by the Revd Robert Thompson, Vicar St Mary’s, Kilburn & St James’, West Hampstead; host of Open Table, London; member of General Synod

Walking together requires more than making space for disagreement.
Earlier this week I had the privilege of drafting, on behalf of more than eighty members of the Houses of Clergy and Laity of the General Synod, a letter to the Presidents asking them to exercise their powers under the Church of England’s Fringe Meetings and Displays Policy to withdraw approval for the proposed fringe meeting People Change: Sexual Identity Transformation and its associated exhibition stand before Synod meets in York. This fringe and stand involve speakers from groups who claim to change people’s sexual attraction.
This letter, shared here, simply asks constitutional, safeguarding and governance questions about the presence of the meeting and the exhibition stand. It is my understanding that only the Archbishops as Presidents can intervene in a situation in which many members believe that the common life of General Synod itself is at stake.
As I found myself drafting that letter, however, I became increasingly convinced that the questions it raises go beyond what is constitutional or political. While our debates about sexuality take place, what is General Synod becoming?
Ecclesiology: what is our body?
The real issues are ecclesiological. While that word can sound like an abstract branch of theology, every decision the Church makes about authority, safeguarding, worship, disagreement and belonging reveals something about what it believes the Church itself to be. Ecclesiology is the shape our common life takes. So the question before us goes beyond whether one particular fringe meeting should proceed. It’s about the kind of Body we are becoming, and how our understanding of the Church shapes the way authority is exercised, disagreement is held and every baptised Christian is enabled to participate fully in the common life of Christ.
I write not only as the lead signatory to the letter but also as a priest of the Church of England who is also gay and in a partnership. In September, we celebrate our 18th year together. I do not simply accept my sexual orientation, nor have I merely made peace with it after years of struggle: I receive it with gratitude as one of God’s gifts. It has shaped my vocation, enlarged my compassion and deepened my understanding of the Gospel. It has taught me something about exclusion, dignity, grace and the Christ who is so often encountered among those whose place within the community has been questioned. I believe that my priesthood has been enriched, not despite being gay, but partly because of the particular experiences through which God has formed me. That has been further intensified by being in a long-term loving relationship.
Dignity and participation
Over recent days I have also heard from a significant number of sibling queer clergy and lay members of General Synod. Not all of them agreed about the best response to this situation; not wanting to write a letter, or wanting stronger language or a different strategy. Yet beneath those differences one theme emerged with striking consistency. Several people told me that the approval of both this fringe meeting and, particularly, the accompanying exhibition stand had left them questioning whether they could arrive in York with the same sense of safety, dignity and belonging as every other member of General Synod. They spoke not in the language of ideology but of participation: whether they could enter the shared spaces of Synod without anxiety, contribute freely to debate and trust that their very presence would not itself become the subject of debate. Those are not peripheral concerns. They go to the heart of whether Synod is experienced as an expression of the Church’s common life. Quite simply, can they move through the shared life of General Synod, its worship, corridors, exhibition spaces, cafés and informal conversation, without reasonably experiencing themselves as the object of theological intervention?
I understand these concerns because, for me, this is not an abstract discussion. On two previous occasions at York I left General Synod early and completed my work online after being approached by individuals who asked whether I wanted to “become a Christian”. I have no reason to doubt that those conversations were offered sincerely or prayerfully. Nevertheless, they fundamentally altered the way in which I experienced Synod. Instead of simply participating in the Church’s discernment, I found myself unexpectedly defending the legitimacy of my own faith, vocation and ministry within the very community whose life I had come to share. Those encounters were fleeting, but they have remained with me because they revealed how easily the culture of the Church can fail to reflect the theology the Church professes.
It was through that lens that I first read in the list of fringe meetings the title People Change: Sexual Identity Transformation. My first reaction was not anger but sadness. I come to General Synod expecting robust disagreement. I expect to hear arguments that I believe to be profoundly mistaken. I expect to debate legislation, doctrine, mission, finance, worship and ethics with people whose theological conclusions differ radically from my own. All voices belong in Synod. That is part of the discipline of belonging to a Church that has chosen not to divide.
But I am a person, not an abstract theological point. What troubles me is the impression that the person God has called to priesthood and elected to General Synod is, by virtue of who I am, someone who ought fundamentally to become somebody else. That moves the discussion from debating ideas to experiencing sibling members themselves as the object of transformation.
One way of testing whether this is truly an ecclesiological principle, rather than a special plea about sexuality, is to ask the same question of any other group already gathered within the Body of Christ at General Synod. Replace the phrase “sexual identity transformation” with the identity of another group of Synod members – women priests, disabled Christians, or Christians from particular ethnic communities – and ask whether the Church would regard such a fringe meeting or exhibition stand as raising questions about its common life.
As members of General Synod we are bishops, clergy and lay people who worship together, receive the Eucharist together and seek together to discern the mind of Christ. The quality of that common life is one of the principal concerns of ecclesiology.
Matters of Policy
The Fringe Meetings and Displays Policy requires organisers to abide by the General Synod Members’ Code of Conduct, the House of Bishops’ safeguarding policies and the University of York’s own policies on freedom of speech and equal opportunities. It reserves to the Business Committee and the Presidents the right to refuse space where they judge that a fringe meeting would be contrary to the ethos of the Church of England, damage its reputation or be inconsistent with House of Bishops’ safeguarding guidance.
By including displays, it covers all those informal spaces in which members meet, converse, encounter one another and seek together to discern the mind of Christ. Ordering those spaces, too, is part of the Church’s ecclesiology.
If we look at General Synod’s own previous decisions, in July 2017 Synod overwhelmingly endorsed the Memorandum of Understanding on Conversion Therapy, affirming that gay conversion therapy “has no place in the modern world”, is “unethical”, “potentially harmful” and “not supported by evidence”. It also called upon the Church to be sensitive to contemporary expressions of gender identity and called upon the Government to ban conversion therapy. Whatever theological disagreements remained – and remain – they did not prevent Synod reaching institutional conclusions about practices which it believed to be harmful. Those commitments now form part of the context within which later administrative decisions should properly be made.
Nor is the 2017 motion the only relevant context. Through the Living in Love and Faith process the Church has repeatedly acknowledged the hurt experienced by LGBTQIA+ people and has commended prayers which include a corporate lament and repentance for the ways in which they have been treated in the life of the Church. Those prayers represent an institutional recognition that our common life has, at times, failed to reflect the dignity of those who are already members of the Body of Christ. That acknowledgement should surely inform the way we order our common life today.
One of the gifts of Christian ecclesiology is that it teaches us to begin not with categories but with calling. Before we are anything else, we are those who have been baptised into Christ and called into his Body. We remain women, men, trans, gay and straight, disabled and non-disabled, people of every race and culture. None of those realities disappears. Yet the Church’s first question is never simply, “Who are you?” It is, “To whom do you belong?”
Some readers may nevertheless object that Christianity is, after all, a religion of transformation. Of course it is. Every one of us is called to repentance, to holiness, to become more fully conformed to Christ, the One into whose death and resurrection we have been baptised. It is not a movement away from the person whom God has called into discipleship, but the fulfilment of that calling in Christ. The call to holiness is not a call to erase the self but to allow the self to be transfigured by grace.
This conviction lies at the heart of Paul’s ecclesiology in the First Letter to the Corinthians. In chapter 12 Paul reminds the Church that it is not simply an association of people who happen to share certain beliefs. In the Body of Christ, and every baptised member is indispensable to its life. Those members of the Body who appear weaker are indispensable, and those parts that seem less honourable are to be treated with greater honour. Paul’s point is not merely that diversity should be tolerated. It is that our primary identity rests not in ourselves but in our incorporation into Christ. Ecclesiology begins not with agreement but with baptism.
That, I suggest, is the theological framework within which the present controversy should be understood. The issue is not simply how General Synod manages disagreement. The issue is whether the structures, decisions and culture of Synod reflect the reality that we already belong to one another because we belong to Christ. Because our meetings are set in the context of prayer and worship, the culture of Synod matters every bit as much as its procedures, because it is part of the Church’s public witness to the Gospel.
Safeguarding
And what about safeguarding? The Fringe Meetings and Displays Policy allows intervention if “the subject matter of the fringe meeting or display, or the presence or other involvement of any person at the fringe meeting or display, would be inconsistent with the guidance issued by the House of Bishops on matters relating to the safeguarding of children and vulnerable adults”. This is because safeguarding belongs to the Church’s common life; it, too, is an ecclesiological practice. It is one of the ways in which the Body of Christ learns to honour the dignity, vocation and belonging of every one of its members. More than that, safeguarding is not simply about protecting vulnerable people. It is about protecting the integrity of the Body of Christ.
Impaired communion
There is another irony which has increasingly struck me as I have reflected on these events. Some of those associated with the theological movements represented by this fringe have, for reasons of conscience, already decided that they cannot always share fully in the sacramental life of General Synod. They absent themselves from Eucharists at which they cannot receive Holy Communion or recognise the ministry of those presiding. I respect the seriousness with which those convictions are held, even though I profoundly disagree with them. Yet they also expose the deeper ecclesiological question before us. If we have become accustomed to forms of impaired communion within our sacramental life, we should be especially careful not to deepen those fractures within the wider common life of Synod.
Paul returns to these themes in 1 Corinthians 11, where his concern is not simply the manner in which the Eucharist is celebrated but the failure of the Christian community to discern the Body. Too often those words have been heard solely in relation to the sacramental bread and wine. Yet Paul’s rebuke is directed equally towards a community whose divisions prevented it from recognising the Body of Christ present in one another. Eucharistic theology and ecclesiology cannot be separated. The tragedy of General Synod is that we are becoming accustomed to living with forms of impaired communion and sometimes mistake that impairment for normality.
Does our culture as a General Synod help us to discern the Body of Christ more faithfully in one another, or does it make that task more difficult?
My hope is not that General Synod becomes a place without disagreement. Such a Church would almost certainly have ceased to listen to the Holy Spirit. My hope is that it becomes a place where disagreement is so held within relationships of trust, generosity, humility and mutual dignity that nobody needs to wonder whether there is a place for them at Christ’s table.
Every Synod should leave us more deeply conformed to the Body of Christ that we proclaim ourselves already to be. If a decision instead leaves existing members questioning whether they truly belong within that Body, or whether they are regarded primarily as people who ought fundamentally to become somebody else, then the Church’s own policy on fringes and display stands asks precisely the right questions. Is this consistent with the ethos of the Church of England? Is it consistent with the House of Bishops’ safeguarding guidance? Does it build up or diminish the common life of the Body?
In this instance, they should now be answered. The issue before General Synod is not simply what it chooses to debate. It is what, by those debates and by the way they are conducted, General Synod is becoming, as the Body of Christ.
