Recent allegations against the Archbishop of York, Stephen Cottrell, have reignited a painful conversation about the Church of England’s failure to address sexual abuse and its broader identity crisis.
The BBC’s revelations indicate that Cottrell, during his tenure as Bishop of Chelmsford, failed to take decisive action against David Tudor, a priest and serial child sexual abuser. This failure, coupled with the Church’s apparent willingness to validate Tudor with positions of honor, exposes systemic problems that reach far beyond one individual.
A Legacy of Misconduct and Cover-Ups
In 2010, just one week after assuming his role as Bishop of Chelmsford, Stephen Cottrell was reportedly informed about David Tudor, a priest in his diocese who had been previously convicted of indecently assaulting three young girls. Although Tudor’s convictions were later overturned on technical grounds, the Church itself found him guilty of misconduct and banned him from the priesthood—but only for five years.
In a baffling decision, despite Tudor being deemed unfit to work unsupervised with children, he was later reinstated as a vicar. Even more astonishingly, in 2015, Tudor was appointed an honorary canon at Chelmsford Cathedral.
The severity of the issue became undeniable after Tudor paid £10,000 in compensation to a victim and the Church later disbursed a six-figure sum to yet another survivor. Despite mounting evidence, Cottrell only suspended Tudor in 2019. It wasn’t until recently—two months ago—that Tudor finally admitted to sexual misconduct and was formally removed from the Church.
The key questions remain: How could such a failure occur within a religious institution tasked with safeguarding moral integrity? Why did the Church repeatedly validate Tudor by reinstating him and bestowing honors, knowing his history? The answer appears to lie in a combination of institutional complacency, the Church’s insular culture, and a deep-seated fear of scandal.
A Culture of Silence and Privilege
The Church of England, like many other long-standing institutions, has been criticized for behaving like an old boys’ club—a hierarchy in which reputations are protected at all costs. The case of David Tudor appears not as an isolated incident but as part of a broader pattern of abuse cover-ups.
The enforced resignation of Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby is a stark example of the mounting accountability pressures facing the Church. Welby stepped down after taking responsibility for the Church’s failure to address the prolific abuse perpetrated by Christian charity worker John Smyth. While Welby’s resignation was framed as an act of accountability, it also underscored the inadequacies in how Church leadership addresses such crises.
Stephen Cottrell is now poised to assume the caretaker leadership role following Welby’s departure. These fresh disclosures about Tudor are particularly damaging, not only for Cottrell personally but for the institution he represents. Helen-Ann Hartley, the Bishop of Newcastle, has called for Cottrell’s resignation, asserting that safeguarding failures have critically undermined the Church’s credibility. Hartley also insists that the Church must tackle the entrenched cultures of “power, privilege, and entitlement” that allow such failures to persist.
Yet, as significant as safeguarding issues are, they also point to a much deeper crisis: the collapse of the Church’s spiritual mission.
The Real Existential Threat: Loss of Faith
The Church of England’s handling of sexual abuse cases is symptomatic of a broader malaise. While safeguarding issues require urgent attention, the Church’s credibility is arguably more at risk due to its failure to fulfill its primary role: providing moral and spiritual leadership.
Over the past few decades, church attendance and religious belief have plummeted in Britain. The Church’s declining influence can be traced to its increasing focus on secular and social issues at the expense of its spiritual mission.
During his tenure, Justin Welby often positioned himself as a progressive “culture warrior,” championing causes such as climate change, gender identity debates, and colonial reparations. While these are important topics, they are not the core mission of a religious institution. Critics argue that Welby’s priorities reflected a secular, managerial mindset rather than a commitment to promoting biblical teachings and spiritual renewal.
The consequences of this shift are clear. In a post-truth, post-moral society, many people are searching for meaning, stability, and guidance—a spiritual void the Church should be uniquely equipped to fill. Instead, the Church has turned its focus to governance structures, political causes, and bureaucratic reforms. The result has been alienation and disillusionment among its adherents.
A Symptom of Cultural Degradation
Sexual abuse scandals, while not unique to the Church, are reflective of broader societal problems. Over the past few decades, Western culture has undergone a profound moral and social transformation. The cultural promotion of licentiousness—evident in hyper-sexualized media, graphic sex education, and the normalization of pornography—has eroded traditional moral boundaries. In such a climate, it is perhaps unsurprising that institutions like the Church have struggled to address the complexities of abuse and misconduct.
Yet, instead of confronting these societal issues with moral clarity, the Church has often remained silent or, worse, complicit. By failing to assert its role as a moral authority, the Church has allowed itself to drift with the cultural tide. It has abdicated its responsibility to “hold the normative line” and offer a counter-narrative rooted in biblical truth and moral virtue.
The Church’s inability to confront sexual abuse decisively mirrors its broader failure to address societal decline. Leaders like Welby and Cottrell appear more concerned with public relations and institutional survival than with providing the spiritual leadership necessary to rebuild trust and moral integrity.
The Path Forward: Reclaiming the Spiritual Mission
Helen-Ann Hartley is right to say that safeguarding must be a top priority for the Church’s next leader. The institution cannot hope to regain credibility without addressing the systemic failures that have allowed abuse to persist. However, safeguarding alone will not save the Church. What it desperately needs is a spiritual revival.
The Church of England must reclaim its core purpose: to teach biblical precepts, promote religious belief, and provide moral guidance. In an era marked by confusion and relativism, people are yearning for clarity and truth. By refocusing on its spiritual mission, the Church can begin to address both the moral failures within its ranks and the broader societal decay.
The sexual abuse scandals are undeniably horrific and require swift justice for survivors and accountability for enablers. But these scandals are also symptomatic of a Church that has lost its way. The real crisis lies in the collapse of faith, attendance, and moral authority. Without a renewed focus on spiritual leadership, the Church will continue its free fall into irrelevance.
As the Church of England faces this moment of reckoning, its leaders must ask themselves: What does the institution stand for? Will it continue to chase secular causes and managerial reforms, or will it rediscover its sacred duty to serve as a beacon of truth, morality, and faith?
The answers to these questions will determine whether the Church can survive the storms of scandal and societal change or whether it will fade into obscurity.
