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Tag: inclusion

  • Cooking with Love and Faith

    by Nic Tall, member of General Synod and National Coordinator of Together for the Church of England

    The General Synod has met again. Once again, it has debated the current stage of Living in Love and Faith (LLF), once again the plans to move forward have been approved in all three Houses of the Synod, and once again this permission to proceed still has a significant minority of Synod in opposition to the proposals.

    One aspect of the debate was the selection of metaphors used in speeches – Fortnum and Mason port and Stilton hampers, Argos flat pack furniture, LLF being like a bus with some on board and others feeling run over. One metaphor which came up in several speeches, all opposed to the proposals, was that it wasn’t “oven ready”. That the phrase was used several times implies co-ordinated comms work from conservatives literally speaking from the same centrally pre-prepared text. “Not oven-ready” expresses a concern that there hasn’t been enough work done, that proposed pastoral guidance needs more time and more consultation before it is fit for purpose, and we should stick with Issues in Human Sexuality until its replacement.

    Since coming home from the debate, I have been thinking through the questions of process and this culinary metaphor, and I have been comparing the LLF process to baking bread. We have been following a recipe, collecting and mixing ingredients, kneading the dough, stepping back and leaving it to rise for a while, before returning to knock it back, squeezing the air out, more pushing, pulling and stretching before leaving it to rise again. A good baker knows that a time of proving before further kneading helps the structure and flavour of the bread, but repeat that process too often and you ruin it.

    Before I talk about how we have been cooking the bread of LLF, I want to think about how the House of Bishops prepared the meal that is Issues in Human Sexuality.  I recently spoke with someone who was in the room when Issues was written.  It was a document purely created by the House of Bishops, who we should remember at that point included no women and no openly LGBT+ people. There was no Programme Board, no working groups, no consultation with stakeholder groups or involvement with the wider church at all. The entire process came from the House of Bishops discussing among itself and then putting out its thoughts as a teaching document, not intended as the policy statement that Issues later became. The preface stated “We cannot expect all to agree with our conclusion and, indeed, in our discussions we encountered a wide variety of opinions… It is our hope that this Statement – which we do not pretend to be the last word on the subject – will do something ‘to help forward a general process, marked by greater trust and openness, of Christian reflection on the subject of human sexuality’”. Issues was cooked by a small group of episcopal chefs, and was not intended to be the final meal. More than thirty years since it was first served up it now become stale and few find it appetising.

    Given the lack of process leading to the half-baked Issues, what has been happening in the kitchen to cook up its replacement? LLF began with panels of experts gathering to compile material around theology, biblical studies, history and more which formed the LLF book, videos, podcasts and course. These were then made available to the whole church to study, discuss and pray about. From late 2020 through to mid 2022, all policy work was paused while the resources were used at the grassroots in parishes, benefices and deaneries. In the baking metaphor, this was a period of the LLF dough being left to rise. Then there was a consultation, the largest in the C of E’s history, capturing the feedback of over 6000 who took part in the course and following up with focus groups to drill down deeper into grassroots opinion. The results were a majority wanting liturgical affirmation of same-sex relationships, a quick decision so everyone knew where they stood and a strong desire for the church to remain together.

    Through the autumn of 2022, the House of Bishops developed their proposals, which were modest but deliverable and brought to General Synod in February 2023. Synod welcomed the proposals through a vote passed in all three Houses. There has since been further work considering refinement and implementation, including consultation with stakeholder groups, small working groups and facilitated conversations bringing together people with very different theological convictions, in-person talks with representatives from different constituencies, theological input from the Faith and Order Commission, legal support from the Church of England’s Legal Office and a further substantial debate in General Synod in November 2023 affirming the ongoing direction of travel. There have been a ‘Next Steps Group’ and a ‘Moving Forward’ video.

    In preparation for the July 2024 Synod, there were different working groups, more stakeholder consultations, a Programme Board, further meetings of the College and House of Bishops and more input from FAOC. And then at the most recent Synod a third major vote has yet again passed in all three Houses to affirm the ongoing direction of travel. We can safely say that the LLF dough has been thoroughly kneaded, shaped and proved. When we compare the many years and wide consultation of the LLF process to the short bishops-only cooking up of Issues, we can be sure that we are in a much better place that will be more widely owned by the whole church once this dish comes out of the oven.

    We also have to remember who the chefs are in preparing this meal. The commending of liturgy and the issuing of pastoral guidance is the responsibility of the House of Bishops.  When Issues was published, it did not require Synodical approval; it was a document from the Bishops. Its replacement will also not need the approval of Synod. The House of Bishops have been much more sensitive this time around in ensuring wide consultation and involving people outside their number. The new pastoral guidance will not be something created in a closed room by a small group of outwardly straight men and then passed down from on high. It has been a collaborative process, with the bishops supported by Synod, FAOC, stakeholders, the Legal Office and all our parishes and deaneries who invested time with engaging.

    But now it is down to the House of Bishops to complete the process by putting it in the oven to bake. That is their job, and it is not for the rest of us to interfere. Neither will it help if we insist on continually opening the oven door to check how it’s getting on. Too many cooks will only spoil the meal.

    So, once the well-prepared dough of LLF that we currently have has been properly baked, brought out and left to cool, I hope we will be able to gather together to enjoy the breaking, sharing and eating. And I hope that will be around one table, where all are called, including our LGBTQIA+ family members who are usually only offered crumbs under the table. I hope also that our more conservative family members will also be at the feast around the one table, and not feel that they have to sit in another room apart from the rest of us.

    I hope that shared meal comes very soon, as many in the church, especially LGBTQIA+ people, are hungry and are needing to be fed.

  • PRIDE: More than Sparkling Spandex

    by the Very Revd David Monteith, Dean of Canterbury

    In 2009 Barack Obama sealed June as ‘Pride Month’.  These events are now as common across the UK as apple fayres or carnivals of Olde. PRIDE is mainstream. The elements of protest and political rally have gone in favour of community celebration – perhaps still with a little more edginess and ostrich feathers than your average festival.

    The badge is still the rainbow PRIDE flag with its origins in the stories of San Francisco gay liberation. The flag provokes strong reactions. Some people of faith remind us that pride is a deadly sin as if LGBTQIA+ people have more monopoly on that than others.

    I grew up in N. Ireland in a flag culture. Flags united and divided communities. They added colour to life and made visible in the public arena the aspirations which people held privately. Working in cathedrals has taught me a lot about flags used in services as banners of identity. The ultimate intensity of these symbols is the Military Standard (not technically flags) which carry the weight of full regimental identity. Some call them sacramental. PRIDE and the PRIDE flag carry intense meanings which allow many to rally around and others to oppose.

    A colleague here displays a Progress Pride flag on their office window out onto our Precincts. We get periodic complaints about this suggesting it is discriminatory, inappropriate and that we are supporting the ‘gay agenda’. Often complaints are intemperate. We’ve had individuals storming into the office requiring us to remove the flag with diatribes of anti-LGBTQIA+ venom.

    Much has changed since I attended my first PRIDE in the 1980s.  LGBTQIA+ equality is no longer a minority concern. Laws, institutions and families are more inclusive. However, I also see that not far under the surface remain fears and hates which bubble up.

    My partner and I walked along a beach with the dog, holding hands, whilst a group sniggered, offered low-level abuse and the derogatory names. I sit on a train in civvies going up and down to London and I hear prejudicial hate-filled talk about LGBTQIA+ people. We’ve sat in curry houses with groups of tertiary level students being horrible. I’ve had reports of people who will not come to worship if I am preaching. I sit in meetings where LGBTQIA+ people are tolerated.  How often have I visited a parish having to explain I do not have a wife but a civil partner and then – stony silence.

    These experiences, whether verbal abuse or that chilly atmosphere or that silence, still provoke anxiety in me as to what hurt might happen next. Hate crime remains under-reported by LGBTQIA+ people yet it is still rising despite all the protections in a more inclusive society.

    We still need PRIDE even just as a community festival. It makes us visible. Despite footballers or celebrities, visibility is still an issue. PRIDE insists that it is possible to be an inclusive community where the needs and rights of everyone do not diminish the needs and rights of others. A PRIDE rainbow flag flown on town halls, hospitals and fire stations, schools and even some places of worship says ‘we are here’, ‘you are welcome’ and ‘there is still work to do’.

    Social media and politics remind us that lurking not far under the surface are views and emotions for harm rather than for good. No amount of training or education seems to really deal with this sea of dystopian sludgy sin. We now know from brain analysis that our ancient (sometimes described as monkey) brains have signals that travel much faster than other brain signals. These trigger flight, fight and fear responses long before more reasoned responses. This brain is much less malleable than the rest of the brain which is much more able to learn from experience.  This old brain is the hardest place for grace and redemption to reach. Many prejudices emanate from such visceral instincts. This does not justify such prejudices but it means that addressing them is a life’s work.

    As LGBTQIA+ people we too make this painful journey – we are still learning what ‘generous Christian inclusion’ fully means in us rather than listening to the prejudice that can rise in our own hearts and minds as well as with others. This is a spiritual and psychological locus which makes for shame that impacts negatively our self-esteem. Of course, for Christians our safe identity is in Jesus Christ as children of God. There is security from that belonging when ‘sticks and stones’ have sought to do us harm. However, if in church or family or community our sense of genuine inclusion is not reinforced but instead questioned, rejected or filtered through visceral prejudice, then our ability to live out the good news of our identity in Christ is hampered. PRIDE is a counter-balance to the undermining pressures we still too often experience.

    It’s great that many PRIDE celebrations include ‘Christians at PRIDE’ groups made up of LGBTQIA+ people and allies. However, can we imagine most local churches present at PRIDE, generously inviting people to the gospel and life amidst the rainbow people of God, protecting those still harmed by hateful words and actions?

    We’d need a church which is genuinely safe enough with the ability to nurture everyone and address the fears that rise from our prejudicial depths. Even as the glitter and the glamour of PRIDE cheers us to a smile, these celebrations remind the church that there is a very long road still to travel.

     

     

  • A Plentiful Harvest: Growth in Inclusive Churches

    by Revd Dr Augustine Tanner-Ihm, Team Curate at St James & Emmanuel, Didsbury, Manchester and winner of the 2020 Theology Slam

    Just over 19 years ago, my life took a profound turn when I pledged myself to the teachings and person of Jesus Christ. This powerful, transformative experience occurred during a Pentecostal service in a small village located approximately 90 minutes outside of St. Louis. At the time, I was a 14-year-old adolescent grappling with depression and the harsh realities of homelessness, as my family and I were living in a shelter near Chicago. As narrated in the parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32), I was lost, and then found, embraced by a divine love that forever altered the path of my life.

    In subsequent years, I discerned a profound call to ministry, resonating deeply with the Great Commission as found in Matthew 28:19-20: “Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.” This call from our Lord Jesus Christ provided me with a sense of purpose and value, igniting a fervour in me to spread the gospel in a way that was contextual and geared towards spiritual transformation.

    Today, nearly two decades later, my mission and focus remain steadfast. I value church growth not out of ambition for worldly success, but from a deep-seated desire for more individuals to come into a saving faith in Jesus Christ. As Paul writes in Romans 1:16, the gospel is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes. This conviction transcends denominational lines and theological differences within the Christian community. Despite these disparities, my spirit rejoices when individuals come to know Christ, and my zeal for evangelism remains unabated.

    Upon answering the call to priesthood, I was initially apprehensive that my primary role would shift to being a chaplain to a congregation, rather than an evangelist. Further, my theology, which affirms the inclusion of marginalized groups, seemed to conflict with the prevalent notions of church growth I observed in the United Kingdom, where I have resided for the past decade.

    Often, churches that baptized and discipled many individuals either remained silent on inclusion matters or made very clear statements affirming traditional views on human sexuality. However, my experience serving under Revd Dr. Nick Bundock, Rector of St. James and Emmanuel Church, Didsbury, deviated from this pattern. Under his leadership, our church has adopted an inclusive theology while simultaneously producing ordained and lay leaders, establishing a Church of England Primary School, an Anglican School trust, and playing an active role in the community.

    Last August, we held a confirmation service where over 95 people from our parish were confirmed. It was a deeply moving experience. A few weeks later, we baptized an entire family who had converted to Christianity from Islam. Earlier in the year, a man who found our church through our online presence started attending our church. All of these individuals came to our church because of our bold and inclusive message of the gospel.

    Initially, I feared that advocating for inclusion might lead to the closure of our church. However, what we have experienced has been a profound affirmation of God’s love for all people. We have seen faith manifest itself in a myriad of ways within our community. We have seen belonging leading to believing, and believers becoming disciples. We serve a God who, as expressed in Acts 10:34-35, shows no favouritism but accepts all who fear Him and do what is right.

    We do not believe in inclusion because it is trendy, but because we are convinced it is a faithful interpretation of Scripture and the work of the Holy Spirit. We are praying and sowing the seeds of the gospel as described in Matthew 13, the Parable of the Sower. As we look to the future, we pray for a revival of faith among more inclusive evangelical churches. We believe we are witnessing a new harvest, one that affirms the beautiful diversity of God’s creation.

    Our congregation, under the guidance of Revd Dr. Nick Bundock, has cultivated a vibrant community that seeks not just to declare God’s message but to live it in practical ways. We have participated in various missions in Salford, Uganda, India, and beyond, demonstrating the global scope of our gospel mission. We emulate the apostles in the Book of Acts, particularly in Acts 1:8, where Jesus proclaims: “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

    In a notable instance of domestic outreach, a man who was seeking understanding of autism in relation to Christianity stumbled upon our church’s inclusive website. He happened to live in the parish, and has since become an active participant in our spiritual community. This striking experience exemplifies the far-reaching power of the internet as a tool for ministry in the digital age, drawing parallels with the apostle Paul’s innovative communication techniques in his time.

    Another powerful instance occurred during a marriage course, designed by my fellow curate Revd Lex Russell and her partner Johanna Russell. This course allowed couples to explore the intersection of the gospel and relationships, facilitating spiritual growth in a unique context. In one case, the bride of a couple I was preparing for marriage expressed her desire to be baptised and begin a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. This serves as an exemplary instance of how relational ministry can lead individuals closer to God, echoing the teachings found in Ephesians 5:22-33, where the relationship between partners ikened to that between Christ and the church.

    Reflecting on these and numerous other experiences, I am struck by how our explicit message of gospel inclusion has fostered such rich and diverse spiritual growth within our community in Manchester. Every person, every story, is a testament to God’s love and grace extending to all people, mirroring the teachings of Galatians 3:28: “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

    In conclusion, we do not view inclusion as a fleeting trend, but rather as a central tenet of our faith derived from a thoughtful understanding of Scripture and underlined by the Spirit’s conviction. This belief in the inclusivity of all God’s people guides us as we pray, sow seeds of faith, and wait in hope for a plentiful harvest.

  • EvangelicAlly

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

    I became a Christian in the proper evangelical ‘prayed the prayer’ type way when I was 14. And although, looking back, I know that God was not absent for the first 13 years of my life (I always believed in a God, always prayed), that moment was really important in my life with God. In recalling it, I have often said that the story I was told on that night, about salvation and sacrifice and choosing to follow Jesus, was one that I already knew, that resonated with the story already within my soul, and so I said ‘Yes!’

    I didn’t know then that I was not just a Christian, but an Evangelical Christian. Only in my twenties did I start to become aware of the tribal nature of the Church of England, and to meet some Liberal Christians. Contrary to what I’d been led to expect, I discovered that they were, in fact, Christian! I also began my theology degree at Spurgeon’s College as an independent student, with tutors from many denominations. One of my modules was on Spirituality, and it was here that I discovered the wonderful length and breadth of Christian Tradition. Within this tradition, it was clear that I was an Evangelical and that this was part of a whole multi-faceted history.

    Obviously within my Evangelical roots was the idea that ‘homosexuality was wrong.’ I wanted to be a good Christian so, whilst slightly uncomfortable with this idea, I admit that I simply went with it. It didn’t seem to make much of a difference to my own life, so I didn’t have to think about it. As I grew up and as my world expanded, that changed. I needed to connect my theology with my knowledge of who God is and what God is like, and the reality that this affected real people.

    However, at that time exploring the theology of men and women was my priority, as it affected me personally, in my own call to ordination. I found it painful to be ousted from my clan, to be told I wasn’t an Evangelical, to find myself without a home and to feel like I didn’t belong. This still hurts, although with much less sting than it used to, but the experience helps me to understand the emotional processes that are going on, for those who are in the Evangelical tribe, when they even begin to think about standing out for Same-Sex Marriage.  Yes, it is an excuse, but if we do not accept that this is a strong attachment, then we will never be able to have the conversations that encourage and enable people to publicly change their mind.

    It was my exploration of the biblical arguments regarding men and women which took me to places where the conversation was about humanity and our relationships more broadly. There were those in the Evangelical world who closed themselves to the conversation on the ordination of women because they said it was the ‘thin end of the wedge’, calling into question the place of headship in marriage, which is for them, absolute in Scripture. If this could be questioned, then the next thing on the table would be … homosexuality.

    That emotional response to having to think about a possible change in mindset over LGBT+ inclusion sometimes lay at the root of saying ‘no’ to a change of mind on women’s ordination. The argument for women as bishops was often regressed to the question about women’s ordination in its entirety. And, in a way, I understood this anxiety. As I listened to ordained women argue for their place, I often wondered how we could ever be closed to the question of LGBT+ inclusion. It would always be possible for a biblical perspective to be presented that was persuasive. The possibility would never be closed. And this is, of course, the posture of the Christian faith – we are people of revelation and it is really uncomfortable!  In every generation, we must do the wrestling of working out what is good and true and of God and what is ephemera.  But to choose not to wrestle is, I’m afraid, not an option.

    It wasn’t just the reality of revelation and the possibility of persuasive biblical argument that I discovered in exploring a theology of men and women; it was a different reading of an actual biblical story about human relationships, Genesis 2.  My understanding of this story was fundamentally changed by, for example, Phyllis Trible’s God and the Rhetoric of Sexuality (1978).

    Where previously this had been delivered as a story of difference, I began to see the meaning as lying in the expression of shared humanity: ‘bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh’. The focus here is on the sameness. Of course, there is also difference. The Human who lies down to sleep is not the same as the human who wakes up: the Dustling (ha’adam) lies down and becomes the man (iysh) and the other human, the woman (ishshah).

    But this particular difference only frames the focus of the story, which is that men and women have the same humanity. It is understandable that the story uses men and women to illustrate the ultimate difference, but this is about making the point about shared humanity more powerful. It does not necessarily create a defining doctrine regarding who can be in relationship with each other in marriage. We are all ‘bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh.’ When I stare into the eyes of another human, I must be able to say this; to see in them, myself, and to recognise the image of God in the other. Every other human being is different to me, not just those who are not my biological sex; every human being is, in some sense, ‘other’ to me. This story tells me that I must see myself in the woman in the hijab, the boy with the braids, the enby wheelchair user.

    This story has reframed for me all the other stories in Scripture in which the relationship between men and women is at the forefront. It has given me a basis on which to stand in anyone’s company and be their equal, and them, mine.

    It has meant that, in terms of my own humanity, I am assured of my value and my place. And it has given me the lens through which I see my LGBT+ siblings and niblings: ‘bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh.’

     

     

  • Purist, Principled, Pragmatic? A Good Friday Agreement for the Church of England

    by Simon Butler, former member of Archbishops’ Council and member of General Synod 2005-2022

    The death of David Trimble was announced this week. Tweeting about Lord Trimble, Alistair Campbell, who knew him well through the Good Friday Agreement negotiations, said this: “He could be a difficult and mercurial character but he was the right man in the right place at the right time.”

    That got me thinking about where we go next as we approach the end of this part of the Living in Love and Faith (LLF) project. As we move from the phase of listening and learning, and await what emerges from the Next Steps Group and forthcoming House of Bishops meetings, who might be the right people in the right place at the right time in seeking a way forward beyond the current position we find ourselves in, which both conservatives and progressives find equally unsatisfactory and toxic? Setting aside questions of personality and temperament, which make some people less suited to negotiation and compromise, who needs to be talking to whom, when and about what?

    Looking across the divide as a progressive towards my conservative colleagues, I see two broad positions being taken. This first I might describe as purist. Purists don’t just hold a conservative position but appear to believe that such a position is the only position that can legitimately be held by anyone who claims the name of Anglican. The purist position was articulated well by Dr Ian Paul who, speaking on BBC Newsnight recently, said this: “To say that there is a plurality of views [about same sex marriage] is to claim that the two different views are of equal value and of equal significance … the 2016 Primates’ Meeting said that the moves in North America are a fundamental departure from the faith.” The full quote does more justice to the Primates, “Recent developments in the Episcopal Church with respect to a change in their Canon on marriage represent a fundamental departure from the faith and teaching held by the majority of our Provinces on the doctrine of marriage.” The Primates didn’t unchurch the North Americans by this statement, they didn’t claim that the American Church is apostate because it has changed its marriage canons, and they didn’t claim the historic view held by the majority is one universally held, as developments since 2016 have shown. So, while the Primates expressed dismay at the emergence of same-sex marriage in The Episcopal Church, the predominant theme then, as now with Lambeth 2022, is of ‘walking together’. Dr Paul allows the rhetorical moment to get the better of him, and he claims more than the Primates do. Still, he articulates the purist view with skill and passion: there can be no compromise. Changes to the teaching on marriage imply it’s time to walk apart.

    It seems to me that purists want not just to uphold the historic teaching of the church; they want to impose and reassert their view on all Anglicans, whatever position scholarship, prayer and pastoral discernment directs our conscience towards, whatever the historic polity of the Communion allows. Delegitimising sincerely held matters of conscience is as profoundly un-Anglican and un-Reformed as it is unworkable. It is a form of theological totalitarianism.

    Alongside the conservative purists are those who I might describe as principled but pragmatic. Perhaps adopting the wisdom of Gamaliel, these hold their principled opposition to any non-heterosexually married sexual activity, while recognising that progressives are part of the Church of England (and the Anglican Communion) and that they are likely to remain so. For these conservatives, what they are looking for is some form of provision rather than simply suppression of their opponents. For example, take the position of the Church of England Evangelical Council (CEEC) in its 2016 paper Guarding the Deposit. Having first articulated what seems like a purist view, namely a reassertion of traditional sexual ethics while disciplining more effectively those who live outside of this sexual ethic, the author then moves on to what is described as ‘visible differentiation’, an ecclesiological solution in a church which is not prepared to enforce the purist view. This is both principled and at the same time pragmatic, for it opens the possibility that a future Church of England might remain made up of conservatives and progressives, albeit in a very different ecclesiological structure.[1]

    There is much that I baulk at in Guarding the Deposit, ecclesiologically-speaking, although it is interesting to ponder, building on the insightful arguments of Neil Patterson in a recent Via Media article, what ecclesiological compromises could become necessary for progressives if the opportunity to make progress on LGBT+ inclusion genuinely existed. But that is for the future. What I think we can acknowledge, however tenuously, is that the official position of the main Evangelical lobby group in the Church of England can foresee a shape to the Church of England where both conservatives and progressives can ‘walk together’, even if (what I would describe as) progress towards the full inclusion of LGBT+ people were made. I don’t think this has been sufficiently recognised.

    So, if this is the case, I think two clear consequences flow. First, the argument has moved on from purist versus progressive, and there is little value at the moment in progressives in engaging with purists in any meaningful sense. They hold their position with principle and passion, and inevitably they will be a vocal presence in social media. But nothing will satisfy them until people like me change our views, or shut our mouths, or leave our partners, or abandon the ministry of the Church of England altogether. None of that is going to happen, not least because God and his Church keep calling and ordaining LGBTI+ clergy. Purists have nothing to offer the post-LLF church except more conflict. Instead, I think progressives should start treating those who are principled but pragmatic conservatives with greater seriousness and respect, acknowledging their consciences as much as they must acknowledge ours. As we approach the end of the LLF process and are inspired by it, this is where future conversations will need to happen.

    Secondly, and this will be a particular challenge to those who have purist tendencies on the progressive side of the Church, we will have to compromise on what we talk about, how we talk about it and the way we talk about it. Painful and challenging as it may be for us to go through the familiar dissection of our most intimate feelings and sense of ourselves, we have to listen to our principled, pragmatic conservative colleagues without rushing to judgment; we might believe they are wrong, cruel, missionally-misguided or even a safeguarding risk to LGBTI+ people,[2] but just as we find it profoundly upsetting and beyond tiresome to be called sinners by conservatives, they do not find it at all easy to listen to or accept what we say if it is regularly coated with liberal judgmentalism, which is just our more coded way of calling them sinners too. We must learn to talk about what we want and the consequences not just for us but for them, and to explore the sort of issues that emerge for them should LLF produce a more progressive outcome than the current status quo.

    The Good Friday Agreement was an agreement between two parties who were principled and pragmatic, led by Gerry Adams and the late David Trimble; the purists in Northern Ireland, led by Ian Paisley, campaigned vigorously against it, but eventually even they agreed to work within the settlement that emerged and was democratically settled. That is not to say that things are at all easy in the Six Counties, but at least the Armalite has been replaced by the ballot box. Most progressives and principled, pragmatic conservatives probably would live with the ecclesiastical equivalent of a Good Friday Agreement in the Church of England. We certainly need a long-term settlement on which trust can be built.

    So maybe now is the time for the principled pragmatists on both sides to emerge. Perhaps, in God’s mercy, they can be the right men and women, in the right place at the right time too.

     

    [1] It is worth noting that Guarding the Deposit seeks provision for conservatives, which is only one way provision could be made; a wider conversation is necessary – whatever progressives like me want, we recognise that it is not what the Church of England has ever done in the past. It is we who are seeking provision at a different level.
    [2] A matter for safeguarding professionals in my view; being LGBTI in and of itself does not make someone a vulnerable adult.

     

  • Young Adults – The Missing Generation?

    by Annika Mathews, former Church of England Youth Council member and rep on General Synod

    Hi there, young adult Anglican speaking. Who’s that you ask? It’s me, but not just me, as there’s quite a number of us actually if you look more closely! We may seem like a ‘missing generation’ in the Church, but we do exist (including on ‘Anglican Twitter’). You’ll find several of us in the big resource churches or town centre churches which offer not just activities but also pastoral care tailored to us and our needs. Some smaller churches have some young adults too, but many lack 18-35 year olds. The national Vision and Strategy project quite rightly prioritises under-18s and their voices are starting to be heard; see the recent press release on this work given to the House of Bishops) But I believe that the 18-35 age range are just as important to engage, not least as emerging leaders in Church and society with much to contribute in action and word. Some of us will have recently come to faith and need adequate opportunities for discipleship and fellowship.

    At diocesan level, the picture is mixed. Some dioceses have very good provision for young people, including youth councils; for example, Worcester.  Vocationally, things are better. The ministry experience scheme runs for 18-30s and a few new monastic communities, such as the Tree of Life in Leicester, have been a success.

    Nationally, the situation is bleaker. The Church of England lags behind other denominations. Alongside their national engagement with young people, the Catholics have many religious communities holding events for young adults. The United Reformed Church, Orthodox and Pentecostal churches all organise national events for young people. The Methodists have a team engaging with young adults and asking their opinions on aspects of church life, including at their Conference. They run a popular annual event, 3Generate, for young people as well as supporting events like Cliff Fest.

    Yet the C of E used to have a Youth Council (CEYC). Known as its ‘best kept secret’, it was shut down a few years ago, though its memory lives on in this webpage. You can read more about that in the excellent article by Ed Cox here. CEYC had some good support (mostly by Mary Hawes, National Children and Youth Adviser and a few others in the Education Department), but was not allowed to advertise its events through main church comms and the allocated budget was limited.

    As a result, its reach was regrettably small, although like others I benefitted hugely from my time on it. I only found it by chance after seeing an advert for General Synod observers and duly being selected. I then ended up standing as a Youth Rep and joining the core team. Both being on Synod and attending the CEYC residentials helped broaden my knowledge of the diversity within the Church of England and enabled me to worship with and learn from those within completely different traditions to those I was used to. Most importantly, it gave me other young adults to worship with and connect to, as my ‘home’ church at the time had hardly any.

    Although it was never enabled to reach its full potential, the Youth Council occupied an important space in and outside the Church. I gained in leadership and speaking skills and my first months on the Youth Council solidified my desire to be confirmed. Others who attended found or fulfilled their vocational calling in a multitude of directions; some are now clergy. It gave young people a voice at General Synod through elected reps and also had a connection to some other denominations through event exchanges as well as a space on the British Youth Council. Most importantly, the events were run for young people by young people in a peer-for-peer model. With its demise, no national engagement with young people currently takes place.

    A new conference model similar to the Methodists’ provision for young people was briefly proposed but Covid and the restructuring of the NCIs ended that. When the youth reps left at the end of the quinquennium, there was a clear change in the responses given at Synod to questions about provision for young people in Synod representation and beyond. Compare the response to Question 1 from a Synod session in November 2020 (Q1) and those given to Questions 42 and 43 in February 2022. While a few young adults have been elected by dioceses, there are no youth reps anymore on Synod. Yet the Spirit is stirring. The Anglican Communion have just launched the Young Adult Theology project. A small group of young adult Anglicans in the UK meet, network and worship together occasionally online. There is a long running (though invite-only) group for Young Priest Theologians.

    The 2030 Vision and Strategy process includes the decision to ‘grow younger and more diverse’ so there is still some hope that the missing generation will not be forgotten but will be properly included in Church of England structures and decision making, not only as a tokenistic add-on or as staged representatives in church campaigns or staged photo opportunities, as sometimes feels the case (my photo was used to promote the Synod election campaign). Though there has been some great work done by those in the Education Department collating written responses from teenagers at schools on their hopes for the Church, and a few young people joined a fringe group to present their ideas at the February 2022 Synod, it is time to take things up a level and provide more opportunities for young people to interact with the rest of the Church at different levels of its structures (following appropriate safeguarding measures of course). The restructuring of the NCIs meant the loss of two jobs directly connected to young people: will there now be action by the national Church, as well by dioceses and parishes, to engage with young adults? We need to support ideas financially from a marketing and comms perspective to successfully reach the right people. One good place to start is through the National Church connecting more with chaplaincies at universities and colleges.

    National initiatives to engage young adults could include coordinating regional days for Anglicans from different church traditions to come together for fellowship and worship; organising or at least facilitating a pilgrimage or trip to a holy site, either in the UK or abroad – to a retreat house, Taizé or the Holy Land; a presence at Christian festivals like Greenbelt; and more observer and participatory opportunities for young adults on national Church bodies. In particular we need an accessible online space to advertise opportunities for young adult Anglicans; for example, chances to apply to be part of Churches Together Forum, or to steward at World Council of Churches events. I was fortunate to have these opportunities through becoming known on General Synod, but it shouldn’t only be ‘who you know’ which opens doors to these oportunities. We need inclusion, not exclusion. Including all young people (across a whole diversity of identities, a true representation of the body of Christ) is of paramount importance.

    Young people need to be seen as a priority now, valued for their gifts and personalities as well as the prophetic voice they bring to the Church. It will be too late when the Church realises that a dearth of under-35s now will spell a dent in the coffers of parish funds in 20 years’ time.

    Young adult Anglicans exist, and we are watching. We are already joining in with what’s happening on the ground and are keen to partner with the rest of the Church in broadening its reach to more millennials and Gen Z and amplifying their voices and participation in the Church. SOS. Church, listen and respond with urgency now!

     

     

     

  • Living in Love and Faith: The Ozanne Foundation Responds

    Organisations as well as individuals have been invited to share their response to the LLF course, materials and process by 30 April 2022.

    Here is the response of the Ozanne Foundation.

    We write to share our thoughts and reflections on the LLF process and our hopes for the “next steps”.

    1. Overview of LLF

    Whilst we recognise that the LLF was originally conceived as a “necessary step” towards a more inclusive and just Church of England, we question whether the time and money that has been invested in it has been worth the significant harm that it has caused.  This is not least because of the time that it has taken – indeed it is now over five years since the archbishops promised a “radical new Christian inclusion”, a promise that had originally brought hope to so many and yet has now faded to become yet another example of “words not action” for the LGBT+ community.

    It is therefore of no surprise that during the intervening years – where open debate has been stymied within the General Synod and discussions around LLF have been heavily managed – that positions on both sides have hardened.  Sadly, as always, those this has impacted the most are the LGBT+ community, particularly those growing up in certain conservative settings.  Same-sex relationships are still not recognised, our LGBT+ priests are still asked to sign “Issues”, our LGBT+ youth are still taught that they must deny themselves any physical intimacy for life, even if it is lawfully recognised – severely impacting their mental health.  There continues to be no admission of the harm that conservative theology can inflict on those in their “care” and, perhaps most worryingly, there has been little desire by bishops to challenge or chastise those who inflict such harm, allowing them to continue their practices with impunity.  This can be evidenced by the various public letters that many conservatives have signed stating their desire to continue to practice “conversion therapy” and the increasingly hostile rhetoric towards trans people.  Conservative networks and many conservative churches and individuals continue to threaten schism and to withdraw funding, holding their dioceses to ransom.  Meanwhile LGBT+ people, their friends and families have continued to leave quietly – dismayed and disheartened by the lack of any real or meaningful progress.  What is more, we see no evidence that the national conservative networks have engaged with LLF.  Instead, they have publicly promoted the use of their own materials, including the “A Beautiful Story” video, to shore up their positions and underline their homophobic/transphobic doctrine.

    What is most worrying are the stories that we have heard from those LGBT+ church goers who were brave enough to take part in the LLF discussions.  Few found them safe spaces, and most wished afterwards that they had not taken part – even senior LGBT+ clergy.  The Church of England’s “good disagreement” strategy serves only, it seems, its heterosexual cisgendered members, with little thought for those who are most affected by these discussions.  Despite repeated calls to avoid giving equal weight to views on either “side” of the “debate”, given the significant power imbalance that exist and the clear evidence of harm that one side inflicts on the other, the Church of England has continued to push a strategy of “balance”.  In so doing it has lost the trust and respect of a large section of the general public, who look with incredulity at the way the LGBT+ community continue to be treated by a religious organisation whose central message is meant to be that of love and justice.  We are seen, rightly, as hypocrites!

    1. What Next?

    We recognise that we sadly cannot undo the damage that has been done, but we can – we hope – ensure that the next step is one that will lead to concrete decisions, actions and equality.  We cannot continue to objectify and problematise LGBT+ lives, for this has gone on long enough.

    It is clear to most that the only possible way forward is to allow some form of accommodation for those who wish to recognise LGBT+ faithful loving relationships.  This step is now well overdue.  We are well beyond creating a “middle ground” of sanctioning “just” blessings and must now move without delay to a Church that offers marriage to all living in England.  We already have a proven model for accommodating this while respecting individual consciences with the way we have managed marriage after divorce.

    At the same time, however, we are deeply concerned about the continued abuse of LGBT+ people, particularly young LGBT+ people within conservative churches, and the homophobic teaching that they are made to endure, which leads to self-hatred, shame and internalised homophobia – let alone rejection and alienation from their families and friends.  Research shows that this has a significant and lifelong impact on their mental wellbeing and can lead many to consider or indeed to attempt to take their lives.  This spiritual abuse must stop.  For too long the Church of England has turned a blind eye to this abuse and have let the brave testimonies of those who have spoken out go unheeded and unheard.  This lack of resolve to tackle the damage done by conservative theology is deeply inconsistent with the Church’s developing understanding and practice of the importance of safeguarding for vulnerable people and continues to make the Church of England vulnerable to the charge of complicity in abuse.  We therefore urge the Church of England to move swiftly to adopt the Global Interfaith Commission on LGBT+ Lives’ “Safeguarding Principles to Protect LGBT+ Lives” agreed in March 2022 at a conference sponsored by the Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office.

    We hope that you will find these reflections useful and await with interest the publication of a set of proposals from the House of Bishops regarding the way forward, for action is now long overdue.

    Yours sincerely

    Very Revd Joe Hawes, Chair, Ozanne Foundation

    Jayne Ozanne, Director, Ozanne Foundation

    April 27th 2022