ViaMedia

Category: Spiritual Abuse

  • LLF – Waiting for Godot

    by Prof Helen King, Professor Emerita in Classical Studies at The Open University and member of Living in Love and Faith project

    So it’s over. The resources are published, the initial reactions registered.

    In the run-up to publication, there was the usual speculation on social media that this was all about “kicking things into the long grass”. Some were trying to guess the conclusion of the book as ‘let’s all reflect on this some more’, while others pointed out that we already knew this was how it would end, because the press release had said the resources only “initiate a process of whole Church learning and engagement, within a clear timeframe, that will contribute to the Bishops’ discernment of a way forward”.

    This, as Colin Coward has reminded us, is also how previous reports on LGBTQI+ questions have also ended. But LLF even starts with it: the page 3 ‘stunner’ is that LLF “offers no recommendations or guarantees of an agreed way forward for the Church in relation to human identity, sexuality, relationships and marriage”.

    So, what now? Or to put it another way, how long have you got?

    When I googled that phrase I was interested to find that it features as a “way of saying that you don’t want to talk or think about something”. And I wonder: are all these words, all these videos and podcasts, these exhortations to talk, paradoxically saying that the Church of England doesn’t want to talk about human sexuality?

    For those not in the LLF process, the last few years, waiting for the resources to be completed, have definitely been about not talking. “Waiting for LLF’ has meant not tabling at General Synod the Hereford Diocesan Synod motion asking for services of prayer and dedication for same-sex couples, and not issuing lists of resources for schools; the bishop who chairs the National Society Council said at the July 2019 General Synod that he “will await the publication of the Living in Love and Faith resources before considering next steps”. A similar answer was given to four questions on gender transition and Differences of Sex Development (DSD) at the February 2019 General Synod.

    Wait… wait… wait.. wait. And now the waiting ends: only to usher in another period of waiting.

    How many will use this waiting time to read the resources and to talk? I am sure that people will want to watch the videos of people who have views on sexuality different to their own: personal stories are always engaging. But will we really talk among ourselves as we wait?

    We are being asked to talk at all levels of the C of E from the House of Bishops to the deaneries and parishes: to “engage with this book and its accompanying resources and, as far as possible, do this together with those who have different perspectives and lived experiences” (p.420). Personally, I wouldn’t want to sit down with those whose “different perspectives” mean that they regard my sexuality as unacceptable; is this really a safe thing to do, in a church shown by IICSA and even more recently by the independent review into the horrific crimes at Maids Moreton to be a very unsafe place for those who aren’t heterosexual? Remember, this is a church in which most gay and lesbian bishops aren’t open about their sexuality. The Maids Moreton review notes that “Attitudes towards sex and sexuality” contributed to what happened there. And, still within my own diocese, a recent story on Oxford churches described how a discussion on sexuality turned out to be a talk on how the only option for a gay Christian was celibacy.

    Read the resources: yes. Talk about them in church groups: maybe not.

    There are also a lot of resources to use: a 468-page book, videos, podcasts, an online library. Does anyone have the time or the heart for this? There are so many resources that the Church Society has already said that it will be issuing its own “summaries and critiques of it all” for those who can’t face reading the report or watching the videos. The Church Society’s view is that this is “about the authority and sufficiency of God’s word”, about what happens “if we take the Bible seriously”.

    Not for the first time, I wonder what the point of three years spent working on LLF was; asking the church to engage with the materials, and then finding that the Church of England Evangelical Council instead recommends their own free 229-page book Glorify God in your Body (2018) and its study guide. Apparently “It covers all this ground, in a faithful and biblical way.”

    Hey, people. Don’t suggest to me that LLF isn’t ‘biblical’ or ‘Doesn’t take the Bible seriously’. It is, and it does. Of course it is and of course it does. It states that the Bible has “the central place in our accounts of how we hear the voice of God” (p.274): “God speaks to the world through the Bible” (p.276).

    Following on from the Shared Conversations resources, LLF acknowledges that one of the underlying questions that makes discussing sex so difficult is precisely that we don’t agree on how to read the Bible. It lays out the different approaches: the textual, historical and canonical contexts. It goes through the ‘clobber texts’. It fully acknowledges that we need to read the Bible, while accepting that there are – and always have been – different ways of doing this.

    LLF recognises that, in the C of E, we all need to realise that our readings of Scripture are partial, and come from our privilege as (mostly) “white, male, middle-class, affluent, and Western”: “if privileged readers want to be challenged to recognize their own partial perspectives, and to see how those have shaped their reading and thinking, and to be enabled to read and think past them, it makes sense to engage seriously with reading and thinking from the margins” (p.328).

    However, there aren’t any examples in the LLF book of such reading from the margins: as I said many times during meetings and in emails, while queer hermeneutics is mentioned and queer readings are mentioned as a concept which could cause “a transformative shock” (p.338), there isn’t a single example given of a queer reading of the Bible. If you aren’t aware of how differently the Bible was read in the past, try looking at the Church Fathers on Song of Songs.

    Saying that LLF isn’t ‘biblical’ is simply shorthand for prioritising one way of reading the Bible. One of the good things about LLF is the acknowledgement that this isn’t good enough.

    Already on social media I’ve encountered a number of LGBTQI+ people saying that they won’t be reading the LLF materials; maybe not until they are feeling stronger, maybe not at all. That’s hardly surprising, after the bruising they’ve already had from Christians or churches.

    The take-home message of LLF is that the bishops “do not agree on a number of matters relating to identity, sexuality, relationships and marriage … Most pressing among our differences are questions around same sex relationships, and we recognize that here decisions in several interconnected areas need to be made with some urgency” (p.422).

    “Urgency” is the right word. People are being belittled, damaged, rejected right now. Talking about these matters is not enough. For me, the most important question is how these “decisions” will be made.

  • Collusion, Hypocrisy & the Greasy Pole to Success

    by Dr Charlie Bell, Fellow at Girton College, Cambridge and ordinand at St Augustine’s College of Theology

    For those with ears to hear, the past few weeks have highlighted a very clear theme in the abuse scandal in the Church of England, whether that be in the IICSA report or the Diocese of Oxford’s review into the murder of a gay churchwarden of a ‘conservative’ church: it’s almost a truism – to quote Oxford’s review, ‘while people continue to feel forced to hide or lie about their sexuality, they can become vulnerable to exploitation’.

    The topic has been covered in an excellent blog by Prof Helen King on this site, yet the silence from the Church of England’s authorities is deafening. The Bishop of Oxford may have said that this was a ‘clarion call for improvements to our work on LGBTI+ inclusivity’, yet where have the great statements of repentance been from the House of Bishops?

    Same-sex spouses continue to be excluded from the Lambeth Conference, and meanwhile there hasn’t been a peep of recognition from the wing of the Church that would align itself with these ‘traditional’ views, with the usual woe-is-me ‘bullying’ accusations made yet again and again against people who honour the humanity of LGBT people. 

    It really is time for this to change.

    The lying, silence, dissembling and wink-wink nudge-nudge way of ‘managing’ homosexuality in Church circles is not only embarrassing, but a grave sin. It moves the church into a place of hypocrisy and collusion, and it is one we are far too willing to tolerate.

    After writing my last blog, I was told by a priest that it was a virtue to ‘tolerate hypocrisy’. By no means is this true – and what is more this is fundamentally different to recognising and living with paradox and different theological positions.

    We live in a Church that thrives on hypocrisy – where ordinands are told not to ‘rock the boat’ by being ‘too vocal’ about being LGBT, and where clergy have ‘special friends’ or ‘lodgers’. This pressure to dishonesty thus forms the backdrop for being LGBT in the Church, and it is hardly a surprise that such a culture can be manipulated by those who are looking for vulnerabilities in the system. That an elderly gay man was abused and murdered is not a shock – it is the inevitable result of a culture of lies.

    Anyone who is young, gay and in the Church has lived this reality; I am quite sure that other LGBT people similarly face the consequences of this culture. All of us know of the inappropriate clergy, the unacceptable taking of liberties that are just the right side of ‘explainable’, and the abuse of power by those in authority. Not being straight makes this whole structure a lot more threatening – not only because of the threats of ‘disclosure’ that can be made against you, but also because there is a deeper underlying culture of ‘being gay in the Church’ that is deeply damaging, and is directly the result of the tyranny of silence and lies.

    This culture is like something from the 1950s, where never a word is spoken about ‘the love that dares not speak its name’, where gay clergy form elaborate pretences and where public intimacy is frowned on and sex commodified. LGBT people are thus made both victim and perpetrator, and the culture continues to level its destruction. This culture blurs the line between acceptable and unacceptable, producing and hiding perpetrators of abuse.

    Of course, some clergy, like many others in society, need a level of discretion in consideration of elderly relatives or similar, such is the history of homophobia in this country (aided and abetted by the Church of England) – this is not the issue. Clergy who are not in this position and yet still deny their partners, or describe them as ‘special friends’, are, however, colluding in the toxic Church culture – as are leaders telling LGBT people to hide, or to ‘be careful about’ their true selves. We even have senior theological educators who actively sponsor and head up organisations that recommend heterosexual marriage to ‘same sex attracted’ people’ – and we wonder why we have a problem?

    Yet here is the Catch 22 – those who are honest end up losing their licences or being thrown out, whilst those who hide and collude climb up the greasy pole of promotion. This is the very culture that the actions and words of our bishops and other leaders are perpetuating. Power, lies, fear and opacity are a heady cocktail – and it is high time the church took some responsibility for sponsoring this scandal.

    Yet there is a desperation not to deal with this issue – how often have we heard that speaking out, or even simply being honest, will ‘embarrass the bishop’ or ‘bring the institution into disrepute’? Bishops seem very willing to talk about this issue and urge change over lasagne, yet are far too often silent at the Lord’s Table. Yet their silence and collusion, and that of those who continue to promulgate this culture of hypocrisy, is not only wrong, but sinful – abuse, threats and dishonour continue apace.

    Perceived unity is not more important than keeping people safe and treating them as human beings. The word ‘traditional’ cannot be used to cover evil. Any senior cleric reading this might want to ask themselves – have I done enough? Indeed, have I colluded, and what am I going to do about it?

    In Poland this last weekend, LGBT people – yet again the target of vicious hatred, abuse and oppression by a populist state – protested outside church property and called for an end to the church. The Polish Roman Catholic hierarchy have taken the side of the oppressor, and colluded with the state. In the UK, the state is light years ahead, yet the Church of England continues to sponsor and collude in a culture of hypocrisy.

    The only reason people aren’t protesting outside our buildings is because they’ve stopped listening – we are an irrelevance. The secular world has grasped the nettle and respected the dignity of LGBT people.

    There have been enough reports – it’s about time we started to listen to them, because until we do that, we are stopping the people’s ears and participating in dishonour.

  • World Without End…?

    by the Bishop of Buckingham, Rt Revd Dr Alan Wilson

    On 13 August 2012 ministry took a new path for me. A journalist had alerted me to untoward goings on in Sussex. Young peoples’ lives had been damaged. The Church shied away from taking proper responsibility. Survivors felt they were being treated as an embarrassment, sidelined then blocked.

    As a result, my colleague Revd Rosie Harper and I were invited to meet some of the people concerned and listen to their stories. When all is said and done the Church is a pastoral organisation. It exists to bring the grace and truth of Christ to a generation within its care. This calling had been massively betrayed, and I felt ashamed of the Church I represent.  Things had to change.

    More and more people were getting in touch. Very often what they craved was someone to listen to their story and take it seriously. I realised that very often the most healing thing was truth about what had actually happened and, above all, honesty.

    One emerging common theme shocked us. Male or female, high or low, recent or not, every person we listened to told us things had got worse for them after they reported.

    In 2013 Pope Francis saw the Church as a field hospital. Imagine a field hospital in which all the wounded soldiers leave more shot up than they were when brought in. That couldn’t be entirely their fault.

    I was comforted in July 2013, though, by our new archbishop’s recognition of the problem. He apologised and seemed to understand the systemic dimension of our failings as he articulated for General Synod “a profound theological point. We are not doing all this – we are not seeking to say how devastatingly, appallingly, atrociously sorry we are for the great failures there have been, for our own sakes, for our own flourishing, for the protection of the Church. We are doing this because we are called to live in the justice of God and we will each answer to him for our failures in this area”.

    Time passed by. Budgets for training and advisers began to grow. I was encouraged.

    In 2015 our archbishop told us “We failed big time, we can do nothing other than confess our sin, repent and commit ourselves to being different in the years ahead.”

    Time passed by. A new project was in the air, collaboratively developed with survivors — “Safe Spaces”

    2017 seemed less hopeful. News broke of John Smyth’s sadistic abuse of teenage boys whose trust he had betrayed as he blighted their lives. But at any rate the Archbishop was still sorry. We were told he “apologises unequivocally and unreservedly to all survivors.”

    January 2018 saw preliminary hearings of the Independent Inquiry into Child Sex Abuse. Rightly, our Archbishop had lined up the Church for early examination, a brave and honourable act.

    And when the atrocious Chichester tale was revealed, giving substance to what we had heard on 13 August 2012, we were as sorry as he:

    “You can apologise and apologise to survivors, and I would want to put on record again — I don’t know how to express it adequately — how appalled I am and ashamed I am of the Church for what it did.”

    Time Passed by.

    More money was spent, training improved and Safe Spaces underwent a reboot and would soon start for real. That was the good story. We continued to hear not so good stories from survivors, all of whom wished they never had reported to Church authorities.

    We wrote a book, taking survivor experience seriously across a very broad spectrum of church abuse. We tried to understand the roots and cultural context of our failures, and proposed a fresh approach. It was mentioned by enough survivors for IICSA to call for material from it as evidence in 2019.

    When our archbishop read the latest IICSA report last week, he was still sorry not only for what had happened but for the Church’s failure to respond pastorally.  “We cannot and will not make excuses, and I must again offer my sincere apologies to those who have been abused.”

    After 8 years of sorry, then, from our Archbishop at least if not others, how do I feel about the post-IICSA future?

    I am encouraged to see that our new Archbishop of York whom I like and respect very much as a former close colleague, is sorry too. He said on national radio how shocked he was by the report. Rosie pointed out he’d known about what was in it for years.

    He replied personally “Shocked to read it again, Rosie. I suppose what I’m saying is I hope I’ll never stop being shocked and distressed until we have changed. I am in a position to really help make that change. I am determined to do so. And quickly.”

    I am sure he will be supported, as will survivors, by Rt Revd Jonathan Gibbs, the Church’s new safeguarding bishop. Not only in General synod, but in a really helpful Religion Media Centre IICSA report briefing with survivors and advocates, Jonathan clearly demonstrates fresh commitment to drive change at every level.

    Oh, and Safe Spaces actually started, albeit with a few learner driver’s kangaroo jumps, on 29 September 2020.

    I return to Archbishop Justin’s words in 2012. But… How long O Lord?

    Jesus said “If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.”

    Martin Luther King said “It is always the right time to do the right thing.”

    Rosie and I have met many survivors, courageous and wise people, who have often tolerated years of being ignored, patronised, lied to and blamed. They feel they have been going round and round in circles for ever.

    After multiple forced apologies from a surprisingly small selection of bishops, a few training and cosmetic changes have happened at vast cost. Dr Josephine Stein reminds us this all dwarfs provision for survivors. Then somehow all the regret ends up back the too-difficult box…  until the next shameful revelation.

    As it was in 2012, is now…. and ever shall be? world without end? Really?

  • Safeguarding, ‘Reabuse’ and LGBT People

    by the Revd Canon Simon Butler, Prolocutor of the Province of Canterbury and member of the Archbishops’ Council

    Last Tuesday was perhaps the most shameful day in the history of the Church of England for hundreds of years. Forensically, the Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse (IICSA) catalogued the personal and institutional generational failures which led to the sexual abuse of children and vulnerable adults by people in trusted positions in the Church. Whilst many say that the failure to address this issue over decades amounts to ‘reabuse’, some even saying that it is worse than the sexual offences once committed, none of us can escape the responsibility that this has taken place on our watch and that we have the duty to put it right. Some are even calling for a Truth and Reconciliation process like that of post-apartheid South Africa. It’s an idea worth exploring.

    I was struck therefore by a forceful response to what seemed to me to be sincere statement of sympathy for survivors and victims of sexual abuse by Bishop Sarah Mullally from one of her priests in the Diocese of London. Father Robert Thompson described Sarah’s words on Twitter as ‘virtue signalling vacuousness’, pointing out that he has raised 4 safeguarding concerns with the Diocese of London concerning the treatment of LGBTI+ church members in some evangelical and charismatic congregations and has not had a proper response to any one of them. Lest this should seem like special pleading from him (or me) for a particular group within the life of the Church of which we are part, we should note that the IICSA report makes specific what we have known for a long time: that our hypocrisy and dishonesty about sexuality has without doubt contributed to the culture in which sexual (and I would say) emotional and spiritual abuse has been allowed to exist.

    To be fair, however, we must not assume that being LGBTI+ in and of itself makes one a vulnerable adult in safeguarding terms. Still, for as long as I can remember I have had to listen to simply dreadful stories emerging from certain evangelical and charismatic churches, usually when a church member comes out or refuses to toe the line taken by ‘the leadership’ (which usually means the clergy). They find themselves silenced, removed from every ministry and leadership role, and generally treated like pariahs. The failure of many of these congregations to be able to discuss matters of sexuality or to live with diverse opinions has wreaked a dreadful emotional toll on many LGBTI+ church members and has contributed to what can only be described as a culture of fear, the subtle and overt withholding of love or placing conditions on it, and silencing of dissent. It is, by any stretch of the imagination, a form of abuse. 

    Some within the tradition have felt uncomfortable about this for a long time. David Runcorn, a long-standing and respected Evangelical theological educator and spiritual director, has attempted to provide an Evangelical theological narrative based on openness, generosity (including to those who take a conservative view) and pastoral care. His recently-published Love Means Love addresses these concerns with an eirenic spirit that is admirable and biblical, although as a straight man he cannot necessarily summon the sense of righteous anger that those of us who see the damaged lives that have resulted do. Other evangelicals within General Synod, effectively kicked out of the Evangelical Group in General Synod (EGGS) for simply wanting to explore a line similar to Runcorn’s, have coalesced into a new group in which a different, honest expression of dissent can be aired, within a caring atmosphere far different from the stifling atmosphere of EGGS which, over my twelve years as a member, became increasingly reminiscent of a Soviet-style party meeting. It gives me no pleasure to admit I often felt afraid. Father Thompson notes the way in which especially some large churches in this tradition use their financial clout to exert leverage over dioceses: do what we want, or else, is the message.

    The tragedy for the Church of England is that there is much within evangelical and charismatic traditions that the rest of the Church of England desperately needs. Missional zeal, social justice and deep personal faith were once the hallmarks of Evangelicalism, things that attracted me to Christian faith, even if these days I feel excluded from the evangelical tradition. Ever the optimist, I remain hopeful that the tradition most committed to the theological concepts of personal sin and repentance can see the beam in its own eye instead of projecting it onto its LGBTI+ members and their friends. Some of those most urging change in the Church’s traditional position are senior evangelical bishops who have come to see that for themselves.

    In the meantime, we await the publication of Living in Love and Faith. I am committed to the process, more perhaps than many sceptics among the LGBTI+ community in the Church. But even I want to sound a word of warning. As we engage with scripture, science, theology and much more in the months ahead, we must not forget that, within parts of the evangelical and charismatic wings of our church, brothers and sisters face emotional and spiritual abuse. Conservatives and hard-liners within these traditions will want to focus on the intellectual issues – many will immediately want to rebut anything that smacks of a chink in the wall. But we must hold them and the wider church to account for this often unacknowledged abuse that is being inflicted in the name of “truth” and “sound doctrine” – including persuading those like Bishop Sarah who are I think very sensitive to issues of abuse that this is unfinished safeguarding business. I urge her and other bishops to take seriously the sort of allegations and concerns that Father Thompson has raised. There are plenty more where they came from.

    We must not forget those who are most vulnerable to bad religion and who remain at risk of the ongoing abuse that has shamed the church so obviously in recent days, and continues to do so where so-called ‘truth’ silences love. As I said at Archbishops’ Council recently, any defence of the gospel or the church that sees that as more important than protecting the vulnerable will lead us back to the place we are being shamed into leaving hopefully once and for all. Ironically, the evidence of such abuse is the clearest example of why the theological position held by conservatives is biblically untenable. 

    By your fruits you shall know them.

  • Resignations, Dysfunctionality and the House of Bishops

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

    I resigned from my Bishop’s Council this week.

    The decision has been a long time coming – I’ve felt I’ve been hitting my head against a brick wall over our failure to prioritise the poor and disadvantaged, especially given we are such a rich diocese, for years. In fact, I’ve been banging the drum since I got onto Council five years ago. Interestingly, even though we constantly rated serving the poor in our diocese as a “the top priority” during our discussions, it rarely seemed to make the cut into any paperwork . In virtually every meeting I can remember I have had to remind those in authority of the commitments we had agreed as a Council.

    I realised things would never change when after one Diocesan Synod meeting I was told, when the priority yet again failed to be mentioned to those gathered, that it was because it was too long to fit on the slide! All rather ironic given that we’d just had a report that emphasised the real issue in our diocese was that of “hidden poverty”!

    In truth, I know I was as tired of banging my drum as Council members were of hearing it.

    So, eventually, it got to the point where I felt that the best way for them to hear me was by my absence. You see, sometimes leaving is the only way left for people to be heard….

    Since I resigned, I’ve been reflecting on why it is so difficult for those in the central Church or Diocesan structures to hear what those outside or on the fringes of the Church see as completely obvious. It came into sharp focus again this week with the IICSA report which stated what so many of us have been saying for some time now – that we need a completely independent safeguarding system in the Church in order for it to be fully functional.

    I have decided that the real problem is that our boards and councils are populated by mostly white, mostly male, mostly middle class and mostly middle aged (and that’s being kind) people who all hold virtually the same world view – and who are incapable of recognising that there is legitimacy to any other view other than their own. Because they all end up endorsing each other, they confirm their own legitimacy, and nothing therefore ever changes.

    That’s why we find it difficult to embrace those from other backgrounds – those that are different to the monochrome “norm” that the Church of England has built into the warp and weft of its very foundations. You just have to look at the make up of General Synod to see what I mean.

    It is why we’ve an appalling record on nearly every measure of diversity – we are seen by those “on the outside and margins” as racist, sexist, homophobic and transphobic. We are outrageously bad at dealing with people with differing abilities too. Although it’s “not good show” of course for us to admit this in public.

    And what does this “monochrome” system result in? Well, I won’t be popular in saying this, but I believe this ultimately results in the single most critical problem for us as a Church. It’s the real root of most of our problems, which few are prepared to admit let alone publicly name – it is that we have a leadership structure that is, I’m afraid to say, deeply dysfunctional. It seems our House of Bishops operates like a boys public school, with prefects and head boys who whip the younger boys (and they are of course mostly boys!) into line. It may seem like the body that so many aspire to, but once you’re there you get sucked into colluding with a system that few feel able to break free from. Although thankfully, there are some brave individuals who do.

    It is interesting to question why so few have called this out publicly over all these years?

    Especially given that to many of us on the outside and fringes this dysfunction is plain to see. We have bishops leading double lives, which no one seems to bother about or challenge. We have bishops preaching one thing and practicing another, particularly when it comes to the way in which they treat LGBT+ clergy in their midst. We have bishops who lament safeguarding failures, but whose own record is pretty poor. It all leads to a postcode lottery, which everyone knows about but no one does anything about because they (we?) have all got too much to lose…or worse, that they don’t think that somehow anyone will notice.

    But we do, and we all know. The charade was up a long time ago.

    It’s just like my own experience with Bishop’s Council – no one can be bothered to bang the drum any more. We are resigned to letting it all continue, with no one rocking the boat.

    But time is running out. Many are tiring of this game. And they’re leaving.

    So much so that soon the primary problem won’t be the fear of people rocking the boat, but rather the fear of ensuring that there are still people who are prepared to sail in it!

    So reform is needed – and it needs to start at the top.

    The House of Bishops is about to release resources for the Church of England to engage with over sexuality. What they seem to have failed to see (again!) is that the vast majority of people in the pews made up their minds about LGBT issues long ago….what they’re waiting for is for the House of Bishops to finally do so themselves. And to do so in a way that has some credibility.

    So it’s time the House of Bishops had an OFSTED inspection. They need to turn the mirror on themselves and take a long hard look at what they see. They need to be honest about their dysfunctionality, their divisions and their double standards.

    Miracles can happen – and with God’s grace this might just be one of them. Goodness knows we need it!

  • One for All and All for One?

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

    The words which bind together Alexander Dumas’ Three Musketeers are also the unofficial motto of Switzerland, and date back at least to Shakespeare. It might well be a Christian motto too, echoing Paul’s reference to Jesus’ cross and resurrection (‘one has died for all’, 2 Corinthians 5.14) and affirming our loyalty to him, and to one another as members of Christ’s body.

    But it’s not a motto which the Church is or has been good at living out. The COVID-19 pandemic, Extinction Rebellion, Black Lives Matter and Living in Love and Faith together open a window of opportunity – of necessity – for the Church to do things differently. We are offered the chance to live radically with difference. But will we take it?

    In his September 15th blog on Via Media, Charlie Bell highlighted the importance of ‘intersectionality’ and that the Church has largely ignored it. Most people, including many Christians, will be unaware of the word (I had to look it up!). But nearly all of us, whether Christian or not, are caught up in what it refers to. Formally, it means the interconnection of various forms of oppression. That’s often what people experience: for example, an older black trans working-class person living in poverty suffers in themselves the intersection of multiple discriminations and oppression.

    But as Charlie Bell noted, this also applies to struggles for justice. Solidarity together by those oppressed in different ways is a powerful response, affirming intersectionality. Think of Desmond Tutu’s ‘Rainbow Nation’ and the welcome given to gay people as well as people of all colours – though this isn’t a welcome affirmed by the whole Church. Which is why the Church is perceived as oppressive: because it divides people and makes different rules to apply to them. On ‘theological’ or ‘practical’ grounds we split up those who are discriminated against – by the Church and by others – into different categories. We encourage them to remain in their boxes as individual problems to be solved, rather than taking the risk of helping them come together to work for shared love and justice for all God’s people, of whatever age, sex, gender, race, (dis)ability, sexual orientation, marital status or belief.

    There’s nothing new in this. The New Testament offers the picture of a Church called to live in radical love and justice, preaching the gospel of God’s loving salvation for all equally, living together in mutual love; and at the same time the picture of a Church struggling to make this real in practice. Whether it’s the book of Acts describing Palestinian and Hellenist Jewish believers squabbling over money in Jerusalem, or tensions between Gentiles and Jews in the early churches; or Paul addressing disunity in Corinth and elsewhere; or John writing about God’s love while excluding others from that love – the Church has had to work hard, and often failed, to transcend the social divisions and prejudices of the world around it, and has too often aided and abetted oppression rather than brought justice and love.

    Ask black people about the churches’ role in profiting from slavery and its support for the injustices of the British Empire in the past, and their experiences of racism in churches in the present. Ask working-class people of any colour about how welcome they feel their ministry is to the church. Ask women, gay and trans people how they feel about churches continuing to exercise institutional discrimination against them. Ask the survivors of abuse in the churches how they have been treated by the systems meant to protect them.

    How do we do it differently and together: ‘One for all and all for one’? The Living in Love and Faith (LLF) process in the Church of England is an opportunity to work in an intersectional way, and open up the conversation to include people of disability, people of non-white colour and non-middle class background, women in ministry and those who don’t believe they should be there – and of course LGBTI+ people who have often felt marginalised and excluded. But that requires local churches to not only own and take part in the LLF process, but to use it to listen and respond positively to all who have experienced structural oppression in church life, and look at how to work for justice not only within the church but also in the structures of society.

    In a recent newspaper article the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London wrote of the need for local decision-making, with central authority doing only what it has to do. It was written against the background of disquiet about central Church of England guidance about responding to the coronavirus, to reaffirm the importance of parishes and local Christian communities in living out the Gospel of Christ locally in practical as well as spiritual ways. And if local churches don’t take seriously the issues of oppression and social justice, then whatever archbishops may say, the Church of England as a whole will continue to relinquish its role and mar its commendation of the Christian gospel to the nation.

    The point of being local, and maintaining thriving local churches, isn’t to perpetuate the existence of the church; it’s to transform people’s lives and the life of society – to do justice and love kindness and walk humbly with the Lord. Together. One for all and all for one.

  • Secrecy and an Unaccountable Church of England

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

    Honestly, it drives me mad!

    When I first became a member of General Synod over ten years ago I was very taken with the idea that anyone could ask a question and the person responsible for that area of church life would be required to reply both to the question and the supplementary. It looked to me like a way of ensuring accountability. 

    What I quickly discovered is that it’s actually a game of manners in which carefully briefed bishops very effectively shut down any probing or awkward questions. There are basically variants of three answers: ‘This is work in progress’; ‘We don’t collect that data’; ‘It’s confidential.’

    It mirrors the whole world of General Synod which, apart from the odd little rush of blood to the head, is very carefully managed to create the illusion of accountability without the reality.

    So yes!  It makes me mad. So much so that I’m not going to stand again. It has, however, got me thinking about accountability as a Christian concept.

    In February 2020 I asked the following question: “In the light of a figure of £200 million mentioned by Bishop Peter Hancock to survivors, how much money has actually been allocated in the AC or CC budget this year and next, specifically for the care and restorative justice of survivors of clergy abuse?” 

    The reply was that they were working on it and waiting for the IICSA report to tell them what to do! Not even a hint of any figures and zero accountability.

    However…..

    John Spence, the chair of the finance committee was clearly deeply moved and memorably spoke from the floor promising that funds would be found for compensation payments, saying: “This is not about affordability, it is about justice. Justice cannot have a different value depending on the finances of this or that diocese. Whatever we are told is required … for redress, then those funds will be found,”

    So, is this actually happening? Can we hold even the revered John Spence to account?

    In the absence of any figures whatsoever Dr Josephine Stein used her research skills to put together an educated estimate. The opening sentence of the Church Times article about her work says it all: ‘Survivors of abuse in a church context receive about £55,000 in redress in from the Church of England out of an estimated £20 million spent on safeguarding annually.’ (CT 19.08.2020)

    It would seem that John Spence’s pockets were not that deep after all. Survivors are still on the bread line. They are unable to work, have exhausted their life savings and are still given a poxy £500 upper limit for counselling after life changing trauma.

    There are no other ways we lesser mortals can ask the Church of England to follow through with its promises – that’s why it drives me mad.

    The really interesting thing, once you start thinking about it, is that accountability should be an attitude of life – a cast of the heart. There are all sorts of legal backstops to ensure financial accountability. People make it their life’s work and call themselves “accountants” after all! Genuine accountability is far more to do with the nature of the relationship you think you have with others. I hold myself accountable to my husband, to my family, because I love them. We consider one another equal and would not abuse power or money. If one of us messed up we’d try and fix it and be genuinely sorry. This requires truth telling and openness and transparency not secrecy and silence.

    Whilst writing this blog a rather excellent MA thesis landed on my desk. It’s about the use of Non Disclosure Agreements in Religious Institutions. Ben Nicholson successfully demonstrates that: ‘NDAs actively prevent transparency, truthfulness, accountability, reconciliation and restored relationships through a combination of intimidation and enforced silence.’ They also, he continues: ‘discriminate in favour of the powerful, enabling them to avoid being held accountable for wrongdoing and require the complicity of other powerful people.’

    I recognise that. When I asked about the Church of England’s use of NDAs the reply was: “We can’t tell you that – it’s secret!”

    So yes!  It drives me mad!

    It doesn’t need to be like that! As Bishop’s chaplain I have been to more licensing services than I care to remember, when a new person is legally made the vicar of a parish. To this day I am struck afresh by a particular moment, after the bishop has read out the terms of the license, when the piece of paper is handed over from the bishop to the priest with the words ‘receive the cure of souls which is both yours and mine….’ And Bishop Alan always says: ‘I hold myself as accountable to you as you are to me. The scripture teaches mutual accountability…….’ 

    Experience tell me that is not a common attitude.

    What’s more Scripture  teaches us that we are accountable to God through one another. The way we treat one another is the litmus test of the authenticity of our faith.

    As we hold our breath for the “Living in Love and Faith” document whose genesis has also been shrouded in secrecy, can we expect something different? Will the authors hold themselves as accountable to the LGBTI+ members of our Church as they do the powerful conservative lobby!?

    Unaccountable power is dangerous. To sustain it there needs to be secrecy. However, it won’t last forever for: ‘Things hidden will become clear and every secret thing will be made known.’ (Luke 8.17)  

    Secrecy and accountability can’t co-exist.

  • Trauma & Tragedy in Congregations & Communities

    by the Revd Hilary Ison, Project Team Member for Trauma and Tragedy in Congregations

    Hilary Ison

    The local church often finds itself at the centre of response in situations of tragedy and trauma, ‘opening the doors’ of the church for refuge for frontline responders, providing sacred space for gathering and vigil, or providing practical support and supplies for the local community.

    In order to help understand how best to equip churches to deal with this the Templeton World Charities Foundation agreed to fund a three year project led by Professor Christopher Southgate, to research how best to prepare and train ministers to lead congregations in times of tragedy and trauma.  The small project team, of which I am pleased to be a part, brought together various specialisms: the Bible and Trauma, Christian theodicy, practical and pastoral theology, and embodied and systemic approaches to ministry.  As such we have been able to offer various training days and have published a book (for more info www.tragedyandcongregations.org.uk).

    It seems now more than ever it is important to understand how we respond in situations of trauma so we can help each other navigate our way through these uncharted waters.

    At the start of the lock-down stage in Britain our project team therefore gathered virtually (!) with other specialists in trauma studies to think about how the learning from our project applied to the Covid-19 crisis.  This resulted in a short document (see below), which was produced with ministers in mind, but can be used by anyone in leadership.

    Before reading it, it is important to remember that we are in it for the long haul with this present Covid-19 crisis.  We will need to build new things, new ways of being and of doing, new understandings and connections as we emerge from trauma.

    The thoughts that follow are offered to help navigate this process:

    Thoughts for Ministers during the First Phase of the Coronavirus Crisis

    We are offering these out of the work of a three-year project on trauma and tragedy in Christian congregations.

    First thought: context is everything.
    You will know better than anyone else how your particular community is likely to react.

    Second: this is a trauma to communities, the nation, the world.
    It’s not a shock-event like a fire or a terrorist attack, but slowly there has built, and is still worsening, a crisis that shatters people’s assumptions that the world is generally safe and reliable, and that all that we have worked for in businesses, churches and communities will be fruitful.  The loss of those assumptions, the breaking of connections between people, and the overwhelming of people’s ordinary resources – all of these are characteristic of trauma.

    Some of the wisdom that has been gained about trauma recently can help us:

    1. People’s whole selves are affected – they may feel all sorts of strange symptoms because the body is reacting to the fact that they are not safe. Emotions will be all over the place in surprising ways. Concentration may be difficult. Sharing this information – that it is normal to be up, down, energetic, exhausted, afraid – will help people to cope with it.
    2. People react very differently depending on different backgrounds and experiences, including past traumas.
    3. People respond best when they have clear, reliable information; when they have something to do – ‘agency’ of some sort; and when they are cared for in warm and authentic ways. Even phone calls can be reassuring.
    4. We make sense of things by being able to integrate the experience into an overarching story. But it is much too soon to assemble a coherent narrative out of all this. Even the process of meaningfully gathering together to lament what has been lost is very hard. The trauma is unfolding and there are many losses yet unrevealed

    Community responses to disaster typically show a ‘heroic phase’, full of energy and self-sacrifice, which burns itself out and is followed by a ‘disillusionment phase’, which may contain much mutual blame and suspicion. Only as the disillusionment phase loses its force can realistic, hopeful re-making take place.

    Many of the responses in communities can be celebrated and affirmed. It is worth ministers thinking about what, over and above the generous and heroic actions of many in the secular world, Christian story and practice can contribute. That is particularly true in this time approaching Holy Week and Easter. Public worship may be suspended, but these great transformative moments in the whole human story need some sort of marking.

    Lastly and in a way most importantly, this is a very confusing and draining time, a time when ordinary healthy rhythms are lost.  Trauma professionals are disoriented!

    You may be feeling in yourself and your body the impact of trauma – feeling low and anxious one day and hard to get your brain in gear, energetic the next, and all at a time when clergy are needing to be creative and adaptive in their approach. So self-care, attending to your own well-being, is vital. That includes the basics of good rest, eating, and exercise. It also includes having people you trust whom you can share with, and making sure you are in touch with them.

    With warmest wishes for every blessing in this strange time,

    Christopher Southgate, Carla Grosch-Miller and Hilary Ison, Tragedies and Christian Congregations Project 

    Download this Summary Sheet

    Tragedies and Christian Congregations ed. Megan Warner et al is published by Routledge
    and is available from c.c.b.southgate@ex.ac.uk for £20 plus postage.

     

     

     

     

  • The Whitewashing of Spiritual Leaders – Is Vanier Like Weinstein?

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

    Rosie Haarper

    It is old news now. As it broke there was a surprising amount of interest in the media about the finding that Jean Vanier was a serial abuser. Multiple articles in secular and religious press, Thought for the Day on R4, thousands of words were written as people processed the information. Vanier was the founder of L’Arche an international federation of communities for people with disabilities and those whom work with them. He was, for many, a spiritual giant.

    We heard about Jean Vanier on February 22nd and two days later Harvey Weinstein was convicted of two counts of sexual assault.

    Vanier abused at least 6 women over a period of 35 years. Weinstein also abused women, eighty women lodged complaints, over a period of at least 30 years. Vanier abused through spiritual and emotional power, gaining control over women via their faith. Weinstein abused his power as the most influential producer in Hollywood, controlling women’s career and reputation.

    On the surface these are not dramatically different cases. Surely both men were abusive b**tards?

    However the stories didn’t unfold that way.

    There was zero compassion or understanding for Weinstein. Identified in the red-hot period of the ‘#MeToo’ movement he has come to represent the archetypal abusive male. The women who had been abused took centre stage and were praised for their courage in disclosing what happened and pursuing it to the end. He is now in jail with a 29 year sentence which may well be extended after the California case is concluded.

    The response to Vanier was different. Firstly, he is dead. Such was his power that those he abused didn’t succeed, if indeed they tried, to get a criminal case underway. Secondly the response, at least in the religious press has been very much about the pain of the people who were not the primary victims. The headline in The Tablet ‘The truth that breaks your heart.’

    Giles Fraser: ‘A few days ago, the l’Arche community published a report, the result of an internal inquiry, in which Jean Vanier was exposed as a sexual predator. And I have been reeling from it ever since. The sense of disappointment is crushing. I don’t want to write about it. I’m not sure how to write about it. I feel I have to write about it.’

    Revd Dr Sam Wells: “I don’t have a lot of heroes, but Jean Vanier was one of them. Near the top of the list. It turns out that while he was doing so many beautiful and true things, he was also doing many deeply ugly and profoundly shameful things.” Sam goes on to be very realistic about the abuse and doesn’t do a white wash job at all – his is an excellent article, but even he manages to put his own personal hero worship into the mix.

    The survivor’s voices are not heard.

    There may be many quite understandable reasons for this, but it immediately reminded me of the many, many years when survivors were talked about but never heard in the CofE.

    The other strand of reaction is about L’Arche. There is rightly a separation between Vanier and the work of the communities, but there is also a primary concern for its reputation and indeed its very survival. This again is highly reminiscent of the CofE’s response to abuse cases within its own institution.

    For me the image that encapsulates this is the weeping apology. The survivor has every right to weep, but when the apology comes with tears it deflects attention and even sympathy from the truly needy person onto the apologist and the institution.

    How about we don’t mess around with all this subtle spiritual stuff at all? All the waffle about how we are all fallen, and about how much good even a sinner can do when blessed by God. How about it we have the courage to treat Weinstein and Vanier the same?

    They are both creepy abusive b**tards who have done grave personal damage to people who trusted them. We may even at some level be able to forgive them although that surely is the business of their victims, but lets not pretend that a holy abuser is any less gross than an unholy one.

    I’m not convinced that after all this time we ‘get’ safeguarding.

    We still resist truly independent scrutiny. L’Arche, to their credit, did not mark their own homework . We still talk about survivors far more than we talk with them. We still make them feel as if they are the enemy when they turn to the Church for help. We still moan and groan about the training we have to do.

    Instead of calling safeguarding ‘the bane of my life’ as one bishop reportedly did, lets strain every nerve and sinew to ensure that we never again have to talk about the scale of abuse that either Weinstein or Vanier were able to perpetrate.

    WATCH HERE – Canon Rosie Harper gave a memorable speech on Safeguarding at General Synod in February 2020, which received sustained applause.

  • Love, Sex, Hypocrisy & Power

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

    Jayne Ozanne new

    Abridged version of speech to William Temple Association, Bournemouth given on February 3rd 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.