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Author: Helen King

  • Sexuality Issues and the Church’s Theology Problem

    by Savitri (Savi) Hensman. She has been an activist for decades for LGBT+ and wider inclusion in churches and society, at times holding leadership roles in key organisations. She has also written extensively on such matters, including newspaper articles and the book Sexuality, Struggle and Saintliness: Same-Sex Love and the Church, Ekklesia, 2015. She is a British Sri Lankan lesbian.

    Signing up to Issues in Human Sexuality, an outdated 1991 House of Bishops statement, will no longer be required of everyone seeking ordination in the Church of England, General Synod has decided. This document had long been used to block people in committed, physically intimate same-sex partnerships from being Church of England ministers or to force them into secrecy.

    It is an important, if modest, step forward, as this has been replaced by Guidelines for the Professional Conduct of the Clergy, which is at best ambiguous and still leaves many lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans and intersex (LGBTI)+ Christians at risk of having their vocations stalled. Its many provisions include: “The clergy should set an example of integrity in relationships, and faithfulness in marriage. Marital infidelity is regarded as ‘unbecoming or inappropriate conduct’ for the purposes of the Clergy Discipline Measure. The House of Bishops’ Marriage: A Teaching Document (1999) clearly affirms, ‘Sexual intercourse, as an expression of faithful intimacy, properly belongs within marriage exclusively.’” While some same-gender couples may regard themselves as married, especially if their relationship has been legally marked or religiously celebrated, not all would agree.

    Removing Issues from the discernment practice does at least move us from an apparent obsession with a single topic, and in the process removes assumptions which were confused, offensive or both; for instance that it is impossible to be bisexual and in a faithful monogamous relationship. And there are hopes that the withdrawal of Issues as a core document will remove an obstacle to becoming a more loving and welcoming church, though there is still a long way to go.

    The question remains of why a booklet meant to encourage study and discussion and (in its own words) “which we do not pretend to be the last word on the subject” should have been given this central role in the Church’s life for a third of a century. One may also ask why, when on various sexuality-related and other issues clergy are allowed to be guided by conscience, this remains a sticking point. The answers may shed light on weaknesses not only in Church attitudes to sexuality, gender and diversity but also in theological approaches which underpin practice more broadly, including Christian witness and pastoral care at times of crisis.

    The puzzling persistence of Issues as a central text

    Why was Issues given such a central role? Clearly not because it reflected cutting-edge theology. What might be described as modern Christian thinking on sexuality – though largely rooted in the Bible and tradition – dates back at least to 1914.[1] Since then, a huge volume of theological books and articles which might be classified as affirming have been published. Anglican, Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Reformed, from multiple continents: the list keeps growing. Even if we only include documents produced or commissioned by official church bodies or written by bishops, other senior denominational figures or professors, a strong case has long been made for allowing freedom of conscience to those who think it right to celebrate committed, self-giving love.

    Indeed, in the two decades before Issues, three official C of E working party reports had been produced, all of which were undecided or argued that same-sex partnerships were not always wrong. These were not however acted on or, in some cases, even released publicly. And just a few years after Issues, the former chair of the drafting group, ex-Bishop of Salisbury John Austin Baker, a distinguished theologian, publicly changed his mind. In Homosexuality and Christian Ethics, a lecture at St Martin-in-the-Fields in 1997 which was subsequently published, he wrote:

    “Both heterosexual and homosexual partners can say that the bonding they have experienced, the joy in physical intimacy and the special value each attaches to the other, have been powerful factors in helping them to become better people. The fruit of the Spirit has grown in that soil; they have come in some degree nearer to Christlikeness. In short, through the sharing of sexual love they have been the grace of God to each other.”

    Priests in such relationships could show how a homosexual orientation could be used for good. Baker could not see “that married heterosexual clergy have the right to deny their homosexual brothers and sisters the potential spiritual blessing of a sexual relationship when they themselves enjoy that blessing.” The difference was emphasised between such partnerships, based on “self-denial and self-discipline for the sake of the other,” and contemporary patterns in which people moved from one relationship to another never finding what they sought, with magazines, films and TV portraying sex as merely for fun.

    Yet though Issues in Human Sexuality had a limited original purpose, was disavowed by one of its key creators and became swiftly outdated, it was given a key place in the process of deciding who would be ordained. I do not pretend to be objective nor to be able to state with certainty the underlying reasons. But I will share some suggestions; and concerns which may arise, as Britain and the wider world face intense challenges.

    Love, mercy, justice and Church of England theology

    The debate on sexuality in churches over the past half-century or so has sometimes been presented as a clash between Christianity as long understood and modern thought, in which the church should either stand firm or embrace progress, depending on one’s perspective. Yet those of us with very different positions are influenced by various strands of contemporary culture as well as Scripture and tradition, whether or not we recognise this – and we are not only affected by culture, but help to shape it.

    I believe that the Holy Spirit can be at work among people of all faiths and none; and that discerning and celebrating this, and working with other people of goodwill for humanity, are important tasks for Christians today. But it should also be recognised that, historically, many were led by faith to work alongside their neighbours for greater LGBT+ and wider equality in society. Meanwhile aspects of wider culture have sometimes undermined, rather than fuelled, the quest for inclusion.

    One of these is the tendency to treat some types of people as mattering less, though everyone is equally made in the Divine image and invited to citizenship of God’s realm on earth. The New Testament indicates that, from the earliest days, the tendency to lord it over others, or align with those of higher status and power, and temptations to violence or exclusion, have been problems among Christ’s followers. This intensified as churches sought, or aligned with, worldly empires. The C of E’s wealth and closeness to the British state, while bringing positive aspects in terms of cultural receptivity and social responsibility, have also made it harder to see through – and resist – exploitation and oppression of various kinds alongside subtler kinds of inequity.

    Despite various false trails and dead ends, the mid-twentieth century brought major advances in worldwide recognition of the value of universal human rights, international law governing armed conflict, democracy and freedom. This was inconsistently applied and often thwarted; yet across continents, there was a mood of hope and a drive towards equity, including on grounds of gender, race and sexuality. This was both encouraged by, and fed into, theology. There was a rediscovery of the radical nature of the Gospel and aspects of ancient Christianity.

    This influenced the C of E in important ways. Yet even senior figures who favoured inclusion were often hesitant, partly because of powerful opposition. Many failed to grasp that, important though it was to be sensitive to those who felt unsettled by change to hierarchies based on identity, thwarting someone’s calling on that basis was even more serious. Forward-thinking leaders may also have assumed that the climate would long remain favourable to greater inclusivity, hence a sometimes-glacial pace of change would do no great harm, especially since women, minorities and working class people were used to being marginalised. But that was not to be.

    Rapid economic, technological and social change followed, bringing huge wealth to some but fragmentation and uncertainty to many others. In England, there was a backlash against advances in equality, in part orchestrated by prime minister Margaret Thatcher, as people’s feelings of insecurity and hunger for belonging were channelled in unhealthy ways, though there was also mutual care and solidarity. Sections of the media also used the HIV/AIDS epidemic to stoke prejudice. “Children who need to be taught to respect traditional moral values are being taught that they have an inalienable right to be gay,” Thatcher declared in October 1987, in the lead-up to negative policy and legal change. This backward shift was reflected in the C of E, including the infamous “Higton Debate” at General Synod in the following month. More “conservative” leadership had an impact at home and beyond (though of course religious and political conservatism, or indeed anti-inclusive radicalism, do not always go together).

    The gap between academic theology and materials aimed at a wider audience – often simplistic in approach to the Bible as well as non-affirming – was growing. Those passionately opposed to greater inclusivity were largely better-organised, more determined and stronger on communication. Some managed to portray themselves as championing non-Western Anglicans, despite an important and growing body of work from Christians of global majority heritage making the case for greater inclusion. Things became markedly worse at, and after, the 1998 Lambeth Conference, especially as some C of E leaders embraced a theology of “unity” at home and abroad which required repeated concessions to those who threatened schism if inclusivity was taken too far.

    The tendency to intellectual conformity, or treating specific views on sexuality and gender identity like a test of orthodoxy, could be found among some affirming Christians too, making dialogue harder still. Even worse, some appear to argue that, because the law now allows same-gender couples to marry and this is socially acceptable, a church closely aligned to the state should do likewise, as if it were right to endorse marginalisation and even criminalisation of minorities if and when the government of the day held that stance.

    Nevertheless, despite church politics and a national swing towards the far right and fear of the “other,” advances continued towards respect for diversity on various fronts. However, some C of E members have absorbed a worrying view of biblical faithfulness, in which passages can be plucked out of historical and theological context and an interpretation imposed which is meant to go unquestioned. In addition, self-giving intimacy by life partners may be spoken of dismissively as a kind of indulgence, rather than, at best, a call to embrace the discipline as well as joy of love and die to the old self trapped in selfishness or conformity to social pressure, instead growing in Christlikeness.

    This is not to say that everyone who is non-affirming refuses to address key issues thoughtfully. But the approaches most widely popularised by religious leaders and media tend to lack nuance or recognition of the possibility of being wrong. This is an abandonment of a rich heritage in Anglican and wider church circles in which the interplay of Scripture, tradition, reason and experience help Christians to discern what love requires in various settings. Jesus’ own teaching and example, as portrayed in the Gospels (e.g. Matthew 7.12-20, 12.1-14, Mark 12.28-34) are too often disregarded. So is the work of some of the most influential early Christians in drawing on their heritage of faith with the aid of faith, rather than turning fossilised fragments into weapons or being trapped as in amber.

    Amidst an upsurge in authoritarianism and scapegoating, this is dangerous. With welcome exceptions, inclusive Anglicans communicate largely with one another or a theologically well-educated few.

    Moving forward amidst uncertainty

    The removal of Issues as a key document, amidst other advances (even if patchy and painfully slow at times), opens up opportunities to move forward further, which will require sustained efforts at local, regional and national level. Some people may understandably focus their efforts on inclusion solely on this challenge.

    Yet the wider task is also important: that of reviving popular awareness of aspects of Christian history and theological developments which although largely forgotten do not deserve to be. Bridging the gaps among those with different kinds of knowledge, based on scholarship, experience, prayerful reflection and dialogue, is an important task amidst competing social pressures, in a troubled world.

    Involving large numbers of people connected with this Church, in revisiting how love, mercy and justice-seeking can be put into practice now, in LGBT+ inclusion and beyond, is challenging yet may be vital. Alongside attentiveness to immediate concerns, an ecumenical and international outlook may assist us here.

     

     

    [1] This was when Pavel Florensky wrote The Pillar and Ground of the Truth.

  • No First Reading – Four Circumcisions Instead

    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

    Yesterday morning at church, we had four circumcisions. Plus a weird growth on a ligament. This all happened where the first reading should have been.

    It didn’t matter who was there. Young families. First time visitors. People who had been coming for a month or two. Gen Z students who expect trigger warnings. Suddenly, without warning, there it was: four circumcisions and a weird growth on a ligament. There was all manner of weird physiological stuff following on from the four circumcisions, actually. In an ordinary church, on an ordinary Sunday morning.

    They weren’t actual circumcisions, obviously. Just a polite elderly reader at the lectern who might as well have gone to the lectern and said ‘penis’, ‘foreskin’, and ‘ritual genital mutilation’. Four times. With no context and without warning. Why do we put up with this?

    I have spent so long in the SSRA lectionary and translation (Sunday Scriptures for Reading Aloud, ssra.uk) that I have forgotten how simply dreadful, and unfit for purpose, are the Common Worship (CW) lectionary, and the regular translations (in this case NRSV), compared to the enormous (and almost universally untapped) potential that the three-year Sunday lectionary actually holds.

    A small percentage of churchgoers may be so used to the word ‘circumcised’ that they only heard ‘Hebrew as opposed to Gentile’ when they heard it yesterday; or perhaps 75% of them are so bored by the standard of the public reading of scripture in their church that they can be relied upon not to be listening at all. But it’s no excuse. This will not do. We should not be using this word in public worship any more than we should be using the words penis, foreskin, or ritual genital mutilation in regular Sunday worship. There is no excuse. SSRA is not the first scripture translation to euphemise this word; and the precedent of avoiding passages that address the first-century Christian circumcision controversy directly in contemporary lectionaries has already been set (you will not find any version of the Sunday three-year cycle that includes Saint Paul’s frustrated wish that circumcision enthusiasts recircumcise themselves and accidentally castrate themselves in the process [Galatians 5.12]). The question of whether the ritual surgical removal of the foreskin from the penis is necessary for Christian salvation is not one that was worrying people in the pews of the average Church of England church yesterday morning; neither does the unnecessary surgical removal of the foreskin from the penis serve effectively, for most contemporary listeners, as a touchingly beautiful metaphor for salvation in Christ. It is time to select a different passage of scripture for the lectionary – there are only so many slots available – or find a different way of translating this one. As for preaching about the first-century controversy around keeping the Mosaic law: the controversy was also expressed around the food laws, also well-documented in the lectionary, and these are surely a more appropriate example for use on a Sunday morning. In 2025, you need to prepare well when approaching the circumcision texts even for a small bible study session; you don’t know what personal issues people bring, what surgical history or personal trauma surrounds the specific issue, that you just don’t know about – and why is the penis suddenly a legitimate subject for discussion anyway, and can we move on quickly now please, before I call the safeguarding officer. Seriously.

    If you want to remind yourself just how dreadful yesterday’s reading was, it’s here. I still can’t easily parse verse 15, ending in ‘it’, or verse 17 (what substance?). I know I could if I tried, but this was supposed to be a text read aloud from the lectern to a mixed congregation, not a written comprehension exercise for a year 11 class.

    Circumcision made a brief appearance three weeks ago, when the original catholic version of the three-year lectionary (Lectionary for Mass, LFM) hinted at Saint Paul’s frustration, by saying that circumcision is irrelevant (Gal 6.14-18). Revised Common Lectionary (RCL), and the CW lectionary based on RCL, demanded the whole explicit chapter. SSRA opted to start Colossians a week early instead.

    This juggling of epistles is not unusual. RCL/CW epistle and Old Testament readings are quite typically two or three times the length of the equivalent LFM readings. As a consequence, the RCL/CW epistle is often a week or two out of sync with the LFM epistle. And as another consequence – an unintended consequence – almost all RCL/CW churches choose to have only two readings instead of three. The RCL editors had hoped that, by making the readings longer, they would ensure that people heard more scripture; the actual consequence is that people in RCL/CW churches have a much poorer diet of scripture than they would have had otherwise. SSRA corrects that error, with a classically Anglican approach, taking the best of the catholic original and the best of the RCL (protestant) adaptations – far too many details to list here – but click through the last two or three weeks (start at https://ssra.uk/?20250727) and you find readings from Colossians, that instead of sounding culturally alien and incomprehensible (or even offensive or triggering), are as attractive and accessible to readers and hearers alike as any that you will find anywhere in scripture. It’s just a case of paying attention to the context.

    “Where other translations are offered primarily as study texts, or to be read alone at home, the SSRA translation is offered specifically for reading aloud… [The hearer should be] drawn in by the reading – without needing a printed text – even on first hearing. …aims to deliver the full meaning of each passage in language which is clear, timeless, dignified, and, where appropriate, even poetic.”

    And the original listed aims: “encourages more confident participation in the public reading of scripture by more readers; encourages a greater appreciation of the public reading of scripture by more hearers; offers all three readings, to establish familiarity with more than 400 key passages of scripture across a three-year cycle, for an investment of just five minutes of the Sunday gathering each week; compatible with thousands of lectionary-based resources in print and online for sermons, prayers, children’s work and more; a complete Sunday lectionary solution for busy clergy and lay-led congregations; ideal for ordinary local churches on ordinary Sunday mornings; takes all the hard work out of finding, choosing, printing and distributing the Sunday morning scripture readings.”

    There has been a nagging condemnation of SSRA’s inclusive language policy on the Church Times letters page for the last few weeks, specifically the way SSRA avoids calling the Holy Spirit ‘he’. A writer this week asserts that while the Holy Spirit is indeed not male, unless we continue to refer to the Holy Spirit as ‘he’, we all risk committing the heresy of representing the Holy Spirit as a mere impersonal force, so apparently the pronoun ‘he’ for the Holy Spirit must remain in consistent use regardless. I stand corrected! But there will always be a reason not to change. There will always be a reason to do nothing, a reason to turn down the invitation to the banquet, a reason to pass by on the other side, a reason to say that doing nothing is somehow safer, wiser, more sensible, less trouble. But sometimes, the time has come to do something; the time has come to make things better. The church is in a mess in so many ways. I just thought: let’s at least get the bible readings sorted out. I had the right mix, at the right time, of pastoral experience, technical skills, opportunity, motivation, and academic background (psychology, philosophy, linguistics, theology), and here’s the result. Click, share, use.

    The three-year print editions of SSRA were released this spring. The Home Paperback edition is already in its third printing. All three editions are now available on Amazon, but it is cheaper to buy direct at ssra.uk/shop. You can see SSRA in use at Llandaff Cathedral here: https://www.youtube.com/live/gPHxNLZqG0k?t=1615s

     

     

  • Jagged Edges: Where Safeguarding Overlaps with the Trust Deficit

    by Professor Helen King, an authorised preacher in Oxford Diocese and an elected lay member of General Synod

    (picture credit: BBC/Yourkevich)

    ‘Trust’ is currently one of Synod’s key words. As part of the formal agenda, we’ve recently had a presentation and a report on why we don’t trust each other. At the July 2025 General Synod the papers included a further one on the progress of this work, which includes developing “trust and trustworthiness repair strategies”. That paper told us that the Trust Task Group, working with a reference group and a theologian (thus avoiding from the outset the question ‘where’s the theology for this’?), has decided to cancel one of its surveys, originally planned to produce some quantitative data, simply because it’s so blindingly obvious what the results will be.

    From what I’ve been reading recently, I wonder how far this trust deficit is related to the series of safeguarding disasters with which we have to live: from IICSA to Smyth to Soul Survivor to the Nine O’Clock Service with, along the way, the prime-time TV airing of The Sixth Commandment bringing to a far wider audience what happened in Stow and Maid’s Moreton. One of the many items on the agenda at the July General Synod this year was the Final Drafting and Final Approval (the capital letters are there because this is a piece of legislation) of the Redress Scheme for victims and survivors of church abuse. The Redress Scheme is person-centred and trauma-informed; it is not an adversarial process, because repeatedly having to tell one’s story is retraumatising. It now has to go through Parliament before an opening date can be announced, and information and updates can be already seen on the House of Survivors site.

    As one of the supporting documents for the Redress Scheme sent to Synod notes, “The Scheme’s development has been overseen by a project board which included representation from victims and survivors, and which has heard from a broader group of voices on a survivor working group.” Survivors have been involved at every stage.

    In another arena, a friend of mine, Maff Potts, set up the Camerados social movement, which has just celebrated its tenth anniversary. The movement is all about the importance of ‘People and Purpose’ and Maff has now published a book telling stories from that first decade. Camerados reverses the usual service or charity model of helping others, and instead recommends “Ask someone who is struggling to help you”. This is a powerful model, and I think the involvement of survivors in designing the Redress Scheme can be seen in these terms.It’s now very clear that survivors can and do help everyone else.

    Here, I want to introduce a resource from another group of survivors; a resource which needs to be better known and which has made me think about trust. Produced in the Newcastle Diocese, this is Jagged Edges: A New Stations of the Cross. I was thinking about Jagged Edges in the Redress debate last week, when Revd Jenny Bridgman mentioned Bessel van der Kolk’s The Body Keeps the Score, a classic on how trauma goes on affecting the body and the brain. She suggested that the body of the Church also keeps the score; that our responses are continuing to be affected by what IICSA and subsequent reports of abuse have told us about ourselves. Even those of us who are not victims and survivors of church abuse – and in every debate on the subject at Synod there seem to be more speakers saying that they too have been through this – are in some way traumatised by what we now know. Is that affecting our capacity to trust each other in other areas of church life?

    Although it has the full support of the Bishop of Newcastle, Jagged Edges is not a clergy-led project. It was created by survivors David Creese, Peter Locke and Sarah Troughton and combines David’s poetry, Sarah’s linocut prints and Peter’s music. All the resources are available on one website, here, including audio of the music and the poems and a video of a presentation given by the contributors and their editor, Maggi Creese, in the Moral Injury Webinar Series hosted by the International Centre for Moral Injury at Durham University. Like an earlier Newcastle Diocese creative project on abuse, “If I told you, what would you do?”, this is all free to download and use.

    As that Durham University Centre explains, this is about trust: “Moral Injury involves a profound sense of broken trust in ourselves, our leaders, governments and institutions to act in just and morally ‘good’ ways”. Moral injury not only feeds into the current Synod debates on trust, but also underlies the Private Member’s Motion considered in July about whether the House of Bishops should “urgently submit itself to an independent culture and governance review” (for the record, we did not vote on this but decided instead to move to Next Business).

    The focus of Jagged Edges is on repairing relationships in the Church; while embracing anger and pain in the “wounded heart” of the Church, the tone is generous. The resources are best used slowly, and absorbed gradually, as – with this reader at least – they connect viscerally. There are reflections included, which can be used by an individual reader or in a group, The exploration of abuse through the experience of Jesus draws on Michael Trainor’s 2014 book The Body of Jesus and Sexual Abuse. Even the process of lino printing replicates abuse: cutting into the sheet, covering it with ink – “shame, guilt and self-condemnation” – hiding it under a sheet or paper then applying pressure to reveal the image. Traumatic events affect memory; details are clear, but the narrative order breaks down. That is just as true of the differences between the gospel accounts of the days leading up to the Cross.

    While the poems start from and explore the original Greek of the descriptions of the events leading up to the Passion of Christ, the resources go up to the Resurrection with an image of Jesus and Peter healing their relationship on the beach as they begin to repair broken trust. As Jagged Edges says, “It is not a matter of finding the right way to say ‘sorry’ so that we can all ‘move on’. It is about discerning what it would mean to do as Jesus instructs Peter when he says ‘Feed my sheep’.”

    When I was working with a spiritual director, she advised me to keep on asking the question, “Where are you being fed?” We need to be fed if we are to feed others. As we not only listen to survivors, but learn from their wisdom, is this the re-set we need in the trust debate?

    The exhibition of the Jagged Edges material will be at Newcastle Cathedral from 1 October.

  • Liturgical Business? Canon B2, the Calendar, and Prayers of Love and Faith

    Sammi Tooze is a member of General Synod, a member of the Liturgical Commission, and the diocesan contact for Together in York Diocese

    When General Synod meets later this week, we find ourselves dipping into the canonical waters of Liturgical Business. This will be the first piece of formal Liturgical Business many of us will have participated in, as it’s the first occasion this Quinquennium that it’s found itself on our agenda. The proposal before Synod will be to add two entries to our Common Worship Calendar: a Festival of God the Creator and a Commemoration of the Twenty-One Martyrs of Libya.

    But why the Calendar, and why only two additions? One of the treasures of our Calendar is the framework it offers us for spiritual journeying, a pilgrimage of heart and mind through the spiral of the liturgical year. As we follow the cycle, we encounter God and God’s story, and are changed by it. In the Calendar, we also encounter the stories of saints – days intentionally set aside to remember holy people who have gone before us in faith. On their appointed days, we not only recall their names but reflect on how their journey of faith, in all its joys and challenges and messiness, inspires and shapes our own lived-faith today.

    So who decides which holy people appear in our Calendar? Roughly every ten years, the House of Bishops requests that the Liturgical Commission reviews and revises the Calendar. It is widely recognised that at this point in time, the Calendar is ready for revision, in part to review gender and racial balance, but also to discern any people who have departed this life long enough to now be considered. In order to be included in the Calendar, a person must have died at least 50 years previously – unless they are a martyr – which is why people like Florence Li Tim-Oi, Desmond Tutu and the late Queen are unable to be considered under the current rules. Having said that, the guidance issued in February 2025 under GS Misc 1409 reminds us of the flexibility we have with local commemorations, offering opportunity for each of us to integrate people such as these locally to enrich the spiritual lives of our communities.

    Back to July’s Synod. GS 2408 notes that

    The Commission resolved in May 2023 that … preparatory work is undertaken to enable a substantial revision of the Common Worship Calendar in the next synodical quinquennium

    and:

    Another part of this preparatory work for a more in-depth revision of the Calendar is the current ‘pilot’ item of liturgical business … This item will reintroduce Synod to the procedures of liturgical business after a period of ten years, which will be in itself a helpful learning exercise.

    Why is this a “learning exercise”? Because, ever since the Common Worship Calendar was created as an alternative to the Calendar in the Book of Common Prayer, any revision must be done as Liturgical Business under Canon B2. This Canon is used for any liturgical material created where an alternative provision already exists, and the current Synod has not been exposed to such a situation.

    And it’s this which is the key distinguishing point between what we will be doing with the revision of the Calendar, and the Prayers of Love and Faith (PLF). In the case of the PLF, this is a new resource, created specifically because no alternative material exists. It therefore doesn’t need to go through a B2 process in the same way as the Calendar, simply because it is not being offered as an alternative to existing liturgical material. There simply aren’t existing worship materials to which the PLF are an ‘alternative’.

    In the early stages of developing the PLF, there were many canonical routes presented as options to either ‘authorise’, ‘commend’ or ‘approve’ the PLF material. It was concluded that the House of Bishops would commend the material under Canon B5, initially to be used within existing regular acts of worship. So, when the House of Bishops commended this material for use across the Church of England, this was a clear statement that they do not present us with a departure from Doctrine.

    The use of B5 rather than B2 is important, because under a B5 process there is no requirement for a two-thirds majority vote in the three Houses of Synod. To amend the Common Worship Calendar, B2 is needed, and so we need those majorities and therefore that full synodical process of Liturgical Business.

    Synod has voted for the PLF also to be used in ‘bespoke’ or ‘standalone’ services – in fact, the suggestion of bespoke services was made after the original LLF vote took place, at a point when Synod was of the understanding that this vote would enable the resources to be used in their entirety. One objection being raised is whether a bespoke service may ‘look’ more like a wedding. Would that make it be a departure from Doctrine, requiring a B2 process and thus a two-thirds majority vote in all three Houses? It is worth reminding ourselves of one key thing here. Neither the existing commended PLF resources, nor the proposed bespoke services, have any rubrics relating to these aesthetics – what people ought to wear, who to invite, how the church may be decorated, whether bells are rung or flowers held. This means that the suggestion that a bespoke service may ‘look’ different to a regular act of worship incorporating PLF is difficult to understand as a reasoned argument, as even in a regular act of worship a couple may invite friends to celebrate with them, and may choose to dress in a certain way. And, of course, the prayers themselves are just the same; the material for a bespoke service simply offers a structure by which the already commended material can be used. Theologically these blessings are the same; it’s just that one is pre-timetabled, and the other isn’t. In itself, a bespoke service does not suggest anything more of a departure from doctrine than does a regular service where the PLF are used.

    With this in mind, with the material already commended demonstrating that it is not a departure from Doctrine, we can be confident too that bespoke services will meet the same requirements. So, noting that they are not offering an alternative to an existing resource, we do not need to use precious synodical time and resource to put them through a Canon B2 process. Synod has voted for the PLF to be used in ‘bespoke’ services too, and they can continue to be offered under Canon B5 as commended material by the House of Bishops.

     

     

     

  • There’s Another Church Abuse Crisis That’s in Every Congregation, and Very Much Closer to Home

    by Sally Hope, a writer with a specialism in faith, feminism and domestic abuse. Sally is the creator of the Always Hopeful Programme, and her latest book No Visible Scars is a recovery journal for Christian women who have experienced domestic abuse

    “I don’t believe in God anymore” I angrily declared, two weeks after I’d left my husband.

    It was a lie. I’ve known God as a real, tangible presence since I was a small child. I remember feeling comforted by God at night when I was five years old and scared of the dark, and when I was a lonely young teenager away from my family for the first time. I had stories of answered prayer, of God’s intervention in my life. I could no more stop believing in God than I could stop believing that the sky is blue. The problem was, I hadn’t been aware of God’s presence lately, and while I believed God existed, I felt abandoned and angry. I didn’t want to believe in God.

    What I really meant was, “I believe in God, but I have lost faith in God.”

    Hanging on the wall of my lounge was a collage of family photographs, made for me by my sister. Nestled among the pictures of my husband and my children were words from Psalm 37, “Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.” It was ironic that these words were woven through my nearest and dearest, because the only desire of my heart was quite simple: a happy, peaceful family. I had “delighted myself in the Lord”, but I did not have the happy family I desired. I was bitter. Looking around church, I saw happy normal family after happy normal family. I didn’t feel like I was asking for the earth. Why then, had God given my friends at church the only thing I really desired, but not me? Why had I been given a husband who would spend our 13-year marriage abusing me and my children?

    God, I had decided, was a God who makes promises, but does not keep them.

    My experience is not unique. Christians experience domestic abuse at the same, if not higher levels than the rest of society.[1] One in four of us will be abused by an intimate partner at some point in our adult lives. How many women are in your church? Try to picture those women. For every 20 women quietly sitting in your pews, five of them will be experiencing domestic abuse, mostly secretly, silently, feeling stigma and shame. Hiding it, like I did for thirteen years. Many of them will eventually walk away from their faith altogether as a result.

    I didn’t lose my faith. I don’t know why but I know it was certainly not because of anything I did. Over the next three or four years I experienced the God who shows up, and won’t go away no matter how much you rail and spew your anger. The God who leaves behind the ninety-nine to pursue the one. The God who loves relentlessly, outrageously, who heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. In that time I questioned everything I had ever believed, my religion fell apart, but my God clung onto me as I rebuilt both my life, and my faith.

    Christian domestic abuse victims face unique challenges. In the majority of cases their faith and the abuse they experience are inextricably linked. Abusers will use spiritual abuse as a means of controlling their victims, making the victim feel as though a challenge to the abuser is a challenge to God. Abusers shoehorn themselves into God’s place in the lives of their victims, and often use biblical texts and Christian doctrines to justify their abuse. All victims of abuse find it difficult to leave an abuser but the added element of spiritual abuse, along with negative attitudes to divorce and the importance placed on two-parent families within Christian culture, can create another barrier for Christians. When we do leave, the way our faith has been weaponised against us invariably leads to a full-blown deconstruction of our beliefs, and if our abusers have managed to drive a wedge between us and God we can be resistant to God’s voice and tender care.

    As a Christian woman I found the strenuous journey of recovery lonely. I received excellent support from secular support agencies, found some levels of connection with other survivors in peer support groups, but always felt that none of them had the answers to the burning questions I was left with in relation to my faith: “Why did God allow it to happen to me?” “Is it okay for me to get divorced?” “Do I have to forgive my ex-husband? And if so, what if I can’t?” Worse, they saw my faith as part of the problem, not as part of the solution.

    Whilst secular support workers didn’t “get” my faith, my Christian peers didn’t “get” my experience of domestic abuse. I was told to repent of my own part in the abuse, urged to drop the charges against my husband, and made to feel less like an equal and valuable member of my church, and more like a project, a failure, and someone to be pitied, or worse: judged. I walked the path to recovery with Jesus by my side, but I longed to walk it with other Christian women who understood and connected with my pain.

    It’s now 12 years since I left my husband. My faith is stronger than it’s ever been, my relationship with God more loving and beautiful than I ever could have imagined. As I grew in strength I began to support other survivors of abuse; I volunteered at my local women’s refuge, and after a while I got a job there, running peer support groups for survivors both in the refuge and in the community. In the course of my professional life, I met other Christian survivors, listened to them ask the same questions I asked, saw them experience the damaging disconnect from God that I once felt, saw some of them leave their faith behind altogether and others struggle to rebuild, all the time deeply hurt and often broken all over again by the poor response from their churches.

    I do not know why God broke through my anger, hurt and broken-ness to help me rebuild my faith, when other victims don’t seem to experience that same divine healing. But I know that when I ask God, God’s reply is, “what are you doing now to bring my outrageous love to those women? Where are you in their journey of recovery?” I am grateful that God walked that journey with me but, more than anything, I wish other Christians had.

    So, I took the lessons I learned during my own recovery, along with my professional knowledge and experience of running support groups to create a peer support programme for Christian women. Never again should a Christian woman have to recover from domestic abuse on her own. My Always Hopeful Programme is now run online, via Zoom by Restored, a charity dedicated to supporting survivors of abuse and equipping churches to do the same. It’s also being run as a face-to-face peer support programme in a slowly growing number of churches in the U.K. Participants tell me it’s been a key part in their journey to wholeness. There is no substitute for face-to-face peer support and I would love it if every survivor was able to find an Always Hopeful Programme running in a church near them.

    I also realised, from my own experience working with survivors, that not everyone will find the courage to join a support group. There can be lots of reasons why women won’t join an Always Hopeful Programme, from fear or social anxiety to simple logistics of childcare or not being able to find a programme near to them. So, for those women who cannot attend an Always Hopeful Programme, I wrote No Visible Scars, which will be published on 17 July 2025. ‘No Visible Scars’ is an individual recovery guide for Christian women that seeks to help the reader work through those questions in order to “work out their own salvation” (Philippians 2:12) in the light of their experience of abuse.

    The Church has so much to offer to victims of abuse. It is often part of the problem but it could, and should, be part of the solution. We are called to care for the hurting, to defend the oppressed and to seek justice. Always Hopeful [2] and No Visible Scars are there to help the church accompany the women in every congregation who are victims of domestic abuse.

     

    Notes:

    [1] A 2018 study by Restored in partnership with the University of Leicester and Coventry University found that 25% of Churchgoers (across all denominations)  reported experiencing domestic abuse in their CURRENT relationship, and 42.2% reported experiencing at least one abusive behaviour in any intimate relationship (past of present) during their adult life. There have previously been studies by both the Evangelical Alliance and the Methodist Church that have found that rates of domestic abuse in churches is similar to that of the national average. Nationally 1 in 4 women will experience Domestic Abuse.

    [2] To run an Always Hopeful Programme at your church:
    online information here and     with free webinars at 12 noon, Monday 14 July [https://www.eventbrite.com/e/finding-hope-when-everything-seems-hopeless-tickets-1306878471689] or 7 pm Thursday 21 August [https://www.eventbrite.com/e/finding-hope-when-everything-seems-hopeless-tickets-1306883225909]

  • Alternative ‘Anglican Ordinations’ – A Crucial Question

    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.

    Andrew Atherstone’s account of the ‘ordination’ – more on those quotation marks later – of seven ‘missionary clergy’ as deacons by Bishop Martin Morrison of the Reformed Evangelical Anglican Church of South Africa leaves a crucial question unasked and unanswered.

    Andrew is impressed and excited by the event. These ‘seven deacons’, he says, ‘have launched a grand experiment, designed to stress-test a prototype pipeline’. We are told this is a ‘bold beginning’.

    There are many things we are not told. We don’t know anything about the seven, except that they have had extensive training and would not accept an ordination pathway through the Church of England. We don’t know where they are serving, or if they are paid or self-funding. We don’t know to whom they are responsible for safeguarding. The Church of England authorities were given one day’s notice. Only 150 were present – presumably to limit the danger of a leak.

    In contrast to the openness and publicity around the ordination season in the Church of England, this is all so cloak and dagger – why? No one was going to rush in and stop the event. No one would be arrested.

    However, the crucial question neither asked nor answered by Atherton is if all of them were men. And what is not said in his blog about gender is vital for the future of the movement.

    This is relevant to those quotation marks around the word ‘ordination’. We are told that ‘the service was entirely under the auspices of REACH SA’, but the Handbook of Procedures of REACH SA is very specific: deacons are not ordained – they are ‘made’. By ‘ordaining’ deacons Bishop Morrison has broken with the polity of his church. Deacons remain laity in REACH SA; they are ‘made’ not ‘ordained.’

    REACH SA is clear on this distinction because women as well as men can be ‘made’ deacons even though it is not permissible for them to lead worship, or preach in church services (unless all present are women). Women cannot be ordained in REACH SA.

    In the polity of REACH SA, full-time ‘lady-workers’ may become ‘lady deacons’, following lengthy training and discernment and as such they will be able to be ‘used (sic) to read lessons, lead the singing or assist in other ways during Church services.’ There is no requirement in the Handbook that men who want to be deacons are in full-time ministry.

    This is in stark contrast to lay men who may be used to lead services, preach, and, in exceptional circumstances, to conduct a Baptism service or a Holy Communion service. Get your heads around that: ‘lady deacons’ can only lead the singing, lay men can baptise and preside.

    Ordination is only for men as presbyters. As presbyters they are leaders in the church.

    REACH SA seeks to reassure us that the reasoning behind this ‘is not an issue of chauvinism or dismissiveness or even unfair discrimination but arises out of theological reflection on God’s order in His world and Paul’s instructions to Timothy (1 Timothy 2:11f).’ The readers of this blog are unlikely to be convinced. It is by the fruits that we know them, not by fine words, and the result is misogyny.

    The question that Andrew Atherstone seems to avoid asking or answering is whether this action is simply about objections to the changes under LLF, or whether it reflects a deeper desire for a church that also removes women from any form of leadership.

    I suspect that there is an internal agenda in play here. This is not just a step on the journey for a unified movement, but perhaps a statement of intent from a branch of that movement seeking to control the internal agenda of the Alliance. There are those who seem to want the emerging church to define gender roles on complementarian principles. REACH SA considers this a first order issue just as much as their opposition to equal marriage, and so must those supporting these ‘ordinations’.

    I can’t see how any deacons of REACH SA can be in full communion with any women priests and bishops even if they agree on equal marriage.

    This leads me to wonder where this leaves those who would have once described themselves as ‘open evangelicals’ who are open to women in leadership, but not to equal marriage. Are they being pushed to the side?

    I can’t see how this alliance can hold.

     

  • 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.