Tag: hope

  • Bleeding While Leading: A Theological and Leadership Reflection

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

    Introduction: The Wounded Healer

    To lead while bleeding is to embody the paradox of Christ crucified and risen. It is to stand at the altar with wounds still fresh, to proclaim resurrection while still buried under the weight of systemic injustice. This reflection is not just theological—it is incarnational. It is the story of a Black, queer curate in the Church of England, navigating a decade of racism, homophobia, classism, and xenophobia, first as a layperson and then as a clergyman. The Church, which should be a place of refuge, has often been a crucible of suffering. The Gospel of Luke tells us that Jesus “set his face to go to Jerusalem” (Luke 9:51), knowing that the journey would end in betrayal, rejection, and death. To lead while bleeding is to walk that same road, not toward triumph, but toward truth.

    The Master’s Tools and the Architecture of Oppression

    Audre Lorde’s prophetic insight—”The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house”—speaks directly to the ecclesial structures that perpetuate exclusion. The Church of England, with its colonial legacy and hierarchical governance, often uses tools forged in whiteness, patriarchy, and heteronormativity to assess vocation and worth. These tools are not neutral. They are instruments of gatekeeping. My rejection from a parish post in 2020, citing discomfort with my ethnic background in a “monochrome white working-class” parish, is a stark example of how these tools operate. The rejection was not about theology or capability—it was about race. It was about maintaining the architecture of comfort for the dominant culture.

    Conversion Therapy: A Theology of Violence

    On 6 August, the Church Times reported that New Wine has formally apologised to me for the abuse I endured during a 2013–2014 internship. This included forced participation in a “LIFE Ministry” group aimed at “setting people free from homosexuality.” This was not pastoral care: it was spiritual violence. It was a theology of erasure. Luke’s Gospel offers a counter-narrative. In Luke 7, Jesus says to the woman who anoints him, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” He does not demand she change her identity. He affirms her dignity. The apology from New Wine, while necessary, came after years of silence and dismissal. This confession echoes the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37), where religious leaders pass by the wounded. It was the outsider who stopped, who saw, who healed.

    Kinship and Betrayal: Not All Skinfolk Are Kinfolk

    The African American proverb “Not all skinfolk are kinfolk” painfully captures the reality that solidarity is not guaranteed, even among those who share racial identity. Within the Church, Black and Asian clergy have sometimes perpetuated homophobia, aligning with conservative theology that excludes LGBTQIA+ siblings. The same theology which held them in chains of oppression they use to oppress the queer people. Something that many liberationists had to realize is that we are not free until everyone is free. This betrayal is reminiscent of Judas, who shared bread with Jesus but still handed him over. In Luke 22, Jesus says, “But behold, the hand of him who betrays me is with me on the table.” To be betrayed by those who look like you, who worship beside you, is a unique kind of crucifixion.

    Formation and Fragmentation at Theological College

    My experience at theological college was not one of formation, but one of fragmentation. Theological colleges are meant to be places of discernment and growth, yet they often replicate the very systems of exclusion they claim to challenge. Time and time again I get pastoral emails, calls and invitations to coffee from people in theological college struggling because of racism. The Gospel of Luke begins with Mary’s Magnificat (Luke 1:46–55), a song of reversal: “He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.” Formation must be rooted in this radical reordering—not in conformity to oppressive norms.

    Psychological Safety and Leadership Development

    Psychological safety is a shared belief that people can express themselves without fear of reprisal. In church leadership, this is essential for fostering trust, collaboration, and authenticity. Research by Dr. Amy Edmondson and others shows that teams with high psychological safety perform better and experience less burnout. The Church of England’s Living Ministry research highlights the importance of wellbeing, especially in the face of systemic challenges. Clergy wellbeing must be supported through leadership development that prioritizes emotional health, vocational clarity, and relational support.

    Rejection, Anxiety, and the Fear of Homelessness

    I have been rejected from over 15 curacies and 14 roles post-curacy. I have watched friends receive parishes and roles without even applying. If I do not find a role by Christmas, I will be homeless and without a job. As someone who grew up in homeless shelters, this reality is terrifying and anxiety-inducing. At 35 years old, I believed I would be leading or helping to lead an evangelical fresh expression or pioneering something new to help people come to know Jesus. Instead, I find myself fighting for survival in a system that claims to be built on grace but often operates on exclusion.

    Resurrection and Hope

    Despite the trauma, I continue to serve faithfully. My story echoes that of Zacchaeus (Luke 19), a man rejected by society but embraced by Jesus. Zacchaeus responds with restitution, giving back what was taken. The Church must do the same. Apologies are not enough. There must be structural change, reparative justice, and a reimagining of vocation that includes all bodies, all identities.

    Conclusion: A Theology of Hope

    To bleed while leading is to live in the tension of Holy Saturday between death and resurrection. It is to believe, like the women at the tomb, that the story is not over. The Church must become a place where wounds are not hidden but honoured, where leadership is not sanitised but sanctified through suffering. May the Church of England dismantle its house not with the master’s tools, but with the carpenter’s—tools of justice, mercy, and truth. May it become a place where all are welcome at the table, not just tolerated in the pews. And may those who bleed while leading find not just healing, but resurrection.

  • Trans Theology Conference – The Pastoral Care of Transgender, Intersex and Non-Binary People

    A Reflection by the Revd Jane Speck, Chaplain to the Conference; Jane is the Chaplain at York St John University, where she works with staff and students and leads a multifaith team.  She is also a member of the Iona Community.

    This September, York St John University was privileged to host the second ever Trans Theology Conference. Inaugurated in Oxford in 2022 by Revd Helen Garton and Chrissie Chevasutt, the conference seeks to give voice to trans people of faith, to create community and to share research and best practice.

    As the Chaplain to the conference, I was invited to offer the Conference Reflection at its end. Myself a cisgender trans-affirming feminist woman, it was a huge honour to be invited to address the conference in this way. The following is an edit of the reflection I offered, in the hope that it will sum up the main issues of the conference and even inspire some of you to sign up for next year!

    Attendees at the conference travelled a long way together in those couple of days, plumbing the richness of trans lives and experience, sharing wisdom, offering poetry, performance and song to express experiences more fully. It was emotional for many, as we looked both at how very far the Trans community has come, and yet how far there is still to go.

    Chrissie Chevasutt began the conference with the image of the Very Hungry Caterpillar. It’s such a favourite with me, as a metaphor for all kinds of life journey, that I keep a couple of copies on the Chaplaincy bookshelves for people to read.

    However, I realised during Chrissie’s talk that Eric Carle made a huge omission when he wrote his book, and it’s one that Chrissie addressed. It’s the page depicting the caterpillar’s cocoon. Carle drew the cocoon, then we flip the page and – ta daaaa! Butterfly! Which is exactly how easy transition is, right?!

    Well, of course not. That time in the cocoon can last a very long time. On the second day of the conference, Professor Susannah Cornwall showed us data on NHS waiting times for Gender Clinics. The average wait for a trans person to rise to the top of the waiting list and start to receive treatment is 69 months. The struggle to be taken seriously; the pressure to submit to a medicalisation that may or may not feel helpful, and meanwhile the striving to live an authentic life within a patriarchal society and what, for many, is also a patriarchal church denomination, all take their toll.

    Not for nothing did Dr Nicolete Burbach draw profound parallels, in her session, ‘What Does the Cross Mean for Trans People?’, between the experience of transitioning and the cross of Christ. Many trans people will have felt crucified by their experiences, as the data around trans people’s mental health tragically shows.

    However, there was a broader theme that I saw peeking out around the edges all the way through the conference. And that is the theme of hope. Dr Burbach spoke of the hope encapsulated in the cross as we look back with the benefit of hindsight and see the light of the resurrection. This is not a blind or Pollyanna-ish hope. This is a hope which bears the scars of crucifixion, which transforms its suffering into the understanding, compassion and love of redemption.

    It’s hope that keeps trans, intersex and non-binary people on their paths, and hope that keeps them battling to save themselves and one another. It’s hope that leads people like Jack Woodruff, speaking of his experience ‘Navigating the Church’ to believe that for trans people to find a place in a church that affirms them is a distinct possibility – and, in some places, actually a reality. It’s hope that keeps so many of us within churches that are experiencing the pushback we explored at this conference against the equality and inclusion of LGBTQIA+ people, as trans people gain confidence. Chrissie helpfully named the forces that seek to keep minority groups ‘in their place’ as the Old Empire, rising out of our colonial past and refusing quite to die.

    We heard that hope sung by Naomi Orrell in her astonishingly beautiful, prize-winning ‘Antiphon for the Blessed Trans Body’ in the Spoken/Written Word competition. We saw it enacted in Jo Clifford’s ground breaking ‘Queen Jesus the Play’, and experienced its rhythm and power in the poetry of Jay Hulme. This hope is real, and weaves its way through all our lives.

    Hope, however, is not an easy thing. A Buddhist friend tells me that one of the things Buddhists seek to let go of is hope, as it is tied in to desire and is therefore a form of suffering. Hope is a risk. Hope courts rejection and hurt, which many trans, intersex and non-binary people will know too much about.

    But hope also gives strength for the struggle. The gloop inside the caterpillar’s cocoon struggles to rebuild itself, then fights to be free. Without the fight, there would be no strength. Without the struggle, the butterfly will never fly free.

    This does not, and cannot be allowed to, justify the pain inflicted on trans, intersex and non-binary folk by others. Perhaps it can give meaning to the hard paths they walk, as they head towards the light, but it can never be used as an excuse. This is why the non-judgmental, positive pastoral care on which the conference was focussed is so vital in enabling people to re-member themselves in the re-telling of their trauma, and in being given the space to grieve, to process and to move forwards again. Alex Clare-Young addressed this in their talk on ‘Queer(y)ing Narratives’, noting that pastoral care can never be a ‘one size fits all’ model, but must be nuanced for each individual, the stage they are at and the needs they bring. Perhaps Eric Carle should have inserted an extra page in his storybook, showing the struggle of the butterfly to get out of the cocoon and fly…

    In the Christian faith we are particularly and uniquely placed, I do believe, to embrace people of all gender expressions. We believe in a God who transcends the gender constructs we ascribe to. We teach a God, as The Venerable Dr Hayley Matthews noted in her opening remarks, who spoke that word Vav or ‘and’, not ‘or’, in creating humanity – male and female; who chose a model of infinite variety for creation. A God who reminds us that we never, ever get to say, ‘you’re made in the image of God, and you’re made in the image of God, but I’m not so sure about you…’ And we believe in a God who gave us Jesus, to experience human suffering, give himself to the process, and show us that suffering and even death are not the end of the story. As it says in the Psalms, by his wounds we are healed. And so we wear our own scars, however we have come by them, as symbols of our hope and badges of our belonging to the One who touches our wounds and says, you are still here. You belong.

    This conference was a gift, both to us at York St John and, I hope, to the attendees. It is, I hope and pray, one that many more people will open their arms and hearts to receive next year.