations more carefully, seamlessly and evenly about the place. How sad that you’re so… well, untactful.

    For me, as for a number of my colleagues retired and serving in all orders of the Church, being seen as a maverick is unpleasant and unwelcome. Unwelcome, since our belief is that we live in the mainstream of discipleship and not on its margins. Making the option for the poor, being there for those on the edge of things, is the mainspring of our witness. But we ourselves do not wilfully seek to be on the edge of things. Still less do we want to be treated as a mildly tolerated presence on the edge, like pepper in a stew, piquant but mercifully optional.

    Anyway, as the year’s end approaches, and with around fifty days to go before my farewell service in Liverpool, I have been reflecting on this question: how have I, who used to be so annoyed by the word “inclusive”, come to be seen as an annoying maverick/heretic now?

    Perhaps it’s because I have entered in to a greater faithfulness to what I was taught about God and about his only-begotten Son. That at any rate is my hope and prayer.

    Here is a short passage from the Lutheran liturgical theologian, Gordon Lathrop. I read it years ago, and I quote it often:

    Draw a line that includes us and excludes many others, and Jesus Christ is always on the other side of the line. At least that is so if we are speaking of the biblical, historic Christ who eats with sinners and outsiders, who is made a curse and sin itself for us, who justifies the ungodly, and who is himself the hole in any system.[2]

    In the week of my forty-second Christmas as an ordained minister, I look again as a disciple to the paradox of the Incarnation. I look to the Infant of Days, to the scrap of humanity who couldn’t find a room yet who is fully God, who grew up to dine with sinners, to scandalise the religious, to die an unclean death outside the city. I look to him and I agree with Gordon Lathrop. Jesus is himself the hole in any human system of righteousness, and Divine righteousness is a gift given to those on both sides of any line. And I will live in this mystery with all the integrity I can muster.

    Another long-remembered thing. As a sixth-form student I read a book by Daniel Berrigan SJ, the US Catholic priest and peace protestor whose words I quoted above. The book was called “America is Hard to Find”. That book drew me into the peace movement, as a member of which I was honoured to have been arrested and held three or four times for standing or sitting in the wrong place, with Quakers and Catholics and Methodists and a few other Anglicans, acting as a heretic or a maverick over against the laws of England, when instruments of mass destruction were found on the streets, at Cruisewatch near Greenham Common, or at RAF Lakenheath, or in places where decisions were taken about the use of such weapons, such as 10 Downing Street (where in those days you could indeed stand or sit on the street outside). This has been a wellspring of my witness, and I remain glad that I stood there, although doing that too brought criticism to me.

    Perhaps all these criticisms are justified, perhaps one day I’ll grow up enough to understand them and to repudiate my life’s journey. Or perhaps not.

    In any case mine is far from being the unblemished journey of a saint or a prophet. It’s been full of twists and turns, mistakes and apologies, depressions and re-commitments. It has led me from a seat on the road outside 10 Downing Street to (briefly) a seat in the House of Lords, and many would say that sums up a road of contradiction and paradox and compromise and complicity.

    But as a result of that journey, I am more and more convinced that if we draw a line that includes us and excludes many others, then Jesus Christ is always on the other side of the line, among the people outside. I want to be there with Him. I have become unashamedly inclusive, for Christ’s sake.

    And on that road I hope to keep walking, through Christmas and through retirement and on into my own future, as part of the future of this broken and excluding world which needs Jesus so much.

    As I prepare to enter another chapter of my life and ministry, I commend the life of looking beyond lines to you all. I hope that you’ll walk on that road yourself, unafraid. God is with you. Have a blessed Christmas, and a happy and spirit-filled New Year!

    © Paul Bayes 2021

    [1] 1 Peter 3:14

    [2] Gordon W. Lathrop, Holy Ground: A Liturgical Cosmology, pp. 64-5.

  • Making a Stand: From Kilroy to Synod

    by the Very Revd Joe Hawes, Dean of St Edmundsbury & Ipswich and Member of General Synod

    As a young gay ordination candidate I learnt the contested territory I was about to step into in the Church during a ministry experience scheme a year before my selection and training.

    The year was spent at a cathedral, a wonderful flourishing community where I learned much, made various mistakes and began to understand what ordained ministry might look like. It was 1987 and the infamous ‘Higton debate’ on General Synod was brewing. Like so many others, I experienced the casual homophobia of the tabloid press (remember the Sun article ‘How to spot if you’ve got a Gay Vicar’?) In my case the insecurity came not just from the knowledge that this was about people like me, but also from the proclaimed conservative standpoint of my bishop who was quite clear that questions would be asked of all ordinands whose sexual identities were in question.

    Into this febrile atmosphere came a request for me to join ‘Kilroy’ a daytime live audience show. Not quite Jerry Springer, but populist and opportunist nevertheless. I should have said no at once but the prospect of the lure of the television cameras was just too strong. In discussions with the researcher beforehand I was careful to stress the precariousness of my position, that there could be no question of being outed and that my future would be in question if I was. Solemn assurances were given, and fool that I was, I believed them. Faithfully I did my research about how different factions of the Church of England, represented on the cathedral Chapter, might feel about the vexed question. From the ebullient defiantly liberal Sub Dean (“What’s all the fuss about?”) through to the conservative Anglo Catholic Chaplain (“celibacy would be your only option…if it’s you we are talking about here?”) and on to the gentle, agonised Precentor (“Oh I just wish it would all go away”), I swiftly gained a comprehensive picture of the polarisation of the Church of England. On one thing, however, all were clear: “If, by any chance, any of this is relevant to you, for heaven’s sakes, don’t admit to anything: you are in a highly vulnerable position!” I should have listened harder!

    Came the day, and on the front row I sat – opposite members of LGCM (Lesbian & Gay Christian Movement), theologically conservative vicars and members of General Synod, hoping in vain that that I could escape any  notice. Of course, it was not to be. Perma tanned and implacable, Roger Kilroy-Silk honed in on me half way through the programme, which we had all been warned went out live without editing. “Now we have here today an ordinand, Joe Hawes, who is gay. So, Joe, do you feel at risk that you won’t be ordained?” I still remember the feeling of icy paralysis, knowing my family, my bishop, cathedral staff were all watching, all unaware (or so I thought) of ‘The Truth About Me’.

    Swallowing hard and denying my true nature on daytime television does not come high on the list of my ‘ must be repeated’ life experiences, but it is what I did. Expressions of pity and disbelief on the faces of fellow guests did little to dispel the feelings of guilt, shame, fear and embarrassment which accompanied me as I aimlessly walked the streets, not daring to return to the cathedral, a card from LGCM in my pocket. (“If you ever need to talk, phone us.”)

    I have recalled that day so many times in the intervening years.

    It was followed by a decision to embrace celibacy as I began training for ordination even though I didn’t much want to) – a decision soon set aside as on my first night at Theological College I met the man who would become my life partner. The subsequent years have been quite a journey where I have grown in confidence by his love as well as by good teaching and generous friendships, where I have learned from sound, inclusive and progressive theology that I was loved by God for who I am rather than in spite of who I am; where I have found a voice to try and speak without hatred but with passion about inclusion; found welcome and fellow feeling in generous inclusive parishes; to eventually finding three years ago that a senior appointment in the Church of England really is possible if your bishop is brave and inclusive enough; even if it meant negotiating a storm in a teacup of a certain senior Tory politician’s reaction to my appointment as a Dean (we have subsequently become good friends and I was honoured to conduct the funeral of his wife), until the recent inauguration of General Synod.

    Buoyed up by the good fellowship of LGBTQ members, I stood during the inaugural session of General Synod during Simon Butler’s powerful speech in silent witness to our LGBT sisters and brothers in Ghana who are soon to be in even greater risk of imprisonment and physical danger than they are at present.

    As I stood, I recalled that terrified young ordinand under studio lights in the summer of 1987. If that was how I felt then, then how must it feel to be LGBT+ in Ghana today?

    And as the years rolled back, I forgave myself, got over myself, set my very minor struggle in the context of the real danger faced by those in whom we stood in solidarity, and gave thanks for the liberty I enjoy, the task in which I share with other good people, and prayed the God who has been faithful to me to protect them and change the hearts of their government and Church.

  • Ghana, Synod & the “Othering” of LGBTQI People

    by the Revd Dr Charlie Bell,  Fellow at Girton College, Cambridge and Assistant Curate, St John the Divine, Kennington

    The events of the last week or so have not been good for the Anglican Communion, or for LBGTQI people.

    As readers will doubtless know, the Anglican Church in Ghana has lent its support to – indeed encouraged the passing of – the ‘anti-LGBTQI bill’ that will lead to the imprisonment of LBGTQI people and their supporters, the enforcement of “conversion therapy” and “corrective surgery” for intersex people. The Archbishop of Canterbury – after a rather significant delay – initially released a statement that ‘reminded’ the Ghanaian church of their commitment to oppose the criminalisation of ‘same-sex attracted’ people [sic], whilst not missing an opportunity to mention Lambeth Resolution 1:10, which opposes same-sex relationships and is entirely unbinding on any member church of the communion. Whilst that statement wasn’t much, it was something.

    Yet only a few weeks later, a second statement was released that issued an apology to the Ghanaian church for speaking out about the potential incarceration of LBGTQI people before the Archbishop had spoken to them directly. In that statement, the Archbishop stated that ‘cultural, social and historical contexts must also be considered and understood’. As I have written elsewhere, it is somewhat difficult to imagine which “context” would justify the imprisonment, mutilation and psychological torture of LBGTQI people. It is noticeable that the swathes of bishops who appeared to suddenly become aware of the situation in Ghana the second the first statement was released – and immediately re-Tweeted it – did not do so on this occasion.

    But the saga was not over. At General Synod this week, the announcement was made that “while not condoning same-sex marriage, the Anglican Church in Ghana does not condone the criminalisation of the LGBTQ+ community”. Leaving aside the absence of any need whatsoever to mention same-sex marriage – indeed, we are talking about people being thrown in prison and subjected to medical maltreatment, and not holy matrimony – it is the latter statement that is both fundamental, and fundamentally questionable. There is no evidence, beyond vague reassurances from an English Archbishop, that the Anglican Church of Ghana has changed its position. If it continues to support the ‘anti-LGBTQI bill’, then it continues to call for the imprisonment of LBGTQI people.

    Yet beyond this, what wasn’t said also spoke volumes. Whilst criminalisation was mentioned in the speech, not a word was said about conversion therapy or the enforced surgery spoken of in the bill for intersex people. By mentioning marriage, and ignoring these genuine issues, by the endless references to Lambeth 1:10 and ‘same-sex attraction’, by the utterly baseless conflation of the issue of basic LGBTQI rights and ecclesial relations with ‘those who suffer from the ongoing effects of colonialism’, and in the whole way this has been presented – without evidence, without urgency – it has once again become clear that LGBTQI people are acceptable collateral damage in the diplomacy of the Anglican Communion. At what stage will enough be enough?

    Nobody is calling for the Archbishop of Canterbury to patronisingly tell off the Anglican Church of Ghana, or to swan in as a colonial authority. Yet it is equally patronising – and ultimately colonialist – to talk about culture, history and context when deciding whether to argue strongly against the criminalisation of LGBTQI people. The Archbishop may be an ‘Instrument of Communion’ and a ‘focus of unity’, but this will mean little to Ghanaian LBGTQI people if they are thrown in prison or disfigured. It is entirely possible to make an argument about basic human dignity without adopting the mode of colonial overlord.

    The problem is that, ultimately, we don’t matter.

    For years, I have tried to argue myself out of this position – listening to the voices that say ‘wait’, or ‘patience’, or ‘warm hearts and cool heads’. But it is true – we simply don’t matter. What matters is the propping up of a colonial era structure that is the Anglican Church’s version of the Emperor’s New Clothes. The Communion is broken – it is simply not possible in a post-colonial world to have an Englishman who is both Primate of All England and the ‘focus of unity’ worldwide. It is startlingly obvious, and yet we lack the vision and faith to reimagine the communion for the twenty-first century. And the price we pay is the cheapening of LGBTQI lives.

    The most recent session of General Synod simply emphasised this.  In response to a question, we were told by the Bishop of London that LBGTQI ordinands and clergy don’t have to assent to the document Issues in Human Sexuality, only to ‘live within its guidelines’ – guidelines which forbid any sexual relationships for LBGTQI people. We were told to wait for the outcome of Living in Love and Faith, with a benign smile of ‘I know it’s a difficult time’, belying the blithe attitude that characterises so much of the central church’s engagement with ‘issues’ that are grappled with daily in the lives of LBGTQI Christians. ‘All candidates’, we were told, must agree to live within the guidelines – yes, indeed, ‘all candidates’, yet the guidelines aren’t forbidding ‘all candidates’ from forming any sexual relationship whatsoever. The LGBTQI experience is one again ignored and minimised – there are overtones of ‘all lives matter’. LBGTQI people are put in a position where we are not expected to ‘assent’ to a document but are expected to live within its guidelines which are explicitly based on the reasoning found within it! It’s sophistry of the very worst order. The situation would be farcical were it not so tragic.

    LBGTQI people remain ‘other’.

    They are told to ‘just trust’, as if that trust has ever been justified in any actions from the centre of the church. They are told to ‘calm down’. They are told to ‘wait’. They are told ‘the time is not quite right’. All the while, the straight people in charge continue to discard LBGTQI voices, loves and hopes as peripheral to the concerns of the church. We can talk about services of blessing – which are certainly part of the solution – but until we tackle the underlying culture, nothing will change.

    At some point someone is going to have to take some responsibility. It is a known fact that some bishops are privately in favour of change. The time to speak is now.

    LBGTQI people are either collateral, or they are beloved children of God. Enough with the excuses, enough with the politics. We are not called to be politicians – indeed we are not ultimately called to be a focus of unity, if that damages God’s children. We are called to be heralds of the Kingdom of God. It’s time to get on with it.

  • 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.

  • ‘The Bible is Clear’, Consent & ‘Conversion Therapy’

    by the Revd Canon Dr Phil Groves, former Director of the Anglican Communion Office (2006 – 2016) and Associate Rector Wychert Vale Benefice 

    In the public debate over ‘conversion therapy’ the leaders of evangelical powerhouses such as the Evangelical Alliance and the Church of England’s Evangelical Council have sought to maintain space for people to receive ‘non-coercive’ counselling and prayer for those seeking to live in accordance with their beliefs. They cite freedom of religion and spread stories about people being denied the right to pray the Lord’s Prayer. Religious freedom is said to be at stake.

    What I don’t see is any engagement with the damage to evangelical theology done by advocating such change orientated therapies.

    ‘The Bible is clear’ has become a mantra of institutional evangelicalism as exemplified by the response to the Evangelical Alliance to proposals to ban conversion therapy:

    ‘The teaching of the Bible is clear that sexual activity is restricted to monogamous marriage between one man and one woman. For Christians who hold to this biblical teaching, it is essential that those who experience same sex attraction are free to pursue and receive support to help them live in accordance with their beliefs.’

    If ‘the Bible is clear’ defines reality then it must follow that ‘same sex attracted people’ can find fulfilment in singleness or in heterosexual marriage.

    Plenty of Biblical scholars have questioned whether ‘the Bible is clear’, but they have been unconvincing to those who represent evangelicalism. However, in rejecting such claims evangelicalism needs to face up to just what it is endorsing.

    No one claims the Bible has anything to say on the kind of ‘support’ that might be needed by people who are convinced by the clarity of the Evangelical Alliance’s message and who know themselves not to conform.  So what kind of therapies are they keen to support?

    The Evangelical Alliance is clear that they oppose the use of electric shock treatment and rape as methodologies, and this is important because while they are clearly criminal here, the rape of lesbians in particular is common in Africa and our African Anglican allies need all the support they can get to have the laws that enable horrific abuse to be removed.

    However, they continue to support non-coercive therapies, without specifying just what they are.

    The most common ‘therapy’ that has been adopted by Christian groups is so called ‘reparative therapy’. Reparative therapy was developed by Freudian analysts and was based on assumptions that sexual drive is learnt in childhood and adolescence through desire for the more distant parent. Gay men (and Reparative Therapy focused almost exclusively on gay men) were understood to be closely attached to their mothers and have distant or absent father figures for whom they developed sexual desire. The remedy was to develop an extremely close male to male bond between male analyst and client. These relationships broke all the norms of distance and clients were rewarded for good behaviour, such as sexual fantasies and sexual encounters with women, and reprimanded for bad behaviour as the therapist became the father figure.

    The British Psychoanalytic Council only finally repudiated such analysis in 2012.

    The academic literature that informed that decision explored the abuse often inflicted by therapists on clients and the damage done to clients. ‘Talking therapies’ were understood to be harmful to clients and society as a whole. Clear policies of discrimination barring LGBT people from training as analysts was eventually put in the past.

    Of course, the people who came for psychoanalysis did so of their own free will – they were not forced into it. Except they were. They were persuaded of their own deviancy by a culture that portrayed heterosexuality as pure. They were easy to persuade that their failure of attachment to their father was real and at the heart of the problem. They were open to forming a bond with an analyst who often thrived on the power.

    During the 1990s Christian organisations promoting change orientated therapies latched on to these Freudian solutions especially with the formation of National Association for Research & Therapy of Homosexuality (NARTH), founded by Charles Socarides, a leading Freudian analyst, and Catholic therapist Joseph Nicolosi.

    Their views were promoted by Anglican Mainstream and the Latimer Trust in a book published in 2007 entitled God, Gays and the Church. The book also promoted other ways of avoiding ‘same-sex attraction’ such as praying to the saints and most specifically the use of John Henry Newman as a ‘spirit guide’. Yes, the Latimer Press published a book promoting the use of prayers to the saints. However, it was the discredited Freudianism of Socarides and Nicolosi that dominated the text.

    Evangelical Christianity became the standard bearer for Freudian assumptions about sexual attraction, while often labelling progressives as Freudians (oh, the irony).

    Have things changed?

    Well, a key player in the campaigns to stop the banning of change therapy is The Core Issues Trust and it continues to reference reparative therapy as a key component of what they call Change Orientated Therapies. They don’t make people aware that it is outdated Freudianism, but the Director of CIT, Mike Davidson, is shown proudly standing by Joseph Nicolosi who was absolutely clear about the therapy he was promoting.

    Institutional Evangelicalism has become the last bastion of support for the 20th Century Freudian understanding of what it understood as deviant sexuality. ‘The Bible is clear’ is the mantra, what actually is being endorsed is an outdated Freudianism.

    It cannot be healthy for evangelical theology.

  • LGBT Stories: Bring on the Ban!

    by the Rt Revd Paul Bayes, Bishop of Liverpool and Chair of the Ozanne Foundation

    This is a brief and unoriginal article, simply reminding us what we have done as a Church, and what the Government has done, and what still needs to be done, and what you can do.

    In July 2017 the General Synod voted to support the following motion:

    That this Synod:

    (a) endorse the Memorandum of Understanding on Conversion Therapy in the UK of November 2015, signed by The Royal College of Psychiatrists and others, that the practice of gay conversion therapy has no place in the modern world, is unethical, potentially harmful and not supported by evidence;

    (b) call upon the Church to be sensitive to, and to listen to, contemporary expressions of gender identity;

    (c) and call on the government to ban the practice of Conversion Therapy.

    Here’s how that vote went:

    In the House of Bishops: 36 in favour (97%), 1 against (3%), no abstentions

    In the House of Clergy: 135 in favour (78%),  25 against (14%), 13 abstentions (8%)

    In the House of Laity: 127 in favour (68%), 48 against (26%), 13 abstentions (7%)

    Archbishop Sentamu said this in his speech:

    “The sooner the practice of so-called ‘conversion therapy’ is banned, I can sleep at night.”

    As part of my own brief contribution I said this:

    “As the world listens to us the world needs to hear us say that LGBTI+ orientation and identity is not a crime. LGBTI+ orientation and identity is not a sickness. And LGBTI+ orientation and identity is not a sin…

    What matters here is that a therapeutic model is not appropriate if LGBTI+ orientation and identity is not a sickness. And if the Church suggests that really, actually it is, then our many statements opposing homophobia are void, and the world will think that in fact we really do believe LGBTI+ people to be second-class humans no matter how they behave; and this is not acceptable to me and I hope not to this Synod. That’s why I will vote for this motion…”

    In 2018 in the Government document “LGBT Action Plan”, the then Minister for Women and Equalities committed the Government to:

    “Bringing forward proposals to end the practice of conversion therapy in the UK”

    In July 2020 the Prime Minister said this:

    “On the gay conversion therapy thing, I think that’s absolutely abhorrent and has no place in a civilised society, and has no place in this country.”

    On 11 May 2021 a press release from the Government Equalities Office said this:

    “…the Government will take legislative steps to ban conversion therapy… Many forms of the practice are already prevented under current legislation, but this new ban will ensure that it is stamped out once and for all.”

    The stories told by contributors to Via Media over the past few weeks underline once again the human cost of conversion therapy. The decision of the General Synod to call for a ban stands. The statements of the Prime Minister and the Government stand.

    Despite this the Government has not yet brought legislation forward. Like my colleague the Bishop of Manchester, I regret this. In Via Media a month ago he wrote:

    “Meanwhile, whilst we fail to press on with draft legislation, young people are continuing to suffer abuse disguised as therapy. Their harm is real and immediate. For their sakes we need to make this consultation both short and to the point.”

    The Church has spoken confidently, and Government ministers have agreed. But action is needed now.

    And you have the opportunity to influence this action. So:

    • Please write to your Member of Parliament, and/or to the Minister for Women and Equalities, and/or to the Prime Minister, asking for a swift and positive introducing of legislation to ban conversion therapy “once and for all”. Please encourage those in your church community to do the same. And as you do so, remember those who have courageously told their stories on this website, and the many thousands whose stories remain untold, and pray for them.
    • And please consider supporting those who are working to advocate to Government and to play their part in whatever consultations are to come. For example Ban Conversion Therapy Campaign or the Ozanne Foundation could really use your help and support.

    Many thanks to all difference-makers!