ViaMedia

Author: Helen King

  • 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

     

  • Marriage and the Bible: It’s Complicated

    A Response to the Part Report of the Episcopal Reference Group on the Doctrine of Marriage

    by Johanna Stiebert, Professor of Hebrew Bible (University of Leeds) and co-director of The Shiloh Project

    I have been married for twenty years and have co-authored a book on marriage – but I am still awestruck at the sheer amount of preoccupation and nitty-gritty theological advice on marriage that is to be found in “A Part Report of the Episcopal Reference Group of the Faith and Order Commission: Living in Love and Faith and the Doctrine of Marriage, February 2025.”

    This interim report condenses a great deal of information into nine theses. Still, it is 16 pages long and refers and links to yet another 316-page (!) document, which is also in a state of ongoing development, namely “The Church of England’s Doctrine of Marriage: A Compendium of Sources.” Say what you like: there is no shortage of effort, consultation, discussion, or verbosity on display here.[1]

    The upshot of this word-mass, however, is, ultimately, rather underwhelming: it can be summarised as “regarding marriage, there has been continuity over a long period of time and there has been change, too. Some change has been accepted, other change has been considered, resisted and rejected.” This is not especially enlightening as far as upshots go.

    While it is admirable and important to listen and to talk about human relationships and marriage, has this exercise really been productive? Is there appetite for getting serious about inclusion? And, for all the extensive and ongoing consultation and discussion, is there still “stuff” that has not been discussed, or discussed openly, frankly, and fully enough?

    Let me, an ongoing studier of the Hebrew Bible, give my own responses in the form of nine theses – adding yet more verbiage on the matter!

    1. First, the sheer amount of ink spilled might imply that the Bible (the main source of authoritative reference for Christians) refers to “marriage” in ways copious and clear. Not so. In the Hebrew Bible (the by far larger part of the biblical canon), there is not even a word that captures English “marriage.” Instead, there is – usually rather fleeting – reference to men “taking” or “lying with” or “going in to” women. There is little about, let alone clarity concerning, marriage ritual or ceremony (i.e. weddings), or anything much either descriptive or prescriptive – that is, about what “being married” is or should be. There is nothing about marriageable age, very little that suggests consent, and consequently, very little evidence for what might pass as a “stable core to the doctrine of marriage” (p.5). It is important to be frank about what is not there in the Bible.
    1. Second, what is there, or what can be puzzled together about unions between men and women (Thesis 1), is often acutely violent. Men take women[2] following wars (e.g. Deuteronomy 21:10-14 and Judges 21:10-12, 20-23). If this is marriage, it is also rape, rather than “sexual intimacy” or “friendship” (Theses 6-7). In the Hebrew Bible husbands also get a pass for accusing their wives[3] of infidelity, in the absence of proof, and for submitting them to what looks like a gruelling public humiliation (Numbers 5:11-31). Surely, this kind of conduct in marriage would not pass as “honourable” (Thesis 3); this kind of conduct, while prescribed in the Bible, should be resisted and should fall into the category of “a need for change that has been accepted.”[4] There is blatant association in the Bible between violence and marriage. This needs to be acknowledged and resisted. 
    1. Third, marriage is idealised as “a sign of the relationship between Christ and the Church” (Thesis 4), and as “God’s explicit sanction and endorsement as a holy vocation and whole-life calling in which to serve God and neighbour, not only in creation but in the Christian dispensation also” (p.8). It is good to be aspirational and to go into a relationship, especially one aimed at joining families and raising children (Thesis 5), with resolve to be friends and loyal (Theses 7 and 9). A text like Ephesians 5:21-33, as much as it clearly suggests hierarchy in marriage (vv.23-24), and as much as this text more than any other is cited by Christian abusers in cases of spousal violence, could be made right: a Christ-like husband is not abusive but loves his wife; obedience to a Christ-like husband does not involve submission to domestic violence; marriage constitutes mutual reverence.

    Most folk, however, as much as we might aspire to high ideals, such as “permanent and lifelong” (Thesis 9) union reflecting Christ’s relationship with the Church (Thesis 4), fall short. Any one person is complicated, and two people together long-term, against the backdrop of life, with its invariable serpentines and complexities, are yet more complicated still. Many of the ideals expressed by Jesus – parting with all our wealth (Matthew 19:21), loving our enemies (Matthew 5:43-48) – are noble and wonderful but nigh to impossible to live out. This pertains to ideals of marriage, too. How many among us who are married have never committed adultery, if we include there adultery in thought or in fantasy (Matthew 5:27-29)? Indeed, existing research strongly suggests that Christian marriages are as likely to end in divorce or to feature domestic violence and abuse as marriages in the general, non-Christian population: high ideals or norms do not transpire reliably in high (or even higher) conduct. Frank acknowledgement that the report idealises Christian marriage would be welcome.

    1. Fourth: several of the theses allude to the early chapters of Genesis – most notably, Thesis 1, with its reference to one man, one woman, and one flesh, but also Thesis 2, with its reference to marriage being a “gift in creation,” and (to a lesser extent) Theses 5 and 6, which refer to children (cf. Genesis 1:28) and sexual intimacy (cf. Genesis 2:24). The report asserts that what is prescribed is “specifically exclusive, monogamous marriage that was given in creation, such that other forms of marriage – several of which are contained in the Old Testament – are a falling short of or twisting of God’s original design and good gift” (p.6).[5]

    I, for one, find it rather extraordinary and bizarre that the early Genesis chapters are used so adamantly to justify heterosexual, monogamous, sexually exclusive marriage to the exclusion of all other kinds of marriage.[6] In the end, this – albeit wonderful – text is clearly a myth, complete with a talking snake and magical trees, where a human is made from dust and a woman, after all the animals, from a rib. It is a story, moreover, that departs rather sharply from the creation story that immediately precedes it (where humans are created together, after the animals). The story of Adam and Eve is the one that, more than any other biblical text, is used to drive home what marriage is and should be.

    The report, furthermore, firmly lays claim to this story. On the one hand, there is mention that the Church of England “has always recognised the marriages not only of Christian believers but of everyone,” yet on the other, it states that “Christians, however, by virtue of divine revelation, see in the same institution of marriage more than non-Christians see: most especially the ‘one flesh’ union and the sacramental signification of Christ’s relationship with his Church” (p.7). The Jewish text from the Hebrew Bible is firmly folded into a doctrine that makes Christian marriage superior (“more than”). This teeters on the brink of supersessionism. Above all, however, the mythological text is over-invested with profundity.

    Meanwhile, other texts of the Hebrew Bible – including legal texts prescribing that raped women marry their rapists (Deuteronomy 22:28-29), or the aforementioned texts linking violence and marriage, are not mentioned much. Maybe they are simply part of the change that has been accepted? Still, more honesty about how ideology drives the selection of biblical texts that construct the marriage ideal would be desirable.

    1. Now, we all hold ideologies; moreover, interpreting the Bible in ways that speak to life and how to live it will almost invariably (consciously or unconsciously) involve ideologically-motivated selection of texts. It is entirely possible to select biblical texts that provide and emphasise quite different recommendations for marriage than those of the report’s nine theses. It is entirely possible to construct recommendations that designate the married state inferior to the single and celibate state, or that permit divorce, same-sex marriage, polyamory, or unions without children – be this by choice, or not.[7] The report mentions that the State’s definition of marriage (subsequent to marriage equality of 2014) is distinct from the definition of marriage of the Church of England. The first thesis emphasises that in the Church of England marriage is between one man and one woman. Again, their becoming “one flesh” is stressed. It is acknowledged that this one-flesh-ness can be understood “sexually, socially, and even in some sense spiritually or mystically” (p.5). Yet even if two people of the same sex join sexually, socially, spiritually and mystically, this cannot, apparently, be a marriage, or God’s gift (Thesis 2), or “an honourable estate” (Thesis 3), or a sign of Christ’s relationship with the Church (Thesis 4), or “proper” sexual intimacy (Thesis 6).

    Exactly why this might be remains unclear to me. Friendship, even intimate friendship, in the Bible can be between members of the same sex – indeed, the bond between David and Jonathan, or the devotion of Ruth to Naomi, where there are also words of promise (1 Samuel 20:42; Ruth 1:16-17; cf. Thesis 9), stand out, as does the love of Jesus for his disciple (possibly, John the son of Zebedee). Indeed, these descriptions are far more suggestive of friendship than the account of Adam and Eve (or any other man and woman of the Bible, for that matter). The report refers to friendship as “the bedrock” (p.9) of marriage. Why can’t a relationship between persons of the same sex that is one of friendship, loving, intimate, consenting, and bonded by words of promise, ever be a marriage, while Adam and Eve are paradigms of marriage even though notions of friendship or consent are not exactly explicit? There is some consideration of this in the report, some mention of narrowing the “conceptual distance” between different- and same-sex unions (p.13) but this is not reflected in the nine theses. It is, ultimately, nebulous why there is a requirement for marriage to consist of one man and one woman only.

    1. The report acknowledges both change with regard to marriage, and some degree of “ambiguity and flexibility” (p.11). It says that doctrine can “develop or change” (p.2); that (albeit modest) changes have been made to the report (p.4), and that (much more significantly) there has been “pastoral accommodation” to permit divorce and remarriage in some cases (p.10), including on account of “differing interpretations” of biblical texts (p.11). There is also mention of change towards “a more egalitarian understanding” (p.12), and to permit contraception so that a married couple can “in good conscience” delay conception by artificial means (p.13). Moreover, the report asserts a shift in emphasis towards regarding sex in marriage less in terms of preventing fornication and more in terms of mutual enjoyment (p.16). It strikes me as right and good that changes and accommodation are made as knowledge (e.g. about safe forms of contraception) is gained; it strikes me as right and good to promote egalitarian marriage and to resist unfair rigidity (e.g. concerning divorce in situations where a relationship has broken down or is damaging to one or both partners).

    Moreover, there is precedent for changing doctrine within the Bible – not only in terms of how Jesus interprets Hebrew Bible doctrine but also internal to the Hebrew Bible. Hence, in the Ten Commandments, God promises to visit the guilt of parents on their children and subsequent generations (Exodus 20:5) but in both the books of Jeremiah (31:29-30) and Ezekiel (18:2-20) there is a retraction of this, stating that people will be responsible for their own sin, not for another’s. This strikes me as a progressive change within the Bible.

    Now, just as there now exists safe contraception, and just as there is more understanding and accommodation regarding divorce (which is condemned in some biblical passages), so understanding of gender and sexuality has been transformed, particularly in recent decades. There is much fuller understanding of gender and sex as being a spectrum rather than a binary and of human sexuality as much more complex than straightforwardly heterosexual, either by “natural order” (p.7) or divine design.[8] Why, if there is understanding that some humans are emotionally, psychologically, sexually, and spiritually fulfilled loving someone of the same sex, can same-sex marriage not be among the changes?

    1. Let me develop this point further. The report states firmly that “The Church of England has always believed and taught that sex is for marriage, and marriage is for sex” (p.9). Denying same-sex loving Christians a same-sex marriage, would also then deny them sex.

    This, of course, is the crux, the point of greatest division, and it is around this that much of the report circles. Same-sex marriage and homosexuality have drawn what journalist Mark Gevisser evocatively calls a dividing “pink line” – in multiple religious traditions, in marriage and sexuality debates, right around the globe. Indeed, the Bible could legitimate both same-sex inclusion and non-binary gender – because it is a dextrous text. Hence, creation of “male and female” could refer not to either/or but to male, female and everything in between – just as “old and young” and “great and small” can refer to a spectrum of ages or statures. Queer interpretations indeed offer a myriad of inclusive readings, which celebrate eunuchs as genderqueer, and the same-sex love of David and Jonathan, the Centurion and his servant, Ruth and Naomi.

    And openness to change need not mean “anything goes.” Of course, there are bounds – one such bound must be an insistence on informed consent for sex and for marriage, for instance. For this reason, I have been among those who welcomed a recent change in UK marriage law, which raised the age for marriage to at least 18 years in every case – in recognition of the magnified scope for exploitation and compromised consent of someone even younger marrying or entering civil partnership, even with parental consent.[9] Of course, ongoing discussion, including in the light of fuller understanding and growing knowledge, is important. But the reasons for resisting change in the face of new knowledge and understanding (e.g. knowledge about the nuances of human gender and sexuality) should be strongly interrogated, lest they rely on discrimination or prejudice. After all, there are biblical texts that refer to the “holy seed” and which express strong objection to marriage between different people groups (Ezra 9:1-4; Nehemiah 13:23-27), yet prohibition of miscegenation is nowadays considered straight-out racist (and in the USA, unconstitutional). Is resistance to same-sex marriage not straight-out homophobic? And if not, why not?

    1. Ultimately, the report concludes very little. It speaks (at length) of whether the “envelope” of the Church can or should be enlarged, or whether more inclusion would tear up a “God-given institution” (p.16). This is how the report ends. The report expounds and proffers possibilities for change and inclusion – and then retracts and dashes them.
    2. This blog is called “Via Media,” “the middle road,” referring to a path between extremes. Perhaps my alternative theses seem too strident, too extreme, for a middle road. My reply would be that right now, when very many minoritized groups, including queer and same-sex loving members of the human family, are ever more vulnerable in a world where sinister political forces are emboldening the weaponization of biblical texts while efforts to advance equity, diversity and inclusion are under attack, those of us who can speak out and can (or could) marry in the Church of England, have to speak out for those who cannot.

     

    Professor Stiebert has now published a further piece on the response to this blog post, on https://shilohproject.blog/a-response-to-a-response-to-a-response-yep-its-marriage-again/ 

    [Many aspects alluded to in this piece are developed more fully in Saima Afzal and Johanna Stiebert, Marriage, Bible, Violence: Intersections and Impacts (Routledge, 2024)]

    [1] All my references to theses and pages pertain to the report.

    [2]  In Numbers 31 men take little girls (v.18) in a war depicted as divinely sanctioned (31:1-3). Surely such sexual enslavement marriage is not what Thesis 2 has in mind when referring to marriage as “God’s gift.”

    [3] In Hebrew, there is one word for woman/wife and for man/husband. Context and/or translators’ choices determine which English word is used.

    [4] Numbers 5, while one of the longest legal texts about a scenario in a marriage and how it ought to be resolved, rarely features in discussions of marriage in the Bible. I could not find reference to the passage in either the compendium or the report. To be fair, the sources cited favour Christian texts, which is fair enough. Genesis 1-3 features very prominently in the compendium in particular.

    [5] Why these other forms of marriage fall short, or why later Hebrew Bible narratives tend not to make any such deficiency explicit, is not clarified in the report.

    [6] The story of Adam and Eve is also used to condemn homosexuality, non-binary gender, transgender, polygamy, polyamory, and divorce. Preoccupation with the story and with its reference to “one flesh” is already in evidence in the New Testament (e.g. Mark 10:8; Ephesians 5:31).

    [7] The report makes clear that children are not required for marriage to be valid or meaningful. It explains that marriage is the proper context for raising children, not that raising children is the purpose of marriage (p.13).

    [8] The report refers to “men and women being ‘diverse in their emotional, mental and spiritual lives, their way of experiencing and responding to reality’” – which difference it believes is instantiated in marriage to the benefit of society. It is the core argument made in the submission to the government consultation on equal marriage in 2014: “The uniqueness of marriage – and a further aspect of its virtuous nature – is that it embodies the underlying, objective, distinctiveness of men and women” (p.14). This emphasises a binary distinction that can be and has been plausibly questioned – as is acknowledged in the report, too (p.15).

    [9] This is in reference to the UK Marriage and Civil Partnership (Minimum Age) Act 2022.

  • Behold the Men: Identifying Risks, Reconsidering Relationships

    by Rachel Starr, Director of Studies at the Queen’s Foundation for Ecumenical Theological Education, Birmingham

    Since Behold the Men was published in January, a lot of people have commented on its relevance to the present moment. Conversations about how churches interpret, encourage, even prescribe, certain models of masculinities have long been needed, but often not given the necessary attention. Today’s global realities have brought into sharper focus the problematic intersections of white power, patriarchy, colonialism and certain forms of Christianity. Yet churches are still in denial about the necessary theological work they need to do in relation to abuse, inequality and injustice.

    In an article from 2019 addressing clerical abuse in the Roman Catholic Church, Susan A. Ross observes that ‘the insights that feminist theology offers to this crisis have not received the kind of attention they deserve’ and seeks to demonstrate both that ‘many (although not all) of the issues in clergy sexual abuse are theologically grounded’ and also that ‘feminist insights can contribute to a transformed church in which ?patriarchy and clericalism no longer dominate, where there is a healthy and holistic theology of sexuality, and ?where the voices of women and the laity are truly heard’ (Ross 2019, p. 633).?

    When viewed in relation to the ongoing safeguarding crisis within many churches, the risks inherent within dominant models of masculinity are clear to see.

    Within many such models, men are considered solitary, independent figures. They are expected to be both self-centred and self-reliant rather than understanding themselves in relation to a wider community. Men are encouraged to be the answer rather than to ask questions or listen to other people’s responses. They are called on to be strong, to ignore or decry their own and others’ vulnerabilities. Men are expected to lead rather than follow, receive instruction or advice. Men in leadership face pressure to be the charismatic leader, the hero, the saviour. As I have written elsewhere, the hero is best avoided.

    As part of their formation within such dominant models of masculinity, men are asked to deny or overcome emotions – framed as signs of weakness – and focus on the rational mind. They are kept at a distance from the realities of their own – and especially others’ – bodies. In different ways, and in a variety of settings, men are seen as creators and consumers, rather than those tasked with caring or cleaning up. This can result in a lack of attentiveness to the impact of actions or decisions.

    A model of masculinity found in some men’s spirituality movements is that of the ‘wild man’. While this model is less prevalent in British churches, it is present in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. This is a model focused on individual spiritual needs, sometimes to be pursued with aggression. It invites risk-taking rather than rule-following. Another model present in some Christian traditions is the successful man, whose presence is sought and whose failings are overlooked. A third model explored in Behold the Men is the family man, often found within a ‘culture of niceness’ which can mask power and stifle challenge. All three of these models – and others beside – need to be reconsidered if churches are to become places of wellbeing for all.

    Behold the Men offers some suggestions as to how churches might begin conversations around what it might mean to be a man of faith.

    1. Beginning with bodies

    ‘In our earliest conversations about the book, we talked about the importance of the body. While we cover shared ground with some systematic theology texts, we made a conscious decision to begin not with God but with human bodies, specifically, men’s bodies. Each chapter places bodies central to the discussion: naked, earthed, displaced, broken, of and in Christ, healing, resistant, receptive, created and connected’ (Beckford and Starr 2015, p. 4).

    We hope the book will help readers to listen to their own bodies and trust the insights offered: but not to be limited by their own embodied experiences. As Brazilian feminist theologian Ivone Gebara writes, ‘I have had … to listen with my whole body to what my particular body had not experienced concretely’ (Gebara 1995, p. 129).

    1. An ongoing conversation

    Behold the Men brings together more than a dozen contributors, who offer insights from a range of contexts, identities and theological traditions. The aim of the book is not to propel the reader towards a clear conclusion. Instead, it invites readers to listen carefully to different experiences, gain fresh insight and be encouraged to find new ways forward. It is not the first book exploring masculinities within Christianity, and we hope it will not be the last.

    1. ‘We Cannot Walk Alone’

    We chose to use Birmingham artist Eddy Aigbe’s painting, ‘We Cannot Walk Alone,’ for the book cover. Originally commissioned by Celebrating Sanctuary for Refugee Week in 2021, the image seeks to convey many different people coming together to shape more inclusive, just communities. In the work of justice, the wisdom, compassion and commitment of many is needed. We hope our book will be a resource for the journey. Certainly, there is much distance for our churches to travel if they are to be places where all bodies are welcomed, respected and honoured. Challenging violent and limiting models of masculinity within churches, exploring more inclusive and healthy ways of being men of faith, is long overdue.

  • Share and Share Alike? Living in Love and Faith and Funding the Church of England

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

    (picture credit: BBC/Yourkevich)

    In her review of Diarmaid MacCulloch’s Lower than the Angels in the London Review of Books for 6 March, Lucy Wooding observed that, ‘Few things expose the potential for illogicality, hypocrisy and cruelty within the Christian tradition more clearly than its attitude to sex.’ Put sex and money together, and you’re into a whole new league; and that’s where some dioceses already are.

    The Church of England operates with a model of giving which, depending on your diocese, is called ‘parish share’, ‘parish offer’ or ‘common fund’. It’s not the most exciting topic – although if you’ve been to a meeting of deanery treasurers you’ll have seen the passions it can arouse – but it’s essential to keeping the show on the road. The money that comes in pays the costs of clergy but also the costs of running the diocese, and of training future clergy. My own diocese, Oxford, explains it here. Parish share works differently in different dioceses, but the principle is simple: there is a formula usually based on a church’s electoral roll and weekly attendance, taking into account factors such as being in a poorer area, and this is used to divide up the overall cost. In my diocese, this is then sent to different deaneries, and they use their knowledge of the local situation to pass those costs on to individual parishes. By paying parish share, we are ensuring that the work of the church reaches into every community. We are supporting each other.

    Only that’s no longer the case. For the last few years some churches have decided that they don’t want to fund the wider Church of England in their diocese – they only want to fund churches with whom they agree. Quite who makes this decision is not always clear, and I shall return to that. There are also different situations here; some such churches simply withhold part of their parish share, others funnel it through a further body on the understanding that their money won’t go to the wrong sort of church.

    Wrong sort of church? This is exclusively about one issue; yes, the one which has taken over pretty well every debate at General Synod… the Prayers of Love and Faith, commended for use in existing services with same-sex couples wanting to be blessed in their civil relationship.

    Some parishes have signed up to something called the Ephesian Fund. Resisting charges of ‘blackmailing the dioceses’ it says it is actually making it possible for those who are unhappy to pay their parish share, and recasts that ‘wrong sort of church’ view by saying that it is ‘fuelling orthodox ministry’. Last September the stated aim was to see 500 churches paying their parish share through this fund. Its patrons are CEEC/New Wine/Living Out people (with a GAFCON UK person among their trustees) and the aim is that the money that may have funded ‘sin’ – which is what same-sex faithful relationships are classified as being, in the conservative evangelical world – can instead be diverted to help only ‘local churches that are committed to biblical faith and have signed up to the Ephesian Fund basis of faith.’ That’s the same as the CEEC basis of faith, including ‘We acknowledge God’s creation of humankind as male and female and the unchangeable standard of Christian marriage between one man and one woman as the proper place for sexual intimacy and the basis of the family.’ CEEC put out a podcast on the role of the Ephesian Fund last October, on how ‘the direction of travel’ with LLF had made some people nervous about paying their parish share.

    It’s a bit odd, when parish share isn’t exactly being used to fund ‘sin’; a same-sex couple asking for the Prayers of Love and Faith doesn’t get a cheque. Behind the slogan of wanting to be sure your money is being used for ‘gospel purposes’, the established system of poorer parishes being subsidised by wealthier parishes is being transformed into helping only our mates. This hasn’t happened with, for example, second marriages for divorced people, or the ordination of women as priests. As far as I know, no church refuses to pay its parish share because the money may support another church in the diocese where there is a woman incumbent.

    This is made more complicated when some dioceses have a parallel scheme, like the Oxford Good Stewards Trust, set up in 2021, not only before the Church of England Evangelical Council came up with the Ephesian Fund idea, but also before the Living in Love and Faith process had got as far as offering prayers to use with same-sex couples. OGST has the same statement of faith as CEEC and the Ephesian Fund. It is entirely open about how it exists ‘to enable parishes to make their contribution to Diocesan work and ministry collectively with like-minded churches rather than directly with the Diocese or through their own Deanery’. ‘Like-minded churches’: our mates. While a vicar may have a ‘mind’, I am not sure that most churches do; they contain people with different views on all topics, and personally I think that’s healthy. If a church uses OGST, some, or all, of the parish share goes to the Trust and then they send it in to the Diocese, I assume with strings attached. I have no idea how that works; is there a list of ‘like-minded churches’? OGST also takes donations from individuals – well, why wouldn’t they? – and has a list of projects to which you can donate. These are almost all about funding an extra minister in a church – I can think of plenty of churches who would love one of those – although one of the projects is rather different, as it includes funding a man to work at a theological college ‘with a distinctive focus on promoting and resourcing the use of biblical Greek in Christian ministry’.

    The Charity Commission gives the total income for the OGST in the year ended 31 December 2023 as £448,099. Those levels of money sound serious, although in the world of CofE finance they are not so significant (Oxford diocese receives over £19,000,000 from parish share).

    It’s quite hard to understand what is happening here, other than some sabre-rattling. The thing about a common fund is that it’s common – it’s not that some five-pound notes are labelled as having come from a particular church within your diocese. It’s just one pot.

    Making this even more muddled is the point that some parishes are not diverting what would have gone to parish share into either a local or national scheme that targets only the right kind of churches; instead, some parishes are not paying their parish share in full. This has consequences. If you don’t pay in full, your parish ceases to be eligible for various discretionary diocesan funds, so this strategy could hurt you more than anyone else, but I suppose that would count as a fair sacrifice to make in order to uphold your principles. There are of course also parishes which can’t pay their share in full, because they just don’t have the money. In some deaneries, other churches are encouraged to meet that shortfall locally so that the total for the deanery as a whole can be reached – which can also have the result that the deanery is eligible for an early payment discount. Win-win: we’ve done this in my deanery. But would other churches be willing to pay more to compensate for one in the deanery that has the money but refuses to play ball? I somehow doubt it.

    What does this look like in action? Let’s turn to a specific example. At the March meeting of Oxford’s Diocesan Synod I put this question in to the Chair of the Diocesan Board of Finance:

    How many churches in the diocese are placing limitations on how their parish share contributions can be used, by withholding parish share, donating through the Ephesian Fund or similar third party, or through a special arrangement with the diocese, such that their contributions cannot be used to support all churches and clergy in the diocese? How much money is affected by these arrangements?

    His response was: There are some questions of interpretation in the interests of answering this question precisely but our best estimate would be that 4 parishes in 2024 placed limitations on how their parish share contributions could be used. For these four parishes the total allocation was £689,536, and the amount actually paid was £498,198, leaving a shortfall of £191,339. In 2025 the number of churches has already risen to 5, with a shortfall expected to be around £300,000. The number of parishes paying part or all of their parish share through the Ephesian Fund or Oxford Good Stewards Trust is currently 11.

    In responses to supplementaries, the Chair clarified that uncertainty over how many parishes are opting out of the usual way of paying parish share, or not paying at all, is one reason why the diocese can’t forecast how much will be needed from parishes next year. I note from the Oxford Diocese accounts that the 2023 future plans included ‘Manage the impacts of Living in Love and Faith.’ In those same accounts, the risks identified include ‘Significant under payment of Parish Share’. For 2023 the parish share receipts of £19,060,000 represented 94.5% of the total apportioned (2022: 95.2%). Some of those not paying in full, as I’ve said, were simply unable to raise the money.

    Looking at the detailed breakdowns of parish share allocation and payment for each deanery in my diocese, I note that, for 2024, there’s a parish where only 74.5% of the allocated share was received. That is Great Chesham, mentioned in the supplementaries to my question. They were supposed to have paid £238,811. What has happened there is interesting, and although it has been mentioned in the local and national press it deserves to be more widely known, not least because of the questions of process it raises. So, based on some of the documents that are in the public domain, here goes…

    Great Chesham covers seven churches. On 10 April 2023 the Guardian reported that ‘The PCC voted last month in favour of withholding the [parish share] payment but must rerun the process after failing to comply with church rules.’ They don’t specify which rules, but that doesn’t sound good. The minutes for the 30 April 2023 ADCM (Annual District Church Meeting) of St Mary’s with St John’s Bellingdon, chaired by Revd Edward Bowes-Smith, included a finance report with the information that the DCC and PCC were ‘considering pausing the Parish Share to the Diocese’. The impression was given that there would be a pause until July at which point the money ‘can be paid over depending on what the Review decides’. This Review Group acknowledged that there were ‘different views about the Parish share’. It was not clear whether the 280 members of the electoral roll had been consulted. A question raised at the ADCM was ‘How can we still be giving monthly without everyone being notified of this?’ The response was that the monthly donations were being ring fenced while the Review Group was meeting. The minutes do not record how this was being done.

    After that ADCM, a story published by The Christian Institute on ‘CofE’s leadership has abandoned ‘the true Gospel of Jesus Christ’ by blessing same-sex partners’ made reference to Great Chesham’s PCC being about to vote to pause its parish share payments and quoted Bowes-Smith alongside John Dunnett of the Church of England Evangelical Council.

    In the following month, on 17 May, the APCM (Annual Parochial Church Meeting) of the parish of Great Chesham was held, also chaired by Bowes-Smith, as the Rector of the whole group of churches. 55 parishioners attended. It doesn’t look like the parish share pause was a specific agenda item; the minutes make no mention of it until the item on ‘Rector’s Thoughts’. Here, at last, there is specific mention of the elephant in the room, described as ‘the Church of England’s potential change in doctrine with the proposal to introduce Same Sex Blessings’. The parish clergy had said they would not conduct these blessings and ‘The PCC are happy to support the Clergy in exercising their conscience’. That, of course, is fine; it has been clear from the beginning of this process that no clergyperson has to use the prayers if they are not happy to do so. But how does the PCC pausing parish share ‘support’ clergy consciences? The minutes do not explain this, and instead the Rector mentioned the issues around how the parish share was divided between the Districts.

    It’s clear from the minutes that those present were well aware that there was more to this than how parish share is divided between churches, and that some took advantage of the opportunity to ask questions following the ‘Rector’s Thoughts’. Someone said that it was ‘inappropriate’ to have decided to pause paying parish share before the approval of the minutes of the 22 March PCC meeting at which a paper had been circulated with the interesting title ‘Supporting our Clergy and Reflecting Together on the Implications of February’s General Synod’s Motion on Same Sex Blessings: Clergy, Wardens and Treasurer’s Note’. I assume that ‘inappropriate’ action illuminates the claim of failure to follow ‘church rules’. Another person raised the point that PCC minutes were not accessible at the same time to all PCC members, meaning some knew about ‘the e-mail vote to pause the Parish Share while others didn’t’.

    An e-mail vote? Perfectly valid between PCC meetings, but conveniently this protects those who don’t want others to see how they are voting. And what were the figures in this vote? We don’t know. There are questions raised by this voting which apply more widely; returning to the Ephesian Fund, the stories they share on their website involve a PCC deciding to pay parish share to the Fund after consulting the congregation, and a PCC deciding and then informing the congregation. Whose church is it? Where do the PCC, the Annual Meeting, the electoral roll and the congregation as a whole fit in?

    Someone else at the Great Chesham APCM offered the thought that ‘Whilst it is acceptable for Clergy not to undertake Same Sex Marriage Blessings this should not result in Parish Share payments being withheld and non-engagement with the Bishop.’ So, those present were certainly not unanimous: and I couldn’t have put this point better myself.

    The specific view of one of the seven churches, Emmanuel, was also presented at that APCM: that ‘In 1 Cor 6: 9 -10 Paul teaches about those who will not inherit the kingdom of God 6 (unrepentant sin); it is difficult to endorse a Church teaching which is endangering people’s eternal fate’, so we should not ‘partner’ with those who are doing this. Their vicar Edward Millais announced that ‘if it became necessary, [he would] be willing to stop his salary and move from his house’. Emmanuel is linked to CEEC and also to ReNew. ReNew operates under the 2008 Jerusalem Declaration with these relevant points: ‘matrimony is the lifelong union between one man and one woman, and sexual relations outside that context are sinful in God’s eyes’ and adds that no ‘eldership/oversight’ roles are possible for women. ReNew writes of ‘a readiness to stand their ground in the face of opposition’. As I write this, Emmanuel are currently advertising for a ministry trainee, their ad clarifying not just that the applicant needs to be an evangelical, but that they must be in ‘wholehearted agreement with our Christian ethos, doctrines and beliefs which include the Church of England Evangelical Council’s Declaration of Faith and Additional Declarations, as well as the PCC’s 2015 resolution affirming a traditional biblical understanding of marriage (Hebrews 13:4,7)’. Emmanuel does not put DCC minutes on the website, and nor does the wider group of Great Chesham publish its PCC minutes, so the impetus for, and content of, this resolution must remain unclear.

    Also represented in the response of those present to the ‘Rector’s Thoughts’ was the deanery perspective – that Great Chesham withholding money would cause other churches in the deanery to suffer. Indeed. One of those present proposed a motion that the PCC should ‘rescind its vote to pause payment of the Parish Share until the work of the Finance Review Group is completed in July’. This was defeated: 20 voted for the motion, 45 against with 6 abstentions (if there were only 55 parishioners and the rector present, this doesn’t add up, so I assume that 55 excluded the various clergy?).

    So what happened in that review work and what decision was made in July? I don’t know. But on the accounts for 2023 the treasurer stated that ‘We overcame the great uncertainty surrounding our relations with the Diocese on our Parish Share’ meaning that ‘We are well resourced financially to weather any continued uncertainty surrounding the Church of England’.

    Well, that’s lovely for Great Chesham. But the shortfall has to be made up by other parishes, and it may be rather less lovely for them.

    Those churches who want to stay pure by not funding ‘sinful’ churches – defining ‘sinful’ purely in terms of how they treat those in same-sex relationships – seem to be content to serve on local and national church bodies alongside the members of such churches; to have their vicarages maintained and their clergy’s pensions paid with money which has come from such churches; and to receive funding from the national church without asking questions about its origins. Like some in their congregations, I would simply acknowledge that there is a diversity of belief and practice in the Church of England, on this and on much else, and that the current situation – nobody has to use the Prayers of Love and Faith unless they want to do so – already provides enough protection for consciences.

     

  • On Being Conservative

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

    Labels are a dangerous thing. We spend a lot of time worrying about them – they’re a marker of identity, both our own and others’, and we fling them around rather haphazardly, often to our peril. Identity itself is always a contested thing – we like to own our own, yet we are also never short of labelling others to suit our own purposes. It’s a great way for us to confirm our prejudices – we are X, and they are Y – X is good, Y is bad, and by constantly reinforcing this, through the power of language, we can ensure that our virtue, and their lack of it, is writ large. Some words take on that meaning within our enclosed groups – think Republican or Democrat in the US – and some are rather more obviously imbued with a meaning specifically derived from how a group has decided to construct its identity. Chief amongst these, in the church and the world, must be the words liberal and conservative – and depending on one’s particular point of view, each of these might be seen as ‘good’ or ‘bad’.

    They’re not the worst labels out there, of course. In the church, we hear silly monikers like ‘revisionist’ or ‘orthodox’ thrown around as though they are not politically loaded weapons, and I cannot be the only one who is so bored of hearing them that each time I do I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry. The use of ‘orthodox’ (and its never-spoken-but-obviously-meant opposite number, heterodox) to describe one’s position on sexuality is so ludicrous that it’s not worth spending any time worrying over, however ‘winsome’ its proponents might think it is, and frankly it’s rather embarrassing that, in this anniversary year of Nicaea, it continues to be used even by some bishops. Get a grip – not least of history and doctrine – folks. Rather than worrying about those kind of insult-based identity markers, though, it is worth thinking a little more carefully about the ones we probably use the most – liberal, and conservative. Are they fit for purpose?

    The word ‘liberal’ has an interesting history, not least depending on whether there is a capital L involved or not. That’s a history found within and without the church, and its meaning is far more complex than ‘in favour of LGBTQIA affirmation’ might suggest. In many ways, though, liberal is used in the church more as a term of opposition than as a term of distinctive identity in its own right – to be ‘liberal’ is to not be conservative. Being ‘liberal’ on women’s ministry, being a ‘liberal Catholic’, being a ‘liberal’ on matters of same-sex and gender relationships, is ultimately making it clear what you are not, which is – I would suggest – that one is not steeped in unquestioned cis-heteronormative patriarchal understandings of the Gospel which are entirely unfit for purpose. So, in a sense, whilst I’m quite happy to be called liberal in some ways, I’m not sure that I entirely fit the bill if that term is used in its fullest sense, and nor do I think its use as a catch-all for all things is helpful (for example, it seems to surprise some people that I might be able to hold both ‘liberal’ and ‘conservative’ views on different things, and that there is not a single shopping list of liberal causes to which we all sign up).

    But seeing ‘liberal’ as a term of opposition brings us to the much more interesting word: ‘conservative’. Its use is manifold, and it’s often worn as a badge of pride. On occasion I would like nothing less than to be known as ‘conservative’. Yet I think it is well overdue a revisit, because by allowing particular groups to own it, we allow them to set the narrative of our ecclesial conversations and, in doing so, to determine what it is that ought to be conserved. Conserving things – and choosing which things take the primacy in being conserved – is by no means as simple as is often made out. That is absolutely the case within the church. Our failure to name that – and to ask precisely what and why something deserves to be conserved – is very much at the root of many of our current problems. I think it’s about time we did something about that.

    At the moment, those things which reward you with the name ‘conservative’ appear, rather conveniently, to fit into the unthinking, unflinching, culture-infused patriarchal bucket that I described earlier. No women in ordained ministry; no gays in dog collars; no this, and no that. Yet many in this ‘conservative’ camp seem entirely happy to jettison much else that we might think needs to be conserved. The Eucharist becomes ‘inherited’ worship, and can be jettisoned at will. The established nature of the Church of England no longer matters, and can be ignored. The concept of the creeds being the foundation of orthodoxy is terribly old hat. The idea of our church being primarily the chaplain to the nation, its role not as purity cult but as local, embedded community of faith, can all be thrown away in the name of some fatuous idea of doctrinal unity relating to the gays. Catholic order – not least catholic, diocesan episcopacy: binned. Baptism of infants: not too sure about that. ‘Those forms of worship authorised or allowed by canon’: not on your nelly. Any basic semblance of being in historical continuity with the messy reality of the church in this land: no need.

    I’ve spent a fair bit of time recently talking to people outside the Synodical bubble about the future of the Church of England – people who think us being there is important, even if they might not see themselves as terribly involved in the political struggles of the church. One thing that has really surprised but also encouraged me is that the church that they – almost universally – want to see is the church that has been gifted to us down the ages. They don’t actually want pop-concert-church, or whatever faddy nonsense is the most recent recipient of the magical money pot that will surely solve all our problems. They really, really don’t want a church that is willing to bin everything it has been gifted. And they really do want a church that looks like the Church of England which they imagine might still have a role to play as an established church – one whose parishes are embedded in their communities, one where there is good, theologically informed, preaching, one where the forms of service are recognisably ‘church’, one where the poorest and the most vulnerable are put front and centre, one where the church can be a blessing to everyone in the community rather than to a select few, one which appears to have its head screwed on and isn’t endlessly reactionary, one that is – frankly – just bog standard Church of England.

    It seems to me that that this is all actually rather conservative. It’s conservative, because it conserves something of the essence of the Church of England that the neo-puritans currently assaulting our church structures and its very nature are trying to do away with in the name of ‘conservatism’. It isn’t going to be perfect, and there is going to need to be room for the messiness of church life that has characterised the Church of England since earliest times. But it is a thinking conservatism – a conservatism that asks first ‘what, why, how’, and then gets to work.

    So I’m going to own that ‘conservative’ title a little more from now on, because to the outside world, those of us denounced as ‘liberals’ by malcontents within General Synod are really the conservatives. We want the Church of England to continue as the established chaplain to the nation that it has been for centuries. We want the Church of England to simply be the Church of England. That will mean some changes – changes that will allow it to fulfil that role better into the future. It will mean interrogating our prejudices and asking how the Holy Spirit might be calling us to proclaim the faith afresh in this generation. Yet it is through doing that, and not holding onto the comfort blanket of conserved externalities, that we might conserve the essence of the great gift that is our church. The fight to do so is more than worth it.

  • When Will the Bishops Think Properly About Same-Sex Marriage?

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

    Amongst the papers presented to this February’s General Synod by the Bishop of Europe on the 13th February are two which include significant amounts of theological reflection on the Church’s understanding of marriage, presented as contributions to the ongoing work of Living in Love & Faith. The first is contained in the long GSMisc1406 paper on many different doctrinal aspects, including an exhaustive summary of many different texts and documents on marriage; unsurprisingly, these show a certain harmony as they are related to one another, and there is limited acknowledgement of the changing social context of marriage to which they applied, or the way in which the mid-20th century texts emerge from a situation of impassioned but ultimately unsuccessful resistance to the acceptance of divorce and remarriage. More concerning, however, is the shorter GSMisc1407 from the seven members of the Episcopal Reference Group, as this is presented as their provisional advice to the House of Bishops and Synod on the doctrinal questions.

    GSMisc1407 is formed of a presentation of ‘Nine Theses’ about the nature of marriage which are asserted to have been held consistently through Anglican history, followed by reflections on areas where specific theses have shifted or been viewed differently over time. It then concludes with a reflection that the ‘envelope’ of marriage has been seen as more or less expansive, and so inviting the bishops to consider whether the envelope is large enough to include same-sex couples, or whether some particular decision could make it so. Naturally, all of us, bishops or not, are likely to line up fairly predictably on either side of whether or not the envelope is, or should be, large enough, or whether that is not possible.

    I wish to respond rather more precisely to one area of the Nine Theses (though there are others which might well be questioned). This is the assertion about the nature of marriage as seen by the Church and in law which appear under Thesis 2: Marriage is God’s gift in creation (pp.6-8). I will leave Adam & Eve to others – my concern is with the claim of the unity of marriage whether contracted in church or civilly – and the way in which this appears to be either a careless or wilful sidestepping of the questions raised on p.7 of GS2289 (the original LLF paper tabled at Synod in February 2023). The starting point is the assumption, which as far as I am aware no-one is challenging, that opposite-sex couples who are legally married are regarded by the Church as married, whether or not that marriage was contracted in a church or civil setting.

    However, the ERG move on to the question of whether or not this fact was changed by the introduction of same-sex marriage in 2014, to which they respond “it did not, however, change the wording or meaning of the civil rite as used by any given man and woman.” There is no reference provided for this assertion. There cannot be, because it is false. The reality in the law of England (though not the Canons of the Church of England, to be sure) is that the meaning of all marriages, including those contracted in churches, was changed by the 2013 Act. Every opposite-sex couple now marrying in England (or indeed the many other states that recognise same-sex marriage) is entering the same legally married state as all the same-sex couples married there. That civil status has various legal consequences, but the most important for the purposes of doctrine is that it is exclusive – being married to someone of the same sex is just as much an impediment to a further marriage (to someone of either sex) as opposite-sex marriage. As far as I am aware, no-one is claiming that the non-recognition of same-sex marriage by the Church allows same-sex spouses to freely commit bigamy by a church wedding to someone of the opposite sex.

    For some opposite-sex couples, of course, they may not feel this to be so – they may believe (whether out of Christian conviction or otherwise) that marriage is only possible between a man and a woman. But they do not make same-sex couples any less legally married. The situation is closely analogous to those committed to the absolute indissolubility of marriage who do not recognise those married after divorce as truly married – a legitimate viewpoint that makes no difference to the real status of those marriages. However, many couples, including practising members of the Church of England marrying in church, recognise with rejoicing that marriage is now open to same-sex couples, whom they are pleased to regard as equal with them in marriage. That the ERG have dismissed their legally correct understanding with a baseless assertion seems rather more ‘pastorally damaging’ than a distinction between civil and church marriage that no-one has been attempting to make.

    The real problem is that both the theological papers have deliberately set out to answer the wrong question, and so produced an answer that is not helping in the present context. By setting out to survey the history of official Church texts and documents on marriage, they have predictably enough delivered a synthesis of a reasonably coherent tradition, with at least some recognition of change over time. The question that needs to be asked, however, is what the Church believes theologically about same-sex marriage. This is not an abstract question about a hypothetical future, as the reports seem to muse. It is a live and urgent question about the thousands of same-sex married people in England now, including faithful church members, members of General Synod, prospective ordinands, clergy both serving and now excluded from ministry, and even the Archbishop of Canterbury’s Appointments Secretary. And it seems very possible that, following a consultation just begun, the Church in Wales may wish to commence same-sex marriages (a possibility provided for in the 2013 Act) and these may need banns to be called in England if couples live there, making it a very live issue indeed.

    It seems to me there are three possible responses that might be considered at the present time, and this at least gives me a chance to return to a more Anglican approach by commending the middle way:

    1. Same-sex marriage is equal in every way to marriage (the secular legal position) and so should be regarded as theologically true also, with same-sex marriages regarded as holy (sacramental, if that is your language) even if contracted civilly. Though I recognise that this will be the personal view of some same-sex spouses in the Church of England, and is the position for which Together in the Church of England would argue in the long term, it seems clear to me that given the present form of the Marriage service and the text of Canon B.30, it is not the current position of the Church of England.
    2. Same-sex marriage is an aberration, because the use of the word ‘marriage’ and the surrounding cultural assumptions make it clear that it exists to formalise same-sex sexual relationships, which are contrary to the teaching of Scripture. The logical response is to systematically warn such couples of their sin, and seek to exclude them from all positions of responsibility. Some in the Church articulate this view clearly, but the Bishops’ Pastoral Guidance of 2014 provided that same-sex married couples should be welcomed, a welcome now more clearly manifested by the authorisation of the Prayers of Love & Faith as a means to celebrate the love of same-sex couples.
    3. The Church does not recognise same-sex marriage as Holy Matrimony (as defined in Canon B.30) but does regard it as a good thing, and following the guidance on the PLF, takes no specific position on sexual activity in such marriages (noting that by definition it will not be the ‘sexual intercourse’ of a man and a woman traditionally recognised as the consummation of an opposite-sex marriage). This follows the distinction suggested in GS2289, though not fully explored there (and against the argument of GSMisc1407) to offer a possible way to accept and celebrate those in same-sex marriages, including clergy, whilst the discussion on theology of same-sex relationships continues.

     

     

  • Sports, Wellbeing – and the Theology of the Body

    by Helen King with Revd Pete Wheeler

    On Tuesday, Synod is hearing a presentation followed by this motion:

     ‘That this Synod recognise the missional potential for churches of sport and wellbeing through its ability to transform the lives of people and communities.’

    I (Helen) am among the members of Synod least qualified to speak in this debate, my own experience of sport including deliberately spraining my own ankle in order to get out of school hockey. When I see images of energetic lively young people on the website for the Church of England’s National Sport and Wellbeing Project, I feel the urge to go into a corner with a book. And yet… I want to speak in this debate.

    That’s because, at a recent deanery synod meeting, I heard about St Peter’s Aylesbury. We are not a pilot diocese for the Sport and Wellbeing Project, and St Peter’s is part of our diocese’s Estates Ministry Network. It has recently experienced revitalisation, which started from a ‘breakfast church’ initiative about five years ago.

    But before I share what they are doing, I want to say that I am concerned by the way that the supporting document for the debate, GS2381, focuses more on ‘sports ministry’ than on wellbeing, talking about numbers, and ‘success’, even (paragraph 1 of the executive summary) how to “find the sweet spot of how this could contribute to a growing and outward facing church”. In the research appendix that forms the second part of GS2381, we have “strategic aims” and “buy-in” and “sustainable business development” and “standardised systems and processes around data collection to refine Sports and Wellbeing Ministry models and approaches” and yet more language of “success’.

    For St Peter’s, their interest in wellbeing and exercise comes from a different direction. It is not about ‘sport’; it’s part of a focus on “health, hope and wholeness through fun, faith and fitness”. That’s backed up not through a focus on numbers, but through their theology of the body. The vicar, Pete Wheeler, told me that “In Estates ministry we commit to walk alongside people who often live very chaotic lives in areas of high deprivation. Their discipleship pathway is never a straight line – so, it can’t be about ‘numbers’! (And related to this I also long for the CofE to recognise that churches that are struggling financially are not necessarily ‘failing’!).” He went on, “Our theology of the body is not only as a sacred space where God chooses to meet with us, but as something that is fully endorsed by God in the bodily incarnation, death and resurrection of Jesus. It is, therefore, anti-gnostic – declaring that our own bodies, how we look after them, and what we do with them, really matter to God and to how we live a ‘whole’ and fulfilled life.”

    There are two projects which they run which express this theology most fully.

    Revelation Fitness runs free classes for all abilities, including chair-based classes. Pete writes “Each weekly class has a Bible theme (usually part of a series) which is developed and explored as the class exercise together – sometimes circuit, high-intensity interval training, exercise to music, etc. (For example, our current Series is on Colossians 3: 12-17 with each week focusing on a different attribute Paul mentions). It ends with a cooldown that includes a time of reflection and prayer. The music we use is combination of secular and worship tracks. After the class there is opportunity for Prayer Ministry and healthy smoothies.”

    Last month, they offered a 21-day sugar fast, with daily Bible passages and encouragements, to “clear your mind, boost your health, and reset your cravings – while drawing you closer to God. Let’s break free from sugar’s grip and focus on what truly satisfies.” Pete observes, “We reject the false economy presented by organisations such as ‘Slimming World’ who talk about treats as ‘sins’ (and subtly perpetuate the unhealthy focus on body shape and a cycle of failure to change habits). Rather, Revelation Fitness focuses on our call to be ‘fit for life’; to understand our bodies and how to fuel them well by using healthy, simple, practical and spiritual disciplines; learning to move, use and ‘tune’ our bodies into the daily rhythms of our life and calling.”

    As for the second project, that’s Revelation Run. Pete writes that “The missional energy for Revelation Fitness has also led to ‘Revelation Run’ which helps local people to learn how to run, with prayer as an integral part (and which usually starts with walking!). We have also developed links with a local group called ‘Recovery Runners’ – a community of people recovering from addiction, burnout, bereavement, mental health, etc., which we refer people to often … we have seen people’s lives changed through encounters with Jesus; freedom for those with addictions developing new healthy habits and disciplines; and those who find new hope as they discover their bodies are not the enemy.”

    I find what Pete and his community are doing is an inspiration. So I would urge a reset from sports to wellbeing; from a focus on children and young people (the result of the Vision & Strategy) to adults; and something driven not by the rhetoric of management and ‘success’ measured by numbers, but based on a rich theology of the body. Reflecting on the paper being presented to Synod, Pete noted that there was no need to do “evangelism by stealth” using sport as the way in, because Revelation Fitness is already advertised as a faith-based activity, and this does not put people off; they want to explore spirituality and faith without suspicion.

    Pete suggests that we are in a “new shifting missional landscape. We have the opportunity to enable all apostles (not just ‘pioneers’!) to ‘take church to the people’, by running, for example, local community sports and wellbeing groups, that include spirituality / faith / prayer as an integral part. This is something that the new parents of the next 10 years will happily be a part of with their children!”

     

  • Which Focus: Harmful Systems and Cultures or People Within Them?

    by Savitri Hensman, author of  “Sexuality, Struggle and Saintliness” and LGBTI+ equality activist, writer and involvement coordinator

    The Church of England is facing a storm of unwelcome publicity, with several senior clergy in the headlines, against a backdrop of internal tensions over various issues. This led to the resignation of Bishop of Liverpool John Perumbalath, after Channel 4 aired a concerning, if sometimes inaccurate, news item on allegations of sexual impropriety by two women against him; allegations which he denies.

    One of these women has identified herself as the Bishop of Warrington, Bev Mason. Stephen Cottrell, Archbishop of York, was accused of covering this up and there have also been renewed calls by some for him to resign, though others believe he did what he could, within the limits of his powers, to try to get concerns addressed. However church rules, enforced by a judge, meant that Bishop Bev’s claim could not be properly dealt with because it was deemed out of time. So neither she nor Bishop John was able to have their take on what took place properly considered, an unsatisfactory situation for both.

    The Charity Commission weighed in, reminding Church of England leaders of their safeguarding responsibilities and writing to General Synod members and bishops, in the run-up to a February session which is likely to be tense. Other news reports claim that a handful of retired clergy now deemed no or low risk still have permission to officiate at services despite safeguarding plans which restrict their contact with children. This ties in with earlier dismay that, in the diocese of Chelmsford, where Stephen Cottrell had been bishop, a priest barred from being alone with children, David Tudor, had nevertheless been allowed to remain as an area dean and made an honorary canon. After another abuse report he was removed, yet this also highlighted the role of professional advice which earlier warned against removing his titles.

    This has been an extremely difficult time for those most affected, as well as others for whom one or another aspect has resonated painfully with their own experience. It has also been saddening and sometimes bewildering for many in the Diocese of Liverpool and others of us who know one or more of the people concerned. I am hesitant to add to this by writing on this topic, which may leave people with different perspectives, but whom I care about, feeling hurt. Less importantly, I am also aware that, by taking a different view from that of Stephen Cottrell’s fiercest critics, a little of the anger directed towards him may be turned against me, which is not something I relish; yet I am critical of the Church for what many others apparently find acceptable.

    Urgent action is needed. Hopefully a truly independent safeguarding system, with suitably skilled staff and adequately resourced, will be put in place without further delay. I fear however that some of what is going on is more hindering than helping to further safety and justice. And this matters too much for me to stay silent. Even if I am wrong on some issues, I hope that more discussion may strengthen moves to improve matters.

    It is frequently pointed out that there are positive examples in wider society from which churches can learn. However it is worth learning too from failings in how scandals in the NHS, social services and other institutions have been dealt with at times. Managers and professionals who did not prevent these have been publicly shamed and sometimes punished, only for similar problems to surface elsewhere, repeatedly. Sometimes these have been linked with gaps in coordination or competing goals across organisations and systems (health, adult and children’s social services, criminal justice and so forth).

    The desire for accountability is understandable. Yet the focus on individuals can mean that wider risk factors are brushed aside. In social and health care, there are indeed instances when appallingly abusive or neglectful practice goes unchallenged, or subtler bias causes widespread harm. But understaffing, unintended consequences of national policy and so forth can continue to do damage and maybe worsen the situation, as morale may drop still lower, with more staff quitting or practising so defensively that it affects patient or client wellbeing. There may be opportunities for learning here too.

    I am not a survivor myself. But abuse has profoundly affected people I care for, or have cared for, with a major impact on my own life. And as a volunteer and sometimes trustee, I have been active for many years in seeking to counter gender-based violence and support survivors. I have also been involved, for over four decades, in striving for racial justice and LGBTQ+ inclusion in churches and society, locally and nationally, and have written extensively on equalities and human rights. In other settings too I have had to grapple with the complexities of trying to change systems and cultures. I am a layperson and the closest I have come to high office in the Church of England is serving on deanery synod in my borough.

    Amidst widespread anger and distress among church members, it can be tempting to assume that leaders should always have been able to prevent or detect problems sooner. They may be blamed for being too soft on those who seem evidently guilty – or, if those accused are heroes or friends of ours, being too hard on the obviously innocent. I have done this myself. Yet recognising the messiness of reality, including limits in knowledge, different perceptions and human imperfection in ourselves and others, may be crucially important in moving forward together.

    Ongoing concerns amidst a backdrop of conflict and uncertainty

    In parishes, chaplaincies and higher levels across the Church of England, numerous people seek to put their Christian faith into practice, while recognising their fallibility and need for God’s mercy. The hungry are fed, the sick and lonely visited, the good news of divine love and hope through Jesus’ life, death and resurrection is shared in word and deed. At the same time, churches are often better at worship and caring than at exploring what God’s realm on earth of justice and peace might look like, where this includes confronting inequity, and insensitivity and cruelty may take a toll, as in any other community or movement.

    Historically, the Church’s track record in dealing with sexual abuse has been abysmal; and, while other institutions with similarly shameful pasts have moved faster to strengthen systems, improvements here have taken longer. Intensive work has gone on to strengthen safeguarding in recent years, including required training for numerous laypeople with various responsibilities, as well as for clergy.

    Yet dealing with cases of historical abuse has been erratic and, even now, the quality of responses to allegations and concerns is variable. The complexities were highlighted by the sorry saga at Christ Church Oxford, in which a dean and vice dean on different sides of a controversy over alleged sexual harassment faced long and stressful proceedings. Lack of transparency and confidence in safeguarding systems and concerns about the clergy disciplinary system were spotlighted. Proportionality was also an issue, though even ‘minor’ breaches can have a serious impact. In a flawed system, those alleging abuse or sexual misconduct, those against whom allegations are made and those in positions of responsibility who act, or fail to do so, can all pay a heavy price; though handling such concerns even in better-designed processes in other organisations can be harrowing and ultimately unsatisfactory.

    Meanwhile, from the frontline to the most senior levels, the Church has struggled with failing attendance and overstretched finances, heightening tension over a range of issues. Perhaps the most contentious in recent years is Living in Love and Faith, as painfully slow progress has been made towards allowing clergy and congregations to celebrate, and benefit from, same-sex partnerships and marriage. Despite widespread support among British Anglicans, made clear repeatedly in polls, and strong theological arguments for change, there has been limited movement towards allowing those in favour of affirming loving commitment, as well as those against, to act in line with conscience.

    Despite the archbishops themselves being in favour of such change, they have often not made the case clearly and strongly enough, in my view, nor have they pointed out the costly concessions already made by those seeking greater inclusion. This has left some campaigners for change very angry. Those strongly opposed continue to call for schism, furious that even modest progress has been made – though other ‘conservatives’ have been trying to find a constructive way forward. So senior figures may face anger, even hostility, from opposite directions.

    Regardless of their position on LLF, many people are united by genuine commitment to improving safeguarding but, in this volatile situation, actual or perceived blunders by senior clergy are more likely to be seized on as evidence they should be removed. And pragmatically, especially for those who would like to halt or reverse greater LGBT+ inclusion, gaining more seats and influence in the House of Bishops is seen as important to protect the Church from error.

    Along with concerns about an erratic and sometimes untrustworthy system for responding to safeguarding concerns, and the system for dealing with alleged misconduct by clergy or others in senior positions (or supporting them if struggling), questions have been raised about other relevant systems. Even in secular settings, professional advice-givers can wield considerable power – one of the reasons why so much attention has been paid, for instance, to Crown Prosecution Service handling of cases of alleged harassment and abuse. It is important to secure consistently skilful specialist advice and avoid conflict of interest, so that England-wide and ecclesiastical law and charity duties including responsible financial stewardship are complied with, alongside keeping people safe and doing justice.

    It should also perhaps be noted that, outside as well as in faith organisations, the ‘right’ outcomes cannot be guaranteed even if suitably skilled people apply the right procedures. Some have interpreted the findings of the Makin review as implying that Church leaders are responsible if, after sharing available evidence with the police and other bodies, these bodies do not take firm action against the alleged wrongdoer. If, and when, safeguarding is handled independently (hopefully soon), and if the lead body and its staff also face such expectations and cannot fulfil these, further problems may arise.

    Meanwhile, while journalists have played an extremely valuable role in bringing instances of abuse to light and driving change in churches, media attention remains something of a blunt instrument. A real passion for justice, empathy or lack of it towards interviewees, combined with the need to present stories in easy-to-grasp ways; all these can lead to oversimplification and occasionally misinformation. Reporting on what happened in Liverpool, and the responses which followed, has highlighted serious flaws, including lack of a clear process for discreetly delaying public ministry while concerns are methodically, while promptly, investigated. Even when inaccuracies in what was broadcast are corrected – and claims about bullying in the process have now been contested by several present – these receive less attention than the original assertions.

    The dispute about what happened during the Crown Nominations Commission’s selection process also reminds us that people may perceive the same events differently. I have no inside knowledge about what happened. But CNC processes for other dioceses have sometimes reached an impasse if a candidate is LGBT+-affirming. If, say, certain members regarded John Perumbalath as unsuitable for that reason along with others, and the archbishop encouraged people present to make a decision rather than yet again failing to appoint anyone, some might have felt unduly pressured.

    Also, concerningly, the lead journalist on the Channel 4 news story seemed to brush aside the fact that the first series of alleged incidents, in places where others too were present, were reported to and investigated by both Church safeguarding officials and the police, neither of whom verified these. There are problems if allegations are taken as proof of guilt, with the outcomes of any investigation ignored and a cover-up assumed.

    Unhelpful cultures

    Church of England culture – or perhaps ‘cultures’ – is (or are) a further complicating factor. Tradition and ties with the state, in particular, may foster an almost feudal culture, in which bishops may be ‘lords’ and different dioceses treated almost as separate entities. There are also echoes of a patriarchal model of a bishop as a father figure who benignly yet authoritatively governs a household. Even when bishops have tried to break this mould – and it can be flattering to be treated in this way – some may project such longings on to leaders, only to feel betrayed if these leaders turn out to have feet of clay.

    Managerialist culture, with accompanying structures and targets, has also had a huge impact in recent years, despite better-run businesses largely recognising its imperfections in improving ‘efficiency’. Populist culture is now widespread in wider society, in which a handful of influential people who may be portrayed as opponents of the ‘elite’ (whatever their own backgrounds and positions) may wield considerable power of various kinds. I think it is also on the rise in the Church. It is absolutely right that people with a persuasive case should be heard, yet in situations of mistrust and insecurity, simple solutions may be favoured and understandable indignation channelled in not always helpful ways.

    While there may be an unspoken assumption that a top cleric should be a wise and powerful figure, like an idealised liege-lord, head of the family or senior executive, or alternatively a symbol of a rotten old order who must be toppled to bring about change, in reality they may be sometimes muddled or wrong, just like the rest of us, and facing numerous constraints on the use of their powers.

    Moving forward

    I hope that Stephen Cottrell, despite mistakes, remains in place, while the focus is on major systemic and cultural change. We also need to celebrate and build on instances when the Church, at various levels, has lived out the Gospel. As well as introducing a truly independent safeguarding system, I suggest undertaking root cause analyses of failings; and, in identifying possible improvements in connected systems too, trying to anticipate and mitigate unintended negative consequences, while being ready also to identify and respond to unanticipated harms. Systemic change is seldom straightforward. Far greater openness, and willingness to involve church members at grassroots level in frank discussions about what should be done about various difficulties, may be helpful.

    To do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with God (Micah 6.8), and seek to be merciful while hungering and thirsting for righteousness (Matthew 5.6-7), are harder than they might seem. To gloss over abuse and other serious injustice, or neglect to defend those at risk, ultimately fails to show mercy not just to victims but also those at fault, who are called to do better, like all of us when we fail to live out our calling. Yet in seeking together to tackle what has gone wrong, we should be aware that what follows may not work entirely as expected, and that there will be risks of further hurt of various kinds. No human-made system is failsafe.

    The process of healing and restoration of right relationships in the Church will not be easy, but making a start now is important. Recent events have highlighted that there is much to be done.