Category: Ordination

  • Evolution not Revolution: Creating Change in Working-Class Ministry in the Church of England

    by Fr Alex Frost, Vicar of St Matthews, Burnley, author of Our Daily Bread: From Argos to the Altar, and member of General Synod, 2021-2026

    In mid-July I was invited for lunch and Holy Communion with The Archbishop of Canterbury, Sarah Mullally, to offer thanks for my work on Working Class Vocations at the Church of England General Synod. I’ve written about this on Via Media before, and then in 2025 I was able to bring a Private Member’s Motion asking the Church to produce a strategy to encourage lay and ordained vocations from people with working class backgrounds. The invitation to Lambeth Palace for lunch was alongside my colleagues in the working party group which was formed to follow up on that Motion, which was led by the Bishop of Barking, Lynne Cullens, and included some incredible voices from General Synod. 

    It was a wonderful occasion, and I was most humbled to represent St Matthew’s church in Burnley at such a historic place as Lambeth Palace. Despite the grandeur of the palace, the visit was reflective of the working-class strategy I’d proposed, and so both Holy Communion and lunch were without too much fuss but with a beautiful simplicity. 

    In the debate on that Private Member’s Motion, Robb Sutherland, a working-class vicar from Leeds, memorably said “One day, I hope to be sharing an Iceland prawn ring with whoever is resident of Lambeth Palace.” And yes, lunch last month included a prawn ring (although not an Iceland one), homemade sandwiches and crisps with a Victoria sponge and a cup of coffee. Archbishop Sarah was very kind and generous to me and the rest of our working group and promised to advocate for more working-class vocations. We discussed some of the ongoing challenges, particularly around finance and the well-being of ordinands who enter training. And I made the point that, despite improvements in the way ordinands are funded, when it comes to working-class ordinands with children, then if one of the parents isn’t working finance is a huge concern.  

    Sarah wanted to know how she could advocate more for working-class people, and we suggested by ensuring all dioceses were switched on and actively exploring what they might do better to welcome more working-class candidates.  

    We also discussed working-class leaders at the highest level, and Bishop Lynne was clear in her view that there are simply not enough working-class Bishops in the Church of England, meaning that the hierarchy still has a whiff of private school membership and power that comes from a place of privilege. 

    Within all these discussions, I am acutely aware that the Archbishop of Canterbury doesn’t have a magic wand and can’t ‘hey presto’ change in the church with immediate effect. And I still believe the church is nowhere near where it needs to be supporting and championing working-class people, but if nothing else, our voice has been heard loud and clear. 

    Being part of this process and on General Synod for the last five years has made me realize that when an institution is under the control of so many different Bishops, traditions and theologies, changing anything radically is almost impossible. Bishop Lynne reminded me that the Church of England is about evolution not revolution, which is a stark reminder for those of us who seek change and who want the church to become more diverse and inclusive. 

    Talking of change and diversity, the working-party I have been part of is now dissolved, and a new group will be formed. It’s clear those who will now take this working-class project forward are seeking new voices, more diversity and for the BAME community to be represented more widely. This is of course good news, but this means that some excellent voices from the group will be lost, which is a shame. 

    As I step back from front line activism on a national scale regarding working-class vocations, I will do all I can in my own Parish to ensure working-class vocations are prioritized, upheld and encouraged. 

    I remain convinced that working-class Christians can breathe new life into a struggling institution that is held back by elitism, power and control at the highest level. For this to happen, more voices need to be heard, more working-class priests need to be present, and more Bishops need to understand that God-given gifts include people who paint walls and not just people who paint pictures, along with people who cut hair, people who wipe bottoms, and people who have experience and knowledge of serving the poor and most vulnerable people in our society.  

    I’m not convinced we will see an explosion of working-class ministers any time soon, but by the grace of God, and by opening the flood gates to allow the Holy Spirit to get in, our grand old institution might just wake up to the exciting potential of change that it so badly needs. 

  • Be Kind

    by Canon Dr Phil Groves, who was a CMS Mission partner and lecturer in theology at St Philip’s Kongwa in Tanzania. He served at the Anglican Communion Office for 10 years. He has attended two Lambeth Conferences, three Primates’ Meetings and four ACCs. He has a PhD on Partnership in the Anglican Communion and is Vicar of the parishes of Cuddington and of Stone, Dinton and Hartwell. He is dyslexic and a member of the Church of England’s Neurodiversity Working Group.

    An extraordinary article entitled Nonsense and Neurodivergence in response to our motion as the Neurodiversity Working Group to General Synod has just been posted on The Critic website by Andrew Tettenborn – a Professor of private, commercial and maritime law at the University of Swansea.

    I wanted to reply directly but The Critic does not appear to allow for comments on their opinion pieces and while the Critic tells us that Tettenborn tweets at @seatradelaw – that X handle does not exist. It appears that The Critic does not like debate and dialogue, just shouting into an echo chamber.

    Tettenborn’s key criticism comes in the penultimate paragraph where he says:

    The chief difficulty with this document is that, though produced in a religious environment and making a nod to religious ideas, it is actually almost entirely secular in approach, interestingly not containing a single reference to scripture. The twenty-first century mantra Be Kind runs through it like the letters in a stick of rock.

    Kindness – far from a twenty-first century mantra – is a key Biblical concept central to the Biblical faith. Here are just 8 examples:

    1. Ephesians 4:32
      Be kind to one another.
    2. 1 Corinthians 13:4
      Love is patient; love is kind.
    3. Galatians 5:22
      The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. 
    4. Micah 6:8
      He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
          and what does the Lord require of you
      but to do justice, and to love kindness,
          and to walk humbly with your God?
    5. Proverbs 21:21
      Whoever pursues righteousness and kindness will find life and honour
    6. Colossians 3:12
      As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.
    7. Matthew 25:34-36
      Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”
    8. Zechariah 7:9 (ESV)
      Thus says the Lord of hosts: Render true judgements, show kindness and mercy to one another.

    The mantra of the age is rather that of conflict and disparaging others. The temptation is to be cruel not kind and I find no Biblical consensus in favour of cruelty.

    We are proud that Ephesians 4:32 runs through our motion like the letters in a stick of rock: Paul told us to ‘be kind to one another’.

    Theology informs all that we do as the Neurodiversity Working Group. We are not driven by a secular ‘human rights’ agenda: rather we are energised by the Scriptures that call out for diversity and inclusion. We remember 1 Cor 1:26 ‘Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth.’

    We are energised by Paul’s description of the church as the Body of Christ.

    Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ. For we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink. Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many.

    Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be?

    The celebration of diversity and the inclusion of all is a core doctrine of the church. Just read any of the gospels and see how Jesus welcomes the outcast and challenges the powerful.

    Along with kindness, another key Biblical word runs through our thinking and that is flourishing. Jesus said he came to bring life and life in all its fullness (John 10:10). Our aim is for all to find this fullness as individuals, collectively as a church and for this flourishing to be embraced in society.

    Tettenborn thinks I am someone with ‘mental issues’ and unsuitable to be a vicar. All through my time in the Church of England I have faced unnecessary barriers because of my dyslexia. I was not considered capable of much in the Church of England, so I went to work for the Anglican Communion worldwide and ended up solving problems for Archbishops of Canterbury and working alongside primates, bishops, and some of the most impressive lay people imaginable. I have a PhD in theology, I’ve written or edited serious books, advised bishops and archbishops, preached at numerous cathedrals around the world, pioneered effective peace initiatives, inspired successful charities, and, now I am back in parish ministry I am highly regarded -especially by children who love my storytelling.

    Tettenborn thinks it is ‘no disrespect to say to anyone [that is me] that they are not fitted for this role.’ I have my faults – and just like Archbishop Sarah says, dyslexia makes you very aware of your failings – but I have not done badly. I do think it is disrespectful.

    To me, Tettenborn’s article sounds like a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. In response, we should eagerly desire the greater gifts: faith, hope and love. The greatest of these is love and love is kind.

    I didn’t get that from a trendy woke writer – it comes from the heart of the Bible.

  • GAFCON and CEEC

    by Canon Dr Phil Groves, who was a CMS Mission partner and lecturer in theology at St Philip’s Kongwa in Tanzania. He served at the Anglican Communion Office for 10 years. He has attended two Lambeth Conferences, three Primates’ Meetings and four ACCs. He has a PhD on Partnership in the Anglican Communion and is Vicar of the parishes of Cuddington and of Stone, Dinton and Hartwell. He is dyslexic and a member of the Church of England’s Neurodiversity Working Group

    Robert Thompson is right to point out that the recent alternative Anglican ordinations of seven deacons raises questions of church order.

    Of course this raises questions for the Church of England, but it is the Church of England Evangelical Council (CEEC) that is in the frontline of the issues raised by this and by the GAFCON movement more widely.

    To understand the problem for CEEC, it is worth considering not only the three questions asked by CEEC’s National Director John Dunnett in a letter from the GAFCON 26 conference in Abuja in March but also Andrew Atherstone’s criticisms of the ‘alternative ordinations’.

    First, it is necessary to chart the major changes for GAFCON.

    Major Changes for GAFCON

    GAFCON was formed in 2008 as a renewal movement for the Anglican Communion for those who believed that churches of the Communion that blessed gay unions and accepted gay clergy should be removed from it. To do this they set out to redefine Anglicanism as a confessional church. They wrote and released their own confession – called the Jerusalem Declaration – unique because of its clause on human sexuality. The argument goes that, if we have one confession, we will all walk together without division.

    In October the GAFCON Primates declared themselves to be the Global Anglican Communion (GAC) and called for compete disengagement from the formal Instruments of Communion – the ACC, Primates’ Meeting, Lambeth Conference and the Archbishop of Canterbury.

    Following this, the March GAFCON 26 Conference was being watched carefully. The BBC had noticed that it had been heralded that the GAFCON Primates Council would elect a ‘primus inter pares’ of their own to rival the Archbishop of Canterbury; it was waiting for a big news story. But that did not happen. Instead, the GAFCON Primates appointed a ‘Global Anglican Council’ as a body to ‘provide spiritual and strategic oversight for the Communion’. 

    The ‘Global Anglican Council’ is made up of three categories of people: Primates[i], Advisors, and Guarantors. The propaganda has it that the GAFCON Primates handed over power, but this raises two points. First, they are still on the Council and they have retained the right to remain on it even if they retire as Primates. Secondly, it is right to ask who has taken on power and the answer to that is interesting.

    The Primates

    Only four of the seven Primates are from churches recognised as being in the Anglican Communion: Nigeria, Rwanda, Uganda, and Chile. The others are the Primates of the breakaway Anglican Churches in Brazil and North America, along with the Primate of REACH-SA. The General Secretary is also listed as a Primate and he too is very influential.

    Within this group of churches, there are different positions on women’s ministry. The provinces of Rwanda and Uganda were among those who led the way on women’s ordination and on the empowerment of women in male-dominated societies. The Anglican Church in North America is split and has decided not to have women bishops. The others are all against women in leadership and the collective decision is for there to be no women bishops in GAFCON/GAC churches.

    The Advisors

    The Archbishop of Sydney is one of the five Advisors. Sydney Diocese has a semi-autonomous place within the Anglican Church in Australia as a bastion of reformed theology. Three of the other Advisors have strong connections to Sydney; one is a former Archbishop of Sydney who now oversees the Diocese of the Southern Cross, which has only 9 churches all in other Australian Dioceses. The Diocese of Sydney also has close links to the Bishop of the Church of Confessing Anglicans Aotearoa/New Zealand with only 20 churches. Bishop Andy Lines of the Anglican Network in Europe is also closely aligned to Sydney – ANiE shares the same complementarian theology as Sydney and regards itself as ‘Reformed’.

    When you know that REACH-SA and the province of Chile are both very closely aligned with Sydney Diocese, you can detect a very powerful bloc.

    The final Advisor is Bishop Yassir Eric who is said to be the ‘Presiding Bishop of EKKIOS’. Ekkios is a ‘province in formation’ that is dedicated to the non-geographic discipleship of Muslim Born Believers. They do not appear to have a single church. Their online presence is limited to an AI generated website with no content except a link to a Facebook page with 22 followers and one post in 2026, and a YouTube channel with no content.

    The Guarantors

    The chair of the Guarantors is former Archbishop of Nigeria, Peter Akinola. He is joined by two businessmen: Mr Olayinka Fisher from Nigeria and Mr Emmanuel Kampouris from the USA.

    There is no reason why ordained Ugandan and Rwandan women could not have been among the ‘Guarantors’. This does not look like an oversight; it looks like a deliberate policy.

    The Council and Power

    Power in GAFCON/GAC has decisively moved towards:

    • Those churches who have never been part of the Anglican Communion and never will be.
    • Churches that assert complementarian theology.

    The inclusion of the Bishop from EKKIOS – a church not only without a single actual congregation, but also without an effective online presence – says something about what counts as a valid church.

    All this becomes important in the relationship with the CEEC.

    CEEC and GAFCON/GAC

    Up to now, the leadership of CEEC has wanted to be part of the GAFCON movement as well as the Global South Fellowship of Anglicans (GSFA), but they have questions around whether they are welcome or whether there is one big obstacle in the way.

    In his letter from GAFCON 26 John Dunnett asked three questions that expressed his disquiet at the direction of travel. I quote these in full:

    • First, what is not clear is how, and if, the launch of GAC will have a direct impact or relevance for those of us contending within the Church of England (we do however remain grateful for the ongoing commitment of GAFCON to support those contending within the C of E as well as those who have felt compelled to leave).
    • Second, I noted that the stage was dominated (perhaps even exclusively?) by men. This of course might reflect various cultural sensitivities, but if GAC is to be truly global then this needs to be addressed.
    • Finally, it continues to remain unclear how GAFCON and GSFA might relate going forwards. It is to be hoped that the launch of GAC will not exacerbate differences between them.

    I have been waiting to see if there is a public reply to these excellent questions, but nothing has been forthcoming. We can only speculate, based on the membership of the Council which was announced after the close of the conference and from the action in the alternative ordinations.

    1. What impact will the launch of GAC have for CEEC?

    The Abuja Affirmation calls for ‘principled disengagement’ and ‘constitutional disconnection’ from the Instruments of Communion – including the Archbishop of Canterbury. This means it is not going to be possible to remain within the Church of England and be part of GAFCON/GAC.

    The direction of travel of GAFCON/GAC seems to be away from the core aims of CEEC. John Dunnett is right to be concerned.

    1. Male Domination

    I fully support John Dunnett’s comments over the exclusion of women at GAFCON 26. The future looks even worse. For a start, all the members of the Global Anglican Council are men and most of them men who oppose women in leadership in the church. There will not be any room for significant leadership from women in GAFCON given the power dynamics in the Council.

    The line in CEEC is that there can be disagreement on women’s ministry because, unlike LGBTQI+ inclusion, it is not a creation and salvation issue. However, the Diocese of Sydney (and those influenced by Sydney) has a historic commitment to complementarianism where they have consistently argued that male headship and equality in difference is both a creation and salvation issue.

    John Dunnett would do well to heed the warning of Bishop Emily Onyango from Kenya, a member of the original 2008 GAFCON theological group, who describes the current GAFCON as ‘patriarchal’

    1. GAFCON/GCA and GSFA

    It must be a huge frustration when your allies are divided and this is the case for John Dunnett as he considers the relationship between GAFCON/GAC and GSFA.

    The GSFA is an attractive prospect for CEEC because they are firm on human sexuality but seeking to engage with the Anglican Communion. This is why they are now unacceptable to GAFCON/GAC.

    The problem is that GSFA will be reduced to 11 provinces in the Anglican Communion – some of those very small. No one can argue that they are even a majority of Anglicans in the Global South, let alone a majority in the Anglican Communion.

    GAFCON/GAC and the Alternative Ordinations

    We are once again very grateful to Andrew Atherstone for his article on the alternative ordinations. He is concerned by them.

    A GAFCON/GAC bishop – a bishop from REACH-SA – flew in overnight to ordain seven men in secret. Their names are not released, the sponsoring churches are unnamed and questions as to safeguarding and supervision are unanswered.

    Andrew’s account of the ordinations last year was generally positive, saying they had ‘launched a grand experiment’ and that they had made a ‘bold beginning’. His account of this year’s repeat is different:

    • Last year he found it regrettable that the event was not publicised and the names not released: this year he comments that ‘transparency over ordinations is essential.’
    • Last year he acknowledged that all of the deacons were men, but only in a response to a blog I wrote on this site: this year, in a challenge to the organisers, he directly asks why no women were ordained.
    • Last year he regretted the need for intervention from abroad: this year he is clear that ‘English problems need English solutions’.

    Andrew is right – transparency is essential. GAFCON/GAC is so focused on doctrinal orthodoxy that accountability is not part of the story. The recent history of John Smyth and the Fletchers should make us very afraid.

    The GAFCON/GAC direction towards complementarianism is writ large in these organisations. He claims that a REACH-SA Bishop could ordain women to the permanent diaconate. He is actually wrong: REACH-SA do not ordain women – they ‘make’ deacons. ‘Lady Deacons’ can read the Bible in public worship, teach children and assist in leading singing while lay men can preach, and even, in certain circumstances, baptise and preside at the Lord’s Table. In the polity of REACH-SA, deacons are not ordained.

    His third concern is the way geographic boundaries are crossed. The original Church of England in South Africa bishops were themselves ordained by bishops from the Diocese of Sydney, so it is unsurprising that such boundaries are regarded as immaterial. The GAFCON/GAC model will not accept that ‘English problems need English solutions’.

    Problems ahead for the CEEC

    The likelihood is that GAFCON/GAC will seek to grow by including other churches that adopt the Jerusalem Declaration. We know that the geographic element of church is low on the priority list from the promotion of the ‘presiding bishop’ of EKKIOS to the Council.

    The Confessing Anglican Church is another church seeking membership of GAFCON/GAC. It has adopted the Jerusalem Declaration and their Archbishops were in Abuja. The Secretary General of GAFCON is to speak at their September synod.

    Why should this be a concern for the CEEC? The CAC has a lot of churches in India, but also around the world and it has a UK diocese. The UK ‘diocese’ has very few churches, but a significant social media reach through their UK Bishop Cei Dewar. Bishop Dewar is closely associated with the Tommy Robinson movement: he led the prayers launching the Unite the Kingdom rally last year.

    Bishop Dewar will have no problem in signing the Jerusalem Declaration and it is hard to see the grounds on which GAFCON would reject his church.

    The CEEC is an organisation that will not want to be linked – however distantly – with Tommy Robinson. His abusive appeal to ‘Christian Nationalism’ will be anathema to CEEC.

    The Core of the Problem

    The problem is that GAFCON/GAC basis itself on a false ecclesiology. The Bible does not support the idea that unity comes from doctrinal conformity any more than through institutional discipline (the GSFA model).

    Chrisitan unity is through relationships. Our relationships with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and the relationship of love that binds us in our differences. This is what Jesus and Paul both argued for in the Scriptures. This is what GAFCON/GAC ignores.

    John Dunnett and Andrew Atherstone are asking the right questions. They should be concerned.


    [i] The GAFCON/GAC General Secretary Bishop Paul Donison is listed as a ‘Primate’ indicating a place of influence and power.

  • Alternative Ordinations and the Fracturing of the Church

    by the Revd Robert Thompson, Vicar St Mary’s, Kilburn & St James’, West Hampstead; host of Open Table, London; member of General Synod

    I was brought up in rural north of Ireland, in the Church of Ireland. The Anglicanism that formed me was shaped much more by conservative evangelicalism than by Liberalism or Catholicism. My faith was nurtured not only by Anglicans but by Baptists, Methodists, Presbyterians and other Christians whose commitment to Christ was sincere and transformative. I have known the gifts of charismatic renewal, evangelical preaching and faithful discipleship across denominational boundaries.

    Yet my own spiritual home ultimately became the inclusive Catholic tradition of the Church of England. In making that journey, I have been deeply influenced not only by Anglican Catholicism but also by the wider Catholic tradition and by Orthodoxy. I have been drawn to their profound sense of stillness before the mystery of the God in Jesus Christ, their sacramental vision of creation, and their conviction that the material world, the human body and human relationships are places where God’s presence is revealed. At their best, these traditions hold before us a deeply positive vision of human dignity, grounded in the mystery of the Incarnation itself.

    That theological vision has shaped my ministry. It has taught me to seek Christ in other people, to work for reconciliation between divided Christians, and to recognise the dignity of those of other faiths and of none. In the diverse communities of Kilburn and West Hampstead, where people of many cultures, faiths and backgrounds live alongside one another, this is not simply a theological conviction but a practical necessity. Seeing the image of God in one another, and seeking the common good together, lies at the heart of how I understand Jesus in his portrayal in the Gospels and how I am called to follow.

    I found within the inclusive Catholic tradition of the Church of England a vision that was sacramental, rooted in tradition, intellectually serious, socially engaged and capacious enough to hold profound difference. That breadth has always seemed to me one of Anglicanism’s greatest gifts.

    Perhaps that is why a recent article by Andrew Atherstone, examining a further seven Church of England candidates ordained by bishops of the Reformed Evangelical Anglican Church of South Africa, troubles me deeply [1]. Whatever one’s views on Living in Love and Faith, this is now very clearly no longer simply a debate about sexuality. It is a debate about the nature of the Church itself. The Church of England has always contained disagreement. Catholics, evangelicals and liberals have often disagreed vigorously, sometimes painfully. Yet we remained committed to a common life. We worshipped together, discerned together and ordained together because we recognised that the Church belonged not to any one party or tradition, but to Christ. What Atherstone describes is not an isolated event. Alternative discernment processes, alternative training pathways and alternative ordinations are gradually creating parallel structures of authority. A Church that ceases to trust its own common life inevitably begins to fragment into competing constituencies, each accountable primarily to itself.

    As someone who has spent much of the last few years campaigning for greater independence and accountability in safeguarding, I understand why institutions can lose trust. Institutions sometimes fail. But the answer to institutional failure cannot simply be the creation of alternative institutions whenever we dislike the direction in which the wider body is moving. That path leads not to renewal but to separation.

    My ministry today is exercised in Kilburn, one of the most diverse communities in the country. Here questions of poverty, housing, mental health, migration, loneliness and community cohesion are not abstract policy concerns but daily realities. Our neighbours are Christian, Muslim, Jewish, people of other faiths and people of none. They come from every continent and speak dozens of languages. In such a place, Jesus’ commandment takes on a particular urgency: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, and you shall love your neighbour as yourself” [2]. The neighbour is not the person who agrees with us. The neighbour is the person God has placed beside us. That is true within the Church as much as it is beyond it.

    When I look at the challenges facing our communities, I find it difficult to believe that the pursuit of theological purity is the primary calling of the Church. The Gospel repeatedly directs our attention towards reconciliation, justice, mercy and the building of communities in which people can flourish together. The New Testament consistently presents unity not as an optional extra but as a gift and calling. Writing to a divided Church in Corinth, St Paul insists that “the body does not consist of one member but of many” and that “the eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you.” [3]. Diversity is not a problem to be solved but a reality to be embraced within the life of Christ. That biblical image poses a challenge to every party in the Church. If the eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you”, neither can evangelicals say it to Catholics, nor Catholics to liberals, nor liberals to evangelicals.

    There is a further irony here. The alternative ordinations described by Atherstone are themselves a response to Living in Love and Faith and, more specifically, to the Church’s willingness to commend prayers for same-sex couples who have entered civil marriages. Yet at precisely the moment when some conservatives are constructing alternative systems of discernment, training, ordination and oversight, the Convocations of Canterbury and York, the historic assemblies representing the clergy of the Church of England, are being asked to approve revised Professional Guidelines that remain heavily focused on the conduct of individual clergy, including questions of relationships, marriage and sexual behaviour.?

    Mine is not an argument about discipline. It is an argument about consistency. One side of the present debate is concerned with the regulation of personal conduct. The other concerns the creation of parallel ecclesial structures. One addresses the lives of individual clergy. The other concerns the visible ordering of the Church itself. The development of alternative structures is neither private nor unseen. It is deliberate, organised and public. It is announced in conferences, websites, public statements and ordination services. Whatever one’s views on Living in Love and Faith, it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that these developments raise profound questions about the Church’s common life and common order.

    The question becomes even more pressing in the light of the revised Professional Guidelines currently before Convocation. The Guidelines remind clergy that they serve under the authority of the bishop and commit themselves through the Oath of Canonical Obedience. They state that clergy should “respect and abide by the regulations or requests of the bishop of the diocese in which they serve” and insist that “unless and until a law is changed, the existing law must be kept.” The Guidelines are also intended to assist in determining whether conduct meets the standards required of a clerk in holy orders [4]. As a gay priest, it is difficult not to notice the contrast. Considerable energy is devoted to regulating the intimate lives and relationships of clergy, while far less attention appears to be given to the public construction of alternative structures of discernment, ordination and oversight.

    Historically, Anglicanism has sought to hold together right belief, right conduct and right order. Yet contemporary debates often seem to focus overwhelmingly on the first two while paying remarkably little attention to the third. As a result, many clergy will inevitably ask whether the Church’s concerns are being applied consistently. If we devote enormous energy to questions of personal conduct, should we not also devote equal attention to developments that reshape the structures through which we discern vocation, exercise ministry and express communion? The revised Guidelines remind clergy that they are called to promote peace and reconciliation in the Church and in the world and to strive for the visible unity of Christ’s Church [5]. That aspiration seems difficult to reconcile with the emergence of structures whose purpose is increasingly to create a church within a church.

    Of course there are moments when conscience demands resistance. There are times when the Church must reform. Yet Anglicanism at its best has always sought to hold together what others would separate. It has understood that living faithfully with disagreement is often harder, and more Christian, than walking away.

    The question before us, then, is larger than Living in Love and Faith. Can the Church of England remain a Church broad enough to contain genuine theological difference, or are we becoming a federation of tribes, each constructing its own structures whenever disagreement becomes uncomfortable? I still believe the Anglican instinct is the right one. We need one another because none of us alone possesses the whole truth. The tragedy of our present moment is not that we disagree. Anglicans have always disagreed. The tragedy is that we increasingly seem to doubt that disagreement can be held within a common life.

    In the seventeenth chapter of St John’s Gospel, on the night before his death, Jesus prays for his disciples “that they may all be one” [6] It is a prayer not for uniformity but for communion; not for agreement in every matter but for a unity rooted in the love of God. That prayer remains unfinished. It is a calling entrusted to every generation of Christians. Once we cease to believe that Christ can hold together people with whom we profoundly disagree, far more than a debate about sexuality is at stake. We risk losing confidence in the very prayer of Jesus himself. More profoundly still, we risk losing confidence in the God whose creative love is capable of holding together difference itself, the God who creates, sustains and reconciles all things.

    Notes

    1. Andrew Atherstone, “More Alternative Anglican Ordinations”, Law & Religion UK, 15 June 2026.
    2. Mark 12.30–31.
    3. 1 Corinthians 12.14, 21.
    4. Draft Professional Guidelines for the Clergy, Convocation of Canterbury FS(26)4, June 2026, especially sections 1–3 on clergy discipline, canonical obedience, episcopal authority and the obligation to observe existing law. Convocation is the historic representative assembly of the clergy of the provinces of Canterbury and York and is responsible for agreeing the Professional Guidelines for Clergy.
    5. Draft Professional Guidelines for the Clergy, paragraph 3.5: clergy are called to “promote peace and reconciliation in the church and in the world” and to strive for “the visible unity of Christ’s Church”.
    6. John 17.21.
  • Bruised Reeds and Mustard Seeds   

     by the Revd Jody Stowell, Vicar of St Michael and All Angels, Harrow Weald and member of General Synod

                                                          

    The book above has come out of a number of years of struggle and frustration as a parish priest of a smaller church. In the introductory chapter I describe it as a ‘passion project’ and that has been what it is, with bells on! I am utterly convinced that the value, worth and endeavour of smaller churches is one of the most underestimated resources in the Church today, and particularly in the Church of England. Current obsessions with growth in numbers and finance often land squarely on the shoulders of local parish priests and their congregations. My desire for the book is that those who find themselves reading it are uplifted, encouraged and above all feel less isolated and alone in their call to lead, serve in or attend a smaller church.

    The well-being, particularly of clergy has been on my heart for a long time. I’ve had to attend to my own well-being in my ministry, and I know what it is to wrestle with the very real need of finances for a church to function, and the small numbers of congregation who are living in a cost-of-living crisis and who, even if they weren’t, would be unable to pay the standard cost of ministry, which covers the cost of the vicar, including pension, housing and training, as well as more general mission costs of the diocese, and which in my diocese is over £105k. It’s hard to carry the weight of seeing the mission of God through the lens of increase and growth, attendance and finance. Clergy and congregations often find themselves focusing on how to reach the biggest growth, rather on what the Spirit is calling them to.

    The book talks of what ‘small’ means. This is often the first question I get asked, I suspect because many would like my definition not to include them! One way to alleviate anxiety around being a small church is to deny that it includes you. The definition of ‘small’ used in the book is fairly wide and generous, focusing more on the idea of ‘Smaller Church Energy’, and the charisms that are inherent to smaller church communities; for example, nimbleness, attentiveness to the Spirit and belonging.

    I then explore issues around anxiety, aiming to offer comfort and challenge. We inhabit an institution which is highly anxious, and anxiety transmits. When anxiety drives an institution, we can end up with solutions which are about soothing the anxiety that comes from financial insecurity, rather than being a church able to catch unexpected glimpses of the Spirit in places and through people that are undervalued, unseen, invisible in both the institution and the nation. The solutions, programs and conferences offered can act like a drug, a form of self-medication against the anxiety, but which can’t last. So the anxiety is passed on until it often lands on the parish priest to deliver the shiny initiative that will somehow save the Church of England. No wonder clergy are leaving ministry early, often sick, stressed and disillusioned.

    But the smaller church is a gift. Even as we name the challenges, there is a golden thread running through Scripture of God illuminating the places that are weary, marginalised, vulnerable, fragile and small. Bruised reeds and mustard seeds, or Bethlehem the littlest clan. God is drawn to these places, and they are also the places from whence God comes. These places are not simply to be ‘done to’ – to be helped and ‘resourced’ from bigger and better entities – but are also places which can help the anxious institution lay down its anxiety rather than passing it on. Such places can resource their bigger neighbours and teach them how to be faithful in the face of a multiplicity of temptations to focus on success in numerical terms.

    I’ve chosen to dedicate one chapter to clergy well-being, not because I think it is only the clergy who are impacted by this institutional anxiety and obsession, but because they are often the ones who hold the anxiety from ‘above and below’.  Clergy do need to set a tone, or tell the story about who they are again and again to their communities. It is very easy for congregations to be demoralized and anxious themselves. They know that money is required to keep going, and the threat of closing smaller churches can lead to an expectation that somehow their vicar can ‘fix it’. And this is a dangerous place for clergy to be. Edwin Friedman, who wrote on leadership, warns

    The position that is most dangerous to a leader’s health is what I call the “togetherness position,” in which the leader feels responsible for keeping a system together. Such leaders are most likely to suffer burnout, function badly, or suddenly die when forces pulling in opposite directions have stretched their capacity to hold things together to its breaking point. (Friedman, Location 4015)

    Sadly, it can be literally life-threatening not to deal with our institutional anxiety issue.

    There is also a requirement for clergy to choose boundaries and non-anxious responses. In our parishes, we do actually have quite a lot of autonomy. One of the challenges that I offer in this chapter on clergy well-being is for clergy to resist the narrative and begin to be catalysts themselves for the unsticking of this institution that we not only work for, but love, because it is to this part of the Body of Christ that we are called.

    I finish with a chapter which offers some ways forward, although I’m careful not to be offering the ‘quick-fix’ to soothe the anxiety! As this is quite a new conversation, there are not necessarily models to copy, and the reality of smaller church is that it is rightly contextual, even hyper-contextual – and so ‘off the peg’ doesn’t work so well in our places. All offerings will necessarily need re-contextualizing in a new place. However, there are a couple of pathways that are being explored and I offer three of these for pondering. The hope is that this lifts the debilitating fog of isolation that stops us from thinking well, and helps us to recognise that there are others (I would argue most of us!) who are trying to navigate this strange land. One of the pathways being offered, by Bishop Guli to Chelmsford Diocese, is Travelling Well Together. It is undefensive and honouring of the realities of local small parish churches. We are told that

    For the foreseeable future, there will be no more diocesan initiatives outlining common approaches to mission and evangelism. Rather, we are seeking to tip the traditional organisational hierarchy on its head, to enable and empower local churches and worshipping communities to discern for yourselves what it means to be God’s people in your particular part of the world (Chelmsford, 2023).

    Bishop Guli challenges her diocese that, when a community is under threat, something of which she has first-hand experience, it has three choices: fight, flee and take the consequences or strengthen the inner life. She chooses, for herself and the church, the third option and I will leave you with an excerpt from the book on this:

    ‘However, [strengthening the inner life] is not an easy way. Our anxiety is still something we need to own and understand. And that anxiety may not be entirely erased because the external narrative has changed in one area of the institution. So, if we are not given a strategy from the central institution, then we potentially have no one to blame for our failure to live up to the image of success that we still hold. There is no focus to receive, and therefore soothe, our anxiety. If we tried the strategy and it didn’t work, then it is ‘their’ fault. If there is no strategy other than strengthening that inner life, getting closer to God, being faithful in the ministry to which we are called, then that is our responsibility. This is a good thing! It is not easy, but it is not hard in the way that being told to control things outside of our control is hard. It is hard in the way that tilling the earth is hard work, that picking fruit is hard work, that listening well is hard work, that making up a spare room for a guest is hard work. There is satisfaction, rather than frustration.’

  • All About LLF: the February Synod Debate

    by Felicity Cooke, a lay member of General Synod for Ely Diocese, a former member of the Leicester Working Groups, and a trustee of  Together for the Church of England

    There seems to be some confusion still about what happened at General Synod on 12th February 2026, three long years after the beginning of the journey of Living in Love and Faith (LLF) through General Synod. So here’s an attempt to explain it, from someone who was in the room. A reminder that what’s under debate are two moves towards a fuller welcome for lesbian and gay couples: first, accepting that clergy, ordinands and those exploring their call to ministry can be in same sex civil marriages (they can already be in same sex civil partnerships) and, second, permitting the use of the Prayers of Love and Faith (PLF) in standalone services. These Prayers were commended by the Bishops back in 2023 but can currently only be used in existing services.

    The motion

    At Synod, we were presented with a Motion from the Archbishop of York which affirmed what had been clear for some months: ‘that the LLF Programme and all work initiated by the February 2023 LLF Motion and subsequent LLF Motions will conclude by July 2026’. The Motion in full read as follows:

    That this Synod:

    (a) recognise and lament the distress and pain many have suffered during the LLF process, especially LGBTQI+ people;

    (b) affirm that the LLF Programme and all work initiated by the February 2023 LLF Motion and subsequent LLF Motions will conclude by July 2026;

    (c) thank the LLF Working Groups for their committed and costly work, which will now draw to a close with the conclusion of this synodical process;

    (d) commend the House of Bishops in establishing the Relationships, Sexuality and Gender Working Group and Relationships, Sexuality and Gender Pastoral Consultative Group for continuing work.

    After nearly five hours of debate on the Motion and on eight amendments, the unamended Motion was passed by Synod by a vote in all three Houses:

    For Against Abstained
    House of Bishops  34 0  2
    House of Clergy 109 62 10
    House of Laity 107 70  9

    That’s interesting because it showed a very clear majority in favour in all three Houses.

    But in favour of what? The end of LLF, or a new beginning?

    To answer that, we first need a diversion into Synodical procedures, as set out in our Standing Orders.

    Doing the numbers

    Before we all voted, a member moved a ‘procedural motion’ asking for a ‘counted vote of the whole Synod’. That was rapidly followed by another member calling for a ‘vote by Houses’. If 25 members stand to support this, it happens. And they did. A ‘vote by Houses’ has often featured in LLF debates and it always trumps a ‘counted vote of the whole Synod’. It means that each House votes separately, so it gives a clearer picture of who thinks what – and as names are registered with votes, that goes to the level of individual voters.

    But this particular procedural motion also makes it harder to pass anything because the motion or amendment must pass in all three Houses, meaning that the main reason to ask for a vote by Houses is if you want it to fail.

    Here’s an intriguing question: what would the result have been if the initial call, for a counted vote of the whole Synod, had succeeded? This is one of the interesting points about that whole long afternoon in Church House. When we put together the results of the three Houses, they show an overall vote in favour of 65.6%, with 34.4% opposed. Is it an irony that this is a bigger margin than in any of the previous successful LLF votes in February 2023, November 2023 and July 2024? Context is all important in thinking about that question.

    Autumn 2025: stalling

    Let’s go back to last October, when the House of Bishops issued a statement which was a precursor of the motion brought to Synod last month. This statement articulated the view of the House that LLF had essentially ground to a halt. Working groups had been set up to advise on process and procedure for the PLF to be used in ‘standalone’ (or ‘bespoke’) services. Meeting in Leicester, these groups had argued for such freedom to use the PLF to be accompanied by ‘protections’ for those who did not wish to do so. But these protections, characterised as ‘Delegated Episcopal Ministry’ (DEM), could not be accepted by the House of Bishops. DEM would mean that a diocesan bishop could ‘delegate’ some of their role to other, more conservative, bishops. But all (or almost all) of the bishops, whether inclusive or conservative, found DEM unacceptable. For some, such provisions were not enough: for others they went too far.

    In addition, the bishops decided that ‘in principle … both bespoke service and clergy same-sex marriage would need formal synodical and legislative processes to be completed before they could be permitted.’ So the PLF can still only be used in a regular service, not a special one.

    The immediate response amongst inclusive or progressive groups and individuals was of deep disappointment. It seemed that years of work both inside and outside Synod were to be abandoned. Over the years since LLF started in 2017, there have only been two small pieces of movement: the permission to use PLF in existing services and jettisoning Issues in Human Sexuality. That’s not much for countless hours spent in debates, discussions and working groups, not to mention an estimated total expenditure on the LLF process of £1.6 million.

    Throughout autumn 2025, arguments were pitched from all sides, some wanting the bishops to embrace a more positive agenda, others to call a halt to everything which Synod had voted for in 2023.

    The responses from those holding inclusive views included powerful sermons from the Deans of Southwark and Canterbury, as well as an Open Letter led by Inclusive Church (IC). In the press release accompanying that Open Letter, IC said:

    The Living in Love and Faith process has shown that the majority of the Church of England, clergy and laity alike, now long for a Church where LGBTQ+ people are fully welcomed and celebrated. Many want to see their grandchildren able to be married in church, their trans family members affirmed, and their Church reflect the generous heart of God.

    The letter was signed by nearly 7,000 lay and clergy people, from 3001 churches across the Church of England.

    Things became particularly intense in November 2025, when the legal advice offered to the House of Bishops was published as the paper GS Misc 1432. Many times in the last few years there had been calls from conservatives for the full legal advice and we were assured that this paper offered the same advice that the bishops had been given before. Not everyone agreed with the paper’s legal interpretation; see for example here.

    Yet another meeting of the House of Bishops took place in December, considering this legal advice and some theological papers. In mid-December, in another powerfully expressed sermon in Canterbury Cathedral, the Dean of Bristol asked the bishops where, among them, were  ‘those who will stand up against legalism, who will expedite processes for standalone services and lifting the ban on clergy entering same sex marriages?’

    2026: the waiting game

    But the bishops did not rise to her challenge. Their January Statement repeated and endorsed the position expressed in October.

    And so we entered yet another waiting game; what would be the actual motion to come to Synod in February? When it arrived in the Synod documents there was deep disappointment, even hostility to the thrust of the motion. The ‘apology’ in clause (a) seemed lacklustre and insincere (as one speaker in Synod said in the debate on the unsuccessful amendment to change this, ‘sorry means you won’t do it again’). As for clause (b), the idea that the LLF Programme could conclude by July 2026 was a slap in the face not only for all the members of the Leicester working groups who had sent a strong message to the bishops to act on their proposals, but to those in Synod who had voted in favour of the motions on LLF passed in February and November 2023 and July 2024. There was deep suspicion about the new working groups which the House of Bishops intended to set up – clause (d) – not only about the terms of reference detailed in GS 2426, but in its proposed membership and how members were to be appointed. There was a widespread feeling that the voices of the normally silent majority had been ignored.

    February: voting for further movement

    Yet, as I explained at the start of this blog post, in February the House of Bishops Motion was passed by a larger majority across the whole of Synod than any other previous LLF motion.

    How did this come about? Perhaps even those most dedicated of Synod watchers would be defeated by a detailed account of the eight amendments which were debated, and fell, during those five hours of debate. In brief, these were an amendment to make the apology more meaningful and sincere, an amendment to acknowledge theological diversity amongst LGBTQI+ (sic) people, one calling on the bishops to apologise for not taking legal advice and thus falsely raising hopes, one to remove the clause bringing the LLF process to a halt, another to allow a conscience clause on the use of the PLF in standalone services, another to remove the clause setting up the new working groups, one to add a means by which the Leicester working groups would be asked to provide a foundation for the work of the new working groups, and finally an amendment asking that the new working groups be organised so as to ensure that a majority of the members would be in favour of standalone services and full inclusion of clergy in same sex civil marriages, with regular reports on progress to Synod. Some of these amendments sought to strengthen the Motion, some sought either to weaken it or even render it meaningless.

    As would eventually happen with the main motion, there were calls for votes by Houses. Each of these amendments fell in the House of Bishops and (for the most part) in the other Houses too. So, given the dissatisfaction with the main motion and the disappointment, if not despair, at the events of the previous six months, what led to its approval?

    It was an odd motion because, as you can see in clause (d), Synod was only ‘commending’ something which the bishops were going to do anyway. They did not need synodical approval. But if Synod rejected the motion, the setting up of more working groups could mean the work was delayed or even abandoned. It would give scope for bishops who were uncomfortable with the proposed scheme of work to argue that it wasn’t needed.

    The initial response of Together for the Church of England, and its supporters, had been to vote against the motion, unless it proved possible to amend it. Another option would be to abstain, to demonstrate the despair with which it was being received. But it became clear that those who were opposed to the LLF process, who were unwilling even to give room for the PLF, were prepared to vote it down. Those of different views knew that putting in amendments could at least give a chance to air their views. Knowing the balance of opinion in Synod (unrepresentative as it is of opinion across the wider Church) the pragmatic decision was to vote in favour, unless the motion was amended so as to make it toothless. That way, at least some work continues.

    Over the course of the debate, the most powerful speeches were those from clergy in faithful and committed same sex relationships, some going back many decades, who spoke of their reactions to the various statements by the bishops; statements which seemed to have lost sight of the real people whose lives go on being affected by this.

    And now?

    Because their motion has passed, the House of Bishops now has a significant majority decision from Synod to support the continuation of the LLF legacy. As I’ve shown, this majority is the largest in any LLF vote across the years from 2023 to now. LLF may be over, but there is a new beginning. The challenge to the bishops is therefore to bring about meaningful change through the ‘Relationships, Sexuality and Gender Working Group’ and ‘Relationships, Sexuality and Gender Pastoral Consultative Group’. Let us hope that the memberships of the two groups are appropriately filled with those whose goal is to not to obstruct the change which so many ordinary people in the Church wish to see with all their hearts.

  • The Cost of Calling: Then and Now

    by the Rev’d Chantal Noppen – National Coordinator of the Inclusive Church Network, North-East based Anglican Priest and member of General Synod for Durham Diocese

    Seventeen years ago, a woman priest was told she would receive zero maternity pay because she might “take the money and run.”

    The assumption was clear: motherhood made her suspect. Her vocation was conditional. At no point in her three years of training had anyone from her diocese spoken to her about maternity provision, even though she had given birth to a baby in her second year of training and was pregnant when she was ordained deacon.

    As she began her curacy: “The first thing the Diocesan Secretary told me was that I would receive my full stipend throughout my maternity leave. I was delighted by the simplicity and generosity of this which I felt reflected my own commitment and a relationship of trust between clergy and Diocese. However, the next day he called me back and said he was very sorry but having consulted with other Dioceses we did in fact have a standard maternity policy which had been adopted from ‘standard business practice’.

    “What this meant was that I received no maternity pay at all. The ‘standard policy’ he referred to (but had 24 hours earlier been completely unaware of) meant that as I had been an ’employee’ for less than 12 months at the time of the leave, I was not entitled to any maternity pay. A clause designed to stop people exploiting maternity pay in the business world perhaps – but a slap in the face when you’ve just given your whole life to God and the service of God’s church in ordination. I was not an employee. Did anyone really feel I was going to take the money and run?”

    Because she had been an actual employee while training part-time for ministry, she was fortunate enough to qualify for Statutory Maternity Pay. Those training full-time were not in this position.

    Two years ago, I co-authored an independent audit of diocesan maternity provision across the Church of England. The report documented inconsistency, opacity and, in some cases, failure to implement the national guidance issued four years earlier. Over 100 recommendations were made. Some dioceses have since improved their policies. That is genuinely welcome.

    But the deeper question remains: what does our system reveal about the actual value of women? The woman whose experience opens this story writes “I felt like as a woman my job was to do it all – to prove it could all be done. It never crossed my mind at the time to ask for more help, better provision or new ways of doing things.”

    At General Synod I asked about the financial provision behind our theological commitments. From 2019–2023 the Church Commissioners spent on average £497,000 per year on stipend and working costs for the four Provincial Episcopal Visitors, plus £67,500 annually in housing costs. The same body provides no funding specifically in support of the ministry of ordained women.

    The only national funding stream directed toward women’s development in 2023 was £73,000 from the Women’s Continuing Ministerial Education Trust, administered by the Archbishops’ Council, not the Commissioners, and available to lay, ordained or religious women, in both the Church of England and the Scottish Episcopal Church. This Trust is independent, and the CofE’s direct involvement is purely through some MinDiv support administratively. So we’re actually looking at over £550,000 versus nothing.

    Budgets are theology with spreadsheets.

    For thirty years we have structurally underwritten dissent. We have not structurally underwritten parity. We safeguard the inequitable status quo and struggle to raise up The Other. Justice isn’t cushioned.

    The maternity audit showed similar asymmetry at diocesan level. National guidelines were issued in 2020, yet implementation varies widely. In some dioceses maternity provision is clearly communicated and proactively managed. In others it depends on local interpretation, overstretched individuals or informal knowledge. While I have not done a similar audit on menopause policies and support, I have heard anecdotally that the same is true there. With the added aspect of the menopause being a far more uncomfortable topic to discuss openly, whereas women having babies is a bit more ‘acceptable’ to acknowledge.

    Policies may exist on paper, but the support to implement them and accountability if they are not, is missing. When I transferred part of my maternity leave as shared parental leave to my partner, whose NHS employer processed it smoothly, my diocese nearly failed to implement its own policy. Papers were misfiled. Approval came ten days before the transition was due. This stress was entirely avoidable.

    These are not dramatic scandals. They are accumulations of inequitable cost. They create stress at moments when clergy are already stretched.

    There is also what we do not measure. We lack robust national data on how many women are steered towards self-supporting ministry, house-for-duty posts, or part-time roles that in practice require full-time emotional and pastoral labour. We know this pattern exists. We hear it repeatedly. But without data, the system remains conveniently deniable.

    Part-time pay rarely equates to part-time expectation.

    Culture compounds structure. Male clergy often receive visible parish care when they become parents (or just arrive in a parish). Women encounter suspicion about their commitment. During maternity leave, some are strongly discouraged from maintaining friendships within their congregations, creating isolation at precisely the moment community is most needed. Add neurodivergent literalism or rigid interpretations of “boundary,” and what might be intended as good practice becomes damaging exclusion.

    None of this is catastrophic in isolation. Together, it is exhausting. It impacts mental health and well-being, and constantly adds burden and cost to day-to-day existence.

    It would be easy to frame this as resentment. It is not. It is about reciprocity.

    When women were first ordained, significant institutional resource was provided for those who could not accept that development. Generous financial settlements were negotiated. Housing was provided. Pensions protected. Some left for Rome. Some later returned. The Church absorbed that cost and continues to do so.

    Women, meanwhile, continue to have to argue and negotiate for clarity around maternity provision diocese by diocese, to have to justify childcare, part-time ministry, and shared leave. Women have absorbed the cost. We’ve been constantly treated as second rate and have to prove ourselves continually in a way that men are not required to.

    If we believe women are equally called, then structural equity is not an aspirational extra. It is an ecclesiological necessity.

    The 2024 audit prompted some positive changes. Several dioceses revised policies before publication. Others have committed to clearer communication and better provision. Scrutiny can work. Transparency and accountability work.

    But transparency must go further. We need national data on patterns of deployment. We need honest examination of whether women are disproportionately steered into precarious or under-remunerated roles. We need systems that do not rely on personal resilience, goodwill, or quiet endurance.

    Motherhood is not a deviation from priesthood. Shared parenting is not radical. Women’s bodies are not a pastoral inconvenience. Gender is not a spiritual failing.

    The question is no longer whether change is possible. It is whether we have the will to pursue it beyond the minimum required to avoid embarrassment.

    We often speak of mutual flourishing. Mutuality requires reciprocity. Flourishing requires investment.

    If our financial structures still cushion objection more consistently than they sustain embodiment, what does that reveal about whose vocation we are most anxious to protect? Who do we more value?

    That is not a rhetorical question.

     

     

  • Leaving in Love and Faith?

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

    I am writing this piece in Church House, the morning after a five-hour debate on Living in Love and Faith (LLF). As with many lengthy debates, the interpretation of what was agreed and what happens next can be unclear. The public understanding and the reporting by the press has not been helped by the Church House Comms team not having any prepared statement ready in the aftermath of the debate explaining the context and nuance of what happened; one has now been issued. As a result of this void, some of the headlines, such as the BBC’s “Church of England abandons proposals for same-sex blessing ceremonies”, were eye-catchingly negative but also quite wrong. As someone who was in the chamber for the debate, and involved in much of the discussions behind the scenes leading up to it, I offer this to help understand what really happened.

    The House of Bishops had brought forward a motion that did four things. First, there was an apology for all the distress and pain caused during the LLF process, especially to LGBTQIA+ people. Next was a statement that LLF would draw to a close, although I will unpack what that means later. Third was thanks to all those involved in the work of the LLF process. Finally, and most substantially, Synod was asked to commend the House of Bishops’ proposal for what would happen next.

    The Archbishop of York, in presenting the motion, stated how this was a way forward around which the House of Bishops could cohere. That would be important as many of the areas of further work, particularly around clergy equal marriage and standalone services of blessing using the Prayers of Love and Faith, would need the House of Bishops to get behind them if they were to progress.

    For the first clause, the apology, there were several amendments seeking either to strengthen this or to change its focus. The move to strengthen the apology came from Charlie Baczyk-Bell, who in a powerful and emotional speech expressed a direct call from LGBTQIA+ people underlining the failings so far of LLF and the need to acknowledge the ongoing damage to LGBTQIA+ people. While none of the amendments regarding the apology passed, it was encouraging that there were bishops who were moved to vote in favour of strengthening the apology. I know from speaking with some bishops in Church House that the apology offered in the motion is genuine.

    The second clause was a change of methodology, but not of direction. It effectively said that the grand project known as LLF, begun in 2017, would draw to a close. It was not saying that the underlying issues had gone away, nor that no further work would be done, something that only became clear in the final clause. Living in Love and Faith had sought to address LGBTQIA+ inclusion, the measures that could be passed to advance it and the provision necessary for those of a traditional outlook as a result. This has made the process rather heavy and cumbersome, with forward movement in one area stalling because of work in others not being ready. In trying to deliver a whole package of measures together, LLF has buckled under its own weight. This clause in the motion is not, as the press have inaccurately claimed, the end of work towards inclusion. Rather it acknowledges that LLF has run its course, that some measures have passed and others will be taken forward through different, more focussed routes. This has the advantage that some of the most controversial ideas on provision for those opposed to inclusive change are not baked into proposals. The Bishop of Chelmsford spoke in the debate to make clear that it was these divisive measures, such as Delegated Episcopal Ministry, which had made the full package approach of LLF unacceptable to the Bishops, and that future plans would not be dependent on such major structural changes that would undermine our ecclesiology.

    We should not forget that, through LLF, since 2023 we have had commended liturgy of blessing those in a committed same-sex relationship for use in regular services. Some would argue that this liturgy is also available for clergy to use in other contexts under canon law. Following a Private Member’s Motion to Synod, there has also been the withdrawal of the controversial Issues in Human Sexuality document as pastoral guidelines to which clergy have to sign up, something on which the Together on General Synod group led the way in July 2025.

    The third clause thanking members of working groups for their work was uncontroversial, the fourth – detailing the way ahead – being the main point of substance. Before this debate, the point we had reached was there are two outstanding items of business. The first is equal clergy marriage: those in a same-sex marriage currently cannot receive a licence to minister or go into the vocations, training and ordination process. The second concerns questions around the full use of the Prayers of Love and Faith, in particular whether they could be used in “standalone” services.

    The proposal from the Bishops was to continue that work under a newly-formed group. When papers for Synod first came out, many pushed back at this, seeing it as yet another working group, meaning yet more delay. However, there is a subtle difference this time around, as the group will be more focussed on specific issues and tasked with bringing proposals back to the House of Bishops on how to get things done. The papers before Synod had already outlined some options, such as making amendments to the Canons to allows clergy to marry freely. Those of us advocating for inclusive change recognise that the Bishops want to do this with substantial due process, giving any changes the most secure legislative underpinning as possible. If this can be achieved, then the accompanying inclusive change will stand on secure foundations.

    The fact is that, if we want to definitively allow clergy equal marriage, we will require change to the canons. That in turn requires a working group that can evaluate the options, draw up papers and recommend how it could be done. There will then need to be a body, in this case the House of Bishops, to sponsor that change to the canons and present it to General Synod. And then General Synod will need to go through the legal process to ensure the legislation is sound, well drafted and enacts the policy that Synod is wanting to see. That may sound lengthy and laborious, and it will be, but it is also how deep, enduring change is best constructed and embedded into our common life.

    After five hours of debate, we reached a point where all amendments brought were rejected (some by greater margins than others) and we voted on the original motion as brought by the House of Bishops.

    Inclusive members within the Chamber had a choice. We could vote for the motion, and for the journey towards greater inclusion to continue. We could abstain, explaining separately the rationale behind this choice. Or we could vote against and completely undermine any pathway towards deliverable outcomes. That could mean the cessation not only of the LLF process but of any future work on LGBTQIA+ inclusion, for years to come.

    We came into Synod with many on the inclusive side being very uncomfortable in voting for the motion. Over the week, the choice became clearer that we either supported the Bishops in continuing work, or we came alongside conservative voices who wanted it to stop altogether. The key factor in the inclusive group swinging heavily behind work continuing was testimony from LGBTQIA+ members, particularly clergy, that while this had been deeply painful for them they wanted us to keep going. Some courageous and heartfelt speeches from Claire Robson, Rachel Mann, Matt Edwards and others were profoundly moving; do watch them on the Church House YouTube record if you can. I continue to be in awe of the patience and faithfulness of LGBTQIA+ Christians who have every reason to turn their back on the Church, yet persist in solidarity with each other and keep following Christ despite the hostility and pain they are often shown. Speaking as a straight ally, they are an inspiration to me.

    The final motion was passed with 65.6% in favour, indicating a strong mandate for the work to continue. There have been four major LLF debates so far (February 23, November 23, July 24 and this one), and this margin of support is the largest we have seen yet. What needs to happen now is for the House of Bishops, who supported the motion with none voting against, to own this and drive it forward. We have learnt much through LLF, but we need to take that learning and translate it into action. Then it will be for the General Synod to take recommendations and pass them, so that more barriers to full inclusion can be dismantled.

    It will not however be this set of General Synod members who will make those decisions, because there is a General Synod election in late summer this year. Those who long for inclusive change, and hear the call from our faithful LGBTQIA+ Synod members to keep going, need to organise for those elections. Together for the Church of England and Inclusive Church are in partnership on this; do follow us on social media, subscribe to our newsletters and check our websites for more ways to do this. Together has diocesan networks across the church who are organising for the elections. More information on what will be happening and how you can make a difference will be released over coming weeks and months. If we can extend the inclusive membership in Synod, which is already substantial, then the work guaranteed by this most recent vote on LLF will be able to deliver so much more. A more inclusive, diverse and compassionate church is possible, and the way to achieve it is clear. The question is whether the broad inclusive majority in the church can step up and seize the moment.

  • A Response to “The Exercise of Discipline and Clergy Exemplarity in the Church of England: The Case of Same-Sex Civil Marriages: A Report of the Faith and Order Commission” (GS Misc 1431)

    Fr Thomas Sharp is a priest theologian based in the South East of England and is also Provincial Secretary of the Society of Catholic Priests

    This was the third report which briefed the House of Bishops before they made their decisions in October about Living in Love and Faith (LLF). It purports to explore theological issues relating to three possible ways by which clergy in a marriage to a person of the same sex might be licensed in the Church of England. It also purports to explore what it means that clergy are called to an exemplary life, and what implications there might be for licensing married people who currently would need a civil partnership in order to be licensed.

    The Report claims to do all this whilst ‘not endeavour[ing] to resolve those differences, either finding for one side or making clear a previously unknown path to consensus’ (§214). It does this by almost entirely sidelining the views and voices of LGBTQIA+ people, presenting a viewpoint significantly informed by North American Evangelicalism as if it were a balanced presentation of Anglican variety. Of the 24 modern theologians engaged with in this report (Gregory Nazianzen and George Herbert are the other two theologians included):

    • 100% are white
    • 96% are white men
    • 83% are straight or in opposite sex marriages
    • 46% are North American
    • 12% are ex-gay / same-sex-attracted identifying evangelicals
    • Only one person, at 4% of the whole, is an affirming gay Anglican with a partner.

    The one affirming gay Anglican contribution cited is from Jeffrey John, in a book which was published in 1993 when I was two years old.

    This report does not meaningfully engage with the theology produced by or read by LGBTQIA+ Anglicans, or people who hold an inclusive theology. Simply directing us to the LLF Resources does not constitute theological engagement (§100). This report is not balanced or representative. It should not have represented itself as being such.

    However, it is lengthy and technical, and gives a very good sense of being comprehensive, even whilst it utterly fails to present or even really take into account the voices of those most affected by its subject matter. This is a shamefully inadequate Report whose omissions (wilful or otherwise) have potential to mislead its readers.

    In order to make this meandering and confusing report more intelligible, my response to it comes under six headings:

    1. Make doctrine a moving target
    2. “Communal regulation”, discipline and toxic theologies of power
    3. Are the clergy a special case?
    4. Leading us to think we are talking about sex whenever marriage is mentioned
    5. Despite divorce, we really do still hold to the traditional doctrine of marriage
    6. Disempower the Bishops

    This is a report which overwhelms by the sheer variety of arguments it includes. Here, I cannot deal with them all, particularly the biblical section and its lack of meaningful engagement with LGBTQIA+ readings of important texts.

     

    1 – Make doctrine a moving target

    The FAOC Report on Doctrine defined doctrine as: ‘true knowledge about God that is communally authorised by warrant in the Holy Scriptures and is, therefore, communally regulative’ (GS Misc 1429, §146). However, in this report, that simple definition varies. Early on, ‘authorised by warrant in the Holy scriptures’ is watered down and communal regulation does not appear: ‘Doctrine… is true knowledge about the living God, grounded in or agreeable to the Holy Scriptures, that the Church of England determines by a process of communal authorisation’ (§8).

    Later, elements of both are mixed as doctrine is ‘true knowledge about the living God that is communally authorised and communally regulative’ (§84 & §212). But the scriptures seem to have vanished. On one level this might be a symptom of speedy or sloppy drafting. However, on another, it could be understood as an attempt to give an impression of a clear definition of what doctrine is and how it operates in these arguments, without being willing to be pinned down to any actually clear definition. This sort of slipperiness and unclarity of meaning runs throughout the report.

     

     2 – “Communal regulation”, discipline and toxic theologies of power

    A theological high point comes in §§12-17, when the heresy of Donatism is dealt with and it is concluded that individuals and the wider church can have confidence in the sacramental ministry of a minister, even if they err in doctrine. However, as the report proceeds to outline a theology of discipline, it is unnervingly one-way, authoritarian and entirely lacking in awareness of the operative theologies of power which have led to both the abuse crisis in the worldwide Church and the failure of the Church of England itself to respond meaningfully to abuse.

    The report links discipline with discipleship, and it is established with reference to The Homilies that ‘it is imperative to think of discipline in both its proactive, formative sense and also its reformative and punitive senses in order to understand it fully’ (§17). This is good, but the formative is not really considered. It is the reformative and punitive senses of discipline with which this report is interested, i.e. what sledge-hammers the bishops can hit us with, whether it be for our benefit or to teach us a lesson.

    A survey then follows of reformative discipline as described in the liturgies of ordination of deacons, priests and bishops in Common Worship and the BCP. It entirely lacks any meaningful awareness of the fact that the power to discipline can be incredibly dangerous, despite the liturgy enjoining the bishop to use their authority: ‘not to destruction, but to salvation; not to hurt, but to help’ (§24). The vocation of a bishop ‘to minister discipline, but with compassion’ leads to a reminder that even a compassionate bishop may also need to punish: ‘it may be that such a response is the compassionate one’ (§27). But there is no awareness in the report that hurt and destruction, i.e. abuse, may result from such episcopal behaviour.

    The rather odd concept of “communal regulation”, which I explored (and we were all no doubt confused by) in the liturgical context with reference to the report on Doctrine, reappears. Apparently, the vow made by bishops to ‘accept the discipline of this Church, exercising authority with justice, courtesy and love’ (§29) is when a bishop puts themselves under “communal regulation”. What is entirely overlooked is the significance of justice, courtesy and love in the exercise of that ministry by any individual bishop, or the College or House of Bishops as a whole.

    The same blinkered focus is apparent in the report’s reading of the latter part of the consecration prayer:

    Further on the Archbishop prays, ‘Give him humility, that he may use his authority to heal, not to hurt; to build up, not to destroy’, a reference to 2 Cor 10:8 and 13:10. The emphasis, like in the rephrased declaration, is on the corrective and reformative aspects of discipline.

    It takes deliberate one-track thinking to fail to spot the critique of punitive authoritarian power in this prayer. Punitive authority is the focus of this report. That seems to be what “communal regulation” actually means.

    This disturbing theology of power in the report comes out strongly when clergy families are considered. Canon C26’s injunction to the minister to order their life and their family’s lives in a manner ‘that provides a wholesome example and pattern to the community’ (§36) is presented uncritically. Though the duty to order our family members’ lives is ameliorated since the phrase ‘as much as in him lies’ is interpreted to remind us of ‘the limitations of any individual to determine the behaviour of other family members in all times and places’ (§37). But it is crystal clear that “communal regulation” should be exercised in the home as well, mostly I imagine over wives and children, but over clergy husbands and extended family as well. This is not a theology of power which a responsible theologian simply states uncritically.

    There is a hint that this dangerous and toxic theology of power might be applicable in wider discipleship (“heavy discipling” is one euphemism for spiritual abuse and grooming, after all). The report notes, again uncritically, the linguistic or etymological links between spiritual discipline, church discipline and discipleship: ‘The complementary relationship between spiritual discipline and church discipline would indicate the broad range between the proactive, formative and the condemnatory, punitive ideas that inhere in the single word discipline’ (§43). Tellingly, throughout this passage, the role of the ‘authority figure’ as the exerciser of discipline in its various forms is emphasised.

    Finally, the image of a doctor prescribing medicine from Gregory Nazianzen’s second Oration is used to support this broader deployment of discipline (§46). This is particularly unfortunate and ironic. Gregory wrote his second Oration shortly after his ordination, having fled his post because he did not think he was able to bear the weight of the pastoral duty imposed upon him. He writes in a manner which emphasises the importance and weightiness of pastoral care, almost to an absurd extent. This is an apologia for his belief that he should not be entrusted with such authority to discipline. It is not a suggestion that every bishop and priest should start prescribing punitive medicine.

    This isn’t a funny theological blooper. Rather, it reveals just how far the compilers of the report were not aware of the issues of power underlying the texts with which they engage. Bishops might well read Selina Stone’s A Heavy Yoke: Theology, Power and Abuse in the Church (London: SCM Press, 2025) before they decide that this is the sort of power in relation to God’s people which they want to define themselves as having. If they do, they need to deploy it in all areas of their episcopal ministry and equally on all people in the church, not just LGBTQIA+ people. Gregory, given the choice, ran away from it.

     

    3 – Are the Clergy a Special Case?

    In order to answer this question, the report presents a bewildering array of arguments, many of which are specious or based in unreality. I shall try here to present this torrent of uncompleted ideas in a way which is moderately digestible.

    First, the report argues that ‘The broadest possible jurisdiction one can conceive for church discipline includes baptised Christians on an electoral roll in the Church of England’ (§48). You might think we were about to get a sense of how “communal regulation” applies in the community of the baptised. But this is passed over, moving on to a discussion of Lay Ministers (§49). It seems simply to be accepted that discipline is not something which touches the baptised who are not licensed. This is unsatisfactory and inconsistent with the theology of discipline presented thus far.

    This gap in the argument means that the next argument, that clergy are held to a ‘higher moral bar’ than the laity (§50), seems to arise solely by virtue of ordination. No argument is offered to justify the statement that due to the ‘exceptional nature of holy orders’ the church ‘expects a public transparency about many aspects of life, including areas in which lay Christians are afforded the ease of privacy’ (§50). This is an unreasoned distinction from the privacy afforded to the laity which is presented as self-evident. And should then the bishop, as even more exceptional than the priest, be required for example to publish their bank statements on the diocesan website? There is no theological substance here.

    A strange argument is presented about the call for clergy ‘to witness by example against the norms of the culture in which they sojourn’ (§53). It is not stated directly, but we are used to this sort of homophobic gaslighting, which argues that we are not to be in ‘normative alignment with the shifting sands of cultural values’ (§52), those shifting values being a fictional secular society which is a nirvana of inclusion for LGBTQIA+ people. That secular inclusive society against which the church is called to witness is fiction and a foil. Society is deeply homophobic, even as it is deeply misogynistic and racist still. Homophobia in the Church is in lockstep with the homophobic abuse and discrimination we experience in the secular world every day. It’s not countercultural, it isn’t cool, and it isn’t a witness.

    The distinctive witness of clergy to procure the good conduct of children and their spouses is considered again in the context of this cultural witness. This is passed off masterfully with the sentence: ‘Modern assumptions about the alignment of private, domestic space with public order differ significantly from the assumptions in [the pastoral epistles]’ (§59). It is odd that the report should accept women’s lib and contemporary appreciation of children’s dignity and autonomy so easily after all the handwringing about being counter-cultural. If applied to LGBTQIA+ people, it is simply not clear why the same counter-cultural discipline would not be applicable to women, children and those in clergy households, and no arguments are made.

    The report advances an argument that the vocation to ordained ministry is a ‘whole-life dedication’ which makes it ‘difficult, if not impossible, to separate the moral from the exemplary imperative in a life conceived as a form of witness’ (§64). This is an extraordinary argument for an Anglican to advance, especially as it is essentially the root of the argument for clerical celibacy in the Roman Catholic Church. If ordination is ‘whole-life dedication’ to God, then heterosexual marriage and dedication to another person also should be inappropriate for the clergy.

    Then the report argues that we must take particular account of the perceptions of outsiders.

    The pastoral epistles… even specify that the exemplar ‘must be well thought of by outsiders’ (1 Timothy 3:7). It behoves us to consider the same in the 21st century just as it was commended in the 1st century. In practice, it is inescapable.

    This is blunt application. And it is hard to see why this argument for not ordaining or licensing those in same-sex marriages would not also hold for women, immigrants, disabled people and people who are racialised. Their ordination, as they will tell you, also prompts push-back and elicits ableist, racist and misogynistic abuse and even scandal. And yet again there is no considered argument in the report about why this problem of perception should only apply to LGBTQIA+ people.

    There then is yet another strange argument: that allowing clergy to marry their same-sex partner would ‘alter the context in which Christian exemplary witness is offered and point to the fragmentation within wider society of a consensus on the nature of marriage and sexual intimacy.’ This is simply delusional. There is no fragmentation in secular society on the issue of sexual intimacy. Rather, there is general agreement in secular society that the place of sexual intimacy is no longer anything to do with marriage. Indeed, for even the majority of conservatives in the Church (at the level of operative theology rather than theory) the question is really about what sexual intimacies you enjoy before marriage and which ones you save for your spouse. Again, cultural witness is set up as a straw man, in which resistance to LGBTQIA+ people is supposedly the keystone holding up the Church’s moral witness.

     

    4 – Leading us to think we are talking about sex whenever marriage is mentioned

    In §68 the report acknowledges that clergy households where a couple are in a civil partnership can be exemplary, but it is not clear why those in a same-sex marriage would not be. And in §70 the report acknowledges that things are hard for Christian couples in civil partnerships, but there is no sense that the writers of the report are aware of how the Church’s approach following the 2005 pastoral statement also impacts the broader Christian family gathered around the couple.

    At the heart of the problem here is that the report refuses to say plainly that a same-sex marriage has no more presumption of sexual activity than a civil partnership. The Marriage (Same Sex Couples) Act 2013 inserts s.12(1-2) of the Matrimonial Causes Act 1973, which disapplies the requirement that same-sex couples consummate their union in order to have a valid marriage. In law, there is no expectation that a gay couple who are married will be having sex, any more than there is for a civil partnership.

    The failure to acknowledge this amidst all the handwringing is one of the largest and most uncomfortable omissions of this discussion of “clergy exemplarity”. The readers of the report are left with the false impression that marriages mean gay sex while civil partnerships mean gay celibacy. This is a false impression. If clergy can be exemplary as civil partners, living a sexually sacrificial life for the Church, there is no reason why they could not also do the same as a married couple. There is no difference in terms of sexual activity between civil partnership and same-sex marriage.

    Indeed, the report stresses that ‘none of what follows intends to draw into question the current provision’ for clergy in civil partnerships. ‘It is nonetheless notable that if a pastoral accommodation is agreed [to enable the same clergy to get married] this may mean that provision [of episcopal guidance] for same-sex civil marriages and same-sex civil partnerships are different from one another’ (§93). However, given that neither involve sex, it is not at all obvious why this should be the case. Yet again, a spectre of something completely new and different is created without specifying any real difference, theological or otherwise.

     

    5 – Despite divorce, we really do still hold to the traditional doctrine of marriage

    The report twists logic to the point of breaking in order to advance two arguments: (i) that the bending of the doctrine of marriage which took place in order to enable the marriage of divorcees with a spouse still living is not analogous to any bending of doctrine required to enable same-sex couples in a civil marriage to be licensed; and (ii) that in any case, despite permitting the marriage of divorcees, we do actually still hold to the traditional doctrine of marriage, that it is between a man and a woman for life. Fair warning: your head will hurt trying to follow this meandering thread.

    We are told that same-sex marriage is in no way the same kind of thing as the marriage of divorcees. ‘While there are clearly similarities between the two, an argument that they are identical does not seem sustainable. Therefore, the logic used to support adding Canon C 4.5 [enabling the licensing of clergy in a second marriage] cannot be a precedent’ (§96). But no reason is given for this judgment that the two are not identical. Indeed, both marriages are a statement of the traditional doctrine, except for one thing: either the gender of the parties, or the “one man and one woman for life” bit.

    Perhaps an analogy could be constructed instead. We are told that ‘Theological reflection should always begin with scripture’ (§99), a statement which will come as a surprise to anyone versed in theological reflection as practiced in Church of England theological colleges. After this we are told that:

    It is true that Holy Scripture does not include explicit precedent for a faithful, stable, permanent same-sex relationship. Similarly, one might observe that ‘Scripture’s teaching on homosexuality is sparse and ambiguous and it is highly questionable to what extent we can derive from it any application to the ethical issue of gay relationships as it faces us today. (§99)

    This is not an argument routinely advanced by LGBTQIA+ people today, who find precedent for our relationships and identities throughout scripture. But the report entirely ignores our love for and valuing of scripture, referencing a group of mostly American straight Evangelicals talking about LGBTQIA+ people (and also referencing Jeffrey John). Unlike divorce, which does exist in scripture, LGBTQIA+ people’s lives and relationships are portrayed in the report as absent from scripture, so without precedent, so without theological existence.

    The report then charts the progress, from the Lichfield Report (1978) to the early 2000s, of the idea that a marriage can end such that a person can marry someone else. This includes: (i) the rejection of sacramental understandings of marriage and (ii) doctrinal clarifications (or developments) that marriage’s being for life was not an essential part of a marriage’s nature, only an ideal (§§111-118).

    We supposedly have arrived at a relatively straightforward conclusion: there cannot be ‘a complete analogy’ (§118) with the marriage of divorcees. However, the argument continues, now in the context of divorce and in what sense clerics’ lives are meant to be exemplary.

    The report notes (referring to St Paul and St Augustine) that marriage was itself a pastoral accommodation in the first place to the ideal of celibacy. It suggests that, when considering making pastoral provision for same-sex couples in marriages, ‘one might contend that such an approach has parallels – though inexact ones’ (§120) with the Pauline and Augustinian accommodation of marriage. However, again, it is not clear why these parallels would not be exact. A thing is not the ideal for sexual ethics, but we make accommodation for it. Why the distinction?

    The section §§122-128 duplicates the arguments of §§52-60, sometimes verbatim, about culture and exemplarity. Again, this feels like an attempt to create an illusion of a coherent argument by repeating material rather than referencing it. On the other hand, it could simply be a drafting oversight.

    The argument seems to be that the pastoral epistles are contextual and culturally referential. They represent an attempt to work out what conduct should be required of the clergy in their own day, in order to be an example of godly life (§124). And so, scripture requires us to consider what holy life looks like today.

    Insofar as the Church of England aims to support and assist those who enter holy orders with the long work of forming and fashion their lives for a visible, grounded holiness, it can only deal in the on-the-ground realities of living as an ordained person in the contemporary culture in which they sojourn. This approach follows the scriptural lead: Paul’s example in the Holy Scriptures indicates it is impossible to think about the exemplary call without considering the context in which Christian witness occurs. (§126)

    A rare, positive conclusion is reached: that it might be possible to think about exemplarity in a way which refers to shifts in understandings of what being exemplary might mean, and in a way which is also biblical.

    Therefore, the argument that clergy in a same-sex marriage may be exemplary invokes cultural context – not in any way omitting theological rigour in preference for an appeal to contemporary culture, but as a move necessitated by Holy Scripture. (§127)

    However, the argument quickly moves off again in another direction, this time truly mind-boggling. The authors of the report wish to underline that the ‘call to celibacy’ may lead ‘same-sex attracted persons’ to opt for a ‘covenanted friendship[] or celibate civil partnership’. By analogy, we are reminded that ‘similar options have always been available to anyone who is divorced with a living spouse’ (§133).  Some choose to remain celibate after a divorce ‘since their remarriage would be a stumbling block to those holding to indissolubility for marriage’ (§133). An argument is being made that because some divorced people decide to remain celibate, that is an option open to LGBTQIA+ people too.

    The report then asks why many opt instead for further marriage. ‘There are surely a number of reasons – but it is hard to escape the conclusion that one reason will be because the church teaches sexual intimacy belongs within marriage and they wish to respect that’ (§134). This is frankly bizarre. On one level it is hard to believe that anyone has ever seriously made this argument. People who are divorced remarry because they want to remarry. The serial monogamist is not making a prophetic declaration that the place for sexual intimacy (with each of their sexual partners) is within marriage. This is utterly bizarre. However, this is advanced as an example of an argument in which an analogy might be possible for extending marriage to same-sex couples who are having sex, in order to affirm the church’s teaching that the place for sex is within marriage.

    However, this argument is so preposterous that it is hard to believe that it would ever be made by anyone who actually wanted to convince the reader that same sex marriage might be a good thing. The analogy with divorce makes it absurd. If the report was seriously offering a positive argument for marriage equality, it would simply argue that the place for sex should be within lifelong marriage. And that would be an argument that many LGBTQIA+ people do actually make.

    That positive argument is finally made, almost in passing, along with an equally easily missed reference to the possibility that same-sex couples who are married might not necessarily actually be having sex:

    While it is true that a same-sex marriage – which one cannot be certain is sexually active, but for those who want to affirm same-sex relationships offers a faithful, stable, and permanent context for sexual intimacy – does present challenges to the church’s teaching on sexual intimacy, which restricts it to heterosexual marriage, there is a case that a same-sex marriage offers a model that is exemplary in our society. (§138)

    But you could have been forgiven for missing those significant points as they flew past.

     

    6 – Disempower the Bishops

    In my response to GS Misc 1430 on marriage, I noted the high emotional tone of some of the language, which seemed aimed at making the episcopal readers less inclined to exercise their episcopal prerogative. We have seen how this report might well have the same effect, but by mystifying the reader in a barrage of confusingly arrayed arguments.

    However, the sections considering the possibility that the bishops might permit clergy, who currently need to be in civil partnerships in order to receive a license, to simply get married, and that they might just decide not discipline them, do sow fear. They do this by foretelling legal uncertainty and legal challenge in a manner that suggests the bishops would be taking a course of action which could be described as courageous.

    The ideal, surely, for all of us, is that we might come to one mind, with sufficient majorities to pass legislation which pleases everyone. However, if this is not possible, the report acknowledges that it is possible ‘for the diocesan bishops to exercise their discretion in responding to a situation that raises such questions about doctrine and practice being in tension’ (§82). This is a very odd way to frame episcopal discretion which arises from the tortured logic of ‘communally regulative understanding of doctrine’ (§84) which is rehearsed again. Far more sensible would have been a simple statement of the long-established episcopal discretion which exists for a bishop to administer their diocese as they see fit. A survey of the legal and historical as well as ecclesiological grounding for this would have been particularly interesting. But I suspect it would have shattered the illusion of a church held together by its ‘communally regulative understanding of doctrine’.

    The report notes that the House of Bishops could decide to relax discipline across the Church of England. ‘This would constitute a form of communal regulation – but only of one constituent house of the General Synod’ (§190). The argument is framed to evaluate every option for episcopal action through the lens of the ‘communally regulative understanding of doctrine’. Since that concept presumes that only maximum agreement can be acceptably communally regulative, this essentially paralyses the bishop from acting in their diocese.

    It is a masterful, if strangled, conceptual power grab. So the House of Bishops as a whole cannot act because they are only one house of Synod (§190). The bishop in their diocese cannot act because this ‘would also put the approach in tension with the idea that discipline operates on a communally [sic] regulative manner’ (§192).

    Indeed, with the concept of ‘communally regulative understanding of doctrine’, the bishop is rendered powerless, and the bishops as a House are disempowered utterly. They are responsible for discipline. But they cannot exercise their prerogative when it comes to discipline. Which begs the question, what is the point of a bishop? It is a line of reasoning which only works if you remain committed to the ‘communally regulative understanding of doctrine’ and wilfully ignore 2000 years of ecclesiological theology on the role of the bishop in their diocese.

    But, lest the bishops assert their prerogative, we are told that individual bishops inhabiting their role ‘carries the greatest risk for discipline to depart from doctrine, potentially resulting in legal challenges and increased confusion over such matters’ (§197). This argument is repeated in §213 as the last paragraph of the report, just to make sure the bishops were left with a dose of panic. Peter Collier KC has taken the teeth out of this legal threat pretty convincingly. Like many of the arguments advanced in this report, it is not real.

    The bishops should not be afraid to lead, to minister and to administer. Conservative bishops have done so, interpreting doctrine more tightly in some areas and more loosely in others as fits their own beliefs about what it means to be a shepherd of Christ’s flock in their diocese. Inclusive bishops should be similarly empowered. And the House of Bishops as a whole should not let its freedom to act be utterly dissolved into communal regulation. The bishops are not merely an upper rubber-stamping chamber for the secretariat and the Synod as a whole. For this reason, above all the others, this report must not become enshrined in Church of England thinking. What it risks is a functional Presbyterianism, a synodality which is not Anglican, and a House of Bishops who are ordained and consecrated to be shepherds of Christ’s flock, but who find themselves powerless to do anything meaningful in fulfilment of that calling.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • Beyond Threats: Changing the Narrative after Living in Love and Faith

    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 LLF Vocations and Ministry Working Group

    When I was at my first Diocesan Synod, many years ago, just after the House of Bishops had issued their Valentine’s Day message that set in stone the current mess in relation to clergy being forbidden to marry their same-sex or gender partners, a cleric turned to me and said words that have stuck with me ever since: ‘you need to have a cooler head and a warmer heart’. These words have returned to me on a number of occasions during the Living in Love and Faith (LLF) fiasco, echoed by various ‘supportive’ or less supportive bishops or others involved in the process – often people who could return to their own husbands or wives at the end of the day, whilst asking people like me to ‘be patient’.

    They appeared in the back of my mind again last week when witnessing the total corporate failure of the House of Bishops to even pay lip service to their promise to ‘lament and repent of the failure of the Church to be welcoming to LGBTQI+ people and the harm that LGBTQI+ people have experienced and continue to experience in the life of the Church’. It was hard – it is hard – to see this as anything other than a total betrayal. Like many others, I felt disappointment, I felt grief. I also felt anger, frustration and the deep impotence of watching my life being decided upon by others. I felt fury at the bully-boy tactics of the Alliance. I felt – frankly – disgusted with the apparent refusal to take all of this on, by those who have claimed to support us throughout. And I was tempted to despair.

    It is hard to know where to start with the inadequacy of what happened, and I’ve taken a bit of time before penning this article to hear a few different perspectives. A statement was put out in the name of the House of Bishops – rushed, presumably, in light of yet another anticipated leak in this depressing process – which failed even to mention LGBTQIA people (I wonder whether this was even seen, let alone signed off, by the House?). In this statement, there was a clear narrative – that LGBTQIA people were, once again, to be the acceptable sacrifice in the name of some vague notion of church ‘unity-through-silence-and-stasis’ (a ‘unity’ which was shown to be a mirage just a few hours later, as GAFCON launched their most recent preposterous salvo). Here was the triumph of pragmatism and politics over people – process over progress – and all in the face of clear decisions of the General Synod (decisions which have been totally ignored throughout the process).

    The bishops didn’t help themselves in the ensuing days, not least through the double-speak we have sadly become so used to hearing. We have seen this endlessly in Synod motions – where ‘consider’ or ‘potential’ have become weasel words to allow something to be passed and then thrown on to the ‘too difficult’ pile at will. In radio performances, the bishops provided disingenuous accounts, full of handwringing and ‘well actually’ commentary which once again failed to take the seriousness of the failure into account, and which might make LGBTQIA people feel just a little gaslighted. The reality of putting something through a two-thirds majority process – that it will fail, given the unrepresentative nature of the General Synod – has never quite been named, and similarly, there is no commitment to actually beginning Synodal processes on clergy marriage.

    Abysmal ‘pastoral letters’ were penned, including one surprisingly weak example which would fail the ‘pastoral exercise’ at any Bishop’s Advisory Panel for potential ordinands. And to date, there has been – once again – a general recourse to silence amongst the House, including amongst the ‘inclusive’ bishops. Silence – just like inaction – is not value-neutral. For our chief pastors, it appears the pastoral urge is worryingly absent. Or, perhaps, fear really has taken over the institution.

    What has become clear from several conversations that I have had – and sight of the legal advice and theological advice – is that the narrative that the legal advice changed is absolute nonsense. It is certainly true that the legal advice suggested that the bishops might be at risk of legal challenge, but we’ve known this all along, not least from February 2024’s GS 2346 (the optimistically-named Living in Love, Faith, and Reconciliation). Part of the role of being a leader is to shoulder that kind of risk. The theological advice on the PLF also made clear that there remain contested areas here, much as there are over clergy entering marriages to people of the same sex or gender. But nothing has substantively changed. ‘We need more theology’ was not, in the end, the deciding factor, and nor was the fabled ‘legal advice’.

    Whilst we’re on that point, might we be a little clearer with language? We have heard time after time that one of the questions to be addressed is whether clergy can enter such marriages, and the need for separate structures if that is to be allowed, but that is not the actual question here. There are already clergy in such marriages – I’m one of them. We walk amongst you. We celebrate the sacraments and preach the word of God freely. I can – and often do – cover parishes all over the diocese, and more widely. But what I can’t do is be appointed to a new post – and those waiting for ordination cannot be ordained. The whole situation is ridiculous – it’s OK for me to share cure of souls in my parish and preside in another but not share cure of souls there and preside in mine. It is hard to follow an argument that suggests that I can continue to be made use of, whilst to permit others would be to break canon law and would require some grand structural change.

    The demands for structural change, of course, have been one of the key issues underlying this whole LLF process – in fact, LLF has become less about LGTBQIA people and more about keeping the purveyors of threats within the Church of England. A narrative has developed, bought – it appears – hook, line, and sinker by far too many within the House of Bishops, that ‘if you do X, we need Y’. If you have standalone services (whatever that means), we need special bishops. If you have clergy marriage, we need our own province. And so on. Few have been willing to stand up to this and say, ‘no, you don’t’ – instead, the game has been played according to those rules, and so here we are. The bishops were unwilling to ‘do violence to the ecclesiology’ of the Church of England, so LGBTQIA people can, essentially, get stuffed. It’s understandable from a purely pragmatic point of view, but it is utterly theologically bankrupt.

    I have some sympathy for the refusal to give into this kind of bullying, and it has been fascinating to see the rather muted response of the small but synodically overrepresented and extremely wealthy threat-makers and money-withdrawers when they realised their grand plan to create a purity cult, a church-within-a-church, has failed. Yet beyond the apparent unwillingness to challenge the Alliance narrative, bishops have also spoken about feeling cornered – managed to within an inch of their lives – by being presented with faits accomplis at recent meetings, with no room left for manoeuvre. It’s this, or it’s that, they were told. So, whether or not it was their intention, looking in from the outside, it certainly looks like they have run scared of the Alliance, given into threats, and left us out in the cold. In doing so, all the hope of February 2023 has fallen away, motions and the associated clear will of General Synod have been discarded, and we have a few measly prayers which many of us were doing already. No bespoke services. No change to the absurd rules on clergy marriage. Nothing. Nada. Nil.

    As I said at the start, I am as angry and as dejected as the next person. But I am also not willing to accept defeat here. So, whilst it is easy to get caught up in the frustration and the fury, I want to think instead of where we go from here.

    It is clearly the case that the bishops decided it was not worth pressing ahead with standalone services, but why? Is this the result of threats of legal action? Bishops need to be clear in their own minds why they voted the way they did, and just as clear as to how they will stop this mess happening again. How are they going to enable all the things that they have promised through Synod motions – some little more than crumbs under the table? How are they going to focus once again on radical inclusion and not on threat management?

    One of the key things to which the House of Bishops – and particularly those bishops supportive of LGBTQIA inclusion – need to commit is doing this better and growing some courage. It is time for them to take back a level of agency and own the decisions and the decision-making processes they are engaging in. This means, too, refusing to accept narratives peddled on the back of threats. There is no inevitability to the Alliance’s wish-list, and this needs to be clearly and unmistakably stated by our bishops. The alternative – that the House accepts that no change will happen unless structural provision is made, and that the House will not provide this – is that LGBTQIA people are the acceptable sacrifice. We – LGBTQIA people – are asking you: which is it?

    Indeed, in a letter to supporters this week, the CEEC has made clear that they want to see even the current commended prayers removed from use, and ‘if that is not possible’ to ‘advocate for a structural rearrangement which secures orthodoxy [sic’] going forward’. Threats will continue until they are taken on.

    Secondly, there needs to be a sense of urgency in the work and witness of the House of Bishops. LGBTQIA people are sick and tired of being trampled over or told to wait. David Monteith expressed this very powerfully last week, and his experience chimes with many of us. A failure to see why this is not only important but urgent is hurting the witness of the episcopal leadership of the Church of England – indeed, a failure to hear even a public word from inclusive bishops in the aftermath of this week’s car crash is fairly damning in and of itself. Of course, it is likely that the 44 bishops who spoke out a while back are now on a ‘do not appoint’ list provided by the Alliance to anti-LGBTQIA Crown Nominations Commission members considering diocesan appointments, but since when have threats been the way we go about our business? How about naming them instead, and calling the bluff of those who make them?

    Thirdly, they – and we – need to commit to what can be done right now, and get on with doing it. The arguments over what does and doesn’t require B2 are somewhat complicated (and I will engage with them in a later post), but it is quite obviously the case that something can be offered now (of which the PLF are a mere part and not the whole), and we ought to be getting on with it – and our bishops ought not only to be giving us quiet, covert cover, but to be public in their support. Similarly, now we have a route to dealing with the nonsense over clergy marriage, let’s do it – rather than kick the can down the road further.

    Some people have expressed dissatisfaction that parishes are not being encouraged to withhold parish share. Nobody is stopping you: if you are an incumbent with the support of your PCC and you wish to do so, then maybe now is indeed the time to do so – and to say so. Make it clear to your bishops that the threats of the Alliance are not the only show in town. Challenge decision making that prioritises those who threaten over those who are LGBTQIA. Support your bishops when they need it, and oppose them when they sell us down the river. Get involved in the campaigns that are out there, and if you feel they don’t go far enough, go further.

    And, of course, we are moving into an important year, where General Synod will once again be elected. The reality is that we need money for this campaign, because the purveyors of threats have loads of it. But we also need people. We need deanery synods that truly represent the people of the Church of England. Deanery synods elect General Synod. I will admit that I really hate General Synod and the way that Synod’s clear will has been ignored. But if we are to make change, we have to win – and win big – in these next elections. It matters for every part of our corporate life, like it or hate it – the election of bishops, the possibility of bringing in Equal Marriage, the way our money is spent, you name it.

    The past two and a half years, since the first LLF motion was passed, have been characterised by a failure of courage, imagination, integrity, theology: and of leadership. We have retreated into being a church of anxiety and fear, shaped by threats and bullying tactics. We have become risk-averse, frustrated, and angry. There has been an immeasurable damage to trust in the institution and in the leadership. We have lost our way.

    But it does not need to be like this, and with God’s grace it won’t be. We – all of us – need to change the narrative, reorient the church’s perspective, and get back to the business of living in love, faith, and hope. We can turn this around. And there is no time like the present to let the Holy Spirit blow afresh, and to turn again to the Lord, and live.

    Weeping may endure for a night: but joy cometh in the morning.