Empty Words

According to Peter Rohde’s biography of Soren Kierkegaard (1813-1855), the great Danish philosopher recorded in his journal how a highly educated preacher was once invited to the King’s opulent court to speak to the richest and most powerful people in the land, and he chose to talk about how God chooses the humble and rejected. Kierkegaard, who hated the hypocrisy of the state church, noted with bitter irony that no one laughed. It is a pity no one laughed at Archbishop of York Stephen Cottrell’s Christmas sermon in which he expressed concern for abuse victims, despite facing the accusation that he failed to deal adequately with the former vicar David Tudor, who has admitted to historical sex abuse allegations relating to two girls.

Deploying depthless discourse sick with soundbites and sententious cliches, Cottrell pontificated about the need not just to talk about justice and love, but to ‘walk the talk.’ He went on to describe how inadequate are those who ‘talk a good game, but whose words are never embodied in action’. He also intoned about the need to help the most vulnerable, saying: ‘Put the needs of others first – those who are cold and hungry and homeless this Christmas. Those who are victims of abuse and exploitation.’

This is fine if only Cottrell’s own conduct had conformed to these dicta in the matter of David Tudor. Yet, sadly for Tudor’s victims, this has not been the case. The story goes like this.

Tudor worked as a C of E minister in London, Surrey and Essex parishes for over forty-six years. He rose through the ranks to become an area dean on Canvey Island in 2010, the same year that Cottrell was appointed as Tudor’s diocesan bishop, although the decision to promote Tudor pre-dates Cottrell’s appointment.

According to one of Cottrell’s spokespersons, Cottrell would have been fully informed about the longstanding safeguarding concerns over Tudor. This would have included his admission that he had had sex with a sixteen year old girl and his being banned for sexual misconduct from the ministry by a Church tribunal; a decision disastrously overturned five years later by the then Archbishop of Canterbury, Lord Carey, who now asserts that he does not remember David Tudor’s name.

Cottrell would have known too that in 2005, the Church suspended Tudor as police investigated an allegation he had indecently assaulted a child back in the Seventies. He was allowed to return to work when the police chose not to charge him, because there was insufficient evidence.

From January 2008, Tudor was permitted to work as a priest, but only under a safeguarding agreement that he was never to be alone with children and that he was barred from entering any school in Essex. This agreement continued while Cottrell was Tudor’s bishop. That Tudor was judged not to be trusted around children surely disqualified him from the priesthood, but instead he appears to have been seen as a manageable risk.

Cottrell’s office has defended him by arguing that he was unable to take disciplinary action against Tudor, as all complaints against him had been dealt with. However, in 2019, when a new complaint was made against Tudor, Cottrell swiftly suspended him until he had been before a Church tribunal which banned Tudor from the priesthood for life. Well, I suppose that is something.

However, Cottrell’s inaction over Tudor for nine years is a complete contradiction of his exhortation to his audience to ‘walk the talk,’ embody their words in action and put abuse victims first. If there was anyone he ought to have been preaching to that morning, it was himself. Perhaps someone else who does ‘walk the talk’ over safeguarding, such as Bishop Helen-Ann Hartley, could have been invited to preach while Cottrell delivered his sermon standing in front of a full-length mirror.

Things get worse if we consider that while Cottrell was his bishop, Tudor’s contract as area dean was renewed twice; once in 2013, and then again in 2018). Tudor was also appointed to the role of an honorary canon of Chelmsford Cathedral in 2015 during Cottrell’s tenure as bishop. Cottrell has argued that this was not his idea but the result of a change in Church policy, which meant that area deans were automatically made honorary canons. But why could an exception to this policy not have been made for Tudor? Surely someone who was banned from being alone with children was not worthy of being a priest let alone of promotion?

If Cottrell is so concerned about protecting children from abuse, why did he not do what Bishop Hartley says she would have done? In an interview with BBC Sounds, Hartley explained she would have applied to the President of Tribunals to bring a case that enabled the removal of a priest to be held out of time, to allow a review of evidence to be conducted. She is pretty certain that such a review would have led to Tudor being disciplined. Hartley acknowledges Tudor could have sued her, but she would have been prepared to take such a risk because the principle of protecting children was at stake.

Cottrell has since admitted that he could have dealt with Tudor differently, but by confessing this, he has only strengthened the case for his resignation.

Enter her grace, Julie Conalty, who is the Bishop of Birkenhead and the Church’s assistant lead on safeguarding. She told Radio Four’s The World At One she does not think there are grounds for Cottrell’s resignation, because one cannot dismiss every bishop and cleric who has made procedural errors in dealing with abuse cases. However, this is not an example of a one-off error made in good faith, but a case of tolerating for nine years and permitting the promotion of a man who was deemed to pose a safeguarding risk to children. There is such a thing as deep shame over serious errors that compels people of real conscience to hand in their notices. Cottrell does not feel that shame, but he should.

Later in his sermon, Cottrell said this: ‘Right now, this Christmas, God’s Church itself needs to come to the manger and strip off her finery and kneel in penitence and adoration.’ If there is anyone who right now should be kneeling robe-less in penitence, it is him. But no. Decked in his pontifical vestments, Cottrell emerged from York Minster to greet the smiling congregants. This man likes the trappings of status and power a lot.

Cottrell’s attitude is a symptom of aspects of a church culture that the Church itself has officially criticised. In a safeguarding review in 2022, the Church’s response to allegations of abuse was lambasted for victim-blaming, deference to those in power, and inertia. It is not enough therefore that individuals resign, though that is needed. What is necessary for victims, future victims and all the decent clerics and laity in the C of E who are doing great work to keep children and vulnerable adults safe, is that the oversight of the Church’s safeguarding process is placed in the hands of an independent watchdog that has the power to decisively dismiss whoever is guilty of abuse, whether s/he be the most proletarian of parsons or the most puissant of prelates.

Peter Harris is a freelance writer. 

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