Vicar claims he needed supervision to know stealing was wrong

James Downs, Mental health campaigner

Thou Shalt Bill Thyself Monthly

A Church in Wales tribunal into the Reverend Ryan Forey has concluded that a Cardiff vicar may have misunderstood the Ten Commandments, mistakenly reading “thou shalt not steal” as a matter for supervision and training.

The Reverend Ryan Forey, once hailed as a “talented and charismatic young priest,” awarded himself £300 a month for services he didn’t provide, and a further £500 a month to his wife as a Clergy Spouse Allowance. According to the tribunal, none of these payments were “legitimate expenses”, but they were, at least, very regular.

Mr Forey admitted the allegations and explained that the period in question had been a “particularly difficult time”, though most people going through a rough patch would be advised to try retail therapy or chocolate, rather than inventing a marital allowance scheme.

Supervision shortage blamed for sins of commission

The tribunal determined that the real issue faced by Mr Forey was not dishonesty, but an “absence of support, supervision and guidance.” You see, when left alone for too long, a priest may simply forget that expenses aren’t a form of free money and start helping themselves to cash.

Forey himself insisted that he thought the payments were legitimate, since he had “seen similar practices used in previous churches in England” – a defence that will no doubt reassure congregations everywhere. If applied more broadly, such an argument could justify almost anything: “Yes, I replaced ‘Thou shalt not steal’ with ‘Thou shalt not be seen stealing,’ but don’t worry, all the other priests are doing it!”

Critics have suggested that most adults can grasp the concept of fraud without direct coaching from a senior priest or bishop. But with the Church in Wales still reeling from safeguarding and financial scandals in Bangor that forced the archbishop to step down, it seems easier to reframe this case as a kind of “fraud by lack of mentoring” – a new ecclesiastical category in which sin is downgraded to a training need.

Let the Little Children Be Displayed Online

Not content with creative accounting, Mr Forey also developed an app that handily displayed the names of children attending his church, including those in care.

Despite being warned that this was a potential safeguarding disaster, he refused to remove it, perhaps confident that the Lord Himself covers all matters relating to GDPR. The tribunal concluded that what he really needed was a little more guidance, as though recognising that “don’t publish lists of vulnerable children online” is one of those tricky rules you only grasp after a short course.

The Feeding of the Five Thousand 

If the findings of the tribunal weren’t enough, financial accounts covering the year to 31 December 2022 (though only filed with the Charity Commission on 6 July 2024) reveal a thoroughly biblical approach to catering at Citizen Church.

Highlights include:

• £6,100 on Alpha course catering, suggesting the feeding of the five thousand has been outsourced to Deliveroo.
• £7,600 on “11 am service food and drink”, as the hallmark of a modern church is communion with canapés
• £23,023 on Christmas and Easter services – enough to keep the congregation in smoked salmon blinis and champagne until Kingdom Come
• Meanwhile, a coffee van installed in the church yard cost nearly £50,000 in 2022 alone, ensuring that the cup truly runneth over.

To Be Church™ or Not To Be Church™?

Alongside his main role at Citizen Church in Cathays, Mr Forey also set up a second congregation, boldly branded Be Church™. This went down very badly with the rival Christian group Don’t Be Church™, which complained that its entire doctrine of non-attendance had been plagiarised. Quite what Mr Forey was aiming for is unclear: a new denomination, a spiritual start-up, or perhaps an opportunity to test a new subscription model for eternal life?

In a rare act of bureaucratic restraint, the Church in Wales pointed out that running your own unsanctioned franchise church is not, in fact, allowed.

Forey, for his part, says he has learned from his mistakes and is eager to return to England to resume ministry. Whether his new flock will come with a financial chaperone or a fraud-prevention officer remains to be seen. Rumours have been heard in the pews of new products in the pipeline, such as Do Church™ and Try Church™, but so far the evidence favours Be Church Premium™, complete with ad-free worship and priority access to the collection plate.

Salvation by Supervision

After resigning in April 2024, Mr Forey spent what he called a “season of reflection and growth,” before taking to the well-known pulpit of Instagram where he posted the full tribunal judgement alongside a statement condemning “gossip, rumours and online trolling.” He added that Citizen Church had “grown big, grown fast, and got things wrong”- management-speak that would not look out of place in the annual report of a collapsed tech unicorn.

In the end, the tribunal stopped short of expulsion and instead issued a formal caution, requiring Mr Forey to undergo two years of supervision and safeguarding training. This means that, unlike ordinary mortals, priests are not expected to already know that fraud and data breaches are bad. 

This may not be the kind of accountability parishioners were hoping for, but it does at least offer reassurance that with the right “support and guidance,” clergy can eventually grasp the subtle difference between a side hustle and a stipend.

James Downs is a mental health campaigner, researcher and expert by experience in eating disorders. He lives in Cardiff and can be contacted at @jamesldowns on X and Instagram, or via his website: jamesdowns.co.uk