ViaMedia

Category: Human Sexuality

  • Bishops: Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are!

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

    Silence is a killer.

    Taking the “I don’t want to rock the boat, so I won’t say anything” approach to life only ever emboldens perpetrators and leaves victims undefended and open to abuse.

    Which is why we need our leaders to have the moral courage and backbone to say what they think, no matter who they offend or disappoint, or how many friends they might lose in the process.

    It’s what we’ve witnessed this week when governments have demanded  Russian oligarchs “come off the fence” and say what they think about their friend, Putin’s, strategy regarding Ukraine.  We’ve seen it with certain football managers, and we’ve even seen it at the Met Opera in New York, where Russian soprano Anna Netrbko was dropped because of her failure to speak out and distance herself from the Russian President.

    You see, you cannot sit on the fence for ever – you will ultimately be called on it.

    And so it is with our House of Bishops, most of whom appear to have taken a vow of silence over where they each stand on issues to do with LGBT+ matters.  Issues affecting 1000s of LGBT+ people’s lives, their friends’ & families’ lives and millions of non-church goers in their diocese.

    So why do they stay so precariously perched?

    Well their reasons seem so laudable: “they don’t want to split the church” (please note, it’s already split!), they want “to be a bishop for all those in their diocese” (really? have they bothered to ask whether their LGBT+ members think they are a bishop who understands what they are going through?) or they “don’t want to add to the problems in the Anglican Communion” (as if their decision would really have that much impact!).

    Perhaps the truthful reason is that they don’t want the aggro of having to deal with some of the really vocal, nasty and vociferous homophobic and transphobic members in their midst.  Bottom line, they don’t want to appear to be “unsound” to certain clergy, or indeed even their peers.  Perhaps they are scared of the consequences? Or maybe they erroneously think that somehow by staying silent everyone will in fact think they are “everyone’s bishop”.

    I hate to break it to them, but do they really think we are that stupid?

    The only people who get hurt by their silence are young LGBT+ people (as well as those who are not so old) growing up in conservative churches where they are constantly told that who they are is unacceptable and that they must therefore deny themselves, “take up their cross” (which their heterosexual leaders never will) and change. No, not for them the joy of love and intimacy – they must never ever experience the gift of giving love and being loved by another human being.

    Of course, most bishops take their stance from their homes where they celebrate wedding anniversaries, where their children are asking them to Christmas dinners and where their happy family memories are dsiplayed in photo frames around their homes and on their desks.

    Bishops, we need you to come out!

    We need you to have the moral courage to say what you really think, to come off the fence (which is a pretty uncomfortable place to sit anyway) and stand firmly on one side or the other.  Then we can start to have some respect for you – even if we disagree with you, for we will know you have the courage of your convictions to state what you truly believe and why.

    Of course, there are other bishops who really do need to heed the call to “come out – wherever they are”.

    The scandal here is not that we have gay bishops in the House of Bishops, but that we have gay bishops who do not feel safe enough to come out within the House of Bishops.

    Ironically, the percentage of bishops who feel “safe enough” to be out is far lower it seems than the percentage of LGBT+ Christians (33%) who say they feel “safe enough to be out” to everyone in their local church.  Goodness, if a bishop doesn’t feel safe to be out – how on earth does he/she expect a young LGBT+ teenager to feel safe?!  It beggars belief!

    What’s more, it undermines their authority.  Most in the LGBT+ community know who these LGBT+ bishops are.  More accurately, most know who their partners are!  And yet we’re all sworn to secrecy.

    This must change.  Is there no shame amongst those who expect the rest of us to bear the brunt of the conservatives ire, who hide behind us being open and transparent about our lived experience?

    It makes me so angry, for as always, again, it is the young and the undefended – those least able or equipped to bear the weight of this – who are left to plead their own cause.

    I have just conducted some research in Hungary and the Caribbean, the results of which will be made public shortly.  The findings are horrific.  They show the impact of living in a culture where the only acceptable way of being is to be heteronormative and cis-gendered.  The level of attempted suicide and self harm amongst the LGBT community is astronomical.

    But it is the fact that young LGBT+ people are totally undefended – that those closest to them, who they trust, their parents, teachers, religious leaders and doctors are the ones who are the most likely to tell them they must change and become straight.  It’s heart-breaking.

    That’s why we need these cultures to change.

    And it must start with our bishops.

  • Being Bisexual in Church — a Balancing Act

    by Will Moore, an ordinand at Westcott House and the author of the forthcoming book ‘Boys Will Be Boys, and Other Myths: Unravelling Biblical Masculinities’ 

    Bisexuality is often forgotten in heated debates about sexuality. It turns common stagnant thinking on its head. It is the sexual orientation that doesn’t fit neat categories of gay and straight.

    Traditionally, bisexuality has been considered as attraction to both men and women or, more recently to anyone on the gender spectrum. Being bisexual inherently resists simplistic classification. It is a balancing act with so many factors simultaneously at play, being lived out in a different shape by every individual.

    This leads to many myths and misconceptions: bisexuals are ‘greedy’; bisexuals are ‘just going through a phase’; bisexuals ‘don’t really exist’. When bisexual people like me hear these ignorant bi-phobic phrases, we experience bi-erasure.

    The Church of England’s principal authorised teaching document on sexuality, published in 1991, describes bisexuality as ‘ambiguous.’ It goes on to say ‘bisexual activity must always be wrong for this reason, if for no other, that it inevitably involves being unfaithful’. There is an assumption here that bisexual people cannot hold back their emotional, romantic, or sexual attraction and are always left unsatisfied. According to the Church of England, bisexuals experience greedy, lustful and uncontrollable sexual attraction.

    Really? Just because bisexual people might have the capacity to fall in love with people of different genders, it does not mean that they are proportionally attracted to more people, or that they have more sexual desire that needs fulfilling. This teaching document paints bisexuals as immoral, adulterous beasts, challenging God’s creational order.

    Surely the Church has moved on since 1991? Regrettably, not.

    There has been some supplementary (but not authoritative) material since, most recently Living in Love and Faith, but this document, Issues in Human Sexuality, remains the official teaching of the Church of England.  At this February’s General Synod, the Bishop of London was pressed on these paragraphs which derogatively address bisexuality. She dismissively responded that the document is ‘thirty years away’ from now. It may be, but as a new ordinand, I have, within the last year, had to assent to live within its guidelines.

    Many, like me, will have agreed through gritted teeth, hurt by words that refer to people like us. As a bisexual man, I must assent to the premise that I am myself ‘ambiguous’ and will be ‘inevitably […] unfaithful’ for simply being who God created me to be. Further, by consenting to live like this, I am concurring with what follows. It recommends heterosexual marriage, abstinence, and even counselling as ‘guidance’ for bisexuals. These sound dangerously like conversion therapy, something that General Synod, as well as the British Government, has promised to ban. Ours is a tragic love story of dedication to the Church.

    Could I, perhaps, as a bisexual, keep up appearances in the Church? After all, I am in a relationship with a woman. A priest told me in an early conversation about my calling that as an LGBTQ+ person in the Church I should be prepared to struggle. Whether that was an affectionate warning or a menacing threat, I am still unsure. But many months later, an official in the discernment process assured me that because I am ‘in a heterosexual relationship’ (which, of course, I am not, since I am still bisexual), my sexuality would be less of an issue. They seemed to think my sexual orientation drastically altered depending on whom I was dating.

    Heterosexual people do not lose every ounce of attraction to others when they enter a relationship, and it is no different for bisexuals. At times I have painfully prayed to God to be either gay or straight, rather than something in-between. But my supposed ‘gay’ and ‘straight’ parts do not become compartmentalised, one erased and the other flourishing, depending on the gender of the person whom I am committing to.

    For many years, I was worried about being in a relationship with a woman. Would I lose my self-identity as bisexual, as I would at least appear to conform to what the Church and heteronormative society required? Surely, I would be playing the act of a straight man, despite my bisexuality? Would I also forfeit my right to identify as bisexual within the LGBTQ+ community?

    At the time, I thought that dating a woman was conforming, giving power and legitimacy to the traditional, often harmful, sexual ethics of the Church. I had unconsciously succumbed to myths about bisexuality that I had disapproved of for so long. I felt like I needed to be with a man in order to be truly fulfilled as an LGBTQ+ Christian. And, if that was the case, was I becoming the ‘ambiguous’ and ‘inevitably unfaithful’ person the Church told me I intrinsically was?

    Eventually, I realised that simply being bisexual was anti-normative in itself. I was already muddying the waters by using such a label, whoever I might be dating. To be in a relationship with my partner who happens to be a woman, and yet still identify as bisexual, is just as disruptive to heteronormative hegemony. By looking straight but not actually being so, I wasn’t conforming. I was doing the opposite. It was liberation, not betrayal.

    We humans live and love with our whole selves. We must acknowledge Christ’s calling in all of life. This means paying attention to the nuance and uniqueness of each individual. We can no longer assume that being heterosexual and cisgender are normative. God’s glorious creation of human sexuality is much more complex than that. The rainbow of life is broad and colourful. It includes bisexuals, pansexuals, asexuals, and more, along with those who are married, cohabiting, divorced, widowed, or single. There are so many voices that have not been heard. They may be considered messy and muddled, yet they are authentic expressions of genuine life experiences. Listening to them uncovers the breadth and diversity of God’s creation.

    Too often, however, we overlook the uniqueness, even queerness, in every single person. The Church needs to acknowledge and appreciate all those balancing in the betwixt and between whose voices are lost.

    After all, my story is one of balance. This can be difficult and painful and sometimes equilibrium isn’t achieved. As an ordinand, I come into the Church of England bursting with hope for the future, but still laden with the burden of wounds that our Church has inflicted, and still does, on many minorities. As a bisexual Christian, I balance what I really am with what the Church wants me to be.

    All I can say is that I am here, a bisexual Christian who God made and called me to be, in the Church that I love. At times I have been ignored and insulted. I have felt detached from Christian communities. Even the institutional Church within which I am training for priesthood carries in high regard hurtful words about people like me.

    But as bisexuals continue to live out our lives authentically, I hope we will increasingly be known and understood better – whether we are in relationship with someone of the same gender, a different gender, or no one at all. The more we are listened to, the more myths are dispelled. The better we are understood by our beloved Church, the less weighty the burden of balancing our bisexuality will feel.

    To my fellow bisexual Christians: keep balancing and stay upright. Speak out, be heard, stay safe, and be brave. Your voice is important. God hears you and loves you. Soon, I pray, the Church will too.

  • Profile: Burn Out, Exclusion and the Church of England

    by the Revd Canon Valerie Plumb,  Area Dean for Rural Mission and Development in the Diocese of Oxford and elected member of General Synod

    I have spent nearly two years living and working remotely. This has been and remains a challenging situation for all involved in my household. It’s vitally important to make sure that all who are still medically shielding are not forgotten.

    The government is desperately attempting to bring back ‘normal’ but nothing has really changed for the clinically vulnerable community. Now they are living in more fear and with a growing sense that they simply don’t matter any more.

    ‘Shielding’ and what it was all about seems to be fast dropping out of our vocabulary. Society is increasingly divided between mask wearers and non- mask wearers. Being pro and antivax is becoming a hot point for feelings and conversations.

    In reality those who medically shield have no choice. Choosing life over potential death seems a no-brainer.

    We who continue to shield begin to slip into the shadows and learn to live in what feels like a second-class level of existence. My biggest fear is that the church succumbs to the same mindset.

    In November 2021 Archbishop Justin Welby declared in a General Synod inaugural president’s address ‘it’s not Christian to exclude’. It was a powerful address. As an elected member I heard that speech, and the rest of General Synod in the following days, online, but was unable to debate, vote, share in group work or even offer my maiden speech should I be called. This felt an awful lot like being excluded.

    I felt so upset and outraged by the whole experience that I began to question it. This inaugurated months of ping pong correspondence with the Synod’s Business Committee.

    By the February 2022 group of sessions I was delighted to hear that they had become fully hybrid. I was even able to offer my maiden speech. It addressed the importance of ensuring that remote working isn’t considered ‘not good enough’. It went down well.

    I am one of many clergy across the country who are still working remotely. Not all of us have been supported in the same way. My Area Bishop and Archdeacon completely understand my situation. They support and acknowledge the seriousness of my need to shield whilst strongly validating my mission and ministry in these extraordinary circumstances. Others have not been so lucky.

    Some people think that church isn’t proper church unless it’s in a building. Somehow, ministering to each other via zoom isn’t as valid as in person. It’s not the same, but it’s more a case of just being different rather than less. Thank goodness God is still God!

    The pressure on those who continue to work from home remains extremely intense. It has led to some experiencing burnout because of a need to repeatedly validate their work. Even now I still get folks asking me ‘When I am coming back to work?’ Ironically, throughout this whole pandemic I have continued to lead services, chair meetings, train LLM’s, oversee ordinands, participate in discussions, interview people, lead retreats and even attend General Synod. I have been there pastorally for others. This sounds an awful lot like full time work to me!

    During this uncharted time in history we have learnt to travel a new landscape. We must use this opportunity to learn and understand all we can and use that knowledge to prepare for future journeys.

    Some decisions made by the C of E during this pandemic have brought panic and pain to vulnerable people. They have over burdened those trying to make local choices. Now we seek a better and brighter future. Let’s not forget those ones who are not yet able to put it all behind them.

    It’s personal. I suffer from an immunological disorder requiring strong immunosuppressive medication. Shielding has been my only option. Covid 19 could bring a potentially deadly reaction. Even those I live with have had to change their lives accordingly. Last week my God-daughter finally sold her car having she lost her job because of the risk to me.

    This journey has been hard, but it doesn’t feel wasted. I often think of Henri Nouwen’s words ‘Who can take away suffering without entering it? The great illusion of leadership is to think that a man can be led out of the desert by someone who has never been there.’ Deserts can be interesting places to live, but being in them changes you.

    Through all the trials and tribulations I have felt blessed with a constant sense of how precious life really is. Seeing this from the sharp end has encouraged me to live life to the fullest. It has created a purer sense of soul freedom that is beginning to show in my ministry.

    This sudden and deep awareness of humanity’s fragility has allowed me to see how important it is for people to see their priests’ vulnerabilities. It shows they are real and accessible, but most importantly it shows them a God who blesses all people no matter what shape they come in. Churches are as vulnerable as individuals. Archbishop Justin’s November address acknowledged “our failures in safeguarding, in racism and the way we treat those with disabilities.”

    It’s profoundly necessary for the church to recognise and cherish many different coloured sparks of holiness that come from those who bring difference to the holy table.

    I leave the last word to a former Archbishop, Dr. Rowan Williams, who in conversation with me about illness once said ‘Val, I want you to always remember that God never wastes anything, and in your suffering, you will learn new skills and he will direct where and when to use them’ 

    Guess what, he was right. Now let’s acknowledge this as a church!

  • Will They Ever Come Back…?

    by Rt Hon Sir Tony Baldry, who was MP for Banbury (1983 – 2015), Second Estates Commissioner (2010 – 2015) and Chair of the Church Buildings Council (2015 – 2019)

    Before the pandemic, if one asked for statistics about church attendance, you would probably have been told that on average 3.5% of the population of England regularly attended Church of England services and another 3.5% attended several times a year such as Christmas, Easter and some other occasions.

    Some 7% or so of the population and then in addition there would be those who came to church during the year for weddings, funerals and baptisms.

    The pandemic has caused regular church goers to “self-certify” themselves as being members of the congregation by providing parish administrators with their email addresses so they can be emailed the Zoom link for when the services, such as Sunday Evensong take place by Zoom.

    That is good news.

    A far better, more accurate and more immediate record of those who consider themselves to be members of a church congregation that any parochial electoral roll ever succeeded in showing.

    The bad news is that the other 3.5%, those who came to church occasionally, seem in large part to have given up coming to church at all.

    Obviously, like everything in the Church of England, I will quite rightly be told that every church is different, and that one should be careful not to generalise but I would be prepared to wager that it is now rare for most churches to see worshippers whom they would not consider to be regular members of the congregation, and whose email details they don’t have on record for Zoom services.

    And weddings and baptisms in church seem to have tailed off dramatically.

    There are all sorts of reasons why I suspect the other 3.5% have stopped coming to church.

    • They’ve got out of the habit during the time that churches were completely shut.
    • They do not feel sufficiently strongly about coming to church whilst it is still mandatory to wear face masks, and
    • They are not keen to come to church when they are not able to socialise and meet friends and neighbours after services.

    Reconnecting with these Easter, Christmas and a few times a year church goers, must be a very real priority once the worst of the pandemic has passed.

    We should make a special effort to invite as many friends, neighbours and missing faces to Easter Sunday services in earl April and services to mark the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee in early June.

    The evidence suggests that once people stop the habit of going to church, even if that is only a few times a year, visits get increasingly rare or stop altogether.

    Zoom has been a wonderful boon during the pandemic by keeping regular congregations but as soon as possible, we need to reengage with the other 3.5% and more widely who had, pre-pandemic come to church from time to time.

     

  • Banning Prayer?

    by Jeremy Marks, Founder of Post-Courage and Winner of the Colin Blakely Lifetime Achievement Award

    “In the silence of the heart God speaks. If you face God in prayer and silence, God will speak to you. Then you will know that you are nothing. It is only when you realise your nothingness, your emptiness, that God can fill you with Himself. Souls of prayer are souls of great silence.”   Mother Teresa (vaticansite.com)

    One of the most controversial aspects of the proposed Ban “Conversion Therapy” legislation concerns the notion of “banning prayer”.  To some people it can feel like the beginnings of persecution for Christians! But is it?

    As an evangelical Christian (in the sense that I believe knowing Jesus, studying his teaching and living according to his words is Good News) I am ALL for prayer!  If only sincere prayer from the heart played a bigger part in all of our lives. . . !

    However, I have learned through nearly 50 years of life as a Christian (30+ in full time ministry) that prayer is much more about listening than speaking… learning to listen to God above all and being willing to learn.

    I love the story of Mother Teresa of Calcutta’s reply to a journalist, years ago, when he asked her how she prays?

    “I listen” replied Mother Teresa.

    “Oh?” replied the journalist, clearly interested. “And what does God say to you?”

    “He listens too” she replied.

    This made me laugh. Because I have to say that this is exactly how I find prayer to be. Long ago I came to realise the foolishness, the short-sightedness, of bringing a list of prayer requests to God, to ask for needs to be met. . . that God understands far better than I do anyway!  I began to change my prayers to something more like, “So what do YOU think I/we/they need Lord?”

    I also discovered in this process what a wonderful sense of humour God has.  Like the day when I observed in my prayers (a little self-indulgently) “Lord sometimes I wonder if I have any true friends who really care about me? Nobody ever seems to ring or contact me unless they are in trouble or need something!”  Quick as a flash I “heard” God reply, “Whatever makes you think you are so special?  Nobody ever turns to me unless they want something, or they are in trouble – and I am GOD”. I must admit I burst out laughing, and then sheepishly replied, “I see what you mean.  I cannot complain, can I?”

    So it follows that when praying for others, I realised that listening to them and coming to a place of deep empathy comes first, comes second, and comes last! As someone once observed, “God gave us two ears and one mouth, so let us use our ears and mouth in those proportions!” Learning to walk alongside those who feel lonely, marginalised, and misunderstood (as Jesus did) is what prayer is all about. But never starting with assumptions as to what a person needs or wants, then boldly launching into ardent prayer, which can do far more harm than good!  To be sure, it certainly has its effect, but often in totally the wrong way!

    Humility is the foundation stone for all prayer, I have found.

    Regrettably there are some evangelical Christians who believe that a few Bible texts can be applied to everyone, in a superficial one-size-fits all way. I can accept that when it comes to a verse such as “All have sinned and fall short of the grace of God”.  (Romans 3:23) But they don’t seem to believe that it is necessary to learn about the complex issues of human sexuality, before they just sally forth and pray triumphantly that God will “deliver”, say a gay person, from their same-sex desires and make them heterosexual.  Such people can be among the worst culprits for arming their prayers with a cocktail of prejudices and undisguised agendas that demand change, then push those assumptions into a vulnerable person’s life, like a lethal injection, causing incalculable damage.  Consistently I have seen this to be the most pernicious and toxic form of prayer imaginable.

    The better way, I have found, is to pray for wisdom as to how to help and comfort somebody.  More and more I discover that when I do so, and then trust in the Holy Spirit to guide me as I make a response, I am amazed at what comes out of my mouth.  So are the people who listen to my response, who often go on their way rejoicing. It really is such a privilege to listen and pray for God’s wisdom to be revealed.

    When Jesus taught about prayer it’s fundamental premise was about changing the person praying NOT about trying to change another person, the one you are praying for, however well-intentioned!  Just consider the Lord’s prayer for starters. It is impossible to pray that in a “me-centred” way.  The Lord’s prayer is only about me in the context of my relationship with God – as Father God, as provider of all my needs, as protector and guide, as minister of forgiveness, grace and empowerment.

    So, I’m all for prayer when it is informed and appropriate, coming from a place of empathy. But there’s nothing that undermines the quality of prayer more than crass assumptions that say more about the pray-er’s ignorance and prejudices than about the person seeking support.  If “banning prayer to change people’s sexuality” results in persecution of those kinds of Christians, then I can see that there is good reason for it!  The law is given to protect people from abuse and harm.

    Just in case there are any readers who feel that I have just invalidated their prayer life with dismissive comments, may I just share something else about my own prayer life that I hope might restore the balance.

    Many years ago, I got stuck in my prayer life. With my heart full of huge concerns for other people’s dire needs and seemingly intractable situations, I not only felt overwhelmed but also frustrated! I couldn’t see how a good God needed any input from me at all when God can perfectly well what heartbreak there is and what needs to happen. Gradually I realised that God has put us on this earth to be His/Her/Their eyes, ears, and arms to reach out, and feet to take us to help others in God’s name. And that this sense of partnership with God is what the Christian life is all about.

    ­­One b­­­­usy day, burdened with­­­­ huge concerns for myself as well as others, I sat down for a few moments and wrote down everything I could think of there and then, that I would have prayed about if I’d had the time and faith to do so. Then added “God’s To-Do List!” at the top. Then I got on with my day. That piece of paper quickly became buried in my paperwork pile and re-surfaced when I was looking for something else about 6 weeks later. I stopped for a moment to glance through the list and was astounded to see that almost everything on that list had been resolved in one way or another and that in most cases I had completely forgotten that I had listed them. Moreover, the resolutions had come in all kinds of ways, most of which I would never have thought of.  So, I concluded that sharing our hearts and concerns with God is valid and important. Then we can leave these things with God and one way or another resolution comes. Because when we are motivated by love our prayers can indeed be very powerful in all the best ways… and they won’t get us into trouble with the law either. It is not the sort of prayer that can be banned!

    “I used to pray that God would feed the hungry, or do this or that, but now I pray that he will guide me to do whatever I’m supposed to do, what I can do. I used to pray for answers, but now I’m praying for strength. I used to believe that prayer changes things, but now I know that prayer changes us and we change things.” – Mother Teresa 

  • Another Injustice in the Church of England? Surely not!

    by the Revd Sorrel Shamel-Wood, 2nd year curate who is about to go on maternity leave…

    On Christmas morning, my husband presided at the Eucharist and I deaconed beside him. It was at one of the churches where I serve as curate: a beautiful, thriving church in rural Oxfordshire and it was a privilege to be there. It was also a painful and nonsensical experience because my husband was helping out at the church because I am not allowed to be ordained priest. I am not allowed to be ordained priest because my husband has been married before.

    Canon C4.3 of the Canons of the Church of England states:

    Subject to paragraph 5 of this Canon no person shall be admitted into holy orders who has remarried and, the other party to that marriage being alive, has a former spouse still living; or who is married to a person who has been previously married and whose former spouse is still living.[1]

    According to this canon, I should never be able to be ordained, because my husband’s former spouse is still living. It doesn’t affect his ministry, even though it’s his divorce, because he was admitted into holy orders long before we met. However, there is a caveat to this canon, the aforementioned paragraph 5, which states that a Diocesan bishop “may grant a faculty for the removal of this impediment… in accordance with directions given from time to time by the Archbishops of Canterbury and York acting jointly”.[2] Thus, despite the fact that I have married a divorcee, I could still be ordained priest if a faculty is granted.

    The current Archbishops’ guidance is that “they will not normally consider an application for a faculty where the current marriage is less than three years old” since “the current marriage should be stable and well established”.[3] My husband and I married on July 31st 2020, as soon as the pandemic restrictions allowed us to do so. I was ordained deacon on the 14th July 2020. According to the current guidance, we cannot be granted a faculty until July 2023.

    It is my contention that this guidance needs to change and to consider individual cases rather than impose an artificial and legalistic time limit. The current guidance is pastorally insensitive and has very little theological basis.

    The easiest thing in my case would have been to delay our marriage until after I was priested, and indeed I was placed under considerable pressure to do so. However, I refused to delay our marriage for several reasons. Firstly, my husband is American and he couldn’t have worked in the UK without a spousal visa. He serves as an Oxford college chaplain, a job he loves and to which he feels deeply called. To put my calling in front of his, and to insist he did not work for two years until I was priested, was something I was not prepared to put him through. It would have been profoundly selfish and un-Christlike. Secondly, despite being a progressive Christian I am committed to the Church’s teaching that the best place for sex is within marriage. For me, following the Church’s teaching on this issue was more important even than following my vocation, which is one of the greatest and deepest joys of my life. I felt that as adults in our thirties, delaying our marriage by two years would be a course of action that lacked integrity and actually, the Diocese was effectively pressuring us towards the path of temptation and sin. Furthermore, I’m thirty-four years old: I knew that there was not a great deal of time on our side to establish our marriage and start a family. I’m beyond delighted that we are now expecting a baby in the next few weeks. Do the Archbishops genuinely think that our marriage lacks stability? I suggest that a half an hour conversation with my husband and me would be all that was needed to demonstrate quite the opposite: we are the love of each other’s lives, a source of mutual support without which we would struggle to thrive amidst the intense pressures of ordained ministry.

    Choosing my marriage over my ordination to the priesthood has caused immense psychological stress and a great deal of pain. Watching the rest of my cohort being priested while I was left behind was especially difficult. However, I am also keenly aware that my situation is one of considerable privilege. If I were gay, then I would not be able to marry and be priested in the Church of England ever, at all. The frustration and turmoil that has beset the first years of my ministry would last a lifetime. The pressure to be secretive, to lie to my bishop, to be trapped in a compromised position, would be greater and in my opinion, unavoidable. And of course, if I had been born half a century earlier, as a woman I would never have been able to fulfil my vocation to ordained ministry at all.

    The guidance surrounding Canon C4.3 is a small issue in the greater scheme of things, despite the pain it has caused me and my husband personally. But I hope that, as the Church of England engages in wider conversations about relationships, gender and marriage there will be space for it to be reconsidered. Because, frankly, the Church of England’s current preferencing of bureaucracy and legalism over integrity and pastoral sensitivity is tearing good people apart.

    [1] The Canons of the Church of England https://www.churchofengland.org/about/leadership-and-governance/legal-services/canons-church-england/section-c

    [2] Ibid.

    [3] Sending Candidates to BAP: A Guide to the Selection process  https://www.churchofengland.org/sites/default/files/2017-10/Sending%20Candidates%20to%20BAP.pdf p.11

  • Who is Joe Rogan, Anyway?

    by Rt Revd Alan Wislon, Bishop of Buckingham and Canon Rosie Harper – Guest Editors of ViaMedia

    Jayne Ozanne has made quite a success of this blog. Last year it had over 150,000 hits, an average of 12,500 a month — quite a congregation. So we were slightly daunted but delighted when she invited us to be guest editors for the next two months.

    We’ve invited a variety of people, some more and some less familiar . Our own passions are around Human Rights, Equality and Safeguarding, but we gave everyone the simple brief of speaking about something that really mattered to them. The next one will be by Andrew Lightbown who is moving from the Church of England to the Church in Wales. A challenging read -especially on the first day of General Synod!

    Just as we were writing this introduction a new story was breaking about Spotify.

    Joe Rogan has a recent podcast on Spotify with anti-vax guests. There was huge kickback. Music legends Neil Young and Joni Mitchell, amongst others, wanted Spotify to take down Joe’s material. They threatened to withdraw their music. Who could resist their power?

    Spotify could, and started taking down Neil Young’s material instead. What on earth was going on…?

    We had never heard of Joe Rogan. The Times has called him a “chaotic, fanatically curious, conspiracy-obsessed, hench, pot-smoking, woke-baiting broadcaster-cum-comedian-cum gonzo public intellectual.”

    The same review called him “one of the most influential people alive,” the most highly paid broadcaster in history. Surprisingly, his Podcast is worth far more to Spotify than Mr Young or Ms Mitchell, iconic though they may be.

    Joe Rogan produces 200 podcasts a year for $100 million. In 2019 200 million people downloaded them each month. The average age of his demographic is 24.

    He seems to be communicating with people the Church can’t, anyway. We thought we’d investigate — what’s the appeal? Twenty minutes of catchy tunes and a little libertarian rant on the side?

    The Average length of a Joe Rogan Podcast is two to three hours. Wikipedia says he is obsessional about Stand up Comedy, Martial Arts, Hunting and Libertarianism. Rather counter intuitively, he endorsed Bernie Sanders during the 2020 Democratic Party primaries. What?

    We though we’d pick one of his podcasts with a pin. What was there to learn about martial arts, hunting and comedy?

    Our pin landed on Podcast 1739 (November 2021). Joe talked for 135 minutes with Philip Goff, associate professor in the department of Philosophy at Durham University. They discussed the nature of consciousness and the need for a new philosophy about it. What?

    11 million people tuned in, and although the guest list, one guest a podcast, includes Fighters, Comedians and Eat-what-you-kill hunters, it also includes, er, philosophy professors. His most recent guests were Valentine Thomas (former lawyer and financier turned free-diver, spear fisher, chef and author) Jordan Peterson (celebrity psychologist) and Professor Robert Epstein (Senior research psychologist at the American Institute for Behavioural Research and Technology, who specialises in analysing how social media affect elections).

    You have to give it to Joe, he has broad and wide interests. Much as we suspect we would disagree with him about just about everything, narrow he ain’t. He has even apologised for the anti-tax podcast and promised to research his guests better in future. He doesn’t seem to feel the need to be defensive.

    Oh dear. We were all prepared for superficial populism, but his conversations, each with a single guest for 2-3 hours, seemed to be packed with provocative brain food.

    There’s a painful contrast between his operation, its reach, its breadth and, surprisingly, its depth, and most of the Christian stuff out there. The Church seems to assume a moral high ground, a notion that it is inherently interesting in itself, and a habit of assuming Daddy (and it usually is Daddy) knows best. Its default habit is to tell you what to think, rather than stimulate thinking. It only feels comfortable if it can control the narrative. It deals in certainty. It looks down on intellectual curiosity. That is “secular.”

    We have no idea what St Paul discussed with the philosophers on Mars Hill but suspect the conversation had broader bandwidth than much Christian discourse today. It went beyond “how to be a Christian and really efficient at recruiting people,” or “why Christians should be nice to one another,” as gripping as those subjects may be for insiders.

    Strangely enough the Bible is packed with deep wisdom for everyone not just true believers. So, for that matter is the teaching of Jesus. Unfortunately many Christians seem live on the infant food St Paul regretted having to feed his friends in Corinth.

    Via Media is partly about expanding bandwidth. Rowan Williams, when he was appointed Archbishop of Canterbury, suggested the mission of the Church of England was to engage with the imagination of ordinary people in a new way. Back in the day Sidney Carter, the radical hymn writer, said he went fishing with question marks for hooks. Like Jesus.

    Joe Rogan clearly does. Why can’t we?

  • Collateral Damage – Do Church Leaders Care?

    by Jayne Ozanne, Director of the Ozanne Foundation, Chair of the Ban Conversion Therapy Coalition and Editor of ViaMedia.News

    This week saw the publication of the 2021 LGBT+ Christians Safeguarding Survey Report, which has shone a bright spotlight on the cost many of us LGBT+ Christians are paying for being caught in the crossfire of the “debates” over our future.

    The results are very disturbing – with only a third (36.9%) of the LGBT+ Christians surveyed feeling safe enough ‘to be out to everyone’ in their local church.  Perhaps even more worryingly is that over one in six (17.4%) said that “church” was a place where they used to be able to be out, but now no longer feel safe enough to be so.  We appear to be regressing.

    The fact that over three quarters (75.3%) chose the indicator ‘I’m not worried about what might be said in the sermon’ to show that they could feel safe to be themselves in their local church should be a wakeup call to church leaders about the hidden toll that this is all taking.

    The question is, will it?

    For years LGBT+ people have spoken out about the trauma and pain that they have endured, just for being “different” to the perceived heterosexual cis-gendered ‘norm’.  Many from across the medical professions have added their voices too, clearly highlighting the psychological damage being done to those trying to reconcile their faith with their sexuality and/or gender identity.  Then has come a raft of evidence about the evils of so-called ‘conversion therapy’, including harrowing testimonies from survivors.

    Has it made any difference?

    I must admit that one of the things that has shocked me most in these recent years of speaking out about the harm inflicted on LGBT+ people has been the callousness of the response from those hell-bent on continuing with this spiritual abuse.

    They know, but they just do not care.

    And it is that cold indifference and lack of pastoral concern that proves to me, beyond any shadow of a doubt, just how un-Christian their dogmatic stance is.  They may think that they are ‘standing firm for the Gospel’, but the fruit of their teaching is so rotten and bad that it gives off a stench that few wish to be associated with (and those that do just hold their noses and try to put up with it!).

    This was brought home to me in my recent interview with Peter Lynas for Justin Brierley’s show on Premier Radio, Unbelievable.  Time and time again I confronted him with the harm that the Evangelical Alliance was inflicting on LGBT+ people through their promotion of the ironically named ‘Biblical and Pastoral Responses to Homosexuality’ – the ten ‘affirmations’ that set out how church leaders should treat LGBT+ people and their allies in their congregations.  Time and time again he deflected, obfuscated and refused to engage with the evidence.   It didn’t go unnoticed.

    There is nothing loving about ignoring the cries of people you are harming.

    There is nothing loving about turning your back on those who are asking for help.

    There is nothing loving about doggedly pursuing a course of action that is clearly abusive.

    The most upsetting thing is that few in positions of power, who have the ability and indeed the duty to safeguard against this abuse, choose to use their position of power to intervene.  Most stay silent.

    Why? Because they just see LGBT+ people as collateral damage.

    For some reason – which has nothing to do with Christianity and everything to do with fear – they just don’t appear to care.  And it is that which makes me so angry – and I believe makes Jesus really angry too.

    Jesus always dealt with the real-life situation of the person in front of him.  He always responded with love and compassion, whilst the religious leaders around him stuck to ideologies and principles.  He called them on it.  He chastised them for it.  He was crucified because of it.

    Not much has changed, sadly.

    The only thing we do know, is that they will be judged because of it.  One day.

    In the meantime, I know that God is watching and waiting to see who will protect His sheep from harm.  Fortunately, there are many wonderful Samaritans, even if many of the religious leaders walk right on by.  They at least want to help heal and protect the wounded.

    So what can be done?

    Well the first step is to break the silence, gather the evidence and call out the abuse – which is why we did the survey and why I eventually agreed to do the interview with Peter.  The second is to take that evidence to people who have both the pastoral heart and the positions of power to do something about it.

    Watch this space…it’s coming!

  • Drawing the Line?

    by the Rt Revd Paul Bayes, Bishop of Liverpool and Chair of the Ozanne Foundation

    Do not fear what they fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord.[1]

    It’s not that long ago that the word “inclusive” used to irritate me. I saw it as a party slogan, rather like the use of “orthodox” or “godly” in other parts of our Church. It annoyed me, even as it nagged at me.

    This is because I hoped to rise above such divisive words. In particular, in my early days as a bishop I tried to inhabit a vacuum of opinion. I believed that this vacuum is the proper place for a bishop, the only place that a “symbol of unity” in the Church could possibly sit. Such a vacuum is certainly a good place to live if you want a quiet life: in space, no one can hear you scream.

    Well, over the years things changed for me. As with so many others in the long history of the Church, events and wounded people approached me and I came to know them, and they changed me. Now, as I approach my retirement, the place and voice of a disciple involves (to quote Dan Berrigan SJ as I so often do), “knowing where you stand, and standing there”.

    So I have done my best to say what I think about a whole range of things, including one or two which are contended in today’s church. I’ve tried to speak for, to make room for, the lives of people for whom there was no room in the past. Overall I’ve tried to set my compass by what the Roman Catholic Church has called the preferential option for the poor; what my predecessor David Sheppard called the bias to the poor.

    As I’ve done so there has been no shortage of people to tell me that by making this journey at all, I have fallen short of my discipleship in general and of my episcopal vocation in particular. I’m told that I have gone wrong in one or both of two ways: by being a heretic and/or by being a maverick.

    Those who think I’m a heretic usually write to me. They tend to be unrestrained in the use of their language. Many of them believe that my eternal destiny is at stake and that they need to help me with my salvation by setting me straight. From the tone of their letters they clearly believe that the job will best be done by shaming me into heaven, reminding me forcibly of my mistakes, inaccuracies, ignorances, underlining how offended they are by my words. I try always to reply to these letters and emails with thanks, but I have to say that none of them has yet succeeded in its aim. Shaming and anger are poor persuaders.

    Those who think I’m a maverick are usually more restrained in their style. They tend not to write but to speak privately, or to express themselves non-verbally, in the raising of an eyebrow of the rolling of an eye. They communicate more in sorrow than in anger. What a pity, brother, that from time to time you have so noisily flouted the agreed norms of polite Christian behaviour. How unfortunate that you seem to be questioning or resisting or pre-empting the necessarily slow deliberations of the Church. What a shame that you keep banging on about one or two issues, rather than spreading your indignations more carefully, seamlessly and evenly about the place. How sad that you’re so… well, untactful.

    For me, as for a number of my colleagues retired and serving in all orders of the Church, being seen as a maverick is unpleasant and unwelcome. Unwelcome, since our belief is that we live in the mainstream of discipleship and not on its margins. Making the option for the poor, being there for those on the edge of things, is the mainspring of our witness. But we ourselves do not wilfully seek to be on the edge of things. Still less do we want to be treated as a mildly tolerated presence on the edge, like pepper in a stew, piquant but mercifully optional.

    Anyway, as the year’s end approaches, and with around fifty days to go before my farewell service in Liverpool, I have been reflecting on this question: how have I, who used to be so annoyed by the word “inclusive”, come to be seen as an annoying maverick/heretic now?

    Perhaps it’s because I have entered in to a greater faithfulness to what I was taught about God and about his only-begotten Son. That at any rate is my hope and prayer.

    Here is a short passage from the Lutheran liturgical theologian, Gordon Lathrop. I read it years ago, and I quote it often:

    Draw a line that includes us and excludes many others, and Jesus Christ is always on the other side of the line. At least that is so if we are speaking of the biblical, historic Christ who eats with sinners and outsiders, who is made a curse and sin itself for us, who justifies the ungodly, and who is himself the hole in any system.[2]

    In the week of my forty-second Christmas as an ordained minister, I look again as a disciple to the paradox of the Incarnation. I look to the Infant of Days, to the scrap of humanity who couldn’t find a room yet who is fully God, who grew up to dine with sinners, to scandalise the religious, to die an unclean death outside the city. I look to him and I agree with Gordon Lathrop. Jesus is himself the hole in any human system of righteousness, and Divine righteousness is a gift given to those on both sides of any line. And I will live in this mystery with all the integrity I can muster.

    Another long-remembered thing. As a sixth-form student I read a book by Daniel Berrigan SJ, the US Catholic priest and peace protestor whose words I quoted above. The book was called “America is Hard to Find”. That book drew me into the peace movement, as a member of which I was honoured to have been arrested and held three or four times for standing or sitting in the wrong place, with Quakers and Catholics and Methodists and a few other Anglicans, acting as a heretic or a maverick over against the laws of England, when instruments of mass destruction were found on the streets, at Cruisewatch near Greenham Common, or at RAF Lakenheath, or in places where decisions were taken about the use of such weapons, such as 10 Downing Street (where in those days you could indeed stand or sit on the street outside). This has been a wellspring of my witness, and I remain glad that I stood there, although doing that too brought criticism to me.

    Perhaps all these criticisms are justified, perhaps one day I’ll grow up enough to understand them and to repudiate my life’s journey. Or perhaps not.

    In any case mine is far from being the unblemished journey of a saint or a prophet. It’s been full of twists and turns, mistakes and apologies, depressions and re-commitments. It has led me from a seat on the road outside 10 Downing Street to (briefly) a seat in the House of Lords, and many would say that sums up a road of contradiction and paradox and compromise and complicity.

    But as a result of that journey, I am more and more convinced that if we draw a line that includes us and excludes many others, then Jesus Christ is always on the other side of the line, among the people outside. I want to be there with Him. I have become unashamedly inclusive, for Christ’s sake.

    And on that road I hope to keep walking, through Christmas and through retirement and on into my own future, as part of the future of this broken and excluding world which needs Jesus so much.

    As I prepare to enter another chapter of my life and ministry, I commend the life of looking beyond lines to you all. I hope that you’ll walk on that road yourself, unafraid. God is with you. Have a blessed Christmas, and a happy and spirit-filled New Year!

    © Paul Bayes 2021

    [1] 1 Peter 3:14

    [2] Gordon W. Lathrop, Holy Ground: A Liturgical Cosmology, pp. 64-5.

  • Evangelical Alliance: “Loving & Orthodox” or “Damaging & Dangerous”?

    by Jayne Ozanne, Editor Director of ViaMedia.News, Member of General Synod and Chair of the Ban Conversion Therapy Coalition
    Last week the campaign to ban conversion therapy was given a significant boost by a letter to the Secretary of State from hundreds of Christian leaders stating clearly that they believed their “Christian duty” was to continue to conduct harmful conversion practices.

    It was just the proof needed to show a sceptical public that the modern-day threat of conversion practices is real and that, even more worryingly, there is absolutely no recognition or remorse for the harm that they have caused countless LGBT+ people.

    If ever the government needed evidence of why they must urgently introduce legislation to protect LGBT+ people, they now have it in spades.  It seems that no amount of reasoned argument, academic or medical opinion, research evidence or the harrowing testimonies of survivors has caused them to stop and reflect on the damage that they’ve done and continue to do.

    Concerns had already been raised by politicians following two evidence sessions, one in Edinburgh and the other in Westminster, both involving senior figures from the Evangelical Alliance.  Indeed, one Scottish Labour politician, Pam Duncan-Glancy MSP commented on Twitter after hearing evidence at the Scottish Equalities, Human Rights and Civil Justice Committee: “I honestly could hardly believe my ears this morning.  I am more convinced than ever* that we need to end all conversion practises, and fast. (*My views that it should end were already very strongly held).” 

    Interestingly, in their letter to the Secretary of State, the Christian Leaders, the vast majority of whom are evangelical, made three claims which need public and firm rebuttal:

    Firstly, they boldly claim that they “act in love” and “never with any coercion or control”.  Have they learnt nothing from the sexual abuse scandals that have riddled their evangelical churches?  Have they not seen the level of coercion and control that exists in their communities?!  It is something that the rest of the world can and does see, that is now well evidenced in various research reports, but it is fascinating and telling that they seem to be so determined not to acknowledge it.

    Secondly, they use the term “orthodox” as if it were a brand label that they alone can claim. Not only is this arrogant, as it fails to recognise the millions of faithful Christians around the world who disagree with them, but it is also wrong.  True Christian orthodoxy is that which proclaims a gospel of God’s unconditional love for all.  Period.  No exceptions, no caveats, no exclusive clubs.  It is never about what we do or who we are, but everything about what Christ has done and who He is!

    Thirdly, it is ludicrous to suggest that a Christian’s ability “to proclaim the Lordship of Jesus Christ and calling people to find life in him” will be impacted by this legislation.  The only practices that are to be banned are those that seek to change, ‘cure’ or suppress a person’s sexual orientation or gender identity.  To claim otherwise is to bear false witness and to prey on people’s fears.

    Perhaps I should not be surprised by their imperviousness to the truth about the harm they cause, nor their defiance in saying they will continue “to do their duty to God” at the risk of being criminalised.  Jesus encountered exactly the same spirit amongst the religious leaders of His day.  Indeed, He had a lot to say to them about this type of person – most notably in Matthew 23:

    “They tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them.”

    before then going on to say:

    “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You shut the door of the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces.  You yourselves do not enter, nor will you let those enter who are trying to.”

    Harsh words yes; but I genuinely believe they are true.  This is indeed, in my mind, a Gospel issue.  This self-dramatising and intransigent attitude cripples and hampers the sharing of the Gospel – both amongst LGBT+ people, who have so often been rejected and hurt by the Church, as well as amongst a nation who want nothing to do with a religion that they see as hypocritical and unloving in the extreme.

    You see just because you say a prayer in a quiet and religious voice does not mean it is loving.  Nor does rebranding a harmful practice as “prayer” make it any the less harmful.  

    It is precisely because these Christian leaders think that what they do is both loving and acceptable that we need this legislation in the first place.  A truly loving approach would be to listen with an open heart to the cries of those who they have harmed, and to ask for their forgiveness.

    Hardheartedness is one of the many traits that made Jesus very angry, and it is what he claimed made them unable to see the truth about the various pastoral situations that he himself was constantly speaking in to.

    Now the opposite of hardheartedness is, I believe, humility.  It is a spirit that requires an openness both to what the Holy Spirit is saying and to admitting that we might have got things wrong.  It is this humility that has led the Church to recognise and repent of the sins of racism, or of poor stewardship of the earth, or of our treatment of women and now, I believe, of its false teachings about those of us who reflect the diversity of God’s creation in our sexuality and gender identity.

    So, as we draw towards the end of the year and move into a time of celebration for the Gift of the Christ child who dwelt in flesh amongst us, I prayer that the eyes of these evangelical leaders’ hearts might be opened and that the Holy Spirit will call them to repent for the damage that they do and the danger that they pose to LGBT+ people, who are created and loved by that very same God, of that very same flesh.