ViaMedia

Category: Young People

  • Creating Family: A Perspective on the Debate on Looked-after Children and Those in Care

    by Helen King, member of General Synod 2021-2026; vice-chair, Together for the Church of England

    The July Synod agenda went through a few last-minute changes this time, including moving the debate on the Private Member’s Motion on looked-after children and those in care; a motion asking for a lead bishop, who can act as a focus for raising public awareness, and for work within dioceses to support this. I had put in to speak on this one so was very disappointed that the new time set was precisely when I had to see a hospital specialist yesterday morning. The motion was moved by Billy-Jo O’Leary, speaking from her experience as a Synod member who had spent time in care. The points I’d hoped to make were not made, so I have simply edited my draft speech here to add some references to what was said – the joy of being able to watch the debate on catch-up – and changed the tense to take into account of the that the motion was passed – unanimously.

    While I am not always a great fan of ‘let’s have a Lead Bishop for’ whatever concern we have, I think this was a very valuable motion. It highlights the obstacles currently faced by those leaving the care system, but I would urge that the role description for this bishop’s appointment should include promoting what for many is the best route out of the care system: adoption. We should not be put off by the shameful history of the church homes which carried out forced adoption. Adoption has changed beyond recognition and I suspect some of us have no idea what adoption means today.

    Unsurprisingly, based in cultures where adoption of adults was normal, the Bible uses the very strong imagery of all of us being adopted into God’s family; e.g. Galatians 4. If the Church is a family – and that language needs to be used with care, since for some people the family has been the site of the abuse which has damaged their lives – if the Church is a family, then it is a family formed by adoption. The trouble with these references is that they can sound too cosy. They can make adoption sound like it’s very simple. They don’t do justice to the issues raised by adopting a child or young person who may have been through all sorts of trauma, including that of being taken from their birth family.

    Adoption now

    In the debate, Sheila Bissell mentioned how long the process takes, but there is so much more that needs to be said. Like some of those who spoke, I have colleagues and friends who have adopted. So I know that there is a huge amount of vetting, training and support offered to potential adopters, and the support continues after the legal processes are complete. The language of finding one’s ‘forever family’, used by one speaker in the debate, misses the point that there is much more concern than in the past with maintaining relationships with the birth family, where this is possible (and attempts are made to find a kinship adopter before looking outside that family). We must also face the fact that adoption is not always the end of the story; some adoptions are not without pain, and some don’t work.

    But we should all note with concern the decline in the last 5 years in the number of children leaving care and moving into adoption; there are not enough people coming forward to adopt. In her opening speech, Billy-Jo noted that over 100,000 children in the UK are currently in care. We didn’t hear any figures for adoption. Billy-Jo mentioned race but, while the legacy of forced adoption shows us how the idealised model of the white middle-class nuclear family used to dominate, today adopters can’t only be from other racial backgrounds; they can also be single; over 50; and not owning their own homes.

    Sexuality: a significant omission…

    A significant omission from yesterday’s debate was affirmation of those who are LGBTQIA+ and in committed relationships and who have chosen to adopt. This seems to me pretty typical of our failure as a Church to recognise their contributions. Synod needs to know that sexuality is not a bar to adoption. A 2021 article in the journal Child Development concluded that “Given the large number of children in need of adoptive families, adoption agencies should give greater consideration to gay couples as prospective adoptive parents.” In 2025, the agency Adoption Matters had 40% of those approved to adopt identifying as LGBTQ+, pointing out that “What IS important is the commitment, resilience, stability and love that children who have suffered early childhood trauma ALL need.” Department of Education figures for 2025 state that 1 in 5 adoptions were by gay couples. Another agency, Adopt Thames Valley, currently aims to increase applications from the LGBTQ+ community “who are more likely to adopt children who typically wait the longest and are significantly more likely to adopt sibling groups”.

    And these figures exclude gay solo adopters like my colleague who adopted a toddler in 2024. She has written:

    “I think being a queer woman, especially of my generation, has given me quite a helpful perspective on adoption. I spent my formative years under the shadow of Section 28, and left to feel an outsider as a result, as ‘ideal’ family life was always presented as biological and nuclear. I think this experience is helping me put myself in the shoes of a child whose family life doesn’t fit that mould, because of their history and adoption. LGBTQ+ people – many marginalised people – tend to know all too well what it feels like to be seen as different, and to understand instinctively the importance of chosen family. There are positive messages from this we can pass on to our adopted children.”

    The log in our eye

    Finally, I was disturbed in the debate by what came across as self-congratulation on how good Christians are at offering to adopt; Julie Maxwell said that “We need Christians to step up”. We need people in general to step up! And let’s make sure we have seen the log in our own eye. We heard in the debate from Michaela Suckling about how the young person to whom she was the independent visitor was let down by a church youth club. In the Church we make all sorts of assumptions about ‘family’: but it doesn’t require two parents. And, when it comes to solo adoption, this can be difficult for Christians in some sorts of churches; I have spoken to another solo adopter who has felt repeatedly judged by Christian acquaintances who assume that she has given birth to a child without being married.

    Finally, I’d recommend that we don’t overlap the responsibilities by appointing a lead bishop who is also working on the forced adoption apologies: the new lead bishop needs to focus on looked-after children today. She or he needs to take the lead in educating our Church on what adoption, and also ‘family’, means now.

  • When the Music Fades: the Soul Survivor Generation

    by Dr Lucy Sixsmith, Research Fellow in English at St John’s College, Cambridge and author of When the Music Fades

    To understand Soul Survivor, I think you need to know about the shirts. This will sound trivial; I realise that. Soul Survivor, from 1993 until 2019, was an organisation running summer festivals in the charismatic evangelical tradition, for teenagers and young adults. It also became (and still is) a church in Watford. The founder, leader and constant on-stage presence at Soul Survivor festivals was Mike Pilavachi, and you could tell he was Mike Pilavachi by his interesting shirts.

    Mike always wore a particular style of multi-coloured shirt at the summer festivals, a West African dashiki rebranded as a trademark shirt for a Greek British youth leader at a substantially white middle-class British summer camp. My youngest brother remembers the shirts being on sale in the Soul Survivor marketplace, not as dashikis, with their own cultural history, but as Mike Pilavachi shirts. There was a Soul Survivor tradition of Mike’s Bad Karaoke; one year he sang ‘I’m too sexy for my shirt’ to ten thousand teenagers. In vulnerable moments, during preaching, he’d sit down on the edge of the stage, like it was just Mike and his youth group, one hand plucking at the patterned central panel that makes a dashiki distinctive.

    In 2023, when survivors came forward and the Church of England’s National Safeguarding Team investigated allegations of emotional abuse, inappropriate relationships, wrestling, and massaging, those shirts must have seemed convenient to the people choosing pictures for news articles. For any story about this latest scandal, there was a picture with an eye-catching shirt.

    Part of what I mean here is that Mike Pilavachi was a persona. A trademark shirt can be like a costume which sets the wearer apart as someone not quite like everyone else, someone likably independent, a bit of a character. A multi-coloured trademark shirt at a Christian summer youth festival belongs to a world which is not quite real. Brighter, warmer, cartoon-like, more fun, more vibrant: the holiday atmosphere of a Christian summer youth festival offered what we used to call a ‘mountaintop experience’ in charismatic circles. Kids looked forward to Soul Survivor partly as a place to have fun and partly as a place to encounter God, and Mike performed the role of lovable overseer, buffoonishly whole-hearted.

    The mythology of Soul Survivor was that everything was done in chaos by faithful amateurs and it only came together because it was God’s idea. Consequently, Mike Pilavachi seemed less like a celebrity and more like everyone’s friend. I didn’t notice that the myth didn’t match the way Soul Survivor had become a model for youth ministry across the country. If it was God, it must be good. So I joined those crowds all through the noughties, from the age of fourteen to twenty-one or so, and always thought of Soul Survivor as a healthy benchmark, a useful compare-and-contrast when other charismatic movements drew out my scepticism.

    In 2023, while the National Safeguarding Team investigated Mike Pilavachi’s immediate relationships with colleagues and interns, I found myself wondering about the whole entire thing. Clearly, there were investigations that needed to be made, stories that needed to be heard or held respectfully, in that smaller circle of direct impact; but there were also questions to think through for those of us who were just there, one among ten thousand, thinking it was all fine. What made us so cheerfully overlook the clues to Mike’s behaviour that seemed plain and obvious with hindsight? If it was God on the move at Soul Survivor, as people were still saying it was, how could it have been God in public and not God in private? Could it be that the public aspect was good while the private aspect was cruelly manipulative, that the one was healthy and the other was not? Was it good for all those thousands of kids to have sat at Mike Pilavachi’s feet?

    And what was I going to do with all the worship songs that now sounded off-key? There were so many songs that came out of Soul Survivor about humility and brokenness, about kneeling at the foot of the cross, about decreasing and bowing down, and I couldn’t sing them any more, having learnt that the songwriters were not just humbling themselves but being humbled by their own mentor, pastor, and employer. Which led to a rather pressing question, if not the most weighty one I was asking: if I couldn’t face singing any worship songs any more, what on earth was I going to play for my own local congregation in the worship time that coming Sunday morning?

    That question—the question of what am I going to do now about all those surrender songs—was the starting point for writing a book called When the Music Fades: Power, Surrender and the Soul Survivor Generation. It is a book about and for all of us who have been confused—for anyone who has been fighting through a process of questioning charismatic evangelical spirituality. If I have needed to find space to think things through, there must be lots of other people out there, similarly perplexed. When the Music Fades is an attempt to provide space, for people who are still in church, people who are now out of church, and people who are somewhere in between.

    Soul Survivor is central to the book, but the book is not just about Soul Survivor. I had questions about charismatic practice, before 2023: about power dynamics, and coercion, and the temptation of putting on a show, and the difference between evangelism and bullying, and false promises, and relentless positivity, and how tiring it all is. The book is about all these things, and especially about navigating these things in teenagerhood, when you have barely learnt how to be a person yet, but you’re all the more eager to take on the duty of sharing Jesus with the world. The news about Soul Survivor, after all, was especially confronting because Soul Survivor was for teenagers. Soul Survivor had seemed so normal, so grounded, a well-balanced alternative to megachurch-style hype. Some charismatic leaders, I started to realise, I’d never trusted in the first place. I just had the habit of looking up to them, wanting their approval. I trusted Soul Survivor.

    For former Soul Survivor kids, I hope, When the Music Fades will be an opportunity to feel heard, even though it’s me doing the talking. Since it’s a book about being in the crowd, it claims that whoever was in the crowd matters. When we are talking about big churches and big movements, somehow the whole is less than the sum of its parts: the story of Soul Survivor, and whether or not Soul Survivor was a ‘God thing’, is not actually as interesting to me as the individual stories of every single person who ever attended Soul Survivor, with all the good things and bad things, the hard times, ordinary day-to-day and moments of hope. We went to Soul Survivor and believed we were supposed to be history makers and a revival generation and all that, and then, probably, we felt bad about not managing it, and then we had to figure out how to do basic adulthood, which is challenging enough.

    My biggest dream for the book is that those former history makers might feel recognised and valued. But I also hope, maybe, that a few church leaders might read it and realise that we took them seriously. We didn’t realise it was just a summer holiday, colourful shirts, a mountaintop. We took them at their word.

    And that had consequences, and it might be worth thinking about, and it might be worth doing things differently next time.

     

    When the Music Fades: Power, Surrender and the Soul Survivor Generation by Lucy Sixsmith (Canterbury Press, £16.99) is available from the Canterbury Press website and all good bookshops.

  • Respecting Trans People, Part 2: Towards a Working Group

    by Susannah Clark, a member of the Fellowship of the Love of God who has worked as a Prison Governor in charge of a national centre for sex offenders, as a teacher of teenagers for 25 years and, after transitioning 16 years ago, as a registered nurse

    As I explained in Part 1 of my review of trans crisis in this country – and the lived experience of trans people – we have been ‘monstered’ by the media, whose campaigns have often framed us as predators and perverts in the minds of the public; they have formed part of a coalition including very conservative Christians, a sub-section of feminists who seek our exclusion, and politicians who have ‘weaponised’ rare and exceptional incidents to brand trans people as ‘threat’ out of fear of their voters shifting to Reform UK. The outcome for trans people has been their imminent exclusion from areas of life where they had previously been accepted by most people, who took a live and let live view on a tiny minority who, sadly, now find themselves confronted on the street by thugs and haters who believe they have been given a mandate for their abuse.

    Sadly, the outcome of Living in Love and Faith (LLF) has not kept pace with this onslaught on trans people’s lives.

    By its own admission, in the last four years the Church of England has side-lined work on trans issues. This could have been expected to form an integral part of LLF’s work on – in the words of the subtitle of the LLF book – ‘identity, sexuality, relationships and marriage’. Instead, huge energy and time are being invested in what has been nearing an existential crisis over same-sex blessings and sexuality. But trans people now find themselves faced with an existential crisis of their own. The need for a lead from the Church and a serious programme to deliver pastoral care to trans people – and importantly, their families as well – is now urgent. The ‘trans’ element of LLF should no longer be left in limbo.

    Let me offer a review of the Church of England’s actions in the past decade.

    If we start with the background, trans people had long been accepted and accommodated in their lived identities and gender, for example by the Church’s willingness to ordain trans priests/ministers. We still have transgender clergy today.

    Further to this, in a more tolerant and generous time – July 2017 – General Synod overwhelmingly (over 75%) passed a motion recognising the need for transgender people to be welcomed and affirmed in churches.

    This was followed in December 2018 by Pastoral Guidance: ‘the House of Bishops commends the rite of Affirmation of Baptismal Faith as the central feature of any service to recognize liturgically a person’s gender transition’… They further stated: ‘It is appropriate to identify the preference of a transgender person in respect of their name and gendered (or other) pronouns… the terms ‘trans man’ (referring to someone who has undergone female-to-male transition) and ‘trans woman’ (male-to-female) are sometimes preferred by the individual concerned.’ This has of course now been called into question by the recent Supreme Court ruling (though that only referenced one specific law).

    The Church’s ‘Living in Love and Faith’ initiative began in 2017 and included a study of gender. People were invited to submit views and attend interviews. I myself was invited to an interview on 13 February 2019 with Eeva John, at that time leading the process. She was sensitive but, of course, opening up about one’s life trauma and journey to wholeness came at a cost. But trans people participated in this process in good faith.

    Meanwhile, in July 2019, an updated version of ‘Valuing All God’s Children’ (Church of England’s Guidance for Schools) was published, which reflected the Church’s acceptance of trans identities up to that time. For example, it stated that adolescence… ‘is a time when the school culture needs to offer a compassionate acceptance that again allows young people to ‘try on identities for size’, and explore who they are and how best to be themselves, to grow into self-congruence, whilst acknowledging that they may struggle and be confused along the way. Young adults need to be offered the freedom that was afforded to the child in nursery of the metaphorical dressing up box of trying on identities without assumption or judgement.’ All students should be helped to ‘understand the issues for those who feel they are trans/transgender and may be in the process of transition, understanding the impact that bullying has on them. It is important to teach pupils to understand the appropriate use of gender labels and names for trans people and to explore why deliberately calling someone the gender other than that which they choose to identify as is a form of bullying.’

    However, a counter-culture of ideologies started to emerge (and be promoted by a trans-hostile media): religious ideology, trans-exclusionary feminist ideology, and the ‘anti-woke’ ideology of the political right.

    The work of LLF on the pastoral care of trans people was still being presented as an integral part of its purposes. For example, on 11 May 2021, the Next Steps Group tasked to continue the LLF work reported: ‘The group moved on to discuss the possibility of further work on questions of gender identity and transition. The group acknowledged that this is a complicated area and a first step will be to gather resources to enable the Church of England to be better informed. The group reiterated its commitment to do this together with people most affected by these questions and to do so with the utmost compassion and grace, creating as brave and safe a space for everyone as possible.’

    By the following month, that Group proposed a Working Group on trans issues in the Church: ‘The question of how to take forward the proposal of a working group on gender identity and transition was discussed. The work will need to be undertaken knowledgeably and compassionately as it will involve inviting people to come together among whom there are deep and painful divisions. The Group reconfirmed its commitment to supporting those most affected by questions raised by the work.’ In July, they stated that ‘The group discussed the correspondence members had received regarding the proposed gender identity and transition work and agreed a response.’

    And where is that Working Group? So great was the pressure on Church leaders over the threats of schism caused by the same-sex issue, that it was put on hold.

    In the absence of action at the top, I initiated a very helpful interaction with a conservative ordained minister, who was gracious and decent. His well-known evangelical church was grappling with trans issues too. In collaboration (I also led a teaching session at the church) we developed a 40-point list of guidelines on the pastoral care of trans people (a diluted version can be seen here and was sent to the Next Steps Group on 6 April 2022).

    There was no reply.

    So on 25 May 2022, I reached out again to the LLF team, asking whether the group had been formed, and how many trans people were part of it. I noted ‘I am anxious that the latest review/process does not get overtaken by any individuals who attempt to de-construct trans identity, or subvert our lives, while I respect a place for a range of views.’

    This was the reply: ‘The further work on gender identity and transition is currently on ‘pause’ as the Next Steps Group works out by and with whom and how this will be taken forward. So no group has been formed, as yet, and no further work has taken place. It will, of course, be vital for any work to involve the full range of diversities in relation to lived experience and convictions and, as you know, that in itself is a significant challenge in the current climate. It will also be vital to do this in a way that seeks to be authentically pastoral and welcoming of all. There is much work to do in gaining the trust of trans people who have experienced the deep and personal pain of being at the receiving end of so much unhelpfully and unthoughtfully articulated ‘debate’ both inside and outside the church.’

    So that was official: The Working Group on trans issues, proposed the previous year, was ‘paused’.

    That was disappointing, firstly because people had opened and given themselves in good faith to the LLF process, and secondly because the climate in society for trans people was by then worsening.

    Since the trans element of LLF had been put on hold, it was saddening to read that the statement on 3 March 2023 by the Next Steps Group tasked with following through on LLF issues opened with the words: ‘The remit of the Next Steps group now having reached its conclusion…’

    In July 2024 (three years after a Working Group on trans issues had been proposed) I wrote to Bishop Martyn Snow, who had taken over as lead bishop on the LLF process: ‘The reason I am writing is that I am confused and unclear about the state of play on future guidance/teaching/pastoral care for trans people individually in the Church, and for church communities themselves, trying to do the right thing if they have trans people – or, importantly, their families – who come to churches. It seems, predictably and somewhat understandably that the LLF workgroups will be preoccupied by the issues around gay sexuality, but I should love to know what the programme is with regard to trans people and the Church. Is there a working group specifically tasked with addressing trans issues? Does it work to a timeline? Who heads it up?’

    He replied the next day, and I am grateful for his honesty: ‘The short answer is that, since I took on this role, we have been totally absorbed with the PLF and questions of marriage. And as you know, LLF was intended to be about so much more than this…  it is certainly the case that there is no working group on pastoral support for trans people.’

    I appreciated Martyn’s forthrightness, but although he proposed to find out the state of play and get back to me ‘in the next few weeks’, nothing happened.

    It is now nearly summer 2025, and the Working Group on the pastoral guidelines to address the pastoral needs of trans people in church communities remains on hold.

    However, there are growing tensions building up against various previous policies of the Church: for example, on the affirming use of pronouns in church schools. The Department of Education released non-statutory guidance in 2023 which stated: ‘It is expected that there will be very few occasions in which a school or college will be able to agree to a change of pronouns. On these rare occasions, no teacher or pupil should be compelled to use these preferred pronouns.’ That implies a state expectation that ‘birth’ pronouns should normally be used, not ones the student identifies with. That conflicted with the Church’s own 2016 guidance on affirming pronouns a student identifies with.

    In April 2025 the Church of England provided new and updated guidance for church schools addressing bullying (Part B:2.2). It still says schools must challenge discriminatory and dehumanising language and not allow deliberate misnaming. Schools are to avoid causing harm. However, there is ambiguity here in that this new guidance alludes (Footnote 81) to the use of a pronoun with which a child does not identify being potentially harmful. That much maintains the 2016 assertion that this could be seen as a form of bullying, but there is growing political pressure to close down chosen pronouns in most cases.

    At this point, I wrote yet again about the non-appearance of that Working Group that had been proposed four years ago.

    I understand this week, after yet further enquiry, that the LLF team are now passing on the handling of trans issues to Richard Sudworth, the director of the Church’s Faith and Public Life Team. The leads on LLF now tell me (26 April 2025): ‘The challenges we face in capacity and focus on current LLF work remain… in that me and my team are having to place almost our full focus on seeking fuller use of the PLF (alongside appropriate pastoral reassurance). However, I recognise that this is not an adequate situation given the pastoral needs and care for trans people that you rightly remind us of.’

    I appreciate the frankness, and I’ve been offered a meeting which I believe may take place this month. But to be plain, it’s not about me. I would rather follow my secluded life of prayer. However, I feel very badly for young trans people and all those trans people in vulnerable situations. While trans people have been left ‘on ice’ in the outworking of LLF, events in the country have moved on – as we’ve seen with the terrible ‘vilification’ of trans people by media, politicians, and those with antagonistic ideologies. There is urgent need for leadership from the Church because many in the trans population feel in crisis, and face growing hate on the street. The very identity of trans people has been called into question. This will impact Anglican provisions like schools, and will undoubtedly lead to calls from some for changes in official guidelines. I don’t believe gender identity issues can be left in limbo any longer. I know that some trans people I respect prefer to ‘let sleeping dogs lie’ but then the other parties – including some who oppose transition altogether – will push and push. We need re-affirmed guidance and respect for who we are, and that has got to involve a working group at last, if only to home in on advice over pastoral care (which impacts not only trans people but their families, and churches uncertain about how to meet the present developments).

    What is needed is not passive toleration of trans people, but positive leadership and guidelines on welcome, inclusion, and acceptance (just as Synod overwhelmingly affirmed in 2017). How best can trans people be cared for, protected from subversion of their identities and self-worth, and offered space to flourish and open up? Following the way of the Cross, how can we become the whole of who we really are, in Christ?

     

     

     

  • Sports, Wellbeing – and the Theology of the Body

    by Helen King with Revd Pete Wheeler

    On Tuesday, Synod is hearing a presentation followed by this motion:

     ‘That this Synod recognise the missional potential for churches of sport and wellbeing through its ability to transform the lives of people and communities.’

    I (Helen) am among the members of Synod least qualified to speak in this debate, my own experience of sport including deliberately spraining my own ankle in order to get out of school hockey. When I see images of energetic lively young people on the website for the Church of England’s National Sport and Wellbeing Project, I feel the urge to go into a corner with a book. And yet… I want to speak in this debate.

    That’s because, at a recent deanery synod meeting, I heard about St Peter’s Aylesbury. We are not a pilot diocese for the Sport and Wellbeing Project, and St Peter’s is part of our diocese’s Estates Ministry Network. It has recently experienced revitalisation, which started from a ‘breakfast church’ initiative about five years ago.

    But before I share what they are doing, I want to say that I am concerned by the way that the supporting document for the debate, GS2381, focuses more on ‘sports ministry’ than on wellbeing, talking about numbers, and ‘success’, even (paragraph 1 of the executive summary) how to “find the sweet spot of how this could contribute to a growing and outward facing church”. In the research appendix that forms the second part of GS2381, we have “strategic aims” and “buy-in” and “sustainable business development” and “standardised systems and processes around data collection to refine Sports and Wellbeing Ministry models and approaches” and yet more language of “success’.

    For St Peter’s, their interest in wellbeing and exercise comes from a different direction. It is not about ‘sport’; it’s part of a focus on “health, hope and wholeness through fun, faith and fitness”. That’s backed up not through a focus on numbers, but through their theology of the body. The vicar, Pete Wheeler, told me that “In Estates ministry we commit to walk alongside people who often live very chaotic lives in areas of high deprivation. Their discipleship pathway is never a straight line – so, it can’t be about ‘numbers’! (And related to this I also long for the CofE to recognise that churches that are struggling financially are not necessarily ‘failing’!).” He went on, “Our theology of the body is not only as a sacred space where God chooses to meet with us, but as something that is fully endorsed by God in the bodily incarnation, death and resurrection of Jesus. It is, therefore, anti-gnostic – declaring that our own bodies, how we look after them, and what we do with them, really matter to God and to how we live a ‘whole’ and fulfilled life.”

    There are two projects which they run which express this theology most fully.

    Revelation Fitness runs free classes for all abilities, including chair-based classes. Pete writes “Each weekly class has a Bible theme (usually part of a series) which is developed and explored as the class exercise together – sometimes circuit, high-intensity interval training, exercise to music, etc. (For example, our current Series is on Colossians 3: 12-17 with each week focusing on a different attribute Paul mentions). It ends with a cooldown that includes a time of reflection and prayer. The music we use is combination of secular and worship tracks. After the class there is opportunity for Prayer Ministry and healthy smoothies.”

    Last month, they offered a 21-day sugar fast, with daily Bible passages and encouragements, to “clear your mind, boost your health, and reset your cravings – while drawing you closer to God. Let’s break free from sugar’s grip and focus on what truly satisfies.” Pete observes, “We reject the false economy presented by organisations such as ‘Slimming World’ who talk about treats as ‘sins’ (and subtly perpetuate the unhealthy focus on body shape and a cycle of failure to change habits). Rather, Revelation Fitness focuses on our call to be ‘fit for life’; to understand our bodies and how to fuel them well by using healthy, simple, practical and spiritual disciplines; learning to move, use and ‘tune’ our bodies into the daily rhythms of our life and calling.”

    As for the second project, that’s Revelation Run. Pete writes that “The missional energy for Revelation Fitness has also led to ‘Revelation Run’ which helps local people to learn how to run, with prayer as an integral part (and which usually starts with walking!). We have also developed links with a local group called ‘Recovery Runners’ – a community of people recovering from addiction, burnout, bereavement, mental health, etc., which we refer people to often … we have seen people’s lives changed through encounters with Jesus; freedom for those with addictions developing new healthy habits and disciplines; and those who find new hope as they discover their bodies are not the enemy.”

    I find what Pete and his community are doing is an inspiration. So I would urge a reset from sports to wellbeing; from a focus on children and young people (the result of the Vision & Strategy) to adults; and something driven not by the rhetoric of management and ‘success’ measured by numbers, but based on a rich theology of the body. Reflecting on the paper being presented to Synod, Pete noted that there was no need to do “evangelism by stealth” using sport as the way in, because Revelation Fitness is already advertised as a faith-based activity, and this does not put people off; they want to explore spirituality and faith without suspicion.

    Pete suggests that we are in a “new shifting missional landscape. We have the opportunity to enable all apostles (not just ‘pioneers’!) to ‘take church to the people’, by running, for example, local community sports and wellbeing groups, that include spirituality / faith / prayer as an integral part. This is something that the new parents of the next 10 years will happily be a part of with their children!”

     

  • Rounding up Sheep or Assembling Cats? Governance in the United Reformed Church and the Church of England

    by Revd Chantal Noppen, elected member of General Synod and National Coordinator, Inclusive Church

    This summer, I had the privilege of attending the General Assembly of the United Reformed Church (URC) as an ecumenical representative. Coming directly from the Church of England’s General Synod, I couldn’t help but draw comparisons between the two experiences. This reflection offers a personal perspective on these two governance structures, focusing on their inclusivity, decision-making processes, and overall atmosphere. I have had a URC friend read it and their response has added some more comments, included in italics. I’d also like to make it clear that I love being on General Synod and value it immensely; these observations should not detract from that.

    Preparation and Initial Impressions

    Although I had limited prior knowledge of the URC, my background at the Cambridge Theological Federation introduced me to aspects of their worship and governance. I knew the URC had been more progressive in ordaining women, promoting lay leadership, and affirming LGBTQIA+ individuals, but I was curious about how their General Assembly would compare to the Church of England’s General Synod.

    Integration and Inclusivity

    If I were to sum up the URC’s General Assembly in one word, it would be ‘integration’. The URC makes a concerted effort to include diverse voices in their decision-making processes. This integration is evident in everything the assembly does, from the language used in worship to the application of technology and resources. The assembly had a noticeably more racially diverse, age-broad, and disability-aware approach than what I have observed elsewhere. Although there were no visible BSL interpreters, the effort to ensure inclusivity and accessibility was apparent. I have since learned that BSL signers have been provided in the past, but as feedback confirmed no-one was using them, it wasn’t economically sensible to continue. I am confident however that this expense would be willingly covered if the need arose.

    Unlike the Church of England, where youth engagement often feels more like a goal than a reality, the URC directly integrates young people into their assemblies. In the Church of England, we often talk about wanting to ‘hear the voice of young people’ and offer various schemes and projects focused on engaging them, but I’ve yet to be convinced that we are truly committed to this, as it would require a significant shift in the status quo and power dynamics. At the URC assembly, young people are fully present and just as involved and listened to as anyone else. They speak for themselves and are heard as confident, competent members of the assembly.

    More than any other aspect, this stayed with me as a valuable lesson for us in the Church of England, where changing the status quo often meets resistance. I hope the URC recognises the incredible resource they have in these young people and continues to invest in them generously.

    Decision-Making Processes

    One of the most striking differences between the two bodies is the decision-making process. At the URC Assembly, moderators invite members to use coloured cards to quickly gauge opinions on a topic. If there isn’t clear support, the topic is simply dropped. This method contrasts sharply with the Church of England’s lengthy debates over minor wording changes, which can often feel like filibustering. Additionally, the URC’s use of real-time updates on motion wording helps maintain clarity during discussions and is incredibly helpful from an accessibility point of view.

    It was fascinating to see and hear disagreements and alternative views being shared, considered, and decided upon in real time. The speed with which business and policy are addressed seemed far ahead of the CofE. However, the decisions themselves somehow felt a bit less weighty – perhaps because of the more informal feel.

    It would be naive to assume that the URC membership is homogeneous in its opinions; this is certainly not the case. However, there appears to be a strong sense of loyalty to the whole, especially when contrasted with the divisive rhetoric currently present in the Church of England. I later learned that when the topic of same-sex marriage, particularly regarding ministers, was raised, discussions reached an impasse – having already been rather vicious and damaging. Three opposing and distinct, yet valid, views were upheld. Rather than allowing this stalemate to cause further hurt, the URC imposed a seven-year moratorium on formal debates about the topic. This pause created space for personal conversations built on relationships, and when the topic was eventually revisited, it was able to be passed without adding further major trauma. As I understand it, the discussion in the 1990s was incredibly fraught and messy. It is also worth noting that the eventual conclusion of General Assembly was it should be a locally made decision, not one decided centrally. This is remarkably similar to what the CofE is trying to move towards around the introduction of PLF, that is being pushed back against as ‘too much’ from conservative wings.

    Reflecting on this, I can’t help but think of the Church of England’s experience with the Living in Love and Faith (LLF) resources, which were intended to foster open, respectful dialogue. Despite this opportunity, it feels as though we have fallen short. It’s not a simple matter, but one wonders how different things might be if the whole of the Church of England had actively engaged with these resources, focusing on listening and learning rather than defensiveness and division. Where might we be now if that had been the case?

    Leadership and Hierarchy

    Another notable difference is the URC’s approach to leadership roles. Unlike the Church of England, where positions such as bishops and archdeacons are permanent promotions, the URC appoints leaders for a fixed term before they return to regular ministry. This practice seems to reduce the emphasis on personal ambition and status, fostering a model of ministry more focused on service than career advancement.

    I learned that both the URC and the Methodist Church have broad memberships that include individuals with more evangelical or conservative views as well as those with more liberal perspectives. However, the influence of these groups differs from that in the Church of England. It often seems that substantially more resources and support are directed toward the conservative end of the spectrum in the CofE than in the middle. While I have no hard data to hand, it’s a widely acknowledged observation within the church community.

    Key Differences and Similarities

    Both the URC and the Church of England face similar challenges, such as resource allocation and ministerial support. However, the URC’s more collaborative and less hierarchical structure allows for a more unified approach to these issues. However, there was the same complaint about regional variances and unilateral diocesan policies leading to inconsistencies and a lack of equity.

    There is no electronic voting system at Assembly, so there is no way to track who has voted which way on specific items. I can see pros and cons to this, but it matches the overall emphasis on unity and shared investment in the URC. The Church of England is far more individually led and used to spotlighting specific voices and leaders. This is even demonstrated by the close-up camera shots of speakers with their names and numbers on the screen, as opposed to the topic being discussed. Apparently when electronic voting was tried it was a disaster. All critical votes that may be contentious are conducted by secret ballot, there were just none on this year’s agenda.

    The URC is substantially smaller and younger than the Church of England, which is reflected in a number of ways. I found the general atmosphere of pragmatic evolution to be quite inspirational, demonstrated in various initiatives, including the development of the iChurch resource to assist local churches with website development and database management—tasks that many churches struggle to manage internally.

    Personal Reflections

    My experience at the URC General Assembly was eye-opening. While I appreciate the Church of England’s structured approach and accountability mechanisms, I believe we could benefit from adopting some of the URC’s practices, especially those that foster unity and reduce unnecessary debate. However, the practice of offering the opportunity to ask clarifying questions of a motion and its report before it is debated was a simple but incredibly useful nuance. As our understanding and appreciation of neuro-divergent thinking grow, this approach would provide some much-needed clarity to discussions that I think all would benefit from.

    I found myself repeatedly impressed by the diversity of voices heard at General Assembly and the genuine lack of one or two people speaking at every possible opportunity. Speakers are not called by the chair; they simply head toward the mic when they wish to contribute. When a chair does offer gentle intervention, it seemed to be met with respect and acceptance, which is not always true of General Synod.

    However, during one discussion, an older gentleman made a rude, dismissive, and judgmental comment about the ordering of households and relationship statuses. I was saddened to hear it and surprised that it wasn’t challenged on the floor or from the podium. While I’ve heard worse or similar at Synod, I had come to expect better from my reformed peers, so that was rather disappointing. I know that I was not alone in this surprise and shock, and have been encouraged to hear specific pastoral support and follow-up was provided.

    Throughout General Assembly, times of worship and Bible study were woven more integrally than the bookend approach favoured at Synod. However, I think some of this is due to logistical differences and different expectations of worship. The theme of innovation that ran through the worship was especially interesting to consider from the perspective of a creatively minded Anglican who often operates ‘out of the box’, intentionally or otherwise. This often feels like an uncomfortable place to be and is a stark contrast to the reformed mindset that has evolution in its DNA and change written into its foundation.

    The final Bible study, led by Lisa Adejai from Christian Aid, captured much of what I had been reflecting on while also shifting my focus to the “now, next, and so then.” Her core message was an invitation to reimagine, reorder, and renew—a timely encouragement for someone like me, emerging from a challenging period of ministry.

    Lisa spoke passionately about the reordering of power that Jesus calls us to, urging us to broaden our horizons and reach out to the marginalized, challenging assumptions, and refusing to accept the status quo. She referenced a Ghanaian phrase meaning “go back and get it,” highlighting the importance of understanding our past to move forward effectively. As I consider the church’s ongoing discussions around racism, misogyny, homophobia, gender discrimination, and more, I’m struck by our struggle to truly acknowledge our mistakes and commit to doing better. Jesus’ commandment to love God, our neighbour, and ourselves remains central—if we truly lived by this love, our decisions and actions would bear more meaningful fruit.

    Lisa concluded by asking, “What is God calling you to reorder? What power are you being called to give away, share, or amplify in others? Where are you being called to reimagine?” These are questions worth sitting with in every church meeting, as we remain open to God’s guidance and transformation.

    Conclusion

    In case this all feels a bit ‘rose-tinted’, during more direct conversations, I heard some firsthand experiences of how the URC had fallen far short of their intentions and stated priorities around gender justice and pay/benefits provision. While both institutions can seek to silence dissenting voices, which often happen to be those of women, addressing this will perhaps happen more quickly in the smaller organisation. Attending Assembly also helped bring into focus the additional privilege and pressure we have as the state church. Do we consider this as well as we could, or do we prefer to use it as a prop and shield rather than an opportunity to catalyse society?

    I came away from General Assembly simultaneously in awe of certain aspects, like the integration of young people, the principle of taking a consensus and simply not discussing items that didn’t gather enough support, but also feeling a deep sense of relief that the system I “belong” to is a bit more clearly structured. I’m grateful for the transparency of our voting system and the possibility for there to be accountability and questions put to members over their voting decisions. I am heartened that, despite different approaches, both systems allow for a range of views to be presented but that no single person, or incredibly loud minority, can dictate, block or derail votes.

    I greatly valued the opportunity to gain insight into how another denomination is navigating contemporary issues. I think there is much we could learn from each other and I look forward to working more closely with reformed colleagues in the future.

  • Where is the Colour? The CEEC Commissioning of Overseers: A Theological and Ecclesiological Critique

    by Revd Dr Augustine Tanner-Ihm, Lead Minister of Saint Nicholas Church, Kingsway, Manchester

    The recent commissioning of overseers by the Church of England Evangelical Council (CEEC) necessitates a critical theological and ecclesiological examination. This decision appears to undermine both the doctrinal foundations of the Church of England and its commitment to inclusivity and diversity. This article will explore the theological implications, the postcolonial context, and the historical and current Church of England stances on diversity, arguing that the CEEC’s actions reflect a troubling trend of white elitism. Regardless of one’s position on the structures that the CEEC has chosen – personally, I disagree with them – the lack of racial awareness remains an important issue.

    Theological Foundations and Ecclesiological Implications

    The doctrine of the Church of England is grounded in the principles of inclusivity, universality, and the imago Dei—the belief that all humans are created in the image of God (Genesis 1:27). This foundational doctrine calls the Church to embrace and reflect the diversity of God’s creation. The Apostle Paul’s teaching in Galatians 3:28 underscores this inclusive vision: “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

    However, the CEEC’s recent commissioning of exclusively white overseers starkly contradicts these theological tenets. By failing to represent the rich diversity of the global Anglican Communion, the CEEC undermines the universality of the Church and perpetuates a form of ecclesiastical homogeneity that is theologically untenable.

    Postcolonial Critique and the Legacy of Colonialism

    A postcolonial analysis illuminates the CEEC’s recent actions as reminiscent of colonial practices that prioritize white, European leadership while marginalizing non-white voices. The insistence on “orthodox” bishops, purportedly to align with the theological stances of Black, Brown, and Asian Anglicans, is profoundly ironic, given that none of the appointed overseers come from these communities. Instead this practice perpetuates a colonialist framework where theological and ecclesiastical leadership is dominated by white elites, effectively silencing the diverse voices within the Anglican Communion.

    According to the CEEC, these are the first overseers to be commissioned, with more to follow. However, an article in Anglican Ink reveals that those to be commissioned later have already been chosen, a fact that raises concerns about inclusivity and transparency. Despite the presence of a few Global Majority Heritage (GMH) individuals on the CEEC Board of Trustees, this issue seems to have been overlooked. This could be due to a phenomenon some theologians describe as Theological Stockholm Syndrome, where marginalized individuals align with and support their oppressors’ frameworks and structures.

    This critique echoes the sentiment expressed by African American activist and writer Audre Lorde, who famously stated, “For the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change. And this fact is only threatening to those women who still define the master’s house as their only source of support” (Lorde, 1984). The trustees appear to have been co-opted by the very tools of colonialism rather than seeking the liberation of others.

    In other words, they have succumbed to a role reminiscent of the “Uncle Tom” figure in African American vernacular, serving the interests of the dominant group at the expense of their communities. This dynamic underscores the urgent need for a truly inclusive and representative ecclesiastical leadership within the Church of England.

    For some time now, evangelical Anglicans – when arguing about unity within the Anglican communion – have used disagreements on LGBTQIA+ inclusion to say the Church of England is ignoring the voices of the so-called “Global South”. It is persons with more of an inclusive/progressive view on sexuality and gender identity who have been called racist or who have been claimed by conservatives to be demonstrating a colonial way of thinking.  Yet the framework that was put together is a farce. As a black man who is gay and evangelical, it saddens me that my siblings in Christ would use such a horrible tactic.

    For instance, as a black American man who can trace my lineage directly to slavery, I feel extremely uncomfortable with the word “overseers”. As many Anglicans would know, overseers were used to keep the enslaved blacks in check, to make sure they would not follow their conscience and be moved by the Spirit for freedom. Overseers were harsh white men from a privileged class that would propagate violence and torture against people that looked like me. Overseers would be the very drivers of enslavement. But if it is claimed that this is simply a word from the Bible, then it is translating episkopos; but that means they are Bishops! Therefore, which one is it?

    Kwok Pui-lan’s postcolonial theological framework critiques the Western-centric dominance in ecclesiastical structures, advocating for a decolonized approach that genuinely incorporates and values the perspectives of Christians from the Global South. The CEEC’s actions, therefore, can be seen as a continuation of colonial patterns of exclusion and control, rather than a move towards true inclusivity and representation.

    Historical and Current Stances on Diversity

    Historically, the Church of England has struggled with issues of racial and cultural inclusion. The Lambeth Conference of 1988 recognized the need for the Church to repent of its complicity in racism and colonialism, calling for greater inclusivity within its structures. More recently, the “Lament to Action” report highlighted the persistent racial inequalities within the Church of England, urging systemic changes to address these injustices.

    Despite these acknowledgements and calls to action, the CEEC’s commissioning of an all-white overseer body demonstrates a significant lapse in the Church’s commitment to these goals. This move not only disregards the recommendations of the “Lament to Action” report but also undermines the Church’s public witness to racial justice and equality.

    White Elitism and Ecclesiastical Purity

    The theological justification for an all-white overseer body under the guise of maintaining orthodoxy is a manifestation of white elitism. This elitism privileges white theological perspectives and leadership, marginalizing the rich theological contributions of Black, Brown, and Asian Anglicans. Such a stance is antithetical to the inclusive vision of the Gospel and the ecclesiological commitment to the catholicity of the Church.

    The Church of England’s commitment to being a national church requires it to reflect the diversity of the nation it serves. The homogeneous composition of the CEEC overseers fails to embody this national and theological mandate, suggesting a retreat into a narrow, exclusionary vision of the Church that is more concerned with preserving white dominance than with embodying the inclusive love of Christ.

    Not Reflecting the Vision of a Younger and More Diverse Church

    Prominent theologian Paul Avis has consistently emphasized the importance of the Church being a community that embodies the diversity and unity of the body of Christ. The Church of England has been striving to be younger and more diverse, a theme central to its mission in contemporary society. This vision aims to ensure that the Church is relevant and reflective of the multifaceted nature of the population it serves, both in England and globally.

    The CEEC’s decision to commission an exclusively white group of overseers starkly contrasts with this goal too. It suggests a failure to engage with and integrate the younger, more diverse demographics that are vital for the Church’s future. The Church of England is attempting to move beyond its historical legacy of exclusion and to foster a community where all are represented and valued. By ignoring the vibrant, diverse voices within the Anglican Communion, the CEEC undermines this essential mission and risks alienating younger generations who seek a Church that is inclusive and representative of all God’s people.

    A Call to Action

    The commissioning of the CEEC overseers must therefore serve as a wake-up call for the Church of England. It is imperative that the Church actively works to dismantle structures of white elitism and to foster a genuinely inclusive leadership that reflects the diversity of the Anglican Communion. This requires not only appointing “overseers” from diverse racial and cultural backgrounds but also engaging in deep, systemic change to ensure that all voices are heard and valued. I disagree with my siblings in Christ, and yes, I call them siblings because even though I strongly disagree, I have love and respect for them as people who are co-heirs with Christ.

    Theological orthodoxy is not about maintaining a narrow, exclusionary vision of the Church. It is about embodying the fullness of the Gospel, which calls us to love, inclusivity, and justice. As we move forward, let us commit to a vision of the Church that truly reflects the diversity of God’s creation and the inclusive nature of the Gospel.

    References:

    1. CEEC Overseers Commissioned in London for the Church of England
    2. Bishop of Oxford Rejects the Alliance’s Call for a Third Province Should LLF be Introduced
    3. “Lament to Action” Report, Church of England, 2021.
    4. Kwok Pui-lan, Postcolonial Imagination and Feminist Theology, Westminster John Knox Press, 2005.
    5. The Lambeth Conference Reports, 1988.
    6. Paul Avis, The Identity of Anglicanism: Essentials of Anglican Ecclesiology, T&T Clark, 2008.
    7. Paul Avis, In Search of Authority: Anglican Theological Method from the Reformation to the Enlightenment, Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2014.

     

  • Exorcism, Conversion Therapy and Safeguarding: the Barnado’s Independent Investigation

    by Anon. 

    This morning, the BBC ran this story after the Diocese of Sheffield released two documents highly relevant to examining Church of England safeguarding practice, along with a statement from the Diocese, the Yorkshire Baptist Association and the trustees of Network Church Sheffield. The report relates to St Thomas Philadelphia Church, part of St Thomas Crookes, and so a descendant of the Nine O’Clock Service (NOS). St Thomas Philadelphia has subsequently operated as Network Church. There are similarities in that churches which appear to be ‘successful’ in terms of attracting young people and funding have been able to slip under the radar in worrying ways. The leader of NOS, Chris Brain, is also under investigation.

    The diocesan statement on St Thomas Philadelphia is available here.

    Part 1 – dated 30th November 2023 –  is the redacted Independent Investigation of St Thomas Philadelphia Church in respect of a complaint by MD.

    Part 2 – dated 26th February 2024 – is the redacted Independent Review of Safeguarding Arrangements in St Thomas Philadelphia Church.

    We understand that Part 1 investigates the circumstances around a complaint made by “MD” in 2019, alleging “MD was given an ultimatum to stop discussing his theological position on LGBTQ+ matters or he would be required to step down from the student leadership team”, that he “experienced prayer ministry, which he experienced as an exorcism, which attempted to change his sexual orientation from gay to straight”, that “he was forced to step down from volunteering on the student leadership team at the church after stating he was considering dating as a gay man”, and that he “was not welcomed at the church after his removal from the student leadership team.” The investigation found that each aspect of the complaint was Substantiated, and was therefore, Upheld.

    The report goes into detail around each element of the complaint, and also discusses the wider definition of a vulnerable adult, the responsibilities of trustees of charitable organisations, and the culture of this church as understood by the investigation team. The writers draw their conclusions from accessing documents, emails and records and from holding interviews with individuals connected to the church. The report provides an insight into the experiences of some LGBTQ+ people attempting to access church.

    A particularly pertinent line states: “…although individuals may have exchanged pleasantries with MD at times, the Church did not make MD feel welcome after he left the student team, resulting in him leaving the Church completely in 2016.”

    Part 2 includes 22 recommendations of ways in which the Church can strengthen their safeguarding. The learning from this review may form a helpful standard against which other churches’ and organisations’ safeguarding can be assessed and measured. The report reminds us: “Safe and healthy cultures do not, however, happen by accident, they are purposely developed and carefully nurtured, influenced to a significant extent by the actions and attitudes of senior leaders.”

    The Diocese of Sheffield released these reports with this apology: “We apologise unreservedly to the survivor for the distress this has caused and to anyone else similarly affected by such practices in the past.”

    Matthew Drapper, who has chosen to keep his initials within the report and to name himself as the survivor, had this to say: “In a letter to me, in 2019, the trustees of the Church denied there was any evidence these events occurred. In 2022, the organisation told the press, the church ‘does not engage in conversion therapy.’ We now know the Church did engage in conversion therapy, lied to cover it up and failed to investigate themselves. At every stage, I have had to fight for an independent review, against delay, coverup and a so-called safeguarding culture which resists external oversight. I’m grateful to every person who gave input to this investigation, at great personal cost. I have been deeply traumatised by the length of time it took to reach this outcome. I feel deeply for anyone who has experienced unsanctioned and unsafe exorcism practices. I am pleased to hear the apology and am especially glad it was addressed to the countless unnamed others who have been affected by these practices, over the years in Network Church Sheffield, and within wider Anglican and Baptist networks. I am hopeful this learning can be widely shared and that change is coming.”

    Chrissy Meleady MBE CEO, of Equalities and Human Rights U.K., who was Matthew’s Advocate through the challenge, said: “The investigation and its findings have vindicated Matthew, who was put through an exorcism for being a Gay man. He then had the reality of this experience vehemently denied as never happening. Matthew’s and others’ experiences of exorcism/conversion practices are recognised at last and an apology has been issued to him and the numerous others who were subjected to this form of Spiritual Abuse. It has been a  five year struggle to secure this justice for Matthew and others like him. It has not been without its cost.

    “We welcome the expressed commitment of the St Thomas Philadelphia Church and NCS, the Sheffield Diocese of the Church of England and the Yorkshire Baptist Church, to learn from this lessons. to ensure that nobody else is put through what Matthew was put through .

    “We welcome too the Diocese of Sheffield’s,  along with the wider Church of England’s expressed assertion that conversion therapy is unethical, potentially harmful and has no place in the modern world.

    “The UN Human Rights Committee has categorically told the U.K. to prohibit conversion practices. Its independent expert on sexual orientation and gender identity, Victor Madrigal-Borloz  has made it explicit that conversion practices are inherently discriminatory, that they are cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment, and that depending on the severity or physical or mental pain and suffering inflicted to the victim, they may amount to torture.”

    Philadelphia was a supposedly successful church. It’s part of St Thomas Crookes, and so a descendant of the Nine O’Clock Service.

  • Lovingly Hated

    By Anon., on behalf of the Oxford Safe Churches team

     

    The summer after my first year at university I listened to hours of sermons telling me I was going to hell.

    I was already painfully familiar with these words and hearing them from an Oxford church was by no means surprising. As is often the case, these accusations of ‘sexual immorality’ and ‘going against God’s will’ came from a church with a greeting sign at its doors: ‘All are welcome’.

    Lovingly hated. That’s how I like to refer to it. The way some of these “Christians” so completely oppose my queer identity and relationships. Yet, in the same breath, they will tell me I am loved and considered worthy by the same God they believe would send me to hell. Unless of course I renounce every aspect of this ‘deviant identity’ and mould my innermost being to fit into their idea of acceptable behaviour.

    Conversation therapy happens all the time in churches. It’s not always a dramatic exorcism, sometimes it’s disguised as ‘meeting for coffee’. And then the people you look up to and respect will reveal what they’ve believed from the very beginning: that there is no space for queer identity in their view of Christianity. That you need to renounce this  ‘same-sex attraction’ or, if you can’t, be forced to pursue a life of celibacy.

    The worst part about being judged and shamed by churches, is that it can happen when you least expect it. From the same people who drew you in with their free dinners and flashy events; in the same places you once felt safe and seen. You can be torn apart at a moment’s notice. This only happens because churches intentionally hide what they believe about LGBTQ+ identity and relationships in order to draw people in.

    “Okay, we get it, some churches don’t accept you… but why are you so focused on them? Can’t you just move on to other places?” I wish I could just move on, but no.  Firstly, their words and actions cut deep. Secondly, moving on leaves no trace of what these places actually believe and practice behind closed doors. Each year, freshers are sucked into churches that ‘welcome’ them and leave them vulnerable to spiritual abuse. Out of concern, because I would never want anyone to go through what I’ve seen happen to others, I felt an obligation to make everything public.

    Hence, I put in hours of work over my summer ‘break’ listening to those sermons over and over again. Each damnation was transcribed and carefully put together in a report to prove that certain Oxford churches are not in fact ‘loving and welcome to all’. But that this love has conditions. Even though it’s excruciatingly obvious to anyone who even remotely looks, or loves, like I do, I had to prove this was happening. I had to show freshers which churches could be seen as safe, and which have hidden beliefs to be wary of.

    Oxford Safe Churches. Pages and pages of testimonies, research, affiliations, references, sermons, and anything else that gives any indication of what an Oxford church believes about LGBTQ+ identity and relationships. There was a lot to put in that report. And it was awful.

    And what was the response from our Bishop of Oxford? The same Bishop so celebrated for his support of same-sex marriage in the Church of England in his 2022 booklet, Together in Love and Faith. Silence. Even the slightest acknowledgement of what we wrote would have been enough to know we have someone on our side. Yet, in the light of everything we reported, all the horrible testimonies, there was no response.

    In fact, in that booklet, the last we heard from Bishop Steven, he insists we don’t ‘assign blame to individual clergy or churches’ and should avoid the ‘emotive language of abuse’. But how can we possibly move past the shame and trauma that LGBTQ+ people have felt in the church without acknowledging it for what it is? The Oxford Safe Churches Project has now written to him. Clergy and churches who are responsible for spiritual abuse have the responsibility to repent of that. To take accountability and be transparent about what they believe. If not, it seems the Church of England cares more about protecting its image than protecting vulnerable people.

  • The Magic Money Tree for Work with Children and Young People: Good News?

    by Pete Ward, Professor of Practical Theology at Durham University

    In the last few years, the Church of England has developed a Vision Strategy for ministry and mission in the Church. Work among children and young people forms a major element in this strategy, and the announced aim to grow a younger Church includes the ambition to train 30,000 youth ministers in the next ten years. Of these, it is anticipated that 10% will be employed either part-time or full-time. To achieve this aim, tens of millions have been set aside and the first grants to pilot training projects have already been allocated.

    This is extraordinarily good news for those of us who have been working in this sector for the last 40 years. Yet the fact that this is happening should make us pause and think. This investment in youth ministry is not because of our amazing success record. Rather, the Church has been panicked into spending its historic resources because we have an ever-decreasing number of children and young people. Anecdotally, Churches who want to hire a full-time or part-time youth minister find recruitment extremely difficult because there are currently very few trained youth ministers out there. Hence the Church of England’s decision to develop a strategy to turn things around by training a whole new cohort of youth ministers, both voluntary and paid.

    I want to raise one simple question: what is the theological underpinning for what is now proposed? I think a significant part of the calling of the International Association for the Study of Youth Ministry is to reflect deeply on the experience of the Church and on the lives of young people, both those in the Church and those outside. Reflection, if it is to be worth anything, needs to be costly and to dig deep. It needs to ask awkward questions and we need to be honest with ourselves and with others. In particular, how have we got things wrong? Why have we not made the impact that previous funding hoped for?

    It is perfectly possible that, even where we have done things that have been filled with the work of God, such activities have also been the cause of our present problems. Even as we have seen amazing youth ministry stuff happen, we have also been causing our own downfall.

    In 2002 I wrote a book called Liquid Church (Paternoster Press). My central argument was that all denominations seem to see Church as a meeting; a gathering of people in the same room (sometimes, now, an online room), to do the same things. How might Christians instead engage with the spiritual life and practices that are outside the Church and see these as a missiological starting point for ministry? In my earlier book, Youthwork and the Mission of God (1997), I suggested that there were two approaches to youth ministry: one based on gathering young Christians and Church kids into groups that would be attractional, the other based on a more missional, relationship-based ministry that starts anywhere that young people are naturally present.

    In Translating the Message: The Missionary Impact on Culture (1989), the missiologist Lamin Sanneh distinguished complementary ways of doing mission: through diffusion and by means of translation. Translation sees the Church expressing itself in context, in the vernacular, and taking new forms. But diffusion, drawing on what feels familiar, assumes that Church as we know it is the right response, and in the Church of England it was this option that was seen as more attractive and more effective. Church Planting, investing millions of pounds in developing ‘Resource Churches’ on the model of HTB, is essentially a form of diffusion.

    The ‘Church Youth Group’ model draws on gathering a group of young people who are already connected to the Church with the expectation that they will draw in others. While there has been a growth in schools-based ministry and school chaplaincy, here again the base line of the work remains the Church Youth Group.

    But sticking with the Youth Group model meant the writing was on the wall. Young people are like butterflies. They are with us for a while but soon they move on because they grow up. This makes youth ministry a rather unstable environment; something that is a huge success at one point can, in a relatively short time, struggle to keep the doors open. The logic of the Church Youth Groups rests on a steady flow of young people coming primarily from Christian parents. Many of those in our youth groups do not go on to be adult members of the congregation. That means fewer young adults in the Church, and in turn it means fewer children and young people who might in turn form the basis of future youth groups.

    In the late 1990’s and into the 2000s, the language changed, but little else. While ‘relational youth ministry’ became the ‘in’ way of talking and everyone started to find ways to connect with schools or other places young people were to be found, this was used as an add-on to Church groups. The focus inevitably remained on Christian young people and those with whom they socialised.

    And it was worship that became the main event; the assumption was that we meet God through sung worship. Recent revelations at Soul Survivor, Hillsong and elsewhere have led many of us, not just in the youth ministry academic community, to start asking questions about these developments: how do we understand what has happened? The worship revolution powerfully reinforced the idea that a meeting in a large auditorium was the basis for mission, to the extent that this has now become the assumed theology of most youth ministry people in the UK.  In previous generations, groups were smaller, meeting in someone’s home; the main event was Bible study and prayer, perhaps with a few songs to get us all feeling good. The large worship event told us instead that, if we really wanted to meet God, we did it by singing these songs. If we were to doubt the power of worship, all we had to do was look around us at the way God was moving so amazingly in and through these kinds of events. There are now several generations of young Christian leaders who cannot imagine any other way of meeting God than through worship songs.

    The use of the word ‘Church’ to describe missional work among young people also brought problems. The Church of England reacted to missional innovation by developing a culture of surveillance. Check lists were constructed and dioceses were surveyed to decide when an activity was a Church and when it was not a Church. Church leaders began to develop a scepticism of certain kinds of missional project if they did not conform to what was expected of a ‘Church’. These developments together have meant that forms of missional and contextual ministry were often sidelined.

    And then there are the questions around training and employing youth ministers. As various dedicated courses and schemes have closed down, youth ministry training risks becoming too generic, without enough connection between those who are innovating on the ground and those who are being trained. Practitioners need to support, and learn from, each other. The Church has also failed to offer the kind of terms and conditions of employment that can sustain a career. Low pay (and the sense that clergy will always carry more status in the organisation) eroded the confidence of those we had trained and, after one or two jobs, most moved on.

    I do not believe that the prevailing pattern of youth ministry based on Church groups and worship events will deliver what is required. It may continue to give energy and life to some, but it is a model that has diminishing returns built into it. My own Diocese of Durham is a warning. If you have no children and young people already linked to the Church and your congregations are aging and declining, then a method that starts by gathering Christian young people is pointless. The larger worship events that we have seen – quite apart from concerns around abuse, money, and power – while they offer life to many, ultimately only serve to cover over the true extent of the problem.

    Our dominant existing model of Church Youth Groups and Worship Events makes too many assumptions about how young people meet with God, and shapes what that encounter should look like. Our practice carries a theology and speaks of what we understand God to be and how God might work. Contextualisation puts these assumed theological certainties into the mixer. Adopting a missional approach to youth ministry is effectively the pursuit of a new understanding of how God might be at work and indeed what the social, ethical, and personal implications of meeting God in new ways might be.

    The Church of England, as well as having large amounts of money to throw at these problems, has another very significant asset in its network of Church Schools. Several within the central organisation of the Church have started to grasp that, while Churches may have very few if any young people, there are thousands coming every day to the schools that are linked to the Church. This is clearly a wonderful situation and working out how to responsibly, and ethically, share faith and grow disciples, in and through the connection between Churches and Schools, represents the most exciting of prospects.

    But here too the model of what ‘Church’ is can be a danger. My own experience has been that many young people are open to experiencing faith and exploring spirituality but what they are less willing to do is join a Church. Where this problem has been overcome, reaching out to young people involves a significant reorientation of congregational life. In other words, contextualisation becomes a key factor in reshaping not simply faith among young people but also the wider life of the congregation. Where the Church is able and willing to change, I think there is hope.

    So there is a risk that this last hurrah for youth ministry may be a lost cause unless we are willing to spend some time reflecting upon the problems and shortcomings of everything that has been done to develop youth ministry in this country. I argue for more missional and contextual approaches to work with young people to be developed.

     

  • Keeping Students Safe: the Oxford LGBT Students Safe Churches Project

    by Chrissie Chevasutt, ‘Outreach and Development Worker with Transgender, Intersex and Non-binary People’, for St Columba’s Oxford. They have lived and worked in the city for 33 years, across a wide spectrum of churches, and in varied roles, thus having a unique perspective on church history and practices over that period.

    As part of my work in the city of Oxford, working with the transgender, Intersex, and non-binary community, I work alongside and with many LGBTQIA+ students. The stories I hear from them are constant, consistent, and repeated many times over. They experience spiritual abuse and religious trauma in some of the city’s churches. They are traumatised, and often suffer many secondary conditions; deep emotional, mental, social, relational, and spiritual wounding, some of which can work itself out in psychosomatic physical illness, chronic anxiety, and struggles with mental health.

    These same churches – who would describe themselves as ‘conservative’ – then add to the students’ pain by teaching that all their struggles are because they are gay, bi, trans, or queer. These churches and leaders refuse to accept that the judgement, condemnation, exclusion, and separation, sometimes even damnation, that flows from their lips, hearts and pulpits might be the cause. The consequence of their theology, preaching and teaching is to inflict guilt and shame upon many vulnerable young lives. From this, withdrawal and isolation are a common experience for students who are driven away from church and God.

    Self-loathing, self-hatred, despair, and shame can cause self-destructive behaviours and compulsions, almost impossible to control or contain, from eating disorders and self-harm, to suicidal ideation, suicide attempts and sadly, suicides.

    All this poison flows from the systematic homophobic theology that emerged from post-WWII USA. It’s a theology undergirded by the threat of hell.

    This theology is grounded in the claim that those who enjoy same-sex relationships are indulging sexual immorality, drawing on a Christian fundamentalist and biblical literalism that leads from 1 Corinthians 6 v9, through Ephesians 4 v17-19, 5 v3-5, to the eternal damnation of Revelation 21 v7-8.

    I was recently approached by a student who felt forced to leave a church where this theology was being preached. Even after 18 months in the church, they had no idea this was the theology of that church. They are in a same-sex relationship, their partner already badly wounded by a conservative evangelical church. They were told this church they’d started to attend was ‘youth friendly, progressive and liberal, welcoming everybody’.

    Confirming this, another three students have told me separately how they had shared within their student fellowship group meetings that they are gay, and in same-sex relationships. None of this appeared to trouble the group, or the student pastors, some of whom are paid church staff. On the contrary, they felt loved and affirmed by everyone present.

    (Most of the older members of the Christian LGBTQIA+ community in Oxford, however, know this church to have a long history of campaigning against LGBTQIA+ people’s dignity, equality, rights and freedom.)

    This pastoral policy of conservative evangelical churches marketing themselves as ‘Everybody Welcome’, in order to draw in as many students as possible, may make them ‘successful churches’ but only by hiding their homophobic theology and pastoral policy, a practice which is deceitful, disingenuous and dangerous, and potentially fatal to vulnerable young lives. We know that the incidence of self-harm, suicidal ideation and suicide attempts are far higher amongst LGBTQIA+ youth, and this increases again amongst LGBTQIA+ youth from Christian fundamentalist homes, families, churches, and faith backgrounds.

    It appears certain city churches now hold a policy of strict silence over their staff, of not saying anything about gender or sexuality that might go public. They realise that, if they are known to hold homophobic theology and pastoral policies, they will lose many of the students who flock through their doors.

    In September 2022, Bishop Steven published his proposal, outlining his theology for equal marriage: Together in Love and Faith. I read it and was impressed and blessed, until I got to page 46. The LGBTQIA+ Christian community has absolutely no doubts about the courage and compassion of Bishop Steven, in becoming the first bishop to put forward a proposal for same-sex marriage. We feel both indebted to him and want to protect him from the storm he faces from those clergy in his diocese who disagree.

    Many of us, however, have grave doubts about his commitment to protecting us, especially in the matter of our Safeguarding within his churches. There are doubts over his own history and proximity to colossal Safeguarding failures that have had tragic out-workings.

    On page 46, Bishop Steven repeatedly expresses extreme reluctance to place responsibility for the spiritual abuse of LGBTQIA+ people upon individual clergy or churches. This is a red flag waving right here, threatening effective Safeguarding of LGBTQIA+ people in his own Diocese.

    After being approached by the student who had felt forced to leave the ‘welcoming’ church that had been their spiritual home for the previous year and a half, on account of the attack upon their same-sex relationship, I began to research further. I discovered an audio recording of a 45-minute Sunday sermon on homosexuality.

    It is without a doubt the worst homophobic teaching I have heard in 43 years of church life. It is an appalling distortion and manipulation of history, theology, and psychology, used by a priest, to deliberately stigmatise, pathologize and demonise LGBTQIA+ people.

    This sermon was applauded by the church.

    This is exactly why the students’ Oxford Safe Churches Project had to happen. We have a Bishop who supposedly stands for us, but won’t stand with us and protect us; so, who will?

    Students who are driven away from church have nowhere to go. They know they will not get a fair hearing from the church’s Safeguarding Officers, many of whom will hold similar beliefs to the church’s leadership, and they have zero confidence in many of the denominational or Oxford Diocesan Safeguarding structures and current practices. The evil of Pilavachi in Soul Survivor, and the Church of England’s total failure in safeguarding young people there, has destroyed what little faith they may have had in any safeguarding process with which they might have otherwise engaged. They know they will most likely suffer further abuse and retraumatising in any internal safeguarding process they enter.

    In March 2022, I met with one of the university transgender reps, who represents both their college and the LGBT Student Society. They happened to be profoundly Christian, in faith and character. One of the subjects we wrestled with was the knowledge we both shared, of students getting badly damaged, and spiritually abused, in some of the city’s conservative churches. We both felt we could not call out the damaging churches, and that whoever dared to do so might be subjected to character assassination for attempting such a daunting task.

    When we met again at the beginning of this year, our hearts and minds had totally changed. Both of us had seen, in just that one year, too many students being wounded by homophobic, transphobic theology and pastoral practises. The suffering and pain in those lives, and even in our own, led us to conclude we could longer tolerate this happening on ‘our watch’.

    Together we wrote up a proposal for the Oxford University Student LGBT Society (of which, as a mature student in the city, I’m a member), to begin a project to signpost safe churches and flag up churches we knew where students were being broken.

    This was unanimously passed at the end of Easter term, and plans developed for the project.

    A team of students has laboured right through Summer term and the summer holidays, sending out questionnaires to 30 of the main city churches, collecting testimonies, researching churches’ history in archives online. From this they are collating all their information into a simple traffic-light-coded review, to assess which churches might be safe, and which are potentially damaging for queer students.

    Their passion, desire, and objective is to stop freshers getting sucked into churches who promise welcome, but inflict spiritual abuse. Most of them have been through this themselves, or seen friends whose student life in Oxford has suffered irreparable damage. They know this is a war over students’ lives and souls. They have paid a heavy price doing this research, which for most of them is triggering, traumatising and affects their mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical health. They are watched over by professionals in the university, clergy from various denominations and non-ordained pastoral workers like myself.

    The project has gone live in time for Freshers Fayre. Its bottom line is to save young lives; literally. They know their time in Oxford is short, but they are determined to leave a lasting legacy, that might see more churches becoming fully affirming at best, and at the least, force conservative churches to become honest, transparent and open about their core theology, pastoral policies and practises for their LGBTQIA+ potential members.

    They believe the Oxford Safe Churches Project has the power to achieve both those aims.