When the Church Acts: A Response to the New Clergy Conduct Measure

The Church of England, through the General Synod, has approved the new Clergy Conduct Measure, and I felt something I didn’t expect. Relief. Not because the system is perfect or harm will suddenly disappear. Relief because the Church is naming what many of us have lived through for years. It’s listening and acting.

I’ve written openly about spiritual abuse, institutional harm, the Fearfully and Wonderfully Made report, and ableism for over a decade. I’ve named childhood trauma, safeguarding failures, coerced confession, weaponised healing, and the long shadow of Leviticus 21 that still shapes how disabled bodies are treated. I’ve written about “Simon,” the priest who mocked disabled people, blamed us for lacking faith, used demons and evil spirits as explanations for disability, and pushed exorcism without training. He then blamed us. He blamed anyone who didn’t fit his theology. They always “had the devil in them.”

He fractured our parish, lied to our sister church, abandoned us, and spread narratives that made us look like the problem over a nine‑month period while there were moments that allowed him to do that. Families left. Women were harmed. LGBTQ people were diminished. Disabled people were used as jokes or spiritual warnings. When I met with the bishop during my ordination process, she agreed that these actions were safeguarding and spiritual abuse, even when I didn’t name him or this incident directly. Despite everything that went wrong in that meeting, this was a positive. Yet he resigned, crossed diocesan lines, and is now an associate vicar elsewhere. No accountability. No justice. Just movement. One that leaves survivors. A pattern the Church unfortunately knows well.

This is why the new Clergy Conduct Measure matters.

The Church Times article outlines the new rules. Complaints must be dealt with “justly, expeditiously, and proportionately.” Timeframes are short. Investigations must be completed within months, not years. Misconduct decisions must be published. Case‑management powers mirror best practice in secular courts. Safeguarding concerns, criminal conduct, and serious misconduct cannot be hidden. The rules are “deeply mindful of the humanity of everyone involved,” protecting the vulnerable and defending clergy against weaponised complaints.

For someone like me, who has lived through the consequences of a system that didn’t act, this is huge.

If these rules had existed when Simon arrived, everything could have been different. His behaviour wouldn’t have been dismissed. His actions wouldn’t have been quietly nodded toward the code of conduct without follow‑through. Yes, that’s all I got: “Martyn, I don’t think this is safeguarding, but you should look at the code of conduct of a priest.” If this Measure existed then it could have stopped his actions.

With it, the lies, division, spiritual abuse, ableism, harm towards women and LGBTQ people, our church abandonment, and the narrative manipulation would have been addressed. Not whispered about or tolerated. Addressed.

The Church is recognising that harm doesn’t always look like headlines. Sometimes it looks like a joke about disability, a healing narrative that blames disabled people, a priest using demons to explain someone’s disability, and sometimes it looks like a community being split apart because accountability threatens someone’s power.

That was his issue. He wanted us to stop streaming our services to elderly and disabled members who were unable to attend in person. It’s a resource. For him, it was accountability. Without it, he could say and do whatever he liked and dismiss anyone’s complaints as misunderstandings, personal issues, or even blame the person. Just like he’s done before.

The new Measure doesn’t fix everything, but it acknowledges that subtle harm can be spiritual, institutional, and damaging. It acknowledges that clergy can misuse power, that complaints need structure, clarity, and urgency, and that victims and survivors deserve justice.

Archbishop Sarah Mullally leads this shift. She understands safeguarding, chronic health, carers, and institutional bias. She knows the Church must change, especially following her predecessor’s exit. She’s becoming the beacon the Church needs. Safeguarding is no longer a footnote. It’s becoming the centre.

This matters for survivors. It matters for congregations who have been dismissed, ignored, or blamed, for those who have been told their harm wasn’t “serious enough,” and for those who watched clergy move dioceses and start again without consequence.

The Church is learning to shine a light, not hide the shadows.

I’m not naïve. Systems fail. People fail. Harm still happens. Yet this Measure is a step toward a Church that listens, protects, acts, understands mandatory safeguarding, and recognises spiritual abuse and misconduct. This is a Church that refuses harm to slip quietly across diocesan borders.

This is a positive and necessary step. Being on the ordination process, completing the Carousel Conversations, and growing into my vocation as a priest, I welcome this. I’m committed to following it, not just for myself, but for those like me who deserve better.

The Church is moving in the right direction.