ViaMedia

Author: Helen King

  • What Have the Bishops Done?

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

    Where do we find the doctrine of the C of E? One answer to that question is: in our liturgy. That is why huge significance has been placed on liturgical texts which have been, or may be, authorised as part of Living in Love & Faith. The claim is often dignified by repetition of the phrase, lex orandi, lex credendi (‘the law of praying is the law of believing’) but this is not found in any formally authoritative source. The situation is in reality a bit more complicated. It might seem to an innocent observer that the 39 Articles of Religion (1571) are a statement of the Church of England’s doctrine. But by the later 20th century it was recognised that these were the product of a particular time and concerns. So, instead, the Worship and Doctrine Measure 1974 enabled the adoption of the Declaration of Assent used at every clergy licensing. This recognises the Articles (alongside the Prayer Book and Ordinal) as ‘witness’ to the faith found in Scripture and set out in the Creeds, and requires the new minister to recognise them as ‘inspiration and guidance’ – but no longer as a decisive statement of faith in every one of their details. It is this understanding which has been recognised in the law of the Church of England by the Court of Arches.[1]

    This absence of a straightforward statement of doctrine, and the reality that an appeal to Scripture only generates competing interpretations, has meant looking to approved liturgical texts as evidence for what the Church does or does not believe, a pattern encouraged by the 19th century era of litigation around liturgical controversy. This is reinforced by the circular theological position set out in the liturgical part of the 1974 measure and the Canons; that various bodies (Synod, Convocations, ordinaries) may authorise liturgical texts which “are neither contrary to, nor indicative of any departure from, the doctrine of the Church of England in any essential matter.” In the absence of any clear test of what that doctrine is, and the lack of any workable legal means to apply a test, the authorisation of a text is effectively evidence that its content does conform to the doctrine of the Church.

    Curiously, many of those opposed to change have argued at various points that, because any change to the Church’s teaching on marriage and sexuality would be a change in doctrine, this would require the use of the full Synodical process for approving liturgy under Canon B2. This is similar to the legislative process with first, revision, and final stages, and two-thirds majorities required in each House. This was what happened, for example, when the new Eucharistic texts in Common Worship were agreed in the late 1990s, as these are alternatives to the Prayer Book service of Holy Communion. However, all that Canon B2 provides is a mechanism for Synod to approve texts which are (in its opinion) “neither contrary to, nor indicative of any departure from, the doctrine of the Church of England in any essential matter” – the test referred to above. The Canons do not include a concept that the doctrine of the Church of England ever actually changes in any essential matter, only that it is expressed differently. So neither the ordination of women as priests and bishops in 1994 and 2014 respectively, nor acceptance of the remarriage of divorcees from 2002, were a change in doctrine (which would imply, perhaps, rewriting the Creeds or redefining the canon of Scripture) but merely reorderings of our common life. Even if Synod were to endorse same-sex marriage, this would only confirm that it was “neither contrary to…..” (you know the rest!)

    I am writing whilst the LLF process is still very much underway, and it is increasingly clear following the Archbishop of Canterbury’s recent podcast interview that it will help everyone if the House of Bishops could achieve some more clarity about what they believe they are doing. Contrary to what it may seem, however, they have done more than argue and procrastinate. Last December they commended the Prayers of Love & Faith as resources for use in regular services, together with a statement denying that these constituted any change in doctrine, or of teaching on sex. I agree that they are not a change in doctrine, but they are a change. In response to the legalisation of civil partnerships in 2005, the then House of Bishops declared that “clergy…should not provide services of blessing for those who register a civil partnership”[2] and on the introduction of same-sex marriage in 2014, repeated the instruction, “Services of blessing should not be provided.[3] Whereas now they have very clearly commended a set of prayers that may be used with those who have formed a civil partnership or same-sex marriage.

    Officially, of course, there is some hairsplitting, that the Prayers do not provide ‘services of blessing’ and so somehow this is not a contradiction. I don’t think anyone is convinced. Even when they are simply used in existing services, the PLF invite a minister to name the specific couple involved, and there are prayers asking God to bless them. And ironically the inclusion of different prayers for covenanted friendships clarifies the matter – because covenanted friendships are explicitly stated to be non-sexual and non-exclusive, that makes it clear that the main Prayers are for what we might try to gloss as one’s ‘central personal relationship.’ The associated Guidance fortunately makes it clear that it is not appropriate, with the PLF as with marriage couples, to ask intrusive questions about the intimate expression of any such relationships.  The Guidance also includes warnings that services should not imitate Holy Matrimony, whilst wisely noting that particular dress and associated trimmings are varied and subject to a range of cultural assumptions.  Since the distinctive mark of Holy Matrimony (as opposed to legal marriage in England today) is that it is between a man and a woman, we do not really need this warning, as the PLF are explicitly for same-sex couples.

    I shall return to the question of what sort of movement in the teaching of the Church on personal relationships this represents below, but first want to be clear about the status of the texts. They are commended by the House of Bishops for use by ministers in their discretion under Canon B5, meaning that the House has determined that they are (guess what!?) “neither contrary to nor &c.” This formula of commendation was devised in the 1980s to introduce new seasonal liturgical material in Lent, Holy Week & Easter (1986), The Promise of His Glory (1991) and much more since, on the basis that if a specific text had been approved under either Canon B2 or B4, that would have become the only permitted text, and stifled the liturgical freedom to devise seasonal services according to local need and custom. I have seen the argument both that this was different from the Prayers of Love & Faith, because it was not controversial, and that texts commended by the House of Bishops have no particular standing in law. Neither of these is true.

    Both Lent, Holy Week & Easter and The Promise of His Glory were presented to General Synod in the form of drafts in reports from the Liturgical Commission, for a ‘take note’ debate. In both cases the motion was passed by show of hands (meaning the level of support was not recorded) and it is possible that there was only modest interest from Synod (in the latter debate someone successfully challenged whether the House of Bishops was quorate!) Nonetheless, elements of the proposed texts were resisted and, more significantly, on both occasions speakers rose to object directly to the proposed method of commendation by the House, arguing that as the new books restored ceremonies which had been deliberately abolished at the Reformation, a full canonical process of approval should be followed. The ‘take note’ format also allowed the Liturgical Commission to go away and revise the texts including responding to comments in Synod, and the texts were then published without Synod having any opportunity to express a view on the final version. Though even then sex was more exciting than liturgy (as in the Higton debate of 1987) it was not without differences of opinion on both content and process. As for the standing of the texts from a legal viewpoint, both have been cited in faculty judgments in support of the acquisition of e.g. processional candlesticks and incense apparatus, as these are envisaged by their rubrics.[4] Although the exact impact of the decision must remain unclear until tested in court, the Prayers of Love & Faith commended by the House of Bishops do say something, as much reaction seems to confirm, even if we are still trying to work out what.

    Allow me a diversion. Readers who are familiar with Yes, Prime Minister may remember the episode in which Prime Minister Jim Hacker is manipulated into appointing a don from Sir Humphrey’s old college as Bishop of Bury St Edmunds in order to ease the latter’s retirement plans. At one point he is presented with an alternative candidate who has strong opinions on matters of public morality – abortion, teenage pregnancy, gambling. Hacker protests that those are matters about which he is trying not to have a policy (by implication, because they are too difficult and controversial) and Bernard Woolley, the Private Secretary, pedantically responds, “Yes, he is against your no-policy-policy” and so he is ruled out, and Sir Humphrey’s plan advances another step.

    It seems to me that perhaps there is some hope that the Church of England is moving, more perhaps by accident than design, to something of a ‘no-policy-policy’ on sexual relationships, in spite of the strong voices who oppose this. Besides anything else, any clear policy is going to have to draw some uncomfortably explicit lines around particular sexual acts, and it is difficult to imagine this turning out anything other than laughable. In other words, it might be that we reach a position where the Church responds to particular circumstances, both locally on an individual basis and commenting on national trends, but finally gives up pretending that the public role of Christianity is to define who is allowed to have sex with whom, as if anyone were really listening to that any more. And this would then be much like our wise resistance to absolute rules on war and peace, or how people spend their money, or the benefits and risks of the AI revolution. And we could get on with worshipping and serving the God who redeemed us in Christ, and whose world needs his love so much.

    References:

    [1] In the case of in Re St Alkmund, Duffield [2013] Fam 158, paras 24(a)-26

    [2] House of Bishops statement on civil partnerships, https://www.churchofengland.org/sites/default/files/2017-11/house-of-bishops-statement-on-civil-partnerships-2005.pdf, §17

    [3] House of Bishops Pastoral Guidance on Same-sex Marriage, https://www.churchofengland.org/sites/default/files/2017-11/house-of-bishops-pastoral-guidance-on-same-sex-marriage.pdf §21

    [4] In Re. St John the Evangelist, Chopwell [1995] Fam 254 and subsequent judgments adopting Chancellor Bursell’s reasoning.

     

  • The Sovereignty of God and Pastoral Responsibility in Political Turmoil

    Reflections on Privilege, Inequality, and Justice and the Re-election of Donald J. Trump as the 47th President of the United States of America

     

    by Revd Dr Augustine Tanner-Ihm, OMS, Lead Minister of St. Nick’s Kingsway, Manchester

     

    Growing up in the USA, the Pastor would always say, “God is Good, all the time,” and the response was always, “And all the time, God is Good.” This simple but poetic liturgical language was a reminder that God was good all the time. To be honest, we didn’t need to know that because we already had experienced that through the lives of our grand people and uncles and aunties. It was a cornerstone of the Black experience.

    Now as a pastor with much education and theological reflection, I think of the way in church we respond to things when the world is not good all the time.

    The sovereignty of God—a central doctrine affirming that God holds supreme authority over all creation—poses profound theological and pastoral questions, particularly amid politically turbulent times. During election cycles, religious leaders often assure their congregations that “God is in control.” While well-intentioned, these reassurances risk reducing complex theological truths and overlooking the severe impact that political outcomes may have on marginalized communities. In light of God’s sovereignty, pastors must balance their messages carefully, examining how this core tenet of Christian faith intersects with power, privilege, and politics. This reflection explores the importance of approaching the sovereignty of God with a nuanced, biblically-rooted pastoral theology that attends to the challenges of contemporary governance. Using insights from theologians such as Revd Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., James Cone, Gustavo Gutiérrez, and Tom Wright, this article considers the pastoral responsibility of responding to right-wing governance, particularly in cases where the clergy’s personal privilege may insulate them from the impact of oppressive policies. It also examines how nationalism and authoritarianism threaten the inclusive witness of the Gospel.

     

     Theological Foundations of God’s Sovereignty

    The sovereignty of God, foundational to Christian belief, asserts that God is the ultimate ruler and authority over all things. Scripture emphasizes this from the creation narrative in Genesis to the redemptive arc spanning the Old and New Testaments. Ephesians 1:11 states that God “works all things according to the counsel of His will” (The Holy Bible, New International Version), underscoring divine authority over human affairs and history. However, the notion of divine sovereignty does not excuse human agency; rather, it reinforces the Christian duty to engage actively in God’s mission through stewardship, justice, and love.

    In his work on the Kingdom of God, Tom Wright argues that God’s reign is not merely a far-off future but a present reality brought near by Jesus’ ministry, inviting believers to participate actively in God’s redemptive work (Wright, 1992). Wright’s theology encourages Christians to resist fatalistic interpretations of divine sovereignty that promote passivity and instead invites them into an active, present-tense engagement with justice and mercy. When pastors appeal to God’s sovereignty amid political outcomes, they should avoid implying that God ordains injustices. As Wright emphasizes, the Kingdom of God is “now and not yet”—a divine reality already breaking into the present, calling believers to reflect God’s justice and compassion (Wright, 2003). This call to action reflects a Kingdom-oriented faith that insists on challenging injustice rather than accepting it passively.

     

    The Pastoral Perils of Simplistic Commentary on Election Outcomes

    Simplistic appeals to God’s sovereignty during times of political instability can hinder rather than empower. While well-meaning, reassurances that “God is in control” may comfort some but seem dismissive to others, particularly to those for whom political shifts directly threaten safety and rights. Pastors must discern how such messages resonate differently across their congregations. James Cone’s Black Liberation Theology warns that the Gospel demands a “preferential option for the poor,” highlighting that Christ’s message is inherently liberative, with a special concern for the oppressed (Cone, 1970). Without careful consideration, pastors may unintentionally obscure or even undermine this liberating aspect of the Gospel.

    The Trump administration’s policies illustrate the impact of right-wing governance on vulnerable communities, including LGBTQ+ individuals. The administration sought to remove legal protections in healthcare, military service, and civil rights, policies that LGBTQ+ advocates describe as discriminatory and harmful (Human Rights Campaign, 2020). To claim God’s sovereignty without a critical reflection on the justice implications of these policies risks trivializing the plight of marginalized groups. Revd Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. emphasized that “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere,” reminding Christians that divine sovereignty calls them not into resignation but into action on behalf of the oppressed (King, 1963). For King, God’s sovereignty was not an excuse for passivity but a mandate for prophetic, justice-driven witness.

     

     Privilege, Power, and Pastoral Commentary

    The privilege of some clergy—whether economic stability, heterosexual orientation, or racial identity—can shape political commentary, often without conscious awareness. For pastors relatively insulated from the negative impacts of government policies, there is a responsibility to speak up for the vulnerable. Gustavo Gutiérrez’s liberation theology emphasizes that “theology begins with the reality of suffering” and insists that Christians adopt a “preferential option for the poor” (Gutiérrez, 1973). Gutiérrez’s theology challenges clergy to avoid complacency, encouraging solidarity with marginalized people who may suffer under right-wing or authoritarian regimes. Privilege can distort pastoral perspectives, underscoring the need for critical reflection on social position and an intentional effort to amplify the voices of those most at risk.

    The rise of White Christian Nationalism illustrates this danger starkly. White Christian Nationalism seeks to blend Christianity with nationalist ideology, often privileging certain racial and social groups over others and thus undermining the Gospel’s universal message of love and justice. Such ideologies, while popular in some circles, not only erode the church’s credibility but also distort Jesus’s teachings on compassion and inclusion (Mark 12:31). The Book of Common Prayer reminds the faithful to “pray for the whole state of Christ’s Church militant here in earth” (Church of England, 1662), calling Christians to an inclusive faith that stands in solidarity with the oppressed, rather than aligning with exclusionary structures of power.

     

    Inequality and the Pursuit of Justice

    Inequality within society exacerbates the harm caused by dismissive pastoral commentary. Policies such as those proposed by Project 2025, which aim to advance conservative priorities in the United States, highlight the potential dangers of government decisions that deepen inequalities and reduce support for marginalized communities (Heritage Foundation, 2023). Pastors who invoke divine sovereignty to explain or excuse such policies risk perpetuating systems of oppression rather than challenging them. Proverbs 31:9 urges believers to “speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy,” reinforcing the call to resist structural injustice rather than acquiescing to it.

    Historically, the Christian church has often been complicit in oppressive systems, from colonialism to the Atlantic slave trade. The resurgence of White Christian Nationalism continues this pattern, weaponizing faith to justify exclusionary and harmful policies. Under such ideologies, LGBTQ+ individuals, among others, face increased marginalization. The LGBTQ+ community faces significant challenges under both nationalist and authoritarian regimes, particularly those that exploit faith for exclusionary purposes. For example, policies under Trump’s administration removed federal protections for LGBTQ+ individuals in various sectors, creating barriers to healthcare, adoption, and workplace equality (Human Rights Campaign, 2020). White Christian Nationalism distorts the Gospel, promoting a version of Christianity that emphasizes exclusion and division rather than inclusion and love. In contrast, the Gospel’s message affirms the dignity and worth of all people (Galatians 3:28).

     

    Pastoral Response to Right-Wing, Authoritarian Governments

    Pastoral care must engage in prophetic critique, particularly of governments that perpetuate inequality or undermine the rights of marginalized communities. Gustavo Gutiérrez’s liberation theology underscores the church’s duty to challenge systems of injustice. While pastors should avoid aligning too closely with any political party, they are called to uphold values of justice, mercy, and compassion as modelled by Christ. This call may necessitate opposing state policies when these violate the inherent dignity of individuals. Pastoral response must move beyond words to involve tangible actions that support those harmed by discriminatory policies. As the Book of Common Prayer encourages, believers are called to confess their sins—both personal and collective—and seek forgiveness, committing themselves to justice and righteousness.

    The legacy of King, Cone, and Gutiérrez emphasizes that discipleship requires courage and a willingness to stand against injustice, even when such resistance may be unpopular. Their witness reminds today’s church of the Gospel’s call to justice, compelling pastors to engage their communities in resisting structures that dehumanize or marginalize others.

    The Anglican Ordinal outlines the pastoral responsibilities of priests and deacons, particularly emphasizing their call to care for the spiritual and material welfare of all people, especially those who are vulnerable or marginalized. According to the Ordinal, priests are called “to preach the word of God, and to administer the holy Sacraments,” while deacons are entrusted to serve and advocate on behalf of the poor and those in need, living as “a sign of Christ’s servanthood.” In the context of political turmoil or policies that harm the vulnerable, this pastoral role calls both priests and deacons to embody the compassionate, justice-oriented heart of the Gospel. Their charge is not to support the status quo but to challenge injustice with the love and mercy modelled by Christ. By attending to the spiritual needs of their congregation while actively resisting policies that deepen inequality, clergy are reminded that their ordination vows include a commitment to advocate for a just society. In doing so, they fulfil the Ordinal’s call to care for all people, reflecting the Kingdom values of compassion, justice, and inclusivity as embodied in their pastoral vocation.

     

    Conclusion: Toward a Faithful, Justice-Oriented Pastoral Presence

    The doctrine of God’s sovereignty affirms God’s ultimate authority, yet it should not be used to justify passive acceptance of injustice. Instead, it calls Christians to embody God’s justice, compassion, and mercy within a world fraught with sin and inequality. As pastors speak of God’s sovereignty, they must remain mindful of their own privilege, ensuring their message does not unintentionally support unjust political systems.

    The witness of the Gospel compels believers into a life of discipleship that embraces the marginalized and resists oppressive powers. Martin Luther King Jr., James Cone, Gustavo Gutiérrez, and Tom Wright challenge the church to live out a faith that reflects God’s justice, recognizing the sovereignty of God not as a license for passivity but as an invitation to active, justice-driven love for all creation.

  • Smoke and Mirrors and the Alliance

    by Nic Tall, National Co-ordinator of Together for the Church of England

    The House of Bishops has just met to discuss, among other things, the latest steps in the drawn out Living in Love and Faith process. Current discussion points include whether clergy should be allowed to marry their same sex partner while receiving a licence to minister, how the Prayers of Love and Faith for blessing couples in a same sex relationship can be implemented, and what provision needs to be made for those of differing views in this complex and contested area. A letter to the Bishops written by a group called the Alliance, who oppose the full inclusion of LGBTQIA+ people and their relationships into the life of the Church, has also become public.

    The Alliance letter makes the interesting claim that it “continues to grow numerically with 2360 clergy whose churches currently represent 42% of the Church of England’s average Sunday attendance and 53% of all under eighteen-year-olds within the Church of England.” Some online commentary has been taken aback by these numbers and the suggestion that the Alliance are supported by so many rank-and-file pew-filling Anglicans. But the numbers are not quite what they seem. I therefore thought it would be useful to dig into the numbers, show the unresolved questions around them, and place them into the wider context so you can make your own mind up about the current state of the Church of England and any likely dissent from the use of the Prayers of Love and Faith – prayers which, of course, nobody is obliged to use.

    First, who are the Alliance? Their website describes them as “an informal partnership of leaders from networks within the Church of England”. Most of these networks are of a conservative or charismatic evangelical flavour. In previous letters written by the Alliance there have been around 25 to 30 signatories, with the qualifying statement that “all signatories are leaders of networks/organisations but are signing in their personal capacities, recognising they cannot claim to speak for everyone that they lead.”

    The Alliance are also a limited company, the most recent letter having been signed by its directors. Of those seven directors, two are on the Church of England Evangelical Council (CEEC) including the CEEC National Director, one is a Regional Director with New Wine, three have links to the HTB (Holy Trinity Brompton) church planting network and one Chairs the Traditional Catholic Group on General Synod. That balance of directors shows that it is substantially being driven by the HTB network, and one point that is far from clear is how far CEEC statements are also Alliance statements.

    It is a big stretch to get from seven directors and around 30 signatories to 2360 clergy, so where does that figure come from? The Alliance website has a section inviting clergy and laity to “join with the Alliance”. The form to fill out includes the proviso that “we will not assume you speak on behalf of your whole church.” The first page is for personal details, including the church they attend, the diocese it is in and if they are clergy, lay ministers or other laity. The second page has just two questions, only for clergy and licenced lay ministers: “Your church’s average adult Sunday attendance” and “Your church’s average under-18s attendance”. The final page asks them if they agree to the Theological Vision published by seven conservative bishops and if they support the ongoing work of the Alliance.

    I assume that this sign-up form is the source of the 2360 clergy, along with the stats for their congregation and under-18s. In June 2024 the Alliance stated they had “over 2000” clergy, which has now become “2360 clergy” in October 2024; does this limited growth imply that the Alliance numbers are plateauing? And what does “clergy” mean here? It should not be assumed that they are all incumbents leading churches. The number could also include curates, non-stipendiary ministers, chaplains, clergy in other work and retired clergy, who may or may not hold a Permission to Officiate. Given that there are approximately 20,000 active clergy in the Church of England across all roles, that means over 17,000 have not indicated their support for the Alliance. And how many separate churches are covered by the 2360 clergy, given that there can be more than one priest licenced to a church? For example, the National Register of Clergy lists 37 clergy licenced to the parish of Holy Trinity Brompton. So it is difficult to know just what the 2360 clergy represent in terms of their roles or the churches they minister in.

    What we can be sure of is that these clergy do not represent everyone in their churches. The statement at the top of the sign-up form affirmed that. So it’s strange that the latest Alliance letter closely links these clergy of unspecified role with “42% of the Church of England’s average Sunday attendance and 53% of all under eighteen-year-olds within the Church of England”. But it’s clear that not all in a church under conservative leadership share their leaders’ views. The false assumption that they do was challenged in an article in the Church Times in January 2024 about members of HTB network churches; one priest stated how the leadership were ignoring different perspectives, with “many keeping quiet out of fear for repercussions”.

    The statement regarding 53% of under-18s is also strange, given that most toddlers I speak to hold no firm views on church politics or the theology of interpersonal relationships. Yet it is repeated on social media without any challenge. As for the teenagers within that 53%, are they all fully behind the stance of the Alliance? Having met teenagers from Gen Z, I highly doubt it. The notion that young people are staying away from the Church of England because it isn’t homophobic enough doesn’t bear much scrutiny. One reason many conservative churches aren’t open about the vicar’s views on LGBTQIA+ relationships (and sometimes also on women’s ministry) is that they know the younger generation just wouldn’t wear it.

    As for the claim to have 42% of average Sunday attendance, how is that calculated? Do the Alliance add up those figures from the people signing up on their website, compare it with the national statistics for ministry, and calculate a percentage from the two? This is unlikely to be comparing like with like. Some filling out the Alliance form will have given an optimistic estimate, rather than the more detailed count required for the national figures. If two clergy from the same church sign up and give different figures (the Vicar says 150 per Sunday, the curate says 120) which figure is used? The more optimistic one, of course. There is no guarantee that there hasn’t been double counting, adding in the figures given for Sunday attendance for every priest signing up, even if some are from the same church. It is clearly not a reliable percentage, given that the number of people allegedly attending the churches connected to the 2360 clergy are unlikely to have been calculated on the same basis as the national figure for average Sunday attendance.

    The next question is just what have the 2360 clergy signed up to? Page 3 of the sign-up form includes both the conservative theological statement and also support for “the ongoing work of the Alliance”. The theological statement is straightforward enough, but it does not contain a programme of action or assert any of the measures the Alliance say they feel are necessary. And what is that “ongoing work of the Alliance”? There is currently no single document on the Alliance website that lays out their position. There are the letters written, mostly to the House of Bishops, which offer hints reiterating what has been requested in other places (e.g. separate bishops, separate training for ordinands, the formation of a separate province for conservative clergy). Much of this develops over the course of the letters, so it is not clear whether clergy signing in support in the early days would offer support to the measures being requested many months later. So those unhappy with the commendation of the Prayers of Love and Faith, but who have no intention of leaving the Church over them, may not realise that signing is being taken to support demands for formal structural and legal change as a condition of remaining.

    While the Alliance may not have a single paper in the public domain outlining their demands, there is one published by the CEEC from 2024 titled “What do we need”. This lays out their demands clearly and in one document, and some of these are echoed in later Alliance letters. It demands a legally secure structure with separate bishops, separate finance, separate vocations and ordinations, separate training, separate deaneries and dioceses, separate safeguarding, and more. They present this as a plan to maintain “unity” in the Church of England but it reads instead as partition into two separate churches under one roof. The main points of contact between these two entities would be the conservative province retaining access to funding and continuing to be represented on General Synod. It is as if I said to my wife “we can only stay married if I live in another country, never speak to you, but still have access to the bank account”. There is no requirement for the 2360 clergy indicating support to the Alliance to have read, let alone accept, this schismatic programme outlined by the CEEC.

    What we do know, however, is that the scale of ambition of the Alliance is not being met. As I reported at the end of last year, there were grand plans to recruit 3000 churches representing more than half of the Church of England’s worshipping members. Evangelical clergy were receiving direct approaches encouraging them to take part, including signing up for the Ephesian Fund and Overseers schemes launched by the CEEC. These schemes are intended to divide the church, using finance and walking away from diocesan bishops as leverage.

    However, a CEEC newsletter in September 2024 revealed that they had not even reached 500 clergy or churches subscribing to these schemes. John Dunnett, CEEC National Director, wrote:

    “We will be encouraging more churches and clergy to take action to show their concern about the current direction of travel. We would love to see 500 churches paying their parish share through the Ephesian Fund and 500 clergy receiving the alternative spiritual oversight being facilitated by CEEC.”

    It should be noted that signing up for the Overseer scheme, rejecting the pastoral provision of your own diocesan bishop in favour of someone appointed by the CEEC, does not require a priest to receive the approval of their PCC. It is also open to those who already receive alternative episcopal oversight from the Bishop of Ebbsfleet due to rejecting the ordained or episcopal ministry of women. In such instances the CEEC would recommend oversight be provided by the Bishop of Ebbsfleet, who currently has oversight of around 140 parishes. This seems very odd; in order to inflate their numbers to reach 500 parishes opting for extra episcopal oversight, is the CEEC asking those who already receive it from the Bishop of Ebbsfleet to reject the Bishop of Ebbsfleet so they can be assigned to the Bishop of Ebbsfleet and therefore count as a dissenting parish under the Overseers scheme? Yet more smoke and mirrors from the CEEC.

    This autumn, the Ephesian Fund is being further promoted by the CEEC so their “call for negotiation can get louder and more impactful”. Rather than being a last ditch means to facilitate those who feel they can no longer pay their parish share, some 18 months after Synod made a clear vote for LLF in February 2024 the CEEC are having to stir up discontent and persuade parishes that this is something they need to consider. Originally the rationale for the Fund was so that parishes can keep giving financially to the Church of England (although with the money channelled to the “right” sort of churches), but now it is being presented as a way of applying political pressure on the bishops. Concerns about this weaponizing of church finances for political ends have been raised by Together for the Church of England, who have released this briefing paper for PCC members being asked to consider the Ephesian Fund. Such careful consideration is needed; while I was writing this article, I heard of one large charismatic church whose income dropped by £50k after the incumbent announced he was taking the conservative line. PCC members being encouraged down this route should be warned.

    In conclusion, the claims made by the latest Alliance letter need to be questioned and put into wider context. My reading of these claims is that a plateauing number of clergy of undisclosed role from an uncertain number of churches, who do not speak for all their congregations, have signed up to support a conservative theological statement and an unarticulated practical response to the LLF programme. Remember that such clergy are not, and never will be, required to use the Prayers of Love and Faith and will be able to operate in full conscience in the Church of England as they always have done. For most, such assurances are sufficient. Meanwhile the CEEC and the Allianceå are trying to overinflate the impression of widespread dissatisfaction at all levels within the Church, because their aim is to reach a structural split which signals schism in everything but access to resources. That so many have not joined up shows that the Alliance may be a broad coalition, but only a fraction of that coalition are moving to take action in forming the so-called “de facto province”.

    What is so sad here is that the rest of the Church of England, the majority, has already made significant allowances to accommodate differences of conscience over same sex relationships. It really is time we accepted this and moved on. The Church has other issues to deal with. The General Synod has voted by a majority in all three Houses on three separate occasions to implement greater inclusion for LGBTQIA+ people, including welcoming the use of the Prayers of Love and Faith. Fighting a continual last-ditch attempt to restrict the freedom of LGBTQIA+ people to love who they love and to serve in the Church as they are called is not helping anyone.

     

  • The “Failure of the Church”: Why Waiting is Not Neutral

    by Revd Dr Charlie Bell, Fellow at Girton College Cambridge; Assistant Curate, St John the Divine, Kennington 

    ‘Lament and repent of the failure of the Church to be welcoming to LGBTQI+ people and the harm that LGBTQI+ people have experienced and continue to experience in the life of the Church’.

    So began the motion passed by the General Synod in 2023, in relation to the LLF project. Just look at the state of it now. According to Bishop Martyn Snow, in his recent video, ‘We’re still in the process of working with LGBTQI+ people to look at what that apology really means in practice’. So far, not much.

    I am bored writing about LLF. I am sure you are bored hearing about it. And yet here we are, almost two years on from that motion, and we have moved … effectively nowhere. Yes, some prayers have been commended – which was ‘looked forward to’ in that first motion – and that was a real step forward (although, of course, it really just formalised what was already happening in many parishes). But it happened nearly a year ago now, and although the prayers have been approved as a ‘standalone service’ we are being asked to wait to use them until a ‘registration process’ has been set up. Meanwhile, there have been a love-in residential, endless variations on working groups (with precious little new output), and various half-promises made. Folk wanting some progress for LGBTQIA+ people have given of their time and energy again and again. But in terms of actual change brought about for LGBTQIA+ people, let’s be frank – since that motion, there has been effectively nothing. Zero. Nada.

    This is enough of a disgrace in itself that the endlessly dithering House of Bishops should hang their heads in shame. Yet let’s be absolutely up front and frank here – that is not the half of it. Let’s not pretend: we know that there have been votes amongst the bishops to enable clergy to enter same-sex marriages, and those of us in the process know that Archbishop Justin’s comments on sex being for marriage do indeed reflect the general position of the House and College. Against that background, though, the required withdrawal of the nasty little Issues in Human Sexuality (a withdrawal required, let us remember, all the way back in February 2023), still has not happened – which is completely unacceptable. Similarly, all those in the LLF process know that clergy same-sex marriage is a question of when and not if – such has been said to us by staff, by bishops. The idea it won’t happen is ludicrous – and if that does become the plan, then there is no benefit to dragging it out any longer. Yet still, no decision is made – and we are treated like fools, again, and again, and again.

    Indeed, forty-four bishops called for this decision to be implemented ‘without delay’ in November 2023. Funny definition of ‘without delay’, right, a year on – and with the endless can-kicking, wasted time, and – frankly – wasted vocations.

    Because this isn’t an abstract issue. We have potential ordinands, whose call has been blocked by the absolute impediment that they have fallen in love with someone and have formalised it in law. Similarly, bishops are refusing to license clergy in same-sex marriages, all in the middle of a vocations crisis and the scandal of endlessly overworked clergy. Cases from the Diocese in Europe, where some countries don’t provide the option of civil partnerships, show quite how small-minded, absurd, and nasty this policy is in practice. In some places, bishops are quite inexplicably – and viciously – refusing to license lay people in civil marriages to people of the same sex or gender too. Even Issues in Human Sexuality didn’t go that far.

    So we clergy can pray prayers of blessing for others in such relationships but not enter into them ourselves? Similarly, clergy from other provinces of the Anglican Communion in same-sex marriages cannot minister in the Church of England, but clergy from these provinces who have celebrated such a marriage can? What a load of ecclesiological – and queerphobic – nonsense that is. The whole thing is a rotting ulcer at the heart of our church’s polity – and still, nothing is done. Where is the courage? Where, frankly, is our pastoral heart? How long, O Lord? Why is it that we are so expendable – so worthless – so detested? We asked for bread, were promised a stone – and even that is still withheld.

    The truth is, though, that there has been work done, ‘progress’ on LLF – it’s just that this work has nothing whatsoever to do with LGBTQIA people. LLF is no longer about them – about us. It is about those, a small but rich and powerful minority, who wish to exclude them from parts of church life based on their sexual orientation. It has become yet another tool of the powerful over the vulnerable. Just like Jesus always wanted.

    This is not new. Those who ‘couldn’t accept’ the ordination of women as priests and deacons got a nice pay-off as they swam the Tiber. In today’s arguments over other people using prayers and other people getting married, once again the sole focus has been on those who oppose the majority position. Look back over the reams of papers, debates, and ‘solutions’ suggested for our current predicament – how many of them actually mention, let alone prioritise, LGBTQIA people? Hint: not many.

    Those of us in favour of LGBTQIA inclusion seem to be bending over backwards to ensure those who think we aren’t even Christians should be given absolutely everything they claim they need so that they are not stained by our queerness. Adverts from inclusive churches speak of the need for ‘support’ for those who feel ‘disappointment, discomfort, or distress’ about the use of the Prayers of Love and Faith. While it’s surely good that PCCs are discussing where they stand on their use, and complete honesty about this will help people decide whether a church is for them or not, it’s all very one-sided. Meanwhile, there is precisely nothing about the actual LGBTQIA people about whom this project was supposed to be.

    The entire project has become disproportionate without ever moving anywhere near the ‘radical new inclusion’ promised at the outset. All we are doing now is yielding to threat upon threat from the ‘Alliance’, which has a much louder bark than its bite, and in the process chucking more and more LGTBQIA people onto the pile that says: ‘not important enough’. We appear willing to be agents of injustice to protect the powerful who now claim they are being oppressed. It would be laughable if it weren’t so tragic.

    Christians and their churches are known by how they treat their weakest members. Jesus said something about that somewhere. The Church of England is standing at a precipice where it must decide whether it really wants to be known for creating a system that looks after the privileged, or whether it actually wants to embed and live the apology to LGBTQIA people that it so far only claims to believe in.

    This time of treating LGBTQIA people like collateral chaff cannot continue. If the bishops do not have the courage to permit us to enter into same-sex marriages and continue to live out our vocations – vocations that have been acknowledged and affirmed by the church – then it is time for them to admit that. This includes every serving Church of England bishop – every single one of whom, at present, agrees to implement the 2014 voluntary agreement. Similarly, if they want to continue the nonsense of ‘yes at Evensong, no at a standalone’ when it comes to the Prayers of Love and Faith, so be it. If that is the church they are proud to lead into the future, then they should own it.

    That is, of course, the church they currently lead. Waiting is not neutral – it is ongoing structural violence. Deciding not to decide is a decision – a decision to support ongoing injustice, and to say, through their actions, that we are not worth the hassle of making oneself unpopular with one’s sibling bishops. Neither handwringing nor can-kicking, nor hoping it will all go away, nor endless agonising about how difficult it all is, is a Christian virtue.

    And until a single bishop is willing to name this injustice, and then actually act justly, then they can – frankly – keep their apologies.

  • Should We Expect Archbishops to Tell the Truth?

    by ‘Graham’

    There have been, in the last ten days, two efforts to address this question. In a letter to the Church Times on 5 October 2024, former General Synod member Vasantha Gnanadoss asks whether there should be “duty of candour” within the church. She suggests a “John Smyth clause” in Church disciplinary legislation. As a victim of John Smyth myself, I have long wished that there might be greater integrity in the statements made by senior figures around the John Smyth abuse scandal.

    This is then picked up by an article in Christian Today on 8 October 2024, when Julian Mann asks whether a duty of candour in 1982 might have saved around 90 African children from the abuser John Smyth. One died: Guide Nyachuru. The article then veers into mandatory reporting, which is a much more complex question – though one that is vitally important.

    And why is a “duty of candour” so important? First, the obvious Christian duty to be truthful. The moral imperative not to “bear false witness” is surely much wider than the secular requirement to be truthful? A wide interpretation would include withholding the truth, when a counter narrative is known. And not actively misleading, by “putting a spin” on things. The Church of England seems obsessed with reputation management, so is prepared to dissemble and give answers that are far from “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth”. Perhaps, like Colonel Jessup in the film A Few Good Men, the Archbishops feel that their flock “can’t handle the truth.”

    We all will be aware of times when the Church has not been entirely honest. An answer to General Synod may be a half-truth, a disguise, a cover up. The answer given to General Synod in February 2024 by Jamie Harrison, an Archbishops’ Council member, was a supreme example. Asked about “how many reviews had already been commenced” for the “ISB 11” he replied that “Survivors engaging with the IC (Interim Commissioner) have requested that their engagement is kept confidential therefore the IC cannot confirm the number at this stage”. While strictly true, around confidentiality, Harrison must have known – or certainly ought to have known – that at that stage not a single review had been commissioned or started. Not entirely honest?

    This problem with honesty extends to Church of England employees. On 27 April 2022, the NST announced with regard to the Makin Review into John Smyth: “The first phase draft is expected to be with the NST within a month and it will continue to receive drafts over the summer months”. This was either known to be absolutely untrue, or NST had just failed to check that it was true. Had Keith Makin simply lied to them – like a schoolboy concocting a story about why he hadn’t finished his homework?  Or was he in effect lying to himself about his ability to deliver? Either way, the answer given to General Synod was simply untrue.

    And what about the Archbishops? Stephen Cottrell has recently been caught out with regard to statements made to General Synod in July 2023. Subsequent research has shown that his “mistake” was repeated on multiple occasions, in front of people who knew that his statement was just untrue. However, rather than show a “duty of candour” in 2023, or in his apology in General Synod in July 2024, it is “spun” as a “mistake”. No, Stephen, your statement in July 2023 was not just a “mistake”. Whether the words you said were your own, or whether they were given to you to say, they were simply untrue.

    When an MP or a minister is revealed to have misled Parliament, they are required to apologise and correct the record. If they are found to have lied in public, they are usually dismissed by their party or government – or at least they were until the past few years when standards of truth in public life have plummeted. Synod is a statutory body modelled on, and deriving its power from, parliament.  Why is it legitimate to deceive Synod without consequences? Come to that, why is it acceptable for a bishop or archbishop who has been found to have lied in public to remain in the national legislature?

    And so to Justin Welby, who is of far greater interest to victims of John Smyth. Welby has only made two significant public comments on John Smyth: at LBC on 2 February 2017, as the story was breaking, and on 12 April 2019 to Cathy Newman on Channel 4. Now, where do we start?

    At LBC, Justin stated that “I went off to work in France in 1978 … And I was abroad at the time the report was done and had no contact with them at all”. By May 2017 this had been shown to be completely untrue, as evidence had emerged of his attendance at a camp as a speaker in 1979, and that he had received the Iwerne newsletter during that period. “No contact” is simply untrue, and gives the impression of having broken ties with Iwerne. However, his biography states that “Welby was involved in the camps as an undergraduate and again as a businessman and theological college student in the 1980s and early 1990s.” His LBC answer fails the “duty of candour”.

    Then on Channel 4 he stated that, in 2013, “I wrote to the Primate in South Africa”. He has subsequently admitted this was simply untrue. By 2019, he had had two years to recall and reflect upon what happened in 2013. But he told an outright untruth.

    And spin, a failure in the “duty of candour”. On Channel 4 he made the assertion that “John Smyth was not actually an Anglican” and that “Iwerne was not part of the Church of England”. These sound like lines given to him by a crisis management consultant. But in fact John Smyth was an authorised Church of England Lay Reader; he worshipped at Christ Church, Winchester, a Church of England church. In Zimbabwe he worshipped at St Luke’s Greendale, whose vicar was Vicar-General of the Anglican Diocese of Zimbabwe. In Cape Town, he worshipped at St Martin’s Bergvliet, which describes itself as an “Anglican community church”. Any claim that Smyth was not Anglican is simply untrue.

    “Iwerne is not part of the Church of England”? Might one question why, then, the future Archbishop of Canterbury attended for three decades? What did he think he was attending? Referees for Iwerne included Lord Coggan, former Archbishop of Canterbury, and Maurice Wood, Bishop of Norwich. It was run by David Fletcher, holding licence from the Church of England. A victim has identified 58 Iwerne attendees in 1982-83 who were either then ordained, or have subsequently been ordained in the Church of England. Several current, and some former, Bishops attended Iwerne. Justin’s statement that Iwerne was not part of the Church of England fails the “duty of candour”. Perhaps what Justin Welby was really saying was “My job is impossibly hard as it is. I have to try to say things all the time that will keep everybody on board. Please don’t ask me on top of that to tell the truth.”

    The Channel 4 interview spawned the “Fourteen Lies letter” as victims refer to it. I will not here go through all the “untruths” (“the Bishop of Ely contacted the statutory authorities”: untrue; “the allegations didn’t take place at Iwerne”: untrue). The Makin Review will show that many of the statements made to LBC were also simply untrue.

    One of the greatest frustrations for the victims of John Smyth is that we still do not yet have the truth. We need that for a sense of justice, for closure, for the chance to “move on”. We still do not have Justin’s account of what he did or did not know, and did or did not do. This is not just frustrating: it is a deliberate withholding from victims of simple honesty and integrity. This covers not just what is known, but those things not yet disclosed. It has emerged this year in Private Eye (Issue 1628, 18 July 2024) that Justin was a financial contributor to Smyth’s work in Africa. But the Archbishop is hiding behind “wait for Makin” and refusing to answer questions on this subject. He is withholding the truth. Why is this not in the public domain, almost eight years after the Channel 4 expose?

    Back to my title, and “should we expect the Church to tell the truth?” When they are in the pulpit, archbishops expect us to believe that they are telling the truth. But when they are dealing with difficult issues, bishops and archbishops routinely defer to church lawyers, who devise answers that are designed to avoid consequences, and communications advisers, who burnish the answers to ensure that they contain the minimum of actual information. The Church of England spends tens of millions of pounds a year on communications at national and diocesan levels. But for decades, the church has not employed communications specialists. Instead they have chosen to employ Public Relations experts – a very different profession, with an agenda that focusses on reputation management, not on telling the truth.

    The experience of victims, campaigners, allies, and members of General Synod, is that we cannot expect to hear the truth. This is an extraordinary assertion. But victims of Peter Ball, Trevor Devamanikkam, Jonathan Fletcher, Mike Pilavachi, Iain Broomfield are all left feeling they have NOT been told “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth”.

    And this failure in the “duty of candour” starts at the top: with the Archbishops.

     

  • When Doctrine Meets Dinosaurs

    by Revd David Runcorn, a convenor of the Inclusive Evangelicals network

    An edited version of the keynote address given at the recent ‘Radical Love: being an inclusive evangelical’ conference, hosted by the churches of St James and Emmanuel, Didsbury, Manchester, September 2024.

     

    It began on the beach. Two children sifting the shoreline for shells and fossils to sell – everything helps for a family always on the edge of poverty. That day they stumble on something extraordinary. Buried in the sand is the large, fossilised skull of a creature with huge eyes, powerful jaws and dozens of sharp teeth. It had fallen from the cliffs above. The boy leaves. His twelve year old sister begins a long search for the rest of the fossil in the cliffs. At last she uncovers it. It was seventeen feet long. The local newspaper called it a crocodile, but it was clear this was a creature that no one had ever seen before. It was eventually named Ichthyosaurus (‘fish lizard’), a marine reptile that we now know lived around 200 million years ago. It caused a sensation far and wide. Even the Madras Courier reported it.

    The year is 1812. This is Lyme Bay, Dorset. The girl’s name was Mary Anning. It was the first of a series of discoveries she made. She became a widely sought out, self-taught, expert on fossils and palaeontology, though the public credit was routinely claimed by men. In March, over 200 years later, on International Women’s Day, the Royal Mail produced stamps to commemorate her – only slightly slower in arriving, I observe, than first class post these days.

    Though fossil finds were not new, the nineteenth century discoveries triggered the development of the first properly scientific theories to explain them. They asked wholly new questions about the world. Worryingly, for Christians of that time the answers appeared to contradict what the bible was thought to teach.

    Previous centuries had all contained discoveries that overturned inherited beliefs and understandings. In 1492 Columbus simply sailed off the edge of the known maps of his day. Europe then had no idea of the true size of the planet or even that any land existed south of the equator. The impact of the stories of new worlds he returned with was immense. It was one of the triggers for the imaginative transformation that was The Renaissance. The response was exploratory, adventurous, outward looking.

    Other findings met with fierce opposition though. In the 1600’s when the scientist and astronomer Galileo challenged the ‘orthodox’ belief that the sun and stars revolved around the earth he was excommunicated for contradicting the Bible and the teachings of the church. He spent the latter part of his life under house arrest.

    Now, nineteenth century Britain found itself faced with discoveries that triggered a similar mix of excitement, anxiety, and often fierce opposition by the Christian world. Those unearthing these ‘impossible monsters’ (as local Dorset novelist and clergyman, Charles Kingsley, called them) quickly learned to be very cautious about where they shared their findings. Once under suspicion the consequences could be dire. Patrons withdrew funding. Publishers were threatened with prison. Teaching careers were terminated. Charles Darwin is one of the best known in that era, sailing on the Beagle in 1831 and publishing the Origin of the Species in 1859. But he kept his most controversial theories hidden in a secret diary for twenty years.

    Why was there such resistance? We look back rather baffled, for what they were uncovering has long since become so much common knowledge.

    It centres on what it means to be biblical.

    Nineteenth century Britain was a devoutly Christian nation. The Bible was the authority at its foundations. All claims to human understanding and knowledge must conform to the holy texts and be judged by them.

    Anning’s discovery was problematic because her findings appeared to contradict the creation stories in Genesis, which were believed to be literal accounts.

    Genesis chapter one clearly states that God separated land from water on day three. Creatures were not created until day five. So what is a marine mammal doing on dry land at all? And why is it deep under the ground and not lying on the surface?

    Furthermore, these creatures were no longer in existence. But did not God tell Noah to bring two of every kind into the ark to survive the flood (and marine mammals would have been untroubled by water anyway). Extinction was a hitherto unknown possibility. The very idea seemed to be a blasphemous denial of God’s creating work and the Biblical record.

    The Genesis account states that God made all creatures ‘according to their kinds’. This was understood to mean each species was distinct and fixed. The emerging theories of transmutation or evolution of species – particularly of primates into humans – shocked faithful believers.

    One further factor was the belief about the age of the earth. In 1650 Archbishop Ussher had published his life’s work using the bible record to date creation back to its very beginning. His conclusion was that world began on the night of October 22nd/23rd, 4004 BC. The King James Bible versions began to incorporated Ussher’s chronology into the margins alongside the bible text. This chronology became part of ‘orthodox’ belief everywhere. To challenge it was to question biblical revelation itself and attack the very faith of the church.

    Here was society and church facing amazing new discoveries about the world but with an understanding of the scripture texts that meant the emerging conclusions  had to be resisted as attacks on the Bible and Christian civilisation as a whole. One of Charles Darwin’s most public supporters was nicknamed the ‘devil’s disciple’.

    Faced with the evidence of these discoveries nineteenth century believers reacted in different ways. Philip Gosse was a leading naturalist in his day. Darwin consulted him. He agreed that the visible evidence pointed to evolutionary processes and a world of great age. But, for him, the bible was a higher authority. He believed it taught that God made the world complete, in a moment, but with all the appearance of age – such as rock strata, tree rings and even a navel for Adam. He decided God must be testing our faith by making it look otherwise.

    Others felt they could no longer believe the bible in the light of what they were uncovering. Surely the bible was wrong? What they were rejecting though was not the bible so much as a certain way of reading it – perhaps the only one on offer to them. This may have contributed to Darwin’s personal loss of faith. Only very slowly and unevenly did the necessary discussions begin about whether the bible was ever actually doing history, and pronouncing factually, on these issues in the way so long believed. But by time he died in 1882, the agnostic, Charles Darwin, was granted a final resting place in Westminster Abbey, just around the corner from Archbishop Ussher. Four thousand years is now four thousand million years and counting.

    I find here a parable for faith and church today, facing new questions of its own around issues of human identity, relationships and belonging. The lessons to be learned are very similar. So are the consequences of resisting them.

    The Church of England regularly affirms its mission as being to ‘proclaim afresh in each generation’. This is not simply finding ever new ways of communicating inherited beliefs, though. That is where the nineteenth century church was stuck.  Faith must engage with the challenges of fresh questions and discoveries around us. Unless we are willing to do this it we will end up trapped like our Victorian forebears. The questioning is mutual.

    So what happens with doctrine means dinosaurs? Or to put it another way, how does the Christian church, in any age, in every tradition and expression within it, avoid such defensiveness, using the bible to barricade faith, rather than be trustingly and adventurously open to the new?

    For St Paul biblical faith was always something unfinished and incomplete. ‘Now we see in part’, said Paul – partially, imperfectly. ‘Now we see dimly’, he continued – obscurely (1Cor 13.9-12). Biblical faith does not yet see all this clearly or in its completeness. It never has. Being biblical involves a trusting not knowing. Christian faith is forward looking. There is always more to learn, to discover. This means the unsettling process of allowing the inherited boundaries of faith and understanding to be tested and challenged afresh. Christians need to be very careful about claiming certainty when it comes to the bible text.

    The Living in Love and Faith project reflected this in its quite new way of exploring faith and understanding. It replaced the blocks of theological knowing, of inherited faith and its outworkings, with an approach ‘marked by provisionality and humility, recognising that we are in a time of corporate not-knowing, where mystery remains as to our humanity and how we are to live our lives in a world that we do not always understand, and where God often acts in surprising ways’. (1)

    Being biblical requires the work of ‘double listening’.  

    The great evangelical teacher John Stott constantly urged this. What we need, he said, are Christian minds that are humbly “shaped by the truths of historic, biblical Christianity and also fully immersed in the realities of the contemporary world.” (2). They must meet and talk to each other and be willing to learn from each other. Neither can say of the other, `I have no need of you’.

    We have long had a developing understanding of scripture, in fact. The process of re-visiting previously unquestioned biblical convictions in the light of new questions, is not unfamiliar to us. Often fiercely resisted at first, on the basis of what ‘the bible says’, the list includes creation/evolution, cosmology, science, biology, race, women and men, and divorce and re-marriage.

    • if we don’t call divorced and remarried people adulterers and stone them.
    • if we do not expect women to be silent in church and to learn theology from their husbands at home.
    • if we borrow and lend money on interest.
    • if disabled people are not excluded from worship or ministry.
    • if we think slavery is evil.
    • if we use artificial contraception and make love without intending to conceive life …

    we have already moved significantly beyond what the bible teaches, even commands – and never revokes. Not denying divine revelation, but asking afresh what kind of revelation it is. Not denying its authority, but discerning the nature of its authority, and therefore how it speaks and guides us into the new challenges we are encountering. Each challenge requiring the faithful to revisit their understanding of scripture.

    The revered evangelical theologian, I Howard Marshall urged the need to move beyond scripture, that is, beyond the immediate surface reading of the texts. He knew there were risks involved in this, but he was clear the greater risk was being misled by only reading the Bible in an ancient time warp and refusing to go beyond the letter of scripture (3). When this happens, faith becomes inflexible and fossilized. The nineteenth church offers an example of this. Our twenty-first century church is facing similar challenges as we explore the holy mystery of human identity and belonging.

    Being biblical requires us to read the bible responsibly.

    Rabbi Jonathan Sacks notes there are 613 commands in the Torah but ancient Hebrew had no word for ‘obey’. Modern Hebrew had to create a word for absolute obedience. The Hebrew words shema and lishmoa express a call to hear, listen, attend, understand. ‘Hear O Israel’. Sacks suggests, therefore, that God seeks something more from us than just obedience in the face of the commands – more than just submission and compliance. He seeks our responsibility (4). To discern what ‘following’ and ‘obeying’ means we must first hear, listen, attend and understand. English translations miss this by nearly always translating those words ‘obey’.

    Being biblical means engaging responsibly in careful discussion and dialogue with the text, with God, with our world and with each other – a work of continuing, communal discernment. When the Living in Love and Faith process put story and dialogue at the centre of its approach it could not be more biblical.

    This dialogue is found within scripture itself. For example, the way the wisdom tradition challenges the confident certainties of the dominant Deuteronomic voices – ‘Do good and you will be blessed, do bad and it will go bad’. Excuse me, says Job and others, life is not that simple. Bad things happen to good people and many evil people seem to live a long time with their health and wealth intact! Another example would be the way the books of Samuel, Kings and Chronicles offer very contrasting and sometimes contradictory assessments on the same era of Israel’s history. A critically discerning conversation or even argument is going on. Whenever the New Testament quotes from or alludes to Old Testament texts they are changed, conceptually or literally, in nearly every case. Jesus reading and preaching from Isaiah at Nazareth is a striking example of this.

    Here is a continuing revelation, in and through the scriptures, under the Lordship of Christ and the compelling of the Spirit, engaged with this emerging world. The scriptures reflect the character of the God who inspired them.  Karen Keen called her book about the inspiration and authority of the bible – ‘The Word of a Humble God’ (5). A humble God speaks a humble word to us.

    ‘The Bible says ….’

    The argument for inclusion and welcome from scripture is an accumulative one. There are no explicit texts and examples on offer. ‘Show me one text’. ‘Give me one example of blessed gay couples in scripture’. There aren’t any. It means on social media and elsewhere we can quickly sound hopelessly vague and attempting to avoid the plain meaning of the text – what ‘the bible says’. ‘Did God say?’  But this is not actually how scripture reveals, teaches and guides.

    To state the obvious – the bible is not a divine encyclopaedia with a text and example for every life question – so if ‘Blessed Gay Couples’ are not found in the index, well, they are obviously not biblical.

    Nor do we literally obey every place in the bible where there are explicit texts and examples. There are no bible texts anywhere condemning slavery, or any condemnation of polygyny, and not one example of a blessed slave-free church in the New Testament. But we would claim our opposition to slavery today is utterly scriptural. There are no examples in the bible of artificial contraception and family planning. There are no stories anywhere in the bible of blessed couples who are divorced and re-married. But in our lifetime the church has believed all this to be consistent with scripture. We have moved beyond the text of scripture believing this to be a faithful, pastoral development of orthodox, biblical doctrine.

    Finally, the church has never been a place where people all believe the same thing – least of all my own evangelical tradition. It has always been a place where there are strong differences and debates going on. It was so in the New Testament where Jew/Gentile divisions run through church life like an unresolved fault line. It was their version of our sexuality debates.

    The christian church is on a journey of understanding, and we are all in different places on the way. In 1997 Richard Hays, published The Moral Vision of the New Testament. He was already a widely respected and influential theologian. The book included a chapter on homosexuality that quickly became the definitive statement for conservative believers about the bible’s opposition to same sex relationships.

    In April this year he announced his understanding had changed and he had written a book explaining why and saying sorry. This sent shock waves through the evangelical world. Within a week two long reviews had appeared explaining why he was wrong. This was quite an achievement in itself because the book was still six months from being published at all. ‘The widening of God’s mercy’ was published last month (6). God’s mercy is always wide but here was a man humbly confessing that on this subject it is wider than he ever knew. We, like Hays, have yet to reach the end of it.

    The challenge to faith in every age is to be open to the new. To walk humbly with our God in this emerging world. For now, we see in part.

     

    It is a journey of understanding in which

    doctrine must meet dinosaurs

    texts must be tested afresh

    certainties must be questioned anew

    where bibles are no longer barricades

     

    It is a journey of faith together,

    from anxiety to adventure,

    beyond entrenchment to transformation,

    from regression to renewal

    from hostility to hospitality

     

    as we explore the ever widening revelation of God’s creating life and love.

     

    It is a biblical journey. This is Orthodox faith. Most gloriously of all, it is where we meet Christ, in the ever-widening community of his radical love.

     

    1. https://www.churchofengland.org/sites/default/files/2023-10/gs-2328-llf-nov-2023.pdf. Annex H p4.
    2. quoted in https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/trevin-wax/crucial-reminder-double-listening/
    3. I. Howard Marshall, Beyond the bible – Moving from Scripture to Theology STL. 2004. p78.
    1. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Genesis, the Book of Beginnings, OUP, 2010, p45.
    2. Karen Keen, Eerdmans. 2023.
    3. Richard B Hays. The widening of God’s mercy – Sexuality Within the Biblical Story. Yale. 2024.

     

    David Runcorn is the author of  Love means love – same-sex relationships and the bible (SPCK) and the forthcoming Playing in the dust – a pilgrimage with the creation stories (Canterbury).

     

     

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

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

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

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

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

    Andrew writes:

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

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

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

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

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

     

    Ben writes:

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

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

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

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

     

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

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

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

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

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

     

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

    by ‘Graham’

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

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

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

     

    This is what I wrote in 2019:

    Dear Keith and Sarah

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

    It is almost fifteen weeks since the Review was announced:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Graham 22/11/19

    Cc Bishop Peter Hancock, Emily Denne, Melissa Carslake

    Richard Scorer, Slater & Gordon

     

  • 30 Years, 40 Years: And Not Equal Yet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • Crown Nominations Commission Back in the Firing Line

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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