The Church must be remade

Letters to the Editor of The Tablet

Father William Massie’s suggestion that synodality is merely an “organic development, consistent with what has gone before” (Letters, 29 November) reveals a tension at the heart of the Church’s current moment: is this process a gentle, organic development, or something far more profound?

To properly understand it, we must begin with what it confronts: synodality is, as Pope Francis insisted, the direct and intentional response to the perversion of clericalism.

Clericalism is not mere inefficiency or paternalism. It is a spiritual sickness that distorts the Church into a caste system, privileging the ordained while rendering most of the baptised passive.

It confuses hierarchy with domination, sacrament with status, and has fostered cultures of secrecy and abuse. It is a betrayal of the Gospel’s radical call to brotherhood and sisterhood in Christ.

Therefore, the conversion synodality demands cannot be gentle. It must be radical, world-overturning, and structural—akin to Paul’s Damascus Road experience. He did not receive a gentle course correction; he was blinded, unhorsed, and given a new identity and mission. His entire framework of righteousness and power was shattered.

So too must the institutional framework of the Church be shattered and remade. Synodality requires a kenotic emptying of clerical privilege and a fearless re-imagining of authority, governance, and ministry.

It means creating permanent, empowered spaces for the sensus fidei of all the faithful—not as a courtesy, but as a constitutive element of church decision making.

Synodality is not about improving clergy lay relations; it is about dismantling a pyramid of power. The Church, as a body, is being called to a profound metanoia—to turn from the deep, seductive path of clerical power and prestige, and to walk, vulnerable and listening, on the synodal path of shared mission.

Hal St John
London SE28

I share the view of your editorial frustrated with the reticence of the bishops to bring about an effective local synodal process (“Bishops must lead on the synodal path”, 29 Nov).

I am fortunate to be a parishioner in a lively church in West Yorkshire where the laity have been wonderfully trained to be active in the parish for over two decades. At one time we had a charismatic and inspirational team including a parish priest, a deacon and a parish sister.

These days, though, like many parishes, our priest has to cover two churches, as well as additional diocesan duties.

To me the synod was Francis, and now Leo, saying that the time has come to trust the laity, to bring them in to help push the Church forward, and to be the bridge to the wider community in terms of practical support and evangelisation.

So it is disappointing that the bishops don’t seem to think we are ready. In the end the laity is the Church, with the priests there to assist us. Too often it feels like we are not trusted. It is time to build up that trust; a re-energised synod in our parishes and dioceses is surely needed now more than ever before.

Sean Morris
Mytholmryod, West Yorkshire

Impact of abuse

The letter from your unnamed writer (“Not a victim”, 29 November) left me feeling unsettled and dazed. Like him, I have had to live for many years with the reality of having been sexually abused as a child and young adult.

The abuse to which I was subjected lasted nearly a decade and was persistent. The perpetrator was a clergyman of another denomination.

Some years ago, I visited my abuser in prison and immediately triggered in my own life a long period of grief, clinical depression and paranoia which, to varying degrees, continues to this day.

Reading the letter did not help me to feel positive. The persistent shame, embarrassment, guilt and sense of having been unwillingly complicit in the crimes committed against me are always there, waiting to pounce and to ruin every day.

I wish the writer well and pray that he always manages to look forward, rather than back. Like him, I refuse to be defined by what happened to me, but I cannot live as if it didn’t occur. It is a truth of which I will always have to try and make sense.

By the grace of God, moving on is possible. I know, as a priest, that when I support people in the confessional, healing and forgiveness are available.

I would say to your writer that I don’t have a view as to how others will remember me, only that I am who I am and that, sadly, sexual abuse has been — and is — a part of that.

NAME AND ADDRESS SUPPLIED

Your letter (“Not a victim”), while it reminds me that every victim of abuse’s journey is unique, nonetheless needs challenging.

First, abuse of a child is a criminal offence. Second, in the context of the Gospel, your anonymous correspondent could read Matthew 18:6 and reflect on what Jesus said about those who harm children. Jesus was unequivocal.

When I chaired the National Catholic Safeguarding Commission for England and Wales, I was invited to take two victims and survivors of abuse to spend two days with Pope Francis, with victims from other countries.

At a Mass especially for us, Pope Francis recounted very movingly in his sermon the experience of many victims of clerical childhood abuse: not being listened to or believed by church leaders, inability to make or sustain relationships, addiction to alcohol and/or drugs, distancing themselves from the Church and, for some in despair, suicide.

Having had the privilege of walking with victims and survivors of abuse for many years, I can only regret at how dismissive your correspondent is of their experience.

Danny Sullivan
Basingstoke, Hampshire

Schools of theology

Sara Parvis’ letter on Marian devotion (22 November) raises the possibility of a dispute between two schools of theology, Augustinian and Thomist.

Could this be the time to observe that different schools of theology have always had their devotees, but that a single school of theology does not the teaching of the Church make?

Perhaps, as with the Church itself, there are different helpful models. We should encourage theologians and the faithful to explore different expressions of understanding of God.

Always beware of putting all eggs in a particular theological basket; it leads to the same difficulties as relying only on one model of Church.

John Farrell
Chessington, Surrey

Connolly’s election

Reading Liz Dodd’s column (22 November), I hardly recognise Ireland and its new president, although I am Irish and have lived all my life in Ireland. Liz sees the recent election of Catherine Connolly as president of Ireland as a sign of hope, a bulwark against fascism and nationalist supremacy.

The reality is, in the final race for the presidency there was only one other candidate, Heather Humphreys, a woman, a Presbyterian living in a border county with Northern Ireland, who represented the government. Even the most extreme Irish person would not describe Heather as a fascist or representative of national supremacy.

Liz has constructed a narrative around a scenario that doesn’t exist. What actually took place is what often happens in Ireland: Irish people like to give the two fingers to the establishment, especially when the outcome doesn’t matter much.

The presidency in Ireland is a ceremonial role. The people previously elected Michael D. Higgins, a left-wing socialist, as a thorn in the government’s side.

Likewise, Catherine Connolly. But far from being a sign of hope, President Connolly is a further sign for Christians to despair of the political system. She describes herself as “a-religious”, she campaigned for abortion and same-sex marriage, and declined to have the traditional celebration of Mass at her inauguration.

Her fanbase is, as Liz described them, “a new generation of young, politically active Gaelic speaking activists”. But most of these young people belong to Sinn Fein, which has its roots in the IRA in Northern Ireland and in criminality in the south. The situation in Ireland is not as hopeful as Liz makes out.

(Fr) Gregory O’Brien PP
Kildare, Ireland

All-day prayers

Laura Keynes writes about fitting prayer into busy lives (“Advent reflections: Grace on the hoof”, 29 November). Many years ago, staying with my grandmother in Co. Dublin, the house resounded with prayers all through the day, even though a busy house had to be run.

The rosary was said after breakfast, its mysteries recited from the kitchen up through the house and answered by the bedmakers, floor sweepers, grate cleaners, the women on domestic duties.

There was Mass to be driven to every day, and on a sunny day my grandmother would sit out on the front door step, turning her rosary between her fingers while raising her hand to greet passing neighbours.

After dinner, we knelt on chairs around the large kitchen table and all in the house joined in reciting, again, the rosary. Callers to the back door would automatically join in.

I slept in my grandmother’s bedroom as a child. Her night prayers would terrify me, whispered in the dark, as she prayed to God for a good, quick and peaceful death, if he took her to heaven during the night.

Jo Burden
Marlow, Buckinghamshire

Cathedral confusion

Your news item on the renaming of Dublin Cathedral (News Briefing from Britain and Ireland”, 22 November) recalls an eye-opening experience as a new 11-year-old and one of very few Catholic boys in a secular north London grammar school in 1957.

Writing an essay on my school holidays, I mentioned going to the “pro-Cathedral”, which was red-inked by the teacher with the comment: “Do not use sloppy abbreviations in essays, Protestant!”

When I showed my dad, he sent me fully armed to correct the unfortunate young graduate teaching us.

I am not sure how well he took it, but fair to say, I enjoyed his teaching and those of most masters at William Ellis, even taking religious studies as a fourth A level, the only candidate.

Bill Sheils
Professor Emeritus, University of York

Jesus as refugee

I wonder how Christian voters for Reform (“Reform’s unlikely secret weapon”, 29 November) harmonise the fact that Jesus was a refugee and his parents, in today’s terminology, were asylum seekers who had to flee into Egypt with their baby.

Liz Byrne
Letchworth, Hertfordshire

Keeping the faith

I have supported Nottingham Forest for 40 years (Letters, 29 November), enduring the asymmetric relationship between hope and despair about which your Extra Time columnist Adrian Chiles often writes. Saturday, 22 November: heaven: Liverpool 0 Forest 3. Football indeed shows us how to keep the faith.

(Rt Revd Dr) Nigel Peyton
Honorary Assistant Bishop, Diocese of Lincoln