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Tag: ordination of women

  • 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.

     

  • The “Failure of the Church”: Why Waiting is Not Neutral

    by Revd Dr Charlie Bell, Fellow at Girton College Cambridge; Assistant Curate, St John the Divine, Kennington 

    ‘Lament and repent of the failure of the Church to be welcoming to LGBTQI+ people and the harm that LGBTQI+ people have experienced and continue to experience in the life of the Church’.

    So began the motion passed by the General Synod in 2023, in relation to the LLF project. Just look at the state of it now. According to Bishop Martyn Snow, in his recent video, ‘We’re still in the process of working with LGBTQI+ people to look at what that apology really means in practice’. So far, not much.

    I am bored writing about LLF. I am sure you are bored hearing about it. And yet here we are, almost two years on from that motion, and we have moved … effectively nowhere. Yes, some prayers have been commended – which was ‘looked forward to’ in that first motion – and that was a real step forward (although, of course, it really just formalised what was already happening in many parishes). But it happened nearly a year ago now, and although the prayers have been approved as a ‘standalone service’ we are being asked to wait to use them until a ‘registration process’ has been set up. Meanwhile, there have been a love-in residential, endless variations on working groups (with precious little new output), and various half-promises made. Folk wanting some progress for LGBTQIA+ people have given of their time and energy again and again. But in terms of actual change brought about for LGBTQIA+ people, let’s be frank – since that motion, there has been effectively nothing. Zero. Nada.

    This is enough of a disgrace in itself that the endlessly dithering House of Bishops should hang their heads in shame. Yet let’s be absolutely up front and frank here – that is not the half of it. Let’s not pretend: we know that there have been votes amongst the bishops to enable clergy to enter same-sex marriages, and those of us in the process know that Archbishop Justin’s comments on sex being for marriage do indeed reflect the general position of the House and College. Against that background, though, the required withdrawal of the nasty little Issues in Human Sexuality (a withdrawal required, let us remember, all the way back in February 2023), still has not happened – which is completely unacceptable. Similarly, all those in the LLF process know that clergy same-sex marriage is a question of when and not if – such has been said to us by staff, by bishops. The idea it won’t happen is ludicrous – and if that does become the plan, then there is no benefit to dragging it out any longer. Yet still, no decision is made – and we are treated like fools, again, and again, and again.

    Indeed, forty-four bishops called for this decision to be implemented ‘without delay’ in November 2023. Funny definition of ‘without delay’, right, a year on – and with the endless can-kicking, wasted time, and – frankly – wasted vocations.

    Because this isn’t an abstract issue. We have potential ordinands, whose call has been blocked by the absolute impediment that they have fallen in love with someone and have formalised it in law. Similarly, bishops are refusing to license clergy in same-sex marriages, all in the middle of a vocations crisis and the scandal of endlessly overworked clergy. Cases from the Diocese in Europe, where some countries don’t provide the option of civil partnerships, show quite how small-minded, absurd, and nasty this policy is in practice. In some places, bishops are quite inexplicably – and viciously – refusing to license lay people in civil marriages to people of the same sex or gender too. Even Issues in Human Sexuality didn’t go that far.

    So we clergy can pray prayers of blessing for others in such relationships but not enter into them ourselves? Similarly, clergy from other provinces of the Anglican Communion in same-sex marriages cannot minister in the Church of England, but clergy from these provinces who have celebrated such a marriage can? What a load of ecclesiological – and queerphobic – nonsense that is. The whole thing is a rotting ulcer at the heart of our church’s polity – and still, nothing is done. Where is the courage? Where, frankly, is our pastoral heart? How long, O Lord? Why is it that we are so expendable – so worthless – so detested? We asked for bread, were promised a stone – and even that is still withheld.

    The truth is, though, that there has been work done, ‘progress’ on LLF – it’s just that this work has nothing whatsoever to do with LGBTQIA people. LLF is no longer about them – about us. It is about those, a small but rich and powerful minority, who wish to exclude them from parts of church life based on their sexual orientation. It has become yet another tool of the powerful over the vulnerable. Just like Jesus always wanted.

    This is not new. Those who ‘couldn’t accept’ the ordination of women as priests and deacons got a nice pay-off as they swam the Tiber. In today’s arguments over other people using prayers and other people getting married, once again the sole focus has been on those who oppose the majority position. Look back over the reams of papers, debates, and ‘solutions’ suggested for our current predicament – how many of them actually mention, let alone prioritise, LGBTQIA people? Hint: not many.

    Those of us in favour of LGBTQIA inclusion seem to be bending over backwards to ensure those who think we aren’t even Christians should be given absolutely everything they claim they need so that they are not stained by our queerness. Adverts from inclusive churches speak of the need for ‘support’ for those who feel ‘disappointment, discomfort, or distress’ about the use of the Prayers of Love and Faith. While it’s surely good that PCCs are discussing where they stand on their use, and complete honesty about this will help people decide whether a church is for them or not, it’s all very one-sided. Meanwhile, there is precisely nothing about the actual LGBTQIA people about whom this project was supposed to be.

    The entire project has become disproportionate without ever moving anywhere near the ‘radical new inclusion’ promised at the outset. All we are doing now is yielding to threat upon threat from the ‘Alliance’, which has a much louder bark than its bite, and in the process chucking more and more LGTBQIA people onto the pile that says: ‘not important enough’. We appear willing to be agents of injustice to protect the powerful who now claim they are being oppressed. It would be laughable if it weren’t so tragic.

    Christians and their churches are known by how they treat their weakest members. Jesus said something about that somewhere. The Church of England is standing at a precipice where it must decide whether it really wants to be known for creating a system that looks after the privileged, or whether it actually wants to embed and live the apology to LGBTQIA people that it so far only claims to believe in.

    This time of treating LGBTQIA people like collateral chaff cannot continue. If the bishops do not have the courage to permit us to enter into same-sex marriages and continue to live out our vocations – vocations that have been acknowledged and affirmed by the church – then it is time for them to admit that. This includes every serving Church of England bishop – every single one of whom, at present, agrees to implement the 2014 voluntary agreement. Similarly, if they want to continue the nonsense of ‘yes at Evensong, no at a standalone’ when it comes to the Prayers of Love and Faith, so be it. If that is the church they are proud to lead into the future, then they should own it.

    That is, of course, the church they currently lead. Waiting is not neutral – it is ongoing structural violence. Deciding not to decide is a decision – a decision to support ongoing injustice, and to say, through their actions, that we are not worth the hassle of making oneself unpopular with one’s sibling bishops. Neither handwringing nor can-kicking, nor hoping it will all go away, nor endless agonising about how difficult it all is, is a Christian virtue.

    And until a single bishop is willing to name this injustice, and then actually act justly, then they can – frankly – keep their apologies.

  • 30 Years, 40 Years: And Not Equal Yet

    by Chris Polhill, one of the first women to be ordained in the Church of England, and author of Through the Gateways of a Garden (2024)

    This September I celebrate 40 years in ministry, first as a Deaconess, then ordained deacon three years later. Seven years after that, I was one of the first women to be ordained priest in the Church of England. So, those quick at maths will see that I have been a priest for 30 years. These anniversaries have left me very reflective about the Church of England.

    To the outsider we can look as though all is well for women in this church. Women are priests, bishops, deans, and one of the three ‘top’ posts, Bishop of London, is a woman. So the CofE looks like an equal opportunities employer, but it is not. Indeed it is exempt from parliament’s Equal Opportunities Act, and this conceals the minefield that has left me reflective, despondent, angry and not quite seeing the way ahead.

    In November 1992 I joined many others standing outside Church House in London while the Church of England General Synod debated and voted on whether the C of E should ordain women as priests. The legislation had already been debated in diocesan synods and passed with a substantial majority, so it was now coming for the main vote at General Synod, needing a two-thirds majority in each of the three Houses: Laity, Clergy and Bishops. Outside the building with us were many journalists from all over the world. I was interviewed for an Australian radio station, and many others contributed to newspaper reports. Women and men from theological colleges stood with a banner saying ‘Waiting’. We sang; we hoped that this time it would be different from the vote in the 1970s; we prayed. And the vote was in favour of women as priests in all 3 Houses by more than the required two-thirds majorities. We sang outside with joy, while inside it was received in silence to respect those who were against the result. “Vicars with knickers” was the Sun’s headline next day.

    We were very firmly told by our bishops that we were not to celebrate as the pain of those who had lost the vote was so great.

    1993 was a difficult year and it was hard to believe that the Church of England had made a positive decision to ordain women. The talk among clergymen seemed to be around how many of their congregation would leave if their woman deacon was ordained priest. Colleagues, my own among them, changed from being positive about women priests to seeing us as a problem. Their feelings, now that women as priests was a real possibility, did not match their thinking when it had only been an idea. “Gut-lag”, we called it. The old boys’ network in both the church and parliament got together and the House of Bishops was focussed on keeping as many clergy from leaving as they could. According to the press, about 1000 had threatened to leave, some taking their congregations with them. The Church agreed to compensate those who left with large sums of money. The Roman Catholic church agreed that married men from the CofE could serve with them as priests, though all who took this path had to go through some further training.

    There are two extremes in the CofE among those who were then, and still remain, against women as priests. There are those who are waiting for the pope to decide about women before they can accept it; this despite the fact that the CofE was formed as a departure from Rome and from having to accept the pope’s decisions. At the other extreme are those who see the Bible’s instructions about male headship as paramount. The pressure from parliament’s Ecclesiastical Committee was for legal safeguards for those opposed to women, and in consequence the CofE is the only province in the Anglican communion that has legal provision for those who will not accept women as priests. The other provinces managed the issue pastorally. The House of Bishops agreed with those who said that they could not accept a bishop who ordained women as priests, and that they were ‘tainted’ by having done so. This led to bishops representing each end of the argument being consecrated, and some diocesan bishops choosing only to ordain deacons so that they could remain a focus for unity in their diocese. I was told this would be a short-term arrangement, but it is a fixture still. This changed the nature of being a bishop, as bishops were never before selected by theological flavour, as it were. I keep having fanciful ideas of poems and bishops and flavours…

    I am seriously angry that the bishops of the time agreed with the idea that ordaining women tainted the bishop who did so. It is very suspect theology. Look at it this way, if a bishop said to a Black man, ‘I’m sorry, but ordaining you will affect me so that I can’t ordain white men as I usually do, they just wouldn’t accept me, and no, I wouldn’t receive communion from you because, for me, only white men can be priests.’ He would rightly be called out for the appalling racism he had expressed, yet put woman instead of Black man, and men instead of white men, and that is exactly what the CofE is practising. Men who think this are still being ordained. No-one seems to acknowledge the misogynistic sexism that the house of bishops agreed to and continues to agree to in the Church of England.

    The Ecclesiastical committee enabled further delays by talking of expediency. Yes, Synod had voted for women as priests but was it an expedient time?!!! However, come 1994, after many letters to MPs, women were ordained and we did celebrate. I was ordained priest in St. Albans Abbey on 23rd April 1994, and St. Albans diocese had a magnificent celebration 30 years on. I loved it. Smiling women led the service in the Abbey, and many people were there to celebrate as it had been well advertised. I caught up with some friends from long ago. It was very different in the diocese where I have served for the last 25 years though, Lichfield. We were prayed for at the clergy conference.

    In the intervening years I, along with many other women, got on with the job and kept my head down. This 30 year anniversary, however, has caused me to revisit the decisions that were made and wonder why they are still there. I would like to see the House of Bishops wake up to what was agreed then; to see the damage it has done to the office of bishop, and to stop making bishops for specific groups. I was shocked to discover we still accept men for ordination who do not think women can be priests, when there are other denominations they could more justly serve. I would love to see the CofE for once lead the society we allegedly serve, in exposing and wiping out misogyny and sexism from every area of life, so women and men can work together as partners in serving the gospel.

  • Crown Nominations Commission Back in the Firing Line

    by Anthony Archer, former member of the General Synod and the Crown Nominations Commission

    There has never been a shortage of armchair commentators on the Crown Nominations Commission (CNC), which started life in 1976 as the Crown Appointments Commission (CAC), a belated recommendation of the 1970 Chadwick Commission Church and State.  In its early years it was lambasted for nominating men in grey suits. When I pointed out that its first handiwork was the nomination in 1977 of Hugh Montefiore to Birmingham, I was reminded that one swallow doesn’t make a summer!

    In the 1980s and 1990s evangelicals (in those days a broad group) moaned about the few nominations being made of episcopal candidates of their flavour. Such redoubtable CAC central members of the day as Viscountess Brentford merely retorted, ‘show us the candidates.’ But the process developed, and the years of Tony Sadler as Archbishops’ Secretary for Appointments gave way to the significant period of service of Caroline Boddington. Paperwork and due diligence improved. General Synod introduced interviews, against the initial advice of the then archbishops. The preferment process generally became more robust; not that every diocesan bishop would necessarily participate by putting names forward.

    Radical change is not a feature of the CNC process. Most has been change imposed from outside. Gordon Brown could not see how a son of the manse should have any involvement in the process. The convention was changed, such that only one name was sent to Downing Street, although it took General Synod some years to catch up with its standing orders. The Lords Spiritual (Women) Act 2015 was a meaningful change, and its provision is soon to be extended.

    But throughout, the process received regular comment, mostly negative, almost certainly because of its perceived secrecy. Yes, it is confidential, as most appointments processes should be, but there is a difference between transparency of process and confidentiality of deliberation.

    And then we come to the current situation, the CNC 2022-2027 quinquennium  (central members are elected by General Synod for five years). I was privileged to serve from 2005-2007 and from 2017-2021. In all, including Dover, I have served on 18 CNCs. We have never failed. Why should we? The Church of England, a very flat organisation structurally, is stuffed with talent, and since 2014 that talent pool for episcopal appointments has theoretically doubled in size. No CNC ever failed until Hereford in 2014. It is probable that that CNC could not agree a second name, which was then fatal to the entire process. But it was possible to meet again quite quickly, and the nomination was resolved. The failure with Oxford in 2015 was more complex. Much got leaked about it. It was not edifying. A dysfunctional CNC apparently managed to promote two women candidates during final voting, neither of whom achieved the required majority of votes. Quite why they were invited for interview, I don’t know. But it was painful, not least for the candidates in question, as it is now.

    What are we witnessing now that has changed? Over the years, the General Synod has managed to elect a ‘balanced ticket’ of central members, more or less. Of six members, two have tended to be evangelical, two liberal catholic, and two traditionalist. Discernment should not be on party lines (the issue at stake here), but diversity of tradition in the central members helps eliminate criticism. The change today is a hugely more polarised General Synod, arguably more right wing (if that is the right term) than the extended 2015-2021 Synod. The new arrangements for electing CNC central members in pairs have not produced the result hoped for. Tribalism has become acute. Of the six ‘pairs’ of central members, fully four consist of members who are either conservative evangelical or traditional catholic. They tend to work together. The CNC arithmetic requires a candidate to obtain 10 votes (out of usually 14). If such a candidate does not find favour with the conservatives, it means that there are always four votes against such a person. That candidate may be a woman and/or hold views supportive of the introduction of LLF prayers (possibly indicative of a view on equal marriage). It requires only one of the diocesan members to side with this group for the candidate to fail. If no other candidate who has been interviewed can secure ten votes, the commission fails entirely. Two have now failed in the space of a year: Carlisle and Ely.

    The bishops (most of them) are incandescent with rage, including the Archbishop of Canterbury. It was his concern during the 2012-2017 CNC quinquennium which led to the magisterial report of Revd Professor Oliver O’Donovan, Discerning in Obedience. But General Synod failed to implement the key recommendations, the abolition of secret voting, and lowering the bar if, after successive rounds of voting, the CNC cannot agree.

    Which takes us to the recent House of Bishops meeting at St Hugh’s College, Oxford. Arriving at the Porter’s Lodge, I was one of the ‘members of the public’ granted a ticket to observe the meeting. A first for anyone. We gathered in an entrance hall. The College of Bishops (all the bishops) had earlier been meeting and had had its own session on the CNC crisis.  They were overrunning.

    We were shepherded in to what was to become a House of Bishops meeting (the diocesan bishops and some elected suffragans). The venue was a large hall. Nothing could have been less like a synod meeting. A hundred or so bishops seated at round tables, most in shirt sleeves, giving the impression of the latter stages of a wedding breakfast, with the bottles of wine (actually water) running out. There was a high table. The Bishop of Winchester presided, in dress-down. The Secretary General of the Archbishops’ Council was immaculate, chinos, sports jacket and tie. The mandatory legal beagle sat impassive.

    We were welcomed. Heads turned. Never before had a meeting of the House of Bishops had to cope with outsiders (at least apart from formally appointed observers). Some five members of the current cadre of CNC central members were present. Four current or former members of the General Synod were there, only one of whom (me!) was a former central member of the CNC. A lay representative of the Ely CNC came. Two members of the press braved the journey to Oxford (best to come by train and walk), being representatives of The Times and the Church Times. The  Church Times devoted a full page to the report, almost missing its deadline for print. The Times was to follow up on its earlier piece in the week with the headline “Church crisis after ‘alarming failure to nominate bishops’.” The BBC website also picked the story up.

    And so, the debate began. It had been called for by some bishops under standing orders, a kind of emergency debate. It was informed by a paper which outlined some solutions to the problems, which had been circulated to General Synod members ahead of the meeting, but which hadn’t been discussed with the current CNC central members. The Bishop of London (in proper clerical dress) introduced the business, an assured and purposeful performance. There were amendments. There always are in General Synod business and in the Houses. Submitting one guarantees you are called to speak. The Bishop of Oxford wanted the House to emphasise its ‘regret’ at the state of affairs. Agreed on a show of hands. The Bishop of Rochester wanted to slow things down: more time for consultation. But he was seen off: this was just kicking the issues into the long grass. What else could be learned that is not already known? He gathered 13 votes in favour of his amendment, but there were 24 against. The Bishop of Oxford then returned with his second amendment. If the CNC fails to agree, leave it to a panel (for example) of archbishops and the five most senior bishops to send a name to the Prime Minister. Well, that would have been red rag to the General Synod bull, likely to be interpreted as an episcopal power grab. It was defeated, but only by 14 votes to 19. To be fair to the Bishop of Oxford, he was just suggesting a pragmatic solution, a last resort process which would concentrate the minds of the members of the CNC.

    And so, we returned to the main motion, amended by the insertion of ‘regretting’ and the deletion of ‘acknowledging.’ What was really happening? At one level, the House of Bishops was doing what it had to under SO3 of its standing orders (don’t get me started). Although it cannot command the General Synod, the proposals it brings to Synod are persuasive, usually.

    A key theme of the debate was whether the House was bringing proposals that merely addressed the symptoms (the failure of the CNC to nominate) or whether it had really dealt with the underlying causes. The Bishop of Bath and Wells took up this theme. But he didn’t seem to acknowledge what was clear from the paper informing the motion, namely a complete failure of some recent CNCs to ‘discern’ a candidate (although some nominations, such as Peterborough and Exeter seemed to have been plain sailing). The meeting saw an impassioned speech from the Bishop of Dover, angry that certain CNC members will only vote for people who ‘interpret the Gospel my way.’ There were some heartfelt contributions from the Bishops of Stepney, Taunton, Peterborough, and Derby. The latter had had to face predictable comment in the Lords recently during the passage of the Lords Spiritual (Women) Act 2015 (Extension) Bill. The Bishop of Gloucester also spoke. It was not lost in the public gallery that more women were called in the debate than men.

    We know (the CNC has become very leaky recently because members and candidates are angry) that certain CNC members are voting purely on tribal lines. We have seen this before, but only now has this faction had the influence to thwart nominations. Frustratingly for them, and a mercy for the Church of England, they do not have the numbers to nominate ‘their own person,’ although they have tried successively. But what they have already achieved (which is wicked) is to provoke some candidates no longer to allow their names to go forward in the present climate.

    The Bishop of London summed up. The motion was convincingly  carried by 27 votes to nine, with three abstentions. The nine votes were assumed to be some of those who voted for the earlier Rochester amendment. Proposals (still to be worked on) will come to General Synod in February 2025, to include removing the secret ballot at CNCs, changing the threshold when the commission can’t agree, and giving the presiding archbishop an additional vote, if needed.

    The battleground will be the secret ballot. It is frankly dishonest to vote to shortlist a candidate who you know you will not vote for at the final meeting, but who otherwise meets the criteria. Worse is the fact that members can block a candidate while being able to deny the fact due to the secret ballot, having possibly made positive comments about the candidate in open discussion. I’ve witnessed this, but not in an environment where it made a material difference to the outcome. There were times during my CNC years when we initially looked as if there might not be 10 votes for a candidate. What did we do? We discussed it. We explained (maybe not all of us) why we had voted as we had, and we listened to others as to why they had voted for another candidate. We reached agreement and voted again. Simple, honest, transparent, prayerful discernment. But it doesn’t suit those who come with their own agenda. And when they are called out they complain that someone has leaked confidential information about this or that CNC.

    General Synod has been here before, but this time it’s serious. The Church of England in general, and the CNC in particular, look a laughing stock to the nation. It should know what it has to do.

     

     

  • Check Complete: Nothing to See Here

    by Rev Martine Oborne, Chair of WATCH (Women and the Church), a group that works for gender equality in the Church of England

    After the publication of a report into the appointment of the Bishop of Blackburn and its implications that has taken almost a year, the Church of England has issued a simultaneous press release headed ‘Independent reviewer upholds appointment process for Bishop of Blackburn.’  Or, in other words, ‘Nothing to see here.’

    Having not seen the report in advance, Women and the Church (WATCH) – which first submitted concerns to the Independent Reviewer, Canon Maggie Swinson, in April 2023 – has taken some time to digest the 45 pages of the report and finds that actually there is quite a lot to see.

    In summary,

    • Swinson flags up that the Church of England has still not done the work that was recommended by her predecessor, Sir Philip Mawer, in 2017 on the theological and pastoral work that urgently needs to be done to take account of the impact on women’s ministries and well-being when they have a diocesan Bishop who is non-ordaining.  The current 2014 House of Bishops Declaration (‘the Declaration’) is one-sided and only concerns itself with protecting the interests of those who do not fully accept women’s ministry.  It makes no provisions or protections for women whose ministries and lives are affected by those who don’t fully recognise them.  Swinson concludes that this work must be done – but, as yet, the Church of England has done nothing about this or stated any intention to do so.
    • Swinson recommends that ‘consideration is given to re-examining the scope of the Independent Reviewer’s jurisdiction’ so that it can consider the concerns and grievances of women and those who do fully accept women’s ministries, rather than just those who do not – as is the current arrangement.
    • She makes recommendations as to how the Vacancy in See Committee might avoid conflicts of interest in the future and make truly ‘safe spaces’ for consultation; and impose a minimum timescale to give proper opportunity for good and thorough consultation.

    Furthermore, although the appointment process may have met the letter of the law, Swinson refers to flaws in the process, and says:

    • In response to concerns about the appointment being rushed through and the process not being well-managed:

    *‘Both the correspondence I received and the conversations I had with individuals involved in the diocese… suggest that there was an actual or perceived sense of time pressure. It is possible that some of the perceived pressure was exacerbated by the language of “jumping the queue” [used in the letter dated 4 April 2022 and sent out by Bishop Jill Duff, Bishop of Lancaster and Chair of the Vacancy in See Committee], what some interviewees understood from comments in meetings, and the Jotform completion time, messaging and deadline.’

    *‘A sense of haste was evident in respect of the consultation.’

     *The letter from Bishop Jill (dated 4 April 2022) which states that the consultation form “only takes five minutes to prayerfully complete” ‘risks trivialising the input.’

    *‘Communications had not been particularly effective in generating awareness or understanding of the [consultation] process.’

    *‘The [consultation] forms did not include a direct question eliciting views on the future bishop’s position on the ordination of women.’

    *‘I recommend consideration of a minimum consultation timescale for the statement of needs as this would have been helpful in allaying time anxiety in this case and could be similarly helpful more generally.’

    • In response to concerns about Bishop Jill having a conflict of interest in chairing the Vacancy in See Committee (she was a colleague of Bishop Philip and known to be supportive of his candidacy; clergy in the diocese could have felt under duress not to oppose her or Bishop Philip):

     *‘The principle of who chairs the Vacancy in See committee would benefit from review in light of the potential conflicts of interest which have been identified here.’

    *‘My conversations leave me in little doubt that the presence of a person who is, in effect, line manager of ordained and some lay attendees and who has an interest in the appointment process because the new bishop will have authority over them, will probably stifle open contribution from those individuals and does not make for a “safe space”.’

    • In response to concerns about the consultation process not asking specifically whether the next bishop should be someone who will or will not ordain women:

    *[It] ‘should be considered – how to ensure there is a conversation in the diocese, not just in the Vacancy in See Committee, to ascertain whether the diocese would welcome a bishop who will ordain women or one who will not.’

    *‘A question for further consideration… is whether dioceses should explain the rationale behind their decision not to express a view [as to whether the next diocesan bishop should be someone who will or will not ordain women].’

    • In response to concerns about appointing diocesan bishops who do not ordain women, without the Church of England having implemented the recommendations of the Independent Reviewer following his review of the nomination to the See of Sheffield (the Sheffield Report) and recommendations of the Implementation and Dialogue group (IDG):

    *‘I recommend that resource is identified to take the necessary theological work forward alongside the theological reflection requested in the report of the IDG.’

    *‘It would not be unreasonable to expect that some review mechanism should be available to those whose ministry the bishop does not accept. Such a mechanism should not isolate female clergy from the life of the diocese but should provide for them in a reciprocal manner to the review arrangements already articulated in the Declaration.’

    Overall, Swinson’s report is gently excoriating.  She affirms that the process for the Bishop of Blackburn’s appointment, while flawed, was in line with regulations.  She also affirms Mawer’s observation and concern that the Declaration and role of the Independent Reviewer are one-sided and there is nowhere for women to go within the Church of England with their concerns and grievances relating to the Declaration.  While she says that pragmatically she does not support a moratorium on the Church of England continuing to appoint more diocesan bishops who are do not ordain women, work needs to be done to understand the consequences of this policy.

    She states that the Church of England is not required to consult with campaign groups like WATCH about the arrangements it makes for the ministries of women. But, unfortunately, she includes NADAWM as also being unnecessary for consultation. NADAWM is the National Association of Deans of Women’s Ministry and exists to communicate between female clergy and bishops about the lived experience of women in ministry. They are not a campaign group. We feel, therefore, that a further recommendation should be made that NADAWM is consulted in the process of implementing the recommendations of Swinson’s important and considered report.

    The matters raised are not abstract theological arguments but impact on the lives of women in both ordained and lay ministry. The continued unfairness in the Church of England creates an unjust and unsafe environment for the many women who continue to work so hard and graciously in all our dioceses.

     

     

     

     

     

  • Posing a Problem: Not Equal Yet

    by Ruth Harley, curate in the Watling Valley Ecumenical Partnership

    “When you expose a problem, you pose a problem.” So writes Sara Ahmed in her book Living a Feminist Life. Ahmed is talking about that phenomenon, well known to many of us, by which the person who names a problem within an institution, group or culture, becomes seen as the source of the problem. It happens to black people exposing racism, to women exposing misogyny, to disabled people exposing ablism, to LGBTQ+ people exposing homophobia and transphobia, indeed to any person naming a dynamic to which the institution would prefer to remain oblivious.

    It happens to women when we expose misogyny and sexism in all sorts of places: in the academy, which is Ahmed’s context, in the workplace, in our communities, our families and, yes, in our churches. It is so much easier to say that the problem is these uppity women who won’t shut up and be grateful for what they’ve got, rather than to confront the underlying and persistent inequalities which they are naming. (“Easier for whom?” we might ask.)

    To say, 30 years on from the ordination of the first women as priests in the Church of England, that women are still not equal yet in the church is to expose a problem. But it is also to state a fact. The statistics back it up: in the most recently available set of ministry statistics, just 33% of stipendiary clergy are women, and women continue to be under-represented in senior roles, with just 7 women out of 42 diocesan bishops. Women’s experiences back it up too, though that hard-won knowledge and wisdom is rarely afforded the respect or consideration it is due.

    Indeed, that women in the Church of England are not equal yet is enshrined in the legislation of the church, in the form of the House of Bishops Declaration on the Ministry of Bishops and Priests (GS Misc 1076) which, among other things, introduced the Five Guiding Principles. There are churches in which women are prohibited from presiding at the altar. There are no churches in which men are prohibited from presiding at the altar. We are not equal yet.

    But to say that, to state that women are not equal yet (in this and so many other ways) will always attract a hostile response. Why can’t we just be grateful for what we’ve got? Why do we have to make everything about gender? What about the feelings of those who can’t or won’t accept our ministry? Why can’t we just be kind?

    This is exactly the sort of response Sara Ahmed predicts: “When you expose a problem, you pose a problem. It might then be assumed that the problem would go away if you would just stop talking about it, or if you went away.” But of course, that is not true. If we never spoke about it, the problem would still remain. But those who are unaffected by the problem would be allowed to preserve the privilege of their obliviousness. They would not be confronted with the problem. The problem would persist, but the burden would be carried only by those who do not have the luxury of being able to choose to ignore it: in this case, women.

    So we must speak. We must say what we know to be true. Women are not equal yet in the Church of England.

    And we must say other things we know to be true too. Women are made, equally with men, in the image of God. The subjugation of women is not the will of God. The body of Christ is damaged when women are not able to exercise their God-given gifts and vocations. The fact that women are not equal yet is not just a problem for women, but for the whole church. And it is not only an ethical problem, but also a theological and ecclesiological one.

    Women are not equal yet. And that is a problem. Like any problem, it will not be solved by being hidden away. It can only be addressed by being brought into the light, spoken about openly and without fear. The Not Equal Yet conference organised by WATCH, aims to do just that: to state openly that women are not equal yet. And to ask what we, as a church, are going to do about it.

    We have to be able to have that conversation, however difficult or painful it might be. To expose a problem is to pose a problem. But I would rather pose a problem, than persist in the lie of pretending that there is no problem here to be exposed.

    It is obvious already from conversations online and offline that even to have the conversation, even to state the truth that women in the Church of England are not equal yet, evokes angry and defensive responses from some. That should not deter us. As Jesus said: “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” And as Gloria Steinem said: “The truth will set you free. But first, it will piss you off.”

    Exposing the truth of women’s inequality in the church is a vital step toward ending that inequality. And a church in which women and men are equal, a church which reflects the equality of people of all genders in God’s sight, is good and liberating news for all.

    To expose a problem, to pose a problem, is hard. It is hard to make ourselves so exposed by admitting the truth: that we are not equal yet. The naming of truth is hard and holy work. And it is necessary work, in order to live ever more fully in the way of Jesus, who was never afraid to name the hard and exposing truths of injustice, and in order to bring God’s church ever closer to embodying the justice of God’s kingdom.

     

     

  • Doing A New Thing? The Ordination of Women and Same-Sex Love

    by Evan McWilliams; brought up in conservative evangelical non-conformity, he is now Associate Vicar at St Mary Abbots in Kensington

    I was thirty-two years old and a deacon when it first occurred to me that the creation story in Genesis might be a myth. Raised on a heady mixture of evangelical piety and Reformed biblical interpretation, the idea that the biblical text might be something other, or indeed something more, than merely a pure historical account took a while to form itself in my mind. Similarly, the thought that the well-known phrase ‘for this reason a man will leave his father and mother and cleave to his wife’ should be that of a later commentator and not of a contemporaneous narrator took some time to percolate.

    English evangelicals by and large seem unflustered by the mythological character of the creation narrative, and their embracing of the ordination of women suggests a certain freedom in interpreting the nature of the male/female relationship in Genesis where, for someone of my background, woman could only ever be ‘helpmeet’ to her dominant, if complementary, husband.

    Likewise, the epistolary injunctions that women should ‘remain silent’, ‘not exercise authority over a man’, and that church leaders should be ‘husband of one wife’ and, therefore, implicitly male, have been taken with a pinch of salt. These hermeneutical moves have opened the way to an impressive range of female evangelical clergy, respected writers, and authorities of all kinds in the Church of England. The blessing of their presence is readily apparent.

    For this reason, I find it strange that so many mainstream evangelicals remain opposed to the acceptance of same-sex relationships and the prospect of same-sex marriage in church. The necessary work of reinterpretation and re-application has already been done. Genesis’s transformation from a historical text, ostensibly proclaiming an immutable cosmic order of masterful husband and subservient-though-cherished ‘bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh’, to a wise human origin story outlining the complexity of lived relationships with which we are all familiar is now a commonplace. It is rare to hear of the wedding in which a blushing bride promises ‘to love, cherish, and obey’ her husband, despite what St Paul might have written to the church at Ephesus.

    To one raised to conceive of theology as systematic in nature and the scriptures as containing a discernible and cohesive structure for human flourishing, this feels like something of a fudge. Either one is obedient to the clear words of scripture or one is not. But perhaps something more significant has happened here than betrayal of an inherited theological system. Perhaps evangelical theology and practice has discovered what was there all along, hidden beneath the surface of societally-constructed, and historically contingent, relationships between men and women.

    That a new thing to us may well be what the Holy Spirit of God intended all along is what the Church of England proclaimed when it finally freed women to make an equal contribution to the life of the church as ordained priests in 1994. This being so, I find something missing in the evangelical response to the prospect of same-sex marriage. What I find missing is not so much theological consistency, but a willingness to consider that the God who does new things might be doing so again. And this in the face of profound personal and collective evidence that the word of God is something greater than the sum total of the words on the page.

    If one can discover, woven through the scriptural language of male headship, the fundamental equality of women in both the home and the Church, can it really be that difficult to discern the potential goodness of lasting same-sex support, love, and affection? Whatever St Paul may have said about his age’s conception of homosexual activity, might we find in, around, and under his words a greater spiritual word able to shape and transform what was conceived of as abusive and imbalanced into something gentle and edifying?

    Now that the helper for Adam has become his equal and, increasingly often in the Church of England, his bishop, is it entirely unreasonable to hope that those who find themselves inexorably drawn to love someone of the same gender might at last find public solace in the words of the Prayer Book Marriage Service which proudly proclaims one central purpose of marriage to be the ‘mutual society, help, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity’?

    It was not easy for many in the Church of England to accept a new interpretation of familiar texts. And some still do not do so. But the lesson we have all learned is that to stand still and do nothing when the ground is shifting under our feet risks confusion, disunity, and falling behind the plan that God has for the Church. Furthermore, refusing to acknowledge that change of a theological nature has already occurred, and to pretend that we have not begun to read the scriptures in a different way, comes across as simply churlish when what is asked for by so many faithful Christians is simply what has already been given to others.

    It is laudable to want to preserve inviolate the institutions one has inherited, and the Institutional Church is truly a mystery not lightly altered. But to make so great a change as ordaining women to its highest offices and then to refuse to use the same theological processes to enable same-sex love to flourish within the bounds of Holy Matrimony feels not only hypocritical but deeply ungenerous.

  • Equality, Parliament, and the Established Church:  Some Recent Close Encounters

    Revd Canon Dr Judith Maltby is Chaplain, Fellow and Dean of Welfare of Corpus Christi College, Reader in Church History in the University of Oxford, and a member of the General Synod of the Church of England

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

    In February 2023, the General Synod of the Church of England debated and passed by a sizeable majority a paper from the House of Bishops which is intended to move the needle in a positive direction towards equality for LGBT+ people.  Such reform impacts on laypeople and clergy active within the Church but also on the wider public the Established Church seeks to serve, chiefly through the parochial system and sector chaplaincies. This wider public turn to the Church for food banks, youth work and elder care and at key ‘life events’, or ‘occasional offices’ of baptism, marriage and funerals. Marriage, of course, is at the heart of the issue. The House of Bishops’ proposals to Synod in February were the result of a lengthy six-year process known as Living in Love and Faith. I know it was a lengthy and careful process – I was a member of one of LLF’s working groups.

    In February, before Synod, a group of about a dozen cross-party Parliamentarians met with Archbishop Justin. It was, according to the Guardian and Telegraph, a heated meeting, at which Parliamentarians ‘threatened’ disestablishment if the Church did not change its position to allow equal marriage. The Telegraph reported that ‘the Archbishop of Canterbury has vowed that he will not be told what to do by MPs over blessings for same-sex couples’. Later that month, while at the global Anglican Consultative Council meeting in Ghana, the BBC reported that the Archbishop spoke of being ‘“threatened with parliamentary action” in an attempt “to force same-sex marriage” into the Church of England’.

    There is a lot of alleged ‘threatening’ going on by MPs as well as the implied criticism that Parliamentarians were somehow out of line to take a genuine interest in how the Established Church serves the nation. I would like to put the Archbishop’s remarks into historical context in terms of the relationship between Parliament and the Established Church of England. I am principally a historian of the 17th century, but you will be relieved that I only want to go back about 30 years to another significant equality issue in which Parliament and Church interacted: the ordination of women to the priesthood in the early 1990s and the consecration of women as bishops in the 2010s.

    In 2011, I co-edited a collection of essays with two other Oxford colleagues, called The Established Church:  Past, Present and Future.  The book came out of a day conference on the same topic. I am a cradle Anglican but moved to England from the United States in 1979 to begin doctoral studies and have lived here ever since. In my 20s and even into my 30s, I thought Church Establishment to be frankly bizarre – who wouldn’t coming from abroad? But over the years, I have become a ‘critical convert’ to it. The day conference came about because whenever I heard a bishop on the radio defending establishment, I wanted to dis-establish it. Surely, there were more robust and creative ways to understand the public good of Establishment than the tired truisms that get trotted out. That is what we set out to do, though not all the contributors were of one mind on the subject.

    My own chapter looked at gender and Establishment. The research was prompted by an exchange in Synod in 2010, rather like the one I started with, between the new Second Church Estates Commissioner, Tony Baldry, MP and the then bishop of Durham, Tom Wright. Baldry, characteristically, gave Synod some nuanced and honest advice that the Commons would look dimly on a measure to consecrate women as bishops that was discriminatory – that is, that treated bishops who were women differently than bishops who were men. Tom Wright, in his last speech before resigning his see, attacked Baldry in the chamber, claiming that he had said (which Baldry had not) something like ‘the political winds were blowing this way, and so the church had better get in line’. With rhetorical flourish, Wright said: ‘The day the Church ceases to be able to say we must obey God rather than human authority will be the day it ceases to be the Church.’ His remarks were greeted by thunderous applause in the Synod chamber as it is a statement, on face value, pretty much impossible for any Christian to disagree with.

    As I said, this exchange was the motivation for my own chapter in the book. I had a sense, although I had never explored it in detail, that the creation of Provincial Episcopal Visitors (or ‘Flying Bishops’ as they have come to be known) was the result of pressure from the Ecclesiastical Committee of Parliament, as it was not part of the Synodical Measure that passed Synod in November 1992.

    Some of you, like me, will remember that momentous vote in 1992 in General Synod, approving the ordination of women to the priesthood.  The 1992 Measure certainly did not treat women priests equally with their male counterparts. It:

    • Exempted women clergy from any protection provided by the 1975 Sex Discrimination Act
    • Created Resolutions A and B ‘to protect’ parishes from women clergy
    • Explicitly excluded women from the episcopate
    • Guaranteed that no bishop would be ‘forced’ to ordain women
    • Provided financial provision to ‘compensate’ male clergy who felt they needed to leave the Church because of the ordination of women to the priesthood

    You might think that that was quite enough compromise and ‘protection’ for opponents.

    And you might also be thinking, there is no mention whatsoever here of Flying Bishops – an invention entirely without historical precedent to address an issue on which Anglicans were not of one mind. There is a very, very long list of things about which Anglicans are not of one mind, but never before has an episcopal sub-structure been created to meet the needs of a particular theological constituency.(1)  And what a dangerous precedent it set for dealing with disagreement as we now see attempts to apply the model to other theological disputes.

    Where did this theological and ecclesiological innovation come from? Well, Parliamentarians, I hate to tell you, it came from you. Hours spent on Hansard, which in 2010 had the slowest search engine I’d ever come across:  there it all was in the proceedings of the Ecclesiastical Committee, a committee of both Houses, whose job it is to decide whether a Synodical Measure is ‘expedient’ to go to the Commons and Lords for approval.

    A cross-party group of MPs, chiefly Frank Field, Simon Hughes, Patrick Cormack, and John Selwyn Gummer pushed for even greater concessions to those opposed to the ordination of women than were already in the Measure. In fact, the vast majority of time spent by the Ecclesiastical Committee in 1993 was on how to provide even more ‘safeguards’ for those opposed to women in the priesthood. Such involvement by Parliamentarians was entirely appropriate, as Frank Field maintained, as it was part of their:

    … function as parliamentarians … to protect the interests of constituents who may be adversely affected by a [Church] Measure …. we are quite rightly … much concerned with, and will no doubt spend much time on, how the position of minorities is protected.(2)

    Going back to this material recently to prepare this piece, I was struck by the extensive use by Parliamentarians in the early 1990s of ‘safeguarding’ language – that male clergy might somehow be ‘victims’ of some sort of ‘abuse’ merely by the existence of women clergy. It is very chilling language now in the light of the recent series of catastrophic and real safeguarding failures in the Church that are piling up. But in the early 1990s, while Bishop Peter Ball was committing terrible abuse, somehow it was women priests who were seen as the people from whom other Church members needed ‘safeguarding’.

    The bishops, I’m afraid, caved in to this Parliamentary pressure and these ‘threats’ and produced the Act of Synod of 1993, putting it in place for the Ecclesiastical Committee to deem it expedient for the Measure to go to Parliament for a vote in October and November 1993. The Measure passed handsomely – 10:1 in the Commons and 7:1 in the Lords – and several hours of parliamentary time was set aside for debate. Thanks to the Ecclesiastical Committee, even more ‘safeguarding’ was provided and the equality of women clergy even more eroded. Both Field and Hughes spoke in the debate in the House, proudly outlining how the Ecclesiastical Committee had been key in the creation of Flying Bishops.

    I have time to touch only briefly on women in the episcopate, but we can see significant culture change from the early 1990s to the early 2000s. MPs used Early Day Motions from the early 2000s onwards to raise the question, with increasing impatience, of when the country can expect the Established Church to have women bishops. In their remarks, MPs often praised the public good provided by the Church’s parochial system and the women priests who were serving the wider community through it.

    Reflecting on this history challenges any notion that Parliamentarians taking an interest in the affairs of the Established Church is in anyway improper or unusual in the modern era. In the early 1990s, Parliamentarians ensured there was even more discriminatory provision against women priests and gave us Flying Bishops. By the early 2000s, MPs were repeatedly raising questions about the exclusion of women from the episcopate of the Established Church. You will remember the outcry in the Commons when the Measure narrowly failed to achieve a two-thirds majority in the House of Laity in 2012.   As the Church of England obsesses with its narrative of decline and lack of relevance, it is ironic that when the members of the public legislature of the country actually take an interest in the Church because they believe it to matter, such interest is perceived as ‘interference’ and ‘threatening’. In a way, I agree with Frank Field when he said it was their function as Parliamentarians:  ‘… to protect the interests of constituents who may be adversely affected by a [Church] Measure’.(3)

    In 1993, the ‘interests of constituents’ were understood to mean providing yet more discriminatory measures against women. In the past 20 years or so, the attention of MPs to ‘the interests of [their] constituents’ is about promoting equality in the way the Established Church orders its life and serves the wider community. The modern relationship of Parliament and the Church of England is more complicated than accusations of ‘threatening’ behaviour support.

    Notes
    (1) See Judith Maltby, ‘One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism, but Two Integrities?’ in Monica Furlong, ed, Act of Synod or Act of Folly?: Episcopal Ministry Act of Synod 1993 (SCM Press, 1998).
    (2) Reports of the Ecclesiastical Committee, p. 64 (19 April 1993).
    (3) Reports of the Ecclesiastical Committee, p. 64 (19 April 1993).
    Further reading
    Judith Maltby, ‘Gender and Establishment:  Parliament, “Erastianism” and the Ordination of Women 1993-2010’ in Mark Chapman, Judith Maltby & William Whyte, eds, The Established Church:  Past, Present and Future (T&T Clark, 2011).

  • Equal Marriage: The Argument Has Moved On…

    by the Revd Neil Patterson, Director of Vocations & Ordinands in the Diocese of Hereford and Chair of the General Synod Gender & Sexuality Group

    Readers of this blog may recall that in 2021 I wrote about the motion passed by Hereford Diocesan Synod in 2017 calling for services of prayer and dedication for same-sex couples, and the possible ways in which it might lead to a diversity of practice in the Church of England.  The idea has received a decent amount of comment, both positive and negative, but I returned from the recent General Synod at York wondering if everyone has now moved on to a different page.  Increasingly it feels as if everyone wants to talk about marriage, whether its unchangeability, or that it should be opened to same-sex couples.  There are many aspects to this, but I want to mention just three, and then consider where this may lead us as a Church.

    The first is that the social backdrop to our discussions has changed.  Same-sex marriage has only been a legal reality in England since 2014, and even when the Hereford motion was in the planning, it still seemed to at least some of us that same-sex relationships were not quite the same as marriages, whether from tradition or familiarity with the ‘similar-but-different’ civil partnerships.  Now, however, the language of marriage for same-sex couples – including the easy use of ‘husband’ and ‘wife’ – has become completely normalised in society and the media.  In itself that does not, of course, have any specific consequences for Christians judging what is right in the sight of God.  But it does mean that the existing rich Christian imagery of marriage as the form of permanent covenant, symbolising God’s faithfulness to his people, now appeals naturally as a way to express the faithfulness of Christian same-sex relationships.  And this is all the more so when, as in the gay male world, monogamous faithfulness can sometimes appear a minority option.

    The second related shift arises from reflections I have heard on the Hereford motion proposal.  On the one hand, there is a fear that in a politically difficult and divided Church, if it were to be approved, it would – like other settlements in the past – prove difficult to move on from, leaving same-sex partnered Anglicans in England trapped in permanent second-best.  On the other hand, precisely because it would seem unsatisfactory, the Church could be trapped in ongoing years of wrangling between those seeking, and those opposing, further change.  The official recognition (even if not ‘blessing’, as the motion makes clear) of a class of relationships outside marriage also raises wider questions.  Perhaps raising these questions is not the best way towards stability and the much-needed focus on mission and growth in the Church.  Both these two shifts of emphasis were evident in a fringe meeting at Synod of the Gender and Sexuality Group of those campaigning for change, and I write about them here to share the listening from that meeting and continue the dialogue.

    One of the benefits of General Synod, though, is the chance to talk with those from other viewpoints whom one knows through unrelated connections like (in my case) discernment work, or revising legislation.  Some of those I talked to are connected to the Church of England Evangelical Council, who have set out in public papers on their website their arguments against any recognition of same-sex relationships by the Church.  The striking thing, both from these conversations and their most recent film output, is that they do not see the compromise of some sort of service for same-sex couples as particularly helpful.  If the Church recognises same-sex sexual relationships in any way, then that is the conscience-invoking point for them.  Such relationships might as well be marriages as anything else, and indeed if they were marriages then this would avoid the complexity of recognising a different category of relationships, a category that would complicate expectations for opposite-sex couples.  Of course their strongest conviction is against any official recognition of same-sex couples at all.

    What does this mean for the outcome of the Living in Love & Faith process?  Well, it means that the bishops, meeting residentially three times in the autumn, probably have a headache.  But it may mean that, somewhat to my own surprise, the debate is shifting: it is not about how the Church of England will recognise same-sex couples, but about when it will allow equal marriage.  The headache, though, is how to make that possible for those of us who seek it (both for ourselves and for the Church) and those whose consciences will not allow it.  A helpful comment from one of my conservative colleagues was that, as a minister, he believed that he had a duty to teach that same-sex relationships were not only something undesirable which he would not want to do, or have in his church, but that they are positively harmful.  I disagree, obviously, but that is not going to make any difference to his convictions.  The challenge is to consider what degree of fellowship would be possible from such a stance with those of us adopting equal marriage.

    My sincere hope is that we can learn from the 1980s, when very much the same questions arose around the ordination of women, and spend fewer years struggling to find a solution which is comparably unsatisfactory for all concerned.  The controversy today about the draft Lambeth Call is also a reminder that whatever path we take, we do so against an established diversity in the Anglican Communion. Whatever contribution they make to the debates at Lambeth, I pray that the bishops of the Church of England will return to the task in the autumn renewed in the value of diversity, and ready to seek a way forward with imagination and vigour.