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Tag: Anglican Communion

  • The End of the Synod: Grieving for Love

    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

    I will admit that the defeat at this July’s General Synod meeting of the Private Member’s Motion on the lives and loves of LGBTQIA people hit me really hard.

    I think most of us who are hardened ‘campaigners’ – a term I dislike, because it is pejorative, othering, and suggests we are somehow out on a limb whereas we are simply calling for our basic dignity to be respected – are used to being treated poorly in the General Synod. Most of us are used to having to dust ourselves down, get back up, and get back on with it. Most of us are used to being held to higher standards, to turning the other cheek, to forgiving when our so-called shepherds let us down, repeatedly. If we weren’t, we wouldn’t keep at this soul-destroying slog through every obstacle that can possibly be put in the way of queer equality. Yet as the vote came in – laity and clergy in favour, bishops split, and overall, against – I felt, for the first time in a long while, a real sense of grief.

    I felt bereft and betrayed – I knew that people in that chamber, who had pledged apology and change, didn’t value us quite enough to say they loved us. I knew that – whatever the excuses – there were some bishops in that chamber who simply didn’t think we were worth it. There were some who had listened to their brother bishop, the ‘openly gay’ Bishop of Grantham, and said ‘we have no need of you’. We know there are some in the Synod chamber for whom compromise is a dirty word – we’ve seen that time and time again – but there were some who should have had our back, and didn’t. It hurt – a great deal.

    Aggrieved and let down is possibly the best way to describe LGBTQIA members of Synod as many of us ate lunch together that day. It is not a good place to be at the end of a bruising Synod. I do sometimes wonder whether those inside the chamber realise how their words and their actions are heard outside. The very same morning that we were unable to say anything positive about LGBTQIA people in this debate, the ridiculous Synod fringe on what is misleadingly called conversion ‘therapy’ took place – with a decision to allow it to go ahead made on the basis that nobody need attend if they didn’t want to (I did attend – it was unconvincing and sad, but – perhaps surprisingly – just incredibly boring). Most of us were pretty grossed out that this event would be allowed at all, yet the irony was not lost on me after the Synod debate: what was said in the chamber was not said in private in a fringe, but was very much public, very much heard by those outside. And, judging from many conversations in the wake of this car crash, it has done an awful lot of damage.

    One of the things I have become most interested in since getting more involved in the machinations of the church is the underlying psychological dynamics. I would say this, wouldn’t I, but we do love to dress up our decision-making and common life in theological vestments when good old sociology and psychology would do. The current behaviour of the House of Bishops is a good example. The overriding narrative – not one, I should say, that is owned by all members – is that ‘consensus’ is the key thing. It’s like a retreat to the pre-LLF days, where all bishops allegedly thought the same about everything, but couched in different terms (remember the 2017 Take Note debate, where they all voted the same way, except the Bishop of Coventry, who pushed the wrong button).

    There were a remarkable number of different ways to present this new way of inhabiting episcopacy. ‘We have a fragile consensus’, we were told, time and again, which meant that LLF had been ‘concluded well’ in February, and we mustn’t upend that now – dishonest in the extreme. The vapid and erroneous ‘focus of unity’ argument was there underneath the surface, even if nobody had the guts to pretend they believed in it this time. The Working Groups need to be ‘allowed to do their work’ and saying anything more at this stage would ruin that (not, of course, that the chair of the new working group had been asked, however much straight white men decided to speak for her). We are told that there would be difficulties in the Anglican Communion (whatever that is supposed to mean). There was a particularly egregious speech that suggested that the use of the word ‘legitimate’ might ruin everything (not having read, it appears, Section 7 of the LLF book which accepts seven different ways of reading the Bible), and other bizarre speeches suggesting that intimacy was all about sex (beautifully addressed by the final speech by the Bishop of Dover, suggesting we might, as a church, stop our obsession with sex whenever the word intimacy is used). Big beasts of the House stood up and tried to shut down further debate, and the majority of the House of Bishops voted for a wrecking amendment, which the rest of us saw off nicely. Consensus, it seems to me, is yet another word for doing nothing.

    Yet it was clear which way the debate was leaning and how the votes would fall, and it is hard to see the final vote as anything other than a key example of tactical stupidity. As every House accepted the Dalliston amendment – which simply stated facts about the current divisions in the church and synod about same-sex relationships, yet which also dared to suggest that the Synod ‘delights in the lives and ministries of LGBTQIA+ people in the Church of England’ – the final vote offered an opportunity for those outside the chamber to finally hear something positive about LGBTQIA people. Just imagine, if queer young people could have heard us say that we delight in them; if queer people in ministry could hear that we delighted in them. Just imagine if that is how we had ended the last five years of bruising debate. Yet ever able and willing to snatch defeat out of the jaws of victory, when it came to voting on the motion as amended, the House of Bishops said ‘no thanks’, and chose to sink the whole thing. This might have suited their ‘consensus’, but if they think anyone outside their echo chamber gives a fig about that, then they’re even more deluded than they appeared on the floor of the chamber. We got the message loud and clear – we don’t matter to them.

    The House, of course, has been there before – lest we forget that Take Note debate of 2017 which launched the whole LLF process, where the clergy quite rightly gave the House of Bishops a bloody nose for their offer of ‘same old, but with more smiling’. Yet, and this is why my initial grief has turned to a sense of committed and furious determination, there are key differences this time. Both laity and clergy voted for the motion, in bigger numbers than in any previous LLF debate. And, crucially, the House of Bishops is split. Almost enough of those who were present at Synod that day voted with us to get this thing over the line. The tide is turning, and whilst enough members of the House of Bishops wish to stick their fingers in their ears and pretend it’s not happening, it is. There is a clear direction of travel. And what a time to see a turning of the tide – as General Synod elections come over the horizon.

    Which is why we now have a job to do. It is essential – absolutely essential – that the General Synod be a little more reflective of the Church of England more widely. For years, well-funded, reactionary factions have played their politics hard and flooded the chamber of General Synod with their votes. No more of this. The General Synod might be tedious and tiresome, but it matters – in the next quinquennium we will be voting for new members of the Crown Nominations Commission (currently hugely disproportionately filled with conservative votes) and we will finally be debating whether diocesan Acting Bishops can vote in Synod. The new Working Group on Relationships, Sexuality and Gender will be bringing proposals to the General Synod that could finally end the discrimination faced by clergy in marriages to people of the same sex. And we will find, I imagine, that ‘consensus’ rather changes its spots when the General Synod becomes more decisively inclusive. There will be a chance for us to make concrete steps in the right direction, and to help create a church that truly loves, values, and delights in all its people.

    So, however frustrating, this is not all about bishops.  We do no good spending all our time pointing the fingers of blame, though let us remember the good Anglican polity of bishop-in-Synod, and hold them accountable. Almost half of them stood with us. Once we know who voted which way, we will see who our true allies and friends are – and we must encourage them. The ones who didn’t vote in favour, because they worshipped the idols of consensus or unity, will need to answer to those in their pastoral care, and ultimately to God: are we worth so little that preserving echo chamber consensus is more important? Yet ultimately it is about getting over the grief and channelling the anger and the frustration towards changing the way we are treated. It is even, dare I say, about trying to rise above that anger and striving for the good of the church – a church that is desperate to break free from the reactionary tendencies that have so imprisoned it these long years. A church that can be more what the church should be, by saying to each of its members ‘we have need of you’.

    The General Synod let us down last week. Now is the time to make sure that doesn’t happen again.

  • Be Kind

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • The Wholly Unnecessary Split in the Anglican Communion: A View from ‘Down Under’

    by Revd Dr Keith Mascord, a Canadian-born Australian. He is retired – most recently from managing the NSW multi-faith prison chaplaincy team. He is an Anglican priest assisting at St John’s Anglican Parish in Taree, in country NSW, and an academic who taught philosophy and pastoral theology at Moore Theological College in Sydney. He is an advocate, and a co-founder of the LGBTIQ+ support group – Equal Voices Australia. He traces his intellectual and spiritual journey in a now completed set of three books: A Restless Faith (2012), Faith without Fear (2016) and An Honest Faith (2025)

    It was a deeply disturbing moment when, on 16 October 2025, a communiqué was posted by Gafcon (the Global Anglican Futures movement) which declared, ‘The future has arrived.’ In what, effectively, was an attempted coup, the Anglican Communion – founded as a fellowship of independent dioceses in 1867 – was declared to have been overtaken by Gafcon. In its own words, ‘We have not left the Anglican Communion. We are [my emphasis] the Anglican Communion.’ ‘Gafcon is [now] leading the Global Anglican Communion.’

    These are audacious claims. The argument of the communiqué was that the formerly constituted Anglican Communion had ‘failed to uphold the doctrine and discipline of the Anglican Communion,’ and, as a result, its four instruments of communion (the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lambeth Conference, the Anglican Consultative Council, and the Primates Meeting) were being replaced by just one – the Bible.

    My discomfort with this news was heightened by discovering where this communiqué had been penned – in Sydney – and by whom. Though signed by Rwanda’s Archbishop Dr Laurent Mbanda, its wording was, I’m informed, a combined effort by a number of the movement’s leaders and ‘founding fathers’ including the former Archbishop of Sydney, Dr Peter Jensen. Peter was my Archbishop during his tenure. Before that, he was my employer, principal and colleague at Moore Theological College where I taught for fifteen years all up. I thus have more than a little interest in what is happening, along with a degree of insider/outsider perspective.

    Hermeneutics

    A few things stood out for me in the communique. The first was the critical role of hermeneutics, which is the science or art of interpretation. The communiqué cites the abandonment of the inerrant Scriptures as the reason for earlier calls for repentance, and for now withdrawing from communion with ‘revisionist’ Anglicans.

    The more I think about it, the more startled I am by this. When I was a student and, later, a lecturer at Moore, only some of the faculty subscribed to inerrancy, with most preferring infallibility or trustworthiness. Not all of the current faculty at Moore adhere to inerrancy. The same applies at the similarly conservative Ridley College in Melbourne.

    Some years ago, at a School of Theology at Moore College, a student publicly asked Archbishop Peter, ‘Don’t you think it is time we gave up on inerrancy?’ Peter’s reply: ‘No, we must not give up on it because of what it safeguards.’ It is a telling reply, which implies an acknowledgement of inerrancy’s weakness as a position. It certainly is that. On the one hand, inerrancy is an unprovable and un-Biblical faith position, especially in the absence of the Bible’s original documents (the autographs), if indeed there ever were such. On the other hand, inerrancy is easy enough to disprove. Anyone who has read and studied the Bible for any length of time, with even a little knowledge of Biblical scholarship, is likely to have encountered inaccuracies, contradictions, anachronisms, contrasting and revising theologies, remnants of polytheism, doubtful claims to authorship, and much more.

    Not so plain sense

    Exacerbating this hermeneutical hurdle is Gafcon’s insistence on a ‘plain sense’ reading of the Bible. The communique is insistent that the Holy Bible must be ‘translated, read, preached, taught and obeyed in its plain and canonical sense, respectful of the church’s historic and consensual reading.’ Neither the communiqué, nor the Jerusalem Declaration from which it draws, explains the meaning of these terms. With respect to a plain sense reading, one could well ask, ‘Whose plain sense reading?’ Is it the plain sense reading of an ancient reader, for example, someone well versed in the mythology of those days and of the Bible, and thus not likely to be differentiating between the mythical and the literal? Or is it what seems to be the plain sense to a 21st century reader influenced by modernist and, before that, Lutheran tendencies to read the Biblical stories as straightforwardly factual – including the Adam and Eve, Noah, Patriarchal, Exodus and Conquest stories, which we’ve good reason to believe are mythical and/or legendary.

    Returning to the notion of inerrancy, and yoking it to a plain sense approach, what might a Gafcon Anglican make of St Paul’s apparently plain sense understanding of Genesis 1-3, where an initially deathless and vegetarian creation (Gen 1:26, 27) has death introduced to it by the sins of Adam and Eve? If, as I surmise, ‘canonical’ has been added to ‘plain sense’ to prioritise the interpretation of Scripture by Scripture, this doesn’t help. In fact, it sharpens the conundrum. A plain sense, canonical reading of Romans 5:12-19, which also takes account of how these verses have been understood historically/consensually, flies in the face of current scientific understandings of human and animal origins.

    These are hard and important questions to ask of Gafcon’s hermeneutic. It is questions like these that sent me on a quest to find a hermeneutic that might more helpfully and honestly illuminate the Scriptures. In time, this led me to a hermeneutic, which perhaps surprisingly is not dissimilar to the Second Temple Judaic hermeneutic employed by Jesus and the authors of the New Testament, a way of appropriating Biblical texts, which, in principle, is responsive to new information and experience. I spell this out in detail in Faith without Fear (2016) and An Honest Faith (2025).

    Hard lessons still to be learnt

    Looking back, I am not aware of having been guilty of intellectual or moral failings in this long quest to find improved ways of reading and understanding the Bible. Nor do I think that increasing numbers of evangelical scholars have been irrational or immoral in employing or revising their hermeneutic to arrive at what they consider better conclusions about same-sex marriage. There is therefore no need, I believe, for repentance on their or my part.

    There is, however, more than enough reason for repentance for the two and more millennia-long misunderstanding and mistreatment of our precious LGBTIQ+ siblings. And, tellingly, it is hermeneutics or Biblical interpretation which has been a significant culprit in this abuse. Almost all of the great theologians of the church have, in one way or another, accepted what they took to be plainly taught in the Bible. They have allowed Scripture to interpret Scripture. They have come to similar, now historic, and apparently consensual conclusions. In doing this they have reasoned that women are inferior to men (Luther), that women are ‘defective and misbegotten’ (Aquinas), that they have been ‘born to obey’ and not to lead, with the leadership of women ‘an unnatural monstrosity’ (Calvin). They have, moreover, interpreted Leviticus and St Paul to imply that homosexuality condemns those who rebelliously choose it to be given over to passions that are satanic and to lives that are diabolic, such that they are worse than murderers (Chrysostom), with a vice believed to be ‘an un-paralleled enormity’ (Luther), so unnatural and so evil that they deserve to be banished ‘from all shelter of the church’ (Tertullian). And that is just a sampling of historic Christianity’s vitriol.

    Sadly, some of these ideas linger in dioceses aligned with Gafcon, with Sydney Anglicans still stubbornly restricting the ministry of women, and some African dioceses perpetuating views not dissimilar to those mentioned above. Happily, however, views like this are in retreat with most Anglicans, certainly here in Australia, and including Gafconites. They may not be willing to admit it, but their revised understandings have not been solely guided by their espoused hermeneutic. They have, in fact, had their readings and understandings modified by encounters with equally capable female leaders and preachers and by the thoroughly natural and healthy lives of our LGBTIQ+ fellow citizens. They’ve seen that the children of gay parents are doing as well psychologically and socially as children brought up more traditionally. They’ve witnessed the joy experienced by same sex couples when mutual love can come to full flowering in the blessing of marriage. They’ve seen the deep piety and strong faith of their LGBTIQ+ fellow Christians. They know that arguments against same-sex marriage are weakening, that Moses probably didn’t write Leviticus, that the exegesis of key Pauline passages is contested, that the hermeneutic they’ve relied upon ‘because of what it protects’ is fragile. They know all this, or should. And, deep down perhaps, they know or suspect that their ‘you must repent’ rhetoric is a log in their own eyes preventing them from seeing that it is they who need to repent, at the very least for the disrespect and hubris involved in failing to acknowledge the integrity, love and sincerity of those with whom they differ.

    In writing this article, I reached out to a number of the high profile leaders of the Gafcon movement, including the board of Gafcon-Australia, all but one of whom had taught, worked, or been trained at Moore Theological College. The exception was trained at Ridley. I sought to engage them with the ideas that are now expressed in this article. I was seeking to better understand their movement. Sadly, not one was willing to engage. Was it fear? Was it pride? Was I being cancelled? I don’t know. I will keep trying. My hope and prayer is that Gafcon’s attempted takeover will fail, that the resultant disunity, suspicion and silencing will cease, and that true and humble Christian fellowship will return, strengthened by a willingness to keep learning together.

     

     

  • What Does it Mean to be Anglican in a Post-colonial Communion?

    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

    A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to spend a few days in Atlanta, Georgia, with a remarkable group of people for a conference entitled ‘Living Postcolonial Anglicanism: Prospects for a Polycentric Anglican Communion’, hosted by Episcopal Divinity School, and run by two of the foremost postcolonial Anglican scholars, Kwok Pui-lan and Ian Douglas. It is not to overstate matters to say that it was one of the most remarkable events I have ever been to in any Anglican Communion space, not least because of who was – and who wasn’t – there, and what was – and wasn’t – central to discussion.

    This was a gathering that pulled no punches, and which was determined to move beyond the tired, hackneyed arguments around the Communion that have plagued Anglican debates for far too long. The voices in the room were far more female, far more indigenous, far less white, than at any discussion of the Anglican Communion I had ever been to before. Sex and gender were discussed but were anything but pivotal to conversations. Instead, what was at the heart of the gathering was a serious paying of attention to the things that continue, untested and unchallenged, to poison our common life as Anglicans – power, racism, colonialism and re-colonialism, empire, Englishness, lazy stereotyping, authority, money, and silenced voices. Central, too, was a determination to show that Anglicanism was no longer – and had not been for a long time – synonymous with Englishness (either ecclesiological or colonial), and that something new had been birthed, whether the Church of England wished to recognise it or not. And that something is not merely based on opposition or conflict – it is based on doing the work of decolonising and the recognition of a postcolonial reality.

    I should say that, as a white Englishman, I was in the minority – the serious minority. Indeed, at times I felt that I was being asked to justify why I should even be in the room, given the damage that the Church of England has done – and continues to do – to Communion relations. I understood that impulse, even if I felt somewhat conflicted about it. It was a strange experience being the ‘representative’ (unofficially, I should add, but certainly symbolically) of a church in which I frequently feel myself to be an outsider – frankly, in many Church of England spaces I feel like an intruder, an embarrassment, a queer aberration, and many queer people will know the feeling of being exiled that many of us carry around with us. It was uncomfortable then to have the tables turned, and at times I felt somewhat discomfited by the role I was playing in conversations and the way my words landed, with all the hidden context they carried.

    Yet being discomfited is a position that English Anglicans, particularly white men, need to get more acquainted with, if we are to play any useful part in the future of the Communion. So too is a commitment to intersectionality for those of us who remain beyond the bounds of the normative in the Church of England. This is particularly true in a church which offers courses in Anglicanism (both in England and more widely) in almost none of its theological colleges, despite claiming the role of ‘mother church’. Our arrogance is astonishing – yet so all-pervasive that we don’t notice it.

    It has always intrigued me that the Anglican Communion has an official office of representation at the United Nations. I have never really understood how there can be an Anglican Communion position on anything, really, given we are interdependent and autonomous churches in fellowship (of varying degrees) with one another. Yet this conference gave me some hope that there might be a different kind of Communion in the future, one able to tolerate polyphony and indeed embrace it, allowing voices to be heard in the corridors of power that might otherwise be excluded or marginalised.

    So much talk about the Anglican Communion in recent years has focused on shifting power – on re-colonising, establishing new loci of authority and power rather than questioning the whole premise of power itself. Of course, it’s easy as someone who is part of a church which has historically held that power to call for radical divestment of it rather than its assumption by another location, yet I do think that is the only possible future for Anglicanism – whatever ‘Anglicanism’ might be. Our attempts at structural reform have remained endlessly Canterbury-focused, and hence both Church of England-infused and ultimately centralising. Moving to a rotating presidency of the Anglican Consultative Council, for example, is hardly a radical move, and nor is any change to the Communion that leaves a White English bishop as its spiritual head. It does little for the Anglican Communion, and it does little for the Church of England either – not least any attempt to understand its role and identity in twenty-first century secular England.

    Yet the Global South Fellowship of Anglicans and GAFCON have hardly offered change in any serious philosophical way – instead it’s just been a shifting of power from A to B. It’s a failure of ecclesiology, and it’s a failure to really interrogate the colonial mindset that finds new formulations in the contemporary era, including in the queerphobic and racist narrative that suggests that the ‘Global South’ (an unhelpful term, as discussed here by Phil Groves, one whose vagueness is the key to its utility in abstract discussion) has a single and entirely negative view of LGBTQIA people.

    The way that the Church of England should engage with questions around same-sex relationships in the Anglican Communion remains complicated by the refusal to squarely face the colonial history. In any engagement with other provinces on sexual or gender justice, the living spectre of colonialism remains, meaning that the Archbishop of Canterbury – and by extension, English bishops – cannot speak to other bishops of the Communion on a level playing field, because we have refused to address the power imbalances that still exist. This is our fault – and it is entirely within our grasp to tackle it. We just choose not to, shifting chairs around on the Titanic instead. That there were queer, Black Anglican voices in the room from the ‘Global South’, for whom navigating these realities was anything but abstract, should not have been a surprising fact – but it was, given the way the powers-that-be in the Communion so often self-select and silence.

    English Anglicans have a lot to learn from our Communion friends, if only we would listen. I can attest to the fact that that listening can sometimes be hard, and can challenge our ecclesiological, missional, and ministerial assumptions. It is going to require us to change. Yet if we are not willing to listen, the lip service we pay to the Communion – however much we tinker with the structures – will do very little to change how and who we are. We can stick our fingers in our ears and pretend that Anglicanism is the same as the Church of England, and that we have nothing to learn from a global movement that is no longer ours to control – but we will deservedly be laughed out of town.

    There will always, I think, be a tension between unity and diversity in the Anglican Communion. There will also always be a tension in the ecclesiology, theology, and self-understandings of a global Communion. From my experience of this conference, it is polycentrism and a commitment to postcolonial living which offer a rich, enticing, fruitful way forward. Recognising the other as Anglican is the first step. Whether we are willing to embrace this shift in our mindset in England is, of course, another matter – whether we can afford not to is an open question.

     

  • A Response to “The Doctrine of Marriage and the Prayers of Love and Faith: Texts and Contexts: a Report of the Faith and Order Commission” (GS Misc 1430)

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

    This was the second report which briefed the House of Bishops before they made their decisions in October about Living in Love and Faith (LLF). This is another extraordinary document, with which I imagine many of the members of the Faith and Order Commission will not have been entirely content. At least, I hope they would not be.

    Its purpose is to determine ‘whether and how the Church’s public use of these prayers coheres with, realises new boundaries for, or departs from its established teaching on marriage’ (§1). It does not do this, as we shall see. But it does present a case, or perhaps more accurately talk around the assumption, that the Prayers of Love and Faith (PLF) (let alone equal marriage) would constitute a departure from the traditional doctrine of marriage. It does this around four general themes:

    1. public perception and theological significance of the PLF;
    2. ecclesial condoning of “life choices”;
    3. disagreement and liturgical diversity;
    4. the Church’s traditional teaching on marriage.

    1) Public Perception and Theological Significance

    The primary concern is not theological. It is about what we are seen to do. In §5 a distinction is established, between private prayers and public prayers, which is ‘not merely practical but theologically significant’. What is meant by this is that private prayers are less likely to be misinterpreted as condoning or blessing something which we actually think is bad and do not think should be blessed or condoned. Whereas, ‘In the setting of public worship, it is impossible to escape the reality that the use of the PLF is liable to be received, however unintentionally, as ecclesial endorsement of the relationship being blessed’ (§14, cf.§24). The primary problem is public perception, that people should misunderstand us and think we are blessing and approve of queer people, when in fact we are not and do not. This is not in fact a theological consideration, but a practical one of public perception.

    The argument gets stranger. A distinction is drawn between regular services and occasional ones. ‘Regular services,’ we are told, ‘carry a high presumption of normativity and significance.’ Yet ‘Bespoke services,… by their out-of-the-ordinary nature will also suggest a high level of normativity’ (§15). So it is hard to see what distinction is being drawn here.

    The essential point of the first section of the Report is that, whatever liturgical provision is offered for same-sex couples, it will be interpreted as a marriage by people at those services and by the Anglican Communion and wider society (§§26,28). Although ‘Many would maintain that audience perception does not in itself determine doctrine’ (§32), ‘The weight of audience reception, then, may tip the balance from pastoral care into apparent [doctrinal] contradiction’ (§30). And we are reminded twice that ‘lex orandi, lex credendi’ (§§29,34). In other words, liturgy should mean what we say it does, but it doesn’t, and in fact it does mean what people attending the liturgy or talking about it on ‘social media responses or press headlines’ think it does (§32). This argument is repeated in §§66-68 in the context of a discussion of the importance of published liturgy.

    There is much concern also in §27 about the clergy and lay leaders who will be affected by the ‘symbolic resonance and precedent of a prominent public LLF service’. It is not made clear what that means. It is a strangely evasive paragraph. Presumably a gay bishop and their partner using the prayers. But, of course, that would never happen, would it.

    2) Ecclesial Condoning of “Life Choices”

    After concerns about whether we might be seen to be blessing same-sex relationships, next is the question of whether the Church is condoning same-sex couples and their ‘life choice/s’. This overtly homophobic phrase of long standing is used at both §11 and §14.  We are told that there is agreement ‘that God’s blessing may be prayed for over persons and intentions without necessarily affirming all aspects of a relationship or life choice’ (§11). It is apparently entirely possible to bless a same-sex couple without blessing in any way any part of their life together. If this seems strange, we are reassured that, ‘The Church has long provided public prayers in circumstances of moral or pastoral ambiguity’ (§19). Here, you might be forgiven for thinking that a door was maybe being opened to permitting a liturgy which also allowed for moral ambiguity (however much it feels unreal to suggest that this aspect of my life and identity might be any more morally ambiguous than a straight person’s). But that door is rapidly slammed shut.

    The Report gives short paragraphs to deal with the supposed arguments of unidentified and unreferenced ‘supporters of the PLF’ in a way which suggests that they/we may not have been in the room at the time. These supporters ‘point to analogous liturgical acts which mark without enacting and bless without endorsing every moral dimension of the context’, like civic services and memorials (§33). If we bless at civic services and memorials without being seen to condone every aspect of what we are blessing, can we do the same here? Computer says no. ‘In these contexts, there are some fairly set cultural expectations within which the Church can navigate at such commemorative events’ (§33). Apparently, we are meant to understand that that could not possibly also be true for using the PLF, although that is not worked out for us. Indeed, so prone to confusion with marriage must the PLF be that clear differentiation from marriage would require ‘clarity of liturgical differentiation’ and ‘the willingness of Church leaders to undertake sustained theological communication’ (§35). Now, I enjoy a public lecture as much as the next theologian, but even I think that would be overkill before a church service.

    Apparently, just telling people that it isn’t a legal wedding, as clergy I know have done who have used PLF so far, would still leave everyone confused. I am unconvinced. LGBTQIA+ people know that the Church is ambivalent towards us, and if we don’t know anything we assume that the Church is actively hostile. But these arguments are rehearsed again in §§81-83 and §86, just to make sure you heard them if you happened to be reading quickly before a meeting. The “theological question” is then summed up in terms which appear entirely out of the blue, unconnected as they are to the argument in the rest of the Report:

    Theologically, the question posed by the public use of the PLF is not primarily about whether God’s grace is available to all. It is about how the Church responds lovingly to the hope of those who come before God and desire to show forth their praise in thanksgiving for what God has given them. (§88)

    Is it? It hasn’t felt like that’s the theological question in this theological briefing. There’s nothing about the hope of those who come before God to give thanks to God. Perhaps they left that bit out. And if we are morally ambiguous and not-to-be-condoned then it is hard in any case to see what there is to give thanks for to God in Church. Our evil ways? What a strange thing to say.

    3) Disagreement and Liturgical Diversity

    The Report deals in some depth with how liturgical diversity has been handled in the Church of England in the past. The liturgical text is not a ‘narrow prescription’ but rather ‘a framework capable of bearing diverse theological interpretations’ (§42). This is presented as maybe a good thing, though in that section on how the public received liturgy it seemed to be a bad thing. There is a delightfully idealistic statement that Canons A5 and B5 ‘protect the liturgy from becoming an instrument of theological partisanship and ensure its function as a shared act of worship grounded in common faith’ (§43). Perhaps the authors are wilfully unaware of the many parishes and network churches in the Church of England which never or almost never use authorised liturgy, even if technically they perhaps do something which could be defended as a Service of the Word. The Catholicisation of the liturgy in Common Worship has not been accepted throughout the Church of England, and A5 and B5 have not ensured liturgical unity. Why would we expect them to now? Comments commending the ‘structured plurality’ of ‘theological sensibilities and liturgical styles’ in the deployment of different Eucharistic prayers (§45) and reminding us that prayers are not ‘neutral containers into which new meanings may simply be poured’ (§47) do not accord with the reality of the breadth of theological positions on the eucharist which are now accommodated by Common Worship’s diversity of prayers (if Common Worship or the Book of Common Prayer are used at all in a parish or network church).

    There is then a rather confusing but impressive argument about the Ritual Controversy and the tension between ‘prescription, rubric, and enactment’ (§§50-57). It seems to be strongly implied that, unlike other times when there have been debates and movements for change, we are somehow walking into this without proper discernment. But if the gruelling process of LLF which has lasted for the entirety of my training and ordained ministry was not discernment, I don’t know what discernment would look like.

    Suddenly the Report raises the tone, almost comically, warning us:

    Episcopal guidance becomes critical: without clear episcopal teaching and supervision, the national coherence of liturgical practice – and the doctrinal witness it sustains – may be compromised. (§60)

    It is precisely in the act of translating these prayers into public worship that the theological and doctrinal stakes become most acute. (§85)

    I think that we are intended to hear the warning that the national coherence of liturgical practice may be compromised with the same concern as a warning that the hull of our submarine might be compromised. However, this is not how it lands. It is hard to get upset about the stable door needing shutting when the horse is galloping gaily away over the horizon.

    And the Report is quite direct that this is in fact the reality:

    The Church’s embrace of liturgical diversity has hitherto been sustained by theological agreement on the central matters of faith. Where disagreement has existed – on baptism, the Eucharist, or the nature of ordination – it has generally been held within a framework of authorised texts and common structures. (§63)

    This is an extraordinary admission, given the picture presented that the PLF risked tearing up a unified doctrinal-liturgical fabric. In fact, on minor and unimportant issues, not at all central in any way, like baptism, the Eucharist or Holy Orders, we already disagree. And that is apparently fine. However, we are reminded, lest again a door towards living with disagreement be opened to us, that:

    If liturgical practice is allowed to diverge from doctrinal principle, then the Church’s claim to be a confessing body – one that worships according to what it believes may be placed in jeopardy. (§64)

    Jeopardy. Well, as much as I would like everyone to be of one mind, the Report has already said that disagreement and divergence has happened over central issues, and the Church is still one body with one head, however many times we have disagreed, done different things, or even gone our separate ways. This just reads strangely, along with the warning that suddenly liturgical difference is something about which we should now be terrified into inaction, now that LGBTQIA+ people are involved. This aspect of the report reads like an attempt to create panic where no panic is necessary. Or, if it was necessary, it was probably necessary over the past 40 years, when our present liturgical divergence was taking root.

    (4) The Church’s Traditional Teaching on Marriage

    Do you remember that the purpose of this Report was meant to be to work out whether the PLF departed from the Church of England’s doctrine of marriage? You could be forgiven for having forgotten, having worked through all of this. The so-called “traditional doctrine of marriage” is first stated at §38, though this is only to establish how much this conflicts with the PLF which ‘suggests at least a degree of ecclesial affirmation of the relationship’ (§37). That the authors believe that the PLF constitute a departure from the “traditional doctrine of marriage” is not explored, only the implications of this finding.

    The unchallenged assumption that the unchanging doctrine of marriage in the Church of England is and has always been that it be between one man and one woman for life runs throughout the Report. At §22 and in footnote 9, a reference is made to GS Misc 1407, which was the Episcopal Reference Group’s paper on marriage and its accompanying compendium of sources. The compendium is interesting in that it gives a useful overview of the ways in which the Church of England’s doctrine of marriage and human sexuality has changed a lot, even as the Church has professed not to change our teaching or doctrine, only our pastoral practice. This change is now normal.

    We do not actually believe (as a Church) that marriage is between one man and one woman, or if we do we certainly have not believed that unchangingly or traditionally. The Lambeth Conferences of 1888 and 1988 came to exactly opposing conclusions about polygamy. We also do not actually believe (as a Church) that marriage is for life, given that remarriage of divorcees is now routine in the Church of England, and not reserved to the ‘exceptional circumstances’ envisaged by Marriage in the Church After Divorce (2003). It now seems only in really exceptional circumstances that marriage of heterosexual couples after divorce is ever denied.

    I certainly have never heard of public penance being done by heterosexual divorcees to make clear that the Church does not condone their remarriage before their service of thanksgiving. But the Report uses divorce as an example of another ‘morally ambiguous’ situation which the church does not bless (§19). It is made clear in the liturgy, apparently, that what is offered to divorcees is not a blessing. But I have never known that service to be referred to in any terms other than as a ‘wedding blessing’.

    Conclusion

    This Report is frustrating, and disturbing. It presents the PLF as something of a worst-case scenario, with the potential to detonate the hitherto integral liturgical unity of the Church of England. However, it is not balanced. It is not theologically consistent. And its arguments are at times obfuscatory and self-referential. It does not evaluate whether the PLF are consistent with the Church of England’s doctrine of marriage(s). But it does make it appear as fait accompli that the PLF are inconsistent in a way that suggests that the House of Bishops has no freedom to exercise their episcopal prerogative to authorise them. As such, this was a confusing and at times needlessly offensive Report to read.

  • Winded After the Death of LLF

    by the Very Revd David Monteith, Dean of Canterbury

    Much metaphorical ink has already been spilt on the announcement from the House of Bishops of the death of Living in Love and Faith (LLF).  These reflections add nothing to that discourse but are an attempt to articulate something of what this announcement does to the likes of me as a person.  I had intellectually concluded months ago that LLF was terminally ill, but the actual death notice has a far deeper impact.

    Firstly, the document was issued about a process not about people.  It wasn’t in any way a pastoral letter to the church. I used to mark draft pastoral letters on ordinand selection conferences.  This would not have cut muster.  The same depersonalising dynamics have gone on at nearly every stage of this process.  This just doesn’t upset one or two people as Archbishop Stephen suggested. This is gut wrenching and hurtful for those of us most impacted. It seems there is need to return to a basic course in pastoral care.

    Secondly, this multiplies our shame which so many of us have and still experience as LGBT+ people in our families, churches and neighbourhoods. Dealing with internalised homophobia is often a life’s work for many of us, with the kindly welcome and acceptance by our Christian communities often being a key part of that healing. I found my life and heart constrict as I received this news once again; being told loudly and clearly that our minority lives and loves must remain marginal, hidden and uncatered-for like a vegetarian in 1980s France.

    Thirdly, I am asked to carry the public shame of this as a priest and in my case as the Dean of Canterbury.  Images of our cathedral accompany the press stories of ‘bishops do U-turns on gay blessing’ headlines. No matter what I do or say or no matter how I care or try to love others here, the iconography is clear: that LGBT+ people are never fully welcome here.  I am embarrassed and feel a deep sense of personal moral injury without even any remaining left-over crumbs to offer.

    Fourthly, the social media storms of recent days about our graffiti exhibition so often focussed on the fact that we worked with marginalised communities. This means I was ‘woke’ and what else was to be expected since I was in a gay relationship.  These vulnerable young people asked far from marginal questions; they were those all of us might ask. The haters piled in with force and now they have even more reason to pile in again. What could I say when these young folks asked me if the church excluded them? What could I honestly say?

    Fifthly, I realise that all this is so niche and of none or little concern to many people in the church, unlike for those in the wider world who mostly do not comprehend why love does not mean love.  None of my clergy colleagues have enquired as to how I am doing.  No one from the bishop’s staff on which I sit have said a word. None have even alluded to noticing that the bishops had issued their conclusions. Nothing.  We are invisible despite being present and our cares and concerns are best kept to our own little minority lives.

    Sixthly, this invisibility intensifies all the other experiences of invisibility. For example, when giving a talk and the last part of my biography is omitted; when a bishop asked me to make sure my partner was not around when certain clergy visited; when as a new Dean I didn’t get invitations from the county set because they didn’t want to invite my partner but were too polite to want to enact a social snub so didn’t invite me either. Being told directly never to mention my sexuality when dealing with visiting bishops from the Communion unless they brought it up, because many would see me as possessed. Talk about making me disappear. So many active processes, not just passive assumptions.

    Seventhly, there is little likelihood of anything improving and every likelihood of things getting much worse for LGBT+ people.  Many agree that it is now far harder for us in the church than it was 30+ years ago. The tide is turning in the world with gains in equality now being questioned and many, including me, are fearful that what we see with far-right parties elsewhere, we may see here too. From early in ministry, I learnt to respect bishops but not to trust them.  I couldn’t begin to make a list of the broken promises and quiet assurances that ‘all will be well’. When the chips are down for the church, both the institution and her leaders find us an easy victim to hurt in playing out politics of so-called normality. Why else was my sexuality highlighted when I was trying to uphold safeguarding during the departure of the last archbishop?  I don’t think we can trust the church to defend us if such a terrible day came. We would not justify care.

    Eighthly, I have bent over backwards over the years to be gracious and kind, to not walk away from the table, to become vulnerable in sharing my self in conversations and dialogue.  I have listened to those of a conservative view with grace.  I have watched them behave despicably in meetings, soaking up their violence against me and mine and so often with an annoying smile. Following Archbishop Rowan’s insight, I remember that unity is the quest which keeps on asking ‘who is not here?’ rather than ‘you do or do not belong’.  But it is exhausting and sapping of limited energies. Non-reciprocation of generosity breaks the relationship and yet apparently it is me bringing disunity to the church?

    Ninthly, many of us simply slog our guts out day in day out. This news has winded me and made me see that no significant change is likely in my life span. The sense of being an ‘alien in the household of God’ grows. As a Dean I spend a lot of energy on taking care not to demoralise our teams, despite the challenges, and to look forward hopefully.  There is no hope for significant change in the C of E with respect to LGBT+ people yet many of us are stuck having given our life to this ministry yet not being able to afford to retire nor having the heart to abandon our sense of calling.  Pay us all off to get rid of us and I may just rethink, if that is really where you want to head! Why, if you really do think that we are living without true repentance and are unworthy of blessings, do you not just get rid of us as that is the conclusion of the logic now received in this settled view ?

    Tenthly and finally, this is akin to a bereavement with all the usual feelings and thoughts.  I have no idea what to grieve well looks like in this situation. Of course, I can rely on the church and the bishops not to provide me with any assistance on that. In one theory of bereavement, key to recovery is to invest in the new future beyond the loss. The problem for me is that no new future is articulated in any way for LGBT+ people.  That which was perhaps previously imagined is killed off. The hollow words of apology never came to anything. Micro aggressions and visceral fear and anger continue to be experienced by us. The new Christian Inclusion is but fantasy. Apparently, as the bullies of old told me in school, I am to take it on the chin ‘like a man’ (clearly a heterosexual one) and just let these acts of violence and harm keep on coming.

    Perhaps the only lasting hope might be another victim who also had to take it – that is about all that remains.

     

  • Representation and Celebration

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

    A few months ago, I was infuriated by commentators assuming that the representatives on the Crown Nominations Commission from the Anglican Communion would block the nomination of a woman as Archbishop of Canterbury. I thought it was nonsense, and I was right.

    I am now amazed by the assumption that ‘The Global South’ will be incensed by the nomination of Bishop Sarah Mullally because she is a woman. Give me the evidence.

    I know that the Global Anglican Future Conference (GAFCON) objects to the appointment of a woman and claims that the majority of the Anglican Communion do not accept women as bishops, but claims that their churches and the Global South Fellowship of Anglican Churches (GSFA) represent 75% or 85% of Anglicans should not go unchallenged. What does such a claim even mean?

    It takes me back to the 2007 Primates’ Meeting in Tanzania at the height of the controversy over the consecration of Bishop Gene Robinson. The primates were divided, with a number refusing to take communion with the Presiding Bishop of TEC – Katharine Jefferts Schori. Some refused to eat with her.

    As the Sunday approached, speculation was rife as to her reception at the public service of Holy Communion to be held on the holy ground of Zanzibar Cathedral. Online, a popular ‘news service’ from an extreme conservative perspective carried a series of comments speculating that she may be taken out and stoned for her heresy (others suggesting being thrown from the spire might be more appropriate).

    All primates bar Archbishop Akinola of Nigeria (who was ill) were present at the service and the host – Archbishop Mtetemela of Tanzania – introduced them one by one. Each one was met with enthusiastic applause. When it came to Bishop Katharine, we wondered what the reception would be. It was astounding.

    The Diocesan Mothers’ Union were prepared and waiting: to a woman they rose in joyful celebration. Around 50, perhaps as many as 100 women in their specially designed dresses burst into song to welcome ‘their’ primate. Other women around the Cathedral stood up to join them and the dancing spilled into the aisles.

    Zanzibar Cathedral is an iconic symbol of the Oxford Movement and a bastion of the High Church movement. Her bishops – especially former Archbishop John Ramadhani who was present at the service – had been outspoken in their opposition to women priests. It was assumed his views were shared – that is he represented the women and men of his diocese.

    Not a bit of it. The women made their views known – Bishop Katharine was an inspiration: a symbol of hope. She represented them.

    No one would claim that her views, especially her views on the inclusion of LGBTQI+ people, were shared by those celebrating her presence; what they were celebrating was their own inclusion in the body of Christ as women.

    So, when GAFCON or GSFA say the small number of primates and bishops who support their cause ‘represent’ so many thousands or millions of Anglicans, I wonder what they mean.

    When the GSFA sought support from bishops at the Lambeth Conference for a renewed commitment to Lambeth I.10 they claimed that the three Church of England bishops who signed their petition ‘represented’ 47,000 Anglicans. Did they seriously think that all 47,000 worshippers in those three dioceses were of the same mind as their bishops? They were effectively claiming that every worshipper in those dioceses opposed the celebration of faithful gay and lesbian relationships. Unbelievable. We should be equally cynical if we think that any primate of any province has the full, unequivocal support of their bishops, clergy, and people.

    GAFCON and GSFA have used the tactic of boycotting to force the hand of a Communion that hates division. They seek to exert power by stamping their feet and walking out. In doing so they often talk of ‘representing’ their constituency. But when Archbishop Mouneer Anis – then Primate of Jerusalem and the Middle East – and Archbishop Eluid Wabukala – Primate of Kenya – announced their boycott of the Anglican Consultative Council in 2016, neither of them consulted their provinces and both of their provincial delegations attended. Who were they ‘representing’?

    I guarantee that when the future Archbishop of Canterbury visits Tanzania the Mothers’ Union – with a mighty membership of over 600,000 – will go wild. It will be a week-long ‘sharehe’: a celebration with music and dance.

    In my experience – and I have attended many church services across Africa – women outnumber men in every congregation. They can often be two-thirds or even three-quarters of the worshippers, and yet every leader of both the GAFCON Council and Advisors and the board of GSFA are all men. This is not representation.

    The African Anglican women bishops are celebrating the nomination. Bishop Emily Onyango told the BBC that ‘Gafcon’s view was neither theologically nor biblically sound, but more “patriarchal, which is not very useful to the Church”.’ She knows that Bishop Mullally is someone who listens and listening, she says, is our great hope.

    I first met Onyango in 2008 in Oxford when she was studying for her PhD. She had just returned from the initial GAFCON where she had been a member of the theological commission. She talked to me of her experience of being sidelined and diminished. I later worked with her on Continuing Indaba and she is one of the most brilliant and insightful theologians of our generation. Her reflection on Sarah, Hagar, and Abraham in the context of her experience of fleeing ethnic violence in Kenya and her experience of polygamous societies from a female perspective is the most poignant pieces of biblical exegesis I have ever read. We rarely hear from her is because she is not offered the platforms for her voice to be heard; an exception is a podcast in the ‘Mutuality Matters’ series where she discusses the role of women in the East African revival movement and beyond.

    African Anglican women like Bishop Onyango encounter misogyny every day and they organise and speak out. The Mothers’ Union – often said to be the largest membership organisation in the world – campaigns against gender-based violence, female genital mutilation and for education for girls. African Anglicanism is a progressive movement for liberation.

    These women are not western liberals – they have a different agenda – but neither are they western conservatives. They are passionate followers of Christ. They remind me of the Samaritan woman in John 4, who was perfectly able to engage in theological dialogue, challenge, and be challenged and like her they then go out to proclaim the good news. They may not be ordained, but they are often the leaders of the church.

    When he reflected on GAFCON 2 in 2013, Andrew Atherstone remarked that ‘GAFCON will need to work harder to recruit and retain egalitarians if it is to enhance its appeal as a broad coalition.’ The response of the GAFCON chair to the nomination of a woman – even though he is the primate of a church that ordains women – shows that this work has not been done: the direction of travel is in the opposite direction.

    This has implications for those in the Church of England who are looking to ally themselves to GAFCON. Is their emerging structure sustainable? They are seeking to combine complementarians who believe that leadership in the church is exclusively male and those who do not, including women who are priests and bishops. The common response is that this is a second order issue, but the experience elsewhere is that women are asked to voluntarily forgo roles of leadership to maintain the unity of the movement. In England this is evidenced by the male-only leadership of  The Anglican Mission in England (AMiE) and the recent unorthodox ‘ordination’ of seven male deacons by a Bishop from REACH – a church that regards male headship as a first order issue. I wonder if women bishops and even priests or presbyters will continue to be welcome in the new movement.

    As for Archbishop-designate Sarah Mullally – she will discover that, across the Global South, women will be celebrating. They will recognise that they have someone who represents them. The Church of England has a kind, compassionate leader who exhibits the greatest of spiritual gifts as defined in 1 Corinthians 13. Let’s celebrate with the Global South women bishops.

     

     

  • Alternative ‘Anglican Ordinations’ – A Crucial Question

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

    Andrew Atherstone’s account of the ‘ordination’ – more on those quotation marks later – of seven ‘missionary clergy’ as deacons by Bishop Martin Morrison of the Reformed Evangelical Anglican Church of South Africa leaves a crucial question unasked and unanswered.

    Andrew is impressed and excited by the event. These ‘seven deacons’, he says, ‘have launched a grand experiment, designed to stress-test a prototype pipeline’. We are told this is a ‘bold beginning’.

    There are many things we are not told. We don’t know anything about the seven, except that they have had extensive training and would not accept an ordination pathway through the Church of England. We don’t know where they are serving, or if they are paid or self-funding. We don’t know to whom they are responsible for safeguarding. The Church of England authorities were given one day’s notice. Only 150 were present – presumably to limit the danger of a leak.

    In contrast to the openness and publicity around the ordination season in the Church of England, this is all so cloak and dagger – why? No one was going to rush in and stop the event. No one would be arrested.

    However, the crucial question neither asked nor answered by Atherton is if all of them were men. And what is not said in his blog about gender is vital for the future of the movement.

    This is relevant to those quotation marks around the word ‘ordination’. We are told that ‘the service was entirely under the auspices of REACH SA’, but the Handbook of Procedures of REACH SA is very specific: deacons are not ordained – they are ‘made’. By ‘ordaining’ deacons Bishop Morrison has broken with the polity of his church. Deacons remain laity in REACH SA; they are ‘made’ not ‘ordained.’

    REACH SA is clear on this distinction because women as well as men can be ‘made’ deacons even though it is not permissible for them to lead worship, or preach in church services (unless all present are women). Women cannot be ordained in REACH SA.

    In the polity of REACH SA, full-time ‘lady-workers’ may become ‘lady deacons’, following lengthy training and discernment and as such they will be able to be ‘used (sic) to read lessons, lead the singing or assist in other ways during Church services.’ There is no requirement in the Handbook that men who want to be deacons are in full-time ministry.

    This is in stark contrast to lay men who may be used to lead services, preach, and, in exceptional circumstances, to conduct a Baptism service or a Holy Communion service. Get your heads around that: ‘lady deacons’ can only lead the singing, lay men can baptise and preside.

    Ordination is only for men as presbyters. As presbyters they are leaders in the church.

    REACH SA seeks to reassure us that the reasoning behind this ‘is not an issue of chauvinism or dismissiveness or even unfair discrimination but arises out of theological reflection on God’s order in His world and Paul’s instructions to Timothy (1 Timothy 2:11f).’ The readers of this blog are unlikely to be convinced. It is by the fruits that we know them, not by fine words, and the result is misogyny.

    The question that Andrew Atherstone seems to avoid asking or answering is whether this action is simply about objections to the changes under LLF, or whether it reflects a deeper desire for a church that also removes women from any form of leadership.

    I suspect that there is an internal agenda in play here. This is not just a step on the journey for a unified movement, but perhaps a statement of intent from a branch of that movement seeking to control the internal agenda of the Alliance. There are those who seem to want the emerging church to define gender roles on complementarian principles. REACH SA considers this a first order issue just as much as their opposition to equal marriage, and so must those supporting these ‘ordinations’.

    I can’t see how any deacons of REACH SA can be in full communion with any women priests and bishops even if they agree on equal marriage.

    This leads me to wonder where this leaves those who would have once described themselves as ‘open evangelicals’ who are open to women in leadership, but not to equal marriage. Are they being pushed to the side?

    I can’t see how this alliance can hold.

     

  • Some Things You Never Forget

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

    For me, one of those moments you never forget was the Dar es Salaam Primates’ Meeting in 2007. It was my first Primates’ Meeting, and I was there to present my report on the “Listening Process on human sexuality.”

    In those days, national newspapers still sent correspondents to cover these meetings, and more than one journalist told me they expected something I said would be the spark that ignited an explosion. No pressure, then!

    When it was time for me to report, the Secretary General sat next to me. I think he intended to offer support, but I could feel him trembling. I could smell his anxiety. I had to tune him out and focus on Archbishop Rowan, who at least looked calm—though I bet he wasn’t.

    Fortunately, I was on home ground. I had lived in Tanzania for six years and had loved every minute of the event so far. The host, Archbishop Donald Mtetemela, was someone I had known for years, and he asked me to help welcome the primates, as he was recovering from malaria. This gave me the chance to befriend almost all of them—most of whom I already knew. I could translate for them, delighting in the chance to speak Kiswahili again.

    Two Archbishops, however, remained unreachable. The Archbishops of Uganda and Nigeria had withdrawn from all social events, worship, and meals. They were essentially living in another part of the hotel, surrounded by a group of mostly white advisors. Archbishop Orombi of Uganda was an old friend—I had once served on his evangelism team for a year—and he gave me a cheery smile. Archbishop Akinola, meanwhile, was reportedly in bed with a headache, which, I admit, came as something of a relief.

    When I was called to speak, I took a breath and charted the progress—such as it was—of the Listening Process across the Communion. I made it clear that the responsibility for responding to Lambeth I.10 was not mine, but theirs. I was simply there to monitor and assist.

    We then discussed a proposed book for the upcoming Lambeth Conference. To everyone’s surprise, the conversation was not only polite, but positive. Both Archbishop Mounir and Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori requested a chapter on the “science” of human attraction. Interestingly, they did so for completely opposite reasons—each believing the evidence would support their view. I hated that chapter, and the “science” proved nothing. But at least they agreed on something.

    Things seemed to be going well—until the Archbishop of Congo, Fidèle Dirokpa, asked to speak. He said he didn’t understand the problem. To him, gays were like any other sinners—no different from thieves or murderers—and we should reach out to them the same way.

    Unless you’re a prison chaplain, you may never have met a murderer. But if you’re from eastern DRC, you might have met a few. Dirokpa was being generous: even murderers can repent and be part of the Church—so why not gays? It seemed so obvious to him, he couldn’t understand why we weren’t all in agreement. Let them repent and fully include them. The response wasn’t anger, but silence.

    Later, Katharine Jefferts Schori would describe this moment as her “low point” of the entire Meeting—despite enduring a session where she had to be defended by other primates from quite personal attacks.

    Dirokpa was puzzled. He was surprised his words found no support. Even his close friend, the Archbishop of Burundi—who had translated for him, since he didn’t speak English—offered no backing.

    After the meeting, Dirokpa—knowing I spoke Kiswahili—pulled me aside. We huddled in a hotel lounge. He wanted to know why his words had fallen flat. Like many African church leaders, he had never knowingly met a gay person. Of course, he had met many gay people, but dominant homophobia in post-colonial African culture ensures that LGBTQI+ individuals often hide—even from themselves.

    This was my job: to enable people in the Church to listen to LGBTQI+ individuals. They didn’t need to agree or disagree—just hear. I wasn’t speaking for anyone, just helping mostly straight Christian leaders open their ears.

    A couple of hours later, he was ready to “listen to the experience of homosexual persons,” and I believe he did take future opportunities to listen and learn. I don’t think he ever accepted same-sex marriage or blessings as right for the Church, but he didn’t campaign for the removal of TEC from the Communion, nor—so far as I know—did he support the criminalisation of gay people. He embraced tolerance, and tolerance is the first step. Without it, we cannot move toward acceptance or celebration.

    I learned that we must keep offering opportunities to listen, rather than take offence and walk away.

    This was echoed by another conversation on the other side of the lounge that same evening. Bishop Jefferts Schori was in deep conversation with the Bishop of Central Tanganyika, one of the largest evangelical dioceses in East Africa—Bishop Mdimi Mohogolo.

    I first met Mohogolo in 1992 and used to play squash with his son (who always beat me). In 1997, he was part of the planning group for the Lambeth Conference and was one of those confronted by ‘Outrage!’ activists in the gardens of Lambeth Palace. After returning to Tanzania, he visited our house and talked about the encounter.

    His words to me have stayed with me:

    “I would much rather have our poverty than your gays.”

    These words were chilling. The poverty in Central Tanzania was and remains devastating. It kills. It is a curse. If you’ve never lived amidst poverty like that, you can’t imagine it. Yet the wonderful gay friends I had from school and university were, to him, a deeper curse.

    And yet—ten years later—this same man was in deep conversation with the Presiding Bishop of TEC, offering support. He advocated for ongoing relationships with TEC within the Tanzanian House of Bishops. Though once an ally of the conservative bloc, particularly through ties with the Diocese of Sydney, he had been on a journey. He had met gay and lesbian Christians, and he had learned tolerance. Again, I never heard him support the blessing of same-sex unions, but he led his diocese into meaningful relationships with TEC—partnerships that bore fruit on both sides. He was instrumental in the majority of Tanzanian bishops rejecting GAFCON.

    To equate being gay with being a murderer—or to see it as a deeper curse than life-threatening poverty—is to dehumanise and diminish an entire group of people. It contradicts the agreed statement of the Primates at Dromantine:

    “The victimisation or diminishment of human beings whose affections happen to be ordered towards people of the same sex is anathema to us.”

    When you dehumanise, you open the door to criminalisation.

    The way forward is to listen to LGBTQI+ people as friends. Then “homosexuality” ceases to be an “issue”—first order or otherwise.

    If you dehumanise a whole group, you can justify their criminalisation. “Homosexuality” becomes a curse to be eliminated. That is what has happened in Nigeria. Western advocates once told the press that the Archbishop there quietly opposed the anti-gay law. But in Dar that week, I had a chance to ask him directly.

    We were alone in his official room. I asked about the law. He was clear: he had instigated it and supported it fully. He wanted gays in prison. He supported restricting freedom of speech and the right to assembly so that LGBTQI+ people and their allies could never organise. I was shocked—but not surprised.

    If you see LGBTQI+ people as akin to murderers or more cursed than those starving and homeless, you have dehumanised them. And, once dehumanised, they can be silenced and imprisoned.

    The same happened in Uganda. Members of the Anglican Church were instrumental in pushing through shocking legislation. The effect of that legislation went beyond simple law with the persecution of gay people and the murder of David Kato, which was unequivocally condemned by a later Primates’ Meeting.

    And so to the present debates in the Church of England. A CEEC briefing paper suggests that those opposed to LLF can counter the argument that it is “not credal” by saying:

    “There are plenty of things not mentioned in the Creeds but upon which we would not be willing to accept any level of disagreement (e.g. murder). In short, the argument ‘it is not credal’ does not mean that we can simply have different views.”

    Apart from the obvious response that while murder is not in the Creeds it is one of the Ten Commandments, the real issue is that this kind of reasoning treats LGBTQI+ identity as an issue.

    I welcome the presence of those who disagree with me on the legitimacy of same-gender unions. But we must remember that we are talking about people—human beings.

    To be clear, the CEEC and Anglican Alliance have issued sincere statements condemning anti-gay laws in Nigeria and Uganda. But I see little action to match the words—and I wonder why.

    These laws were promoted by their Anglican allies. They have withdrawn from worship with those of us who promote equal marriage, yet I don’t see them threatening to withdraw from communion with those who promote violence toward gay people. They rejoice in partnerships with churches that have enacted hate-driven laws, while lamenting that Nigerians and Ugandans aren’t represented on the CNC for Canterbury. I know they oppose these laws—but I suspect they do not see them as a first order issue, rather a “cultural difference.”

    The true divide in the Anglican Communion is between those who see “homosexuality” as an issue, and those who engage with human beings of all sexualities—straight and gay—seeking to live and love in the way of Christ.

    For some, following in the steps of Archbishop Dirokpa and Bishop Mohogolo, this may mean continuing to oppose the blessing of same-sex unions—yet listening, respecting, and refusing to break Communion with those they disagree with.

    For others, like me, we believe that God calls both straight and gay people into permanent, faithful, stable, and joyful relationships. We are not issues—we are beloved people of God.

    “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

     

  • The Anglican Communion Reps on CNC

    by Canon Dr Phil Groves, a parish priest and former convenor of the Anglican Peace and Justice Network. His PhD is on Anglican Missional Ecclesiology and he was the Facilitator for the Listening Process in the Anglican Communion and Director of Continuing Indaba.

    Now we know who is to represent the Anglican Communion on the CNC, I hope that commentators from the BBC and other news organisations will stop saying that they will be a conservative block who will oppose any woman as Archbishop of Canterbury. It has always been obvious that this will not be the case.

    I remain unconvinced that this appointment process is sustainable in the long term, but it has given us an excellent diverse group of Anglicans who may be able to enhance the discernment process. They will not stop someone being chosen as Archbishop just because of their gender.

    In a previous post I speculated as to who would be chosen and I was wrong about all the individuals. I said at the time that I had no inside information. However, I was right that the requirement that all of them were recent members of the ACC meant that all would at least be comfortable with their partnership with provinces who had women bishops and even Primates, as well as with those provinces which celebrate the permanent and faithful relationships of their LGBTQI+ people, even if they themselves disagree, even strongly disagree, with equal marriage.

    It looks like on this I was right.

    I said that the Anglican Communion representatives may be more progressive than the C of E delegation. They may well be if we widen the definition of progressive to the key issues of climate activism, gender equality, gender justice, and the defence of minorities, for example Palestinian minorities – I suspect I am right on that as well.

    So, while the list of names is different to that which I put forward, my general point stands. Whoever guided this process did an excellent job. They had to balance all kinds of things and in the end two key decisions made all the difference. One thing I missed was that Canon Isaac Beach is Maori and so the obvious choice as an indigenous person. That was pretty bad and I apologise to him and to you all. I was also wrong about which person would be chosen for the primate seat: either Archbishop Mndolwa of Tanzania or Archbishop Hosam Naoum of Jerusalem would have been a great choice, as they are both wise leaders with deep faith. I suggested Archbishop Mndolwa, but they went with Archbishop Naoum.

    I have met a couple of the people chosen, but from reading their profiles this is what I hope they can bring to the CNC:

    I hope Canon Isaac will bring energy to the CNC with his entrepreneurial vision. I imagine him like Steven Bartlett on Dragons’ Den challenging the candidates to inspire him with a vision. His focus will be on combating the climate emergency. This will be so healthy in a process that might otherwise be bogged down by one issue, and one issue alone. The existential threat to humanity is climate and to have someone in the room reminding the CNC that there is a bigger world out there is absolutely vital.

    I hope that the very presence of Archbishop Naoum in the room will demand engagement on the next existential threat – the proliferation of devastating wars around the world. If the CNC does not stop to pray for the people of Palestine and Israel they will be letting us all down. Any applicant will need to be clear on how the Archbishop of Canterbury can prompt the conscience of the nation and the world in the face of horror, not only in Gaza, but also in Sudan, Myanma, Ukraine and elsewhere.

    I have never met Rev Prof Grace Nkansa Asante, but again she seems a terrific choice. Ghanaian Anglicanism is deeply catholic and it took much longer for women to be ordained there than in the evangelical heartlands of the East African Revival. She must have been convinced of her calling and patient for the church to recognise her. What really excites me is that she is a professor of economics. I hope that her very presence will force the CNC to consider economic justice. Our last two archbishops have spoken with clarity on this and our hope must be that the next will do also.

    The representative of the Americas is an interesting choice. Joaquín Philpotts is from Buenos Aires in the Anglican Province of South America. It is assumed that the Province of South America is conservative but, in reality, it is a complex entity. Previous Primates of the Province of the Southern Cone, such as Archbishops Maurice Sinclair and Greg Venables, were driving forces in what was then simply called the ‘Global South’, but not all in their provinces were convinced of the line they took. Archbishop Zavala of Chile had strong links to the Anglican Church in North America, but with Chile as a separate province, the commitment of the Province of South America to GAFCON and the Global Fellowship of Confessing Anglicans has not been clear cut, with the present primate attending the most recent Primates Meeting.

    My hope is that Joaquín Philpotts will bring the perspective of those Anglicans who are in a tiny minority. Being an Anglican in places like Argentina is often a very deliberate choice. I find that such Anglicans have a very clear understanding of our Anglican identity. They have to explain it to their friends and family who will often be Roman Catholic or Pentecostal. I have learnt so much of what it is to be Anglican from my sisters and brothers in South America, the Philippines, Mozambique, Japan and Korea. I hope Joaquín’s presence will require the candidates to be clear on just what it means to be Anglican in an ecumenical context.

    The last Anglican Communion representative is Bishop Mary Stallard of Llandaff. Some people raise the question of why three relatively small provinces get the same representation as the numerous huge provinces of Africa. It is a valid question. My answer would be that these small provinces are disproportionally affected by the Church of England. Archbishops of Canterbury have a tendency to forget that they are not the Primates of the British Isles – or even the UK. They need reminding. In 2010 Archbishop Rowan accepted the offer to welcome the Pope to the UK at an event in Edinburgh. Lambeth Palace never even stopped to think this might be odd, and the Scottish Episcopal Church was not consulted. The Archbishop of Canterbury was seated among the dignitaries and the Primus among the congregation. I was told at the time that it set back ecumenical relationships in Scotland. Archbishop Justin took it on himself to intervene when the Bishop of St David’s posted inappropriate Tweets. He pre-empted the Archbishop of Wales. The Archbishop of Canterbury needs to remember they are the Primate of the Church of England. It may sound odd, but my hope is that the Bishop of Llandaff will remind the candidates to focus on England in partnership with our neighbours and not act as a superior power.

    We all know that many people will focus on one issue as the CNC looks to appoint an Archbishop of Canterbury. I don’t even need to say what that issue is. My hope is that the Anglican Communion Representatives will enable the English members of the CNC to see a wider vison.

    I hope that those seeking to lead the Church of England will be challenged to demonstrate entrepreneurial ambition. I hope they will recognise the inconvenient truth that climate change is an existential threat. They will have the courage to campaign for peace and confront economic injustice. I hope they will be open to understanding Anglican identity from the perspective of those who deliberately choose to be Anglicans and that they recognise that the primary role of the Archbishop of Canterbury is to lead the Church of England.

    If the Communion representatives can lift the eyes of the electors above and beyond a single issue, no matter how dominating and divisive that issue is, they will have done us all a great service.