I follow several church people on X (formerly Twitter).
Some I agree with on one issue (for example the importance of the parish church) but am taken aback at their politics (somewhat right wing). I can cope with this. Our differences are real but they are honest differences. It feels authentic.
I’m struggling though with the difference between those who have been deeply hurt by the church and those who are presenting the church as a place of exciting new initiatives that should lead to growth.
I can understand why people get excited about new initiatives; I have felt like that myself in the past. There are many wonderful stories of initiatives that reach out to people. Those taking part in these initiatives retell their stories with honest enthusiasm and joy. But…
Do they really see the church like this – a haven shining in the darkness where we can all come together and be safe and joyful – and grow? These initiatives are put forward by the insitutional church. Do those taking part never have any doubts about what this institutional church is like?
The safeguarding fiasco where victims and survivors of abuse have not been listened to and their need for resolution ignored creates the image of a church that is keen to maintain its reputation and hierarchical power. Their stories are desperately sad but I think that they are only the tip of the iceberg. So many people (both laity and clergy) seem to have stories of bullying within the church and of being powerless to change the bullying culture.
This church seems a world away from the church of many initiatives. It is a church that lacks glossy enthusiasm, one that seems to be rooted in a harsh reality. There seems to be a complete disconnect between the two – for where can their meeting points be? How can a church that is promoting a church growth project have space for those who have been deeply hurt by that same church? There is almost a pretence that these people don’t exist – for how could the church treat people in this way? The church of initiatives is an exciting place to be, a place where God can and does do amazing things.
But what about the hurt?
How does this disconnect affect local churches, the ones at ground level where people turn up on Sundays hoping to encounter God?
I don’t know. But these local churches are the places where the abuse or bullying actually happened. For some this was an isolated incident affecting only a few people, with many of the congregation totally unaware that anything happened. Some churches though are part of a toxic culture. And there may be churches where bullying and abuse is not part of their recent history and they really can go forward together. But surely even these churches are aware of the wider picture to some extent?
Churches do not do well with conflict and many are conflict avoidant. There is a lot of “moving on” and “Sophie never really fitted in anyway.” For these churches a new initiative from the diocese may seem heaven sent – for when people work together there is a sense of unity that many churches see as a key aim.
But the disconnect is still there.
“I’m beginning to think that we should have done more to support Sophie.”
This is the starting point. It is the beginning of awareness that what happened with Sophie was wrong. That things should have been done differently.
This is humility.
It is only with this kind of humility that the church can reconnect. I have seen it happen in small local churches – the awareness of what has happened, a desire to do things differently, a sense of the fragility of this particular church.
Can it be replicated on a wider scale without coming across as pompous and non authentic? I’m not sure. The insitutional church is just too big somehow, involving too many people.
It is much easier to go for new initiatives.
But the church, unlike many secular organisations, works on the humility dynamic.
Meristem 