Time for the C of E's Reformation

A General Synod vote shows just how much we've lost the plot, writes George Pitcher

General Synod is very often called the Church of England’s parliament. But it really isn’t. A parliament has a government and a party or parties of opposition. At Synod, there are opposing voices, but they’re all meant essentially to be on the same side.

This may go some way to explaining why, extraordinarily to many minds outside of it, Synod has just voted overwhelmingly against oversight for its safeguarding being transferred to a separate, secular regulatory body. Or, more accurately, it has voted by substantial majority for an amendment that diocesan and cathedral safeguarding be retained for the time being until legal options are further explored.

This decision is variously described as disappointing, capricious, complacent and “a punch in the gut” to survivors of sexual and other abuses by the Church, fresh instances of which seem to come around as regularly as the Church’s liturgical seasons.

General Synod: Talking to themselves

It’s a challenge for those of us outside Synod to begin to understand how its members think this makes them look. They may not believe so, but optics are important. After the monstrous revelations of the abuses of John Smyth and David Tudor, to name just two, the former of which forced the resignation of Justin Welby, the first effective firing of an Archbishop of Canterbury in modern history, those who lead the Church of England think it’s perfectly okay for them to continue marking their own homework.

A revolting litany of crimes and cover-ups

To say this isn’t good enough is a bit like saying that President Donald Trump could do a bit better than pardoning himself of all his previous felonies and misdemeanours. Even after all the Church has been through, its whole revolting litany of crimes and cover-ups – we’re looking at you, Stephen Cottrell, Archbishop of York – it continues to believe that it remains its own best judge and still well placed to put its own house in order. Wow, just wow.

For those grievously affected by abuse, but also for those who observe the institution with objective scrutiny, this is a public glimpse of the arrogance that has contributed so significantly to this Church’s crisis.

There is an alternative view

It must be acknowledged here that there is an alternative view. This is well espoused by the church affairs commentator, Andrew Brown. In summary, which I hope is fair, it’s that bishops, clergy and their laity are not all bad people – very few of them are – and there’s no evidence a secular body would do a better job of safeguarding. To which might be added that the Church should be made to clean up its own mess, since it’s not an incapable puppy that can’t.

I would reply with three points. I accept that there is an “otherness” to the Church of England; it is not like other institutions. But that’s not a get-out-of-jail-free card. Where is our public scrutiny?

The Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse (IICSA) reported in 2022. But it was nothing like the indictment inflicted by the inquiry into the Post Office’s horrific historic treatment of its staff, which was arguably a comparable safeguarding issue. It is surely coincidence that the Post Office was substantially led during this period by Anglican priest Paula Vennells – another, wholly odious, example of “otherness” when it comes to managerialism.

Where is the Church’s humility?

Precisely in that context, we need to ask where the Church’s humility is, where its self-sacrificial nature? To be Christ-like is to stand before Pontius Pilate compliantly and peacefully, facing worldly judgment. In the Nazarene’s case, this was to face completely unjust, trumped-up charges. Is it too much to ask of his Church, facing rather more just charges, that it offers to give up its safeguarding responsibilities in humility? If it is loved, they might even come back.

My second point also relates to that otherness of the Church. We’re not a corporation (though we are a corporate body), so there are differences. But we can learn from other organisations that have cleaned up their act. The Labour Party, now Government, has moved swiftly to suspend its members who have been part of a disgustingly abusive WhatsApp group. Similarly, the BBC now suspends its employees at a whiff of abusive conduct.

Knee-jerk defensive action

Sometimes, it’s true, such bodies move just too swiftly. BBC DJs Tony Blackburn and Paul Gambuccini can attest to that (though the latter was essentially a CPS error). And the Church itself has indulged in knee-jerk defensive action, as when it implicated the long-dead Bishop George Bell in child abuse on untested evidence. But that’s exactly why safeguarding must be conducted by transparent, accountable and professional resources, not just bishops who consider themselves worthy of having another go at it.

Finally, events at General Synod point to the Church of England’s urgent need of reformation. We’ve never really had one. We grew out of the Tudor schism with the Church of Rome, not the European Reformation. As a consequence, we’ve nurtured our own Pharisaic hypocrisies of the Temple over the past four or five hundred years.

Our Synod has just shown it’s well past time to purge them.

George Pitcher is a visiting fellow at the LSE and an Anglican priest