Title IV: It’s time to start over

Since this publication’s founding, we’ve maintained a strong focus on the Episcopal Church’s Title IV clergy disciplinary canons, their problematic implementation, and the challenges posed by the dysfunctional Title IV process for the church and its members.

 Today, we’re going a step further and calling for the wholesale re-write of Title IV.

 None of our specific concerns will come as a surprise to readers or to judicatories in the denomination. That said, we are tired of iterative tweaks to a process that is causing lasting harm to the church, its members, and those hurt by abuse.

 It’s time for wholesale change

The problems

 Problems in the Title IV process and its implementation are everywhere. Here are our top-level concerns:

 Judicatories don’t understand the goals of Title IV

In its current iteration, the goals of Title IV including accountability, healing, reconciliation, respect, and care for all involved. But there’s plenty of evidence that church officials at every level still view the Title IV clergy disciplinary process as “going nuclear,” and something to be avoided whenever possible.

Consider: Until recently, Todd Ousley (then in charge of disciplinary complaints involving bishops) and the national church didn’t even have a mechanism to provide a pastoral response (not the same as pastoral care) to parties in a Title IV case. That, despite the fact that the church’s official Title IV website proclaims a pastoral response to be a “vital part” of the process. 

 So how’s that healing thing working?

 Relatedly, we consistently see intake officers who are either reluctant to pursue a complaint or who minimize the severity of the situation, apparently because they’re unwilling to start the Title IV process. 

To be clear, the “we’re all good people doing God’s work” routine is not only false, but it’s often harmful, especially when used to brush aside allegations of misconduct.

 Bottom line: If the true purpose of Title IV really is health, healing, and reconciliation, isn’t that the most basic business of the church? And if so, why would an intake officer dismiss a case absent the most exceptional circumstances?

 Intake officers and bishops alike fail to follow Title IV policies. 

Most often, this takes the form of intake officers going beyond their canonical role by making unauthorized findings of fact. (Their only role is to ask the question, “Assuming everything in the complaint is true, would the facts alleged constitute a material violation of Title IV? From there, they forward an intake report to the reference panel.) 

Intake officers typically do this to dismiss complaints on pretextual grounds.

Even worse, one of the most egregious offenders in this space is none other than Barb Kempf, the intake officer for bishops. Reporting to Presiding Bishop Sean Rowe, she routinely dismisses cases based on findings that “there is no evidence that [fill in the blank].

To be clear, we’ve shared that feedback directly with Kempf, with limited success. And we’ve shared that feedback with Sean Rowe’s office,

Similarly, even long-time participants in the Title IV process, including members of diocesan disciplinary committees, often fail to comply with the requirements of Title IV.

The result is additional trauma for those hurt by the church, reputational damage to the Episcopal Church, and often irreparable harm to relationships within the church.

And to state the obvious: If the presiding bishop’s office can’t even be bothered to follow Title IV’s requirements, what hope is there for the rest of the denomination?

Bishops aren’t accountable

Relatedly, far too many bishops sandbag or manipulate Title IV proceedings with impunity. 

Whether it’s a case of simply ignoring a complaint or brushing off an intake officer’s recommendations, it’s not uncommon for bishops to pull this stunt. 

The problem is that, when they do, Barb Kempf and Sean Rowe’s office typically find some way to brush the complaint off. Thus, there is little incentive for dishonest bishops to act with integrity.

Several things result from this situation:

Bishops tend, in our experience, to pursue cases of lèse-majesté, in which they feel that the respondent has shown them disrespect.

Fair enough, but the same bishops show a remarkable reluctance to go after criminal conduct and other, more serious (and potentially more challenging) Title IV infractions. 

Needless to say, laity who see their own cases brushed off, while the bishop diocesan goes hammer and tongs after a priest who ignored them, wind up more than a little disheartened.

Furthermore, we continue to see bishops receive the Whayne Hougland treatment, in which his penalty for misconduct was a golden parachute, followed by a plum gig as an interim at one of the few wealthy parishes remaining in the Diocese of Chicago. Thus, the whole goal of bringing in Barb Kempf as the intake officer for bishops was to reduce this tomfoolery, but the reality is that very little has changed.

Real-life definitions of misconduct don’t match those of Title IV.

On paper, Title IV requires several affirmative actions while prohibiting an even wider range of other actions. The reality, however, is that many egregious forms of behavior are de facto exempt from Title IV scrutiny.

What typically qualifies as actionable conduct under Title IV? 

If you’re lucky, the answer is theft, sexual misconduct, especially if it involves children, and possibly embezzlement. 

Even then, there are exceptions.

For example, in the Richard Losch case, myriad judicatories, including the then-Bishop for Pastoral Development, Todd Ousley, did nothing to address allegations of child rape by Losch. (Indeed, Losch, who is in his 90s, remains a priest in good standing.

As for sexual misconduct, this blog includes a video of Fr. Tom Simmons, the married rector of St. Peter’s Episcopal in Purcellville, VA, that purportedly shows Simmons rolling around on the back deck of the rectory with a married woman who is not his wife. 

 Here is the video:

 

That said, the rule of thumb in Title IV cases often is simple: Do whatever you want, just don’t have an affair.

Thus, intake officers and Title IV reference panels frequently brush aside allegations of bullying, sexual harassment, theft of funds, perjury, and a host of other objectionable behaviors.

Indeed, even when allegations of this sort are taken seriously, Episcopal bishops often display profound naivety.

For example, when multiple allegations of abusive behavior and alcoholism surfaced against Episcopal priest Bill Allport, Newark Bishop Carlye Hughes responded with, “Well, he says he’s not an alcoholic.” 

 All we can say in response is we hope someone clued Hughes in to the fact that alcoholism is a disease of denial. (And we hope we never have to rely on Hughes for pastoral care.)

The problem in all of this is that, in most churches, there is no alternative to the Title IV clergy disciplinary process for addressing concerns.

As to the common recommendation, “Well, talk to your vestry,” most vestries comprise sycophants, empaths, enablers, and friends, with the result that it’s highly unlikely that they will be helpful. 

 Indeed, given the nature of intra-church dynamics, most vestry members will likely attack anyone they perceive as questioning their priest.

 In short, Title IV is so hit or miss in its outcomes and so illusory in the standards it claims to impose as to be worse than useless.

Lack of professionalism

Another problem with Title IV is that the implementation of its provisions is decidedly amateurish.

Yes, many intake officers are clergy with positive track records, and several are lawyers. Thus, you’d think that outcomes would be relatively professional.

However, the reality is that the process is often marred by ad hoc decision-making, missed deadlines, and laughably flawed investigations, among other issues.

Given that the church remains affluent, even in its decline, this lack of professionalism, along with its reliance on often inept volunteers, sends a powerful and disturbing message to those whom the church has hurt.

And, as we touched on earlier, far too many judicatories can’t be bothered to become proficient in Title IV—even when other dioceses recommend, for example, that they need training.

That’s sad, because it tells us that the issue is as much cultural as practical. And culture triumphs over policy every time.

Too big, too slow

As it’s currently designed and implemented, Title IV is about the right size for the Roman church, with its myriad panels, committees, and rules.

However, these days, several Roman archdioceses in the United States are larger than the entire Episcopal Church, and Title IV is too large and too slow for a tiny denomination struggling to hold onto 1.5 million members.

Indeed, even with the recent requirement that Title IV complaints be resolved in 15 months, it’s not uncommon for cases to go much longer. And the requirement for monthly communication to the complainant is typically ignored.

The result is frustration for all parties, unneeded expenses, trauma for victims, and unnecessary damage to relationships within the church.

Roadblocks to reform 

 The Episcopal Church is famously slow-moving when it comes to reform. But there are additional factors at play here, including:

• The reluctance of bishops diocesan to do anything they see as diluting their prerogatives.
• A reluctance at every level to be held accountable.
• A thawed theology of forgiveness.
• A desire not to rock the boat.
• A desire to maintain existing relationships among clergy.
• An instinctive lack of change.
• The desire to avoid spending money.
• A disturbing tendency to place politics ahead of care for others (including children), as evinced by Bishop Holly Hollerith’s statement that he wouldn’t touch allegations of child sexual abuse with a “1,000 ft. pole.” (The fact that he even thought that comments of this sort are appropriate is a damning indictment of a breakdown of integrity in the House of Bishops.)

However, we believe these factors are outweighed by the lasting harm the denomination is causing itself and its members by failing to act.

What we’re proposing

To begin, we need a sister process to Title IV. As things stand, there is no effective process in place to address human resources (HR) issues. As a result, matters that truly may not rise to the level of actionable Title IV offenses get funneled into the process, only to be spit out at intake.

How might this work?

Standardizing HR

We envision legislation at the next General Convention that would require each diocese, either independently or in collaboration with other dioceses, to establish an HR committee. 

These committees would be tasked with developing HR guidelines for their respective dioceses, while parishes would be required to adopt policies with at least the same provisions. (Parishes that wanted, for example, to increase maternity leave beyond diocesan standards would be free to do so, but they could not go below these standards absent prior approval.)

Thus, when a complaint is received, the initial determination would be whether the matter is an HR issue or a disciplinary one. If it’s an HR matter, the case would go to the diocesan HR person. If it’s a disciplinary case, the matter would go to an intake officer.

Such a system loosely mirrors the processes in Roman dioceses.

 Ethics complaints

One of the current challenges facing the denomination is that the ethics hotline (yes, there is one), only applies to employees of DFMS, which is the Episcopal Church’s corporate structure.

Thus, in addition to HR diocesan HR committees, we recommend a national ethics hotline, where anyone with safeguarding or ethics concerns can report their concerns. This would supplement, but not replace, the work of intake officers.

Standardizing intake

 There are also numerous problems with the Title IV intake process that need to be resolved. These include:

 1.   Untrained intake officers.

2.   An inherent conflict between the role of the intake officer and their role on the reference panel.

 To address these issues, we recommend contracting with an independent law firm for intake officer services. Paralegals would be trained in Title IV, and would be empowered to make intake decisions without preconceived notions, personal biases, or the other quirks that now afflict the Title IV process. Moreover, setting a single, nationwide point of intake would alleviate the administrative burdens facing the many small dioceses in the US.

Relatedly, we believe that General Convention needs to set the expectation that the default is that cases go to resolution, not a “pastoral response with no further action” aka dismissal.

 Moreover, the lack of a meaningful definition of “pastoral response” means far too many judicatories treat it as pastoral care (if the complainant is lucky), or as a case of, “Well, I was nice to the guy.” 

 Thus, General Convention needs to set clear guidelines on what is, and is not, a pastoral response.

Similarly, we also need to see General Covention weigh in to make clear that bullying, verbal abuse, spiritual abuse and other non-sexual misconduct counts. Or, as one wag puts it, “Title IV: It’s not just for adultery any more!”

Reference panels

As currently envisioned, reference panels are often little more than rubber stamps for intake officers, who are seen (usually wrongly) as the subject matter experts.

To address this, we propose three-person reference panels comprising the bishop diocesan and two persons drawn at random from the applicable disciplinary board. The panel would be encouraged to consult with the intake officer with questions, but would form its own independent conclusions.

 Conference panels

The idea of abolishing conference panels has bounced around for a while, and we believe it’s time to make it happen.

The reality in clergy disciplinary cases is that virtually all respondents fall into one of two categories:

1.   The clueless, who don’t realize that their behavior is harmful, and just need guidance on how to improve. Thus, these cases usually get resolved at intake, or by agreement with the bishop.

2.   The malevolent, who have zero interest in cleaning up their act. In those cases, adding another layer just gives them that much more opportunity to engage in dilatory behavior.

 Thus, we don’t see that there’s much practical use for conference panels.

 Hearing panels

We believe that formal hearing panels are needed, but the current model, which is built around civil litigation, is unduly burdensome and costly for all involved. We believe that a common-sense approach built around flexibility would work best, where members can assess in real life the veracity of a particular respondent.

That said, in difficult cases, hearing panels can always establish discovery deadlines, arrange for the exchange of evidence, and take other necessary steps.

In all cases, however, the focus needs to be on speed, fairness, and common sense, versus the mechanical and slow process that currently plays out for months at a time.

Appeals

We also believe that complainants need to be able to appeal adverse outcomes at intake. As things stand, we see far too many cases in which a bishop diocesan decides to sandbag cases at intake, leaving the complainant with no viable path forward.

Statute of limitations

Often, bad actors excel at concealing their actions behind a façade of superficial charm. However, when this veil of illusion is torn away, it’s common to find that there has been a lot of misconduct over the years. This is frustrating for judicatories, who may sincerely desire to address the issues, but have little basis on which to proceed.

Thus, we favor the elimination of the Title IV statute of limitations across the board.

Consider the following: If an Episcopal priest embezzles from their parish, but the theft falls beyond the five-year statute of limitations that applies in many jurisdictions and the matter is past the ten-year statute of limitations in Title IV, does anyone really want this person to continue serving as a priest? Let’s hope not.

As for earlier, minor issues, Title IV already vests judicatories with considerable discretion, so we are not concerned about the possibility that minor violations from long ago will become problems.

Confidentiality

We also would like to see General Convention modify Title IV to make clear that confidentiality does not, and cannot, apply to lay complainants. 

Specifically, Title IV expressly applies only to clergy, yet we routinely see judicatories try to tell complainants that they are somehow obligated to keep secret their experiences with abuse. Ironically, these situations are most common when, as too often happens, an intake officer improperly dismisses a complaint. 

The result in these cases is that the victim is injured once by the abuse, a second time by being told that the church doesn’t care about the abuse, and a third time by the church trying to say to the victim that they cannot share their experiences.

To be clear, victims of abuse, whether the abuse is sexual or non-sexual in nature, always have the right to discuss their experiences. To suggest otherwise is inherently abusive.

Relatedly, we recommend that General Convention set aside all current Nondisclosure Agreements (NDAs), except as may be requested by the victim, and those that pertain to the amount of settlements paid to survivors of abuse. 

Feedback

We also recommend that judicatories survey Title IV complainants to learn about their views on the Title IV process.

Why do we recommend this, and how would it be helpful?

The answer is that Title IV officials would be shocked to discover just how badly the system is perceived. Indeed, in the dozens of Title IV cases we’ve covered, we have never yet encountered a complainant who feels that the process was helpful or that they were treated with love, kindness, and respect.

Never.

Instead, perceptions range from “it was a waste of time,” to “one of the most traumatic experiences of my life,” to leaving the church, never to return.

Thus, we may be overly optimistic, but we believe judicatories would treat complainants with significantly more compassion and kindness if they understood just how dire the situation is. Additionally, persons with formal Title IV roles may be excused from service if surveys consistently show that complainants are dissatisfied with their conduct.

Cultural component

There’s an old saying in business that culture overcomes policy every time. That’s true, and it’s part of the reason we think that surveying complainants would be helpful.

However, more is needed. Indeed, one of the great challenges facing Sean Rowe is the need to change the culture of a denomination that talks a good game when it comes to abuse, but in reality often is abusive toward anyone who comes forward with allegations.

Thus, we believe it’s essential to move beyond the church’s claims to be “loving, liberating, and life-giving” and instead focus on what those behaviors entail in real-life situations. Part of that conversation needs to be about the importance of caring for those hurt by the church — and, for the record, that typically doesn’t look like sending a “notice of dismissal.”

Looking to the future

Turning the direction of the ponderous and creaky Episcopal Church will be a Herculean task. Therefore, we believe it’s essential to act promptly.

Similarly, the church must avoid its inherent proclivity towards incrementalism and iterative solutions. Another round of tweaks will, if history is any guide, make things worse, not better.

Let’s hope that the Episcopal Church takes the need for a Title IV overhaul seriously, because what we have right now is proving worse than useless.