ViaMedia

Year: 2025

  • Some Things You Never Forget

    by Canon Dr Phil Groves, who was a CMS Mission partner and lecturer in theology at St Philip’s Kongwa in Tanzania. He served at the Anglican Communion Office for 10 years. He has attended two Lambeth Conferences, three Primates’ Meetings and four ACCs. He has a PhD on Partnership in the Anglican Communion. He is dyslexic and a member of the Church of England’s Neurodiversity Working Group.

    For me, one of those moments you never forget was the Dar es Salaam Primates’ Meeting in 2007. It was my first Primates’ Meeting, and I was there to present my report on the “Listening Process on human sexuality.”

    In those days, national newspapers still sent correspondents to cover these meetings, and more than one journalist told me they expected something I said would be the spark that ignited an explosion. No pressure, then!

    When it was time for me to report, the Secretary General sat next to me. I think he intended to offer support, but I could feel him trembling. I could smell his anxiety. I had to tune him out and focus on Archbishop Rowan, who at least looked calm—though I bet he wasn’t.

    Fortunately, I was on home ground. I had lived in Tanzania for six years and had loved every minute of the event so far. The host, Archbishop Donald Mtetemela, was someone I had known for years, and he asked me to help welcome the primates, as he was recovering from malaria. This gave me the chance to befriend almost all of them—most of whom I already knew. I could translate for them, delighting in the chance to speak Kiswahili again.

    Two Archbishops, however, remained unreachable. The Archbishops of Uganda and Nigeria had withdrawn from all social events, worship, and meals. They were essentially living in another part of the hotel, surrounded by a group of mostly white advisors. Archbishop Orombi of Uganda was an old friend—I had once served on his evangelism team for a year—and he gave me a cheery smile. Archbishop Akinola, meanwhile, was reportedly in bed with a headache, which, I admit, came as something of a relief.

    When I was called to speak, I took a breath and charted the progress—such as it was—of the Listening Process across the Communion. I made it clear that the responsibility for responding to Lambeth I.10 was not mine, but theirs. I was simply there to monitor and assist.

    We then discussed a proposed book for the upcoming Lambeth Conference. To everyone’s surprise, the conversation was not only polite, but positive. Both Archbishop Mounir and Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori requested a chapter on the “science” of human attraction. Interestingly, they did so for completely opposite reasons—each believing the evidence would support their view. I hated that chapter, and the “science” proved nothing. But at least they agreed on something.

    Things seemed to be going well—until the Archbishop of Congo, Fidèle Dirokpa, asked to speak. He said he didn’t understand the problem. To him, gays were like any other sinners—no different from thieves or murderers—and we should reach out to them the same way.

    Unless you’re a prison chaplain, you may never have met a murderer. But if you’re from eastern DRC, you might have met a few. Dirokpa was being generous: even murderers can repent and be part of the Church—so why not gays? It seemed so obvious to him, he couldn’t understand why we weren’t all in agreement. Let them repent and fully include them. The response wasn’t anger, but silence.

    Later, Katharine Jefferts Schori would describe this moment as her “low point” of the entire Meeting—despite enduring a session where she had to be defended by other primates from quite personal attacks.

    Dirokpa was puzzled. He was surprised his words found no support. Even his close friend, the Archbishop of Burundi—who had translated for him, since he didn’t speak English—offered no backing.

    After the meeting, Dirokpa—knowing I spoke Kiswahili—pulled me aside. We huddled in a hotel lounge. He wanted to know why his words had fallen flat. Like many African church leaders, he had never knowingly met a gay person. Of course, he had met many gay people, but dominant homophobia in post-colonial African culture ensures that LGBTQI+ individuals often hide—even from themselves.

    This was my job: to enable people in the Church to listen to LGBTQI+ individuals. They didn’t need to agree or disagree—just hear. I wasn’t speaking for anyone, just helping mostly straight Christian leaders open their ears.

    A couple of hours later, he was ready to “listen to the experience of homosexual persons,” and I believe he did take future opportunities to listen and learn. I don’t think he ever accepted same-sex marriage or blessings as right for the Church, but he didn’t campaign for the removal of TEC from the Communion, nor—so far as I know—did he support the criminalisation of gay people. He embraced tolerance, and tolerance is the first step. Without it, we cannot move toward acceptance or celebration.

    I learned that we must keep offering opportunities to listen, rather than take offence and walk away.

    This was echoed by another conversation on the other side of the lounge that same evening. Bishop Jefferts Schori was in deep conversation with the Bishop of Central Tanganyika, one of the largest evangelical dioceses in East Africa—Bishop Mdimi Mohogolo.

    I first met Mohogolo in 1992 and used to play squash with his son (who always beat me). In 1997, he was part of the planning group for the Lambeth Conference and was one of those confronted by ‘Outrage!’ activists in the gardens of Lambeth Palace. After returning to Tanzania, he visited our house and talked about the encounter.

    His words to me have stayed with me:

    “I would much rather have our poverty than your gays.”

    These words were chilling. The poverty in Central Tanzania was and remains devastating. It kills. It is a curse. If you’ve never lived amidst poverty like that, you can’t imagine it. Yet the wonderful gay friends I had from school and university were, to him, a deeper curse.

    And yet—ten years later—this same man was in deep conversation with the Presiding Bishop of TEC, offering support. He advocated for ongoing relationships with TEC within the Tanzanian House of Bishops. Though once an ally of the conservative bloc, particularly through ties with the Diocese of Sydney, he had been on a journey. He had met gay and lesbian Christians, and he had learned tolerance. Again, I never heard him support the blessing of same-sex unions, but he led his diocese into meaningful relationships with TEC—partnerships that bore fruit on both sides. He was instrumental in the majority of Tanzanian bishops rejecting GAFCON.

    To equate being gay with being a murderer—or to see it as a deeper curse than life-threatening poverty—is to dehumanise and diminish an entire group of people. It contradicts the agreed statement of the Primates at Dromantine:

    “The victimisation or diminishment of human beings whose affections happen to be ordered towards people of the same sex is anathema to us.”

    When you dehumanise, you open the door to criminalisation.

    The way forward is to listen to LGBTQI+ people as friends. Then “homosexuality” ceases to be an “issue”—first order or otherwise.

    If you dehumanise a whole group, you can justify their criminalisation. “Homosexuality” becomes a curse to be eliminated. That is what has happened in Nigeria. Western advocates once told the press that the Archbishop there quietly opposed the anti-gay law. But in Dar that week, I had a chance to ask him directly.

    We were alone in his official room. I asked about the law. He was clear: he had instigated it and supported it fully. He wanted gays in prison. He supported restricting freedom of speech and the right to assembly so that LGBTQI+ people and their allies could never organise. I was shocked—but not surprised.

    If you see LGBTQI+ people as akin to murderers or more cursed than those starving and homeless, you have dehumanised them. And, once dehumanised, they can be silenced and imprisoned.

    The same happened in Uganda. Members of the Anglican Church were instrumental in pushing through shocking legislation. The effect of that legislation went beyond simple law with the persecution of gay people and the murder of David Kato, which was unequivocally condemned by a later Primates’ Meeting.

    And so to the present debates in the Church of England. A CEEC briefing paper suggests that those opposed to LLF can counter the argument that it is “not credal” by saying:

    “There are plenty of things not mentioned in the Creeds but upon which we would not be willing to accept any level of disagreement (e.g. murder). In short, the argument ‘it is not credal’ does not mean that we can simply have different views.”

    Apart from the obvious response that while murder is not in the Creeds it is one of the Ten Commandments, the real issue is that this kind of reasoning treats LGBTQI+ identity as an issue.

    I welcome the presence of those who disagree with me on the legitimacy of same-gender unions. But we must remember that we are talking about people—human beings.

    To be clear, the CEEC and Anglican Alliance have issued sincere statements condemning anti-gay laws in Nigeria and Uganda. But I see little action to match the words—and I wonder why.

    These laws were promoted by their Anglican allies. They have withdrawn from worship with those of us who promote equal marriage, yet I don’t see them threatening to withdraw from communion with those who promote violence toward gay people. They rejoice in partnerships with churches that have enacted hate-driven laws, while lamenting that Nigerians and Ugandans aren’t represented on the CNC for Canterbury. I know they oppose these laws—but I suspect they do not see them as a first order issue, rather a “cultural difference.”

    The true divide in the Anglican Communion is between those who see “homosexuality” as an issue, and those who engage with human beings of all sexualities—straight and gay—seeking to live and love in the way of Christ.

    For some, following in the steps of Archbishop Dirokpa and Bishop Mohogolo, this may mean continuing to oppose the blessing of same-sex unions—yet listening, respecting, and refusing to break Communion with those they disagree with.

    For others, like me, we believe that God calls both straight and gay people into permanent, faithful, stable, and joyful relationships. We are not issues—we are beloved people of God.

    “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

     

  • The Body the Church Forgot: Reimagining Sacred Space from the Margins

    by Revd Canon Timothy Goode, Canon for Congregational Discipleship and Nurture at York Minster and member of the National Disability Task Group

    It is no small thing to speak in Canterbury Cathedral.

    To stand in such a space, as I did recently, where liturgy has echoed for centuries, where saints have walked and kings have knelt, where martyrdom was once not metaphor but blood on stone – it humbles you. The architecture seems to breathe with history.

    But I did not come to offer a history lesson or critique the Gothic arches. I came with something far more personal. I came as a disabled priest to speak to cathedral architects and to all those who advise cathedral chapters on matters related to the care, conservation, and development of our cathedrals. And I came to ask: Whose body is the Church really built for?

    Because for more than thirty years, I have been making my way through churches that were never designed with someone like me in mind. I have been pointed to side doors. I have been told the sanctuary was not accessible. I have preached from the nave floor while pulpits loomed like fortresses behind me. And I have listened to sermon after sermon about “healing”, often from people who have never actually asked what it is like to live in a body that will not, and should not, be cured.

    These are not just awkward moments or minor design flaws. They are symptoms of something much deeper. What we are dealing with is a theological vision of the human body that has been built into the DNA of the Church, a vision that equates holiness with symmetry, sanctity with strength, and wholeness with conformity to an able-bodied norm

    And this vision did not come from Christ. It came from Rome.

    To really understand this, we have to travel back to the fourth century. Before Constantine, the Christian movement was marginal, persecuted, made up of people who lived in their bodies very differently. The paralysed, the blind, the bleeding woman in the crowd – these were not just characters in miracle stories. They were the Church. They were apostles, disciples, leaders.

    Paul’s famous words in 1 Corinthians 12 were not poetic flourish: “The parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable.” That was not metaphor. It was the living theology of the early Church; a Body made up of many, including those society wanted to cast aside.

    But once Christianity gained imperial approval through Constantine’s Edict of Milan in 313 CE, something fundamental changed. With power came prestige. With prestige came compromise.

    The Church began absorbing Greco-Roman ideals about what bodies should be. Classical culture idolised symmetry, athleticism, control. The perfect body was strong, upright, unmoved by pain. And this ideal soon seeped into Christian theology.

    By the time we got to Augustine, even resurrection got redefined in these terms. In The City of God, he imagined glorified bodies as unmarred, restored to their ideal state: male, able-bodied, thirty years old. And that image was projected onto Christ. No blindness, no paralysis, no visible deviation. Jesus Christ, the template of the idealised norm.

    It was a compelling vision, if you fitted the anthropomorphic mould. But what happened when you did not?

    This theology did not stay in books. It seeped into the very stones of our churches. Cathedral architecture is not neutral. It never has been. It preaches. It catechises. It teaches us, without saying a word, what kind of bodies are expected, and what kind are not.

    Take the basilica model adopted from Roman civic halls: the nave, transept, chancel; spaces laid out not for inclusion, but for hierarchy. The sanctuary is elevated. The priest processes up stairs. The pulpit rises above the people. It is majestic, yes, but it is also profoundly exclusionary.

    Because every architectural decision makes a theological one. Stairs do not just raise the altar, they declare who is allowed to approach. Pews do not just organise a congregation, they assume bodies that sit still, rise easily, kneel without pain. Even the very materials of worship – hard stone, cold marble, polished brass – make a statement about which bodies are comfortable here, and which are not.

    So when I say these spaces were not built with me in mind, I do not just mean there is no ramp. I mean the entire architectural logic assumes I do not belong at the centre.

    Even churches that claim to be “inclusive” often betray this same DNA. The ramp is added later. The accessible toilet is behind a locked door or is used also as a storage space. The hearing loop was installed, yes, but no one knows how to turn it on. And the excuses? “It would ruin the symmetry.” “It would not match the historic stone.” “It might interrupt the line of sight.” What we are really saying is this: the building’s aesthetic matters more than the bodies inside it. And that is not just poor design. That is architectural idolatry. It is a heresy. It places form above flesh, heritage above hospitality, symmetry above sacrament.

    What makes this even more painful is the irony at the heart of our faith.

    Christianity’s most powerful metaphor is the Body of Christ, and that body was not perfect by classical standards. It was broken. Wounded. Pierced. And when Christ rose from the dead, he did not shed his scars. He showed them.

    That is the body our churches should have been built to reflect. But instead they reflect the sculpted ideal of Greco-Roman virtue, the inaccessible grandeur of empire. We have built not sanctuaries, but tombs. Our anthropology is not focused on the risen body of Christ. It remains focused on the able body of Rome.

    And yet the risen Jesus appeared in locked rooms, cooked breakfast with wounded hands, and invited Thomas to touch his open and pierced side. The glorified body of Christ was not healed from trauma, it was transformed through it. For the Word became flesh – not the Word became idealised marble; not the Word became stones and mortar – but the Word became flesh: human flesh, wounded flesh, disabled flesh, risen and ascended flesh. And the Word dwelt among us.

    So where do we go from here?

    We return to the risen Christ, not the polished Christ of stained glass and statuary, arms spread in symmetrical benediction, but the Christ who says: “Touch my wounds. They are still here. They are still holy.”

    And we build and adapt our churches accordingly.

    • A cathedral or church reordered from the eye level of a wheelchair user
    • A pulpit that can be used by a priest who signs the Gospel
    • A sanctuary without stairs, not because it is fashionable, but because it is just
    • Artwork that honours disabled saints, not after healing, but in the truth of their embodied reality
    • A memory wall where chronic illness, neurodivergence, and pain are honoured as sacred testimony

    This is not utopian. It is already happening, in small communities, in artistic collectives, in chapels where theology is being shaped from wheelchairs and hospital beds. The Spirit is moving. The question is whether the Church is willing to follow.

    I did not bring a building plan to Canterbury Cathedral. I brought a body – my own body – and the bodies of so many others who have been overlooked by the architecture and theology of a Church that said it was for all.

    And most of all, I brought the Body of Christ, a body still wounded, still risen, still with us.

    This is the Body I believe in. This is the Body I serve. This is the Body we can build.

    Let it be risen. Let it be wounded. Let it be real.

     

  • The Mid-Atlantic Anglican: Leaks from the CNC WhatsApp Group

    by Anon.

    In what was an unforeseen and dreadful oversight, with an investigation and lessons learned review now pending, the Editor of The Mid-Atlantic Anglican was accidentally included on the new confidential WhatsApp Group for the CNC to nominate the next Archbishop of Canterbury. The exchanges quickly found their way to the editor of Via Media, who is now able to share with readers a partial transcript of those on the call. The CNC is chaired by Jonathan Evans (Lord Evans of Weardale) who takes the WhatsApp name Evans Above.

    Evans Above – Right, can I just check we have all signed the confidentiality and conflict of interest agreement?

    Not-Yet-Ennobled [NYE, William] – I will circulate these. Orally.

    Local Canterbury CNC Rep 1 – We have written a prayer for our diocese at this crucial time in the life of our diocese…

    Elected General Synod Member One – Oh God…

    Local Canterbury CNC Rep 1 – No, no! It begins very differently. We have gone for something much more inclusive. Here you go…

    “Dear Lord, Please send us someone much like your own Dear Son. Except we also need somebody who would have got along very well with Herodians, Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes, Zealots, Romans, Gentiles, Peasants, Temple Traders, Anti-Fishing lobbyists, Just-Stop-Nard/Oil protesters, and people outside Palestine-Galilee who were foreign. Because we can’t afford to alienate anyone. Please also make sure that your nominee, your servant, is nice to gay people and equally nice to people who are anti-gay. Likewise on gender, and in general, just a nice chap [probably? delete?] without opinions and preferences except on things that we all agree on, like Methodism. But please, God, don’t send us someone who has spoken up on Brexit, because we have a lot of Reform voters in Margate, and we don’t want to alienate them. Who lives and reigns with you in unity with the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, One God. Now and Forever, Amen”.

    Elected General Synod Member Two – Lord have mercy…

    JD Vance – I am with POTUS. We are sick and tired of the Episcopal Church bailing out the CofE and providing all the funding for your pathetic little Lambeth Conferences, NATO (Northern Anglican Theology Outfit) and propping up bankrupt Anglican Provinces outside the USA like Canada. Losers! Time to stand on your own two feet. You haven’t got any cards. You are in a very bad position.

    Ebordom [Cottrell] – Can we get on with business? I am currently touring the country teaching about the Lord’s Prayer.  The reception has been amazing.  Hardly any protests, boycotts, petitions, awkward questions from the media… Seriously, I had forgotten what it was like to be a bishop.

    JD Vance – Yeah, but I heard Newcastle gave you a miss! Hah! You gotta love Cancel Culture.  I also heard your talk about “forgive us our debts”. You can forget that! You owe us, Big Time. You don’t have any cards. You are not in a good position. We are going to impose 20% tariffs on your churches. Stop ripping us off and stealing our churchgoers.

    Evans Above – Veep, how are you even on this call?

    JD Vance – I have clearance and we’re paying for the call, and META runs the whole WhatsApp platform. Check in with Zuckerberg.

    Evans Above – …Er….

    Local Canterbury CNC Rep 2 – Perhaps we could think about possible names?

    JD Vance – No names!! We stick with orange as the authorised colour. POTUS likes it. That is what Americans want. Suck it up, losers!! If you don’t like it, you can always deselect York and do your own vanilla thing there.

    Not-Yet-Ennobled [NYE, William] – Er, but there is no vacancy for York. At least not today. We have lots of other vacancies to fill. Orange is not on our list of criteria. Though I agree vanilla is.

    Local Canterbury CNC Rep 2– Can we please get on and nominate someone?

    Evans Above – William?

    Not-Yet-Ennobled [NYE, William] – No. All names are subject to clearance and vetting by senior Lambeth Palace staff and others not on this call. Anyway, I have a list of people who have been ruled out already. You cannot include them.

    Norfolk Nodder [Graham Usher] – I haven’t seen that list…

    Not-Yet-Ennobled [NYE, William] – It doesn’t concern you. The list is confidential to the people who drew it up. You are not on the list to see the list.

    Elected General Synod Member One – We all agree that the candidate must be LLF compliant, which means that they are signing up for a Decade of Delaying. I have written a prayer for this a bit like the one we just heard from the Local Canterbury CNC:

    “Dear God, Please help us just to keep going with these important discussions, but please also make sure that we never actually get anywhere. Deliver us from the time of trial, decision, or any point of closure. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for never, ever and never, Amen…”.

    It might need some tweaking. What do you think?

    JD Vance – Just like your Decade of Evangelism! All noise, no action.

    Elected General Synod Member Two – Much as it pains us to admit this, but yes, that is exactly what we need. Words, but no actions. That is actually very Anglican. Americans don’t understand this. The whole point of proper Anglicanism is to avoid making decisions if there is reform to deal with or residual discord to resolve. Other denominations have dissenters. We don’t allow them in our tent. They get expelled so they can go off and make up their own churches.

    Local Canterbury CNC Rep 3 –  Can we have a woman?

    Not-Yet-Ennobled [NYE, William] – In principle, a woman could be considered. But otherwise, no – not the right time.

    Local Canterbury CNC Rep 3  – Says who?

    Not-Yet-Ennobled [NYE, William] – The other committee considering the names.

    Norfolk Nodder [Graham Usher] – Who is in that committee?

    Not-Yet-Ennobled [NYE, William] – You are not on the list of people allowed to know that.

    Ebordom [Cottrell] – Graham, neither am I. So I share your pain.

    Evans Above – Are there any other names to float, or rule out at this stage?

    Not-Yet-Ennobled [NYE, William] – Perhaps I could say that anyone with a tricky safeguarding record cannot be considered. By this I don’t mean anyone with a skeleton in the cupboard or some historic allegation against them. We can manage that sort of thing. What we don’t want is anyone who goes against what we tell General Synod to vote for. It is vital we keep all the safeguarding away from external scrutiny or any independent professional regulation. That is non-negotiable. Anyone who flirts with secular oversight of the CofE is ruled out. If we are to maintain control of the CofE, LamPal and CHW, we have to have an ABC who is under our control. That is what we agreed.

    Evans Above – Er, actually William, that is not in the written criteria drawn up.

    Not-Yet-Ennobled [NYE, William] – Obviously not. These are the higher-level clearance criteria for the other committee that meets and that are only vetted by the Secretary General of the Archbishops’ Council, the Secretary of the General Synod, and the CEO of the CofE.

    Local Canterbury CNC  – …Er, so who exactly are these ‘Three Wise Men’?

    Elected General Synod Member Two – It’s actually just one person, isn’t it William? Perhaps you could reveal that this mystery triumvirate is in fact…

    Local Canterbury CNC  – Ooh, I like the sound of this. It’s very Trinitarian isn’t it? Three persons in One Godhead, indivisible in nature and substance, yet three distinct modes of being, all powerful, all knowing, and in charge of everything…

    Elected General Synod Member One – ? …sounds heretical to me. Or maybe just an unaccountable autocracy in the hands of some mysterious triune being…?

    Not-Yet-Ennobled [NYE, William] – Strictly speaking it is just one person running the CofE, not three different people. If you want to be Trinitarian about it, you could say three personas in One Ultimate Godhead. That is orthodox, I believe.

    Evans Above – I am struggling to make sense of this group. It seems that some of you won’t accept anyone with an opinion on LLF, Brexit, etc. Some of you just want a person who is nice and compliant and does as they are told by the people who are actually running the CofE. Is that right?

    JD Vance – Sounds fine to me. It’s what America voted for.  No time-wasting committees. Chainsaw Hour! Musk Rules!

    Evans Above – I see. So, what is the CNC for?

    Local Canterbury CNC Rep 2 – Yes, I was wondering that.

    Not-Yet-Ennobled [NYE, William] – Well, for the sake of appearances, it is for appearances’ sake. It has to look like a consultation. But it obviously can’t be. I mean, look at the mess CofE dioceses have got into going down the road of voting. Carlisle, Ely…deadlocked! If you give people a democratic say you won’t get anything done. But everybody knows that is the whole aim of Anglicanism anyway, so there’s no point having a democracy that delivers this kind of indecision, when we’ve already set up the CofE to be run like that.

    JD Vance – Exactly! Look, losers, gotta go as I’m due on another call. But can you make sure you start using the Trump Authorised Blibel in future? It has alternative translations that you don’t find in your woke bibles like the NRSV, NIV and all those other versions that suppress the Real Truth. The translators who worked on the text are all from the Top Trumps’ Bible College, and these biblical scholars are the best in the game. The Trump Authorised Blibel tells it like it is:

    “If at first you don’t succeed, declare the result void and vote again until you finally win.” (Epistle of Robert to the Bruces).

    “The love of money is a beautiful thing.” (Song of the Apprentice).

    “God rewards all those who seize power.” (Epistle to Capitol Hill).

    “Blessed are coup-makers, for they shall reign.” (Jesus, Q-Anon source).

    “Just screw unto others who screw unto you.” (Book of Tariffs).

    “God bless President Donald.” (Floridasians).

    “Behold, he hath hushed the Stormy.” (Acts of Daniels).

    “I desire loyalty, not sacrifice.” (Revelations).

    “Vengeance is mine, saith POTUS.” (II Teslaonians)

    Evans Above –  Er…are these verses actually in the Bible? And isn’t your Blibel printed in China, so subject to 50% more tax?

    JD Vance – You can’t put a price on God’s Word!! Anyway, these verses are all Alternative Translations, dumb-ass! Most are from original Q-Anon texts suppressed by your church! You can read more of them on our Biblical Truth Social media platform. The CofE needs to stop being pro-woke and realise the biggest threat to the CofE are the people inside it who have made you so weak! You need an ABC who gets rid of them!

    Ebordom [Cottrell] – Er, perhaps I can say here that the CofE is in good heart, and morale never higher. There’s a lot of excitement and anticipation about the next ABC. The CofE is growing… [fact-check?…do we have any evidence…?].

    Local Canterbury CNC Rep 3 –…Seriously?

    Ebordom [Cottrell] – We are also eliminating financial debts across dioceses by closing churches, merging parishes, employing fewer clergy yet getting even more money out of our congregations. Most dioceses are set to break even in the next decade (NB: no promises).

    Elected General Synod Member Two – Archbishop, are you actually OK or on some kind of prescription medication at the moment? Or just having a funny turn?

    Ebordom [Cottrell] – I am fine – never better! Look, we are fully behind the Save the Parish movement and all it campaigns for. But there are now just going to be a lot fewer parishes to save in the next few years, so it will be much easier. We are sacrificing the many for the few. That’s how we can save the parishes and save on parishes.  It’s sacrificial. I am just channelling the Spirit of 1940 and the Battle of Britain here:

    “Never have so many owed so much to so few.”

    That is how the quota system works in our diocese and everywhere else in the CofE! Churchgoers across the realm can then finally say:

    “This was their finest hour.”

    Evans Above –  ….then again, this might be our darkest hour. God only knows what the dawn might bring…

     

  • The Anglican Communion Reps on CNC

    by Canon Dr Phil Groves, a parish priest and former convenor of the Anglican Peace and Justice Network. His PhD is on Anglican Missional Ecclesiology and he was the Facilitator for the Listening Process in the Anglican Communion and Director of Continuing Indaba.

    Now we know who is to represent the Anglican Communion on the CNC, I hope that commentators from the BBC and other news organisations will stop saying that they will be a conservative block who will oppose any woman as Archbishop of Canterbury. It has always been obvious that this will not be the case.

    I remain unconvinced that this appointment process is sustainable in the long term, but it has given us an excellent diverse group of Anglicans who may be able to enhance the discernment process. They will not stop someone being chosen as Archbishop just because of their gender.

    In a previous post I speculated as to who would be chosen and I was wrong about all the individuals. I said at the time that I had no inside information. However, I was right that the requirement that all of them were recent members of the ACC meant that all would at least be comfortable with their partnership with provinces who had women bishops and even Primates, as well as with those provinces which celebrate the permanent and faithful relationships of their LGBTQI+ people, even if they themselves disagree, even strongly disagree, with equal marriage.

    It looks like on this I was right.

    I said that the Anglican Communion representatives may be more progressive than the C of E delegation. They may well be if we widen the definition of progressive to the key issues of climate activism, gender equality, gender justice, and the defence of minorities, for example Palestinian minorities – I suspect I am right on that as well.

    So, while the list of names is different to that which I put forward, my general point stands. Whoever guided this process did an excellent job. They had to balance all kinds of things and in the end two key decisions made all the difference. One thing I missed was that Canon Isaac Beach is Maori and so the obvious choice as an indigenous person. That was pretty bad and I apologise to him and to you all. I was also wrong about which person would be chosen for the primate seat: either Archbishop Mndolwa of Tanzania or Archbishop Hosam Naoum of Jerusalem would have been a great choice, as they are both wise leaders with deep faith. I suggested Archbishop Mndolwa, but they went with Archbishop Naoum.

    I have met a couple of the people chosen, but from reading their profiles this is what I hope they can bring to the CNC:

    I hope Canon Isaac will bring energy to the CNC with his entrepreneurial vision. I imagine him like Steven Bartlett on Dragons’ Den challenging the candidates to inspire him with a vision. His focus will be on combating the climate emergency. This will be so healthy in a process that might otherwise be bogged down by one issue, and one issue alone. The existential threat to humanity is climate and to have someone in the room reminding the CNC that there is a bigger world out there is absolutely vital.

    I hope that the very presence of Archbishop Naoum in the room will demand engagement on the next existential threat – the proliferation of devastating wars around the world. If the CNC does not stop to pray for the people of Palestine and Israel they will be letting us all down. Any applicant will need to be clear on how the Archbishop of Canterbury can prompt the conscience of the nation and the world in the face of horror, not only in Gaza, but also in Sudan, Myanma, Ukraine and elsewhere.

    I have never met Rev Prof Grace Nkansa Asante, but again she seems a terrific choice. Ghanaian Anglicanism is deeply catholic and it took much longer for women to be ordained there than in the evangelical heartlands of the East African Revival. She must have been convinced of her calling and patient for the church to recognise her. What really excites me is that she is a professor of economics. I hope that her very presence will force the CNC to consider economic justice. Our last two archbishops have spoken with clarity on this and our hope must be that the next will do also.

    The representative of the Americas is an interesting choice. Joaquín Philpotts is from Buenos Aires in the Anglican Province of South America. It is assumed that the Province of South America is conservative but, in reality, it is a complex entity. Previous Primates of the Province of the Southern Cone, such as Archbishops Maurice Sinclair and Greg Venables, were driving forces in what was then simply called the ‘Global South’, but not all in their provinces were convinced of the line they took. Archbishop Zavala of Chile had strong links to the Anglican Church in North America, but with Chile as a separate province, the commitment of the Province of South America to GAFCON and the Global Fellowship of Confessing Anglicans has not been clear cut, with the present primate attending the most recent Primates Meeting.

    My hope is that Joaquín Philpotts will bring the perspective of those Anglicans who are in a tiny minority. Being an Anglican in places like Argentina is often a very deliberate choice. I find that such Anglicans have a very clear understanding of our Anglican identity. They have to explain it to their friends and family who will often be Roman Catholic or Pentecostal. I have learnt so much of what it is to be Anglican from my sisters and brothers in South America, the Philippines, Mozambique, Japan and Korea. I hope Joaquín’s presence will require the candidates to be clear on just what it means to be Anglican in an ecumenical context.

    The last Anglican Communion representative is Bishop Mary Stallard of Llandaff. Some people raise the question of why three relatively small provinces get the same representation as the numerous huge provinces of Africa. It is a valid question. My answer would be that these small provinces are disproportionally affected by the Church of England. Archbishops of Canterbury have a tendency to forget that they are not the Primates of the British Isles – or even the UK. They need reminding. In 2010 Archbishop Rowan accepted the offer to welcome the Pope to the UK at an event in Edinburgh. Lambeth Palace never even stopped to think this might be odd, and the Scottish Episcopal Church was not consulted. The Archbishop of Canterbury was seated among the dignitaries and the Primus among the congregation. I was told at the time that it set back ecumenical relationships in Scotland. Archbishop Justin took it on himself to intervene when the Bishop of St David’s posted inappropriate Tweets. He pre-empted the Archbishop of Wales. The Archbishop of Canterbury needs to remember they are the Primate of the Church of England. It may sound odd, but my hope is that the Bishop of Llandaff will remind the candidates to focus on England in partnership with our neighbours and not act as a superior power.

    We all know that many people will focus on one issue as the CNC looks to appoint an Archbishop of Canterbury. I don’t even need to say what that issue is. My hope is that the Anglican Communion Representatives will enable the English members of the CNC to see a wider vison.

    I hope that those seeking to lead the Church of England will be challenged to demonstrate entrepreneurial ambition. I hope they will recognise the inconvenient truth that climate change is an existential threat. They will have the courage to campaign for peace and confront economic injustice. I hope they will be open to understanding Anglican identity from the perspective of those who deliberately choose to be Anglicans and that they recognise that the primary role of the Archbishop of Canterbury is to lead the Church of England.

    If the Communion representatives can lift the eyes of the electors above and beyond a single issue, no matter how dominating and divisive that issue is, they will have done us all a great service.

  • We used to Have Liturgy: Now we Have Bureaucracy

    by Michael Hampson, a published author devoting his early retirement from parish ministry to producing practical resources for busy clergy and lay-led congregations, beginning with the weekly lectionary resource Sunday Scriptures for Reading Aloud, ssra.uk

    From the first Book of Common Prayer in 1549, the Church of England was a church defined by its liturgy.

    The legislative arguments over PLF continue as though that’s still the case. But it isn’t.

    We are no longer a church defined by liturgy. Out in the real world – in the parishes – we haven’t had a common liturgy for years.

    What dominates the life of the parishes – and makes us all Anglicans – is not a shared liturgy, but a shared bureaucracy.

    For hundreds of years, the Book of Common Prayer defined the Church of England. You could hold it in your hand (less than one inch thick, less than A6 in size) and know that you had the entire Church of England right there, in your hand: the catechism, the calendar, morning and evening prayer, the eucharist, baptism, confirmation, marriage, ordination (bishops, priests and deacons), the burial of the dead, the 39 Articles, the full text of the readings for the Sunday eucharist, and even oddments like prayers for use at sea, and for the anniversary of the accession of the sovereign; the entire church, in one small book.

    It needed updating. 1928 was a wrong turn: archaic language, too internally political, too verbose. But the Second Vatican Council (1962 to 1965) set a new tone, internationally and ecumenically. The 1973 English-language Roman missal gave us a fresh new language for liturgy, and the foundations for the Church of England’s experimental services Series 3, published the same year. After many years of careful real-life testing and feedback, and supplemented by pieces commissioned from actual poets that are still amongst the best-loved pieces of poetic liturgy today (“Father of all, we give you thanks and praise…”), ASB 1980 replicated the high ambitions of BCP 1662: the entire Church of England, defined by its liturgy, renewed, in one book. The pages were slightly larger, the book was now thicker, but the layout and the language were fresh and accessible, and everything was there, from the complete text of the Sunday lectionary to the ordination of bishops, priests and deacons, via the eucharist for every season, baptism for every context, and morning prayer, evening prayer and eucharist for every day of the year; the entire Church of England, in one small book. Anyone could hold it in their hand. It belonged to all of us, to everyone. Hundreds of thousands of copies were bought by the parishes. Gold-edged copies, bound in white leather, were presented at baptisms and confirmations. A church, defined by its liturgy.

    How we got to where we are today is a story for another day; write your own version. But look at us now. Common Worship is not a book, or even a bookshelf, or even a bookshop, but a boundary-less concept, consisting of mismatched publications in different formats, corrections and revisions and supplements to those publications only ever issued as General Synod documents, some in PDF format, others in DOCX or HTML, plus various sections of different websites, apps, annual publications, and more besides if you want to try Google. Fine, if you have the time to spare. What are lay people, or enquirers on the brink of coming to faith, supposed to make of it all? We used to have liturgy; now we have bureaucracy. On Sunday at church, expect a photocopied leaflet; or possibly no liturgy at all. Even bishops don’t know where it begins and ends. Churchwardens haven’t a hope.

    But it’s more than just the loss of our liturgy. Where liturgy once held the Church of England together, something else holds the Church of England together instead; and that’s a huge bureaucracy. For every two-and-a-half full-time parish clergy, there’s a full-time-equivalent diocesan post: someone beavering away doing something at the regional office. All these huge, enormously expensive diocesan operations have emerged from nowhere over the last sixty years. Perhaps they are all doing valuable Christian work by some definition, but they are often hugely partisan, and only very weakly related – if at all – to a church once defined by its parishes and its liturgy. And having emerged from nowhere, these powerful partisan bureaucracies, linked to the national institutions, are now the only thing holding us together.

    At the end of the year 2000 – as the authorisation of ASB 1980 expired – the Church Times carried a cartoon, presumably intended to mock the Prayer Book Society, or at least to mock the idea of nostalgia in general. The caption ran: In 2295AD, the annual meeting of the ASB Society was held on one of Jupiter’s moons. But I think that’s me. Because ASB was replaced by nothing, nothing at all. Someone in clergy chapter pointed out at the time that ASB morning and evening prayer had technically become unauthorised without being replaced, so legally BCP was the only option (or perhaps Patterns for Worship?). I thought of him as a pedant; he was actually the canary in the mine, warning of a future where nobody in authority, or anywhere else, cared about common liturgy any more. Four and a half centuries of a church defined by its liturgy were over. They were over that day – the day that ASB’s authorisation expired – and he was the only one that both noticed and cared.

    Amongst the many losses, when ASB 1980 expired, was the use of adventurous bible translations. The set readings for Sunday’s Holy Communion, printed out in full in ASB, included readings from translations like The Jerusalem Bible, The New English Bible, and The Good News Bible (credited as TEV, Today’s English Version) – whichever the compilers thought best for the particular passage. Common Worship provides no texts and gives no guidance. Two editions of Common Worship’s adaptation of the widely-adopted Three-Year Lectionary were published independently, one in NRSV and one in NIV, both rather clunky study translations compared to JB, NEB and TEV, neither of them always ideal for reading out-loud at length from the lectern. Both the NRSV edition and the NIV edition are now long out-of-print. And the English language moves on: just as ASB 1980 was behind the times in terms of appropriate inclusive language for the human race almost as soon as it was published, so even the latest revised editions of NRSV and NIV are behind the times in terms of appropriate inclusive language for the divine. We are left with no common liturgy, and not even a decent bible. Sign me up for the team to work on ASB 2030. We’ll include a marriage service that works without reference to the gender of the partners. And choose which of these versions of this coming Trinity Sunday’s Gospel reading we might prefer (Year C, John 16.12-15):

    ‘I still have many things to say to you – more than you can know. But the Spirit of Truth will come to you, and guide you into all truth; honouring me, by taking what is mine, and making it known to you; disclosing to you the things that are to come. All that the Father has is mine; and the Spirit of Truth will take what is mine, and make it known to you.’ [ssra.uk]

    ‘I have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear. But when he, the Spirit of truth, comes, he will guide you into all the truth. He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come. He will glorify me because it is from me that he will receive what he will make known to you. All that belongs to the Father is mine. That is why I said the Spirit will receive from me what he will make known to you.’ [NIV – 11 male pronouns]

    ‘I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth, for he will not speak on his own but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me because he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.’ [NRSV – 8 male pronouns]

    (For reference, the word pneuma here, in the original Greek, translated Spirit, has no gender.)

    Meanwhile, the battle over PLF continues, using bureaucratic legislation as if we were still a church defined by liturgy. But take a look around, out in the real world, in the parishes. We haven’t been a church with a common liturgy for the whole of this century. And the PLF texts themselves are unworthy: there are better ones already in use in Wales, or available from scratch in seconds on ChatGPT. So the argument is not even about liturgy, in reality; the argument is about who can control that huge bureaucracy.

    If we can step back from the ongoing argument, the real question is: who are we, really? That’s the energy that’s powering the argument. I have spent my entire ministry, from ordination at the age of 24 to early retirement at 54, under the ‘promise’ that the recognition and blessing of same-sex relationships in the Church of England was/is effectively just months away. A report, commissioned by the House of Bishops, recommending exactly that, was suppressed by the same House of Bishops that commissioned it, while I was at theological college. That’s effectively my entire adult life. The real argument isn’t about authorising a few dreadful unusable prayers; it’s about ‘who we are, really’. That’s why my personal choice has been to devote my early retirement not to fighting the bureaucracy, but to crafting good liturgy; and to beginning at the very heart of it, with scripture. In standing back to take a breath, I realise that in the SSRA Complete Three-Year Lectionary, newly (beautifully) printed and published, we have something we haven’t had since ASB 1980: a complete lectionary with texts, printed out in full, specifically intended for reading aloud; except that this time they are also well laid out on the page, and of course in a properly inclusive-language translation – unlike even the very latest versions of NIV and NRSV. Our bureaucratic church hasn’t paid attention to such things for 45 years. The grand short-lived renewal schemes that come out of our regional and national bureaucracies with seasonal regularity tragically have this one thing in common: they never have anything to say about Sunday liturgy, which is still where ordinary Christian people (remarkably, and perhaps defiantly!) commit, week by week, to learning and growing in faith.

    So maybe I’m quietly working on an ASB 2030 just because nobody else is, and having SSRA in print and online is a major start. You might want to use its Gospel reading on Trinity Sunday. And then why not stick with it for the summer and beyond. Good Sunday liturgies, good words, even well-printed books: they matter. Once they’re in place, they’re just there, dependable and reliable. And they dependably and reliably both welcome and sustain.

     

    (Sunday Scriptures for Reading Aloud: The Complete Three Year Lectionary is available in three print editions, and free online, here)

     

  • We Don’t Need More Theology: This is the Time for Action

    by Charlie Bell, Fellow in Public Theology and Medicine at Girton College, Cambridge, Associate Vicar of St John the Divine, Kennington, in the Diocese of Southwark, and member of the LLF Vocations and Ministry Working Group

    I will admit that talk of clergy discipline is not something that excites me terribly much. If we’re brutally honest, it’s not been something the Church of England has done a stellar job at in recent years – the ‘Clergy Discipline Measure’ often finding itself to be a tool of vexatious and politically motivated censure, or utterly toothless as a way to manage genuine clerical misdemeanours. We are told that the newly introduced ‘Clergy Conduct Measure’ is going to be much better, but the proof of the pudding – as ever – will be in the eating. Yet I think it is worth focusing in on discipline when it comes to clerical marriage because – it is clear – we have become so bogged down in endless debates about ‘the theology’ [sic] that we fail to see the wood for the trees.

    One of the thorniest issues which continues to perplex the House of Bishops is how to enable clergy to enter into marriages to people of the same sex or gender. Because it’s always good to speak the truth, let’s be honest here – it is the ‘how’ not the ‘whether’ that is now being debated, for a variety of extremely compelling reasons. There are clergy who can no longer minister because they’ve entered into a civil marriage – clearly absurd – and marriage to someone of the same sex or gender is now pretty much the only absolute impediment to ordained ministry, meaning that in the middle of a vocations crisis, we are turning to people whose vocations have often been affirmed through official church processes and saying ‘no, thanks’.

    It’s a total scandal – it’s cruel, it’s self-defeating, it flies in the face of the clear evidence that LGBTQIA clergy are often wonderful pastors, the vast majority of bishops agree that it is a pernicious and nasty witness, and most importantly, I think, it is utterly unnecessary. Yet for months (actually, for years) we have heard that boring, ridiculous, and inaccurate phrase, ‘we need to do more theology’ on this, whilst we keep slamming the door in the faces of queer people. Well, actually, we don’t need to.

    The call for theology has been an absolutely superb delaying tactic, of course, but it is ultimately irrelevant, because this is not really a question about doctrine at all – it is a question about discipline. It’s time we named that, and got on with it.

    I do appreciate that there are those who think that those of us pushing for a change in discipline are – in so doing – trying to subvert or change the doctrine, so let me be blunt about where many of us are coming from. I absolutely do believe that sacramental marriage should be opened to all couples. I absolutely do believe that God is already at work in queer marriages and that the church is doing itself a disservice in refusing to recognise this. I am absolutely committed to seeing the doctrine of marriage enlarged and – in being enlarged – enriched. All of that is no surprise.

    Yet I am also clear that this is not where we are at the moment in our decision-making processes (even if we are there in the minds and hearts of many churchgoers and clergy). Again, let’s be blunt. Canon B30 is in force. The Church of England’s current doctrine is that marriage is between a man and a woman (for life, by the way, but hey – let’s not be pedantic, right?). That is also the Church of England’s practice. In order to allow queer marriage in church, we would need to change Canon B30 (which, by the way, does not require a two-thirds majority in General Synod), and we would need to modify the liturgical provision (which does).

    All of this is not opinion, but objective fact. What is also objective fact is that clergy entering into something the church does not call marriage is not going to change any of that – it cannot. In other words, whilst clergy might enter into a covenant that the state calls marriage, the church does not and will not call it ‘the holy estate of marriage’ unless or until – God willing – it is open enough to hear what the Holy Spirit is calling it to do. Which means that there is no specific doctrinal change required to allow clergy to enter an institution which is not – in the eyes of the church – the holy estate of marriage.

    It is important to be absolutely clear about this, because much water has been muddied in this arena, often rather disingenuously. Now, of course, other churches (including other Anglican churches) might well recognise queer marriage as the bona fide ‘holy estate of marriage’, but we do not, yet, in the Church of England. So what is being talked about with clergy entering into this institution is ultimately a pastoral provision in its truest sense – a way of living effectively in the complex reality of the world in which we find ourselves as a church. It is also pastoral provision in a church that really does disagree on the goods present within queer relationships, and the way to order a holy life if we are LGBTQIA. It is, in other words, a way of enabling ministry in a complicated, messy, and unsatisfactory church. We have historically called the ‘complicated, messy, and unsatisfactory church’ the Church of England.

    Currently, clergy who enter a queer marriage cannot exercise new ministry; that means that they cannot be ordained or, if they are already ordained, that they cannot hold a new license – yet if they are currently licensed, they can continue under that license, which shows the absurdity of the situation. Why not? This derives from the so-called ‘Valentine’s Day Statement’ of 2014, where the House of Bishops hurriedly declared that being in a same-sex marriage was incompatible with ordained ministry. I understand that this was a response to an anxious Archbishop desperate to keep the ‘Communion’ happy at a meeting the following day, and leaning heavily on his fellow bishops – times were rather different then. Today, queer marriage rather than civil partnerships is the norm, and yet this nasty little Statement remains the be all and end all of the way we treat queer clergy hoping to gain some civil (not ecclesial) status for their relationship.

    Ministry Division claim (with questionable reasoning) that this Statement prevents people even entering the national discernment process, and bishops – rather timidly, I might add – point to it and mostly wring their hands when they are presented with a married queer ordinand or priest. Some bishops are courageous enough to find limited workarounds, but far too many – especially those on the ‘inclusive’ side – would rather privilege ‘collegiality’ amongst bishops over pastoral care for their queer clergy. It’s pretty scandalous, and eight years on from calls for ‘radical new Christian inclusion’ what we appear to have is ‘radically weak episcopal decision making’ paired with ‘radical obsession with “doing the theology”‘, when no such theology is necessary for a basic, practical decision.

    The thing that makes all this so frustrating is that this statement could simply be rescinded, or bishops could equally simply say that they are no longer abiding by it. If that happened, there is absolutely no impediment to queer married clergy being ordained or licensed. There is not a doctrinal case to answer, because this is not the holy estate of marriage. What, precisely, would change if clergy got married, except an end to the current pointless cruelty? What is the issue here? The only difference would be that clergy would be able to regularise their relationships in law (and please just educate yourself if you don’t know the legal differences and implications between civil partnerships and marriage). The church will not collapse. Queer clergy are already in relationships, and are already being ordained and licensed – I know, because I’m one of them. So what actually changes when we get married?

    I would urge us, then, to take a step back from this endless focus on ‘theology’. There is, of course, theology to be done – about living with doctrinal differences, about delegated episcopacy, about holiness of life and estate, about the meaning of ‘intimacy’ and ‘sex’ and ‘proper place’ and so on. But not one bit of this impacts upon whether clergy should face discipline for entering into an institution that the church does not recognise beyond being a legal entity. I have heard a number of times that seeing this as a disciplinary matter means that queer clergy will be upset the church has nothing good to say about their marriages. You know what? It’s baby steps. Perhaps let us keep our jobs, first?

    After years and years of LLF, and wasted time and lives, and persistent and pernicious cruelty meted out on queer people – particularly on those in ministry – it feels too easy. Yet it really is this easy – this is a matter of discipline, and the bishops have it in their power not only to resolve this, but to stop looking quite so silly at the same time. The current position is objectively ludicrous and cruel in equal measure. No more theology – it’s time for action, instead.

  • Respecting Trans People, Part 2: Towards a Working Group

    by Susannah Clark, a member of the Fellowship of the Love of God who has worked as a Prison Governor in charge of a national centre for sex offenders, as a teacher of teenagers for 25 years and, after transitioning 16 years ago, as a registered nurse

    As I explained in Part 1 of my review of trans crisis in this country – and the lived experience of trans people – we have been ‘monstered’ by the media, whose campaigns have often framed us as predators and perverts in the minds of the public; they have formed part of a coalition including very conservative Christians, a sub-section of feminists who seek our exclusion, and politicians who have ‘weaponised’ rare and exceptional incidents to brand trans people as ‘threat’ out of fear of their voters shifting to Reform UK. The outcome for trans people has been their imminent exclusion from areas of life where they had previously been accepted by most people, who took a live and let live view on a tiny minority who, sadly, now find themselves confronted on the street by thugs and haters who believe they have been given a mandate for their abuse.

    Sadly, the outcome of Living in Love and Faith (LLF) has not kept pace with this onslaught on trans people’s lives.

    By its own admission, in the last four years the Church of England has side-lined work on trans issues. This could have been expected to form an integral part of LLF’s work on – in the words of the subtitle of the LLF book – ‘identity, sexuality, relationships and marriage’. Instead, huge energy and time are being invested in what has been nearing an existential crisis over same-sex blessings and sexuality. But trans people now find themselves faced with an existential crisis of their own. The need for a lead from the Church and a serious programme to deliver pastoral care to trans people – and importantly, their families as well – is now urgent. The ‘trans’ element of LLF should no longer be left in limbo.

    Let me offer a review of the Church of England’s actions in the past decade.

    If we start with the background, trans people had long been accepted and accommodated in their lived identities and gender, for example by the Church’s willingness to ordain trans priests/ministers. We still have transgender clergy today.

    Further to this, in a more tolerant and generous time – July 2017 – General Synod overwhelmingly (over 75%) passed a motion recognising the need for transgender people to be welcomed and affirmed in churches.

    This was followed in December 2018 by Pastoral Guidance: ‘the House of Bishops commends the rite of Affirmation of Baptismal Faith as the central feature of any service to recognize liturgically a person’s gender transition’… They further stated: ‘It is appropriate to identify the preference of a transgender person in respect of their name and gendered (or other) pronouns… the terms ‘trans man’ (referring to someone who has undergone female-to-male transition) and ‘trans woman’ (male-to-female) are sometimes preferred by the individual concerned.’ This has of course now been called into question by the recent Supreme Court ruling (though that only referenced one specific law).

    The Church’s ‘Living in Love and Faith’ initiative began in 2017 and included a study of gender. People were invited to submit views and attend interviews. I myself was invited to an interview on 13 February 2019 with Eeva John, at that time leading the process. She was sensitive but, of course, opening up about one’s life trauma and journey to wholeness came at a cost. But trans people participated in this process in good faith.

    Meanwhile, in July 2019, an updated version of ‘Valuing All God’s Children’ (Church of England’s Guidance for Schools) was published, which reflected the Church’s acceptance of trans identities up to that time. For example, it stated that adolescence… ‘is a time when the school culture needs to offer a compassionate acceptance that again allows young people to ‘try on identities for size’, and explore who they are and how best to be themselves, to grow into self-congruence, whilst acknowledging that they may struggle and be confused along the way. Young adults need to be offered the freedom that was afforded to the child in nursery of the metaphorical dressing up box of trying on identities without assumption or judgement.’ All students should be helped to ‘understand the issues for those who feel they are trans/transgender and may be in the process of transition, understanding the impact that bullying has on them. It is important to teach pupils to understand the appropriate use of gender labels and names for trans people and to explore why deliberately calling someone the gender other than that which they choose to identify as is a form of bullying.’

    However, a counter-culture of ideologies started to emerge (and be promoted by a trans-hostile media): religious ideology, trans-exclusionary feminist ideology, and the ‘anti-woke’ ideology of the political right.

    The work of LLF on the pastoral care of trans people was still being presented as an integral part of its purposes. For example, on 11 May 2021, the Next Steps Group tasked to continue the LLF work reported: ‘The group moved on to discuss the possibility of further work on questions of gender identity and transition. The group acknowledged that this is a complicated area and a first step will be to gather resources to enable the Church of England to be better informed. The group reiterated its commitment to do this together with people most affected by these questions and to do so with the utmost compassion and grace, creating as brave and safe a space for everyone as possible.’

    By the following month, that Group proposed a Working Group on trans issues in the Church: ‘The question of how to take forward the proposal of a working group on gender identity and transition was discussed. The work will need to be undertaken knowledgeably and compassionately as it will involve inviting people to come together among whom there are deep and painful divisions. The Group reconfirmed its commitment to supporting those most affected by questions raised by the work.’ In July, they stated that ‘The group discussed the correspondence members had received regarding the proposed gender identity and transition work and agreed a response.’

    And where is that Working Group? So great was the pressure on Church leaders over the threats of schism caused by the same-sex issue, that it was put on hold.

    In the absence of action at the top, I initiated a very helpful interaction with a conservative ordained minister, who was gracious and decent. His well-known evangelical church was grappling with trans issues too. In collaboration (I also led a teaching session at the church) we developed a 40-point list of guidelines on the pastoral care of trans people (a diluted version can be seen here and was sent to the Next Steps Group on 6 April 2022).

    There was no reply.

    So on 25 May 2022, I reached out again to the LLF team, asking whether the group had been formed, and how many trans people were part of it. I noted ‘I am anxious that the latest review/process does not get overtaken by any individuals who attempt to de-construct trans identity, or subvert our lives, while I respect a place for a range of views.’

    This was the reply: ‘The further work on gender identity and transition is currently on ‘pause’ as the Next Steps Group works out by and with whom and how this will be taken forward. So no group has been formed, as yet, and no further work has taken place. It will, of course, be vital for any work to involve the full range of diversities in relation to lived experience and convictions and, as you know, that in itself is a significant challenge in the current climate. It will also be vital to do this in a way that seeks to be authentically pastoral and welcoming of all. There is much work to do in gaining the trust of trans people who have experienced the deep and personal pain of being at the receiving end of so much unhelpfully and unthoughtfully articulated ‘debate’ both inside and outside the church.’

    So that was official: The Working Group on trans issues, proposed the previous year, was ‘paused’.

    That was disappointing, firstly because people had opened and given themselves in good faith to the LLF process, and secondly because the climate in society for trans people was by then worsening.

    Since the trans element of LLF had been put on hold, it was saddening to read that the statement on 3 March 2023 by the Next Steps Group tasked with following through on LLF issues opened with the words: ‘The remit of the Next Steps group now having reached its conclusion…’

    In July 2024 (three years after a Working Group on trans issues had been proposed) I wrote to Bishop Martyn Snow, who had taken over as lead bishop on the LLF process: ‘The reason I am writing is that I am confused and unclear about the state of play on future guidance/teaching/pastoral care for trans people individually in the Church, and for church communities themselves, trying to do the right thing if they have trans people – or, importantly, their families – who come to churches. It seems, predictably and somewhat understandably that the LLF workgroups will be preoccupied by the issues around gay sexuality, but I should love to know what the programme is with regard to trans people and the Church. Is there a working group specifically tasked with addressing trans issues? Does it work to a timeline? Who heads it up?’

    He replied the next day, and I am grateful for his honesty: ‘The short answer is that, since I took on this role, we have been totally absorbed with the PLF and questions of marriage. And as you know, LLF was intended to be about so much more than this…  it is certainly the case that there is no working group on pastoral support for trans people.’

    I appreciated Martyn’s forthrightness, but although he proposed to find out the state of play and get back to me ‘in the next few weeks’, nothing happened.

    It is now nearly summer 2025, and the Working Group on the pastoral guidelines to address the pastoral needs of trans people in church communities remains on hold.

    However, there are growing tensions building up against various previous policies of the Church: for example, on the affirming use of pronouns in church schools. The Department of Education released non-statutory guidance in 2023 which stated: ‘It is expected that there will be very few occasions in which a school or college will be able to agree to a change of pronouns. On these rare occasions, no teacher or pupil should be compelled to use these preferred pronouns.’ That implies a state expectation that ‘birth’ pronouns should normally be used, not ones the student identifies with. That conflicted with the Church’s own 2016 guidance on affirming pronouns a student identifies with.

    In April 2025 the Church of England provided new and updated guidance for church schools addressing bullying (Part B:2.2). It still says schools must challenge discriminatory and dehumanising language and not allow deliberate misnaming. Schools are to avoid causing harm. However, there is ambiguity here in that this new guidance alludes (Footnote 81) to the use of a pronoun with which a child does not identify being potentially harmful. That much maintains the 2016 assertion that this could be seen as a form of bullying, but there is growing political pressure to close down chosen pronouns in most cases.

    At this point, I wrote yet again about the non-appearance of that Working Group that had been proposed four years ago.

    I understand this week, after yet further enquiry, that the LLF team are now passing on the handling of trans issues to Richard Sudworth, the director of the Church’s Faith and Public Life Team. The leads on LLF now tell me (26 April 2025): ‘The challenges we face in capacity and focus on current LLF work remain… in that me and my team are having to place almost our full focus on seeking fuller use of the PLF (alongside appropriate pastoral reassurance). However, I recognise that this is not an adequate situation given the pastoral needs and care for trans people that you rightly remind us of.’

    I appreciate the frankness, and I’ve been offered a meeting which I believe may take place this month. But to be plain, it’s not about me. I would rather follow my secluded life of prayer. However, I feel very badly for young trans people and all those trans people in vulnerable situations. While trans people have been left ‘on ice’ in the outworking of LLF, events in the country have moved on – as we’ve seen with the terrible ‘vilification’ of trans people by media, politicians, and those with antagonistic ideologies. There is urgent need for leadership from the Church because many in the trans population feel in crisis, and face growing hate on the street. The very identity of trans people has been called into question. This will impact Anglican provisions like schools, and will undoubtedly lead to calls from some for changes in official guidelines. I don’t believe gender identity issues can be left in limbo any longer. I know that some trans people I respect prefer to ‘let sleeping dogs lie’ but then the other parties – including some who oppose transition altogether – will push and push. We need re-affirmed guidance and respect for who we are, and that has got to involve a working group at last, if only to home in on advice over pastoral care (which impacts not only trans people but their families, and churches uncertain about how to meet the present developments).

    What is needed is not passive toleration of trans people, but positive leadership and guidelines on welcome, inclusion, and acceptance (just as Synod overwhelmingly affirmed in 2017). How best can trans people be cared for, protected from subversion of their identities and self-worth, and offered space to flourish and open up? Following the way of the Cross, how can we become the whole of who we really are, in Christ?

     

     

     

  • Respecting Trans People, Part 1: A Pause for Kindness?

    by Susannah Clark, a member of the Fellowship of the Love of God who has worked as a Prison Governor in charge of a national centre for sex offenders, as a teacher of teenagers for 25 years and, after transitioning 16 years ago, as a registered nurse

    These are distressing times for people who are trans. They face increased hostility and danger on the streets, because of the way the media has amplified exceptional cases of ‘bad apples’ and associated trans people with predators, framing them as a danger to the public, when in reality the vast majority are decent people just trying to get on with everyday life. Trans women have been portrayed as a threat to cisgender women, when in fact both groups face unwanted male attention and the risk of male violence.

    Ten years ago, the culture wars were less febrile. Most people had started to take a live and let live approach to trans men and women, and many grew to affirm them. There was greater generosity of spirit and proportionality, combined with a realisation that transition for many could lead to better lives.

    However, in the intervening decade we have seen a convergence of very different and contrasting ideological groups, intent on isolating trans people as a class, for a variety of reasons: first there were deeply conservative and fundamentalist religious campaigners for whom transition itself was abhorrent; secondly there was a subsection of feminist activists who campaigned to exclude trans women from areas of life, and to subvert their innate and essential sense of identity; thirdly there were right-wing populists who tried to play on the worst human instincts to identify scapegoats in order to increase support for their politics; fourthly there were more established political parties who started to fear the traction the far right was gaining, and have come to see trans people as politically expendable; and finally – doing huge damage to trans people and treating us like pariahs – there has been media portrayal of trans people as threatening perverts. They have smeared all trans people in the public’s perception and amplified the hatred of the ignorant.

    Kindness and empathy have been so missing from recent discourse.

    Now we have the Supreme Court ruling that, in the context of one Act, the term woman should be understood to mean genital biology at birth. However, assuming that what it means to be female and a woman can be summarised by genitalia alone is a huge simplification. Reducing women to their bits also ignores the complexity of intersex people. The intention of the Supreme Court was to  leave it to elected policy-makers to develop and evolve how, in practical terms, the interests of groups might be protected in a humane and responsible manner. So it does seem to me that Baroness Falkner of the EHRC (Equality and Human Rights Commission), notwithstanding lip-service to the rights and needs of trans people, is running ahead of the game in pressurising public bodies to extend one finding of one law to general and hard-line implementations that exclude trans people, without taking responsibility first for the impact such enforcements may have on already endangered and vulnerable trans people’s lives, and allowing further time for debate and consultation on how to manage these issues with proportionality.

    The taboo of the toilets has been a focal point. Like anyone else, trans people go in, find a cubicle, pee, wash hands, and leave. That’s what people do, because, let’s face it, you really want to spend as little time as possible in a public loo. I have been transitioned for 16 years and I have never once faced any hostility.

    Of course, the argument is that some pervert could go into the public loos, and that might be someone trans; therefore, it is claimed, *no* trans women should be allowed in women’s public toilets. Think about that a moment: men’s public loos, with their open urinals, involve more exposure of genitals, and are there no cisgendered male perverts preying on boys or young men? Are the risks allegedly posed by trans women greater than the much greater number of male perverts molesting boys in men’s toilets? Of course not. Yet we don’t ban every male from those toilets. That would be disproportionate. The whole toilet thing has been weaponised, where it was working event-free for decades before.

    You could extend the exclusionary principle – excluding all members of a class of people because of rare and exceptional bad people – to schools (where I worked for 25 years). Some teachers molest young children. Yet male teachers are routinely allowed to oversee boys getting changed at school. Aren’t they a danger too? Well, the answer is the same as for trans women in loos: no. Or rather, there will always be risk of sex offenders but we don’t pin that risk on everyone else. We could ban all men from teaching but, of course, we don’t. It’s a matter of proportionality, and part of the proportionality needed is a mature, balanced sense of responsibility for minorities and not just the majority: worked out and developed by government, and certainly not rushed headlong into, which is what the Chair of the EHRC seems to want to do.

    And then there is the matter of NHS hospitals… already being pressurised by Baroness Falkner to exclude trans women from women’s wards immediately. After transition I re-trained as a registered nurse and absolutely loved my work. This included medication, preparation for theatre, cleaning up shit and vomit, and yes… intimate care such as washing genitalia and catheterisation. Out of care. Out of kindness and compassion. Many patients (male and female) were appreciative. Not a single woman objected. I would have shown respect if they did, but in 10 years no-one ever did. When you’re sick, you just want to get well.

    Yet now, if I myself fell ill, I would be characterised as a potential ‘threat’ and excluded from a female ward. I was safe before as a nurse (nurses of all genders work in wards for men and wards for women). But in my own vulnerability I would be cast out.

    Up until now there has been ‘live and let live’. We have deployed kindness and generosity of spirit to accommodate all the varieties of people who make up a hospital ward. That principle should apply to society as a whole.

    People talk about ‘the gender ideology’. I’m not an ideology, I’m a person.

    I have described elsewhere my own recovery after gender surgery, in a convent where the loving sisters were there for me, as women caring for a vulnerable woman. The healing continued (to my great joy) and I returned to work – I worked in critical care, and acute care, and in later years with the elderly. And psychologically I flourished, able at last to openly be who I was. At work and at play. It is wonderful when solidarity is extended to trans women by other women, and in my experience many do. They are not all exclusionary ideologues. There is live and let live. And kindness.

    If you have a trans sister or a trans daughter, you might well recognise that they are obviously female. Many friends, neighbours, colleagues who know trans women would too. They know, through personal interaction and goodwill, that these friends have female brains, female manner, female presence. Or, at least, they’re certainly not guys!

    Yet politicians allege we’re not real. We are fake.

    But the opposite is true. We’re fake before transition.

    The cost of ‘performance’ outside your true self can be devastating. But when I transitioned… such a psychological ease came flooding into my life. My life became congruent, and no longer tormented by dysphoria. And after surgery: a sense of wholeness, well-being, and flourishing. Decades of self-harm just disappeared, sad memories of my past. Today my life is so happy, and I’m loved deeply by my precious wife, my children and my friends. But I feel so sad for young trans men and women, and those trans people who are socially vulnerable, or abused by neighbours, or abandoned by society. And that’s why I’m writing this article – out of solidarity – for them.

    For many trans-excluding activists, I fear that the campaign for this particular Supreme Court decision is not their only goal, merely a bridgehead leading to what they hope will be further enforced exclusion. They frame us as the enemies of women.

    It’s as if a trans woman like myself doesn’t care about the protection of all women. I have cared about women all my life. Most trans people do – they care hugely. Many of us have mothers and daughters and wives and sisters who we love and care about. Indeed we have a vested interest ourselves in protection, because trans women know discrimination themselves.

    In the end we can either accommodate each other’s differences with kindness, or we can go down the road of populism, hatred, othering, and the policing of tribal boundaries. It doesn’t have to be that way. Instead of meanness of spirit I think we need: generosity, kindness, responsibility, balance. We should help one another to be the whole and best of who we really are.

    Politicians need to stop courting populism, and find the courage to reject simplicities and recognise the need for proportionality in what follows this one-off ruling. Baroness Falkner may want to go rushing in, but there needs to be much further reflection, nuance, and consultation.

    There is a strong case for pausing on actions to be enforced, until an independent review has recommended how to navigate the need to protect women generally, but also the need to protect trans women before their lives are imperilled, and sort that out, because frankly, that is an urgent responsibility of good government. And yes, of course, the present government may be running scared of losing some votes by sticking its head above the parapets on these issues. Hiding behind the Supreme Court ruling and allowing the EHRC to carry the can, at the immediate expense of trans people, would be a cowardly abandonment of a most vulnerable group in our society.

    But there is a different way: the way of the convent sisters who nursed me and accepted me as a woman, the way of most women I nursed who welcomed my care, and so many women I meet in day-to-day life: not activists with ideological agenda, but human beings willing to treat other human beings with generosity, decency and kindness.

    The sad thing is that I feel like the present campaign to define trans women has been big about sex and genitalia, but the reality is that women are more than their bits. As trans women our biological brains and gestalt identity may also be irrevocably female (in a whole spectrum of different versions). That ‘being a woman’ is at heart something you are, how you know yourself, the heart of your being, and loveliness, and potential. To reduce the definition of a woman only to sex and genitalia is to ignore so much more of what makes a woman who she is. In a way it’s quite insulting. It’s not all about sex. I’m a human being who happens to understand myself as woman at the heart of my being. I’m a threat to no-one, and a gift to those who love me, and we don’t deserve to be excluded, far less to be vilified.

    All of us should care about each other, as we dare to open up, more and more, to the whole of who we are.

     

    *   *   *   *   *

     

    Susannah Clark has written other articles, and advice on the pastoral care of trans people, that can be found here:

    http://transition.org.uk

    https://trans.org.uk

    https://viamedia.news/2024/06/19/the-whole-of-who-we-are/

  • Consensus, Compassion, Truth, and Grace

    by Charlie Bell, Fellow in Public Theology and Medicine at Girton College, Cambridge, Associate Vicar of St John the Divine, Kennington, in the Diocese of Southwark, and member of the Vocations and Ministry Working Group

    In every political fight, not least those within the church, it is a good idea – every so often – to take a step back, and ask some questions about the landscape we now find ourselves in. Even those calling for ‘more theology’ in the glacial LLF process admit, at least privately, that this is more a political than a theological fight. That’s not to say that there aren’t firmly held theological views influencing our debates, but it is to say that it is clear that it is not on the grounds of theology that the outcome of LLF will be decided. There are two broad strands within the church that have come to theologically divergent conclusions on the goodness, or otherwise, of same-sex, same-gender relationships. In doing so, they have come to theologically divergent conclusions on Christian anthropology, and many other things beside. This is about sex, certainly, but it’s about much more than that – the ethical questions are deeper and wider, and often end up in theological divergence on the nature of God, rather than of God’s creatures.

    It’s good, I think, that we have named that: but naming it doesn’t solve the problem. Those on different sides of the ‘debate’ are not being difficult when they refuse to agree with the other, and nor are they being – in the main – dishonest. Neither, let us be clear, does one ‘side’ have the monopoly on good Christian theology. There remains, of course, spurious talk of there being swathes of the Church of England who ‘haven’t made their mind up’, but there is precious little evidence of such people, because the question is not so much ‘would you bless these people’ but rather ‘would you let someone else bless them, even if you might, in good conscience, not do it yourself’? That is the political reality we find ourselves in, and it is the key question. I am yet to find someone who doesn’t have an answer one way or the other, whatever the genesis of their answer, and however unclear that person might be on the underlying anthropological questions that arise. The reason for that is because we are ultimately at a binary choice, and that is why this issue has turned to politics and away from the idea of shared discernment. There is now a choice that needs to be made.

    Once again, in private if not publicly, most people are agreed that there is now a moderate majority – perhaps more than moderate – in the pews, and amongst the clergy of the Church of England, in favour of blessing same sex couples (and allowing clergy to marry their same-sex partner) at the very least, and probably a majority in favour of marriage in church. We know that, in autumn 2023, the College of Bishops supported enabling clergy to enter same-sex civil marriages, and that there was an indicative vote in the House of Bishops with the same result. In the General Synod, it is clear by a basic review of the numbers that there is a narrow majority in favour of blessings and clergy marriage. In other words, views have shifted on this, and the current teaching and practice of the Church of England no longer reflects what the majority believe and wish for. The majorities are indeed quite narrow (and goodness knows, if they’d gone the other way, they’d be lauded as clear and decisive), but then everybody knows that the General Synod (because of how it is elected and formulated) is not representative of the wider opinion in the Church of England, tending towards what is often described as consensus. Yet this consensus is really created through ensuring that the different ‘camps’ of people in the Church of England get represented on the General Synod, with minority perspectives overrepresented by design.

    I cannot be the only person to feel a bit fed up with the political games. I’m bored of them – they make me angry, they make me intemperate, and they make me frustrated at the way the church corporate behaves. I get particularly angry when I sit in a room, Zoom or otherwise, and political point scoring is the endless currency, at the expense of LGBTQIA people, who are frequently conspicuous by their absence. We remain a thing – an issue. There are speeches in General Synod rejoicing at the frustration of the progress to give us the crumbs under the table. We are expected to absorb this, whilst those who could be our allies tell us to have cooler heads and do very little to use their power and influence to support us in case it makes difficulties for them. Yet, as with every group facing structural and systemic oppression, that is our lot – one need not look too far to see similar dynamics at play in other vexed ecclesiological questions.

    Yet whilst there is a place for anger, there is also a place for calmly interrogating the assumptions that underlie our current impasse, and I’d like to take a moment to do that in relation to consensus. This is the new word of the moment – and I am willing, at least for now, to suspend judgement and imagine that those calling for it are speaking out of a place of genuine concern and not political manipulation (although, not being naïve, I must admit to being sceptical).

    The argument goes like this: decisions on LLF are very significant, and are splitting the church. We need to reach consensus on this, meaning – in Synodical arithmetic – getting to two-thirds majorities, the use of Canon B2, and so on, because unless we do the church will split. This is just too important to rely on slim majorities.

    Now, leaving aside the reality that a slim majority in General Synod represents a significantly less slim majority in the wider church, let’s just think for a moment about what is being said here. Firstly, the suggestion is that if such a consensus view was reached (at two thirds of Synod, for example), then the threats of schism would dissipate. There is no evidence that this is the case. Secondly, the suggestion is that the majority view should be overruled by the minority until consensus is reached. It is not at all clear why this should be the case, not least given that the suggestion is not that all must change practice but rather that pastoral accommodation be made that would enable those who would like to, to do so. If we were talking about a ‘must’ and not a ‘may’ situation, the argument might hold more water. But we’re not – we’re talking about enabling a clear difference in theological belief to be embodied through an extremely modest change in practice.

    Thirdly, and perhaps more importantly, we are being asked to accept as a fait accompli that schism will come, that the ‘church will split’, without interrogating that claim for a moment. Who precisely is making that claim, and why? On whose terms is this debate being held? If we might resituate it for a moment, we are being pressurised to accept that the anti-LLF minority’s view is inevitable – that it simply logically follows that schism will come if particular demands aren’t met, and this is controlling – through fear – the actions of our decision-makers. It is time for us to name that and stop accepting the inevitability of such a choice – for a choice it is. This is about red lines, and because of that it is ultimately about holding the majority to ransom. Recognising that rather changes the dynamics.

    Which brings me back to the reality of our current situation.

    Those arguing for no change on the basis of needing a consensus seem not to realise – or care – the strain that this is taking on LGBTQIA faithful Christians. I want to imagine that it is the former, and that this is a failure of imagination and not compassion, but having sat in enough meetings, I don’t think the sheer cost of this for LGBTQIA people is remotely recognised, or, frankly, that we matter to many of those who still see this as ‘an issue’. Compassion requires you to ‘suffer with’, and there is precious little evidence of that. At the same time, there are potential ordinands desperate to offer themselves to the church in service who are being banned from doing so, and faithful priests who have lost their ministries for following their hearts. There are queer couples to whom we can still not offer even basic sacramental provision. Every time there is even a gentle move forwards, we are faced with a barrage of passive aggression and made to feel like we are the problem.

    But we’re not the problem, and we are asking for crumbs.

    As we look towards final decisions being made, it is incumbent upon us all to tell the truth, and for our bishops – who are scared by the constant threats – to recognise that it is not to the rich and powerful, not to those who withhold parish share and make demands, that they most owe their allegiance, as followers of the crucified Lord.  It is to those who ask for a cup of water, and who are still refused. It’s hard work to push back against powerful narratives, but it is incumbent upon anyone in Christian leadership to seek and speak the truth, with grace. Time will tell if we are willing to do that, together. Yet let us not forget that the God who knows the secrets of our hearts is the God who will call us all to account.

  • Common Worship and our Gender-neutral God

    by Michael Hampson, a published author devoting his early-retirement from parish ministry to producing practical resources for busy clergy and lay-led congregations, beginning with the weekly lectionary resource Sunday Scriptures for Reading Aloud, ssra.uk

    Thirty years ago, in making the move from ASB to Common Worship, the Church of England took the decision to vastly reduce the use of he/him pronouns for God.

    This was an incredibly bold and progressive decision for a church traditionally defined by its liturgy.

    That this decision really matters is seen not least in the open wounds that continue to grieve the contemporary church: institutionalised sexism, the abuse crisis, LLF. The role and the nature of gender is a common thread through these three – especially, inevitably, the role and nature of masculinity, and toxic masculinity. If we constantly reinforce the image of God as exclusively male, we just throw more fuel on these three fires.

    Let us give thanks to the Lord our God

                It is right to give (him) thanks and praise

    It happened at the millennium. After twenty-seven years, we would have to start omitting the word ‘him’. It makes the rhythm of the line completely different. To practice, we chanted, before the service, ‘Right! Thanks! Praise!’

    Other provinces and denominations had made the change more clumsily. The lazy default is to replace every male pronoun for God with the word God; hence, in many provinces: ‘It is right to give God thanks and praise’. It is factually accurate – you could sign it in a legal document – but it lacks all poetry: that double-g is ugly and awkward, and placing the word God on a down-beat is somehow just wrong. So others chose to say, ‘It is right to give our thanks and praise’. It is a more poetic line – but it makes it all about us.

    The Common Worship solution is altogether better. It considers the line in its context. A look at the previous line reveals that the two suggestions for replacing the word ‘him’ (namely ‘God’ and ‘our’) are both redundant, as they are already specified in the previous line: it is ‘us’ giving thanks, ‘to the Lord our God’. The response in Common Worship – which simply omits the word ‘him’ – is sufficient, and far more poetic. ‘Right! Thanks! Praise!’

    And of course no he/him: no endless reinforcement of the false image of a masculine God.

    But somehow we didn’t manage to follow through on this incredibly bold and progressive decision, made thirty years ago. The bombardment of masculine pronouns continues unabated, not only in the traditional texts still in use (and in some other legacy texts brought forward), but in our preaching, in our conversations, in our parish magazine articles, on our diocesan websites – and of course, in our bible translations.

    I have actually made a point of avoiding he/him pronouns for God throughout my ministry – for more than thirty years. It takes a little time to develop the habit, and still the occasional pause to re?phrase a sentence before speaking – but pausing before making an assertion about God usually does no harm. And as a general principle, it seems appropriate not to make so many assertions about God in quick succession that pronouns become necessary. It seems appropriate not to reduce God to a pronoun at all, rather than arguing about which pronoun to use.

    Late in the pandemic, I was seven years into ministry in a four-parish benefice, and it came about that the time was right to invite four different lay people each to take their first turn at providing a homily at the Parish Communion. Each brought their own unique gifts and experience to their contribution, and each was a delight. But this was interesting: one of the four had decades of faith history, and spoke of God as he/him; the other three had walked much of their faith journey in the previous few years, and they did not use pronouns for God at all; I had the impression that they would no more have referred to God as he/him than referred to God as ‘it’.

    This is surely the future we need: a future without the false deification of masculinity, toxic or otherwise; indeed a future without the deification of either gender over the other; a future with God as naturally without gender, just as God is without height, weight, or race.

    God’s pronouns are not he/him. And a tidy and universally uncontroversial solution is not to reduce God to a pronoun at all. We can all adopt this approach, in our preaching, in our conversations, in our parish magazine articles, on our websites; and in our liturgy, thanks to Common Worship, if we’re just slightly selective about what we use; and now, for the first time, in our bible readings as well.

    Sunday Scriptures for Reading Aloud uses he/him pronouns for Father, for Son, and for Jesus. But God, Lord, the Holy Spirit, the eternal Word, and the eternal Christ, take no pronouns. And as with ‘Right! Thanks! Praise!’, the solution is always poetic. The first priority of the SSRA translation was that it should work well for reading aloud, in ordinary churches on ordinary Sundays. But inclusive language was just part of the translator’s DNA. So as the project reaches the milestone of publication as a perpetual print edition, it has yet another reason to be called remarkable, timely and necessary: it is the only lectionary translation in which God does not take he/him pronouns. It is done so subtly that you would not even notice unless it was pointed out. And yet the potential is a generation who would no more refer to God as he/him than refer to God as ‘it’; a generation who would simply choose not to reduce God to a pronoun at all, because that’s not how you speak about God.

    So yes, the SSRA Complete Three-Year Lectionary is in print: the Luxury Hardback Edition, the Standard Lectern Edition, the Home Paperback Edition, all supported by the live website. In another surprise, I find that it also appears to be the only version of the Three-Year Sunday Lectionary in print in the UK at all, apart from the much-criticised new catholic edition in ESV. This does not speak well of our prioritisation and valuing of scripture, as a church.

    One of the true joys of the last three years has been spending so much time in scripture. And one of many things I have learned is that we gain nothing from endlessly interrupting the flow of the lectionary with our special themed Sundays, with readings chosen ‘to fit the theme’. Those Sundays mirror the approach taken by our opponents: they risk presenting a false God that we have cobbled together in our own image. In stark contrast, if we just read steadily, ploddingly even, through the Gospels and Epistles for the year, as set for the Thirty-Four Sundays in Ordinary Time (given a muddle of different names in Common Worship), we hear a gospel of love and grace, and liberation from the law, condemning those who would condemn us, doggedly, week after week after week, making a mockery of those conservatives who claim to be ‘bible-believing Christians’ (and indeed of those liberals who think the solution is to respond to them by saying ‘the bible doesn’t matter any more’). What we need is a bible translation that re-engages us with the scriptures, that has us on the edge of our seats with anticipation as the readings are about to begin, that makes the reading of the scriptures a highlight of the Sunday gathering.

    Sunday Scriptures for Reading Aloud aims for all of this and more. Take a click around, in time for the start of a new three-year cycle this Advent – or even in time for this Sunday – here.

    Previous Via Media News blogs on SSRA are here and here