I guess many of you know by now (in fact, may have known well before I did) that the Archbishop of Canterbury has resigned. (Given my intense connection to the world of English church music, you might have thought that I would have heard rumblings sooner, but I just didn't.) Knowing the shock wave that this represents for the C of E, the cathedrals, and Britain generally, close on the heels of the death of Queen Elizabeth, it is stunning, and I am saddened and concerned for the place and milieu I feel so attached to.
But of course anger has bubbled up as well, due to the nature of the underlying issue that was repeatedly covered up, an issue that continues to be downplayed or even flaunted in a host of other non-church contexts as well: physical and sexual abuse. My personal pain stems from a completely different place, the level of condescension and rejection I experienced when I realized how much I loved the music of the men-and-boys' choir tradition and felt called to sing it. There must have been scores of other girls and women in the 1960's, 70's and 80's in the same boat, excellent people/excellent musicians prevented from serving the church simply because of our gender. The fact that abusive men were apparently welcome in any capacity is unthinkable. Absurd. Abuse victims have been through a hell I cannot even imagine; the unusual, rootless tailspin that has become the rest of my life seems minor by comparison. And yet both sides of this loveless coin cause immense lifelong repercussions, confusion, and pain.
Ultimately, there isn't much more that I ought to say, except that paradigms allowing abuse simply may not be salvageable. It's not just that I don't think the Goddess, in Her re-emergence, will stand for it. It's that Goddess-friendly societies would be unlikely to generate such extremes of power and powerlessness in the first place.
