ViaMedia

Category: General Synod

  • Bread or a Stone?

    by Revd Neil Patterson and Professor Helen King, Chair and Vice-Chair of the Gender & Sexuality Group on General Synod

    Throughout the slow and painful progress of debate about same-sex relationships in the Church of England, we have both often reflected on the parallels with the even longer battle for the ordination of women. In that struggle there were perhaps four decisive moments in General Synod:

    1975 – Synod agrees that there is no theological objection, but declines to prepare legislation.

    1978 – Synod again declines to prepare legislation, and Una Kroll cries from the gallery, ‘we asked for bread, but you gave us a stone!’

    1985 – Legislation begins, but Archbishop Runcie abstains, and the Women Ordained Abroad Measure falls after being controversially designated Article 7 business, but women deacons are approved.

    1992 –  Final Approval for women priests.

    The question we have asked ourselves is – in the aftermath of LLF, are we in some equivalent place on the timeline, and if so, where? For some in the Church of England, we haven’t yet reached 1975, as they raise theological objections based on Bible passages that are highly disputed in terms of both their translation and relevance. The Genesis story of a man and a woman (and a talking snake) has been made to bear more weight than this powerful story about human weakness was ever intended to carry. It has certainly often felt as if we are in 1978, with progress deadlocked, and the possibility of meaningful change endlessly thwarted. However, with the publication of the House of Bishops paper (GS2289 Living in Love and Faith: A response from the Bishops of the Church of England) it feels as if we may be close to 1985, and this is why.

    Firstly, we are definitely not there yet. Whatever the merits or otherwise of the proposals tabled by the House of Bishops, we are both clear that the only logical and just conclusion of these debates is for marriage in church to be once again open to all couples who may marry in law, just as it was before the passage of the Same-Sex Marriage Act (with an honourable exception for the largely forgotten Deceased Wife’s Sister’s Marriage Act of 1907).  That would be the equivalent of 1992 (or perhaps even 2014, when women bishops were finally agreed).

    Second, we need to be realistic about this Synod, and the Church it represents. We are not of one mind, and that’s true even within the ‘progressive’ or the ‘conservative’ wing. We may hold the same view as someone else, but for a very different reason. That happened with women’s ordination too, as it united in opposition those who wanted union with Rome and those who found that prospect abhorrent. We believe that conservatives are currently overrepresented in Synod, but we know there are also lots of ‘unconverted’ people.

    Synod is not a good place to be when the stakes are high. Expect to see a range of cards being played: emotion, personal stories of pain, standing orders being invoked and amendments tabled. We need our Archbishops to speak calm into the debating chamber.

    As we say, there are definite parallels with now and 1985. We are held back by the technicalities of the Synod process, just as the Women Ordained Abroad Measure fell because it was designated Article 7 business, and so the required majorities were not reached. Just as Archbishop Runcie abstained on the women priests legislation, Archbishop Welby has declared that he will not actually use the new prayers for same-sex couples himself. It seems that the ability to nail one’s colours to the fence is an occupational requirement at Canterbury. But we do have proposals for definite change, and they are progress.

    When the measure to permit women deacons was passed, there was some discussion of whether this would change our view of the diaconate, making it a distinctive role rather than a stepping stone to priesthood. Some women felt called to a permanent diaconate, and this role for both men and women remains, at least in some dioceses. Some members of Synod voting for women to be able to be ordained as deacons would not vote for women priests. Some resisted the measure entirely, and argued that women deacons were the ‘thin end of the wedge’, a back-door route to women as priests. Similarly, some in Synod will be comfortable with blessing same-sex committed relationships, but would not want to regard these as marriages, while others will be swayed by the thin end of the wedge argument.

    What women deacons did was to show people that women could perform all aspects of ordained ministry; except celebrating Holy Communion. Deaconesses could not officiate at marriages: deacons could, and can. Seeing women for the first time in such roles represented the real change. When the Deacons (Ordination of Women) Measure came to the House of Commons in October 1986, the Second Church Estates Commissioner Sir William van Straubenzee observed that “The major function which deaconesses cannot perform at present and which differentiates them from the deacons is officiation at a marriage. I suspect that the famous man or woman in the pew would be hard-pressed to say what the difference in function is.” Deacons were also able to be appointed in charge of a parish and, where they were, their pastoral ministry often dissolved opposition.

    We are aware that many are disappointed with the proposals, and may feel that Synod should reject them as we did the paper GS2055 in 2017. We disagree, as that would leave us no further forward than we were then, with no realistic prospect of moving again. We would have liked to see more boldness, particularly about future change towards marriage. The actual motion laid before Synod is rich in bromide and weak in action. But in spite of all that, it is substantially the step forward asked for by the Hereford Motion and Mae Christie’s PMM. And a strong vote in favour by Synod will strengthen the arms of those bishops determined to see revised guidelines in place which allow clergy to freely enter same-sex marriages.

    But even more importantly, the new commended services will enable thousands of ordinary parishes, unsure how to respond to same-sex couples, to say, ‘No, we can’t marry you in law, but we can pray “Pour out the abundance of your grace upon N and N in their new life together.” Let’s start talking about hymns and music.’ And so across the country more and more Anglicans will see same-sex couples seeking God’s blessing on their love and commitment, and find that it is a beautiful and good thing in God’s sight.

  • An Open Letter to Bishops – Your Pastoral Charge

    by Jayne Ozanne, Founder of Via Media, Member of General Synod and Director of the Ozanne Foundation 

    ‘Again, Jesus said, “Simon son of John do you love me?” He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said: “Take care of my sheep”’ (John 21:16)

    Jesus had just asked Peter a second time “do you truly love me”.  Peter’s answer was the same.  Jesus’ response wasn’t.

    The charge Jesus left Peter, the ‘rock’ on whom Jesus said “I will build My church” (Matt 16:18), was first and foremost a pastoral one.  It was not a doctrinal one, or a call for unity but quite simply a charge to care for His people.  All of them.  Each and every of one of us – those that we know, those that we don’t know.  Those who are like us, those who aren’t.  Those we agree with, those that we don’t.  Everyone.  That is, unless you think there are any sheep that Jesus is not concerned about?

    ‘Take care of my sheep.’

    It really is that simple.  A pastoral charge given by the Good Shepherd to the person who would go on to start His Church.  Peter is called to look after Jesus’ sheep and safeguard them from harm.  I would therefore suggest that it is this that you are called to – above all else! Taking care of people.

    But I fear that many appear to have forgotten this of late – and instead have got side-lined into prioritising arguments around doctrine, around ‘unity’ and misplaced notions of collegiality.

    ‘Take care of my sheep.’

    It may seem obvious to say, but a shepherd should never knowingly harm his or her sheep – they should never take a decision that they know will leave some vulnerable.  Indeed, quite the opposite – a ‘good’ shepherd will always prioritise protecting those in their care, particularly the most vulnerable, from forces that are seeking to kill and destroy.

    So why then, bishops, are you so determined to sacrifice certain sheep on the altar of expediency?  Why are you protecting some and not others?  I for one know that you have been presented with reams of evidence of the harm that LGBT+ people have experienced in their churches, you have heard countless testimonies of how so many have suffered because of the religious teaching they have been subjected to, you have been made aware of the numerous research studies (including one from the UK government itself) stating the mental health outcomes of young LGBT+ people growing up under conservative teaching.  Goodness, even the UN are now commissioning a report to document the harm done by religious teaching on the LGBT+ community.  But for some reason you just don’t seem to want to engage with these facts or prioritise them.  So why, please, is that?

    I’d love to know just how much time you have dedicated to listening to the impact of church teaching on LGBT+ people’s lives?  Indeed, how many LGBT+ people have you met who have attempted to take their lives (for there are far too many of them, but they may not feel able to talk to you about it – it would be interesting to reflect on why)?  Can you honestly say you’ve given as much time to listening to LGBT+ people as you have done to arguing about scripture?

    Cutting to the chase.  Did you listen to LGBT+ people yourself, or did you try and create a short cut because of time pressures?  Perhaps you chose just to read the executive summary instead?

    ‘Take care of my sheep.’

    Maybe you don’t think this is that important after all.  Or maybe you don’t really believe that LGBT+ people are getting hurt by current church teaching?  I mean, it would be difficult to hear that we have been causing so many people such deep distress, causing young people to hate themselves, leaving them in impossible situations at far too young an age, where they have had to choose between hiding who they are and being accepted and welcomed by their families and friends.

    Or perhaps you don’t want to believe these truths because, let’s face it, it’s all a bit awkward?

    Or is it because you just don’t care about the harm your teaching is inflicting on certain sheep?

    ‘Take care of my sheep’

    Not just some of them.  Not just the religious ones.  Not just the good ones.  Not just the ones that conform to your understanding of what a sheep should look like.

    As you may know, I had the great honour of meeting Pope Francis just over 3 years ago.  I was told I would have about 45 seconds to say something and was advised to choose my words carefully.

    I wonder what you’d choose to say in my position?  As it happens, I spent many sleepless hours the night before trying to discern what I should say.  Here was a golden opportunity, and I wanted to make the most of it.  In the end I decided it would be best to reach out to his pastor’s heart – for that, ultimately, is what he is.  Christ’s pastor.

    So, the next morning after introducing myself I held his hand, looked him in the eyes and said:

    “Your Holiness, I grew up being told by the church that I would never be a wife, a mother or a grandmother – and sadly this nearly killed me.  This is my story (giving him my book) and this is some research showing that there are thousands more just like me.”

    Before I could say anything else he grabbed both my hands, lowered his head and in what many witnessed as a holy moment, whispered softly “please pray for me – as I will pray for you”.

    Two days later I was invited back to the Vatican to hear him castigate leaders who spoke out against LGBT+ people.  Two years later he then also chose to give a speech to various theologians urging them to engage with lived reality of people’s lives, not just ideological doctrine.

    ‘Take care of my sheep.’

    Bishops, we have journeyed long enough on this road regarding whether we LGBT+ people have the right to be treated as equals, and to be honoured for our desire to love and be loved.  You may think that we have travelled it together, but I can assure you that there are many who have been lost along the way as they can no longer cope with the pain of it all.

    If we are honest, we have spent hours discussing certain biblical texts, but we have spent precious little time discussing the harm that we have inflicted and continue to inflict on some of our most vulnerable members.

    I know that many of you have chosen to stay silent through this ‘time of reflection’, which has sadly only served to strengthen the status quo. I can’t help wonder why you chose to do this? Perhaps it was because you were scared of upsetting some of your flock?  But I have to ask you, what about the sheep you left undefended on the margins?  What about those who needed you to protect them?

    So please, as you deliberate this week ensure that you make have one thing central in your mind:

    “Take care of my sheep.”!

    And that means all of us!

  • Dear Bishop Christopher… An Open Response to my Diocesan Bishop after his Address to Southwark Diocesan Synod

    Dear Bishop Christopher… An Open Response to my Diocesan Bishop after his Address to Southwark Diocesan Synod

    by Simon Butler, former member of Archbishops’ Council and member of General Synod 2005-2022

    Dear Bishop Christopher,

    First of all, I want to express my gratitude for your remarks at Diocesan Synod. I read them at a distance in New Zealand where I am currently travelling and was grateful for the clarity with which you spoke. It is important now that all bishops join the rest of the Church of England in saying exactly what they think about human sexuality. Otherwise Living in Love and Faith would be a dead letter.

    I want to thank you for the way in which you have quietly and often publicly affirmed the ministry of LGBT+ clergy and lay people in the diocese. You have, in many ways, fulfilled the call we gave you in the Diocesan Statement of Needs at your appointment in relation to sexuality. I declare an interest: the drafting was my work! Thank you for your faithfulness here.

    Being Bishop of Southwark has always been about herding cats – our clergy are outstanding in their passion and commitment, conservative and progressive alike – and you have gone as far as you possibly can – and as far as your conscience will allow – to appoint and encourage LGBT+ clergy in their ministries. You have been a pastoral bishop to us all, even if that has been frustrating for some colleagues who have wanted you to go further, and faster. After all, this is Southwark!

    Your address to the Diocesan Synod was, as ever, the words of a pastoral bishop in the best tradition of Anglican Catholicism. I was not therefore surprised by a phrase I’ve heard you use before: “I do not expect to see the marriage canons changed in my lifetime.” It is something you often say, and it has served you well in Southwark, because it avoids you having to say what you think about same sex marriage. It does have the sense of being a politician’s answer, however, but one that I have often thought was both clever and perceptive. Only recently have I come to disagree with you, and from a surprising direction.

    I have been privileged to take part in a series of – until recently – entirely confidential series of discussions called the St Hugh’s Conversations. They began between Conservative Evangelicals and some progressive bishops, but have in the past three years broadened to include some conservative bishops, and those, like me, who want to see change to the current teaching on sexuality changed (it is worth noting that the majority of members are senior members of General Synod, who have an eye to getting things through our decision-making bodies). Despite our profound differences as members, we have agreed we can now identify ourselves individually and share themes. During the Conversations, we have listened to one another with great respect and affection, particularly to the concerns of conservative colleagues who remain deeply concerned about any change to the current position, including the one you advocated in your address.

    The uniting spirit of the St Hugh’s Conversations is a desire to bring to a conclusion the battle over sexuality that has beset the Church since 1987. None of us – conservative, progressive, LGBT+ or those who prefer to identify themselves as same-sex attracted – want to see our fragile unity further fractured, or the harm we do to one another as Christians continue its toxic tone. We believe – at least tentatively – that now must be the time to find a settlement which will suit us all. I have come to agree with this position.

    To that end, I am very sorry to say that I think your proposals outlined at Diocesan Synod fall short of such a settlement. I think that to preserve the maximum amount of unity by virtue of an incremental settlement through a liturgy of blessing same sex relationships (including marriage, I assume?) is a mistaken, if understandable, episcopal desire to kick the can down the road on same sex marriage. You will expect a progressive like me to say that, but what has been a stunning development in the St Hugh’s discussions is that conservatives can see a church which accommodates such a development. There is a growing unanimity that – noting how painful it would be for conservatives in the Church to agree to such a development – a Church which allows same sex marriages to be solemnised, while at the same time making provision for those who cannot agree to such a development (which in their mind goes some way beyond the sort of conscience clause you propose), is the best way ahead. We need to make fair and just provision for both sides here if we are to reach the possibility of a settlement. Only in the St Hugh’s Conversations have such possibilities been aired and a fragile consensus sensed.

    It is easy to see what provision for progressives would look like – an inclusive version of the marriage service. But what do conservatives want? To be honest, my sense is that there is not agreement here yet among them – like women bishops’ opponents, they are an alliance between impossibilists (who baulk at any change and would prefer an even more conservative settlement than the current position of the House of Bishops), those who want a very firm and clear boundary at every level of church life and governance (as laid out by the Church of England Evangelical Council, and something akin to a new Province), and those who are somewhere in between. It is not clear to me what their settled position is, and I sense it is not clear to them either! But it is much more than a conscience clause for opting out – rightly, in my view, they want some assurance of a future honoured and secure place in the Church.

    Questions of ‘provision’ will stir strong emotions among bishops (and many women clergy too) who have to deal on a daily basis with the settlement we have made on women in the episcopate. It is not hard to see why such steps will fill episcopal hearts with dread! But, as you and I have shared with women colleagues the tortuous pain of the women in the episcopate synodical journey, I regrettably have concluded that likelihood of inadequate provision, which I firmly believe that what you propose in your Synod address offers conservatives and progressives, will lead to another round of politics, campaigning and rancour. Such an incremental approach may well appeal to some in the College of Bishops, but in the wider Church I think the College risks not reading the signs of the times adequately.

    I once agreed with your ‘politician’s answer’ and thought it clever and necessary. But I am afraid now a politician’s answer won’t do. Living in Love and Faith has taught us to be clearer, rather than avoiding the elephant in the room. I want to know whether you are able to offer your support to an extension of the doctrine of marriage to same-sex couples or not. And I think you owe it to the process to give it.

    By all means, if your answer is ‘no’ or ‘not yet’ then please make that a little more clear. But if you do, then I ask you to consider that your solution risks the very unity you wish to preserve, and condemns the Church to another round of politics, electoral games and harm. It offers nothing to conservatives and not a great deal to progressives. I think it just offers a way for bishops to avoid biting the necessary bullet rather than working to the maximum unity we can achieve where everyone – in a deeply broken Church – comes away feeling, if not happy, then secure and free to minister according to their conscience.

    My prayers are assured for your next meeting with episcopal colleagues in the College.

    Your brother in Christ,

    Simon

  • ‘Hermetically Sealed Hermeneutics’ & an Inability to Own Up to Harm

    by Jayne Ozanne, Founder of ViaMedia.News, Director of Ozanne Foundation and Member of General Synod

    The inability to engage with the pain and abuse that Christianity has and still causes many people appears to be a hallmark of a certain type of theology, which completely refuses to allow any dissention from a “I am right and there’s absolutely no questioning that” way of thinking.

    It is the ultimate ‘Strong Man’ argument – where you are challenged to prove how ‘strong in the faith’ you are by your commitment to a certain truth, despite all the evidence to the contrary that it is, in fact, causing people great harm and inflicting untold levels of suffering.

    People in these sect-like groups are enjoined not to ‘give in’ to ‘soft-heartedness’ (otherwise known as ‘loving concern’ or ‘compassion’) as they risk forfeiting their own salvation.  Instead, they are told they must ‘stand firm’ against any attempt to undermine their beliefs, because (they are taught) ‘the devil is prowling around like a roaring lion’ seeking to knock them off track by appealing to their most vulnerable weakness – their emotions.  (I mean, heaven forbid that we let our love and compassion for our neighbour risk jeopardising our place in eternity!)

    That of course is why the “Bible is so clear” on certain topics, because to think otherwise might just be to create a hairline fracture in the wall, which might risk bringing down the whole edifice of the Christian faith.  And we couldn’t have that, could we?  I mean – questioning certain truths that have been held for hundreds of years is obviously something that Biblical scholars have never ever done!  For we Christians have never ever got things wrong in the past (best to forget that we once thought that the world was flat, or that women should be kept silent and have no role in ministry).  Indeed, questioning given teachings was never ever something Jesus did…did he?!

    I was reminded of all this recently when I watched the challenging film “The Report”, that set out the harrowing account of the horrific abuses committed by the CIA when using enhanced interrogation techniques (aka torture) after the 9/11 attacks.  Despite the fact that many operatives were really uncomfortable with these techniques, they were ‘strong armed’ into agreeing them as they were only actually legal if they were thought to be working.  To admit that they weren’t working was to question the whole legitimacy of the programme and ultimately the legitimacy of the CIA itself.  They had to believe it and were kicked out if they didn’t.

    It was a ‘hermetically sealed’ argument – with no room whatsoever for dissent.

    Likewise with certain “clear Biblical teachings” that most know cause severe harm – like forcing someone to live a chaste life because they are gay even if they do not have the gift of celibacy.  A ‘hermetically sealed hermeneutic’ peddled by some is that you can only be a true Christian if you believe this, and that any challenge to this teaching is a sure sign that you are unsound.  What’s more, if you insist on pursuing this challenge then you must be rejected by your community.

    If you doubt me, have a look at the UK Evangelical Alliance’s ‘Affirmations’ on how they recommend their member churches and church leaders respond pastorally to questions regarding homosexuality:

    “We believe both habitual homoerotic sexual activity without repentance and public promotion of such activity are inconsistent with faithful church membership. While processes of membership and discipline differ from one church context to another, we believe that either of these behaviours warrants consideration for church discipline.”[1]

    Interestingly, the question of why church leaders are so unable to engage with the evidence of the harm that they have caused is a subject that the Bishop of Oxford, Rt Revd Dr Steven Croft touches on in his recent essay on same-sex relationships, Together in Love and Faith: Personal Reflections and Next Steps for the Church.  In it he movingly acknowledges and apologises for the pain and hurt that the Church has caused so many LGBTQI+ people, asking:

    ‘Why was it so hard to hear the extent of the pain and distress of my fellow Christians?’

    He responds by admitting:

    ‘It is very difficult as a Church leader to acknowledge pain, and discomfort within your own community – especially if you are the cause of that pain or see it as a challenge to deeply held beliefs.  It is much too easy to dismiss the experiences of a small number of individuals as particular to them.’

    In other words, the heart (or, indeed the head) will not hear what it does not want to hear.  It is far easier to dismiss the testimony of one or two individuals as “exceptions”, rather than engage with the truth of their lived experience.  The irony of this approach is that evangelicals tend to thrive on people ‘giving their testimony’ as a way of sharing the impact their faith has had on their lives.

    So why isn’t the lived experience of LGBT+ individuals heard?  Why aren’t the numerous testimonies offered in TV documentaries, research studies, health journals and government reports not heeded and taken onboard?

    I have to say to the Bishop of Oxford that the answer normally lies far deeper than a leader’s inability to accept uncomfortable truths.  For most it lies in their theological understanding of the nature of God, of sin and of judgement. In short, many hold that their religion teaches that these individuals have brought their suffering upon themselves because of their ‘ungodly’ desires.

    This is sadly another example of an ‘hermetically sealed hermeneutic’, which leaves LGBT+ people with no way out.  Evidently, they are hurting because they are ‘ungodly’ and because they are not healed – it is a circular airtight argument that is not open to reason or challenge.

    It is deeply concerning to see such a rigidity of thinking that does not allow for reason, science or human suffering to shape and refine religious teaching!  It is this that the history books will recount and question – why weren’t people’s hearts broken by the evidence of harm that was so clearly being perpetrated?  Why were people who believed in the primacy of love so cruel?

    Perhaps, deep down, the real problem is that they don’t want to have to admit that they have got things badly wrong, because – like the CIA – they would then be held accountable for the horrendous pain and suffering they have inflicted on countless individuals!

    Time will tell.  God alone knows.

    [1] Evangelical Alliance 2012 report Biblical and Pastoral responses to Homosexuality

  • Ways and Means of Differentiation…

    by the Revd Neil Patterson, Director of Vocations & Ordinands in the Diocese of Hereford and Chair of the General Synod Gender & Sexuality Group

    The debate on sexuality in the Church of England is in a curious place as I write.  The College of Bishops has resided, and my social media coverage identifies the Charles Tyrwhitt blue check shirt as a preferred smart-casual choice. Informal reports suggest the predominant preference is for some sort of move forward, but there are many options for how, and more work is being done in readiness for a meeting in December. In the meantime, a few bishops led by Oxford have declared their hands for change, and a good deal of reaction has followed.  And some of us have continued with conversations across the divisions, to try to listen to and understand those with whom we disagree. But above all we are still waiting, and praying for an outcome which is both hopeful and does not lead to a train crash in February. This may be particularly likely if the bishops succumb to the Boris Johnson temptation of both having and eating their cake in the belief that they can choose a positive option for change and not face the division and resistance in Synod that will result.

    The process of listening to conservatives need not happen only in person. The Church of England Evangelical Council have been impressively open with their position and arguments, and you can find it all on their website. In particular, I found myself recently reading their Visibly Different, a briefing paper setting out the case for separate structures (‘visible differentiation’) for those on either side in the sexuality debate. It is not an agreed statement, but is closely allied to others that are. Aside from the expected reiteration of the general conservative position on sexuality, with which you would expect me to disagree, there is a great deal in it that is problematic. The core argument for differentiation (at 5.3.2-6) is based on a seemingly thin understanding of the Church as merely an association for mutual support among Christians, rather than a gift from God in redemption into which we are all incorporated by baptism, whether we choose it or not. Perhaps because it was first written for internal consumption there also feels to be much that amounts to ‘keeping our end up’ in future debate. And the proposals for provincial arrangements appear to be based on a weak and confused understanding of the history of the provinces within the polity of the Church of England.

    Having said all that, however, I want to recognise that the call for visible differentiation comes from brothers and sisters in Christ who are deeply concerned for their future place in the Church, especially as it now seems likely that a majority of the bishops favour a more supportive position on same-sex relationships, and perhaps even marriage. That concern is amplified, as I hear it, by the experience of the somewhat limited structure offered by the See of Ebbsfleet (formerly Maidstone) and the way in which senior appointments appear to be closed to complementarian evangelicals. There may also be a sense that although the Five Guiding Principles are in place and the traditional Catholic movement shows no signs of fading away (a recent New Directions proudly carried interviews with ordinands and curates born since the women priests vote of 1992), their honoured place is undoubtedly in something of a small corner.

    Proposals for differentiation do, however, tend to meet instinctive hostility from many, including bishops, because they seem to offer a pick-and-mix ecclesiology, and to undermine the Church of England’s catholic (in the sense of universal) understanding of its mission – a Christian Presence in Every Place by means of the parish system under dioceses. So, because I am also an enthusiast for ecclesiastical law, I found myself wondering if I could suggest to all concerned another format for differentiation. Are there ways we work as a church across historic boundaries for particular purposes? Yes. There are Bishop’s Mission Orders.

    BMOs, introduced in the Mission and Pastoral Measure 2011, allow for ministries to be created on a cross-parish, and even cross-diocese basis, with a particular remit for mission. There is an (elaborate) process for consultation, but parishes and local clergy cannot necessarily prevent their being formed, and there is provision in existing law for them to have financial arrangements, enable licensing of ministry and synodical representation. It does not seem legally impossible to me for further provision about the reason for the ministry, such as theological conviction, to be added. I should stress that I am not proposing simply using BMOs as presently constituted – but looking to them as the germ of a model that may help us if we face irreconcilable division. It may also be compatible with the suggestion I have heard from one conservative bishop that border-crossing between existing bishops would be preferable to creating new sees.

    An example may help, so let us think of a city in central England with a diversity of church views which I know enough to describe but from which I am distant enough to be forgiven (please!) for simplifying here: Oxford. In that city the diocesan bishop, Steven Croft, has declared his support, in principle, for same-sex marriage. One parish priest in the city, Vaughan Roberts of St Ebbe’s, has responded in disagreement (see both essays here). It seems very possible that, especially if some actual national change does happen, Mr Roberts will be supported by his PCC in finding it impossible to remain under the authority of his bishop. But because +Steven is gracious and generous, he will want to find a way for Vaughan to flourish all the same. So it would be possible to imagine an Order declaring that St Ebbe’s, whose geographical parish is tiny and not particularly relevant to their ministry, is to have a ministry to all in the city of Oxford who cannot receive the oversight of the Bishop of Oxford, and will instead receive ministry from a nearby bishop acceptable to them, perhaps the Bishop of Guildford, who is known to have ‘sound’ views.

    However, let us be even-handed. It may be that the national decision is one of strict opt-in by individual parishes for (say) blessing same-sex couples, with the bishops all collectively standing aloof, so +Steven remains acceptable to St Ebbe’s. It might be that in Oxford only one parish, perhaps the University Church of St Mary the Virgin, wishes to bless same-sex couples. As I can recall from picturesquely beating the bounds as an undergraduate, their parish is also tiny, and not related to the congregation. So that could result in an Order of the opposite nature, declaring them to be the one parish in the city to which same-sex couples are allowed to resort, and placing them under the oversight of a specially identified liberal bishop, perhaps Alan Wilson of Buckingham.

    I hope it is obvious that I am to some extent thinking aloud, and that in reality much more detail would need to be worked out in every place concerned. In particular, the decisions on where Orders might need to be made and who could make them would need to be very carefully assigned, and it is doubtful that anyone would be happy leaving the sort of absolute power in the hands of diocesan bishops that is conferred by a BMO.  Perhaps a carefully constituted national Commission would be needed. But this might, perhaps, be a way to define the rights and positions of churches and people of different convictions that would have legal security without an ecclesiology that looks like schism in all but name.

  • A Peek under the Episcopal Carpet – Past Cases Review 2 and its Blind Spots

    by the Revd. Dr. Brenda Wallace, a former member of General Synod, an active member of Broken Rites, and part of the organising group of the Campaign for Equal Marriage

    Last week, without much fanfare, the Church of England published the Past Cases Review 2. This summarises the thorough investigation into past cases of abuse which have been “swept under the carpet” by church authorities across the country. Time and time again, the need to protect the ‘integrity’ of the organisation has been prioritised over the need to protect the individual victims of abuse.

    The report notes that: ‘The review of the 75,253 files within the scope of PCR2 was conducted by independent reviewers across the dioceses and other church bodies between July 2019 and April 2022. […]  The independent reviewers identified 383 new safeguarding cases relating to children and vulnerable adults’ (p. 11).

    The continued scandal of the sexual abuse of children and vulnerable adults in the Church of England has – rightly – received much attention in recent years, as the Church has been forced by IICSA to wash its dirty linen in public and admit to its persistent failures to protect its most vulnerable members. Despite much handwringing by Bishops and Archbishops, and in General Synod, there is still a long way to go, both to address and redress the past failings, and to create a safer church.

    I don’t want to minimise this appalling record of cover-up of the abuse of children and young people within the church. But I want to draw out two areas of abuse which continue to receive little or no acknowledgement in discussions about safeguarding.

    The first is around the whole issue of human sexuality. Sexual orientation is a protected characteristic under equality legislation. Yet the Church has continued to allow discrimination against LGBTIQA+ members. In over 400 pages, the Living in Love and Faith book only mentions safeguarding twice, briefly, and in both cases, in relation to children. There is no comment on the constant abuse, marginalisation, and exclusion that many gay people receive in their churches and in social media. Pressure by some individuals and organisations for churches to be exempt from proposed government legislation to ban conversion therapy highlights the safeguarding issues and the danger that young people are in within certain church traditions, where attempts to ‘cure’ them of their supposedly aberrant sexuality continue to be practised.

    When the LLF discussions were taking place last year, the Campaign for Equal Marriage ran a series of workshops where those sympathetic to our aims could have a conversation within a safe space about the LLF Report. We heard numerous stories of individuals who had not felt that discussions within their Diocese or local church were a safe space for them to be, and that the Pastoral Principles which were supposed to provide protection were frequently ignored. While taking part in the national Safeguarding training required regularly for all licensed clergy, I raised the question of safeguarding for LGBTIQA+ people within church contexts. Those delivering the course looked puzzled that I even raised the question, and quickly replied that it was not part of the training. Of course, all young people and vulnerable adults need to be protected within the church, but an awareness of the particular vulnerability of young LGBTIQA+ people in our churches appears not to feature.

    The PCR2 report briefly mentions bullying (p. 107), quoting from a case of a priest who was persistently bullied by a member of the congregation and was forced out of post, which the church authorities dealt with inadequately. But there is no mention of numerous recent cases where gay, partnered priests were forced by Bishops to relinquish their licences and their posts because of their desire to marry their partners, the alternative being to live in enforced celibacy. The lack of pastoral care for clergy in many such cases, and the attempts of church authorities to suppress complaints, is well documented. This is yet another area where safeguarding is inadequate, and the institution is protected in preference to the individual.

    The second area which I would like to highlight is the issue of domestic abuse within clergy marriages. This does indeed get a mention in the PCR2 report – three whole pages (pp. 102 ff.)! It wryly notes that ‘The number of domestic abuse cases seems low for the size of the organisation and where allegations are made there is an inconsistent approach to investigating and identifying risks. There were cases where no final outcome was recorded, which could suggest that risks were left unmanaged, and no safeguarding was put in place’ (p. 103).

    In this context, I am writing as a member of Broken Rites, a charity providing mutual support when clergy marriages fall apart, founded in 1983 at the initiative of Frank Field MP. We are an ecumenical organisation with members from other UK Church denominations; it’s obvious that this is not just an Anglican issue. Our broken and bruised members, victims of failed clergy marriages, tell time and time again of the way in which the circumstances of their breakdown have been swept under the carpet by church authorities. These spouses, the majority of whom are women, have often suffered decades of physical or emotional abuse, coercive control, or narcissistic behaviour. Others have seen their marriage ripped apart by adulterous relationships by their priest partner. While marriage breakdown is always painful, it is particularly so for clergy spouses who have to leave their home in the vicarage, their own role within the church and its supportive network, and fight for financial support for themselves and any children. Some have to find paid employment for the first time, after many years of faithfully supporting their clergy partner’s parish work. Whatever their situation, they face being forced out of most of their familiar settings to make a fresh start, while recovering from the trauma of an abusive or broken relationship.

    The Church does now make some practical support and financial provision for separated clergy spouses, but the support is patchy and poorly signposted, and inconsistent across the country. In many cases, the offending priest gets to stay in post and in the clergy house, whilst the spouse is the one to move out. Even more patchy is the pastoral and emotional support for the departing spouse. Once again, the Church protects its own and has prioritised the safeguarding of the Church’s reputation rather than the individual. This is not the space to tell my own story, simply to note that I talk from personal experience.

    The stories we hear through Broken Rites are only a few – the stories of women and men who have had the courage to break away, despite the emotional and financial cost. We have no idea how many more continue to suffer because of the pressure to hold on to their marriage vows no matter what, and because of the lack of awareness of the problems by church authorities. Allegations of abuse by their partners have been repeatedly ignored or downplayed.

    PCR2 has taken a peek under the carpet and found a massive pile of debris. But, if you will excuse the mixed metaphor, there’s still an awful lot of muck left in the Augean stable under the episcopal floor-covering.

  • Getting Hot under the Collar about Sex

    by Mother Fiona Jack, curate at St.Barnabas, Ealing and member of General Synod

    A motion to urge the government to take action to limit children’s access to pornography was passed with an overwhelming majority at the July sessions of General Synod. There was also a recommendation for programmes to increase awareness of its pernicious influence on the young. There’s currently an Online Safety Bill at Committee stage in Parliament; if passed, it will go some way to bringing in legislation to address the problem. No-one, I imagine, would take issue with this; we heard evidence from professionals, parents and confessors attesting to the damage done when children access age-inappropriate material.

    I have a particular interest in this as, in my other life, I run a qualitative research business. Recently, we conducted a study for a major platform provider on the same topic. We discovered that not only do children access 18+ sites, but they are often more tech-savvy than their parents and can circumvent parental controls because they know their parent’s login and password details. The issue is much broader, however, than pornography. Equally harmful for children is violent content or horror. I remember my own daughter (despite warnings from me) watching a horror film with a 15 rating when she was about 12. She discovered, to her regret, why such films are not recommended for younger children. As well as horror and violence, online gambling and other online purchases can present problems: not only can children manipulate their parents’ email accounts, but they sometimes have their bank and credit card details and can run up large bills through online purchases of – for example – computer games, which also sometimes have violent or other adult content.

    Given this potential broader remit, I was somewhat disturbed that the debate in Synod focussed on pornography, to the exclusion of these other risks to children’s mental health and well-being. Coupled with other debates in Synod and the subsequent furore around same-sex relationships and marriage at the Lambeth Conference, this led me to reflect on why, as a Church, we seem to have sex on the brain. The overriding narrative from the Church seems to be that sexual sin is more serious than any other. What about the many other besetting sins of our age? Why don’t we hear much about pride, greed, envy or anger?

    I would argue – and I don’t think this is particularly contentious – that the underlying message of the Gospels is love. We hear plenty about agape love, certainly, the kind of selfless love a parent has for their child or the love God has for us. In the Church, we’re all comfortable with this kind of love. Love is OK as long as it’s pure and spiritual, right?

    There’s also the eros kind of love though, as so breathtakingly portrayed in the Song of Songs. What is it about the eros kind of love that makes some people in the Church get so hot under the collar? Being embodied is part of our identity – we are not built or intended to be pure spirit either on this or the other side of the grave – have you noticed how nobody talks about the resurrection of the body these days? We interact in the world for good or ill with our bodies. In a lecture entitled “Towards a Christian Sexual ethic for the 21st century”, the Revd Dr Carla Grosch-Miller pointed out quite rightly that the only function of the female clitoris is pleasure. If we believe we are fearfully and wonderfully made by our Creator, then we can only assume that enjoyment of sex was part of God’s plan for women in the first place. And for how many centuries have women who have enjoyed sex been thought of as whores – not to mention the cultures which still practise FGM for this very reason?

    There can be no more beautiful expression of love than the joy of sexual union between two people who love each other in the context of a committed relationship – and that’s equally true for heterosexual and homosexual couples. If we theologise sex into something shameful and sinful, then we deny a fundamental part of what it is to be human, and life becomes beige not red-blooded. In the words of the Song of Songs: ‘Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it’. If we are fortunate enough to find this kind of love in our lives, we might find in it a window into the love of God which is both passionate and fervent, full of desire and longing, eros as well as agape. Sadly, we are taught not to want certain things or certain people: we don’t choose who we love – how much easier would life be if that were the case?

    Going back to our starting point, our children must be protected from all kinds of harm online, not just pornography. Over-emphasis on sexual sin can make us look like people for whom it is always Lent and never Easter (Pope Francis) or like Narnia without Aslan where it’s always winter and never Christmas. Here’s a radical thought: instead of disapproving attitudes and a tone of moral outrage towards the secular world and our fellow Christians, what if the Church were to send a message of understanding and encouragement, a message that speaks of joy and hope even in the midst of suffering? Perhaps then we’d be following in the footsteps of Jesus Christ.

     

  • Two Things Which Really Matter

    by the Very Revd Dr David Ison, former member of General Synod, who next month retires as Dean of St Paul’s 

    This is my last blog as Dean of St Paul’s. After 43 years of stipendiary ordained ministry, it’s time to let go of doing in order to do more being. I’m glad to make space for a younger generation of Christians to have the opportunity and responsibility to lead Christ’s church into the future. And I’m hopeful for them, and even for the Church of England, because there are many wonderful lay and ordained Christians committed to following Jesus, and that’s what Christian churches need in order to face the many challenges and crises coming to a head for this country and for humanity across the globe as capitalism and imperialism reap what they’ve sown.

    Over the last four decades there are two key things which I’ve learned which I think are at the heart of what Christian faith, mission and ministry are about.

    The first is how to do church and mission in an increasingly pluralist and contested public space, where the narrative of ‘scientism’ (that the universe, however amazing, is meaningless) undermines spiritual as well as mental health and reasonable faith, leading to superstition and extremism. The Church has lost plausibility, made worse by its failures of safeguarding and its moral divergence from what many people regard as reasonable. The Church’s temptation is either to take refuge in dogma and draw hard boundaries around itself as ‘counter-cultural’, or to become just one interest group alongside others competing in the market-place for people and resources. The ‘Save the Parish’ movement is a belated response to a crisis which was known to be coming long before I trained for ministry in the 1970s, as the inability of many parishes to maintain numbers of laity and clergy and financial viability in the face of heritage building costs and other challenges has been predicted for over 50 years.

    My experience of what works in mission is fairly simple. It is to pray – to love God; to love our neighbours by serving them inside and especially outside the church; to love one another as a diverse group of disciples; and to do these things together, building a shared vision for a loving and serving church. Being people of spiritual integrity, living in the truth, welcoming other people without judgement (see Matthew chapter 7), meeting them in their personal and community needs – that’s what attracts people to the Christian gospel. In an incarnational faith, it’s Christian lives, not doctrines or techniques, that build the kingdom of God.

    I’ve never understood the emphasis in the Church of England’s ordination services on ‘proclaiming’ the gospel, as if it were passed on by megaphone. The third-century Christian writer Tertullian pointed out that the Christian community attracted people, even though it could mean persecution and death, because they could see the love which Christians had for one another and for others, and they wanted to be part of it. Proclaiming isn’t of value in itself: it’s drawing people into following Jesus (‘making disciples’) that matters, and love in action, not words, is at the heart of it. And thanks be to God that many churches and Christians do it!

    Jesus says to his would-be disciples, ‘you will know the truth and the truth will make you free’ (John 8.32). It’s that living in integrity that people respond to; and the heart of the Church’s problem is that it hasn’t been living in love and integrity. The inability of heterosexual men to cope with their own sexualities has led to the projection of those inner conflicts on to others including in the Church, impacting women and children in safeguarding cases, sexual and domestic violence, and ongoing legal and cultural discrimination against women and LGBTQ+ people. The Church’s ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ culture of official disapproval but covert acceptance of sexuality has had a huge impact on the lives and mental health of LGBTQ ordained and lay ministers, and has perpetuated a culture of dishonesty and lack of accountability which has allowed other abuses to occur, as seen for example in the surfacing of safeguarding cases over the last decade and the recent news around fraud in the Diocese of London. Whatever the outcome of the Living in Love and Faith process and debates in General Synod, the Church must end up with real love, truth and honesty at its heart, lest it continue to be seen by the rest of the world as hypocritically less moral than the majority of our society.

    The second main thing I’ve learned in ministry is that it’s about following Jesus. That sounds obvious! But it relates to the question of integrity. Years ago I wrote an article entitled ‘The Pharisees will always get you in the end’, making the point that the Pharisees are there in the gospels to show us what we as religious people can be like when our religion becomes more important than God and people. In his encounters with the Pharisees, Jesus subverts the dogmas of his day: healing on the sabbath, being unconcerned with purity laws, forgiving sinners without due process – he is focused on the person and their motivation and relationship with God, rather than on the expectations of others. Jesus is still challenging, but he gets to the heart while the Pharisees look at the outside; Jesus is concerned with holiness rather than purity, while Pharisees then and now confuse the two.

    The Diocese of London has for a number of years had as a unifying statement the concept of ‘Generous Orthodoxy’. It’s akin to ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ in that it allows Christians with very different views to agree on a slogan while not engaging with their real differences, with people putting differing emphases on the level of generosity and the content of what orthodoxy is. My experience of church politics in London and on General Synod has been of increasing power games over the last several years, based on churchmanship and dogma rather than on the reality of people’s lived Christian experience, with less powerful groups (including LGBTQ, Global Majority Heritage, disabled, women) being pushed to the margins, and a lack of integrity between what’s said and what is actually done in practice.
    There’s a tendency in the Church, following after the world’s culture, for extremism and division which does not reflect the love of God, and which is unbecoming to followers of Jesus and unattractive to Christians and non-Christians alike.

    My hope in Christ is that everyone matters equally in the Church, and that’s what the LLF process has been trying to pursue. I pray for the outcome to be love and to be really truthful, centred on people not dogma. The irony about so many of the arguments in church circles is that much of the language about judgement in the New Testament is about our actions and their outcomes, not concerned with our beliefs and doctrines: ‘by their fruits you shall know them’. I do wonder whether some who describe themselves as ‘biblical’ have really taken on board St Paul’s words on love in 1 Corinthians 13…

    When finally, in the words of a key fob my children gave me, I ‘get called to head office’, I don’t expect to be examined on my understanding of penal substitution, but on whether I truly loved God, and my neighbours as myself. That’s what really matters.

  • Lambeth: Colonialism, Power and Pawns

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

     

    It’s fair to say that the Lambeth Conference hasn’t – I think – worked out quite the way the Archbishop wanted it to. For months – years, even – we were told that it would focus on the things we share in common, rather than digging the sexuality hole all over again. Much water has gone under the bridge since 1998, and the facts on the ground show that Lambeth I:10 is no longer a serious statement of how things are within the communion. That ship has sailed.

    Yet there it was – that pernicious and unhelpful 1998 resolution – back in view as the Archbishop released his Calls, for which one could vote yes, or ‘sort of yes’, but not ‘no’. And now the Lambeth Calls team – a seemingly impenetrable (and very male) group unable to answer simple questions like who finalised the calls, or did the Archbishop see them before publication – have had to strike the totally unnecessary and divisive ‘reaffirmation’ of Lambeth I:10 from the drafts. It didn’t have to be this way. Someone made the choice that it should be – and whoever that is (and we may never find out, given the disgraceful lack of transparency) should really take some basic lessons in crisis management and avoidance.

    Of course, we are where we are. We find ourselves in a place where the damage has mostly been done, yet only a naïve Anglican-watcher would believe that the story ends here. We await more manoeuvrings, more angry words and more kicking around of LGBTQI people as the political football they so conveniently and often are for the Church of England.

    Yet out of the ashes of this monumental bin-fire, some good has come. For once, LGBTQI people have heard bishops – yes, really – standing up for them. Strong, prophetic, pro-LGBTQI voices have come from across the pond, but also from provinces outside of the US and Canada. Even in our own Church of England, a number of bishops have also stood up and been counted. This is a most welcome sign, and one which I hope and believe will be reflected once again during the conclusion of LLF. Perhaps this is the turning point. That said, those bishops who chose silence – remember, silence is never a neutral position – have also cemented their place in the history books when this sorry saga is finally over. This was not a time for behind-the-scenes machinations – LGBTQI people, and their tears, need to be seen, acknowledged, loved. Not to even bother sympathising with the pain of LBGTQI people – whatever episcopal theological perspective is held – is inexplicable.

    Yet there have been two quite malign themes that have been flowing through the dialogue from those who oppose LBGTQI liberation. The first, which is quite simply not true, is that young people are drawn to churches with an oppressive view on LGBTQI people and marriage. There is absolutely zero evidence that this is the case, but – as usual – if you say it loudly, robustly and often enough, people start to believe it. The key thing, of course, is that even where these ‘conservative’ churches have more young people in them, that doesn’t account for the millions of kids and young people who don’t go to any church. Are we seriously arguing that they are more likely to attend a church which tells them that their queer friends – or they themselves – shouldn’t get married? That is likely to be about as welcome to them as sticking pins in their eyes. Only an inward-facing church would reserve its rejoicing for those who are already within the tent. Meanwhile, LGBTQI people (and increasingly their allies, friends, relatives) are failed and won’t come within a mile of a church, however good the music or lighting.

    But the second line that has been taken relates to colonialism. This one takes more unpacking but, once it is unpacked, the deeply unchristian and disingenuous ground beneath it begins to reveal itself.

    Noises have been made – and were made, during the recent discussions to nominate more people from around the communion to the CNC – that a western church favouring LBGTQI inclusion should not dictate to the rest of the communion. It has been for this reason – however well intentioned – that nobody (or at least, almost nobody) in the Church of England’s hierarchy appears to have felt able to say anything positive about LGBTQI people or their marriages. There is – and there should be – a real sensitivity to colonialist language and actions from those in the Church of England. Racism and colonialism remain deeply embedded in our church. The problem is that the recent solution at General Synod – strongly supported by the Archbishop of York – will do nothing whatsoever to address this.

    The reality is that the Anglican Communion – or rather, a Communion that claims ‘by right’ that the role of primus inter pares belongs to the Archbishop of Canterbury – is institutionally racist and colonialist. It doesn’t matter how many people you add to the Canterbury CNC (and please note, the point that the new members from the Communion won’t have a majority was trumpeted as good news, a deeply concerning example of white power not quite being given up): so long as the Archbishop of the Province of Canterbury inevitably remains the head (using that term with much caution) of the Communion, we are stuck. England rules the waves. The change was nothing more than deckchairs on the Titanic – not that you would have gathered that from the crowing in the aftermath of the General Synod debate.

    Both LGBTQI people and Anglicans from the Global South are being reduced to pawns in a nasty little English power struggle. The fact is that whilst the Archbishop has an inevitable Communion role, the Church of England has no leadership of its own. Yet what is also true is that whilst England holds the position it does in the Communion, there will always be the risk of colonialism. That’s not about LGBTQI people – it’s about the underlying structures and nature of the Communion itself. It suits those who oppose LBGTQI liberation to focus on the ‘Communion’ role of the Archbishop – but this is nothing whatsoever to do with the lives of ordinary Global South Anglicans – it is all about power. In this worst of both possible worlds, England is silent – and yet holds all the strings.

    TEC, Canada and the rest did indeed make a big stink about what happened with the Lambeth calls – as they should have. This was not because they were forcing their will on the assembly but because they were advocating for their queer disciples against a Call sprung upon them with no notice, and against which they could not vote. Bait and switch. Those who opposed them were welcome to disagree. The issue is that the President of the Lambeth Conference – the person who takes ultimate responsibility – is … the Archbishop of Canterbury. It’s Colonialism 101. It is surely time for that to change – yet so often the English people calling ‘colonialism’ to beat down LBGTQI people are the same as those calling for the Archbishop’s primus role to remain. It is all about power.

    It is now time to call an end to the pitting of LBGTQI Christians against the Global South. We need a root and branch review of how we operate, and to reimagine the Communion for the twenty-first century. We must lay down our claim to power and instead move to a communion built on true equality, solidarity, friendship and companionship. Yes, people may leave – from all directions. But at least it will be built on honesty, and not on the backs of the oppressed.

    Ends, not means, as Kant once said. If we can’t do that as a church, then we cease to be a church at all.

     

     

  • Equal Marriage: The Argument Has Moved On…

    by the Revd Neil Patterson, Director of Vocations & Ordinands in the Diocese of Hereford and Chair of the General Synod Gender & Sexuality Group

    Readers of this blog may recall that in 2021 I wrote about the motion passed by Hereford Diocesan Synod in 2017 calling for services of prayer and dedication for same-sex couples, and the possible ways in which it might lead to a diversity of practice in the Church of England.  The idea has received a decent amount of comment, both positive and negative, but I returned from the recent General Synod at York wondering if everyone has now moved on to a different page.  Increasingly it feels as if everyone wants to talk about marriage, whether its unchangeability, or that it should be opened to same-sex couples.  There are many aspects to this, but I want to mention just three, and then consider where this may lead us as a Church.

    The first is that the social backdrop to our discussions has changed.  Same-sex marriage has only been a legal reality in England since 2014, and even when the Hereford motion was in the planning, it still seemed to at least some of us that same-sex relationships were not quite the same as marriages, whether from tradition or familiarity with the ‘similar-but-different’ civil partnerships.  Now, however, the language of marriage for same-sex couples – including the easy use of ‘husband’ and ‘wife’ – has become completely normalised in society and the media.  In itself that does not, of course, have any specific consequences for Christians judging what is right in the sight of God.  But it does mean that the existing rich Christian imagery of marriage as the form of permanent covenant, symbolising God’s faithfulness to his people, now appeals naturally as a way to express the faithfulness of Christian same-sex relationships.  And this is all the more so when, as in the gay male world, monogamous faithfulness can sometimes appear a minority option.

    The second related shift arises from reflections I have heard on the Hereford motion proposal.  On the one hand, there is a fear that in a politically difficult and divided Church, if it were to be approved, it would – like other settlements in the past – prove difficult to move on from, leaving same-sex partnered Anglicans in England trapped in permanent second-best.  On the other hand, precisely because it would seem unsatisfactory, the Church could be trapped in ongoing years of wrangling between those seeking, and those opposing, further change.  The official recognition (even if not ‘blessing’, as the motion makes clear) of a class of relationships outside marriage also raises wider questions.  Perhaps raising these questions is not the best way towards stability and the much-needed focus on mission and growth in the Church.  Both these two shifts of emphasis were evident in a fringe meeting at Synod of the Gender and Sexuality Group of those campaigning for change, and I write about them here to share the listening from that meeting and continue the dialogue.

    One of the benefits of General Synod, though, is the chance to talk with those from other viewpoints whom one knows through unrelated connections like (in my case) discernment work, or revising legislation.  Some of those I talked to are connected to the Church of England Evangelical Council, who have set out in public papers on their website their arguments against any recognition of same-sex relationships by the Church.  The striking thing, both from these conversations and their most recent film output, is that they do not see the compromise of some sort of service for same-sex couples as particularly helpful.  If the Church recognises same-sex sexual relationships in any way, then that is the conscience-invoking point for them.  Such relationships might as well be marriages as anything else, and indeed if they were marriages then this would avoid the complexity of recognising a different category of relationships, a category that would complicate expectations for opposite-sex couples.  Of course their strongest conviction is against any official recognition of same-sex couples at all.

    What does this mean for the outcome of the Living in Love & Faith process?  Well, it means that the bishops, meeting residentially three times in the autumn, probably have a headache.  But it may mean that, somewhat to my own surprise, the debate is shifting: it is not about how the Church of England will recognise same-sex couples, but about when it will allow equal marriage.  The headache, though, is how to make that possible for those of us who seek it (both for ourselves and for the Church) and those whose consciences will not allow it.  A helpful comment from one of my conservative colleagues was that, as a minister, he believed that he had a duty to teach that same-sex relationships were not only something undesirable which he would not want to do, or have in his church, but that they are positively harmful.  I disagree, obviously, but that is not going to make any difference to his convictions.  The challenge is to consider what degree of fellowship would be possible from such a stance with those of us adopting equal marriage.

    My sincere hope is that we can learn from the 1980s, when very much the same questions arose around the ordination of women, and spend fewer years struggling to find a solution which is comparably unsatisfactory for all concerned.  The controversy today about the draft Lambeth Call is also a reminder that whatever path we take, we do so against an established diversity in the Anglican Communion. Whatever contribution they make to the debates at Lambeth, I pray that the bishops of the Church of England will return to the task in the autumn renewed in the value of diversity, and ready to seek a way forward with imagination and vigour.