Year: 2024

  • Theological Colleges: Being a Community in the Midst of Disagreement

    by Revd Mark Vasey-Saunders, Centre Head of St Hild Sheffield and author of Defusing the Sexuality Debate (SCM, London, 2023) 

    One of the places where the current Church of England debate over sexuality is being felt quite acutely is in theological colleges. Ordinands may come into training from churches with a variety of different views, and their wider support networks may include people who are heavily involved in the debate. This means that ordinands may be faced with questions from friends and family like ‘where does College stand on this?’ or ‘what teaching are you being given on sexuality?’ where the expectation is that, if the College is not aligned with the ‘correct’ position, the ordinand should distance themselves from them in some way. They will have sponsoring bishops whose views are likely only now becoming clear (and some of whom may have acted politically within the debate in ways that are coming under intense scrutiny.) This can leave ordinands feeling very vulnerable if their bishop (who has the authority to agree or disagree to their ordination) holds a different view than them. For some ordinands towards the end of their training they may already have a curacy set up, but this will have been agreed before the vicar and PCC would have discussed how they want to respond, and views on sexuality may not have come up. Some churches may have since announced they will be using the Prayers of Love and Faith (PLF). Others may have announced they will be diverting their share to the Ephesian Fund.

    On top of all this external pressure, ordinands will have their own views. Some will have very clear and decided views already, but these may have been formed before they began their theological training. Part of any educational process is to unlearn some of your earlier assumptions, and this places such ordinands in a difficult position (whether they are progressive or conservative) – do they resist the theological training they are given if they feel it might undermine some of their previous certainties, or embrace it, accepting the risk that this might change them in a way their wider support networks might find difficult? Some will never have given questions of sexuality serious thought before, and are now having to explore these questions in a highly politicised environment. All of this tends to put pressure on theological college communities, which can feel like pressure cookers at the best of times, with students wrestling with the stresses of constantly being assessed whilst going through a process of ministerial formation that often exposes areas of vulnerability and doubt.

    I work within St Hild College, which is a non-residential community training people full-time or part-time for ministry mainly in Lincoln and the three Yorkshire dioceses of Sheffield, Leeds and York. I’ve asked two of our students (names have been changed), who would take different positions on sexuality, to give their reflections on being part of the college community at this time:

    Andrew writes:

    I am entering my third and final year of theological training prior to ordination and have spent the last two years at college. As such, with the initial synod vote on the Prayers of Love and Faith coming in the February of my first year of study, this debate has, in one sense, dominated my time at college. I hold to a conservative theological position regarding gender and sexuality, and arrived at college having journeyed alongside friends who have been exploring these questions in their own lives, and having already done significant theological reflection myself in this area.

    I have found college to be a relative silo in the midst of these wider discussions in the Church of England. I have had the opportunity to re-explore more progressive approaches to gender and sexuality on their own terms through study and through conversations with other ordinands and students. I am thankful for the insight this has given me as I now feel more confident that I am able to explain progressive arguments in their own terms, rather than as a caricature. I have learnt how to better communicate my theological convictions in a way that makes it easier for me to be heard and understood by those who do not share my convictions. Similarly, I think many of my fellow students who hold to a more progressive theology are better able to articulate the conservative argument.

    I think this has been possible due to the relatively unique nature of St Hild as a “scattered” college community. By having lectures on only one day of the week, and not living in a relatively closed community, there isn’t the build-up of pressure around hot button issues that I have heard can occur in residential colleges. This potentially also allows for more direct conversations; we aren’t going to bump into each other tomorrow morning on the way to chapel or beginner’s Greek after a particularly sharp conversation the evening before. Further to this, we are all in our own parishes. Our conversations are divorced from many immediate pastoral situations. We are, in many ways, able to extract ourselves from our pastoral contexts for a day, discuss theoretically with others, and then return to our parishes.

    The most fruitful result of these conversations has been the mutual realisation and agreement that gender and sexuality is merely the presenting fruit of a more fundamental disagreement. I have been encouraged by several conversations that I have had with fellow ordinands who are as liberal as I am conservative, where we have mutually agreed that to truly respect each other we need to acknowledge the deep differences between our understandings of who Jesus is, what he calls sin, and what redemption and salvation look like in the lives of Christians. Not just this, but also that there are significant, potentially mutually exclusive, differences in our basic philosophical and theological presuppositions regarding the nature of God and revelation. This has been accompanied by a mutual dissatisfaction with what we perceive to be the position of the House of Bishops: that these are minor disagreements  and really we can ‘all just get along.’ This feels disrespectful of both of our theological positions, underestimates the differences in how we believe we need to respond pastorally to those most deeply affected by questions of gender and sexuality in our respective communities, and by downplaying all of this is increasing the division we perceive in the church, not reducing it.

    This perception has only increased for me since the July 2024 Synod. The conversations mentioned above initially took place in April 2022. Even then, at the very start of the discussions about PLF, both these self-described liberal ordinands and I knew that legally protected forms of differentiation, as defined by those who would need it, such as transferred episcopal oversight, would now be a necessity. (Though we did not have the precise language at the time.) It is frustrating that, to an outside observer, similar conversations and acknowledgments would not appear to have been forthcoming from the House of Bishops or at General Synod. This is essential not only for the wider Church of England, but also for colleges such as St Hild. The conversations across the breadth of tradition and theology in St Hild that make it a unique place is highly dependent on there being a breadth of tradition and theology amongst ordinands. Unless the House of Bishops take seriously the need for suitable, legal, provision these conversations will quietly cease, not because ordinands don’t want to have them, but because there will not be ordinands of different theological convictions around to have them.

     

    Ben writes:

    There are few things more dangerous on the motorway than a theological debate taking place at 70mph. This is the temptation, however, at 7am on a Monday morning when driving to St Hild Sheffield. With three students in the car, two of whom are Church of England Ordinands, the subject of Prayers of Love and Faith has come up multiple times. Whether it’s the interpretation of scripture, or the drama of a synod debate, there is often something discuss, and each of us in the car holds a different opinion. (Pray for us ordinands when we think this is where we should get our excitement.) There have been no motorway accidents thankfully, but I have learnt that sometimes what it is most important to remember is that we are sharing the same car. Safety for all means keeping your eyes on the road, not scoring a point in the current debate, however heated it’s got. This principle has also applied to discussions of PLF outside of the car too.

     For myself, I have grown up in evangelical churches but also come to a broader view on the issue of LGBTQ+ inclusion than I had 15 or some years ago. For me the question over same sex blessings is not a “first order” or “salvation” issue, and I am happy to let the issue sit with the conscience of each individual. I am also convinced that churches need to be a genuinely safe space for any LGBTQ+ individual who walks through the door.

    While studying, I have found discussing these issues with other students from different perspectives to be hugely beneficial. Conversations have always been respectful and constructive, with nobody’s views being dismissed out of hand. At times, the college has provided guided conversations with updates on PLF too, where tutors with differing opinions have set a tone of understanding and provided context to the debate. As ordinands, questions as big as these do create worry about our future ministry and where we might fit into the Church of England. Many of us will not have publicly declared a position on these debates before, or been asked to make decisions which will change how our church members and communities will see us. I found sharing these worries with other ordinands to be reassuring, especially as we are all still finding our feet. Also, having tutors who can help calm some of these worries and address the wilder speculations on where the church might be heading is essential. This is just as beneficial for those still working out their opinion on PLF, and for those who feel stuck in the middle of the debate, simply worried that a church they love is about to tear itself apart.

     For me, if holding Christian unity over this issue means anything, it means that we must see those with a different view as still loved by God, and accept that God may still be speaking to others, even if they seem to be heading in a different direction to ourselves. A college with a diverse range of students with differing views has been a vital way to model this in a safe environment. My biggest fear in all of this are the calls for structural differentiation of ordinand training, which may create a college environment where ordinands never meet someone from the other side of the debate. After all, once you arrive in a parish, no church is going to hold a uniform view on this either, and the world certainly won’t. If we can’t speak to each other civilly about issues of sexuality, what hope does the church have of speaking to the world?  Similarly, if formation and training is to be a place where we can be made more like Christ, there has to be the possibility that we might get something wrong at times and there needs to be grace for trainees to change our minds.

     

    The St Hild experience may not be the same for all Theological Colleges. The fact that ordinands have been prominent signatories to various statements within the ongoing LLF debates demonstrates that in some places ordinands have felt their very ability to continue training for ministry to be threatened by developments in the wider church. As Andrew notes above, there is something peculiar about the nature of a non-residential college that both creates enough security and sense of shared community to allow vulnerability and genuine conversation and allows enough space for tensions to dissipate. It is part of the nature of theological training to allow and encourage debate and reflection however, and to this extent I suspect that these sorts of experiences are true of many of the Church of England’s TEIs.

    It’s important not to romanticise the kind of discussions both Andrew and Ben describe above as valuable parts of their training. These are costly conversations, and there have been times where that has been felt keenly by the community as a whole. Students with passionate convictions on either side may at times have to carefully weigh up the costs of speaking openly to both themselves and the wider community, and find themselves self-editing or remaining silent as a consequence. Some students are deeply vulnerable in ways others aren’t, and in ways that may not be immediately clear to those around them – not least because when the topic of discussion is sexuality, some students will find themselves the ones being discussed. Staff must carefully weigh up how to frame teaching in these areas in order to allow students of any and all convictions to engage with the strongest exponents of positions they may find offensive or personally threatening, whilst maintaining a safe learning environment. All of this in the knowledge that if they get the balance wrong, and students feel they are being attacked, or a particular view is being forced on them, then the reputational damage to the College can be immense.

    Creating a space where people can learn means creating a space where people feel vulnerable (even if that vulnerability is simply the admission of your own ignorance). But creating a space where people can be vulnerable carries the risk that people can be hurt. To borrow Ben’s metaphor of debating while driving at 70 mph, we want everyone in the car to hold an awareness of the inherent riskiness in what they are doing. The really dangerous thing is for people to not feel that they are in danger. To not have the conversations and pretend none of this stuff matters very much. Or to have the conversations without much awareness that some outcomes will dramatically affect all the occupants of the car you’re driving in.

    There is an extent to which having difficult conversations with a high awareness of risk is what the wider church needs to learn to do. LLF was originally conceived as an invitation to engage in learning together. But in many places LLF courses weren’t run. The difficult conversations didn’t happen. But when we avoid the difficult conversations we don’t avoid risk. We’re just not aware of it. As I reflect on Andrew and Ben’s experience of difficult conversations and what they’ve learnt from them I find myself feeling hopeful for the future of the church. Neither of them have massively changed their mind on these questions through their time at college. But they’ve learned and grown through the conversations they’ve had, and they’ve become a lot more used to talking to people they disagree with and still recognising them as brothers and sisters in Christ. Ultimately, having had difficult conversations once, they are likely to see the value of doing it more in the future and helping to build a church where having difficult conversations is normal.

    We need to get used to church not being a comfortable place. Because, for some people, it never has been.

     

  • Makin – 1600 Days Late: Will it be Worth the Wait?

    by ‘Graham’

    I have asked if a letter I wrote in 2019 might be reproduced in full, and here it is, below. Victims and General Synod have been told time and time again that the Makin Review has had a lot of work to do, that new information keeps coming to light. However, it was clear to victims from the beginning that this would be a long and complex task, requiring far more than two part-time Reviewers. There were over 100 victims, over four decades, in three countries. Was it not obvious that this was a serious piece of work?

    And the letter shows that simple building blocks for a good Review were just not in place (leaving aside that the Review started two months late). There was no GDPR provision (that was not put in place until Autumn 2020); no ability to record or scan; no encryption; no reference group; no oversight; no timetable; no urgency. It is interesting rereading it today: there never was a Reference or Oversight Group despite my demands: no one to ensure the Review was delivered competently, and on time.

    Otherwise, the letter stands on its own. The Makin Review is now 1600 days overdue. It has been promised on multiple occasions, since 2021, in statements from Keith Makin or the National Safeguarding Team that proved to be complete fiction. Numerous promises have been made to General Synod, and every one of those remains undelivered. In fact, I gather the Makin Review is still mired in the representations process (usually referred to as “Maxwellisation”) and the stated end date for Maxwellisation of 6 June 2024, was, like everything else, just made up.

     

    This is what I wrote in 2019:

    Dear Keith and Sarah

    As most are aware, for family reasons I am pulling back from the Review until the New Year. I have made every attempt to accelerate the process. I had asked for a full day to brief you, but was told you did not have a single free day together until December 11th. I have tried, but I am now pulling back from the Review.

    It is almost fifteen weeks since the Review was announced:

    • There is still nothing on the CofE website about contact details, methodology or process
    • There are still no public contact details for Keith or Sarah
    • GDPR issues remain
    • There is no agreed timetable for contacting victims
    • No counselling resources are available yet, that I am aware
    • The proposed Reference Group is not yet in place

    Then, the Terms of Reference have been changed, and the revised version “implanted” in the original 13 August statement. There is no indication there that the ToR has been revised and it is unclear whether this has been drawn to the attention of interested parties (two victims I have spoken to did not know). How can that possibly be best practice?

    I note also that the revised ToR states that “work commenced in October 2019”. This has been sneaked into the new ToR. Again, how can this possibly be best practice? I also ask why when I had meetings with Melissa on 19 September, Keith on 4 October and +Peter on 18 October no one had the honesty or integrity to drop the pretence that work had been underway for weeks, and admit the process was two months late in starting.

    I have now spent almost twelve hours with you. And the time has been discursive rather than investigative. Keith, you took less than one page of A4 notes in an entire four hour meeting this Tuesday. Sarah hammers away at her laptop. This produced a summary of just over five pages, but it read like bullet points: points jotted down on the laptop, then regurgitated a few days later.

    So, I asked (again) whether the meeting would be voice recorded. I have previously given my consent to this. I was again told that GDPR and data collection issues had not been agreed and that the meeting could not be recorded on Sarah’s laptop (and there was an aside that she should not actually be taking notes on that laptop: I assume all matters to do with security, confidentiality and encryption). I was told you are waiting for the CofE to provide some kind of box to sit on the table (I believe they are known as tape recorders).

    So, twelve hours of testimony has not actually been comprehensively recorded? I wonder what other, more extensive write up has been done of each meeting as an awful lot more than that was discussed over twelve hours?

    I have bundles and bundles of documents. Many of them are contemporaneous. After the first two meetings with you it was agreed that we would then have a very substantive session, going through my four box files (so probably over 1000 pieces of paper) relevant to the Review. I asked for a photocopier or scanner to be provided. It was not in either meeting. And it appeared you had little interest in looking at, or capturing a record of really important documents. At one stage Sarah did use her phone to photo one document, but I said that was absurd and copied a few on my iPad instead, and subsequently emailed them to you. However, key documents (a 1982 letter detailing who was told, when and by whom) were discussed, but no record taken. This is important evidence surely?

    And I hoped we would go through the raft of correspondence (particularly pertinent to how the CofE has responded in the last eight years) with Lambeth, with Canterbury, with Titus Trust, with Ely, with David Porter, with NST. I had brought all of this to the meeting to pass on but, while discussed, there was no capacity to take copies of any of them. And actually, not much interest shown in seeing them.

    I repeat my earlier comment, the meeting felt like another “scoping” exercise, still, fifteen weeks later, trying to get a grip on the most basic outline chronology and story. In the first meeting I handed over a document I had prepared at the suggestion of Emily Denne. It was called Scope of the Review and comprised approximately 150 questions that the Review might consider. We have not been through that list: it remains substantially untouched. After twelve hours, we have hardly started on what I feel the Review should cover.

    I acknowledge that this is a vast, nine month long exercise. I am being told again and again that this is a complex review, possibly one of the widest and most difficult the CofE has attempted. Then where are the resources? I have not been told that you are getting extra help, or are working more than a few hours each week? I see no urgency, no expertise, no investigation. The output is a few pages of notes after each meeting. It deserves a care, a professionalism, a respect that is not being shown.

    I have waited eight years to tell my story, and over a tortuous last three years my life is shattered, my marriage is effectively ended, I am more stressed than I have been for months. I would like access immediately to counselling services for my wife, marriage counselling for us both, and individual support for myself. Why am I the one lying awake all night?

    I am withdrawing from the Review until the New Year. I have also advised the victims with whom I am in touch, not to participate. They will not contact you.

    I hope that, by the New Year, great strides will have been made. Come back to me when you can tell me that:

    • the Review is properly resourced
    • That interviews can be appropriately recorded
    • That documents can be properly collected
    • That all GDPR issues have been addressed
    • That Counselling services are in place
    • That the Reference Group is in place

    In the New Year, if you can reassure me of these then I may reengage. And I will make a judgement call as to whether to contact other victims.

    Please do not contact me. I need to take some time off, immediately to support my family, but primarily for my well being. I will take emails, but not calls, from Emily. Any contact with me should be through Emily. However, I am going to try to put this aside completely for a few weeks. Damn the lot of you.

    Graham 22/11/19

    Cc Bishop Peter Hancock, Emily Denne, Melissa Carslake

    Richard Scorer, Slater & Gordon

     

  • 30 Years, 40 Years: And Not Equal Yet

    by Chris Polhill, one of the first women to be ordained in the Church of England, and author of Through the Gateways of a Garden (2024)

    This September I celebrate 40 years in ministry, first as a Deaconess, then ordained deacon three years later. Seven years after that, I was one of the first women to be ordained priest in the Church of England. So, those quick at maths will see that I have been a priest for 30 years. These anniversaries have left me very reflective about the Church of England.

    To the outsider we can look as though all is well for women in this church. Women are priests, bishops, deans, and one of the three ‘top’ posts, Bishop of London, is a woman. So the CofE looks like an equal opportunities employer, but it is not. Indeed it is exempt from parliament’s Equal Opportunities Act, and this conceals the minefield that has left me reflective, despondent, angry and not quite seeing the way ahead.

    In November 1992 I joined many others standing outside Church House in London while the Church of England General Synod debated and voted on whether the C of E should ordain women as priests. The legislation had already been debated in diocesan synods and passed with a substantial majority, so it was now coming for the main vote at General Synod, needing a two-thirds majority in each of the three Houses: Laity, Clergy and Bishops. Outside the building with us were many journalists from all over the world. I was interviewed for an Australian radio station, and many others contributed to newspaper reports. Women and men from theological colleges stood with a banner saying ‘Waiting’. We sang; we hoped that this time it would be different from the vote in the 1970s; we prayed. And the vote was in favour of women as priests in all 3 Houses by more than the required two-thirds majorities. We sang outside with joy, while inside it was received in silence to respect those who were against the result. “Vicars with knickers” was the Sun’s headline next day.

    We were very firmly told by our bishops that we were not to celebrate as the pain of those who had lost the vote was so great.

    1993 was a difficult year and it was hard to believe that the Church of England had made a positive decision to ordain women. The talk among clergymen seemed to be around how many of their congregation would leave if their woman deacon was ordained priest. Colleagues, my own among them, changed from being positive about women priests to seeing us as a problem. Their feelings, now that women as priests was a real possibility, did not match their thinking when it had only been an idea. “Gut-lag”, we called it. The old boys’ network in both the church and parliament got together and the House of Bishops was focussed on keeping as many clergy from leaving as they could. According to the press, about 1000 had threatened to leave, some taking their congregations with them. The Church agreed to compensate those who left with large sums of money. The Roman Catholic church agreed that married men from the CofE could serve with them as priests, though all who took this path had to go through some further training.

    There are two extremes in the CofE among those who were then, and still remain, against women as priests. There are those who are waiting for the pope to decide about women before they can accept it; this despite the fact that the CofE was formed as a departure from Rome and from having to accept the pope’s decisions. At the other extreme are those who see the Bible’s instructions about male headship as paramount. The pressure from parliament’s Ecclesiastical Committee was for legal safeguards for those opposed to women, and in consequence the CofE is the only province in the Anglican communion that has legal provision for those who will not accept women as priests. The other provinces managed the issue pastorally. The House of Bishops agreed with those who said that they could not accept a bishop who ordained women as priests, and that they were ‘tainted’ by having done so. This led to bishops representing each end of the argument being consecrated, and some diocesan bishops choosing only to ordain deacons so that they could remain a focus for unity in their diocese. I was told this would be a short-term arrangement, but it is a fixture still. This changed the nature of being a bishop, as bishops were never before selected by theological flavour, as it were. I keep having fanciful ideas of poems and bishops and flavours…

    I am seriously angry that the bishops of the time agreed with the idea that ordaining women tainted the bishop who did so. It is very suspect theology. Look at it this way, if a bishop said to a Black man, ‘I’m sorry, but ordaining you will affect me so that I can’t ordain white men as I usually do, they just wouldn’t accept me, and no, I wouldn’t receive communion from you because, for me, only white men can be priests.’ He would rightly be called out for the appalling racism he had expressed, yet put woman instead of Black man, and men instead of white men, and that is exactly what the CofE is practising. Men who think this are still being ordained. No-one seems to acknowledge the misogynistic sexism that the house of bishops agreed to and continues to agree to in the Church of England.

    The Ecclesiastical committee enabled further delays by talking of expediency. Yes, Synod had voted for women as priests but was it an expedient time?!!! However, come 1994, after many letters to MPs, women were ordained and we did celebrate. I was ordained priest in St. Albans Abbey on 23rd April 1994, and St. Albans diocese had a magnificent celebration 30 years on. I loved it. Smiling women led the service in the Abbey, and many people were there to celebrate as it had been well advertised. I caught up with some friends from long ago. It was very different in the diocese where I have served for the last 25 years though, Lichfield. We were prayed for at the clergy conference.

    In the intervening years I, along with many other women, got on with the job and kept my head down. This 30 year anniversary, however, has caused me to revisit the decisions that were made and wonder why they are still there. I would like to see the House of Bishops wake up to what was agreed then; to see the damage it has done to the office of bishop, and to stop making bishops for specific groups. I was shocked to discover we still accept men for ordination who do not think women can be priests, when there are other denominations they could more justly serve. I would love to see the CofE for once lead the society we allegedly serve, in exposing and wiping out misogyny and sexism from every area of life, so women and men can work together as partners in serving the gospel.

  • Crown Nominations Commission Back in the Firing Line

    by Anthony Archer, former member of the General Synod and the Crown Nominations Commission

    There has never been a shortage of armchair commentators on the Crown Nominations Commission (CNC), which started life in 1976 as the Crown Appointments Commission (CAC), a belated recommendation of the 1970 Chadwick Commission Church and State.  In its early years it was lambasted for nominating men in grey suits. When I pointed out that its first handiwork was the nomination in 1977 of Hugh Montefiore to Birmingham, I was reminded that one swallow doesn’t make a summer!

    In the 1980s and 1990s evangelicals (in those days a broad group) moaned about the few nominations being made of episcopal candidates of their flavour. Such redoubtable CAC central members of the day as Viscountess Brentford merely retorted, ‘show us the candidates.’ But the process developed, and the years of Tony Sadler as Archbishops’ Secretary for Appointments gave way to the significant period of service of Caroline Boddington. Paperwork and due diligence improved. General Synod introduced interviews, against the initial advice of the then archbishops. The preferment process generally became more robust; not that every diocesan bishop would necessarily participate by putting names forward.

    Radical change is not a feature of the CNC process. Most has been change imposed from outside. Gordon Brown could not see how a son of the manse should have any involvement in the process. The convention was changed, such that only one name was sent to Downing Street, although it took General Synod some years to catch up with its standing orders. The Lords Spiritual (Women) Act 2015 was a meaningful change, and its provision is soon to be extended.

    But throughout, the process received regular comment, mostly negative, almost certainly because of its perceived secrecy. Yes, it is confidential, as most appointments processes should be, but there is a difference between transparency of process and confidentiality of deliberation.

    And then we come to the current situation, the CNC 2022-2027 quinquennium  (central members are elected by General Synod for five years). I was privileged to serve from 2005-2007 and from 2017-2021. In all, including Dover, I have served on 18 CNCs. We have never failed. Why should we? The Church of England, a very flat organisation structurally, is stuffed with talent, and since 2014 that talent pool for episcopal appointments has theoretically doubled in size. No CNC ever failed until Hereford in 2014. It is probable that that CNC could not agree a second name, which was then fatal to the entire process. But it was possible to meet again quite quickly, and the nomination was resolved. The failure with Oxford in 2015 was more complex. Much got leaked about it. It was not edifying. A dysfunctional CNC apparently managed to promote two women candidates during final voting, neither of whom achieved the required majority of votes. Quite why they were invited for interview, I don’t know. But it was painful, not least for the candidates in question, as it is now.

    What are we witnessing now that has changed? Over the years, the General Synod has managed to elect a ‘balanced ticket’ of central members, more or less. Of six members, two have tended to be evangelical, two liberal catholic, and two traditionalist. Discernment should not be on party lines (the issue at stake here), but diversity of tradition in the central members helps eliminate criticism. The change today is a hugely more polarised General Synod, arguably more right wing (if that is the right term) than the extended 2015-2021 Synod. The new arrangements for electing CNC central members in pairs have not produced the result hoped for. Tribalism has become acute. Of the six ‘pairs’ of central members, fully four consist of members who are either conservative evangelical or traditional catholic. They tend to work together. The CNC arithmetic requires a candidate to obtain 10 votes (out of usually 14). If such a candidate does not find favour with the conservatives, it means that there are always four votes against such a person. That candidate may be a woman and/or hold views supportive of the introduction of LLF prayers (possibly indicative of a view on equal marriage). It requires only one of the diocesan members to side with this group for the candidate to fail. If no other candidate who has been interviewed can secure ten votes, the commission fails entirely. Two have now failed in the space of a year: Carlisle and Ely.

    The bishops (most of them) are incandescent with rage, including the Archbishop of Canterbury. It was his concern during the 2012-2017 CNC quinquennium which led to the magisterial report of Revd Professor Oliver O’Donovan, Discerning in Obedience. But General Synod failed to implement the key recommendations, the abolition of secret voting, and lowering the bar if, after successive rounds of voting, the CNC cannot agree.

    Which takes us to the recent House of Bishops meeting at St Hugh’s College, Oxford. Arriving at the Porter’s Lodge, I was one of the ‘members of the public’ granted a ticket to observe the meeting. A first for anyone. We gathered in an entrance hall. The College of Bishops (all the bishops) had earlier been meeting and had had its own session on the CNC crisis.  They were overrunning.

    We were shepherded in to what was to become a House of Bishops meeting (the diocesan bishops and some elected suffragans). The venue was a large hall. Nothing could have been less like a synod meeting. A hundred or so bishops seated at round tables, most in shirt sleeves, giving the impression of the latter stages of a wedding breakfast, with the bottles of wine (actually water) running out. There was a high table. The Bishop of Winchester presided, in dress-down. The Secretary General of the Archbishops’ Council was immaculate, chinos, sports jacket and tie. The mandatory legal beagle sat impassive.

    We were welcomed. Heads turned. Never before had a meeting of the House of Bishops had to cope with outsiders (at least apart from formally appointed observers). Some five members of the current cadre of CNC central members were present. Four current or former members of the General Synod were there, only one of whom (me!) was a former central member of the CNC. A lay representative of the Ely CNC came. Two members of the press braved the journey to Oxford (best to come by train and walk), being representatives of The Times and the Church Times. The  Church Times devoted a full page to the report, almost missing its deadline for print. The Times was to follow up on its earlier piece in the week with the headline “Church crisis after ‘alarming failure to nominate bishops’.” The BBC website also picked the story up.

    And so, the debate began. It had been called for by some bishops under standing orders, a kind of emergency debate. It was informed by a paper which outlined some solutions to the problems, which had been circulated to General Synod members ahead of the meeting, but which hadn’t been discussed with the current CNC central members. The Bishop of London (in proper clerical dress) introduced the business, an assured and purposeful performance. There were amendments. There always are in General Synod business and in the Houses. Submitting one guarantees you are called to speak. The Bishop of Oxford wanted the House to emphasise its ‘regret’ at the state of affairs. Agreed on a show of hands. The Bishop of Rochester wanted to slow things down: more time for consultation. But he was seen off: this was just kicking the issues into the long grass. What else could be learned that is not already known? He gathered 13 votes in favour of his amendment, but there were 24 against. The Bishop of Oxford then returned with his second amendment. If the CNC fails to agree, leave it to a panel (for example) of archbishops and the five most senior bishops to send a name to the Prime Minister. Well, that would have been red rag to the General Synod bull, likely to be interpreted as an episcopal power grab. It was defeated, but only by 14 votes to 19. To be fair to the Bishop of Oxford, he was just suggesting a pragmatic solution, a last resort process which would concentrate the minds of the members of the CNC.

    And so, we returned to the main motion, amended by the insertion of ‘regretting’ and the deletion of ‘acknowledging.’ What was really happening? At one level, the House of Bishops was doing what it had to under SO3 of its standing orders (don’t get me started). Although it cannot command the General Synod, the proposals it brings to Synod are persuasive, usually.

    A key theme of the debate was whether the House was bringing proposals that merely addressed the symptoms (the failure of the CNC to nominate) or whether it had really dealt with the underlying causes. The Bishop of Bath and Wells took up this theme. But he didn’t seem to acknowledge what was clear from the paper informing the motion, namely a complete failure of some recent CNCs to ‘discern’ a candidate (although some nominations, such as Peterborough and Exeter seemed to have been plain sailing). The meeting saw an impassioned speech from the Bishop of Dover, angry that certain CNC members will only vote for people who ‘interpret the Gospel my way.’ There were some heartfelt contributions from the Bishops of Stepney, Taunton, Peterborough, and Derby. The latter had had to face predictable comment in the Lords recently during the passage of the Lords Spiritual (Women) Act 2015 (Extension) Bill. The Bishop of Gloucester also spoke. It was not lost in the public gallery that more women were called in the debate than men.

    We know (the CNC has become very leaky recently because members and candidates are angry) that certain CNC members are voting purely on tribal lines. We have seen this before, but only now has this faction had the influence to thwart nominations. Frustratingly for them, and a mercy for the Church of England, they do not have the numbers to nominate ‘their own person,’ although they have tried successively. But what they have already achieved (which is wicked) is to provoke some candidates no longer to allow their names to go forward in the present climate.

    The Bishop of London summed up. The motion was convincingly  carried by 27 votes to nine, with three abstentions. The nine votes were assumed to be some of those who voted for the earlier Rochester amendment. Proposals (still to be worked on) will come to General Synod in February 2025, to include removing the secret ballot at CNCs, changing the threshold when the commission can’t agree, and giving the presiding archbishop an additional vote, if needed.

    The battleground will be the secret ballot. It is frankly dishonest to vote to shortlist a candidate who you know you will not vote for at the final meeting, but who otherwise meets the criteria. Worse is the fact that members can block a candidate while being able to deny the fact due to the secret ballot, having possibly made positive comments about the candidate in open discussion. I’ve witnessed this, but not in an environment where it made a material difference to the outcome. There were times during my CNC years when we initially looked as if there might not be 10 votes for a candidate. What did we do? We discussed it. We explained (maybe not all of us) why we had voted as we had, and we listened to others as to why they had voted for another candidate. We reached agreement and voted again. Simple, honest, transparent, prayerful discernment. But it doesn’t suit those who come with their own agenda. And when they are called out they complain that someone has leaked confidential information about this or that CNC.

    General Synod has been here before, but this time it’s serious. The Church of England in general, and the CNC in particular, look a laughing stock to the nation. It should know what it has to do.

     

     

  • Can the Church of England be Mature about Love?

    by Revd Canon Neil Patterson, Vice-Dean of Bristol Cathedral and Chair of Together for the Church of England

    As readers are probably aware, a set of liturgical resources known as the Prayers of Love & Faith (PLF) were commended by the House of Bishops for use in the Church of England in December last year and are available here. Whatever the shortcomings of the texts felt by some, these are important as the first official encouragement to pray with same-sex couples for the flourishing of our relationships. Inasmuch as the Church of England’s doctrine is defined by liturgical texts rather than dogmatic statements, they constitute the decisive point on the Living in Love & Faith journey where the Church has acknowledged that same-sex couples exist and are a good thing, even if we are still corporately a bit unsure what sort of thing that is.

    So it was a delight to recently attend a service where the Prayers were used for two friends of ours at a regular service at a cathedral. It was not quite ‘regular’ to the extent that the congregation was swelled by a substantial number of family and friends, close relatives read the lessons, and the music was provided by a superb choir assembled from friends for the occasion. But liturgically, it conformed entirely to the rubrics for the Prayers – it was a joyful service of Evensong, with the couple sitting in ordinary seats with everyone else, and the short prayers for and by them taking place alongside the intercessions towards the end.

    I do still hope for a Church of England in which same-sex marriage in church happens and, in the short term, for  ‘standalone’ services, i.e. for the use of the PLF to be accepted for a free-standing service devised for a particular couple (though it is already unclear how adding hymns, Scripture readings and other prayers – all of them already permitted in other services – to the commended PLF would render them unauthorised). This is especially important if we are to welcome those for whom a regular liturgy like Evensong would be inaccessible, as well as for the practicalities of time and date. But I reflected that the service I attended felt like a more mature Christian celebration of what was happening than many church weddings I took in my parish ministry.

    What I mean is that my friends were not at the beginning of their relationship – they remembered that, as a very new couple, they had attended my own civil partnership in 2017 – and have shared a house for some time. Their own legal partnership was in fact a little while ago, but this was the occasion when they felt ready to celebrate publicly, with family and friends, and to seek God’s blessing for the years ahead, as devout and serious Christians.  And for that the modest prayers, within a service which was chiefly an act of praise to God, seemed thoroughly appropriate.

    But is this not usually the situation for those marrying in church? I can only recall a single wedding I have taken where the couple were not already cohabiting, and that was because the groom was in the RAF and so (as I understood) not provided with married accommodation. And after marriage there is limited change in legal identity – as far as I can tell there is no pressure from  conservative Anglicans to revert to the situation before the Married Women’s Property Acts of 1870 and 1882, when all property was held in common (but controlled by the husband) or before the case of R v. R in 1991 when a wife’s body was held to belong to her husband (following 1 Corinthians 7) and so he was immune from any charge of rape. Yet we still purport to undertake some sort of existential change in a church wedding, taking two ‘single’ people and making them into something else, but I am not sure that we know what.

    Living in Love & Faith has focussed the attention of the Church with painful rigour on those of us in same-sex relationships, scrutinised as never before and now held by some to be responsible for many ills including, apparently, the decline in vocations to ordained ministry.  But I wonder if in fact we may be pointing the way to a more mature, less fairytale, understanding of all committed relationships. There have been official CofE documents on marriage occasioned by accepting the reality of divorce in 1999, or resisting same-sex marriage in 2013, and both are skewed by their contexts.  The LLF book treats it more widely, but evades the messy reality of forming relationships that leads to marriage. Until we can talk about this more honestly, we will have little credibility on the subject at all.

     

  • What do Others Think of Us?

    by Revd Rosalind Rutherford, a trustee of WATCH and a former member of General Synod during the passage of legislation for Women in the Episcopate

    Ten years ago, the Measure which would finally allow women to be appointed as bishops in the Church of England had been passed by General Synod (at a second attempt) and was working its way through Parliament, before receiving the Royal Assent. A few weeks after it became legal to appoint a bishop who was a woman, the Rev Libby Lane was announced as the new Bishop of Stockport, amid hopes that it really was a sign that gender discrimination had ended in the Church of England – or at least, was on the way out.

    One of the reasons that the Church of England moved quicker than anyone had imagined after the first attempt to legislate for women to be bishops failed (in November 2012) was that Parliament began to put pressure on the Church. The Church of England is the established church so it should not be so obviously lacking in gender equality among senior clergy. Specifically, Parliament wanted the Bench of Bishops in the House of Lords to include women as quickly as possible. In a climate in which bishops of the Church of England automatically having a place in the Lords was becoming less and less defensible, an all-male Bench of Bishops was even less justifiable. However, most diocesan bishops become members of the House of Lords in order of seniority, so without intervention it would still be several years before a bishop who was a woman became a member of the House of Lords. The “glass ceiling” would still remain unbroken in Parliament.

    This is why a simple piece of legislation was introduced in 2015, which stated that when a vacancy for a bishop arose in the House of Lords, the most senior woman would take precedence over any men. The initial legislation was time-limited because it was expected that, after ten years, enough women would be diocesan bishops for the most senior bishops to include women and men.

    But last week the House of Lords began the process of passing legislation to extend this legislation by another five years – the reason being that there are not yet not enough diocesan bishops who are women for there to be equal numbers of men and women introduced to the House of Lords. There are still only seven diocesan bishops who are women (in a month there will be eight). This raises the question of why there are still so few women among diocesan bishops.

    It can be salutary for us to hear what others are saying about the Church of England, so let’s turn to what was said by members of the Lords who spoke in the debate last week. What did they think of our commitment to diversity?

    For example:

    It is such a shame that the Church of England has to revisit this issue, as it was hoped back in 2015 that 10 years would be long enough to ensure that there were enough women diocesan bishops that the Lords spiritual would have some semblance of a gender balance. As somebody who had to organise gender balance among parliamentary candidates in my party, I realise that it is never an exact science. While there is welcome progress, the Lords spiritual still have the lowest proportion of females in the main groupings, at 24%.  (Baroness Brinton)

    In considering this Bill, we should be provided with a better understanding of why the Church has not done more to promote female bishops since 2014. For example, it is notable that, of the five episcopal sees with automatic seats in this House—namely, Canterbury, York, London, Durham and Winchester—only one is currently held by a woman. It would be helpful to know what particular efforts the Church of England is making to ensure gender equality amongst its own leadership and what the barriers that the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of St Albans references actually are. (Lord Devon)

    But what a fascinating and interesting position the country finds itself in that the Parliament of the UK must give legislative time to deal with the established Church’s centuries of discrimination against women taking senior roles and the slow progress it has made in ensuring that women Bishops have equal rights in this House.  (Lord Scriven)

    Important questions. Since 2015, twenty-two men have been nominated as diocesan bishops but only nine women, one of whom has already retired. In contrast, thirty-four women have been appointed as suffragan bishops and thirty-nine men.  The refusal (or inability) of CNCs to nominate diocesan bishops who are women has been noticed for several years now, and recently is becoming almost a scandal. Women are now among the most experienced suffragan bishops; they have proved their capability and ability, including several women being acting diocesan bishop during a vacancy, but there is a blockage when it comes to being nominated by a CNC. And there are strong reasons to think that this is because there are members of the CNCs who refuse to accept or vote for a woman to become the leader of a diocese.

    Those replying to such criticisms on behalf of the Church of England have invariably refused to accept that there is a structural and an ethical problem in the body that appoints bishops, but the recent failure of two CNCs to appoint now seems to be concentrating their minds.

    For example:

    I think it prudent to confess that we in the Church have made slower progress than we had hoped when it came to ensuring that our senior clergy are representative of the diverse congregations we serve. This is true both of women and of ethnic and racial minorities. We do not yet have proportionate representation of female bishops on these Benches, or in our diocesan bishops.

    Unfortunately, that pattern (or equal numbers of men and women appointed as bishops) has not consisted of as many female bishops as we had hoped, and we humbly ask this House to grant us a little longer to ensure that our excellent and qualified women bishops have enough time to overcome this barrier. (Bishop of St Albans)

    Similarly, the Bishop of Derby also admitted that there is still something blocking the appointment of women as diocesan bishops:

    Attention is being given to how the Crown Nominations Commission deliberates and selects candidates to senior posts, given the rate of appointment of women to such roles and our intent on greater diversity overall. My Right Reverend friend spoke of the pipelines we now have of gifted, experienced women in ministry; there are real questions about why they are not being appointed to diocesan roles more quickly. (Bishop of Derby)

    Is it as coincidence that, the day after this debate – a debate which forced the Church of England to admit that women are still being blocked from appointments as bishops – the House of Bishops announced that they propose to end secret ballots at CNC meetings?

    Such changes might limit the likelihood of CNC stalemates if one or two members refuse to vote for any woman, however experienced she may be and however much she may match the diocese’s person profile.  But it does not deal with the deep discrimination that still pervades all the structures and processes of the Church of England. It took a peer who self-described as secular to make a “The emperor has no clothes” speech! Lord Scriven moved rapidly to what he sees as the heart of the issue:

    We need to look a bit further at why the established Church has been so slow to deal with this discrimination, to see whether it is really committed to equality for women within its structures and to ensure that it is really committed to dealing with the misogyny and believes in the true equality of women within its structures, which is the basis the Bill is established on…

    …Although both sex and religion or belief are protected characteristics under the Equality Act 2010, the law is clear that individuals cannot discriminate against their colleagues just because their religion says they should.

    However, that discrimination still exists within the established Church, with a whole system that allows this to happen. The language used to describe and hide it is almost poetic. The CofE calls it “mutual flourishing”. Does that not conjure up a warm and sunlit world, one of equal relationships where all sides are equal and can flourish and reach their full potential based on mutual respect regardless of their sex or who they are?

    In practice, it is far from that. There has been a total abdication of responsibility by the leaders of the established Church since 2014, when women bishops were agreed to by the General Synod. A system has been set up to appease the misogyny—a system that is more about keeping the Church of England together rather than one built on mutual respect and equality for all. It is a system that the present leadership of the Church of England encourages and supports. It is not mutual flourishing but a system of institutionalised misogyny.

    In practice, what “mutual flourishing” means is that individual churches can refuse to accept women as priests or vicars. The CofE also permits churches to reject the authority of a female bishop. So the state Church affirms women as equal while at the same saying that it is alright for some churches not to accept them. In fact, nearly 600 churches reject the authority of women and flock under the frocks of what are referred to as “flying bishops”. Individual churches are permitted to refuse female vicars and are given the right to be overseen by flying bishops who also oppose women’s ordination, instead of their local bishop, male or female, who ordains women.

    How can it be in 2024 that the state Church is still discriminating against women, who represent about two-thirds of its congregation and half the population of this country? Does the Leader of the House feel it is correct that, ultimately, the Church of England should end its exemption under the Equality Act and stop legitimising the theology that some of its churches use to limit women’s ministry and equality when this Parliament is giving time to ensure that women Bishops can sit in this House more equally as a matter of principle? The Church of England loves to give the impression that the battle over women’s ministry is all sorted now but let us be clear: there is a long way to go. (Lord Scriven)

    Not surprisingly, this speech then moved to question the right and value of twenty-six bishops sitting by right in the House of Lords. It’s a different question from the one being debated, but a church which continues to legislate for discrimination will find it much harder to justify any automatic presence in the House of Lords, should it wish to do so. The Church of England likes to present itself as an institution that is able to include diversity – but the lack of women appointed as diocesan bishops is just the tip of a whole iceberg of discriminatory assumptions and practices.

     

    Full debate recorded in Hansard: see this link

     

     

     

  • Is the Failure to Act on a Safeguarding Disclosure a Disciplinary Offence or Not?

    by ‘Graham’

    Nobody can say it is not my fault. It is so absurd,” Archbishop Welby said. “To say, ‘I have heard about a problem but it was someone else’s job to report it’, that is not an acceptable human response, let alone a leadership response.

    “If you know a child is being abused, not to report it is simply wrong, for every human being.” IICSA, 20 March 2018.

    These victims are rightly concerned that no one appears to have faced any sanction yet, when it is clear a number of Christians, clergy and lay, were made aware of the abuse in the 1980s and many learned in subsequent years. I have not yet received a list of names. I am told by Survivors that some facilitated Smyth’s move to Africa. I have made it clear that the National Safeguarding Team will investigate every clergy person or others within their scope of whom they have been informed who knew and failed to disclose the abuse.” Justin Welby, 20 May 2021.

     

    I am a victim of John Smyth QC. It is recorded in Bleeding for Jesus, by Andrew Graystone, that multiple people, “Christians, clergy and lay” knew of the abuse by John Smyth in the 1980s. I know the names of some who provided references for him to move to Africa. I have also read the draft Makin Review (under embargo) and read that 10 Bishops and three Archbishops had received the disclosure of his abuse by August 2013, including of course Justin Welby. And those are just the ones that Keith Makin has been able to identify.

    I have less of a beef with those who knew in the period after February 1982, when the abuse was uncovered, and this is not the focus of this blog. Smyth was stopped pretty quickly, and multiple efforts were made to find him a new home. My complaint about that period is that he could just set up boys’ camps again in Africa, with no supervision, no oversight, no intervention, despite so many being aware of his earlier abuse. Pretty soon a large number were told of further abuse. But, as I said, that period is not my focus.

    My problem concerns 2012 (when I came forward) and 2013, by which time safeguarding rules were codified, a nascent NST existed, and when Smyth should have been stopped and brought to justice. By 2013, the full horror of the abuse was plain to see.

    So, what do I make of the 2021 statement by Justin Welby, and what he meant by that: or at least what he thought he meant by that: “I have made it clear that the National Safeguarding Team will investigate every clergy person or others within their scope of whom they have been informed who knew and failed to disclose the abuse”?  Was it an echo, a reiteration, of his IICSA comments, or was it just because he could hardly say anything different ?

    And my worry is that I suggest he did think everyone who failed in 2012-13 would be “investigated”. The outside world, we victims, General Synod members, would all say “of course they will be investigated, that is obvious”. Yet, I think he so ignorant of practice on the ground by the National Safeguarding Team (NST), or so badly briefed, that what he actually said meant nothing of the sort.

    Keith Makin and NST have had the names for years, since 2017 at least. Keith Makin has under his Terms of Reference, “referred upstairs” where he believes people have failed. Yet, there is silence, inaction. We have no visible evidence of CDMs, we have no visible evidence of the removal of PTO from anyone. There has been a comment “wait for Makin” (and this was the answer from Justin Welby, when challenged directly whether he did fund John Smyth in Africa). But why? The Makin Review is an independent review, and the Church of England could do what they did to the Elliot Review: trash it, and say “he is independent, so we do not have to follow his recommendations”

    But why wait? The NST and the CofE have all the evidence they need to start their own investigation and disciplinary processes. Keith Makin has no power to start a CDM process. He may have uncovered evidence, and under his Terms of Reference, passed it on to the relevant authorities. But the CofE’s investigation and disciplinary processes can only be undertaken … by the CofE.

    So, what did Justin mean? Or think he meant? I think he tried to suggest that proper, detailed investigation of failings would be instigated. Yet there is absolutely no evidence this is the case. What I believe did happen is that NST asked an entirely different question – “is this person a current safeguarding risk?” – and have limited their investigation solely to this question. So, the failings in 1982 and 2012-13 are never investigated at all.

    But the Church must decide whether failings over safeguarding disclosures are actually a disciplinary offence or not. There are multiple examples where it is alleged that senior figures, including Archbishops, did not do what they might when they learned of abuse: from George Carey in the Peter Ball case, to Bishops in the Devamanikkam case. People knew about Mike (“it’s just Mike”) Pilavachi, and Iain Broomfield, and Jonathan Fletcher, and most recently the many clergy involved at Blackburn. And in each case, they did nothing, or at least not enough to stop the alleged abusers, to instigate the necessary investigations and Church disciplinary procedures.

    So, at the moment, as a Smyth victim, I have read of 13 Archbishops and Bishops who failed to act, yet have no evidence of a single sanction against any of them. The Church of England must codify, must publish, must make plain, the consequences of safeguarding failures around disclosure. Or just announce that it does not matter: that failures around disclosure are unfortunate but no more. But surely that is not what is intended?

    If failures around disclosure of abuse have no consequence, then the words of Justin at IICSA and in 2021 may just have been hot air.

  • Rounding up Sheep or Assembling Cats? Governance in the United Reformed Church and the Church of England

    by Revd Chantal Noppen, elected member of General Synod and National Coordinator, Inclusive Church

    This summer, I had the privilege of attending the General Assembly of the United Reformed Church (URC) as an ecumenical representative. Coming directly from the Church of England’s General Synod, I couldn’t help but draw comparisons between the two experiences. This reflection offers a personal perspective on these two governance structures, focusing on their inclusivity, decision-making processes, and overall atmosphere. I have had a URC friend read it and their response has added some more comments, included in italics. I’d also like to make it clear that I love being on General Synod and value it immensely; these observations should not detract from that.

    Preparation and Initial Impressions

    Although I had limited prior knowledge of the URC, my background at the Cambridge Theological Federation introduced me to aspects of their worship and governance. I knew the URC had been more progressive in ordaining women, promoting lay leadership, and affirming LGBTQIA+ individuals, but I was curious about how their General Assembly would compare to the Church of England’s General Synod.

    Integration and Inclusivity

    If I were to sum up the URC’s General Assembly in one word, it would be ‘integration’. The URC makes a concerted effort to include diverse voices in their decision-making processes. This integration is evident in everything the assembly does, from the language used in worship to the application of technology and resources. The assembly had a noticeably more racially diverse, age-broad, and disability-aware approach than what I have observed elsewhere. Although there were no visible BSL interpreters, the effort to ensure inclusivity and accessibility was apparent. I have since learned that BSL signers have been provided in the past, but as feedback confirmed no-one was using them, it wasn’t economically sensible to continue. I am confident however that this expense would be willingly covered if the need arose.

    Unlike the Church of England, where youth engagement often feels more like a goal than a reality, the URC directly integrates young people into their assemblies. In the Church of England, we often talk about wanting to ‘hear the voice of young people’ and offer various schemes and projects focused on engaging them, but I’ve yet to be convinced that we are truly committed to this, as it would require a significant shift in the status quo and power dynamics. At the URC assembly, young people are fully present and just as involved and listened to as anyone else. They speak for themselves and are heard as confident, competent members of the assembly.

    More than any other aspect, this stayed with me as a valuable lesson for us in the Church of England, where changing the status quo often meets resistance. I hope the URC recognises the incredible resource they have in these young people and continues to invest in them generously.

    Decision-Making Processes

    One of the most striking differences between the two bodies is the decision-making process. At the URC Assembly, moderators invite members to use coloured cards to quickly gauge opinions on a topic. If there isn’t clear support, the topic is simply dropped. This method contrasts sharply with the Church of England’s lengthy debates over minor wording changes, which can often feel like filibustering. Additionally, the URC’s use of real-time updates on motion wording helps maintain clarity during discussions and is incredibly helpful from an accessibility point of view.

    It was fascinating to see and hear disagreements and alternative views being shared, considered, and decided upon in real time. The speed with which business and policy are addressed seemed far ahead of the CofE. However, the decisions themselves somehow felt a bit less weighty – perhaps because of the more informal feel.

    It would be naive to assume that the URC membership is homogeneous in its opinions; this is certainly not the case. However, there appears to be a strong sense of loyalty to the whole, especially when contrasted with the divisive rhetoric currently present in the Church of England. I later learned that when the topic of same-sex marriage, particularly regarding ministers, was raised, discussions reached an impasse – having already been rather vicious and damaging. Three opposing and distinct, yet valid, views were upheld. Rather than allowing this stalemate to cause further hurt, the URC imposed a seven-year moratorium on formal debates about the topic. This pause created space for personal conversations built on relationships, and when the topic was eventually revisited, it was able to be passed without adding further major trauma. As I understand it, the discussion in the 1990s was incredibly fraught and messy. It is also worth noting that the eventual conclusion of General Assembly was it should be a locally made decision, not one decided centrally. This is remarkably similar to what the CofE is trying to move towards around the introduction of PLF, that is being pushed back against as ‘too much’ from conservative wings.

    Reflecting on this, I can’t help but think of the Church of England’s experience with the Living in Love and Faith (LLF) resources, which were intended to foster open, respectful dialogue. Despite this opportunity, it feels as though we have fallen short. It’s not a simple matter, but one wonders how different things might be if the whole of the Church of England had actively engaged with these resources, focusing on listening and learning rather than defensiveness and division. Where might we be now if that had been the case?

    Leadership and Hierarchy

    Another notable difference is the URC’s approach to leadership roles. Unlike the Church of England, where positions such as bishops and archdeacons are permanent promotions, the URC appoints leaders for a fixed term before they return to regular ministry. This practice seems to reduce the emphasis on personal ambition and status, fostering a model of ministry more focused on service than career advancement.

    I learned that both the URC and the Methodist Church have broad memberships that include individuals with more evangelical or conservative views as well as those with more liberal perspectives. However, the influence of these groups differs from that in the Church of England. It often seems that substantially more resources and support are directed toward the conservative end of the spectrum in the CofE than in the middle. While I have no hard data to hand, it’s a widely acknowledged observation within the church community.

    Key Differences and Similarities

    Both the URC and the Church of England face similar challenges, such as resource allocation and ministerial support. However, the URC’s more collaborative and less hierarchical structure allows for a more unified approach to these issues. However, there was the same complaint about regional variances and unilateral diocesan policies leading to inconsistencies and a lack of equity.

    There is no electronic voting system at Assembly, so there is no way to track who has voted which way on specific items. I can see pros and cons to this, but it matches the overall emphasis on unity and shared investment in the URC. The Church of England is far more individually led and used to spotlighting specific voices and leaders. This is even demonstrated by the close-up camera shots of speakers with their names and numbers on the screen, as opposed to the topic being discussed. Apparently when electronic voting was tried it was a disaster. All critical votes that may be contentious are conducted by secret ballot, there were just none on this year’s agenda.

    The URC is substantially smaller and younger than the Church of England, which is reflected in a number of ways. I found the general atmosphere of pragmatic evolution to be quite inspirational, demonstrated in various initiatives, including the development of the iChurch resource to assist local churches with website development and database management—tasks that many churches struggle to manage internally.

    Personal Reflections

    My experience at the URC General Assembly was eye-opening. While I appreciate the Church of England’s structured approach and accountability mechanisms, I believe we could benefit from adopting some of the URC’s practices, especially those that foster unity and reduce unnecessary debate. However, the practice of offering the opportunity to ask clarifying questions of a motion and its report before it is debated was a simple but incredibly useful nuance. As our understanding and appreciation of neuro-divergent thinking grow, this approach would provide some much-needed clarity to discussions that I think all would benefit from.

    I found myself repeatedly impressed by the diversity of voices heard at General Assembly and the genuine lack of one or two people speaking at every possible opportunity. Speakers are not called by the chair; they simply head toward the mic when they wish to contribute. When a chair does offer gentle intervention, it seemed to be met with respect and acceptance, which is not always true of General Synod.

    However, during one discussion, an older gentleman made a rude, dismissive, and judgmental comment about the ordering of households and relationship statuses. I was saddened to hear it and surprised that it wasn’t challenged on the floor or from the podium. While I’ve heard worse or similar at Synod, I had come to expect better from my reformed peers, so that was rather disappointing. I know that I was not alone in this surprise and shock, and have been encouraged to hear specific pastoral support and follow-up was provided.

    Throughout General Assembly, times of worship and Bible study were woven more integrally than the bookend approach favoured at Synod. However, I think some of this is due to logistical differences and different expectations of worship. The theme of innovation that ran through the worship was especially interesting to consider from the perspective of a creatively minded Anglican who often operates ‘out of the box’, intentionally or otherwise. This often feels like an uncomfortable place to be and is a stark contrast to the reformed mindset that has evolution in its DNA and change written into its foundation.

    The final Bible study, led by Lisa Adejai from Christian Aid, captured much of what I had been reflecting on while also shifting my focus to the “now, next, and so then.” Her core message was an invitation to reimagine, reorder, and renew—a timely encouragement for someone like me, emerging from a challenging period of ministry.

    Lisa spoke passionately about the reordering of power that Jesus calls us to, urging us to broaden our horizons and reach out to the marginalized, challenging assumptions, and refusing to accept the status quo. She referenced a Ghanaian phrase meaning “go back and get it,” highlighting the importance of understanding our past to move forward effectively. As I consider the church’s ongoing discussions around racism, misogyny, homophobia, gender discrimination, and more, I’m struck by our struggle to truly acknowledge our mistakes and commit to doing better. Jesus’ commandment to love God, our neighbour, and ourselves remains central—if we truly lived by this love, our decisions and actions would bear more meaningful fruit.

    Lisa concluded by asking, “What is God calling you to reorder? What power are you being called to give away, share, or amplify in others? Where are you being called to reimagine?” These are questions worth sitting with in every church meeting, as we remain open to God’s guidance and transformation.

    Conclusion

    In case this all feels a bit ‘rose-tinted’, during more direct conversations, I heard some firsthand experiences of how the URC had fallen far short of their intentions and stated priorities around gender justice and pay/benefits provision. While both institutions can seek to silence dissenting voices, which often happen to be those of women, addressing this will perhaps happen more quickly in the smaller organisation. Attending Assembly also helped bring into focus the additional privilege and pressure we have as the state church. Do we consider this as well as we could, or do we prefer to use it as a prop and shield rather than an opportunity to catalyse society?

    I came away from General Assembly simultaneously in awe of certain aspects, like the integration of young people, the principle of taking a consensus and simply not discussing items that didn’t gather enough support, but also feeling a deep sense of relief that the system I “belong” to is a bit more clearly structured. I’m grateful for the transparency of our voting system and the possibility for there to be accountability and questions put to members over their voting decisions. I am heartened that, despite different approaches, both systems allow for a range of views to be presented but that no single person, or incredibly loud minority, can dictate, block or derail votes.

    I greatly valued the opportunity to gain insight into how another denomination is navigating contemporary issues. I think there is much we could learn from each other and I look forward to working more closely with reformed colleagues in the future.

  • Safeguarding: Who is in Charge?

    by ‘Graham’

    In the Wilkinson Review of the Independent Safeguarding Board, 30 November 2023, I was quoted as follows:

    “Everything in the Church of England falls between two stools. You’ve got the NSP, the NSSG, the SRG, the NST, the Archbishops’ Council, the House of Bishops, the Lead Bishop, Lambeth and individual dioceses and it allows everyone to say, ‘Well, it’s actually not my job,’ and decision after decision in the Church of England is made without anyone in control, without anyone saying, ‘Come on, enough’s enough.’” (Para 317).

    I was reminded of these words when reading about the shenanigans in Blackburn. There were multiple interested parties, multiple attempted interventions, but at the end of the day a process was undertaken that allowed a person to sue, and receive a payment. Nothing worked. There was no process, no policy, no disciplinary procedure, no forum, that allowed a comprehensive investigation and justice (whichever way it went) to be seen to be done.

    And I reflect on what all the bodies that I listed in the Wilkinson Review actually do. Who reports to whom? And who can make decisions? Where is the “Head of Safeguarding” (no such role exists) to ensure that fair process, natural justice and competence are delivered?

    Because everything falls between two stools; in fact, many more. And frequently it is not the Church of England who actually do anything. The Jonathan Fletcher Review: an outside agency, 31:8, appointed not by the CofE but by Emmanuel, Wimbledon. The Pilavachi case: an outside agent, Fiona Scolding KC, has been appointed by Soul Survivor. The Titus Trust Reviews: an outside agency, 31:8 again, appointed by Titus. The Scripture Union Review: an outside agent, Gill Camina, appointed by, guess who, Scripture Union. The investigation into Iain Broomfield, who led the Iwerne camps from 1987-2000, well, no one knows what happened there, and a group of alleged victims put out a stinging rebuke. Where was the Church of England in all of these?

    We know the CDM is largely discredited, but it is worth noting that in the cases of Jonathan Fletcher, Iain Broomfield, the fellow in Blackburn and Mike Pilavachi it is extremely unclear what process was undertaken under CDM, and justice was “not seen to be done”, certainly in the eyes of victims. The process that was in place, was not fit for purpose. “Learning Lessons Reviews” (a misnomer if there ever was one) have been replaced by “Safeguarding Practice Reviews”: toothless, neutered, never debated by General Synod. I mention them as it is telling that not a single Safeguarding Practice Review has been commissioned in the 13 months since they were approved in July 2023. Despite the pleading of the ISB11, and the continuous flood of abuse revelations, the CofE does not have a single current Review (Makin was under the old regime).

    Let us look at the ISB. Who was responsible for the flawed (it is claimed) Terms of Reference? Who was responsible for the paucity of resources? Who was responsible for the sudden closure? I will leave readers to look at the Wilkinson Report for some of the answers to those, but the cynical outside observer sees parties ducking and diving, and denying responsibility.

    The Makin Review is my biggest bugbear, as a victim of John Smyth, and as the victim who came forward almost 13 years ago. We still have no answers, no justice, no closure and I have written many times about that. But, I ask again and again, who is responsible? NST say it is an Archbishops’ Council commissioned review, and independent, so they cannot intervene. The AC say that oversight was delegated to NST. Does the NSP have a view? No idea. Does the NSSG have a view; no idea. Have the Lead Bishops ever taken an interest? Well, Joanne Grenfell has never replied to or even acknowledged a single email I have sent her. General Synod? Well, lots of questions, faux outrage, but nothing is done. Do the paymasters care? I shudder to think of the cost of lawyers to date, yet alone the payments to Keith Makin: and am outraged, incandescent, in the contrast with support for victims when the Redress Scheme is further delayed. So, the Makin Review can drift on at enormous expense, 1555 days late (as I write) and no one “owns it”, no one has held his feet to the fire, no one has taken responsibility.

    And where do victims go ? I am also quoted in the Wilkinson Review as follows:

    “….that there had been a number of circumstances in the last seven years where they had needed somewhere to go and had needed an independent body that provided oversight, authority and power within the Church of England…..” (para 260.2).

    As no one is “responsible” for the Makin Review, I have nowhere to go. No one to complain to. No one who will intervene. The ISB might have provided this for us, though I suspect had they intervened they would have been accused of exceeding their brief. But even the ISB lifeline was taken from us, and of course from Mr X and the ISB 11.

    What do I ask for? That the multiple layers of safeguarding bureaucracy are consolidated. The relationship between the NST, NSSG and NSP must be clarified. The responsibility for safeguarding which falls between General Synod, Archbishops’ Council, House of Bishops, all those myriad bodies, must be clarified. I would hope and pray that this can be an eventual outcome of the deliberations by Professor Alexis Jay. Though I add, the Response Group appears to be a toothless “talking shop”. The Chair, Lesley-Anne Ryder, has refused to engage with victims. Their consultation received feedback from just 11 victims: surely that reflects the lack of confidence and trust in the process. The ISB took almost two years to gain the trust of damaged, nervous, traumatised victims. Does the Response Group even want to gain our trust?

    The final thing I ask for is a prophetic voice. Someone to stand up and say “Enough is Enough”. It is not coming from the hand wringing Archbishops. It is not coming from the invisible Lead Bishops. It is not coming from the incompetent NST. I could not even name the Chair of the NSP and NSSG, neither body having crossed my path, over seven years after the Channel 4 exposé. Where is the leadership, the vision, the ambition? Where is the person who “gets it” and can blend a ruthless drive for change, and a compassion that will gain the trust of victims? A “Head of Safeguarding” might not be appropriate, but where in these plethora of organisation would they even sit?

    Until then, everything will fall between two stools. We have no Makin Review. There is paralysis over Christ Church, Oxford. There is chaos at Blackburn. The ISB has gone. The Lead Bishops are silent (as is Lambeth and “victims come first” Welby: yeah, yeah, yeah). General Synod is impotent. NST are dysfunctional.

    And victims are left by the side of the road.

  • Clergy Summer Quiz: the Answers!

    by Anon.

    Thanks to all who sent in answers to this year’s brainteasers. Our quiz received many interesting responses. But now to those all-important answers! If you haven’t yet had time to do the quiz, just go back to it now and see how you do.

    1.  What is the approximate population of your diocese? How many parishes does your diocese have? How many Churches? What percentage identify as Christian? What percentage of Christians are committed in terms of a fraction (i.e., a bit; quite a bit; sometimes; depends on what else is happening this weekend; a lot; “I’m retired”; etc)?

    ANSWER: These figures are all available in the Church of England Yearbook. We don’t give any points for copy-and-paste responses.

    To the nearest 100,000. how many tea lights were used in your diocese last year?

    ANSWER: Only Sodor and Man score under 1,500,000. Over 50% of dioceses score more than 3,000,000. An important indication of the likely number can be found in the most recent Annual Report of the Church Commissioners in their section on new derivatives ventures. Please note that candles do not count as fossil fuels under the policy adopted by General Synod, as nobody ever got warmed up by tealights.

    2.  How many stipendiary clergy are working in the diocese?

    ANSWER: (c) that’s a problem for the Archdeacon (obviously)

    3.  The solemn declaration made before your ordination or first licensing in the diocese that “In public prayer and administration of the sacraments I will use only the form prescribed in the Book of Common Prayer or a form authorised by lawful authority and none other” means

    ANSWER: it should be (e), ‘What it says’, but we affirm the Anglican Via Media principle in ultimately determining such matters, and recognise that clergy must find a way between the letter of the law and pastoral pragmatism.

    4. True or false, with extra points for naming these authorities: 

    (a) ‘The Church of England is a device for allowing agnostics to remain in the church’   

    ANSWER: True; the quote is from Yes, Prime Minister, with thanks to Sir Humphrey.

    (b) ‘One good thing about being an Anglican is that it doesn’t interfere with your politics or religion’  

    ANSWER: True; Richard Holloway.

    5.  “I can hold my hand on my heart and honestly say that I have obtained a faculty when making changes in a church or in the vicinity of a church”:

    ANSWER: We deducted a point for anyone ticking option (d), ‘Obtained a what?’, but affirm the Via Media principle for answers (a) to (c).

    6.  An Anglican clergyperson requesting permission from the bishop to conduct a burial service for a Baptist should expect the following reply from the Archdeacon:

    ANSWER: (a) “I am currently out of the office…if your matter is urgent please…” (obviously)

    7.  When I see the number 1662, I know that this refers to…

    ANSWER: We are happy to confirm that all the options (a) to (o) are correct. However, we have been asked to make some important corrections and clarifications:

    (e) in inches, normal social distancing at a Cof E BCP 8 a.m.: while this is correct, as readers have pointed out, this is the minimum distance in such services. All eye contact should be avoided, and handshakes are prohibited before, during, or after the service. These were Cranmer’s original rubrics.

    (f) the predicted number of stipendiary clergy left remaining within the CofE by 2034, that being the 500th anniversary of the creation of the national church by Henry VIII (who started it all off with a change to the doctrine of marriage): correct, but as the doctrine of marriage was changed in 1534 by Henry VIII, this has some bearing on how LLF is debated by those claiming the CofE has only ever upheld the ‘traditional’ doctrines of marriage (whatever they are). Henry VIII was married six times. Two marriages were terminated by divorce, one wife died naturally, and one wife survived him. The remaining two were beheaded. The LLF Facilitation Group has yet to consider execution as a means of preserving the traditional teaching on marriage and, though drastic, it plainly avoids divorce so could be commended. However, a working party is looking into this. Henry was the Supreme Head of the CofE, as are his descendants. We did not consider James I’s intimate relationships with other men (e.g., Somerset, Villiers, Lennox and Buckingham, etc) as important, as the king still had eight children by his wife, Anne of Denmark. Clergy completing this quiz should not infer that just because James I shared a bed with many of his male favourites and kissed and caressed them in public, he was in any way bisexual or homosexual.

    The important thing to remember is that as Supreme Head of the CofE James I didn’t divorce his wife, Anne. So after Henry VIII had changed the doctrine of marriage there were no further changes – until Charles II, Mary II, William III, Queen Anne and probably others. But as they (mainly) produced legitimate heirs, LLF does not propose to take a view on what the Supreme Governor and Head of the CofE have got up to after office hours in their spare time.

    After all, Iwerne Camps were full of Real Men, some of whom were married, and some “single for the Lord” (and for the boys), so we don’t need to debate the finer points of marital fidelity in the CofE if the doctrine of marriage is still being upheld. It has always been clear in the CofE. Are we all clear?

    (i) the number of people likely to be employed at your Diocesan HQ, if current trends continue. (Please don’t worry, as this expense is fully covered. That is what the Diocesan Parish Quota Share is for): correct, though I have been asked to point out that as most Bishops consider the ‘fundamental unit’ of the CofE to be the diocese, it really doesn’t matter if there are no employees further afield outside Diocesan HQ. The House of Bishops have responded: “That’s your problem, not one that central staffing can resolve (although we could always employ another Diocesan Strategy Enabler or Resource Advisor for Growth to look into your issues and concerns, and report back in 2032?). The new mission statement for all dioceses is ‘keep growing staff numbers at central HQ, and let the peasants eat their brioche’. We are all striving for that. If you are not, chances are you will not be replaced when you leave/retire/are unlucky enough not to have your PTO renewed, etc….”.

    (k) the most difficult posture in the Anglican Kama Sutra, reserved only for male clergy who cannot in conscience accept women priests or bishops. Please note, this requires four participants, with each person required to assume the pose of the relevant number. Due to the potential hazards of this position, it should only be attempted after a risk assessment has been undertaken, and a PEV must be present at all times during the actual act: apologies to those who found this question difficult. We should have added that during this positional enactment, no mobile phones or recording devices are permitted. However, the PEV is equipped with a stopwatch, so each participant has the same amount of time in each position. We should also have reminded readers of the ‘safe word’ or phrase in the event of something going wrong, or someone feeling uncomfortable. For those ordained before 2012, the safe phrase is “motion to move to next business”. Those ordained more recently must audibly exclaim “Mutual Flourishing!”. Both phrases bring any action to an immediate halt, and result in complete disengagement.

    (m) the number of complaints made against the Secretary General of the Archbishops’ Council and NST last year. Correct, but I am also asked to point out that due to the high volume of complaints, and the necessity of all these being handled internally by hand-picked members of NCI’s or the Archbishops’ Council, the whole business of a complaints policy regarding senior personnel has been rendered unworkable. The Secretary General has asked me to say that because no complaints are ever upheld, and due to the time-consuming fuss of going through the motions of a policy and process, there will now be a moratorium on all future complaints. From hereon, all complaints will be treated as deliberate nuisance, and all complainants will be treated as vexatious litigants, liable for counter-litigation and costs if there are any complaints about the ineffectiveness of complaints. So, if you don’t want to be hit with a huge legal bill, don’t ever complain. Simple.

    (n) the number of Mission Enablers employed in the CofE: correct, though probably underestimated.

    (o) the coded number of the Beast in Revelation, according to my colleagues at our local HTB Plant. Apparently if you take the two 6s away, then join the remaining numbers of 1 and 2 together to make a 12, then divide the 12 by the numbers remaining (which is 2), that equals 6. So, the 1662 BCP is actually a code for 666 as set out in Revelation 13. A series of talks is now available on the God Channel and YouTube. And there are books. Correct: and you have been warned.