Safeguarding Sunday in the Church of England
READING: Psalm 91

My God in whom I put my trust

“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High and abides under the shadow of the Almighty shall say to the Lord, ‘My refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I put my trust.’

I wonder what image comes to mind when someone mentions the word shelter?  And I wonder if you have ever had need of a  shelter ? The Bible reading,  Psalm 91, opens with one of the most tender and courageous images in Scripture: God as shelter. And it is not the safety of walls or weapons that is being talked about here, but of wings. “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge.”  A mother bird gathers her chicks close, shielding them from the storm.  This is what divine protection looks like–intimate, embodied, and loving.  On this Safeguarding Sunday in the Church of England , the Church pauses to ask how that same tenderness can take shape  among us.

At first reading, Psalm 91 sounds like a guarantee of safety: no evil shall befall you; no plague come near your tent.  Yet we know people  get hurt, and very hurt at times.   However, the psalm’s promise is not that anything  painful will happen to people , rather  that we are never abandoned by God when we are in danger.  God’s protection is his continued presence with us , not insulation from hurt..  “I will be with them in trouble,” God says at the psalm’s end.  So Safeguarding begins here – in the decision never to leave another person alone in their fear, hurt  or shame.

When a survivor of abuse tells their  story in a parish listening group, it does not need a miracle that erases the past.  Rather, they need people who will stay along side them, who believe them , accompany them , and act rightly.  In that moment, the Church becomes the wings of God spread wide.

The faithfulness that guards

In the same psalm the writer  says, “His faithfulness shall be your shield and buckler.”  It is not God’s power but God’s reliability that protects.  And in safeguarding, that matters.  Trust is built not by grand statements but by small, consistent acts of integrity- clear procedures, transparent finances, honest apologies.

A vicar once said that their safeguarding officer was the “keeper of our integrity.”  She ensured risk assessments were done, volunteers trained, records updated.  Her quiet work was a shield around the community.  Faithfulness in detail is holiness in practice.

Naming danger and facing fear

The bible passage then says “You will not fear the terror of the night,”.  It does not deny that night terrors exist.  It names them.  Safeguarding asks the same moral courage of us: to look squarely at realities many would rather ignore–the grooming of children online, the loneliness of neglected elders, the unreported domestic violence behind polite doors.

In one urban parish, the congregation learned that a child from their children’s group  had confided in a leader about harm at home.  The safeguarding process that followed was painful and complex.  Yet afterwards, the priest said, “This was the Gospel in action.  We faced the dark together, and light came in.”  The psalm teaches us that facing fear with truth is itself an act of trust in God.

Angels of protection

We are reminded that  God’s care is often mediated through others–angels in ordinary clothing.  “He shall give his angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways.” Every volunteer who completes a safeguarding course, every PCC member who insists that children’s voices be heard, every teenager who challenges bullying in the youth group, is part of that angelic company.

One church in the north of England holds a short “commissioning of carers” each year.  Those involved in safeguarding, pastoral visiting, or youth work are blessed at the end of worship.  The congregation prays that they may be alert, wise, and compassionate.  It reminds everyone that care is a shared vocation.  Angels are plural.

Refuge as culture, not compliance

Safeguarding is sometimes spoken of as paperwork – that which the diocese is making us do, policies to satisfy insurance and law.  Psalm 91 invites a deeper vision.  A safe church is not primarily a well-run institution but a culture of refuge: where gossip gives way to confidentiality, power is exercised humbly, and every person’s dignity is guarded.

In another parish, a new refugee family arrived with little English and no experience of life in the UK.  The welcome team ensured that the church toilet had a baby-changing table and that tea after the service included food they could eat.  These small gestures communicated, “You are safe here.”  That too is safeguarding- the creation of spaces where difference is not danger but gift.

Being with, not fixing

Often we need people alongside us when life is tough and challenging. “I will be with them in trouble,”we heard in the scriptures today. God promise to his people. Jesus lives this promise when he touches the leper, listens to the woman at the well, weeps with Mary.  In safeguarding we learn that healing begins not with fixing but with presence.  When a church member sits quietly beside a survivor who cannot yet pray, the psalm comes alive: You are under my shadow; you are not alone.

Rowan Williams once said that penance begins when we let God meet us “where we most resist grace.”  Safeguarding can be such a meeting place.  It calls us to humility – acknowledging where the Church has failed – and to repentance that rebuilds trust.  Like the psalm’s faithful God, we become protectors through our willingness to stay.

A refuge for all

The closing verses of Psalm 91 shift voice: God speaks directly.  “Because they have set their love upon me, I will deliver them.”  Love is the condition of safety.  Not rules alone, but love that is attentive, disciplined, and real.  The psalm invites us to imagine the Church as a visible sign of that love–a sanctuary where children, elders, survivors, strangers, and staff all find belonging.

To dwell “under the shadow of the Almighty” is to live in mutual trust: the kind of community where power serves vulnerability, not the other way round.  Each safeguarding decision, from DBS checks to how we handle confession or hear a painful story of someone in pain , is a spiritual act- an extension of God’s wings over the world.

A closing prayer

God of refuge and strength,
You shelter the weary and give courage to the fearful.
Spread your wings over your Church,
that it may be a safe home for all your children.
Bless those who watch and care, listen and protect.
And when we face the darkness,
keep us steadfast in your faithful love,
through Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd. Amen.

At the heart of Psalm 91 is not the promise that nothing bad will happen, but the assurance that God’s steadfast love surrounds us even when it does.  On this Safeguarding Sunday, we are invited to make that love visible–to become, for one another, the sheltering wings of God.

Photo Credit: Oakland Images (Envato.com)