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Category: Politics

  • Far-right Threat: Why the Bishops’ Take on “National Unity” is not enough – Part 2

    by Savitri (Savi) Hensman. A British Sri Lankan lesbian and Church of England member, she has been a writer and activist for justice and inclusion in churches and society, at times holding leadership roles in key organisations. She has also worked in community development and involvement in research, public policy and services. These two pieces will occasionally touch on some of the grim realities of inequity and violence.

    A disunited nation?

    In the second part of this reflection on the Church and the nation, I will share some ideas on how the Church of England, locally and nationally, might respond to the far-right surge. I will suggest a few principles to guide this response, then practical actions, but start with what I mean by the term ‘far right’.

    While this has been defined in various ways, I use it in a way broadly similar to that outlined by Hope Not Hate, to cover a spectrum, from those who are essentially pro-democracy to those on the extreme right who reject this and may embrace non-state violence. Far-right beliefs tend to include the notion that the nation (either geographic or racial, and sometimes viewed as superior to others) is in decay or crisis and needs radical action to halt or reverse this; and that the ‘nation’, however defined, includes an in-group, under threat, and an outgroup/enemy.  Societies can shift so that far-right views and policies are increasingly seen as ‘mainstream’.

    Suggested principles

    Firstly, the biblical understanding of what it means to love everyone, ‘unity’ and ‘reconciliation’ in Christ is not about papering over cracks. It can include challenging injustice and harm in institutions and systems, as well as at personal level, and asking awkward questions about differences in status, wealth and power. This can be tricky for churches, especially if they are as closely tied to the state as the CofE, yet is important in times like the present.

    The Bishops’ Working Group paper presented to Synod last month makes the important point that it is dangerous to conflate “our understandings of nation, church and kingdom. The kingdom of God is our ultimate horizon, and both the church and the nation stand under its judgement and promise.”

    Yet too often CofE culture and structures, encourage church members to accept inequality and defer to those in authority, without always counting the human cost.   

    But Christ still invites followers to embrace the promises in the Magnificat and the sermon on the plain; to join in bringing good news to the poor and freedom to the oppressed; reject false unity; and take up the cross, ready to pay the price of love which may involve painful change, and facing the wrath of the powerful, in the hope of resurrection (Luke 1.50-53, 6.20-26, 4.16-19, 12.49-53, 14.25-27).

    Secondly, I agree with the Working Group in its call for a healthy form of patriotism, based on an honest reckoning of what is good and evil in national history, without drawing hard lines around who belongs. Such a form of patriotism “would ask not only what the nation can achieve for those within its borders, but what responsibilities it bears toward the wider world”. This matters, especially since the absence of this among people whose self-esteem is often ground down in everyday life is all too easy for the far right to manipulate. And struggles for freedom, equality and democracy, past and present, can strengthen bonds among people from diverse backgrounds.

    Thirdly, the Church should avoid lending credibility to the notion that tension is almost inevitable between two distinct groups of people: on the one hand those who suffer stark socioeconomic disadvantage, and so are drawn towards trying to ‘defend’ England against ‘outsiders’, and on the other hand people they see as ‘foreign’.  

    There are multiple flaws in the paper’s claim that “A church that is genuinely promoting unity will be equally committed to racial justice work as well as ministry with people of working-class backgrounds. This means equally including those from Global Majority Heritage backgrounds and recent migrants, and those who would be drawn towards exclusionary politics – not in a way that endorses those politics, but by creating the relationships which allow for those attitudes to be open to examination and theological formation.” There were echoes of this in what was said at Synod too.

    Sensitive listening in safe spaces to white people drawn to the far right, yet who may feel awkward about this, is indeed valuable. But urging churches to be equally inclusive of both those who facing racial injustice and those drawn to exclusionary politics fails to recognise the following points:

    1. Many working-class people and others on low incomes are not white. Members of some minority ethnic communities are about one-and-a half to four times as likely as white British people to be working-class and/or on a very low income. So especially in ethnically diverse areas, numerous people face socioeconomic disadvantage intertwined with, rather than simply instead of, racism [1].
    2. Many white working-class people support politicians seen as opposing inequality of all kinds, including racism. This is particularly marked in younger generations and women [2]. Disadvantaged white people have often grown up amidst, or organised alongside, diverse friends, relatives or role models.
    3. Many people drawn to the far right are not working-class or economically deprived: sometimes, the opposite. This is particularly marked at leadership level. The English Defence League, though led by someone who did have a deprived childhood (Stephen Yaxley-Lennon, known as Tommy Robinson), was bankrolled by a “property tycoon and a City-based financier.” He is now backed by some of the world’s richest and most powerful men: Elon Musk, Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin. Reform UK and Restore Britain are headed by rich privately-educated former commodities traders, and funded by wealthy business people. Both favour slashing social security payments to many disabled people and funding tax cuts for the rich. For some in the middle, resentment of their neighbours on the margins masks their fear of ending up there too.
    4. Some of the institutions and systemic issues driving harsh deprivation and racist extremism overlap. The key role of powerful decision-makers, their media or business backers and unjust systems in inflicting harm directly (and legitimising everyday contempt or hatred) should be recognised. For example, in a decade-and-a-half, austerity has killed hundreds of thousands of people in Britain [3], in what has been described as “social murder,” while many others on low incomes have had their health wrecked. Public policy shifts have created an increasingly hostile environment for people of colour, as politicians target not only refugees and recent migrants but also those of us long settled or born here, even if British citizens [4]. Meanwhile attention is diverted from finding ways forward which would benefit the many, not just the few.

    Ideas for action

    I believe the types of action encouraged in the paper, and at Synod, have their place. But what is effective, and advisable, for ministers and church volunteers practising inclusivity will vary, depending on identity and situation. And friendliness and one-to-one dialogue, and/or encouraging involvement in Citizens UK or other local initiatives, while valuable are not enough on their own to turn back the far-right tide.

    While everyone in a congregation can be encouraged to be welcoming, outreach and in-depth pastoral care may need particular skills. Some church members may receive a less positive response than others from far-right sympathisers and activists. If church members provide informal chaplaincy at rallies, some may be targets of verbal abuse or physical assault, including on the way home. People can change, including violent extreme-right activists [5], but many have complex problems and require appropriate support [6].

    I am not suggesting here that people of global majority heritage, or any other group facing disadvantage or discrimination, should react strongly to each minor slight or insensitive act: practically everyone gets things wrong sometimes. Nor do I claim that a single viewpoint might represent the whole truth or even the opinion of a whole community on any topic. Nor should we reject what is freely given as gift by those able and willing to listen attentively to, and care for, people who treat them as unequal and in some cases harm their loved ones. But it is important for this not to be turned into a kind of informal tax on all, or an expectation that this is the only proper form of ‘Christian’ living. There are other ways of engaging directly with far-right views and actions, as well as offering people who might find these tempting better channels for their frustration and loss, including nationally-coordinated activities.

    There is much to learn from Anglicans elsewhere, ecumenical partners – and by reflecting on what CofE laypersons and frontline clergy active in seeking greater inclusion and equity in society (especially from marginalised groups) think that they have learned by this work. This includes activities at least partly motivated by faith but not directed by churches and of which church leaders may sometimes be unaware. Can Christians who, despite disagreement on certain matters, are committed to a more just and compassionate society get better at sharing experiences, information and views? And can CofE members talk more about the tricky issue of what might happen if the gap widens between what the UK authorities ask of citizens and what some of us might regard as our duty as followers of Christ?

    Many of us will remember times when people of global majority heritage across the world, and/or who are LGBTQIA+, have paid a high price when UK and other state power was used in destructive ways. This is a live issue today, as state measures can clash with other UK laws, and contravene wider human rights and international humanitarian law. Christians, alongside other people of goodwill, are making varied choices.

    Maybe there are some situations in which unity can only be achieved through challenge and conflict. Whether through formal church channels or Christians coming together in other ways, resources on theology and practical issues can perhaps be circulated more widely, spaces and networks for mutual support and shared learning developed, in response to the rise of the far right.

    The CofE’s tendency to create a false idol of ‘unity’ may end up not only jeopardising the wellbeing of those worst hit by injustice but also causing deadly division. But there are genuine seeds of hope, and love across difference, which deserve to be watered and nurtured through the storms to come. Beyond the Cross is the Resurrection.

    References

    1 Class categories in official statistics continue to evolve and probably still do not adequately reflect changes in technology and organisation of work, especially affecting those in non-manual jobs which are tightly employer-controlled, profit-creating and not well-paid, sometimes regarded as “white-collar working class.” In 2021 Census figures for England and Wales, white British people were only about half as likely as those with Bangladeshi or Pakistani ethnicity to be in the lowest social grades (DE), and twice as likely to be in the top (AB). People of African and Caribbean descent were about one- and-a-half times as likely to be in DE. (I have assumed that numbers of white people of Northern Irish descent, even if patterns differ slightly, would be comparatively low so make little difference to the average.) Differences are even more stark in terms of income. Later figures for income after housing costs indicated that people of Bangladeshi ethnicity were about three times as likely as white British people to live in the bottom 20% of households, those of Pakistani or Black ethnicity twice as likely. In terms of deep material poverty among children, rates were about four times as high for those of Bangladeshi as of White ethnicity, about twice as high for those of Black or Pakistani ethnicity.

    2 Both Reform UK and the Green Party perform better among people who are financially insecure. British people who own their homes outright are four times more likely to vote Reform than Green; but tenants of private landlords and people living with family and friends (including hidden homeless “sofa-surfers”) are considerably more likely to vote Green than Reform. More in Common and YouGov, from which these figures are drawn, explore the divisions further, as does the National Centre for Social Research, e.g. when examining who supports Reform and attitudes in Scotland to discrimination, which almost certainly overlap with those in England. Interpreting statistics is more complicated because older home-owners may have bought property when far cheaper and the likelihood of young people from disadvantaged backgrounds going to university has risen steeply since the 1960s; and the percentage of people born in Britain who are minority ethnic has also risen.

    3 Public health specialists have various estimates, depending in part on the years and geographical area covered, e.g. 230,000 or so in England from 2010-18. Some researchers have examined the mechanisms in different age groups etc.

    4 E.g. new rules leave even asylum-seekers who have reached England and been recognised as having fled danger, including traumatised survivors of anti-Christian or anti-LGBTQIA+ persecution, permanently at risk of being sent back and hence unable to live freely. And up to 9 million people are vulnerable to being stripped of British citizenship, hence losing vital rights and maybe facing forcible deportation, with people of colour at high risk. In effect this takes the Windrush scandal, in which hundreds of people were wrongly deported, despite contributing to UK society for decades after arriving from the Caribbean and elsewhere long ago, not as a cautionary tale but a blueprint. This concerns me far more than street-level racist violence, which is less systematic and with greater chance of rescue. Such policies in turn affect numerous white British people, including those needing NHS or social care but without staff to provide this, or who lose jobs or opportunities to study as university departments reliant on overseas students shrink or close.

    5 E.g. Matthew Collins and the late Ray Hill, both of whom became outstanding anti-fascists.

    6 For instance most people arrested in the Southampton race riots this summer had also been reported to the police for domestic abuse.

  • Far-right Threat: Why the Bishops’ Take on “National Unity” is not enough – Part 1

    by Savitri (Savi) Hensman. A British Sri Lankan lesbian and Church of England member, she has been a writer and activist for justice and inclusion in churches and society, at times holding leadership roles in key organisations. She has also worked in community development and involvement in research, public policy and services. These two pieces will occasionally touch on some of the grim realities of inequity and violence.

    Far right influence in England has grown sharply over the past dozen years. While minorities are most obviously affected, it is also harmful to the majority – and could have devastating effects in the not-too-distant future. A presentation and discussion on ‘Promoting Unity in our Nation’ at the July 2026 meeting of the Church of England’s General Synod raised important issues and offered some valuable insights, yet fell short in other ways. Building on what is positive, while improving on what is not, would help in tackling a serious threat to wellbeing across the UK – and strengthen the church’s ability to further inclusion in general.

    General Synod met against a backdrop of a worsening situation across the UK for people of colour (or global majority heritage: people may describe themselves in different ways) and others facing discrimination, not only on the streets but also in the corridors of power. Many feel unjustly targeted for wider social problems, in ways that may actually make these worse.

    “Friends, I don’t think we should be in any doubt – our democracy is under threat today,” Bishop of Leicester, Martyn Snow, warned when opening the agenda item. He chairs a Church of England Bishops’ Working Group on this issue, which had earlier circulated a paper.

    This paper presented its view of what was happening and why, the theological framework and what contribution the CofE could make. It ended with the text of a 2025 talk to the College of Bishops by Luke Bretherton, Regius Professor of Moral & Pastoral Theology at the University of Oxford, who is part of an Academic Reference Group. Interestingly, none of the other members of the Group were quoted.

    The paper describes high levels of distrust in institutions, scapegoating of certain minorities and a rising wealth gap; those feeling financially insecure and disconnected from society often also feel like “a stranger in my own country” and have little trust in neighbours. More positively, there is evidence of a “substantial and largely silent majority who are eager for institutions and leaders willing to speak for an inclusive English identity that rejects prejudice. The Church of England, present in every community, is uniquely placed to help that majority find its voice.”

    Previous unifying forces in Britain, the paper explains, have largely weakened or disappeared. Historian Linda Colley is quoted as identifying these as “Protestant Christianity (particularly framed in opposition to Catholicism), external military threat and imperial enterprise;” which, though their loss is welcome in many ways, has supposedly left a gap in “people’s sense of national identity and England’s place in the world.” The sense of common purpose arising from two world wars and National Service has likewise gone.

    I do wonder whether this sense of unity across classes and regions at Britain-wide level, or even in England, was ever really so strong and constant; think of tensions and sometimes strikes, even riots, over land clearances, food affordability, toll gates, rural and urban working conditions, lack of democracy and so forth. I think it interesting that for instance, in the nineteenth century, a Chartist movement attracting huge support, as well as powerful opposition, would choose as one of its top leaders William Cuffay, who was African-Caribbean, the son of a former slave from St Kitts and disabled. And perhaps the impact of wars on social relationships and belief in institutions and values was more complex. Maybe a look at historical strands which brought some (rather than all) sets of people together across diverse backgrounds, including empathy and solidarity in the quest for greater freedom, equity and democracy, might have been fruitful too?

    But I would not contest the finding that industrial decline, the drop in organisations bringing people together locally and media fragmentation have reduced the sense of connectedness. This has left “fewer shared spaces in which difference can be encountered and understood; and fewer common reference points which can cut across other identities” so that divisions can feel more acute.

    Another shift in the UK and elsewhere, in this instance overlooked by the bishops, was a gradual loss of awareness of the value of frameworks of human rights and international humanitarian law, even as these continued to develop. Though imperfect, these offered some protection from stark economic as well as social, political and cultural inequity and violence; and were about obligations to defend one’s neighbour from cruelty and injustice as much as about rights for oneself. As memories faded of the horrors of Nazism and colonialism, including slavery, these were largely overlooked or came under attack in various quarters.[1]

    In his speech, Bishop Martyn described the need to bring communities and the nation together as an urgent challenge. “If a very large number of people think our country is ‘broken’ and ‘divided’, it doesn’t matter whether we agree with them or not – the very fact that so many people think it, means that we should not be surprised if many start looking for increasingly radical solutions to ‘fix’ our nation,” he said. “And if those solutions don’t immediately work, the temptation will be to look for even more radical solutions – and history gives us plenty of examples of where that can lead.” Talks and small-group discussions followed this speech.

    I am grateful for church leaders’ genuine commitment to countering extreme racism and have much respect for the lead bishops on racial justice, Arun Arora of Kirkstall and Rosemarie Mallett of Croydon. In my view they combine willingness to speak out on uncomfortable issues with generosity of spirit. I believe in the importance of loving everyone, whatever their words and deeds; that listening and conversation can be effective in changing hearts and minds to counter injustice; and pain on all sides must be recognised; and that we need to acknowledge what is positive as well as negative in England’s present and past. Local Christian communities’ contribution to offering diverse people a chance to mix and share is indeed vital. Al Barrett, a theologian and vicar in a deprived Birmingham neighbourhood, has published his thought-provoking reflections on this, describing local attempts to embody love of neighbour during an anti-immigrant “protest” and UKIP march. In my own research and lived experience, I too have become vividly aware of the potential consequences when specific groups are targeted and how this can escalate into society-wide catastrophe if not effectively countered.

    But there is a tendency in the CofE – despite sincerely professing that all humans are made in God’s image – to take inequity for granted. And superficial “unity,” or protecting institutional reputations and resources, should not be confused with reconciliation through, and unity in, Christ.

    Each issue is unique. Yet there are certain areas of shared concern with what went so wrong at a later Synod debate on the lives and ministries of LGBTQIA+ people in the Church of England, reflected on afterwards by Charlie Baczyk-Bell and Robert Thompson, and indeed a badly mishandled safeguarding case of which an independent review was published days after Synod ended. I know that keeping organisations running can be tricky and life in community may require concessions, yet too often the cost is shunted on to those already marginalised or exploited, while possible areas of common ground are downplayed if this might offend the rich and powerful. Ultimately this does not even benefit those who oppress others or enable such oppression to happen. Shifts towards greater equity and inclusion can indeed be unsettling to people who have grown used to imbalances in wealth or status, or who believe that unequal treatment based on difference may be justified in certain instances (e.g. supposedly based on objective factors or God’s will). Sensitivity is important, along with recognition that sometimes attempts to rectify past wrongs may be clumsy or overlook complexity. But treating those upset by a measure aimed at greater inclusion as particularly vulnerable can increase their sense of vulnerability and encourage them to make further demands, while also fending off their awareness of the harm which exclusion can cause. I believe that we all, at some point in this world or the next, to be saved, must come to terms with the humanity of those whose worth we failed to respect.

    More immediately, the far-right misuse of Christianity to cover prejudice and injustice with a veneer of sanctity, though not new, has been taking highly sophisticated forms in the UK and internationally. Some mainstream churches’ focus on increasing the number of worshippers or people identifying as Christian, as well as small-scale initiatives bringing people together locally which are valuable but are not nearly enough, have left the door open. My family and I have witnessed, and experienced, grave consequences when various religions have been twisted in such ways, and how this has ended up harming even majority groups who were meant to benefit. Taking action now may make a major difference in the near future.

    In the second part of my reflections, I will offer suggestions on what might assist the Church of England, locally and nationally, to resist the far-right surge and perhaps hold on to its integrity, if things go downhill.

    [1] Some of the effects of the erosion of human rights in the UK, which left some people at extra risk when the pandemic hit, are outlined in a chapter I contributed to a book published in 2021 on COVID and co-production, free online. Since then, the situation has got worse.

  • The Cost of Political Violence: After Charlie Kirk

    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

    The truly horrible killing – in front not only of thousands of young people but also of his own family – of Charlie Kirk yesterday evening must rank amongst the most viscerally disturbing and potentially dangerous events of the past year. It is not, of course, the only example of gun violence – indeed, not even the only example of gun violence in the US yesterday – and nor is it the only killing, or attempted killing, this year of a figure in the US political arena, yet already it is clear that its impact on public life will be profound. At the time of writing, we know neither the identity nor the motive of the killer, yet it is already being described as a piece of political violence – and sadly, given the state of politics across the Atlantic and even on this side, too, there may be outrage but there is rather less surprise. We have sunk to this level, and we know it.

    The political response to these kinds of acts of violence is often mixed, but mainstream politicians – indeed, those who genuinely represent the mainstream perspectives of much of the population who sit somewhere around the centre ground – will usually see times like this as an opportunity to speak of, and genuinely strive for, unity. For all we disagree – sometimes vehemently and fundamentally – actualised violence in the public square is universally acknowledged as something to be avoided at all costs. It is through words that we disagree, and it is through democratic forms of accountability that we challenge and protest actions taken. A gun is never – and can never – be the answer to our differences. That way lies ruin and destruction, and, in the end, nobody benefits from cycles of violence – it is a path to civil unrest and devastation. This has been the accepted narrative through most of our recent history.

    Yet something seems to have changed, for the worse.

    As I say, as yet we do not know the identity of the killer, or their motive. Yet already we have heard a clear line being pushed by a number of politicians on both sides of the Atlantic that lay the blame for this on ‘the left’. In doing so, they play a very dangerous game indeed.

    Trump was first out the gates blaming the ‘radical left’. Musk, Yusuf, Harwood, Jenrick, and many more, followed him. X is full of sanctimonious blaming of ‘the left’ for fomenting this political violence. Others, like Nigel Farage, have followed, with allusions to ‘free speech’ which intentionally leave little to the imagination and suggest that there is a grand conspiratorial plot by their opponents to meet calm speech with violence. Indeed, the pervasive and rather vague language of ‘martyrdom’ is as disturbing as it is bizarre – and plain wrong.

    This does three deeply pernicious things. The first is to – again – blatantly ignore the impact of gun ownership, and the accompanying ‘God given right’ philosophy, on the potential for political violence in the US. The second is to blatantly ignore the swathe of political violence committed against those who would identify as left wing over the past year, pretending into existence an inevitable link between left-wing politics and violence, and further escalating the rhetoric that politicises and makes more dangerous an already tinder-box situation. And the third? In the process of doing this, to try to divert the public conversation from the actual rot at the heart of much of our contemporary public life and its source – cheap, amoral populism. It is to employ what is a horrifying human tragedy, with its structural underpinning, to further political game-playing and propaganda.

    Nobody in politics, from whatever wing, is immune from criticism in the way our public debate has been debased. This is not, really, a question of right and left, but rather, ultimately, of good faith and bad faith, whatever the political philosophy. There are plenty of right-wing and left-wing politicians who are able to clearly state this, and there are right-wing and left-wing identifying politicians and political commentators who instead choose to fan the flames of anger and division rather than seek for common ground. Yet our political ground – here and in the US – seems to have shifted to favour those who offer easy answers and lazy stereotyping in place of serious and calm debate. Politics has become less concerned with the common good, and instead tends towards authoritarian and totalitarian modes of behaving that all too easily take hold in our public life.

    And whilst it is true that words do not kill, we must surely not be naïve and imagine that our rhetoric has no impact, whoever we are, and however important we believe our cause to be. As cheap populism of all forms has grown in recent years, we have sat increasingly lightly to the truth and made use of caricature and lies to convince and convict others of our point of view. We have bought into the idea that ‘to win at all costs’ is the most legitimate of political philosophies, and forgotten the simple idea that telling the truth, and engaging with actual people and their ideas rather than caricatures and easy targets is the way to build a stable and secure democracy.

    We have, in the process, allowed bad actors to increasingly influence our debate, believing in and promoting the lie that saying disgusting and demeaning things ‘nicely’ and with a sense of ‘politeness’ is some form of hallowed civil public debate. We have similarly increasingly accepted the idea that ‘free speech’ in a democratic society comes with absolutely no responsibility – that disinformation, lies, dehumanising language are all important to preserve as part of ‘healthy debate’. Those who speak into public spaces cannot, surely, have carte blanche to stir up hate and even violence, however carefully and casuistically they say these things, and however much they smile at the same time in a performance of ‘reasonableness’.  

    At the same time, we have failed to pay proper attention to power dynamics and the unequal impact of our words on others, imagining that when we devalue another’s humanity it is all part of ‘the debate’. Not all words are equal, and nor is their impact – yet this simple and self-evident truth is all-too-frequently ignored. We ignore the fact that if we keep hacking away at another person with our rhetoric – and, indeed, with our actions – we cause deep wounds that dehumanise both them and us. In our pursuit of the mythical ‘freedom of speech’, we fail to remember that another key watchword of healthy democracies is the affording of dignity to all its members.

    Yet we seem unable to join the dots between intentional divisiveness, the dehumanising of opponents, the deserved and undeserved loss of trust in the institutions that have held us together, the fomenting of violent disagreement, the trivialising and normalising of violence in the public square (thinking, indeed, of January sixth), and the increasing preponderance of violence itself. It is – frankly – killing us.

    So how might the church speak into this space – especially an Established church like the Church of England? What might we do to try to play our part in reviving the best of public life and in banishing those things that lead to this kind of devastation?

    The first thing we must do, surely, is get our own house in order. Our public debates – the way we have spoken to and about each other, and spoken of each other’s ideas, has been a disgrace far too much of the time. Our willingness to scapegoat others, to see an issue and not a person, to blame someone else rather than take responsibility for our own actions and words, appears endless, and similarly our determination to debate in bad faith means our ‘good disagreement’ is nothing of the sort. At its best, the church – particularly an Established church – should, surely, be a place of genuine discussion and dignified (in its truest sense) debate. Imagine an Established church that gave the space for opposing points of view to meet, not only to find common ground but to more carefully understand and outline the differences that remain. Imagine a Church of England that could be not only an example of how things might be done, but the agora in which they actually are done.

    Yet we must not fool ourselves that this will happen overnight. Not only do we need to be a place that practices what we preach, but we need to find a way of speaking into public debate that dials down the rhetoric and promotes free and dignified speech in which the humanity of the other is our first concern. This will mean naming power imbalances and pointing out where cheap populism would rather scapegoat than engage. It means, for example, making clear that the question of immigration is not as simple as some wish to make out, and that simplistic answers will therefore not do. It means committing to listening as much as to speaking, and to recommitting to the idea of being accountable to one another as part of what it means to be human. It means respecting the other enough to really hear them, and building a society in which we can expect that from the other, too, where we might once again find trust in the public square.

    This is a hard ask, and it’s not something that’s going to happen overnight. Indeed, as much as the church wants to think of itself as a place and agent of reconciliation, let’s not be hasty and imagine we are at that stage yet. Perhaps the Church of England’s vocation, right now, is instead to call the nation to a period of reflection – one in which we need to share. This is not some nice-sounding but fruitless exercise – it is painful, and self-examining, and purposeful. This reflection is an active process – one where we have to be willing to attend to and address the rot, before we dare rebuild upon it. It is to call the nation – those of good will – to an active willingness to reject cheap populism and instead choose graceful truth-seeking, and be changed in the process. It is to reorient our public life. Perhaps, simply, this is the church’s vocation in such a time as this. If the Body of Christ cannot do it, then who can?

    And with God, nothing is impossible.

  • The Church is What We Do Next 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • The Sovereignty of God and Pastoral Responsibility in Political Turmoil

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

     

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

     

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

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

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

     

     Theological Foundations of God’s Sovereignty

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

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

     

    The Pastoral Perils of Simplistic Commentary on Election Outcomes

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

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

     

     Privilege, Power, and Pastoral Commentary

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

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

     

    Inequality and the Pursuit of Justice

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

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

     

    Pastoral Response to Right-Wing, Authoritarian Governments

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

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

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

     

    Conclusion: Toward a Faithful, Justice-Oriented Pastoral Presence

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

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

  • What do Others Think of Us?

    by Revd Rosalind Rutherford, a trustee of WATCH and a former member of General Synod during the passage of legislation for Women in the Episcopate

    Ten years ago, the Measure which would finally allow women to be appointed as bishops in the Church of England had been passed by General Synod (at a second attempt) and was working its way through Parliament, before receiving the Royal Assent. A few weeks after it became legal to appoint a bishop who was a woman, the Rev Libby Lane was announced as the new Bishop of Stockport, amid hopes that it really was a sign that gender discrimination had ended in the Church of England – or at least, was on the way out.

    One of the reasons that the Church of England moved quicker than anyone had imagined after the first attempt to legislate for women to be bishops failed (in November 2012) was that Parliament began to put pressure on the Church. The Church of England is the established church so it should not be so obviously lacking in gender equality among senior clergy. Specifically, Parliament wanted the Bench of Bishops in the House of Lords to include women as quickly as possible. In a climate in which bishops of the Church of England automatically having a place in the Lords was becoming less and less defensible, an all-male Bench of Bishops was even less justifiable. However, most diocesan bishops become members of the House of Lords in order of seniority, so without intervention it would still be several years before a bishop who was a woman became a member of the House of Lords. The “glass ceiling” would still remain unbroken in Parliament.

    This is why a simple piece of legislation was introduced in 2015, which stated that when a vacancy for a bishop arose in the House of Lords, the most senior woman would take precedence over any men. The initial legislation was time-limited because it was expected that, after ten years, enough women would be diocesan bishops for the most senior bishops to include women and men.

    But last week the House of Lords began the process of passing legislation to extend this legislation by another five years – the reason being that there are not yet not enough diocesan bishops who are women for there to be equal numbers of men and women introduced to the House of Lords. There are still only seven diocesan bishops who are women (in a month there will be eight). This raises the question of why there are still so few women among diocesan bishops.

    It can be salutary for us to hear what others are saying about the Church of England, so let’s turn to what was said by members of the Lords who spoke in the debate last week. What did they think of our commitment to diversity?

    For example:

    It is such a shame that the Church of England has to revisit this issue, as it was hoped back in 2015 that 10 years would be long enough to ensure that there were enough women diocesan bishops that the Lords spiritual would have some semblance of a gender balance. As somebody who had to organise gender balance among parliamentary candidates in my party, I realise that it is never an exact science. While there is welcome progress, the Lords spiritual still have the lowest proportion of females in the main groupings, at 24%.  (Baroness Brinton)

    In considering this Bill, we should be provided with a better understanding of why the Church has not done more to promote female bishops since 2014. For example, it is notable that, of the five episcopal sees with automatic seats in this House—namely, Canterbury, York, London, Durham and Winchester—only one is currently held by a woman. It would be helpful to know what particular efforts the Church of England is making to ensure gender equality amongst its own leadership and what the barriers that the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of St Albans references actually are. (Lord Devon)

    But what a fascinating and interesting position the country finds itself in that the Parliament of the UK must give legislative time to deal with the established Church’s centuries of discrimination against women taking senior roles and the slow progress it has made in ensuring that women Bishops have equal rights in this House.  (Lord Scriven)

    Important questions. Since 2015, twenty-two men have been nominated as diocesan bishops but only nine women, one of whom has already retired. In contrast, thirty-four women have been appointed as suffragan bishops and thirty-nine men.  The refusal (or inability) of CNCs to nominate diocesan bishops who are women has been noticed for several years now, and recently is becoming almost a scandal. Women are now among the most experienced suffragan bishops; they have proved their capability and ability, including several women being acting diocesan bishop during a vacancy, but there is a blockage when it comes to being nominated by a CNC. And there are strong reasons to think that this is because there are members of the CNCs who refuse to accept or vote for a woman to become the leader of a diocese.

    Those replying to such criticisms on behalf of the Church of England have invariably refused to accept that there is a structural and an ethical problem in the body that appoints bishops, but the recent failure of two CNCs to appoint now seems to be concentrating their minds.

    For example:

    I think it prudent to confess that we in the Church have made slower progress than we had hoped when it came to ensuring that our senior clergy are representative of the diverse congregations we serve. This is true both of women and of ethnic and racial minorities. We do not yet have proportionate representation of female bishops on these Benches, or in our diocesan bishops.

    Unfortunately, that pattern (or equal numbers of men and women appointed as bishops) has not consisted of as many female bishops as we had hoped, and we humbly ask this House to grant us a little longer to ensure that our excellent and qualified women bishops have enough time to overcome this barrier. (Bishop of St Albans)

    Similarly, the Bishop of Derby also admitted that there is still something blocking the appointment of women as diocesan bishops:

    Attention is being given to how the Crown Nominations Commission deliberates and selects candidates to senior posts, given the rate of appointment of women to such roles and our intent on greater diversity overall. My Right Reverend friend spoke of the pipelines we now have of gifted, experienced women in ministry; there are real questions about why they are not being appointed to diocesan roles more quickly. (Bishop of Derby)

    Is it as coincidence that, the day after this debate – a debate which forced the Church of England to admit that women are still being blocked from appointments as bishops – the House of Bishops announced that they propose to end secret ballots at CNC meetings?

    Such changes might limit the likelihood of CNC stalemates if one or two members refuse to vote for any woman, however experienced she may be and however much she may match the diocese’s person profile.  But it does not deal with the deep discrimination that still pervades all the structures and processes of the Church of England. It took a peer who self-described as secular to make a “The emperor has no clothes” speech! Lord Scriven moved rapidly to what he sees as the heart of the issue:

    We need to look a bit further at why the established Church has been so slow to deal with this discrimination, to see whether it is really committed to equality for women within its structures and to ensure that it is really committed to dealing with the misogyny and believes in the true equality of women within its structures, which is the basis the Bill is established on…

    …Although both sex and religion or belief are protected characteristics under the Equality Act 2010, the law is clear that individuals cannot discriminate against their colleagues just because their religion says they should.

    However, that discrimination still exists within the established Church, with a whole system that allows this to happen. The language used to describe and hide it is almost poetic. The CofE calls it “mutual flourishing”. Does that not conjure up a warm and sunlit world, one of equal relationships where all sides are equal and can flourish and reach their full potential based on mutual respect regardless of their sex or who they are?

    In practice, it is far from that. There has been a total abdication of responsibility by the leaders of the established Church since 2014, when women bishops were agreed to by the General Synod. A system has been set up to appease the misogyny—a system that is more about keeping the Church of England together rather than one built on mutual respect and equality for all. It is a system that the present leadership of the Church of England encourages and supports. It is not mutual flourishing but a system of institutionalised misogyny.

    In practice, what “mutual flourishing” means is that individual churches can refuse to accept women as priests or vicars. The CofE also permits churches to reject the authority of a female bishop. So the state Church affirms women as equal while at the same saying that it is alright for some churches not to accept them. In fact, nearly 600 churches reject the authority of women and flock under the frocks of what are referred to as “flying bishops”. Individual churches are permitted to refuse female vicars and are given the right to be overseen by flying bishops who also oppose women’s ordination, instead of their local bishop, male or female, who ordains women.

    How can it be in 2024 that the state Church is still discriminating against women, who represent about two-thirds of its congregation and half the population of this country? Does the Leader of the House feel it is correct that, ultimately, the Church of England should end its exemption under the Equality Act and stop legitimising the theology that some of its churches use to limit women’s ministry and equality when this Parliament is giving time to ensure that women Bishops can sit in this House more equally as a matter of principle? The Church of England loves to give the impression that the battle over women’s ministry is all sorted now but let us be clear: there is a long way to go. (Lord Scriven)

    Not surprisingly, this speech then moved to question the right and value of twenty-six bishops sitting by right in the House of Lords. It’s a different question from the one being debated, but a church which continues to legislate for discrimination will find it much harder to justify any automatic presence in the House of Lords, should it wish to do so. The Church of England likes to present itself as an institution that is able to include diversity – but the lack of women appointed as diocesan bishops is just the tip of a whole iceberg of discriminatory assumptions and practices.

     

    Full debate recorded in Hansard: see this link

     

     

     

  • The Bishops must be Bolder and Braver on Gaza

    by Dr Jonathan Chaplin, a Fellow of Wesley House, Cambridge and a lay member of Ely Diocesan Synod*

    Two weeks ago, Archbishop Welby reversed his earlier refusal to meet prominent Palestinian Christian leader, Revd Dr Munther Isaac, on account of the fact that Isaac had shared a platform with Jeremy Corbyn at a pro-Palestinian rally in London. For the first time, he also used the word ‘condemn’ of the Israeli onslaught on Gaza. These are important steps in a much-needed rebalancing of the Church of England’s official stances on the Gazan catastrophe.

    But there is more to do. Since October, the House of Bishops has issued three statements on the war, most recently in February. Coming from the appointed teachers of the established Church, they deserve a respect which must include critical scrutiny. Many elements of these statements are commendable, but they fall short on two fundamental counts.

    First, while the bishops eventually made clear their ‘moral’ disapproval of the Israeli military campaign, they fail explicitly to name Israeli actions as violations of international humanitarian law and war crimes.

    At this point there can be no doubt on the matter. As early as late October, a public letter from British lawyers to the UK government – now signed by 1100 – made clear that, even then, there was ample evidence of multiple specific violations of many international laws by the Israeli state. Months later, the extent and severity of these violations has expanded enormously. In January, the International Court of Justice delivered the extraordinary ruling that Israeli actions were ‘plausibly genocidal’, ordering Israel urgently to take all measures to prevent that outcome (which it has ignored).

    The horrifying scale of deaths and injuries has been amply reported, resulting from recklessly disproportionate and indiscriminate Israeli bombardments. Almost all Gazan hospitals are destroyed or dysfunctional. 80% of the population has been displaced and are barely surviving in catastrophically inhumane conditions while still under military assault. Well over 50% of buildings in Gaza have been damaged or flattened, meaning most Gazans will have nowhere to return when the fighting stops. 90% of educational institutions, numerous churches and mosques and irreplaceable cultural sites have been damaged or destroyed, and much agricultural land has been rendered useless. Many Gazans now face starvation due to continuing drastic Israeli restrictions on the supply of humanitarian aid – another war crime – and official bodies have reported that children are already dying as a result.

    None of this can remotely be justified under Israel’s ‘right to defend itself’, a phrase repeatedly but uncritically invoked by the bishops. As Francesca Albanese, UN special rapporteur for the West Bank and Gaza, observes, a state cannot invoke this right against a territory that it is belligerently occupying. Israel is not bound by some iron necessity to inflict this level of devastating collective punishment on defenceless Gazans. International law demands that Israel find other ways to protect its citizens against Hamas and retrieve its hostages.

    It is not enough for the bishops merely to express ‘moral’ disapproval of such criminal acts, since this is easily dismissed as a subjective judgment that can be legitimately contested. If what is happening in Gaza is to be truthfully described, these acts must be named as publicly verifiable and culpable breaches of international law.

    Second, the bishops’ statements fail to convey anything like an adequate recognition of the larger historical and political context of sustained Israeli oppression of Palestinians, since at least the 1967 illegal occupation. That complex history is, of course, read through radically different lenses. But there is ample verifiable evidence to support the bishops’ issuing a much fuller acknowledgement of the scale, intensity and recent harsh escalation of Israeli state oppression of Palestinians, which the Israeli human rights organisation B’Tselem in 2021 named as amounting to ‘apartheid’.

    The House of Bishops urgently needs to speak more bravely into a calamity in which Britain is itself deeply implicated historically. It will thereby send a much more credible message of Christian solidarity to the people of Gaza who have felt abandoned by many western churches.

    *an edited version of a speech in support of Dr Chaplin’s private member’s motion at Ely Diocesan Synod on 9 March 2024, seconded by the Revd James Shakespeare (Rural Dean, Cambridge South). The motion, which was carried narrowly, calls on the House of Bishops to issue a much stronger statement on Gaza that they have so far.

  • Language, Warfare and Lawfare – Gaza in Perspective

    by the Very Revd. Canon Professor Martyn Percy, Fellow at University of Edinburgh, King’s College London & Harris Manchester College Oxford

    An obvious observation to make is, ‘what perspective?’ There seems to be so little on the current crisis engulfing Gaza and beyond, only noise, solidarity-signalling and fury matched by long silences and the unsaid. There are plenty of points of view, to be sure. But they’re not quite the same as perspectives.

    The terms ‘perspective’ and ‘point of view’ are frequently used as though synonymous. They are not. A point of view is a space or place from which a story is told or unfolds. A perspective, however, is the analysis of the events and actors, and their motivations, beliefs and conduct. Perspectives can take account of worldviews, culture, heritage and experience. While a point of view might assert or argue the ‘when’, ‘who’ and the ‘what’ of history, a perspective should offer illumination on the ‘why’, ‘how’ and intended meanings of sources.

    So when a group of prominent Jewish lawyers recently published a letter (Financial Times, 17 October) and issued a statement from the Balfour Project, it was immediately apparent that this was a perspective worthy of heeding. Lord Neuberger, Former President of the UK Supreme Court, Philippe Sands KC, Sandra Fredman, University of Oxford, with several others, argued that the laws of war must guide Israel’s response to the Hamas atrocity of October 7th:

    We write as Jews, many of us with family and friends directly affected by the tragedy that has befallen Israel. Like so many others, the vile crimes perpetrated by Hamas in Israel have shaken us to our core. We also write in our capacity as lawyers. We do so because, instilled with our Jewish values, we believe that law, and the adherence to the rule of law, provide an invaluable guide to begin to make sense of what we are witnessing and to provide a path to govern responses to it. In these darkest of days, we write to emphasise the importance of international law as a guide to all.

    In their published statement, they go on to say that “one war crime must not…be avenged by committing another”, and that

    …nothing can justify the ‘complete siege of the Gaza Strip’ declared by the Israeli Government. Denying electricity, food, water, medicine and fuel to a civilian population is a war crime committed by a state… All human life is equal.

    The authors note that Gaza is the most densely populated land on our planet and, as the occupying power, “Israel has a clear legal obligation to safeguard the welfare of the civilians” yet by an “unprecedented aerial bombardment and threatened ground offensive, Israel is inflicting horrendous loss of life on over two million civilians”. Others will claim the rules of war allow for an entirely different perspective, and may argue that action in the cause of self-defence, even proactive, is legitimate. That the ends justify the means, no matter the cost.

    Where mediation may yet help all the parties out of this apocalypse, it will be the law that resolves the crisis. The Balfour Project statement was judicious in referring to Jewish law and our shared obligations under international law. At this moment, that emphasis is right and proper. Yet ancient Jewish law also offers a helpful perspective on the present conflict, not least because, at core level, this is part of our shared legal ecology across the developed world.

    In the New University Library at St. Andrews, Fife, affixed to a wall, is a quotation from James Wilson, dating from Philadelphia in 1768. Wilson grew up in Fife. In the New World he became a leading legal authority who helped to frame the independence declared from 1776. His words are bold in their simplicity:

    All men are by nature equal and free. No-one has a right to any authority over another without his consent…lawful government is founded on the consent of those who are subject to it.

    Contemporary readers of Thomas Paine’s influential pamphlet Common Sense (1776) are frequently surprised by the amount of space he devotes to scriptural reasoning. Paine, a British-born but pro-American independence politician, noted that, for the ancient Jews, monarchy was an idolatrous delusion contrary to Mosaic Law. In the Old Testament, strong, singular, entitled and unaccountable leadership was forbidden.

    Instead the Israelites’ preferred form of governance was that of the Judges – Joshua, Gideon, Deborah and others – who placed themselves under the Law, clear that it was “the Lord God who rules over you”. Gideon declined to be anointed King (Judges 8), telling the Israelites that kingship was not theirs to bestow upon him. Gideon was opposed to dynastic, inherited kingship, regarding it as ‘heathen’.

    The Old Testament promoted an alternative – a form of ‘positive liberty’ that was based on a just social order (c.f. Isaiah Berlin, Four Essays on Liberty (OUP, 1969), pp. 118-172). Leviticus, for example, demands that those who lose their livelihoods are supported by their neighbours. The lives, lands, and livestock of the vulnerable are protected. The Old Testament holiness code is one that promotes interdependence.

    The holiness code also limited the power of any monarch or ruler. A king must be one of your kin (Deuteronomy 17:14-20), and not above the citizens. Crucially, the only role the monarch has is to study, practice, dispense and obey the law. Please note, our leaders today – whether elected or imposed – should be upholders of the law, not lobbying the Court of Appeal trying to change law in order to secure conservative right-wing political cache.

    Old Testament laws were regarded as directly mediated from God. As the covenant between God and humanity, they transformed a legal code into collective sacred duty. The covenant reminded Israel of its fate when it was denied rights and legal protection:

    …remember when you were a slave in Egypt…God redeemed you from there. I, God, therefore command you to observe and protect the rights of the orphan, widow, alien and vulnerable (Deuteronomy 24: 18-22).

    What was crucial to Jewish identity (and arguably remains the case) is not whether an individual believes in God, but rather, do they observe the law? The obligations to follow the law are fundamental.

    Today, this attitude to law has transmuted into a much wider fundamental respect for judges, legislature and the jurisdiction of the state. We believe it is the law that is the ultimate authority, with politicians, including any President, constrained by their constitution.

    Which brings us to Gaza. Since 1650 BCE it probably ranks as one of the oldest continuously occupied cities in history. In old Arabic, its name means ‘fierce, strong’. Conquered by ancient empires – Egyptian, Greek, Roman, Assyrian, Philistine, Canaanite and Persian – by the time of Jesus’ ministry, it was a model of diversity with a multi-ethnic governing assembly.

    Gaza is cited by name in Jewish, Christian and Muslim sacred writings. Sometimes it is just a geographical reference, and no more. The Ethiopian Eunuch – a black, African transgendered individual whose name we never learn, became the first recorded African convert to Christianity (Acts Chapter 8) while travelling in a chariot on the road between Jerusalem and Gaza.

    Over the last two thousand years Gaza city has been held by the Byzantine and Mongol empires, captured by the crusaders, and conquered by Islamic and Ottoman forces. Today, around two million people live there – a mixture of Sunni Muslims and Palestinian Christians, comprising Protestant, Anglican and Roman Catholic. Several hundred thousand live in one of the eight refugee camps in the territory, after exile from the Arab-Israeli conflicts of 1948, 1967 (Six Day War) and 1973 (Yom Kippur War). The Gaza Strip was ceded to the Palestinian Authority under the terms of the 1993 Oslo Accord, with Israel finally vacating possession in 2004.

    In the wider Gaza province and suburbs, the population numbers around two million people, crammed into an area the size of Sevenoaks in Kent. Incidentally, Sevenoaks has a population of 29,000 – and one need not dwell too much on what expanding a Kentish town’s population by close to one-hundredfold might do to a sitting Conservative MP’s prospects at the next election.

    So far as we know, Jesus never visited Gaza. Yet he was well-acquainted with places and peoples who had been subjected to multiple illegal occupation, exile, invasion and domination. One could say that Jesus’ entire ministry is spent among an assortment of the dispossessed, disinherited and decimated. Yet the core proclamation from this young rabbi was essentially one of peace and justice.

    Jesus came from Nazareth (Galilee), but his birth was in Bethlehem, Judea. But had there been no census at Bethlehem, Jesus would have been born in Galilee. This territory was not part of the Roman Empire. Galilee was a ‘client province’ of the Empire, and under the heel of Rome, but allowed to be ruled by the Herodian Dynasty. Herod and his son, Antipas were ‘kings’ in the lifetime of Jesus, but mere puppet rulers there to keep order on the edge of an Empire, granted titles and freedoms in return for loyalty.

    When it came to the trials of Jesus prior to his crucifixion, Pilate washed his hands of the affair because Jesus, as a Galilean, was not subject to Roman law or jurisdiction. Nor was Jesus subject to Judean law. The Sadducees, Scribes and Pharisees wanted Jesus tried under Jewish law, but neither Herod nor Pilate could oblige. The High Priests argued blasphemy should lead to the automatic death penalty, but the only way of achieving that end was to avoid a trial altogether, and judge and condemn Jesus without any due legal process. That is precisely what happens. Remember Caiaphas’ words: “…what need have we of witnesses?!”

    Such was the vengeful hysteria, sentence was passed on Jesus before trial. He was denied due legal process, because were that to have happened, he would most likely have been acquitted.

    The statement from the eminent Jewish lawyers of the Balfour Project is a reminder that the only common ground we stand on in a screaming, violent apocalyptic crisis is uncompromising practice of the law. It is the calm reasoning of human rights and due legal process that need to be heard above the cacophony of shouts for vengeance. The only way to bring about peace – and quiet – is justice.

     

     

  • Marriage Law in England and Wales – Some Reflections

    by Revd Dr Helen Hall, Nottingham Trent University and Professor Javier Garcia Oliva, Head of Law, University of Manchester

    (the third in a series of four: based on a presentation to the June 26th Symposium on Same-Sex Marriage in the Church of England organised by Sir Ben Bradshaw and Jayne Ozanne)

     

    Marriage Law in England and Wales-Current Framework and Proposed Reform

    Jurisdiction

    • Marriage law (and family law more generally) in England and Wales is distinct from that in Scotland.
    • This is not a recent development arising from devolution, but due to the agreement prior to the Act of Union, according to which Scotland would be permitted to keep its own legal system.
    • The analysis below relates exclusively to England and Wales, except where otherwise indicated.
    • Although Anglicanism was formally disestablished by the Welsh Church Act 1914, for the purposes of marriage law, the Church in Wales largely continues to operate as an established Church.
    • However, it should be noted that disestablishment means that the Church in Wales has no power to amend the civil law framework. It is completely dependent on Parliament in this regard.

    Current Framework

    • For historical reasons, there are four distinct routes to a legally binding marriage:  Anglican Marriage; Quaker and Jewish Marriages; Civil Marriage; and Other Forms of Religious Marriage where a faith group has opted-in (hereafter referred to as “Opt-In Marriages” in this paper).
    • Marriages outside of these four categories are not illegal in the sense of being prohibited, but they will NOT create a legally binding marriage in English/Welsh law.
    • Marriages which take place in other jurisdictions are ordinarily treated as creating a legally binding marriage in England/Welsh law, provided that they were legally valid according to the rules of the State in which they were celebrated.
    • Opt-In Marriages are performed by an authorised person, but must take place in a building registered for religious worship.
    • This means that there is no provision for Humanist marriages, nor any scope for faith groups which do not meet in a registered building, either because they lack sufficient members and money, or because their practices involve worshipping at home or in outdoor settings.

    Problems with the Current Framework

    • As a headline, it is unduly complex and bureaucratic.
    • Some parties to non-binding religious marriages are unaware that they have no legal protection until their relationship breaks down. It is only at that point that they learn that they were simply cohabiting, and are, therefore, entitled to no financial relief.
    • Individuals for whom English/Welsh is a second language are at increased risk of confusion.
    • Local decision making on opting-in may add to the confusion; it is not always enough to ask what faith community performed the ceremony, e.g. a Muslim marriage or a Sikh marriage might or might not be legally binding, depending on whether the community in question had opted-in.
    • A significant number of non-legally binding religious marriages are taking place. This leads to unequal outcomes should the relationship break down, or one of the parties die without leaving a will. It can also trap vulnerable people in abusive relationships, especially women. The lack of access to financial relief may make it very difficult for a person to leave their partner, if they have no housing and are economically dependent. The situation is exacerbated still further if they are from a cultural background which stigmatises separation, and their families and friends are unable/unwilling to offer support.

    Proposals for Reform

    • The Law Commission has proposed significant reforms:

    1)         Regulation of the Officiant instead of the venue (i.e. an end to the need to celebrate Opt-In marriages in a registered building).

    2)         Universal rules for ALL weddings

    • Couples would be able to give notice of their intended wedding online, and to choose the registration district where they would then be interviewed by a registration officer.
    • Notice of upcoming weddings would be published online so that the information was accessible to the wider community.
    • There would be great accommodation of the diversity of beliefs e.g. It would be possible to have a religious ceremony in a venue other than a place of worship and without having to incorporate prescribed words into the ceremony. It is suggested that there should also be an option for couples of different faiths to have a religious ceremony led by an interfaith minister that contains aspects of each of the couple’s beliefs. Finally, the rigid division between civil and religious marriages would be axed, allowing couples to have some religious elements, such as hymns and prayers, incorporated into their civil ceremony (as long as the ceremony remained “identifiably civil”.)

    Implications for Same Sex Marriage and the Church of England

    • This does not directly impact on same sex marriage and the Church of England, but there are a number of indirect implications.

    1)         This supports McLean’s thesis of “marriage” being a legal institution offered and regulated by the State, even though it may choose to delegate the ceremonial and administrative elements to third parties, including faith groups.

    2)         Respecting the diversity of beliefs present in contemporary society is a key element of the proposals, and no denomination would be forced to offer marriage ceremonies to all comers on an equal basis. It would clearly violate Article 9 of the ECHR and the rules of statutory interpretation, if any legislation enacted on the basis of the Law Commission proposals were interpreted as requiring all Anglican clergy to offer same sex marriages, or demanding that Roman Catholic priests and Orthodox Rabbis perform wedding ceremonies for non-Catholic/Jewish atheists or members of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti monster.

    3)         The Church of England (and indeed all faith groups) would have to decide how to respond to the possibility of its clergy being involved in interfaith ceremonies, or providing “religious elements” of a civil ceremony, where the parties to the marriage were of the same sex. Given the scope for considerably increased flexibility in respect of wording and ceremonies, it is easy to see how Anglican clergy could be effectively “performing” same sex marriages hosted by a friendly neighbouring denomination, or conceivably even in the context of a civil ceremony, depending on how the “identifiably civil” part was interpreted. The church would have to decide how it wanted to respond to this.

    4)         With a much freer wedding economy, couples would have far greater scope to have a religious/Christian backdrop to their ceremony without going to the local parish church.  Consequently, if the Church of England wanted to continue to encourage weddings as potential opportunities for evangelism/outreach, and source of income, then it would do well to ponder how excluding same sex couples would affect perceptions of Anglicanism and Anglican marriage.

    • It must be stressed that not all proposals of the Law Commission become law, and even those that do often undergo substantial transformation before being enacted.
    • There is a considerable pressure for reform of wedding law, particularly in light of some recent high-profile litigation in relation to a woman seeking some mechanism to obtain financial relief when leaving a non-legally binding religious marriage. The conclusion of the appellate court was that neither divorce nor nullity could help. For the reasons outlined above, the vulnerability of people in this situation means that there is now an urgent reason to overhaul an idiosyncratic and piecemeal system which has been evolving in a haphazard fashion since the eighteenth century.
    • The collateral implications of all of this for same sex marriages in an Anglican setting are indirect, but very significant.

     

     

     

     

     

  • Can Parliament Permit Church of England Clergy to Marry Same-Sex Couples? Should it?

    by Professor Iain McLean, FBA FRSE, Professor Emeritus of Politics, Oxford University and a fellow of Nuffield College. As a Quaker, he was a consultant to Britain Yearly Meeting of the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers) for their lobbying on the ‘Alli amendment’ (to the Equality Act 2010, permitting faith communities to conduct civil partnerships) and on the Marriage (Same Sex Couples) Act 2013

    (the second in a series of four. based on a presentation to the June 26th Symposium on Same-Sex Marriage in the Church of England organised by Sir Ben Bradshaw and Jayne Ozanne)

    On 21 March 2023, Ben Bradshaw MP (Lab., Exeter) introduced a Ten-Minute Rule Bill ‘to enable clergy of the Church of England to conduct same sex marriages on Church of England premises in certain circumstances’. It was co-sponsored by parliamentarians from the Conservative, Labour, Liberal Democrat, and Green parties (no nationalists; the bill would apply in England only). Introducing it, Mr (now Sir) Ben Bradshaw stated that it had the support of Sir Tony Baldry (former MP (Cons, Banbury) and Second Church Estates Commissioner). He also stated that

    My preference—and, I imagine, that of most colleagues—would be for the Church to do this itself….The main motivation in introducing it is to encourage the bishops to stick to the commitments and timetable agreed by February’s Synod and resist any delay or backsliding at the next Synod in July.

    The current Second Church Estates Commissioner, Andrew Selous, responded

    [I]t is necessary to respond to the Bill in my capacity as Second Church Estates Commissioner because it seeks to usurp the role of the democratically elected General Synod of the Church of England, as well as to remove the freedom of the Church of England to decide its own doctrine, a freedom that members from all parts of this House champion for religions and beliefs all over the world and one that we should therefore apply equally to the Church of England (Hansard, Commons, 21 March 2023).

    Earlier, in response to an Urgent Question, he had said:

    In order to change canon law on the doctrine of holy matrimony, there has to be a two-thirds majority in the House of Bishops, the House of Clergy and the House of Laity of the General Synod, which is itself a devolved body of this Parliament, and the vast majority of whose members are elected. There is not currently a two-thirds majority in the General Synod to change canon law on the doctrine of holy matrimony (Hansard, Commons, 24 January 2023).

    … although he modified this answer two days later to say

    the advice I was given then was by the Church legal office, and I was yesterday asked to make a small clarification. A simple majority in each of the three Houses of the General Synod could suffice to pass a measure and amending canon to change the definition of marriage in ecclesiastical law, but circumstances could also arise in which two-thirds majorities in the House of Bishops and the House of Clergy would be needed, and, as with all authorised forms of service, a two-thirds majority in each House would be required for the approval of the Synod as a form of service for the marriage of a same-sex couple (Hansard, Commons, 26 January 2023).

    A Ten-Minute Bill is purely expressive speech. Mr Bradshaw’s bill received a first reading without a division, but is tabled for its second reading on a day when Parliament will not be sitting. Nevertheless, the matter remains of current interest. The General Synod of the Church of England meets in July and November 2023. The agenda for July contains no such proposed Measure. If the Synod declines to introduce a Measure to permit those clergy who so wish to conduct same-sex weddings in their churches, can Parliament intervene with a Private Member’s Bill, which unlike a Ten-Minute Bill receives substantive debate? And should it?

    Can Parliament intervene?

    It certainly can. The orthodox doctrine of Parliamentary sovereignty maintains that Parliament remains supreme, even when it has delegated authority to bodies such as the Scottish and Welsh Parliaments, and the General Synod of the Church of England. Since delegating authority to what is now the General Synod in 1919, Parliament has intervened in the doctrine of the Church of England, most notoriously in the ‘Prayer Book controversy’ of 1927-8. Twice, the House of Commons turned down the Church of England prayer book, on the grounds that it was too close to Roman Catholicism. The decisive majority included Calvinist MPs from Scotland and Ulster. They could vote, because of parliamentary sovereignty, even though it was an England-only matter.

    The doctrines of the Church of England have less protection from Parliamentary interference than do those of the Church of Scotland. Both Parliament and the courts interfered with the doctrines of the Kirk, the former by the Patronage Act 1711 and the latter in various court judgements culminating in the Free Church case (Bannatyne v. Overtoun [1904] AC 515). In 1711 Parliament enacted a right for lay patrons to nominate ministers. In 1904 the judicial House of Lords awarded all those assets of the large United Free (UF) Church of Scotland that had come from the former Free Church to the tiny continuing Free Church, on the grounds that

    the Establishment principle and the Westminster Confession were distinctive tenets of the Free Church; that the Free Church had no power, where property was concerned, to alter or vary the doctrine of the Church; that there was no true union …; and that the appellants were entitled to hold for behoof of the Free Church the property held by the Free Church before the union in 1900.

    To forestall any repetition, the Church of Scotland and the UF Church, who were merging, obtained a remarkable abnegation of Parliamentary sovereignty in the Church of Scotland Act 1921 c.29 (‘An Act to declare the lawfulness of certain Articles declaratory of the Constitution of the Church of Scotland in matters spiritual prepared with the authority of the General Assembly of the Church.’). These Articles Declaratory, drafted by the General Assembly, trump any statutes that might conflict with them.

    This ancient history illustrates two bad ways of interfering with religious freedom. Both 1711 and 1927-8 were instances of what is now called the ‘West Lothian Question’, in which a measure affecting only one part of the UK is enacted against the majority vote of members from that part. The majority of Scots MPs voted against the 1711 Act. The majority of English MPs voted in favour of the Prayer Book. And the courts would not now presume to wade in to identify the fundamental tenets of a religion and use that as a basis for assigning property. Are there, though, any good grounds for parliamentary involvement in religion?

    Should it?

    There are two main arguments against introducing a bill to permit C of E clergy to solemnise same-sex marriage, and two main arguments in favour.

    The first argument against is that what is delegated should stay delegated. By delegating authority to the Church of England, Parliament extricated itself from what had been very time-consuming and messy arguments about, for instance, divorce, the Roman Catholic presence in England, and marriage to a deceased wife’s sister. The second argument against is that espoused by Andrew Selous above: that intervention would ‘remove the freedom of the Church of England to decide its own doctrine’.

    The first argument in favour of intervention is that a purely permissive measure cannot be detrimental to religious freedom. On this argument, individuals have freedom; organisations, not so much. In its zeal to protect the religious freedom of clergy opposed to same-sex marriage, the Marriage (Same-Sex Couples) Act 2013, it is argued, tramples on the religious freedom of clergy supportive of same-sex marriage. As noted in the Ten Minute debate, various denominations have opted in under the 2013 Act or its Scottish equivalent, in all cases permissively. Both Acts protect the conscience of those unwilling to conduct same-sex marriages when their faith group has decided to be open to them.

    The second argument is that the Church of England is for some purposes an agent of the state. Ever since 1753, when it was granted a monopoly of marriage in England & Wales (except for Quakers and Jews, who are still treated differently), it has regulated property and succession rights on behalf of the state. All parish clergy act as registrars – a civil function – when they officiate at a wedding. In addition, they have a common-law duty to marry parishioners, and couples have a common-law right to ask to be married in the parish church of either of them. However, as the Explanatory Notes to the 2013 Act make clear:

    Subsections (4) and (5) provide that any duty of a member of the clergy of the Church of England or the Church in Wales to solemnize a marriage does not extend to same sex couples. In addition, any corresponding right of parishioners to be married by such clergy does not extend to same sex couples. The effect of this is that the common law duty on the clergy of the Church of England and the Church in Wales to marry parishioners is not extended to same sex couples.

    Examples…

    A man lives next door to a Church of England parish church and wishes to get married there. He is getting married to a woman. Neither of them has ever attended services at the church or professes to be Christian. He speaks to the vicar who agrees to marry the couple, given his legal duty to marry parishioners.

    A man who lives next door to a Church of England parish church wishes to get married there. He is getting married to a man. Both of them regularly attend services at the church and are committed Christians. He speaks to the vicar who has to refuse to marry the couple, since it would not be lawful for him to do so and the legal duty to marry parishioners does not extend to same sex couples.

    For a text presumably drafted by civil servants and/or parliamentary drafters, this seems unusually forthright.

    The ‘quadruple lock’ inserted in the 2013 Act at the request of conservative denominations contains a couple of tumblers that are unique to the Church of England. They are section 1 subsections 3-5:

    (3) No Canon of the Church of England is contrary to section 3 of the Submission of the Clergy Act 1533 (which provides that no Canons shall be contrary to the Royal Prerogative or the customs, laws or statutes of this realm) by virtue of its making provision about marriage being the union of one man with one woman.

    (4) Any duty of a member of the clergy to solemnize marriages (and any corresponding right of persons to have their marriages solemnized by members of the clergy) is not extended by this Act to marriages of same sex couples.

    (5) A “member of the clergy” is—

    (a) a clerk in Holy Orders of the Church of England, or

    (b) a clerk in Holy Orders of the Church in Wales.

    Subsection (3) is declaratory, and nobody’s religious freedom would be impaired by its repeal. The effect of repealing subsections (4) and (5) would be to remove the anomaly highlighted in the Explanatory Notes.

    I conclude that a Private Member’s Bill to repeal these subsections would be a simple way of granting parliamentary approval of the consciences of clergy who wish to conduct same-sex marriage, while preserving all the protections already in the 2013 Act for clergy who do not. If such a bill won parliamentary time (which requires at least the tacit consent of the government of the day), the votes on it would be classically ‘conscience’ matters and no party would be expected to whip its members. Unlike in 1927, however, Scottish and Northern Irish members should not vote.