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Category: General Synod

  • Jagged Edges: Where Safeguarding Overlaps with the Trust Deficit

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

    (picture credit: BBC/Yourkevich)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Back to July’s Synod. GS 2408 notes that

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

    and:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     

     

     

  • Consensus, Compassion, Truth, and Grace

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    (picture credit: BBC/Yourkevich)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     

  • On Being Conservative

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     

     

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Ongoing concerns amidst a backdrop of conflict and uncertainty

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Unhelpful cultures

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

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

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

    Moving forward

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

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

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

  • Surprise, Surprise: More Delay on Living in Love and Faith

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

    There is a meme video online, featuring Cilla Black, singing the chorus to her famous ‘Surprise Surprise’. It’s usually in the context of poor customer service, or something else inevitable happening, and out bursts Cilla singing Surprise, Surprise! I wish I wasn’t quite so childish, but when the delay to LLF was announced yesterday, this was the first thing that came to mind. Because if the House of Bishops is one thing, it is predictable – predictably hopeless at doing what General Synod requires of them, again and again, to do. Predictably hopeless at getting on with it.

    Of course, the story behind the delay is a little more complicated than the rather cold press release made out. That press release was a classic of its genre – not a single word there apologising to General Synod members, let alone LGBTQIA people, about the delay. No recognition of how painful this will be. No compassion whatsoever. And, as ever, no context. So perhaps let’s dig into that a bit.

    Firstly, it is abundantly clear that there are forces at play – a blob, if you like – that are determined to slow down and ultimately frustrate any change. This blob is not the central team working on LLF, who are doing their darndest to make stuff happen. The blob isn’t even the official Alliance, who are simply determined to block everything everywhere. The blob is instead silly little bit part players, sitting on papers, stirring the pot, facilitating and fomenting delay. But the House of Bishops is not defenceless and passive in all this – and it is time for them to steel their nerves and force a decision.

    The delaying tactics are now being firmly targeted in the direction of clergy same-sex/gender marriage – the last piece in the jigsaw, and hence the thing to ensure is held up as long as humanly possible. The current clever ruse is endless calls for ‘more theology’. Leaving aside the fact that there is rather a lot of theology already done on this (and bishops might like to remember that this conversation has been had, in many places, including in other Anglican provinces),  and the fact that this is really a matter of policy rather than theology, these calls for more theology are now plainly nothing more than a delaying tactic. I am sick to the back teeth of being in meetings where nice, warm-smiled bishops say, ‘if only we could make a decision, but we need the theology to be done’. Can-kicking of the very best kind.

    There is such a level of dishonesty in all this, and the worrying thing is that – like the emperor’s new clothes – members of the House of Bishops seem utterly unwilling to publicly name it, even though in private no such qualms exist. The goal posts are being endlessly shifted; decision making is being tripped up time after time; intransigence is the name of the game, and each time it feels like we might be getting close to a decision, up pops another ‘reason’ that a decision must be delayed. It’s grotesque. And it’s sheer politics.

    So the reason that a delay in the process has been called is purely and simply because the House is endlessly putting off a decision on same-sex marriage for clergy. The Prayers of Love and Faith are sorted – already commended, in fact, and the ‘request’ not to do them in a ‘standalone service’ is only that, a request (and, of course, a ‘standalone service’ is a made-up nonsense anyway). There is a plan around delegating episcopal ministry – in my view, entirely unnecessary, but it seems this is where the bishops are ending up. But the House knows that this ‘delegated episcopal ministry’ will not get through General Synod unless and until clergy are permitted to enter into same-sex marriages and people in such marriages enabled to enter the vocations process (actually permitted, not some ridiculous ‘in principle’ decision) and the despicable Issues in Human Sexuality is rescinded. It is positive that the House recognises this. The problem is that they need to get on with making a decision – and they seem endlessly unable to do so.

    The thing is, everyone knows that there has actually already been a decision made on this! This is another depressing feature of the LLF process – we are told the sky is green, and despite the evidence to the contrary, everyone seems to nod along. For months we’ve been told that the Pastoral Guidance for clergy entering into same-sex marriage hasn’t been drafted – which is a lie. I know it’s a lie, because I commented on said draft. We are told that it’s just ‘theologians being theologians, and theologians take time’, and this is why papers haven’t been written. It’s simply not true – the truth is that the House, and the attendant blob, keep moving the goal posts.

    Some of you will have received the news with what might best be described as cold, hard, fury. I will admit that this is precisely how I feel. Some of you, however, might meet the news with a shrug of the shoulders, because of course this has happened. I share some of that feeling too. Let’s be honest, it is rather hard to have much faith in the House of Bishops, if any. That is not new.

    What is new, however, is that with this latest delay, the House of Bishops are getting dangerously close to being genuinely faithless. There is only so long that people can hold on to some kind of hope at things getting better, and I fear we are now at breaking point. Synod has spoken, a number of times, and the House has dawdled and engaged in handwringing. Enough is enough.

    What we need now is delivery. We don’t need more prevaricating, we don’t need more meetings, we don’t need more warm smiles, we don’t need more obfuscation, we don’t need more kicking it down the road, we don’t need more anxiety over numbers bleeding into disrespect for the lives and loves of LGBTQIA Christians. We don’t, indeed, need more theology. We need you to get on with it, for the love of God, and for the love of God’s people.

    The House of Bishops first needs to recognise that the way they are engaging in this process is ultimately a question of basic morality, and their approach is immoral. They also need to formally make two decisions – the first being to actively stop any further demand for ‘more theology’ or whatever other delaying tactic is in play, and the second is to corporately rescind the nasty, theologically desperate 2014 statement banning clergy from entering same-sex marriage (which, let’s remember, only a minority even agrees with, and which has essentially zero force beyond ‘good boy’ politics and could be ignored right now if a single diocesan bishop had the nerve), and make the positive statement that same-sex married clergy are a good and holy group of people, able to pastor beautifully and brokenly just like any others, and free them into this ministry. And this needs to be done this year. We all know the most recent piece of ‘theological work’ is nearing completion and a decision can then be made. The bishops need to make a commitment to it and do it.

    It is perfectly possible for there to be a November Synod. It is perfectly possible for them to do this. It would have been perfectly possible, indeed, for them to do this by July – but they baulked.

    Enough of this, now. It is no small wonder that people have lost trust in the bishops and don’t believe a word they say. You can hardly complain people don’t trust you if you endlessly break their trust.

    So, the only path forward is clear. Bishops, commit to a decision on clergy marriage on a specific date the moment the current iteration of ‘theological work’ is done, which we know is soon, and keep to that commitment, come what may. Call a November Synod, and implement that decision then. Put the package to a vote this year. Don’t feed us ‘in principle’ gruel on marriage – the moment this formal decision is made, licences should be restored, ordinands should enter training, and the House should corporately apologise for taking so long to get this done. Legally watertight measures can follow, if necessary, but practical action must be immediate.

    We, LGBTQIA clergy, have played by the rules for quite long enough now. Not a single thing of any substance has been done about the clearly non-canonical behaviours illustrated in the summer. Yet, after years and years of promises, still, capable, holy, decent LGBTQIA people are being barred from ministry and having their licenses smacked away from them because of prevarication and anxiety-laden avoidance. It is dangerously close to feeling more than a little malevolent.

    It’s decision time, folks. Bishops, respectfully, get on with it, now. You really can – but you need to choose to do so. If you don’t, you will turn crisis into catastrophe. And you will only have yourselves to blame.

  • The Church is What We Do Next 

    by Gilo,  co-editor with Janet Fife of the book Letters to a Broken Church, and co-creator of the House of Survivors website. He is also a hymn writer.

    I recently saw Conclave at my local cinema. If you haven’t read the Robert Harris novel, and don’t want to be handed the crux of the story – avoid looking up any online reviews. They nearly all give spoilers. So I won’t reveal any here, other than one pivotal moment when a cardinal makes a quietly impassioned call to the other cardinals in the midst of heated debate, “The church is not tradition. The church is not the past. The church is what we do next.”

    The church is what we do next. Upon such a fulcrum of gravitas where promise and danger meet in equal portion is where the Church of England now stands. Almost every senior bishop who might be considered for the role of Archbishop of Canterbury is likely to have legacy ghosts trailing in their wake and waiting to haunt them. This is not a political statement, nor particularly an anti-bishop one, but rather a statement of probable fact. If the Church and especially the Crown Nominations Commission (CNC) do not exercise rigorous scrutiny in this appointment, you can be sure the media will.

    Any senior bishops being considered for the role will need to have searing honesty with regard to their safeguarding history. Have they blanked survivors or denied disclosures? Have they evaded necessary and crucial questions? Have they deployed the standard institutional responses of silencing and blanking? Have they been party to the burial of things which they know should not have been buried? Have they hidden reviews under lock and key? (I know of at least one current diocesan who has done so in recent years.) Have they rested easy in quiet complicity with any bad cultures of Church House or Lambeth Palace when their position of power and privilege offered opportunity to speak up and act? In truth, the standout voice has been that of the Bishop of Newcastle. She alone has spoken fearless truth to frightened power and has from all reports met with a lack of support. Other bishops, especially senior ones, have lacked even basic courage in comparison.

    This is the reality the Church finds itself in: the CNC may sleepwalk the Church into fresh crisis simply by assuming that senior bishops are transparent in any assertion that all is well with them and that no skeletons will emerge to plunge the Church deeper into damage. Some of them are possibly too hubristic to care much.  Unaccountable power tends to breed a hubristic attitude. Some perhaps imagine that what has been successfully buried in the past will stay buried. It won’t.

    Increasingly my own view is that the next occupant of St Augustine’s Chair might need to be an interim figure. Someone who can hold the Church to its promises and critical decisions throughout this year and during the next few. But not necessarily someone attempting to usher in any ‘Grand Plan’. Lambeth Palace and the Church probably need a rest from any big Welby-esque strategic vision. Maybe five years max in the post. Deep elder wisdom required. Someone who has not necessarily been in much position of power to bury anything. Someone from the edge. Someone with a deep understanding, heart of compassion, and wisdom. Possibly a retiring suffragan. The late great Alan Wilson would have been such a figure. He was unique and I’m not sure we will see his like again. But imagine if he’d been Archbishop leading up to his retirement, with a brief to begin the vital rescue of the Church. With Rosie Harper alongside him as Chaplain and partner in the project of institutional  transformation. He had the chutzpah to speak right over the heads of the agents of resistance and obvious institutional corruption. Crucially, he and Rosie had shared the journey of survivors for a decade or more, and gathered the threads in their groundbreaking To Heal and Not to Hurt. Alan would have stood sentinel to the beginning of root and branch reform and insisted upon a much more honest Church of England built upon the keystones of systemic transparency and truthfulness.

    It’s clear that the CofE will undergo considerable and necessary change over the next decade, with hopefully a return to a much more locally focussed Church and away from the two-tiered Church of struggling parish over against the weight of privileged and unaccountable power. The next Archbishop will need a depth of wisdom that almost none of the current senior bishops seem capable of demonstrating, to guide the start of that process. Crucially, they will need to embody a focus of real energy across CofE on setting the safeguarding and response to survivors on to a genuinely healing and restorative path.

    When Channel 4’s Cathy Newman summed up the John Smyth scandal as showing that ‘the church had neither process nor kindness’, Justin Welby had no option but to agree. The next Archbishop will need to be someone who can insist upon right process matched with great kindness, and who can publicly and decisively call all structures which govern every aspect of the response to survivors to follow that lead. Transparency is the essential cornerstone of such a move. But transparency is destined to fail when touted publicly by Archbishops whilst figures hidden in the corridors of power work to mitigate against it. For transparency to work, for it to bring any possible redemption of the Church’s reputation, everyone needs to face in the same direction and sing from the same hymn sheet. And the act of kindnessing will need to be apparent throughout.

    Realistically, any implementation of structural independence is likely to be complex and require more than a few years to achieve. If this is rushed as a reactive response to the mess the Church is in, will only lead to further meltdown and confusion. So I posit some crucial first steps along the way for a possible interim Archbishop. I imagine an experienced suffragan with the strength of purpose to focus on the following:

    1. Call an EGM of Synod
    2. Support Tanni Grey-Thompson’s Mandatory Reporting bill currently in passage in the House of Lords, and call for that support across the House of Bishops and Synod.
    3. Ensure the Redress Scheme begins this year, is fair and just, and not any kind of rerun of toxic Ecclesiastical Insurance tactics.
    4. Sort out the undeniable mess of Archbishops’ Council and its wholly unaccountable Secretariat. Sackings required, even if key personnel demand immorally high severance packages. The Secretary General is unlikely to leave without a wheelbarrow of cash. So be it. But go he must.
    5. Call all of Church House and NCI staff publicly to transparency. Ditto to all bishops/dioceses. Transparency must be the watchword of the Church going forward.
    6. With this in mind, introduce the Nolan Principles into public life across the Church. Bishops and key staff are public office holders and should be required to commit to principles of accountability and integrity.
    7. Work with key parliamentarians to bring the Church quickly under Freedom of Information regulation.

    In fact, with grit and determination, I think all of these could be achieved in Year 1. Ceasing to be ‘pope’ of the Anglican Communion will free up time and energy, and allow for focus on recovery of the broken Church. If this 7-point plan was achieved, it would be a job well done, and would pave the way to longer-term repair after the turbulence of the last decade. The Church’s only chance of repair will be the measure to which it commits to the repair of those it has harmed and re-harmed.

    If the CNC chooses business as usual and Lambeth Palace ends up with someone who represents the fearful milquetoast culture we’ve seen in the bishops of recent months, then the Church is likely to fold in on itself and travel deeper towards its own shabby diminishing. If, on the other hand, they choose an unexpected and unknown elder of wisdom it may be that the Church will have a much better future after he or she has gone. The reset of the Church of England depends on the initial year or two of the next Archbishop and the vision and determination and public grit they bring to laying the groundwork.

    Any of the obvious diocesans – York, London, Oxford and others – will in various ways represent a Church of broken promises, complicity with cruel structures and reliance upon reputation management. If the CNC looks to them, the Church will rue the day. The current grim state of affairs will deepen. Let us hope the CNC (which has awkward ghosts of its own which need to be sorted) will find the boldness to choose with extraordinary care. “The Church is what we do next.”

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • 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.