Church of England must open up its governance to scrutiny | Letters

It is difficult to comprehend why the Anglican Church allowed known abusers into positions of trust, and continued to tolerate situations that should have been impossible (C of E must ‘kneel in penitence’ after difficult year, says archbishop of York, 25 December).

A church has no knees but those of its members, most of whom, in this case, were surely oblivious of the situation. That the archbishop of York chose to use figurative language at such a portentous moment offers a small clue to the problem. Why did Stephen Cottrell need an adviser to tell him that a known abuser should not hold any office in the church? What is the point of high office in the church if its holders cannot act in favour of victims and against perpetrators?

The Anglican church into which I was baptised as a helpless baby and confirmed as an ignorant teenager has had much to commend it over the centuries. The Church in Wales was “separated and disestablished” in 1914, and I wish that the Church of England had taken a corresponding decision later in the 20th century.

Arguably, this would have been better for the church. It would certainly be better for the UK constitution now to separate itself, the electorate and the public from an organisation that is so pitiably unable to manage its affairs. I doubt that a great hierarchical institution can really “demonstrate the power of love”. But such an organisation can, and surely should, demonstrate the significance of timely, appropriate action.
Janet Dubé
Peebles, Scottish Borders

It’s taken me a lifetime to realise that the physical invasion and abuse I received as a teenager by a priest of the Church of England, and the rapes by his friends, and the acceptance of such behaviour by this unaccountable priest, was exactly that – rape and abuse.

Nothing protected you in the 1960s. I doubt if the bishops at the time could imagine what went on, though such ignorance or naivety didn’t prevent others in the town being suspicious. My mother challenged this priest on account of the rumours, but who else could she turn to? Turn a blind eye, was the attitude of many in the church.

The religious nonsense of this priest and his nomenclature, “Father”, protected him. His outburst in a sermon that “we were all drains and came to mass for divine disinfectant” went unchallenged, projecting his unresolved guilt on to young minds. It just seems laughable today; at the time it was dangerous.

The bishop of Newcastle made it plain: “there was a “generation of bishops in the C of E” who were “very much in the mould of it being an old boys’ club”. My priest died unchallenged, unrepentant, full of pride in his religious gobbledegook, his shield from shame at invading young vulnerable lives, their minds and bodies.
Name and address supplied

About 15 years ago, I attended a safeguarding symposium where the emphasis was on sharing best practice when working with vulnerable children and adults, and how best to have effective safeguarding policies and structures within organisations.

Several Church of England parish groups were present. During the day, members of these groups talked about the church “reaching out” to support other organisations. At the plenary meeting I referenced these comments, and wondered to the audience if the C of E ever allowed other organisations to “reach in” to see how it operated and offer appropriate feedback. This was met with blank incomprehension by church members, although one approached me afterwards to say I’d given him something to think about.

The Church of England has resisted any meaningful examination of how it operates, and is an example that it’s not enough to have policies and procedures – there have to be effective actions.
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