Tag: same-sex marriage

  • Can Parliament Permit Church of England Clergy to Marry Same-Sex Couples? Should it?

    by Professor Iain McLean, FBA FRSE, Professor Emeritus of Politics, Oxford University and a fellow of Nuffield College. As a Quaker, he was a consultant to Britain Yearly Meeting of the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers) for their lobbying on the ‘Alli amendment’ (to the Equality Act 2010, permitting faith communities to conduct civil partnerships) and on the Marriage (Same Sex Couples) Act 2013

    (the second 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)

    On 21 March 2023, Ben Bradshaw MP (Lab., Exeter) introduced a Ten-Minute Rule Bill ‘to enable clergy of the Church of England to conduct same sex marriages on Church of England premises in certain circumstances’. It was co-sponsored by parliamentarians from the Conservative, Labour, Liberal Democrat, and Green parties (no nationalists; the bill would apply in England only). Introducing it, Mr (now Sir) Ben Bradshaw stated that it had the support of Sir Tony Baldry (former MP (Cons, Banbury) and Second Church Estates Commissioner). He also stated that

    My preference—and, I imagine, that of most colleagues—would be for the Church to do this itself….The main motivation in introducing it is to encourage the bishops to stick to the commitments and timetable agreed by February’s Synod and resist any delay or backsliding at the next Synod in July.

    The current Second Church Estates Commissioner, Andrew Selous, responded

    [I]t is necessary to respond to the Bill in my capacity as Second Church Estates Commissioner because it seeks to usurp the role of the democratically elected General Synod of the Church of England, as well as to remove the freedom of the Church of England to decide its own doctrine, a freedom that members from all parts of this House champion for religions and beliefs all over the world and one that we should therefore apply equally to the Church of England (Hansard, Commons, 21 March 2023).

    Earlier, in response to an Urgent Question, he had said:

    In order to change canon law on the doctrine of holy matrimony, there has to be a two-thirds majority in the House of Bishops, the House of Clergy and the House of Laity of the General Synod, which is itself a devolved body of this Parliament, and the vast majority of whose members are elected. There is not currently a two-thirds majority in the General Synod to change canon law on the doctrine of holy matrimony (Hansard, Commons, 24 January 2023).

    … although he modified this answer two days later to say

    the advice I was given then was by the Church legal office, and I was yesterday asked to make a small clarification. A simple majority in each of the three Houses of the General Synod could suffice to pass a measure and amending canon to change the definition of marriage in ecclesiastical law, but circumstances could also arise in which two-thirds majorities in the House of Bishops and the House of Clergy would be needed, and, as with all authorised forms of service, a two-thirds majority in each House would be required for the approval of the Synod as a form of service for the marriage of a same-sex couple (Hansard, Commons, 26 January 2023).

    A Ten-Minute Bill is purely expressive speech. Mr Bradshaw’s bill received a first reading without a division, but is tabled for its second reading on a day when Parliament will not be sitting. Nevertheless, the matter remains of current interest. The General Synod of the Church of England meets in July and November 2023. The agenda for July contains no such proposed Measure. If the Synod declines to introduce a Measure to permit those clergy who so wish to conduct same-sex weddings in their churches, can Parliament intervene with a Private Member’s Bill, which unlike a Ten-Minute Bill receives substantive debate? And should it?

    Can Parliament intervene?

    It certainly can. The orthodox doctrine of Parliamentary sovereignty maintains that Parliament remains supreme, even when it has delegated authority to bodies such as the Scottish and Welsh Parliaments, and the General Synod of the Church of England. Since delegating authority to what is now the General Synod in 1919, Parliament has intervened in the doctrine of the Church of England, most notoriously in the ‘Prayer Book controversy’ of 1927-8. Twice, the House of Commons turned down the Church of England prayer book, on the grounds that it was too close to Roman Catholicism. The decisive majority included Calvinist MPs from Scotland and Ulster. They could vote, because of parliamentary sovereignty, even though it was an England-only matter.

    The doctrines of the Church of England have less protection from Parliamentary interference than do those of the Church of Scotland. Both Parliament and the courts interfered with the doctrines of the Kirk, the former by the Patronage Act 1711 and the latter in various court judgements culminating in the Free Church case (Bannatyne v. Overtoun [1904] AC 515). In 1711 Parliament enacted a right for lay patrons to nominate ministers. In 1904 the judicial House of Lords awarded all those assets of the large United Free (UF) Church of Scotland that had come from the former Free Church to the tiny continuing Free Church, on the grounds that

    the Establishment principle and the Westminster Confession were distinctive tenets of the Free Church; that the Free Church had no power, where property was concerned, to alter or vary the doctrine of the Church; that there was no true union …; and that the appellants were entitled to hold for behoof of the Free Church the property held by the Free Church before the union in 1900.

    To forestall any repetition, the Church of Scotland and the UF Church, who were merging, obtained a remarkable abnegation of Parliamentary sovereignty in the Church of Scotland Act 1921 c.29 (‘An Act to declare the lawfulness of certain Articles declaratory of the Constitution of the Church of Scotland in matters spiritual prepared with the authority of the General Assembly of the Church.’). These Articles Declaratory, drafted by the General Assembly, trump any statutes that might conflict with them.

    This ancient history illustrates two bad ways of interfering with religious freedom. Both 1711 and 1927-8 were instances of what is now called the ‘West Lothian Question’, in which a measure affecting only one part of the UK is enacted against the majority vote of members from that part. The majority of Scots MPs voted against the 1711 Act. The majority of English MPs voted in favour of the Prayer Book. And the courts would not now presume to wade in to identify the fundamental tenets of a religion and use that as a basis for assigning property. Are there, though, any good grounds for parliamentary involvement in religion?

    Should it?

    There are two main arguments against introducing a bill to permit C of E clergy to solemnise same-sex marriage, and two main arguments in favour.

    The first argument against is that what is delegated should stay delegated. By delegating authority to the Church of England, Parliament extricated itself from what had been very time-consuming and messy arguments about, for instance, divorce, the Roman Catholic presence in England, and marriage to a deceased wife’s sister. The second argument against is that espoused by Andrew Selous above: that intervention would ‘remove the freedom of the Church of England to decide its own doctrine’.

    The first argument in favour of intervention is that a purely permissive measure cannot be detrimental to religious freedom. On this argument, individuals have freedom; organisations, not so much. In its zeal to protect the religious freedom of clergy opposed to same-sex marriage, the Marriage (Same-Sex Couples) Act 2013, it is argued, tramples on the religious freedom of clergy supportive of same-sex marriage. As noted in the Ten Minute debate, various denominations have opted in under the 2013 Act or its Scottish equivalent, in all cases permissively. Both Acts protect the conscience of those unwilling to conduct same-sex marriages when their faith group has decided to be open to them.

    The second argument is that the Church of England is for some purposes an agent of the state. Ever since 1753, when it was granted a monopoly of marriage in England & Wales (except for Quakers and Jews, who are still treated differently), it has regulated property and succession rights on behalf of the state. All parish clergy act as registrars – a civil function – when they officiate at a wedding. In addition, they have a common-law duty to marry parishioners, and couples have a common-law right to ask to be married in the parish church of either of them. However, as the Explanatory Notes to the 2013 Act make clear:

    Subsections (4) and (5) provide that any duty of a member of the clergy of the Church of England or the Church in Wales to solemnize a marriage does not extend to same sex couples. In addition, any corresponding right of parishioners to be married by such clergy does not extend to same sex couples. The effect of this is that the common law duty on the clergy of the Church of England and the Church in Wales to marry parishioners is not extended to same sex couples.

    Examples…

    A man lives next door to a Church of England parish church and wishes to get married there. He is getting married to a woman. Neither of them has ever attended services at the church or professes to be Christian. He speaks to the vicar who agrees to marry the couple, given his legal duty to marry parishioners.

    A man who lives next door to a Church of England parish church wishes to get married there. He is getting married to a man. Both of them regularly attend services at the church and are committed Christians. He speaks to the vicar who has to refuse to marry the couple, since it would not be lawful for him to do so and the legal duty to marry parishioners does not extend to same sex couples.

    For a text presumably drafted by civil servants and/or parliamentary drafters, this seems unusually forthright.

    The ‘quadruple lock’ inserted in the 2013 Act at the request of conservative denominations contains a couple of tumblers that are unique to the Church of England. They are section 1 subsections 3-5:

    (3) No Canon of the Church of England is contrary to section 3 of the Submission of the Clergy Act 1533 (which provides that no Canons shall be contrary to the Royal Prerogative or the customs, laws or statutes of this realm) by virtue of its making provision about marriage being the union of one man with one woman.

    (4) Any duty of a member of the clergy to solemnize marriages (and any corresponding right of persons to have their marriages solemnized by members of the clergy) is not extended by this Act to marriages of same sex couples.

    (5) A “member of the clergy” is—

    (a) a clerk in Holy Orders of the Church of England, or

    (b) a clerk in Holy Orders of the Church in Wales.

    Subsection (3) is declaratory, and nobody’s religious freedom would be impaired by its repeal. The effect of repealing subsections (4) and (5) would be to remove the anomaly highlighted in the Explanatory Notes.

    I conclude that a Private Member’s Bill to repeal these subsections would be a simple way of granting parliamentary approval of the consciences of clergy who wish to conduct same-sex marriage, while preserving all the protections already in the 2013 Act for clergy who do not. If such a bill won parliamentary time (which requires at least the tacit consent of the government of the day), the votes on it would be classically ‘conscience’ matters and no party would be expected to whip its members. Unlike in 1927, however, Scottish and Northern Irish members should not vote.

  • The Unholy Alliance

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

    Alliances are the bread and butter of politics. Whether it’s formal coalitions or back room deals, nobody who plays the politics game can ever truly pretend to keep their hands clean. The Church of England is no exception – not least since questions of sex and marriage have now become the latest political football. It’s easy to sink into a deep frustration about the fact that – yet again – LGBTQI+ people are forced into being the means and not the ends of yet another political fight, but there is one alliance which really needs to be called out for the extremely destructive force it might become, for all concerned and for the whole church. For it is becoming clearer and clearer that ‘traditionalist’ catholics – those who oppose the ordination of women as priests and bishops – are, at least in their official pronouncements and ecclesial bodies – joining forces with conservative evangelicals and pretending to present a unified front. It’s politically expedient, for now – but it’s theologically incoherent and ultimately inept and, unless traditionalists are careful, they are going to end up in a very sticky position.

    Because the reality is that, despite their apparent agreement – that ‘the sacrament of marriage’ is for man-woman only (ignoring, conveniently, the ‘lifelong’ element which is usually attached to that) – their theological rationale and indeed entire conception of marriage is fundamentally different. It is, incidentally, fascinating to see which hill people are willing to die on – I can’t imagine the evangelicals of years-gone-by being so willing to call marriage a sacrament! It is, presumably, the lack of actual agreement that leads to the theological thin-gruel found in the rather embarrassing trad-cath-con-evo paper that stands up to very little scrutiny yet which is ‘wholly endorsed’ by the traditionalist bishops. They might come to the same conclusion, but the working is very, very different – and it’s extraordinary dishonest to suggest otherwise.

    The key element here that most demonstrates the lack of agreement is the question of whether gay sex – even gay relationships (in fact, even gay celibate friendships, as the most recent iteration of the CEEC’s charming advice suggests) – is a salvation issue. That is, does this damn us to hell or not. And the truth is that whilst the CEEC and their heavies think that it is and that it does, the vast majority of traditionalists do not. Traditionalists, in the main, see this as a doctrinal issue of catholic order – one that may indeed even change in the wider church at some point, but which the Church of England has no authority to change unilaterally (whether one buys that particular argument is for another day). Many traditionalist priests I speak to are sick and tired of the political alliance that has been formed, because they are longing to find ways to be pastorally accommodating to same-sex couples while holding to a ‘traditional’ doctrine of the sacrament itself.

    And we really need to name the elephant in the room, because as Christians, particularly if we are in public ministry, we are called to truth, not to so-called ‘discretion’ which is ultimately a lie. That elephant is that there are plenty of traditionalist clergy having sex with men – often in committed and loving relationships. And this matters because if some traditionalist clergy are in relationships, and are having gay sex, they need to be able to justify this theologically, or stop doing it – or the whole thing is a sham. We bring everything to God – and thus we must bring everything to our theology. ‘Pastoral accommodation’ is personal – and theological. And it is utterly theologically impossible to hold this perspective together with the conservative evangelical argument about a ‘salvation issue’ – even if it is politically useful. Ends very rarely justify means – particularly when those means sow dishonesty and mistruths.

    And before there are the usual howls of faux-outrage and disgruntlement that someone could ‘say such a thing’ about traditionalist clergy – enough, already. I have been to many an event where traditionalist clergy partners are very clearly visible. I’ve been on pilgrimages where they’re sharing rooms. I’ve sat opposite traditionalist clergy with their boyfriends at supper who are quite open – provided it’s not too open – that they’re in a sexual relationship. I have traditionalist friends for whom this is their normal lived experience. Don’t tell me it’s not happening – we see it with our own eyes. It’s not an opinion – it’s a fact.

    Now don’t get me wrong – I’m delighted that trad clergy have found boyfriends, partners, whatever you want to call it – though please do try to avoid the euphemistic and ultimately hypocritical nonsense about lodgers and ‘special friends’. But what drives me absolutely round the bend is the hypocrisy.

    We don’t live in a tweedocracy of the Edwardian era, where everything was terribly nudge-nudge wink-wink, and clergy had their secret clandestine affairs with young men. The current situation is not only infantilising to the clergy and partners involved; it patronises the laity, it is clericalist in the most unappetising way, and it is ultimately a potential safeguarding risk. Dancing around the issue, refusing to be honest and open, is as potentially dangerous as it is pathetic.

    Now before I get accused of painting with too broad a brush, of course I accept and recognise that there are plenty of traditionalist clergy who abhor this kind of clandestine rubbish. That applies both those who would demand celibacy of gay clergy and those who would hope for some change in practice, in doctrine, or even – dare I say – in welcoming same-sex marriage in churches. But the traditionalist bishops have made a big mistake in pretending that there is a singular ‘Society’ perspective on this, as has the traditionalist leadership in the church’s political sphere, because they risk making hypocrites of the whole enterprise by looking to politics rather than theology. And traditionalists can do better than that.

    If traditionalists are going to oppose same-sex marriage on catholic grounds, then they are going to need to face the question of sex head on and find some answers. If you’re going to stop same-sex couples getting married – the Christian normative place for sex – then you either have to demand celibacy of all same-sex couples – yourself included – or you need to do the theological work to think about why sex outside of marriage might be theologically acceptable.

    That latter task – talking about sex in a theologically sensible way – is one that the church corporate needs to get its teeth into as the Pastoral Guidance is drawn up, given the refusal of the Church of England to take what is ultimately the more conservative option and open marriage up to people of the same sex, and hence keep sex within marriage. The traditionalist camp can either bury their heads in the sand and pretend they’re best mates with the CEEC, or they can be honest and play their part in actually talking about the issue at hand.

    Of course being honest and grappling with this, recognising there isn’t a single view or narrative, isn’t going to be easy – but the cross isn’t meant to be easy. Courage, friends – let your yes be yes and your no be no. Your integrity demands it.

  • Born-Again Virginity?

    by Prof Helen King, Professor Emerita in Classical Studies at The Open University and member of General Synod

    The World Health Organisation’s 2018 statement on “Eliminating virginity testing” argued that “the term ‘virginity’ is a social, cultural and religious construct with neither medical nor scientific basis” and that virginity testing is a violation of human rights because “the appearance of a hymen is not a reliable indication of intercourse and there is no known examination that can prove a history of vaginal intercourse.”

    “A religious construct”… yes, indeed. And it was clear from speakers in the Living in Love and Faith debate at the February General Synod that virginity is back on the agenda, at least in some parts of the Church of England. This is part of the attempt to argue that lesbian and gay people must never have sexual relationships, which involves promoting alternatives: for life. What do women – and the word only tends to be used of women, men preferring “celibate” – mean when they claim the status?

    Those asserting their virginity seem to come from the evangelical tradition. If you want to start from the Bible, then the key passage is probably Deuteronomy 22.13-21 on what happens if a man fails to find “evidence of virginity” in his bride. The woman’s family are supposed to demonstrate this “evidence” to the elders of the city, and they “spread a cloak” out to show the blood of defloration. This is a deadly serious business. The woman can be stoned to death if no “evidence” is shown, this being a culture in which not only a man found with a betrothed virgin but also the woman herself can be killed if discovered; in her case, because she did not cry out for help.

    There’s a Catholic dimension too, of course: the Virgin Mary. Julia Kelto Lillis has pointed out that the Church Fathers operated with the full range of models of the female body that existed in the ancient Mediterranean; so, some believed in the hymen, others didn’t. Mary’s body could be regarded as “closed” without this having to mean an intact hymen. Even where the hymen was considered a real thing, its reliability was open to challenge. In the fifth century CE, in his City of God (1.18), St Augustine noted that checking for virginity could destroy the hymen:

    A midwife, suppose, has (whether maliciously or accidentally, or through unskilfulness) destroyed the virginity of some girl, while endeavouring to ascertain it: I suppose no one is so foolish as to believe that, by this destruction of the integrity of one organ, the virgin has lost anything even of her bodily sanctity.

    So what do statements today that someone is a ‘virgin’ actually mean? If it means “not having had sexual intercourse”, then what counts as ‘sex’? The CEEC ‘What to write to your bishop’ guidance states its objection to the same-sex relationships in which some of the bishops’ prayers are intended to be used, on the grounds that these “will often be sexually active”. As well as noting that this implies some won’t be – so are these somehow OK with CEEC? – I remain confused as to what “sexually active” means.

    Conservative evangelicals want to affirm sex as only between a man and a woman, married, in a lifelong relationship. Of course, that ‘lifelong’ has already bitten the dust after the acceptance that some people can be married in church despite a previous divorce. Somehow, being in a church where this could happen – if the conscience of the minister allowed them to do such a thing – was not enough to make conservatives feel that they would be damaged by their proximity to such behaviour. Yet the Prayers of Love and Faith are thought a step too far.

    To support this “only between a man and a woman”, Genesis is widely cited: the myth of Adam and Eve. If it’s all about being (potentially) fruitful and (potentially) multiplying, then as the only sex which is (potentially) procreative is penis-in-vagina sex – the WHO’s “vaginal intercourse” – where does that leave same-sex sex? Why is any sexual “activity” between two men or two women of any interest or relevance? In the traditional Christian morality with which many of us grew up, not “going all the way” didn’t really count as sex. That recalls that much-quoted line from the coming-of-age comedy Clueless (1995), “Dionne’s virginity went from technical to non-existent”. Is same-sex sex any different?

    Perhaps it’s not about hymens, or even bodies, at all. True virginity, as Basil of Ancyra argued and John Chrysostom underlined, was the virginity of the soul: “Virginity can be lost even by a thought” because there are those who are “virgins in the flesh, but not in the spirit”. The hymen did not guarantee spiritual virginity. Is this the virginity which those who announced their status at Synod had in mind?

    You can’t see spiritual virginity. As for physical virginity, there’s a long history of faking it. From the ancient Mediterranean onwards, medical texts describe constrictive ointments to tighten the vagina, the insertion of containers filled with fish blood, or even ways to create a new hymen. Today, virginity restoration surgery is advertised online. Hymen reconstruction, as well as vaginoplasty, is popular in Iran and in Korea, where in 2017 24% of the world’s plastic surgery was being carried out. Vaginoplasty is known as “princess surgery”; the claim is that your man will treat you like a princess. In Guatemala, where hymenoplasty is called “intimate surgery”, it thrives despite the opposition of both the state and the Catholic church.

    I want to be fair: there are real benefits to these surgeries, in that they allow women to survive within the insane structures in which they have to live. In cultures where virginity is the only way for a woman to be respected, “virginity restoration” can save not just reputations but lives, giving some women a second chance. Promoting virginity also has value; showing it’s fine to be a virgin can help prevent people feeling under pressure to enter relationships.

    But there are strange things happening in some churches today. The Christian idea of spiritual virginity is being revisited, to suggest that a woman who has survived sexual violence, or has admitted and been forgiven for sexual activity outside marriage, can still be a virgin in her soul. Vilma Conner published Born-Again Virgin: How to transform your life from promiscuity back into purity in 2009. As for physical virginity, in November 2022 April Ajoy, who co-hosts a podcast on American Evangelical Christianity, tweeted:

    During Purity Week at my Christian college, one preacher bragged about seeing God restore girls’ hymens to make them physical virgins again. Then they gave us purity pledge cards that included the following: I am a (circle one): A. Virgin B. Secondary Virgin. Fun times.

    She had in mind people like Kris Vallotton, a leader in Bethel Church, who in 2012 claimed that God can replace the hymen: “We OFTEN get testimonies from women sharing that God restored their virginity including restoring their hymen! I have heard 100s of these testimonies!!!”

    Virginity – a construct with “neither medical nor scientific basis” – is most definitely back on the agenda. Physical, or spiritual? More importantly: God, or idol?

  • No More Delay: A Call to General Synod

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

    I’ll admit to approaching Synod this week with rather mixed emotions. This is the case not least because I’m not a member – so I’ll be sitting on the side-lines, somewhat glad I’m not in the debating chamber, and yet also finding myself in that position that so many of us find ourselves in: watching other people make decisions about our lives.

    The sense of powerlessness amongst LGBTQI folk has been palpable as Living in Love and Faith dragged the Church of England into conversations many didn’t want to have, for many different reasons. Yet there was always going to be an endpoint, and here we are.

    What’s on ‘offer’ from the bishops is, in a sense, staggering from two directions. The wet-behind-the-ears young upstart me who despaired at the pathetic episcopal Valentine’s day poison-pen letter issued in response to the introduction of same-sex marriage back in 2014 would not believe we now have blessings on the table. Frankly, I’m not sure I would have believed they’d be on the table when the House of Clergy gave the bishops a bloody nose in Synod in 2017. Yet looking at where we stand now, I can’t help but be disappointed that that’s all we’re being offered, after all this time, after all this expended energy – I can’t help but be staggered that this is all the bishops, corporately, think we are worth.

    I care little for whether the draft prayers are blessing the people or the relationship – the fact of a blessing says that something is ‘good’, and for years we have heard that our relationships are no such thing. LGBTQI clergy have been hounded out of jobs; LBGTQI laity have had doors slammed in their faces; we have been told to have ‘warmer hearts and cooler heads’ whilst our entire lives, loves, and very existence has been trashed. We have been told to stop calling ourselves gay, and instead use whatever terminology is foisted upon us by those who know better. It is only in the church that those who are doing the oppressing get to determine what the bounds of that oppression are, what homophobia is, what transphobia is. Meanwhile the world looks on, and cannot understand how we have gotten ourselves into this mess. The Church of England is seen as prejudiced, hateful, unwelcoming – however much we tell ourselves blessings is a big step.

    So I come to these proposals with anger, certainly, and yet with a sense of realism, too.

    The problem is that – however much we hate it – the next step in this process is political. That is simply a fact – this is now about votes. It is abundantly clear that nothing more than what is on the table could get through Synod, however much we wish it could. And that hurts, because here we are again being told to wait, wait, wait. Oh for more bishops to speak in our favour in more than a whisper; oh for them to stop hiding behind procedure and speak prophetically.

    And looking at the Questions for General Synod during this session, the sheer, prurient nastiness from some quarters continues. This does not look like a Synod that truly wants to apologise for the hurt done – that continues to be done – to LGBTQI Christians.

    We know that the bishops will authorise some form of these prayers ‘for use come what may’, whatever happens at Synod. The key thing now is how they are ‘received’ at Synod, and let’s not be naïve in thinking that this week doesn’t matter for what the future looks like.

    Self-professed conservatives seem divided, not least on whether same-sex relationships can ever be a good thing (however obscene that might sound to anyone who has ever met a gay, lesbian or bisexual person). Some ‘conservative’ bishops have offered a theological reflection on their concerns about equal marriage, yet this paper’s thinness of content perhaps belies the disagreements that remain beneath the surface in that camp. But notable is that even they are willing to say what would previously never have been said:

    Same-sex relationships can, of course, be lifelong, loving, committed, faithful, and provide deep and enduring companionship. As such the church needs to find ways to recognise and welcome such relationships, without explicitly or implicitly changing her teaching by doing so. 

    Yet the wider conservative response appears to be in one of two camps – delay, delay, delay, kick the can down the road yet again, or bizarre videos consisting primarily of weaponised prayer and threats to withhold money. In a sense, at least this mode of operation is finally out in the open. The threats have been there for years – the bishops have just been too scared to say anything.

    The delaying tactics aren’t going to work: the prayers are going ahead. We know this. There will be procedural nonsense and attempts to water everything down. You can just imagine what is coming from the usual suspects.

    Yet this is nothing more than a loud minority in the wider church that are excellent at getting themselves elected to stymie progress, and who have wasted our time for years.

    For what it’s worth, I think these proposals are the next step on the road, and the destination is equal marriage. I strongly believe inclusive synod members should vote them through, even if the progressive amendments don’t pass. We can reason with people all we like, but it’s through experience that people change their minds. The minute we bless same-sex couples, people’s prejudice will be challenged by real, living people, right in front of them, living ordinary, faithful, loving, honest lives of love and faith, to coin a phrase.

    Are these proposals enough? Absolutely they are not. Are they demeaning? Absolutely they are. Are they our best chance of changing the culture of the Church of England and creating an unstoppable momentum? I believe they are. If we vote them down, we simply provide ammunition for those who have always held the power over us. We won’t even be given the scraps, and the small but increasing group of genuinely supportive bishops will take the heat.

    Make no mistake: the ‘conservatives’ will do anything to make these proposals fail, because they know this is a step on the road and not the end of the journey. They know that this is their last chance to hold back the floodgates. We have been held back long enough – enough of this.

    But I would urge inclusive Synod members to make it abundantly clear that this is but a step on the road, and an unsatisfactory one at that. I would urge them to make it clear that if the new Pastoral Guidance is in the same vein as Issues in Human Sexuality, and if our clergy cannot marry according to their conscience, then the bishops will have betrayed us, again – and that there will be mutiny in the ranks. If the ‘conservatives’ won’t give us marriage, then they can hardly complain that sex outside of marriage is the next logical step. They made their bed.

    The Bishop of London has said in response to a Question that:

    The response of the bishops makes no proposals for further decision-making, nor does it have plans to do so. However, it is not within the bishops’ power to ensure or predict that there will never be further change in any direction.

    Let’s be absolutely clear – there may be no ‘plans’ for further decision-making, but any bishop who thinks that this thin gruel of acceptance is the end of the road is in for a rather rude awakening. Unlike those who threaten to take away parish share, I don’t offer this as a threat – I offer it as a promise. The way forward is clear, and it is time bishops were held to account.

    No more silence but much more honesty. Respect for theological differences of opinion. Freedom of conscience. No more punitive measures. And perhaps – at last – a recognition of the gift of LGBTQI people to the church.

    Synod reps, I urge you to get this done. Say no to delay, and drag the Church of England on the first step of the journey. There is an inevitable finale to this particular spectacle, and that finale is full inclusion – maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday soon. This is a time for hope, and for new beginnings – Synod reps, you are the midwives of this new creation. God bless you in what you will do this week.

  • Time for the Church to Come Out

    by Revd Neil Patterson, Chair of the Gender & Sexuality Group on General Synod

    Since the draft resources for same-sex couples were published on the 21st February (GS2289) I have read a great deal of comment on them, mostly understandably critical. One important theme I have noticed is “these don’t move us forward, they just do what’s already happening.” In other words, informal prayer services (long offered by many inclusive parishes) and clergy in same-sex relationships, all just officially proclaimed rather than somewhat covert. Yes, that’s not a big change. But as every LGBTQ+ reader will know, we have an expression for making something public that has always been the case. It’s called ‘coming out’ and there’s nothing trivial about it at all.

    In my experience almost every LGBTQ+ person can remember, quite vividly, the details of their coming out, in my case to my friends at university, my family a little later, and finally to my parishioners in 2013.  The last was prompted by three things: a short relationship with a lovely man (who wisely ended it and is now happily married to someone else) which made me realise that I needed to be more open to be myself; the public debate around the Same-Sex Marriage Bill in 2012; and the decision of the House of Bishops to allow the consecration of openly gay or lesbian clergy as bishops on the same basis as ordination to the priesthood.

    The second of those had prompted a memorably difficult encounter with a couple in one parish, when I had after the service challenged the husband’s petition in the intercessions that the Same-Sex Marriage Bill “might not become law.” A tricky conversation in church led to me visiting to talk to him at home (his wife being absent without explanation). I didn’t say much about myself, but offered to discreetly include them in the distribution of the service rota so that they could avoid me if they wished, and we had a respectful discussion of Scripture and our differing views. But as I was leaving he uttered the unforgettable words, “But of course, you know my wife can never receive communion from a homosexual.” Fortunately for the wider parish, they were known for having very particular views on many things, so my explanation to the churchwardens was accepted as just another oddity about them.

    But the Bishops’ decision gave me the opportunity to write a letter to my parishioners (copied to my bishop and others) which largely set out the current state of debate in the Church of England and beyond as I saw it (I still have it, and it still makes sense!) and quietly slipping in at the end that, of course, being gay myself, this affected me directly. Responses were not loud, and there was a good deal of “we did guess, you know!” But there were a few striking responses, one from a churchwarden and his wife who then told me both about their lifelong dear gay friends, one of whom had just died, and the husband about his great passion for another boy at school. And one organist, a Northern Irish lady, who reportedly began in tears of shock and horror, and within about a day had thought about it, and proclaimed with equal fervour “he can love whoever he wants!” As with so many comings out, personal knowledge and love overcame prejudice, and I regret very much that I left it so long.

    Across the Church of England, I know there are still very many LGBTQ+ people living, and in many cases ministering, from the closet. You may be afraid of your parishes, or families, or dioceses, and for that I am most sorry. I believe, as many campaigners and celebrities have said before me (Ian McKellen springs to mind) that we are all better for coming out, whatever our situation, and I believe you will be too, for the truth will set you free. And I here place on record (feel free to spread this around) that I will personally give a bottle of champagne to any bishop who manages to come out in the LLF debate on February 8th.

    It feels to me, though, as if this is the moment when the Church of England itself, in a sense, comes out. It may be that the changes offered in GS2289 are not in themselves very substantial, and that is fair comment. But maybe, just maybe, this is the moment when we shake off the carapace of grudging bishops’ statements and captivity to a minority incapable of theological imagination. And show the Church to have been what it has always been, at least in part. Diverse, welcoming and affirming of human variety and love in all its forms, and ready to proclaim the good news of that love in Christ to our generation.

  • A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life: A Reprise

    by Revd Dr William Lamb, Vicar of the University Church of St Mary the Virgin, Oxford, an Associate Member of the Faculty of Theology and Religion, University of Oxford, and a Fellow of Harris Manchester College

    In 2005, Marilyn McCord Adams, the then Regius Professor of Divinity in the University of Oxford, preached a University Sermon at St Mary’s entitled A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life.

    Taking as her text Leviticus 19.2, ‘You shall be holy, because I the Lord your God am holy’, Adams lamented the Church of England’s ‘record of foot-dragging equivocation’ in its treatment of LGBTQ+ persons: ‘in my judgment, the stubborn refusal of our Church to engage in imaginative thinking about human sexuality has not only cemented some illogical ideas and bad theology. It has produced patterns of institutional abuse towards gay and lesbian Christian generally and coupled homosexual clergy in particular’.

    Adams was writing in the context of the introduction of civil partnerships for same-sex couples and the decision of the House of Bishops that ‘clergy of the Church of England should not provide services of blessing for those who register a civil partnership’.

    She drew some intriguing parallels with a significant innovation in the Western church at the time of the English Reformation when clergy were allowed to marry. She pointed out that when clerical marriage was introduced in the sixteenth century, this innovation proceeded slowly. Henry VIII was particularly resistant to the idea of clerical marriage. He ordered bishops to conduct secret investigations to identify married clergy to deprive them of their benefices. In 1539, clerical marriage was criminalized. Only gradually did it become more accepted in the Church of England. Adams observed: ‘Given its dicey theological and legal history, you might expect present-day champions of heterosexual marriage to show more sympathy for those whose partnerships now face like challenges.’

    With the introduction of equal marriage in 2013, the House of Bishops issued guidance (which was rather insensitively published on Valentine’s Day 2014), stating that ‘it would not be appropriate conduct for someone in Holy Orders to enter into a same sex marriage, given the need for clergy to model the Church’s teaching in their lives’. A number of clergy, who have married, have faced various forms of disciplinary action – many have been deprived of a licence or permission to officiate. Recent press coverage of the plight of the Revd Mpho Tutu, who was refused permission to officiate at her godfather’s funeral, provides a ready example of the kind of intimidation and harassment suffered by LGBTQ+ clergy.

    In the course of recent decades, the Bishops have continued to adopt a strategy of ‘foot-dragging equivocation’. Noting that the subject of sexuality, with its deeply entrenched views, would best be addressed by a series of Shared Conversations, these discussions led to the publication of a report in January 2017 which recommended no change in the Church’s policy. General Synod refused to take note of this report. In response, the Archbishop of Canterbury spoke of a need for a ‘radical new Christian inclusion’ and suggested a new teaching document about marriage and sexuality. This led to an extended process of further discussion under the title of Living in Love and Faith.

    A substantial report was published, but it made no recommendations at all. While the previous report recommended no change, this report set out to make no recommendations. Of course, the real question is whether there has been any real movement in generating a consensus about where the Spirit of God might be leading the church at this time, but a significant consequence of this detailed and extensive work is that the House of Bishops can no longer claim that there is a need for ‘further study’. That has happened, and now the problem for them is that they have nowhere left to hide.

    My own view is that three things need to happen in the course of the next twelve months: first, the House of Bishops need to accept that their 1991 report, Issues in Human Sexuality, no longer expresses the mind of the church. Although this ‘study document’, produced by the House of Bishops, was quickly advertised as ‘the Church’s teaching’, it was never approved by the General Synod. More recently, Synod has invited the House of Bishops to reflect on the fact that this report alludes positively to forms of conversion therapy, even though Synod has explicitly rejected conversion therapy. The document was drafted before the development of civil partnerships and equal marriage – about which it therefore has absolutely nothing to say. One can no longer take seriously the demand of the House of Bishops that those presented for ordination in the Church of England should abide by Issues. More importantly, casuistical interpretations of this text, sometimes with the encouragement of DDOs and the collusion of Bishops, have not served to create healthy and open discussions around sexuality and ministry. In my view, based on 20 years of working in theological education, this has not served the task of formation well. It has generated a culture of fear and anxiety for LGBTQ+ clergy and lay ministers. We can do better than this.

    Secondly, it is now evident that the Bishops’ current policy of disciplining clergy who have married their same-sex partners is received with a combination of puzzlement and increasing alarm by the general public, including Members of Parliament. At the recent Lambeth Conference, the Archbishop of Canterbury recognised that there were profoundly different perspectives within the Anglican Communion about equal marriage, each the fruit of patient and faithful wrestling with scripture:

    For the large majority of the Anglican Communion the traditional understanding of marriage is something that is understood, accepted and without question, not only by Bishops but their entire Church, and the societies in which they live. For them, to question this teaching is unthinkable, and in many countries would make the church a victim of derision, contempt and even attack. For many churches to change traditional teaching challenges their very existence

    For a minority, we can say almost the same. They have not arrived lightly at their ideas that traditional teaching needs to change. They are not careless about scripture. They do not reject Christ. But they have come to a different view on sexuality after long prayer, deep study and reflection on understandings of human nature. For them, to question this different teaching is unthinkable, and in many countries is making the church a victim of derision, contempt and even attack. For these churches not to change traditional teaching challenges their very existence.

    The Archbishop underlined that all had an honoured place in the life of the Communion. Nevertheless, the measured tone of these words is hard to reconcile with the way in which clergy who have married their same-sex partners have been treated. There is a more general principle at stake here. We need to address the fact that the number of marriages in church has declined significantly over the last fifty years. At a time when more children are born outside marriage than within it in the United Kingdom, how might we reverse that decline? It seems extraordinary that the Bishops believe that they can promote the gift of marriage by investing time and energy in an undignified campaign against a small number of clergy simply for getting married to their same sex partner. The Bishops’ policy is unedifying, unjust and completely counter-productive.

    Finally, although some of its members tell me that the numbers in General Synod will not add up in order to change the marriage canons of the Church of England at this stage, it may be possible to chart a way forward by offering prayers of dedication after a civil marriage. A change in the marriage canons would require legislation and the consent not only of General Synod but also Parliament. The existing form of prayers of dedication after a civil marriage are commended for use by the House of Bishops.

    The Bishops might issue a revised form of prayers. They might even choose to test the mind of Synod in February (although the risk of another public and rancorous argument will hardly be edifying). Personally, I believe in equal marriage, not because I am a liberal, but because I take seriously the traditional teaching of the Church. I believe that faithfulness and commitment matter. They make a difference. In learning to love in the context of a faithful and committed relationship, we learn to love as God loves us: ‘for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health….’

    In the course of the twentieth century, questions of sexual ethics in the life of the Church were dominated by the issue of divorce and remarriage. The Church has made some accommodation for the remarriage of divorcees in recent decades, initially producing An Order of Prayer and Dedication after a Civil Marriage. At the same time, the Bishops insisted that there was no change to the Church’s official teaching that marriage was a lifelong union between a man and a woman. Although this provision has been characterised by a gentle, if untidy, pastoral pragmatism, I suspect that the Bishops might fruitfully adopt a similar strategy within the next twelve months to acknowledge the recent changes to civil marriage.

    This would be a relatively modest development and I am conscious that the overwhelming majority of people in my congregation would expect much more. Practically speaking, so long as the process was freed from the shackles of ecclesiastical lawyers (who occasionally need to be reminded that they are the servants of the church and not its masters), this could probably be achieved with a commendation from the House of Bishops. Such a development has already been adopted in the Church in Wales (in this case with the approval of its Governing Body) without generating much controversy.

    Just as ‘conscience’ clauses exist for ministers and parishes who might object to the remarriage of divorcees, similar clauses could be introduced for ministers and parishes who might object to equal marriage. As the Bishops discern the way forward, I have little doubt that ‘conscience’ will play a vital role in the process of discernment. One of my predecessors as Vicar of the University Church, John Henry Newman (1801-1890), wrote extensively about the importance of conscience. He regarded conscience as the voice of God speaking in the depths of our soul. Famously, in his later years, in a letter to the Duke of Norfolk, he wrote about those ‘extreme cases in which Conscience may come into collision with the word of a Pope’. Newman wrote, ‘if I am obliged to bring religion into after dinner social toasts, I shall drink – to the Pope, if you please – still, to Conscience first, and to the Pope afterwards’. Whatever his views about same-sex relationships might have been (and I have no doubt that they would have differed from mine), Newman understood that the conscience imposes an obligation – that personal integrity dictates a fundamental human duty to hear the interior voice of our conscience and to follow its demands. He learned this insight from one of the great moral theologians of the Anglican tradition, Bishop Butler (1692-1752). As the Church finds a way of negotiating the pastoral provision for the blessing of same sex relationships, it will be important for us to keep in view the role of conscience (on both sides of the argument) and to ensure that no-one is made to act against their conscience.

    The Bishops have an unenviable task as they meet over the next few months – and I shall certainly keep them in my prayers. But I will pray that they might begin to show a little courage. At some stage, the Church of England needs to stop talking and start making some decisions. When Professor Adams ended her sermon at St Mary’s almost twenty years ago, she made no bones about her Christian commitment or her love of the Church. My hope is that we can continue to recognise the commitment and faithfulness of one another, even though at times we may disagree:

    I voice these challenges as an insider, who loves the Church because Jesus loves her, because she is the home of the sacraments, and because she is one of the few remaining institutions devoted to rearing people in the knowledge and love of God as revealed in Jesus Christ. I intend my critique to be constructive, pressed in the conviction that repentance and reform are good for the body politic as well as the individual soul. I do it also with thanksgiving for those gay and lesbian Christians whose courage, love and commitment is already shaping – without much help and with considerable institutional hindrance – patterns of holy living. Like truth in all its forms, the witness of their integrity will eventually prevail (Marilyn McCord Adams, A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life).

     

  • What is Marriage? Living in Love and Faith… and Denial

    by Rachel Starr, tutor at The Queen’s Foundation for Ecumenical Theological Education, Birmingham

    As someone shaped by Methodist tradition, it has been an interesting experience engaging with Living in Love and Faith (2020). As you may know, the Methodist Church in Britain has spent the past few years debating its own report on marriage and relationships, God in Love Unites Us (2019). There are some similarities, and of course many differences, between the two reports. Both in their own way seek to reflect the changing social context from which and into which they speak. And yet there is little acknowledgement of how church teaching around marriage and relationships has had a limiting and sometimes deadly impact on women and other marginalized groups throughout the centuries.

    My own study of theologies of marriage began while living in Argentina. It was there that I began to see how the everyday violence that many women (and some men) experience within the context of intimate relationships, was legitimated by dominant church teaching around marriage and gender relationships. Living and studying alongside Latin American women theologians and activists helped me to see the everyday violence that occurs in homes, on the streets, and in other contexts. Many of our interactions, structures and institutions are formed and maintained through violence. Such violence may not be obvious at first, but once seen it is difficult to ignore.

    Living in Love and Faith presents an idealized view of marriage, which fails to account for problems perpetuated by Christian teaching on marriage. As one example, the document makes reference to prophetic descriptions of the covenant as a marriage, but does not acknowledge the violence of this metaphor and how it has been used to justify domestic violence over the centuries. This despite decades-long discussion of the violence of these texts by scholars such as Renita Weems.

    To read either Living in Love and Faith or God in Love Unites Us is to be presented with a view of marriage as a vocation, over which churches are divided as to who can be called and who is able to benefit from the gift of marriage. But what if marriage was less of a gift and more of a problem? Of course, marriage can offer stability and friendship, as well as significant social and financial benefits. But some studies suggest that women who marry have a lower life expectancy than single women, whereas men who marry have a higher life expectancy than single men. Such studies suggest that for women marriage is, at a very basic level, life-limiting.

    My concern with how marriage is presented in Living in Love and Faith is that the negative impact marriage can have on women is not acknowledged. While the report does make mention of domestic violence, it seeks to contain what is an everyday reality for one in three women worldwide by literally ‘containing’ the brief discussion of domestic violence (written by myself) in a text box. As such it does not inform the wider discussion of marriage.

    In my own work, Reimagining theologies of marriage in contexts of domestic violence (2018), I explore Augustine’s notion of the good of marriage. Augustine proposed that marriage should be valued because it can generate fidelity, children and lasting union, a view which continues to shape the church’s understanding of the purpose of marriage. In contrast, I suggest that a good marriage is one that is concerned with the bodily wellbeing of both partners, and that contributes to the positive transformation of the wider community. The need for marriage to be life-giving for those both within and beyond it is reflected in Willie James Jennings’ criticism of what he sees as the church’s obsession with married couples. In his commentary on Acts, Jennings argues that for a marriage to be good, it must locate the couple in the wider community, so that there is a shared sense of purpose and distribution of resources. Jennings’ words came to mind recently when I read about the marriage of actor Sophia Bush and social entrepreneur Grant Hughes which took place in Tulsa, Oklahoma in 2022. The couple designed their marriage celebrations around their commitment to social justice, inviting guests to spend time with local activists and artists, all the time asking how their marriage might generate more sustainable, equal and inclusive ways of living.

    In Reimagining Marriage, I look also at two models of marriage which dominant western Christian traditions: marriage as covenant and marriage as sacrament. Both of these are present within Living in Love and Faith and God in Love Unites Us. Yet neither report critically assesses these models or acknowledges their limitations. To summarise from my own research: the covenantal model is marked by exclusion, inequality and violence; and the sacramental model encourages self-sacrifice and limits access to divorce.

    While I recognise the importance of equal access to marriage, I wonder whether it is really the goal many perceive it to be. Is marriage unavoidably problematic, a relationship built on inequality, restriction and control?

    The new Methodist service of marriage, designed for the celebration of marriage between any two people, is a hopeful sign that marriage can be reimagined in more equal ways. The marriage party enter the church together; and since the couple is non-gendered, there are no assumptions about who speaks first.

    Alongside more equal forms of marriage, I suggest that marriage should be reimagined as a place of grace, in which bodies are honoured, everyday struggles are acknowledged, and new more just and equal ways of relating are anticipated. Rather than describing marriage as a sacrament or covenant, perhaps a more helpful, inviting image for today is that proposed by the medieval English theologian Aelred of Rievaulx, who described marriage as a rickety boat, which takes constant work to keep afloat, and which, if it is to survive, must be focused on the common good.

  • 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.