
The legacy of John Smyth’s sadistic abuse has had far-reaching consequences which will rumble on. In almost 1500 years never before has an Archbishop of Canterbury resigned.
Smyth’s appalling crimes have been transposed, compounded and institutionalised through both the active cover-up and the passive inaction of others. The yeast has worked through a whole batch.
The scandal is an opportunity for reflection on how ‘truth’ is handled within churches and Christian cultures.
Damaging God
David Fletcher, the leader of Iwerne camps where Smyth met the boys he abused, was one of the C of E Ministers who covered it up and had Smyth sent off to South Africa. Fletcher is on record for the reason he kept the abuse secret:
“I thought it would do the work of God immense damage if this were public.”
Recent events expose the terrible folly of such thinking. It is an abomination to think the work of God is ever protected by concealing crimes. Especially when the cover-up enabled Smyth to continue to abuse others in Africa.
The crucible
All institutions seek to protect themselves but the church has specific dangers. The play The Crucible about witch trials in Salem, Massachusetts in the 17th century, is a powerful parable of the conflict between what was seen as ‘theological truth’ and ‘moral truth’.
The accusations of witchcraft were motivated by grievance, vengeance and ecclesiastical ambition, but belief in the ‘theological truth’ of demonic spirituality over rid the ‘moral truth’ of what was really happening. And nineteen people were hanged as a result.
Satan, meaning ‘the accuser’, was at work in Salem but in a more earthy way than imagined. And the chief enabler of the injustice was the institutional church.
And it’s a challenge relevant for us all. We all face ‘crucibles’ of different types where we feel the heat and pressure is brought to bear. Finding the courage to be truthful is the key test of faith.
Theological truth
The church has a unique mission to share truths about the God revealed in Jesus. But our claims to speak theological truth must be matched by our commitment to moral truth.
Leaders like Smyth, Ravi Zacharias, Jonathan Fletcher and Mike Pilavachi were highly valued by many for their teaching about God. But alongside this they were living a double-life of abuse and manipulation of others. Their conduct was not challenged adequately or early enough partly because of the their spiritual reputations.
For all of them the theological truth they spoke so fluently was not matched by the moral truth they lived out. The gap between the two is called hypocrisy.
Hypocrisy
The problem of hypocrisy is a major biblical theme. The Hebrew prophets such as Jeremiah, Amos, Micah and Isaiah all condemn religion which fails to change moral behaviour:
“When you spread out your hands in prayer, I hide my eyes from you; even when you offer many prayers, I am not listening. Your hands are full of blood!” (Isaiah 1.15)
And Jesus and the New Testament continue this emphasis. The entire Sermon on the Mount is about how we live. The tree is known by its fruit.
Integrated
Christian faith is not a set of theological ideas which you need to cerebrally accept in order to qualify for heaven. It is far more earthy and integrated than that. Theological and moral truth cannot be separated. True wisdom is not proved by theological concepts, books or long sermons, but by how we live. As Jesus says:
‘Wisdom is proved right by her actions’ (Matt 11.19)
Good theology must be lived out – otherwise its worthless. Jesus is not just ‘the truth’ but also the way and the life. Faith without deeds is dead.
Tempted
Whether in church, or at work or at home, we can all be tempted to sit light to the truth, cover things up and to be silent about wrong-doing. Telling the truth is one of life’s most significant challenges.
And its a challenge that is both moral and deeply theological. Being deceitful is not just a denial of truth but also a denial of grace.
It is when we truly grasp divine grace and accept God’s forgiveness that we find the deepest resources to face truth. We do not need to pretend, protect reputations or cover-up institutional failure. We can come unashamed, in penitence and faith.
God’s crucible
In contrast, it is a brittle faith which believes God’s reputation needs defending through covering-up reality.
On the cross Jesus chose to be utterly exposed and humiliated, to lose all reputation and honour. His enemies and followers assumed this was the end. But actually his was the path of reconciliation: the divine crucible where God’s costly grace triumphed over sin and injustice. The cross is the ultimate place of grace and truth.
The connection between what we say we believe and how we live is called integrity. And more than ever, its what the world needs to see in the church.
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Thanks so much Jon for these very wise and pertinent thoughts. As Jesus says “you shall know them by their fruit” – the only test He gave us.
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Thanks Ruth
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Another superlative effort Jon! 8/10
I am reminded of Stanley Hauerwas who said that all of Christian ethics can be boiled down to two words: “Don’t lie.”
He went on to say “Christians don’t lie. We don’t lie because lying is the death of human community, or it’s impossible to be with one another in relationship when there is a pattern of lying. We don’t lie because it’s our job to show that Jesus Christ makes possible lives of truth in a world of lies.”
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Thanks Tim for sharing the Hauerwas quote – punchy and clear!
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Jon, thanks for this, and for your (and your brother’s) coverage of this issue. My very slight involvement in the history of this is that I was a part of a church led by one of those involved in keeping the secret when I was a student in the late 1980s. When the report came out a couple of weeks ago I was more affected by discovering this than I might have expected. As you say, telling the truth matters for many reasons.
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thanks for reading and commenting and I hope you can have space and good people to process the affect it had on you with.
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In my sisters’ convent school, besides the position of Head Girl, there was an award called “The Integrity Medal”. As a child I always wondered what integrity meant. Thank you for using this word, and explaining it in the contextual way that you do. It becomes more and more significant in my own life, and in these times, and for some reason I/we don’t often encounter the word. Having said that, I’m not sure what I think about awarding medals for integrity!
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thanks Peter for reading and commenting. The best definition I know of integrity is ‘doing the right thing when no one’s watching’. And I agree that I am not sure about medals either!
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