Beyond Theology: The Safeguarding Questions Raised by Conversion Therapy

As General Synod meets this week, one of its fringe events has reignited debate about so-called "conversion therapy" and whether people can or should seek to change their sexual orientation.

The event prompted an open letter, led by Revd Robert Thompson and signed by more than 80 members of General Synod, questioning why it had been permitted at all. The letter asks the Archbishops whether an event promoting "sexual identity transformation" is compatible with the Church of England's own safeguarding guidance and whether it reflects the Church's stated commitment to safeguarding.

You can read the open letter to the Archbishops or the Thinking Anglicans coverage for the background to the debate.

Whatever your theological convictions, safeguarding asks a different question.

Is somebody being harmed?

Safeguarding is not about policing belief. It is about recognising when power, influence and spiritual authority are exercised in ways that cause harm.

Too often, debates about conversion practices become arguments about doctrine or religious freedom.

Safeguarding asks different questions:

Can the person genuinely say no?

Is there an imbalance of power?

Are shame, fear or dependency influencing their decision?

Conversion practices are not always dramatic. They can happen quietly through prayer ministry, pastoral conversations, mentoring relationships or discipleship. They may be offered with genuine compassion and sincere conviction.

But good intentions do not remove the potential for harm.

The concern begins when ministry is directed towards changing, suppressing or denying someone's sexual orientation or gender identity because it is considered unacceptable. At that point, safeguarding should stop asking whether something is theologically defensible and start asking whether it is psychologically, emotionally or spiritually safe.

Church leaders occupy positions of trust. Their words carry authority. For someone terrified of disappointing God, losing their church community or being rejected by their family, agreeing to prayer or pastoral support may not feel like a genuinely free choice.

Consent given in the shadow of spiritual authority is not always freely given. That is especially true for children and young people, but it can also be true for adults who are isolated, grieving, living with poor mental health or desperately seeking belonging.

Ultimately, this is not simply a debate about sexuality. It is a question about how power is exercised.

Revd Robert Thompson captures that challenge in The Body We Are Becoming: Ecclesiology, Safeguarding and the Common Life of General Synod:

"Walking together requires more than making space for disagreement."

That observation reaches far beyond Synod procedure. It speaks to safeguarding itself. Safeguarding is not simply about policies or compliance. It is about recognising power, preventing harm and ensuring that care is never confused with coercion.

The Church has spent decades confronting the devastating consequences of spiritual abuse, coercive control and the misuse of authority. It has repeatedly apologised to survivors for protecting institutions more readily than the people those institutions existed to serve.

If those lessons matter, they cannot suddenly become negotiable because the subject is sexuality.

The question before Synod is not whether the Church can defend its theology.

It is whether the Church can recognise coercion when it sounds like pastoral care.

Because safeguarding loses all credibility if it only challenges harmful uses of power when they fit comfortably within our own theological tribe.

People are not safeguarded by our beliefs. They are safeguarded by what we do with our power.

That is the question Synod cannot afford to avoid.

~ Michelle Burns

Guarding the Flock

Writing this blog takes time, care, and a lot of tea. If it’s been helpful to you, you’re very welcome to buy me a cuppa as a small way of supporting it. No pressure at all – I’m just glad you’re here - Michelle