ABUSE of others is the absolute opposite of the good news of salvation in Jesus Christ: that is why it is especially shocking when it is perpetrated within God’s Church. The Church of England (and it is not alone) has failed to respond to the scandal of abuse for many reasons.
In particular, too many people still believe in the “bad apple” argument: the position that the system is fine, and it’s just a few people misusing it who are the problem; so, policing the existing system properly will solve the problem. I think that that is completely wrong: the system itself is dysfunctional. The ways in which power is distributed and used within the Church have been, and will continue to be, a breeding ground for abusive behaviour. The only solution is a radical rethink.
The problem is power, and the structures of the Church continue to invest too much of it in the clergy. The solution is not to try to get rid of power, as if that were possible; power is not a bad thing, as Jesus’s ministry shows us. But power is dangerous, and too much of it very dangerous indeed.
It is not by accident that Jesus uses the language of “leadership” only once, at Luke 22.26: “But not so with you; rather the greatest among you must become like the youngest, and the leader like one who serves.” What we need is servant leadership. By that, I do not mean leaders who have all the power but are very nice about it. Servant leadership will happen only when those who are leaders have to serve — and that means divorcing the leadership of the ordained from certain forms of power.
THE calling to ordained ministry should be open only to those who are willing to give up their vote in church decision-making, to give up sitting on synods (of which we need far fewer), chairing PCCs, and being the decision-makers about other people’s lives.
Formation for ordained ministry should continue to focus on introducing ordinands to scripture and tradition, but with a new focus: to develop the skills that will enable them to make the space within which church members can exercise the gifts given to them at their baptism. That ministry has at its heart teaching, liturgical presidency, and pastoral care — which is what most clergy feel called to do, but not what they spend most of their time doing. But this is pastoral care with a difference: it involves knowing how to enable the weak to take their place at the table, and prevent the strong from overwhelming them, and all this without being able just to tell people what to do.
Ordained ministers would not decide policy or make the decisions about who should do this or that or administer reward or punishment. All of those tasks should be held collectively by the people of God, as much as possible through direct decision-making. On its own, this will not solve the Church’s problems: even without decision-making authority, the clergy will have personal power that is open to abuse, and, among God’s people, power-hungry groups or individuals will always be around to try to hijack the system.
So, how might a Church structured in this way be less open to abuse than we are now?
What I am suggesting is a Church with mutual care (or, if you like, supervision) built in. Among the functions of the clergy would be the prophetic task of calling out when things are going wrong, and particularly when the Church is being undermined by those who are looking to make it a platform for their own power, whether over individuals or the whole body.
Among the responsibilities held by the lay people of God would be making decisions, including the responsibility for discipline in the Church. Safeguarding would truly be everyone’s business, not merely as a moral exhortation, but because the maintenance of the Church’s life would be a responsibility of the Church as a whole.
The task of the clergy would be to ensure that the most vulnerable were included as equals in the life of the Church and able to speak for themselves. It would be clear that the clergy were not their own police, as the power would not be in their hands to make the necessary decisions when abuse was discerned. They would be obliged to report, and keep on prophetically calling out abuses as they saw them; but it would be for others to manage the disciplinary system.
THE Makin review focuses on abuse perpetrated by someone who was not ordained, and, as far as has been reported, was outside the parochial system (News, 15 November).
So, would what I am proposing have made a difference? I think that it would have done — and well before the first cover-up in 1982. If the clergy who oversaw the Iwerne camps had been exercising this sort of ministry, I believe that Smyth would have been unmasked for what he was, very quickly and, perhaps, even before he could begin his career of abuse. We can never know, of course. Given the ingenuity of evil, we can never expect to stop every potential abuser before they act. But I think that what I have proposed would be a big step along the way.
My hope is that this very different way of ordering the Church would be much more than a defensive reaction to our failures. I believe that embracing this way of living together would also model to the world something that the Church has never done before, at least since the first community in Acts: that the gospel of Jesus Christ changes everything — even (especially) the way in which we live together in community. In a world that sees little difference between the Church and any other institution, it would be a powerful witness to the transformative power of the gospel.
The Rt Revd Jonathan Clark, a former Bishop of Croydon, is the Bishop for the Falklands and an assistant bishop in the diocese of Lichfield.