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  • Marriage, Sabbath, Creation and Resurrection: A Response to Martin Davie on Marriage, Creation, and Fulfilment

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

    This essay is offered as a response to a critique by Martin Davie of my earlier piece, Marriage, Sabbath, Creation, and Jesus’s Embodiment of Justice. I am grateful for the seriousness with which Martin has engaged with the argument. His response is careful, rooted in Scripture, and motivated by a concern for theological coherence. The disagreement between us, however, is not primarily about whether marriage is good, creational, or worthy of honour. It concerns how creation itself is to be understood in the light of Jesus Christ, and how far appeals to “creation” can bear the theological weight being placed upon them.

    Methodological Clarification

    Before turning to the specific points of disagreement, it may be helpful to clarify the theological method at work in what follows. My argument does not proceed by setting Scripture against tradition, nor by privileging contemporary experience over biblical witness. Rather, it reads Scripture canonically and christologically, attending to how creation, law, and human institutions are interpreted and fulfilled in the teaching and practice of Jesus himself. Creation is therefore understood teleologically rather than statically: its meaning is disclosed not only at its origin in Genesis, but in its fulfilment in resurrection and new creation. Within this framework, the goods of creation — including marriage, Sabbath, and sacrament — are affirmed as real and holy, while also recognised as provisional in form. Discernment, on this account, is not a departure from faithfulness but an intrinsic feature of a living tradition shaped by Scripture, oriented toward Christ, and attentive to the Spirit’s work in the Church.

    Creation, Genesis, and the Shape of Human Life

    Martin Davie argues that Genesis 1–2 establishes marriage as a fixed creational institution, such that later Christian discernment must conform to that original pattern. Genesis certainly presents sexual difference, relationality, and companionship as part of God’s good creation (Genesis 1:27; 2:18–24). The question, however, is whether Genesis functions as an institutional charter for marriage in the strong sense being claimed.

    Jewish interpretation itself cautions against reading Genesis so rigidly. Rabbinic traditions preserve interpretations in which the first human (ha-adam) is understood as an undifferentiated or androgynous being, later divided into differentiated bodies (Genesis Rabbah 8.1; Babylonian Talmud, Berakhot 61a). Whether or not one accepts these readings, their existence matters: they show that Genesis has not historically been read as offering a single, metaphysical definition of marriage. Rather, marriage emerges within Jewish thought as a covenantal and social ordering of life, shaped by commandment and community rather than ontology alone (Satlow, 2001).

    Appeals to “creation” that treat marriage as fixed, exhaustive, and self-interpreting therefore risk pressing Genesis more rigidly than the interpretive tradition from which Jesus himself emerges.

    Sabbath, Law, and Jesus’s Hermeneutic

    Martin Davie resists the analogy between Sabbath and marriage, arguing that Jesus does not relativise Sabbath law but restores its true meaning. On this point there is significant agreement. Jesus does not abolish Sabbath. But he does refuse to absolutise its form.

    “The Sabbath was made for humanity, not humanity for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27). This is not merely a repetition of existing law but a hermeneutical claim about how divine commands function in relation to human flourishing. Jesus repeatedly authorises acts of healing and restoration on the Sabbath (Mark 3:1–6; Luke 13:10–17), insisting that the purpose of the law is disclosed in mercy and life rather than in rigid preservation of form (Sanders, 1985).

    The analogy with marriage does not rest on their equivalence, but on the shared theological logic: both are creational goods whose meaning is disclosed in fulfilment, not frozen at origin. If Sabbath can be both creational and subject to radical reinterpretation in the light of God’s redemptive purposes, then appeals to creation alone cannot foreclose discernment about marriage.

    Marriage and the Resurrection

    This becomes unmistakable when we attend to Jesus’s explicit teaching about marriage and the life to come. In response to a question about resurrection, Jesus states plainly: “In the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage” (Matthew 22:30; Mark 12:25; Luke 20:35).

    This is not a marginal aside. It is a direct claim about the structures of human life before God. Whatever marriage is, it does not belong to the final form of redeemed life. Marriage, on Jesus’s own account, is good but provisional. It orders desire, fidelity, and care under the conditions of finitude and mortality. In the resurrection, those conditions no longer obtain (Wright, 2007).

    This does not diminish marriage; it situates it within a teleological account of creation. Creation is not denied but fulfilled. Fulfilment, however, involves transformation rather than mere preservation. Any theological argument that treats marriage as eschatologically final risks standing in tension with Jesus’s own teaching on precisely this point.

    Creation Read from the End, Not Only from the Beginning

    Martin Davie’s account of creation proceeds largely from Genesis forwards. Christian theology, however, has consistently insisted that creation must be read from resurrection backwards. The Christian hope is not the restoration of Edenic arrangements, but new creation (Romans 8:18–25; Revelation 21–22). As Paul insists, “the present form of this world is passing away” (1 Corinthians 7:31).

    Creation’s meaning is therefore disclosed not only at its origin, but at its fulfilment in Christ. Marriage belongs to the ordering of life in this age. Its goodness is real and its disciplines are serious, but its form is not ultimate (O’Donovan, 1986).

    Sabbath, Sacrament, and Provisional Holiness

    The same eschatological logic applies to Sabbath, Church, and sacrament. Sabbath is creational, yet Jewish tradition has long described it as a foretaste of the world to come rather than its final form (Heschel, 1951). In the resurrection, Sabbath is not abolished but universalised: what was once a regulated interruption of labour becomes the permanent condition of life lived wholly within God’s rest.

    Likewise, the sacraments belong to the time of pilgrimage. The Eucharist is a real participation in Christ now (1 Corinthians 10:16), but it mediates a presence that, in the life to come, is no longer mediated. Classical Christian theology has consistently held that the sacraments cease not because they are false, but because they have accomplished their purpose (Augustine, City of God XXII).

    Marriage belongs within this same theological pattern: real, holy, and necessary within this age, yet provisional in form. To recognise this is not to weaken marriage, but to take fulfilment seriously.

    Discernment and Ecclesial Responsibility

    Martin Davie suggests that claims of harm only have force if one already accepts the moral legitimacy of same-sex relationships. I disagree. Exclusion, lack of recognition, and enforced invisibility within the Body of Christ constitute real forms of harm regardless of one’s prior moral conclusions. Christian discernment has always involved holding doctrine and lived experience together, rather than allowing appeals to creation to foreclose the process in advance (Williams, 1989).

    Conclusion

    The disagreement between us is not about whether marriage is good, creational, or worthy of honour. It is about whether creation is static or teleological; whether Jesus fulfils creation by preserving its forms unchanged, or by bringing them to their true end.

    Jesus does not deny creation. He fulfils it — and in doing so, he relativises what is provisional without emptying it of meaning. Marriage, Sabbath, and sacrament all belong within that movement from gift to fulfilment. To treat any one of them as eschatologically final is not fidelity to creation, but a failure to take resurrection seriously enough.

     

     

    Bibliography

    • Augustine. The City of God. Book XXII.
    • Davie, Martin. 2026. “A Response to Robert Thompson: Marriage, Sabbath, Creation, and Jesus’s Embodiment of Justice.”

    A response to Robert Thompson, ‘Marriage, Sabbath, Creation and Jesus’s Embodiment of Justice’

    • Heschel, Abraham Joshua. The Sabbath. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1951.
    • O’Donovan, Oliver. Resurrection and Moral Order. Leicester: IVP, 1986.
    • Sanders, E.P. Jesus and Judaism. London: SCM Press, 1985.
    • Satlow, Michael L. Jewish Marriage in Antiquity. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001.
    • Williams, Rowan. “The Body’s Grace.” Theology and Sexuality 2 (1989): 7–28.
    • Wright, N.T. Surprised by Hope. London: SPCK, 2007.

     

     

  • A Tale of Two Reports

    by Revd Canon Neil Patterson, Vice-Dean of Bristol Cathedral and Chair of Together for the Church of England

    A little while ago I heard for the first time of the 1995 Board for Social Responsibility report Something to Celebrate: Valuing Relationships in Church and Society. The person to whom I was speaking recalled this as being published at about the time when they were ordained, and as a good thing in its reflection on marriage and relationships, and they wondered what had happened to it. Immediately piqued and slightly unsettled to realise that this report existed, I set about investigating. It was easy enough to obtain a second-hand copy, but also very interesting to discover how it was received by General Synod, and to recognise the remarkable parallel, but different outcome, to the 2023 Archbishops’ Commission report Love Matters. 30 years have seen a sea-change in attitude that is much wider than the over-publicised divisions about homosexuality, and I offer this account as a relief to those of us weary of acting as the proxy for all Church debate around relationships and marriage.

    You see, Something to Celebrate has an awful lot in common with Love Matters, although the more recent report curiously never mentions the former. Both explore the current nature of family life at length, drawing on a wide range of research to recognise the varied shape of families in England today. Both reports commend the quality of relationships rather than their specific form, and recognise that children can be raised well and successfully in different sorts of households. Both commend an open welcome by churches, and various aspects of state support for family life (speaking into rather different times for that). Critically for their reception, both reports deliberately shy away from particularly commending (heterosexual) marriage as the basis for family life. Both reports are long and thorough, and I commend reading them in full (Love Matters is here)

    In public reception, though, the reports fared very differently. The publication of Something to Celebrate in June 1995 was greeted by newspaper headlines with variants of ‘Church backs living in sin’ and, by the time it came to be debated at Synod in November, there was clearly a substantial head of opposition, signalled also by the last-minute resignation of Alan Storkey from the Working Party after they declined to accept his more conservative minority report for inclusion. The Bishop of Liverpool therefore introduced the debate with a good degree of caution. I am not sure if this was normal Synod practice for the time, but the debate was structured as a single block of speeches, at the end of which both a motion to Take Note of the report, and a Motion of clauses, with proposed amendments which had been introduced earlier in the debate, were all voted on.

    The tone was set decisively by George Carey as Archbishop, who thanked those who had worked on the report, but made it clear, to widely-reported applause, that he disagreed on the central point that there could be any equivalence between cohabitation and marriage. Other speakers – including, strikingly, Jeffrey John – criticised what they felt to be the weak theology of the report, but some defended it, including Jim Thompson as Bishop of Bath & Wells. The result was, very unusually, a strong division on the Take Note question, which went to a vote by Houses that registered the significant opposition (23-4; 164-60; 122-104) especially in the Laity.

    The four-part motion offered already included a first clause to ‘strongly affirm…that marriage provides the proper context for sexual relationships and the bringing up of children,’ along with commendation of the report and its specific recommendations. This was presumably because there was already recognition of the need to adopt a more conservative position, and motions to remove this clause failed. An amendment by Pete Broadbent to include reference to the 1958 Lambeth Conference resolutions on marriage and family life passed, meaning that the final motion, passed 428-15, was clearly something of a repudiation of the liberal position expressed in Something to Celebrate. With customary lack of haste, the House of Bishops subsequently published in 1999 Marriage: A Teaching Document which represented something of an official crystallisation of that decision.

    By contrast, Love Matters came out in an age when very little that the Church of England says attracts media attention. The chairs of the Commission, Professor Janet Walker and Bishop Paul Butler, plugged it by an article in the Church Times which drew a single hostile letter for the lack of focus on marriage, and a few disappointed conservative blogs flagged up the same point. But, perhaps deliberately, it did not garner much comment alongside the LLF hullabaloo, in spite of the obvious relevance of a report calling for the Church to value families in all their diversity. As Love Matters was not a Synod paper, it did not come for Take Note, but was presented by a motion for debate in February 2024, commending it across the Church, encouraging the Archbishop’s Council to make practical proposals, and Government also to act. Against these, a single amendment affirming the value of “marriage, especially when loving” was offered by Julie Maxwell.

    The debate on the amendment was not extensive, but it was clear that Dr Maxwell represented the viewpoint held by Archbishop Carey and the strong majority of Synod in 1995, that any report about family life needed to uphold the place of marriage. The Bishop of Durham was happy to accept her amendment, and she was supported by Christopher Townsend, but opposed by Jo Winn-Smith, who argued that it was unavoidably discriminatory. The amendment was pushed to a vote by Houses by the Bishop of Manchester, and fell in all three (8-8-1; 61-81-5; 74-84-8). The debate ran overnight, and in the morning a full commendation of the report by Archbishop Justin was followed by further conservative speeches from members including Matt Beer and Prudence Dailey, concerned by the lack of clarity on marriage. The final vote was therefore also taken to Houses, but passed strongly in all three (23-0-0: 97-30-19; 97-38-12).

    As noted above, it took the House of Bishops four years (fast work by their standards?) to produce Marriage: A Teaching Document in response to the Synod debate on Something to Celebrate. My suggestion is that the very different debate and outcome on Love Matters is an invitation to them to revisit their predecessors’ work of a generation ago, and to consider presenting a theology of human relationships which responds more imaginatively to the great diversity of family situations where love is found in England today, and which abandons the cult of an unreal idea of marriage that has dominated for too long.

  • A Response to “The Exercise of Discipline and Clergy Exemplarity in the Church of England: The Case of Same-Sex Civil Marriages: A Report of the Faith and Order Commission” (GS Misc 1431)

    Fr Thomas Sharp is a priest theologian based in the South East of England and is also Provincial Secretary of the Society of Catholic Priests

    This was the third report which briefed the House of Bishops before they made their decisions in October about Living in Love and Faith (LLF). It purports to explore theological issues relating to three possible ways by which clergy in a marriage to a person of the same sex might be licensed in the Church of England. It also purports to explore what it means that clergy are called to an exemplary life, and what implications there might be for licensing married people who currently would need a civil partnership in order to be licensed.

    The Report claims to do all this whilst ‘not endeavour[ing] to resolve those differences, either finding for one side or making clear a previously unknown path to consensus’ (§214). It does this by almost entirely sidelining the views and voices of LGBTQIA+ people, presenting a viewpoint significantly informed by North American Evangelicalism as if it were a balanced presentation of Anglican variety. Of the 24 modern theologians engaged with in this report (Gregory Nazianzen and George Herbert are the other two theologians included):

    • 100% are white
    • 96% are white men
    • 83% are straight or in opposite sex marriages
    • 46% are North American
    • 12% are ex-gay / same-sex-attracted identifying evangelicals
    • Only one person, at 4% of the whole, is an affirming gay Anglican with a partner.

    The one affirming gay Anglican contribution cited is from Jeffrey John, in a book which was published in 1993 when I was two years old.

    This report does not meaningfully engage with the theology produced by or read by LGBTQIA+ Anglicans, or people who hold an inclusive theology. Simply directing us to the LLF Resources does not constitute theological engagement (§100). This report is not balanced or representative. It should not have represented itself as being such.

    However, it is lengthy and technical, and gives a very good sense of being comprehensive, even whilst it utterly fails to present or even really take into account the voices of those most affected by its subject matter. This is a shamefully inadequate Report whose omissions (wilful or otherwise) have potential to mislead its readers.

    In order to make this meandering and confusing report more intelligible, my response to it comes under six headings:

    1. Make doctrine a moving target
    2. “Communal regulation”, discipline and toxic theologies of power
    3. Are the clergy a special case?
    4. Leading us to think we are talking about sex whenever marriage is mentioned
    5. Despite divorce, we really do still hold to the traditional doctrine of marriage
    6. Disempower the Bishops

    This is a report which overwhelms by the sheer variety of arguments it includes. Here, I cannot deal with them all, particularly the biblical section and its lack of meaningful engagement with LGBTQIA+ readings of important texts.

     

    1 – Make doctrine a moving target

    The FAOC Report on Doctrine defined doctrine as: ‘true knowledge about God that is communally authorised by warrant in the Holy Scriptures and is, therefore, communally regulative’ (GS Misc 1429, §146). However, in this report, that simple definition varies. Early on, ‘authorised by warrant in the Holy scriptures’ is watered down and communal regulation does not appear: ‘Doctrine… is true knowledge about the living God, grounded in or agreeable to the Holy Scriptures, that the Church of England determines by a process of communal authorisation’ (§8).

    Later, elements of both are mixed as doctrine is ‘true knowledge about the living God that is communally authorised and communally regulative’ (§84 & §212). But the scriptures seem to have vanished. On one level this might be a symptom of speedy or sloppy drafting. However, on another, it could be understood as an attempt to give an impression of a clear definition of what doctrine is and how it operates in these arguments, without being willing to be pinned down to any actually clear definition. This sort of slipperiness and unclarity of meaning runs throughout the report.

     

     2 – “Communal regulation”, discipline and toxic theologies of power

    A theological high point comes in §§12-17, when the heresy of Donatism is dealt with and it is concluded that individuals and the wider church can have confidence in the sacramental ministry of a minister, even if they err in doctrine. However, as the report proceeds to outline a theology of discipline, it is unnervingly one-way, authoritarian and entirely lacking in awareness of the operative theologies of power which have led to both the abuse crisis in the worldwide Church and the failure of the Church of England itself to respond meaningfully to abuse.

    The report links discipline with discipleship, and it is established with reference to The Homilies that ‘it is imperative to think of discipline in both its proactive, formative sense and also its reformative and punitive senses in order to understand it fully’ (§17). This is good, but the formative is not really considered. It is the reformative and punitive senses of discipline with which this report is interested, i.e. what sledge-hammers the bishops can hit us with, whether it be for our benefit or to teach us a lesson.

    A survey then follows of reformative discipline as described in the liturgies of ordination of deacons, priests and bishops in Common Worship and the BCP. It entirely lacks any meaningful awareness of the fact that the power to discipline can be incredibly dangerous, despite the liturgy enjoining the bishop to use their authority: ‘not to destruction, but to salvation; not to hurt, but to help’ (§24). The vocation of a bishop ‘to minister discipline, but with compassion’ leads to a reminder that even a compassionate bishop may also need to punish: ‘it may be that such a response is the compassionate one’ (§27). But there is no awareness in the report that hurt and destruction, i.e. abuse, may result from such episcopal behaviour.

    The rather odd concept of “communal regulation”, which I explored (and we were all no doubt confused by) in the liturgical context with reference to the report on Doctrine, reappears. Apparently, the vow made by bishops to ‘accept the discipline of this Church, exercising authority with justice, courtesy and love’ (§29) is when a bishop puts themselves under “communal regulation”. What is entirely overlooked is the significance of justice, courtesy and love in the exercise of that ministry by any individual bishop, or the College or House of Bishops as a whole.

    The same blinkered focus is apparent in the report’s reading of the latter part of the consecration prayer:

    Further on the Archbishop prays, ‘Give him humility, that he may use his authority to heal, not to hurt; to build up, not to destroy’, a reference to 2 Cor 10:8 and 13:10. The emphasis, like in the rephrased declaration, is on the corrective and reformative aspects of discipline.

    It takes deliberate one-track thinking to fail to spot the critique of punitive authoritarian power in this prayer. Punitive authority is the focus of this report. That seems to be what “communal regulation” actually means.

    This disturbing theology of power in the report comes out strongly when clergy families are considered. Canon C26’s injunction to the minister to order their life and their family’s lives in a manner ‘that provides a wholesome example and pattern to the community’ (§36) is presented uncritically. Though the duty to order our family members’ lives is ameliorated since the phrase ‘as much as in him lies’ is interpreted to remind us of ‘the limitations of any individual to determine the behaviour of other family members in all times and places’ (§37). But it is crystal clear that “communal regulation” should be exercised in the home as well, mostly I imagine over wives and children, but over clergy husbands and extended family as well. This is not a theology of power which a responsible theologian simply states uncritically.

    There is a hint that this dangerous and toxic theology of power might be applicable in wider discipleship (“heavy discipling” is one euphemism for spiritual abuse and grooming, after all). The report notes, again uncritically, the linguistic or etymological links between spiritual discipline, church discipline and discipleship: ‘The complementary relationship between spiritual discipline and church discipline would indicate the broad range between the proactive, formative and the condemnatory, punitive ideas that inhere in the single word discipline’ (§43). Tellingly, throughout this passage, the role of the ‘authority figure’ as the exerciser of discipline in its various forms is emphasised.

    Finally, the image of a doctor prescribing medicine from Gregory Nazianzen’s second Oration is used to support this broader deployment of discipline (§46). This is particularly unfortunate and ironic. Gregory wrote his second Oration shortly after his ordination, having fled his post because he did not think he was able to bear the weight of the pastoral duty imposed upon him. He writes in a manner which emphasises the importance and weightiness of pastoral care, almost to an absurd extent. This is an apologia for his belief that he should not be entrusted with such authority to discipline. It is not a suggestion that every bishop and priest should start prescribing punitive medicine.

    This isn’t a funny theological blooper. Rather, it reveals just how far the compilers of the report were not aware of the issues of power underlying the texts with which they engage. Bishops might well read Selina Stone’s A Heavy Yoke: Theology, Power and Abuse in the Church (London: SCM Press, 2025) before they decide that this is the sort of power in relation to God’s people which they want to define themselves as having. If they do, they need to deploy it in all areas of their episcopal ministry and equally on all people in the church, not just LGBTQIA+ people. Gregory, given the choice, ran away from it.

     

    3 – Are the Clergy a Special Case?

    In order to answer this question, the report presents a bewildering array of arguments, many of which are specious or based in unreality. I shall try here to present this torrent of uncompleted ideas in a way which is moderately digestible.

    First, the report argues that ‘The broadest possible jurisdiction one can conceive for church discipline includes baptised Christians on an electoral roll in the Church of England’ (§48). You might think we were about to get a sense of how “communal regulation” applies in the community of the baptised. But this is passed over, moving on to a discussion of Lay Ministers (§49). It seems simply to be accepted that discipline is not something which touches the baptised who are not licensed. This is unsatisfactory and inconsistent with the theology of discipline presented thus far.

    This gap in the argument means that the next argument, that clergy are held to a ‘higher moral bar’ than the laity (§50), seems to arise solely by virtue of ordination. No argument is offered to justify the statement that due to the ‘exceptional nature of holy orders’ the church ‘expects a public transparency about many aspects of life, including areas in which lay Christians are afforded the ease of privacy’ (§50). This is an unreasoned distinction from the privacy afforded to the laity which is presented as self-evident. And should then the bishop, as even more exceptional than the priest, be required for example to publish their bank statements on the diocesan website? There is no theological substance here.

    A strange argument is presented about the call for clergy ‘to witness by example against the norms of the culture in which they sojourn’ (§53). It is not stated directly, but we are used to this sort of homophobic gaslighting, which argues that we are not to be in ‘normative alignment with the shifting sands of cultural values’ (§52), those shifting values being a fictional secular society which is a nirvana of inclusion for LGBTQIA+ people. That secular inclusive society against which the church is called to witness is fiction and a foil. Society is deeply homophobic, even as it is deeply misogynistic and racist still. Homophobia in the Church is in lockstep with the homophobic abuse and discrimination we experience in the secular world every day. It’s not countercultural, it isn’t cool, and it isn’t a witness.

    The distinctive witness of clergy to procure the good conduct of children and their spouses is considered again in the context of this cultural witness. This is passed off masterfully with the sentence: ‘Modern assumptions about the alignment of private, domestic space with public order differ significantly from the assumptions in [the pastoral epistles]’ (§59). It is odd that the report should accept women’s lib and contemporary appreciation of children’s dignity and autonomy so easily after all the handwringing about being counter-cultural. If applied to LGBTQIA+ people, it is simply not clear why the same counter-cultural discipline would not be applicable to women, children and those in clergy households, and no arguments are made.

    The report advances an argument that the vocation to ordained ministry is a ‘whole-life dedication’ which makes it ‘difficult, if not impossible, to separate the moral from the exemplary imperative in a life conceived as a form of witness’ (§64). This is an extraordinary argument for an Anglican to advance, especially as it is essentially the root of the argument for clerical celibacy in the Roman Catholic Church. If ordination is ‘whole-life dedication’ to God, then heterosexual marriage and dedication to another person also should be inappropriate for the clergy.

    Then the report argues that we must take particular account of the perceptions of outsiders.

    The pastoral epistles… even specify that the exemplar ‘must be well thought of by outsiders’ (1 Timothy 3:7). It behoves us to consider the same in the 21st century just as it was commended in the 1st century. In practice, it is inescapable.

    This is blunt application. And it is hard to see why this argument for not ordaining or licensing those in same-sex marriages would not also hold for women, immigrants, disabled people and people who are racialised. Their ordination, as they will tell you, also prompts push-back and elicits ableist, racist and misogynistic abuse and even scandal. And yet again there is no considered argument in the report about why this problem of perception should only apply to LGBTQIA+ people.

    There then is yet another strange argument: that allowing clergy to marry their same-sex partner would ‘alter the context in which Christian exemplary witness is offered and point to the fragmentation within wider society of a consensus on the nature of marriage and sexual intimacy.’ This is simply delusional. There is no fragmentation in secular society on the issue of sexual intimacy. Rather, there is general agreement in secular society that the place of sexual intimacy is no longer anything to do with marriage. Indeed, for even the majority of conservatives in the Church (at the level of operative theology rather than theory) the question is really about what sexual intimacies you enjoy before marriage and which ones you save for your spouse. Again, cultural witness is set up as a straw man, in which resistance to LGBTQIA+ people is supposedly the keystone holding up the Church’s moral witness.

     

    4 – Leading us to think we are talking about sex whenever marriage is mentioned

    In §68 the report acknowledges that clergy households where a couple are in a civil partnership can be exemplary, but it is not clear why those in a same-sex marriage would not be. And in §70 the report acknowledges that things are hard for Christian couples in civil partnerships, but there is no sense that the writers of the report are aware of how the Church’s approach following the 2005 pastoral statement also impacts the broader Christian family gathered around the couple.

    At the heart of the problem here is that the report refuses to say plainly that a same-sex marriage has no more presumption of sexual activity than a civil partnership. The Marriage (Same Sex Couples) Act 2013 inserts s.12(1-2) of the Matrimonial Causes Act 1973, which disapplies the requirement that same-sex couples consummate their union in order to have a valid marriage. In law, there is no expectation that a gay couple who are married will be having sex, any more than there is for a civil partnership.

    The failure to acknowledge this amidst all the handwringing is one of the largest and most uncomfortable omissions of this discussion of “clergy exemplarity”. The readers of the report are left with the false impression that marriages mean gay sex while civil partnerships mean gay celibacy. This is a false impression. If clergy can be exemplary as civil partners, living a sexually sacrificial life for the Church, there is no reason why they could not also do the same as a married couple. There is no difference in terms of sexual activity between civil partnership and same-sex marriage.

    Indeed, the report stresses that ‘none of what follows intends to draw into question the current provision’ for clergy in civil partnerships. ‘It is nonetheless notable that if a pastoral accommodation is agreed [to enable the same clergy to get married] this may mean that provision [of episcopal guidance] for same-sex civil marriages and same-sex civil partnerships are different from one another’ (§93). However, given that neither involve sex, it is not at all obvious why this should be the case. Yet again, a spectre of something completely new and different is created without specifying any real difference, theological or otherwise.

     

    5 – Despite divorce, we really do still hold to the traditional doctrine of marriage

    The report twists logic to the point of breaking in order to advance two arguments: (i) that the bending of the doctrine of marriage which took place in order to enable the marriage of divorcees with a spouse still living is not analogous to any bending of doctrine required to enable same-sex couples in a civil marriage to be licensed; and (ii) that in any case, despite permitting the marriage of divorcees, we do actually still hold to the traditional doctrine of marriage, that it is between a man and a woman for life. Fair warning: your head will hurt trying to follow this meandering thread.

    We are told that same-sex marriage is in no way the same kind of thing as the marriage of divorcees. ‘While there are clearly similarities between the two, an argument that they are identical does not seem sustainable. Therefore, the logic used to support adding Canon C 4.5 [enabling the licensing of clergy in a second marriage] cannot be a precedent’ (§96). But no reason is given for this judgment that the two are not identical. Indeed, both marriages are a statement of the traditional doctrine, except for one thing: either the gender of the parties, or the “one man and one woman for life” bit.

    Perhaps an analogy could be constructed instead. We are told that ‘Theological reflection should always begin with scripture’ (§99), a statement which will come as a surprise to anyone versed in theological reflection as practiced in Church of England theological colleges. After this we are told that:

    It is true that Holy Scripture does not include explicit precedent for a faithful, stable, permanent same-sex relationship. Similarly, one might observe that ‘Scripture’s teaching on homosexuality is sparse and ambiguous and it is highly questionable to what extent we can derive from it any application to the ethical issue of gay relationships as it faces us today. (§99)

    This is not an argument routinely advanced by LGBTQIA+ people today, who find precedent for our relationships and identities throughout scripture. But the report entirely ignores our love for and valuing of scripture, referencing a group of mostly American straight Evangelicals talking about LGBTQIA+ people (and also referencing Jeffrey John). Unlike divorce, which does exist in scripture, LGBTQIA+ people’s lives and relationships are portrayed in the report as absent from scripture, so without precedent, so without theological existence.

    The report then charts the progress, from the Lichfield Report (1978) to the early 2000s, of the idea that a marriage can end such that a person can marry someone else. This includes: (i) the rejection of sacramental understandings of marriage and (ii) doctrinal clarifications (or developments) that marriage’s being for life was not an essential part of a marriage’s nature, only an ideal (§§111-118).

    We supposedly have arrived at a relatively straightforward conclusion: there cannot be ‘a complete analogy’ (§118) with the marriage of divorcees. However, the argument continues, now in the context of divorce and in what sense clerics’ lives are meant to be exemplary.

    The report notes (referring to St Paul and St Augustine) that marriage was itself a pastoral accommodation in the first place to the ideal of celibacy. It suggests that, when considering making pastoral provision for same-sex couples in marriages, ‘one might contend that such an approach has parallels – though inexact ones’ (§120) with the Pauline and Augustinian accommodation of marriage. However, again, it is not clear why these parallels would not be exact. A thing is not the ideal for sexual ethics, but we make accommodation for it. Why the distinction?

    The section §§122-128 duplicates the arguments of §§52-60, sometimes verbatim, about culture and exemplarity. Again, this feels like an attempt to create an illusion of a coherent argument by repeating material rather than referencing it. On the other hand, it could simply be a drafting oversight.

    The argument seems to be that the pastoral epistles are contextual and culturally referential. They represent an attempt to work out what conduct should be required of the clergy in their own day, in order to be an example of godly life (§124). And so, scripture requires us to consider what holy life looks like today.

    Insofar as the Church of England aims to support and assist those who enter holy orders with the long work of forming and fashion their lives for a visible, grounded holiness, it can only deal in the on-the-ground realities of living as an ordained person in the contemporary culture in which they sojourn. This approach follows the scriptural lead: Paul’s example in the Holy Scriptures indicates it is impossible to think about the exemplary call without considering the context in which Christian witness occurs. (§126)

    A rare, positive conclusion is reached: that it might be possible to think about exemplarity in a way which refers to shifts in understandings of what being exemplary might mean, and in a way which is also biblical.

    Therefore, the argument that clergy in a same-sex marriage may be exemplary invokes cultural context – not in any way omitting theological rigour in preference for an appeal to contemporary culture, but as a move necessitated by Holy Scripture. (§127)

    However, the argument quickly moves off again in another direction, this time truly mind-boggling. The authors of the report wish to underline that the ‘call to celibacy’ may lead ‘same-sex attracted persons’ to opt for a ‘covenanted friendship[] or celibate civil partnership’. By analogy, we are reminded that ‘similar options have always been available to anyone who is divorced with a living spouse’ (§133).  Some choose to remain celibate after a divorce ‘since their remarriage would be a stumbling block to those holding to indissolubility for marriage’ (§133). An argument is being made that because some divorced people decide to remain celibate, that is an option open to LGBTQIA+ people too.

    The report then asks why many opt instead for further marriage. ‘There are surely a number of reasons – but it is hard to escape the conclusion that one reason will be because the church teaches sexual intimacy belongs within marriage and they wish to respect that’ (§134). This is frankly bizarre. On one level it is hard to believe that anyone has ever seriously made this argument. People who are divorced remarry because they want to remarry. The serial monogamist is not making a prophetic declaration that the place for sexual intimacy (with each of their sexual partners) is within marriage. This is utterly bizarre. However, this is advanced as an example of an argument in which an analogy might be possible for extending marriage to same-sex couples who are having sex, in order to affirm the church’s teaching that the place for sex is within marriage.

    However, this argument is so preposterous that it is hard to believe that it would ever be made by anyone who actually wanted to convince the reader that same sex marriage might be a good thing. The analogy with divorce makes it absurd. If the report was seriously offering a positive argument for marriage equality, it would simply argue that the place for sex should be within lifelong marriage. And that would be an argument that many LGBTQIA+ people do actually make.

    That positive argument is finally made, almost in passing, along with an equally easily missed reference to the possibility that same-sex couples who are married might not necessarily actually be having sex:

    While it is true that a same-sex marriage – which one cannot be certain is sexually active, but for those who want to affirm same-sex relationships offers a faithful, stable, and permanent context for sexual intimacy – does present challenges to the church’s teaching on sexual intimacy, which restricts it to heterosexual marriage, there is a case that a same-sex marriage offers a model that is exemplary in our society. (§138)

    But you could have been forgiven for missing those significant points as they flew past.

     

    6 – Disempower the Bishops

    In my response to GS Misc 1430 on marriage, I noted the high emotional tone of some of the language, which seemed aimed at making the episcopal readers less inclined to exercise their episcopal prerogative. We have seen how this report might well have the same effect, but by mystifying the reader in a barrage of confusingly arrayed arguments.

    However, the sections considering the possibility that the bishops might permit clergy, who currently need to be in civil partnerships in order to receive a license, to simply get married, and that they might just decide not discipline them, do sow fear. They do this by foretelling legal uncertainty and legal challenge in a manner that suggests the bishops would be taking a course of action which could be described as courageous.

    The ideal, surely, for all of us, is that we might come to one mind, with sufficient majorities to pass legislation which pleases everyone. However, if this is not possible, the report acknowledges that it is possible ‘for the diocesan bishops to exercise their discretion in responding to a situation that raises such questions about doctrine and practice being in tension’ (§82). This is a very odd way to frame episcopal discretion which arises from the tortured logic of ‘communally regulative understanding of doctrine’ (§84) which is rehearsed again. Far more sensible would have been a simple statement of the long-established episcopal discretion which exists for a bishop to administer their diocese as they see fit. A survey of the legal and historical as well as ecclesiological grounding for this would have been particularly interesting. But I suspect it would have shattered the illusion of a church held together by its ‘communally regulative understanding of doctrine’.

    The report notes that the House of Bishops could decide to relax discipline across the Church of England. ‘This would constitute a form of communal regulation – but only of one constituent house of the General Synod’ (§190). The argument is framed to evaluate every option for episcopal action through the lens of the ‘communally regulative understanding of doctrine’. Since that concept presumes that only maximum agreement can be acceptably communally regulative, this essentially paralyses the bishop from acting in their diocese.

    It is a masterful, if strangled, conceptual power grab. So the House of Bishops as a whole cannot act because they are only one house of Synod (§190). The bishop in their diocese cannot act because this ‘would also put the approach in tension with the idea that discipline operates on a communally [sic] regulative manner’ (§192).

    Indeed, with the concept of ‘communally regulative understanding of doctrine’, the bishop is rendered powerless, and the bishops as a House are disempowered utterly. They are responsible for discipline. But they cannot exercise their prerogative when it comes to discipline. Which begs the question, what is the point of a bishop? It is a line of reasoning which only works if you remain committed to the ‘communally regulative understanding of doctrine’ and wilfully ignore 2000 years of ecclesiological theology on the role of the bishop in their diocese.

    But, lest the bishops assert their prerogative, we are told that individual bishops inhabiting their role ‘carries the greatest risk for discipline to depart from doctrine, potentially resulting in legal challenges and increased confusion over such matters’ (§197). This argument is repeated in §213 as the last paragraph of the report, just to make sure the bishops were left with a dose of panic. Peter Collier KC has taken the teeth out of this legal threat pretty convincingly. Like many of the arguments advanced in this report, it is not real.

    The bishops should not be afraid to lead, to minister and to administer. Conservative bishops have done so, interpreting doctrine more tightly in some areas and more loosely in others as fits their own beliefs about what it means to be a shepherd of Christ’s flock in their diocese. Inclusive bishops should be similarly empowered. And the House of Bishops as a whole should not let its freedom to act be utterly dissolved into communal regulation. The bishops are not merely an upper rubber-stamping chamber for the secretariat and the Synod as a whole. For this reason, above all the others, this report must not become enshrined in Church of England thinking. What it risks is a functional Presbyterianism, a synodality which is not Anglican, and a House of Bishops who are ordained and consecrated to be shepherds of Christ’s flock, but who find themselves powerless to do anything meaningful in fulfilment of that calling.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • A Response to “The Nature of Doctrine and the Living God: a Report of the Faith and Order Commission” (GS Misc 1429)

    Fr Thomas Sharp is a priest theologian based in the South East of England and is also Provincial Secretary of the Society of Catholic Priests

    We can now see the legal advice and theological briefing which the House of Bishops was given before making their October decisions on Living in Love and Faith (LLF). One of these, the report of the Faith and Order Commission entitled The Nature of Doctrine and the Living God (GS Misc 1429), surveys Anglican understandings of the development of doctrine and the role theology has to play in the life of the Church. Putting it succinctly, the report makes it pretty clear that support for the Prayers of Love and Faith (not even for equal marriage) would probably constitute a “change” of doctrine which would also constitute an unacceptable change in our understanding of what scripture is, who God is, and who we are as created beings.

    Church reports are never as satisfying in theological terms as a good academic paper or book. They have different purposes and different standards for the arguments they make. And we also do not know which members of the Faith and Order Commission really contributed to it, and how, and to what extent its membership would agree with all the arguments made. I suspect that they don’t all feel excellent about this report. But we do not know any of this any more than we know whether any of the bishops have dissented from recent decisions and why. So we are left to evaluate the Report on its own terms, and to ask generous questions of those who may or may not have written the arguments it makes.

    It must be said from the outset that it is a strange document. It does have a few bloopers, as all reports do. The comment in §4 of the extended summary that ‘As the greatest of the medieval scholastics, Aquinas is representative of the thinking of the church catholic’ is certainly entertaining. It presents Aquinas’ thought as settled and established, ignoring the fact that the turmoil in the Roman Catholic church over the past 200 years has largely been caused by fundamental disagreement about what Thomas Aquinas meant, and whether the Aquinas we are talking about is his direct writings or the tens of generations of his interpreters who came after.

    As a scholar of catholic theology, a blooper like this does make my eyes roll involuntarily. But more problematically, it represents an attempt in this Report to present doctrine as something generally static, generally serene, a quiet lake in which even its dynamism is limited to the occasional wave breaking on the shoreline of its boundaries.

    But this is theological and historical make-believe. The theology of Paul was a seismic shock to the world. The emergence of the urban episcopate had monks and citizens rioting in the streets of the Mediterranean. The theology of Augustine was a genuine shock to the Church. Even the theology of Thomas Aquinas, with his startling new Aristotelian approach, was shocking and new, and was not and is not uncritically accepted in the church catholic.

    The doctrine of the church has never been worked out calmly and quietly. That isn’t how people work, especially not when we believe things dearly and love fervently the God about whom we are trying to speak and teach. Any portrayal of doctrine as settled and serene is fantasy. Well argued fantasy. But fantasy nevertheless.

    Section III of the report attempts to construct an Anglican sense of what doctrine is and where its limits are. It does this with a very eminent group of white theologians from the UK and North America, 22% of which are women. But it seems to pretend that the rest of the Anglican Communion and humanity has nothing to offer. They are or were all (John Henry Newman probably aside) either straight or in heterosexual marriages. Apparently nobody who would be directly affected by the Prayers of Love and Faith has ever thought about doctrine. Certainly never in the global south. There are people, even LGBTQIA+ people, South of the equator and East of Suffolk.

    In section III a degree of complexity is dealt with. But this is jettisoned in its summary synthesis §139-146 where a seductively unclear conclusion is presented:

    The nature of doctrine might be summarised as true knowledge about God that is communally authorised by warrant in the Holy Scriptures and is, therefore, communally regulative. (§146)

    What does “Communally Regulative” actually mean? Does it have a conservative meaning of establishing the bare minimum of precepts which a person must accept in order to be confident of their salvation, in the sense of Article VI of the Articles of Religion? Or does it have a broader, more liberal application, in the sense that ‘those things a Christian is required to know, believe, and observe are available to all in their reading of Scripture’ (§172) and that whatever lies outside this is not to be permitted. The Report acknowledges that the latter approach ‘is not expressed in the Church of England’s historical formularies per se’ (fn. 154).

    The former, more conservative approach, might fit better the doctrine of the scriptures found in the Book of Common Prayer and the historic formularies of the Church of England. English Anglicanism, at least in its formularies, is conservative about what it considers to be a “first order” issue. If anything ever mentioned in scripture becomes a “first order” issue, simply by virtue of the fact that it is mentioned in scripture, doctrine will simply cease to function as a useful means by which the Church teaches God’s people what their salvation is, and where their hope should be. Just because we feel very strongly about something at the moment, on either side, does not make it a first order issue.

    The knots a more liberal and expansive approach to what is a “first order” issue can get us into are clear in §171 of the conclusion. To pull at one thread of the great edifice of “first order” doctrine which has been built up seems to threaten to unravel the whole.

    For many, the doctrine of marriage as it has been articulated historically foregrounds a clearly defined set of biblical texts. Furthermore, those advancing that argument maintain those texts are decisive in their teaching that only relationship between one man and one woman may be offered a form of divine authorisation in a marriage service, blessing, or prayer. To argue otherwise – as those in support of the PLF do – appears to constitute a simultaneous challenge to the doctrine of marriage, the doctrines that marriage refers to (such as creation and redemption), and also the doctrine of Scripture. (§171)

    The illusion of a near eternally settled body of doctrine which peacefully and unchangeably has taught and guided God’s people is both a historical fantasy, and also dangerous, as our theology becomes so simply overconnected that everything is raised to being a “first order” issue. Such theology is not strong. It is brittle. It is magisterial. It is expansive, regulatory and tends towards the authoritarian. It moves us ever closer to the next divisive issue and the next schism. It makes “windows into men’s souls” beyond what is necessary to assure them of their salvation. In that sense, it is deeply un-anglican.

  • Living in Love and Faith: Where is the Power?

    by Revd Ruth Harley (Vicar, Cowgate and Priest in Charge, Newbiggin Hall)

    Back at the start of the Living in Love and Faith process (LLF), one of the more useful resources to be produced was the ‘Pastoral Principles’ – a set of six concepts intended to enable better conversations across difference. One of the Pastoral Principles was “pay attention to power”. And yet, as we take in the latest update on LLF from the House of Bishops, it seems evident that little if any attention has really been paid to power in the course of the LLF process.

    Power is a slippery thing. It hides in plain sight, and works in ways which can be hard to grasp. And yet, if we do actually pay attention to power, and name how power is being used in in a particular situation, it can be deeply revealing.

    Power is an important theological concept. We speak of God as omnipotent – all powerful. We read Paul’s description of “Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” We might hear someone describe “the Holy Spirit moving powerfully” in a particular church or event. But what kind of power is this? Very often we don’t stop to examine it too closely. And unexamined power is always dangerous.

    I am not, here, attempting to offer a fully worked-out theology of power (for that, I recommend Anna Mercedes’ excellent book Power For). But I do want to consider the role of power which has led to this latest set of decisions from the House of Bishops.

    Sometimes it is helpful to separate out the church’s “espoused theology” – what we say we believe – from its “operant theology” – what the things we do and how we do them reveal about what we believe. Where those two theologies are at odds, it can be very revealing.

    The church’s espoused theology of power is one of equality and justice, but also of self-abnegation, servanthood, “God’s power made perfect in human weakness”. The story we tell about how power exists in the church is one of the foot-washing, self-emptying power of love which we see in Christ.

    But very often this is not the operant theology of power in the church, it is not how we really live and relate to each other. Certainly the operant theology of power in the LLF process is something very different, and if we really do pay attention to power, to how it actually works, rather than how it is spoken about, we start to see some of the theological problems underlying this latest set-back in the slow and painful process.

    Firstly, the espoused theology of power contained within the LLF process is one of equality: that we all approach the process from equal positions, with equal power, with equal concerns. This is demonstrably not so. And a failure to acknowledge an imbalance of power always works in favour of those with whom the power already lies. The operant theology of LLF is one in which LGBTQ+ members of the church (and to a lesser extent our allies) simultaneously have less institutional power, and more at stake – our identities, livelihoods, vocations, relationships, in addition to the theological, ecclesial and missional concerns which all parties bring to the LLF process. If this inequality goes unacknowledged, as it largely has, then everything that is built on that espoused theology of equal power will be at best precarious, and at worst false and manipulative.

    Secondly, the espoused theology of power within the church is one in which divine power, and therefore power within the church, functions very differently to worldly power. And yet, the attention paid to money and the threat of its withdrawal by conservative churches during the LLF process suggests a rather different operant theology.

    Thirdly, there is the question of whose voice is heard, and how. The espoused theology of LLF is that all voices are heard equally. And yet… The attention given to threats of schism, threats of diminishing numbers and income, by those promoting a conservative stance on sexuality is vastly greater than that given to the many LGBTQ+ folks and allies who have quietly walked away, or who have bravely spoken about the harm done to them and to those they love by conservative and sometimes openly homophobic church teaching, whose voices remain largely unheard, silenced or ignored. The operant theology of the LLF process is that some voices are worth more than others.

    Finally, there is the question of conscience. The latest update from the House of Bishops is keen to emphasise that the next stage of the process will “respect the conscience” of those opposed to using the Prayers of Love and Faith. Good – I don’t think anyone in favour of greater progress towards LGBTQ+ equality wants people to be forced or coerced into using prayers against their conscience. But the question of conscience, throughout the LLF process, only ever seems to cut one way.

    There are thousands of clergy currently forced to act against their conscience, myself among them. We act against our conscience every time we explain that we can’t marry a same-sex couple who wish to celebrate their love and commitment in the presence of God. We act against our conscience when we constrain ourselves to the meagre offerings allowed by PLF, instead of celebrating and blessing the fullness of what we see God doing in the lives and loves of faithful LGBTQ+ people. The cost of overriding our conscience is a form of moral injury, and a very real harm not only to individuals but to the church as a whole. But our conscience is of no concern to the House of Bishops, it seems.

    Whatever the espoused theology of the church, when the operant theology evident in the actions (or inactions) of its leadership reveals that some voices are worth more than others, some consciences more worth protecting than others, it is hard to escape the conclusion that some people are worth more than others: more fully human, more fully made in God’s image, more beloved.

    That, of course, is not true. And nor is it the church’s espoused theology. But it is too often, including in the House of Bishops’ latest (in)action on LLF, the church’s operant theology. And that operant theology damages the body of Christ because, whatever kind or well-intentioned words may be said, what is felt and known and experienced as the lived reality is a deeply damaging theology of power, which tramples over the lives and loves and the very humanity of LGBTQ+ folks (yet again) in the futile search for a false unity which will allow those who already hold power to hold onto it, without needing to pay any attention at all.

     

  • A Heavy Yoke: Selina Stone on Power

    I wanted to review Selina Stone’s new book, published today, on Via Media News, because this is such an important and accessible reflection on themes which are currently being discussed widely in our churches, particularly as we continue to reel from awareness of sexual and other forms of abuse: the themes of power, leadership, trust and success. While her approach is a theological one, Stone rightly points out that theology is expressed in practice and can be shaped and distorted by our personality and prejudices. And that was where I found her book was especially valuable, because she challenges each of us to face our own power in order to understand just where it is held, and how it can be abused.

    Stone writes from the Pentecostal tradition, but everything she discusses applies equally to other denominations. Leaders’ use of the church for their own ends is only made possible by the cultures in which they function and the Christian theology they can call on; certain theologies encourage particular power dynamics which increase the chances of spiritual abuse. In a comment which reminded me of the objections some individuals make when required to do safeguarding training, she notes that “Christians … imagine that there is no need to be trained to understand sexual harassment, toxic behaviour and racist abuse, since these are ‘worldly concerns’; instead, apparently, we simply need more Bible studies” (5). And, for those of us who are at least able to recognise abuse outside the Church, she argues that we need to do far more to understand what happens inside. Using Matthew 5’s “You’ve heard it said… but I say”, she invites churches “to critically engage with the traditions they have inherited” (11).

    I particularly appreciated Stone’s dissection of the current tropes of “disagreeing well” (31) and “servant leadership” (26), the second of these identified as virtue signalling, since it can disguise the immense power such a leader may wield over others, feigning service while keeping all the power. Stone uses the example of Jean Vanier’s abuse of nuns and lay women, which also leads her to explore the danger of concepts of spiritual fatherhood and of marriage imagery when talking about spiritual union.

    The chapter on the potential of preaching in grooming a congregation to accept abusive behaviour takes as its text a sermon by Mike Pilavachi, where he used the story of Jacob and Laban to argue that God sometimes sends toxic and abusive people into our lives because… He loves us. As a Black lay woman, Stone also knows all about churches “where white married couples occupy the highest rungs of power”, noting that the concerns of the “little people” were only properly heard after Matt and Beth Redman spoke out about Pilavachi.

    Another case study is that of SPAC Nation, whose wealthy leaders told young people to give them more money, including from selling their own blood, because this would become the seed of the church and would enable them to become rich too. To encourage this behaviour, SPAC nation drew on scripture about sacrifice and obedience. Here, Stone shows how we are still too quick to assume that dominance and numerical growth are evidence of success; and focusing on God as “Almighty” can stop us seeing how God can also be breath, or possibility.

    A further section focuses on John Smyth’s abuse, which was supported by specific readings of the Cross and theologies of atonement focused on God’s wrath. Here, Stone draws on the resources of Black female and womanist theologians, and on their interpretations of the “power in the blood”. After showing the different ways in which oppressed groups have drawn on this theology, she concludes that “God does not delight in the shedding of our blood, any more than he did in the torture and murder of Jesus” (106).

    She also explores the meaning of unity, uncovering the ways in which the word can be used to push the less powerful to remain silent so that the dominant group is able to continue as before, with any expression of disagreement being silenced as a threat to unity. But the price for unity should not be paid by those “who are already forced to carry burdens too heavy for them” (86). She asks what it really means to love each other, as opposed to merely tolerating those with whom we disagree.

    This is a book which fully grasps the complexity of power. When writing on the power of vulnerability as an element of good leadership, Stone shows how controlling leaders can pretend to be vulnerable as a technique to make others reveal their own stories, and also shows how the term “vulnerable adult” can be used to suggest that the survivor is somehow the cause of the abuse. She is very aware of body theology, particularly when analysing Vanier’s views on touch, which dangerously ignored boundaries and power. She contrasts Vanier with Jesus, who knows his power and what it is for, and always waits for consent.

    What is most challenging of all is when Stone turns from the shocking cases which have become familiar to us in the last decade or so and makes us look at ourselves, at “the wolf who might be within us” (13). For this, the most important chapter is the final one, on discernment. Here I remembered what I found most powerful in recent safeguarding leadership training: the Social GGRRAAAACCEESSSS. Taken from a social science context, these emphasise that we are all disadvantaged in some contexts and privileged in others, based on who we are. The long list used in C of E safeguarding training covers: gender, geography, race, religion, ability, accent, age, appearance, class, culture, education, employment, ethnicity, sexuality, sexual orientation, spirituality, and “something else”.

    Stone looks at discernment in the sense of a community and an individual working out how best to use their gifts in ministry, but also considers its less obvious aspects, such as knowing when to speak and when to remain silent, and recognising the spiritual influences behind people’s actions. She argues that we can’t ever spot every abuser and we don’t even know what we ourselves may be capable of doing. This is not made easier when we are not taught how to discern. Even within a church community we need to recognise the sense of something being “off”, perhaps from taking seriously our own bodily reactions. A church is which is a healthy space will have a sense of community, of making space for others, of leadership which does not control but develops other people. It will understand the importance of accountability and cultivate a culture of reflection.

    This is a clear, confident theological and personal appeal for a better understanding of power; I hope it will find its way on to the recommended reading sections of all diocesan safeguarding training materials.

     

     

     

  • We Don’t Need More Theology: This is the Time for Action

    by Charlie Bell, Fellow in Public Theology and Medicine at Girton College, Cambridge, Associate Vicar of St John the Divine, Kennington, in the Diocese of Southwark, and member of the LLF Vocations and Ministry Working Group

    I will admit that talk of clergy discipline is not something that excites me terribly much. If we’re brutally honest, it’s not been something the Church of England has done a stellar job at in recent years – the ‘Clergy Discipline Measure’ often finding itself to be a tool of vexatious and politically motivated censure, or utterly toothless as a way to manage genuine clerical misdemeanours. We are told that the newly introduced ‘Clergy Conduct Measure’ is going to be much better, but the proof of the pudding – as ever – will be in the eating. Yet I think it is worth focusing in on discipline when it comes to clerical marriage because – it is clear – we have become so bogged down in endless debates about ‘the theology’ [sic] that we fail to see the wood for the trees.

    One of the thorniest issues which continues to perplex the House of Bishops is how to enable clergy to enter into marriages to people of the same sex or gender. Because it’s always good to speak the truth, let’s be honest here – it is the ‘how’ not the ‘whether’ that is now being debated, for a variety of extremely compelling reasons. There are clergy who can no longer minister because they’ve entered into a civil marriage – clearly absurd – and marriage to someone of the same sex or gender is now pretty much the only absolute impediment to ordained ministry, meaning that in the middle of a vocations crisis, we are turning to people whose vocations have often been affirmed through official church processes and saying ‘no, thanks’.

    It’s a total scandal – it’s cruel, it’s self-defeating, it flies in the face of the clear evidence that LGBTQIA clergy are often wonderful pastors, the vast majority of bishops agree that it is a pernicious and nasty witness, and most importantly, I think, it is utterly unnecessary. Yet for months (actually, for years) we have heard that boring, ridiculous, and inaccurate phrase, ‘we need to do more theology’ on this, whilst we keep slamming the door in the faces of queer people. Well, actually, we don’t need to.

    The call for theology has been an absolutely superb delaying tactic, of course, but it is ultimately irrelevant, because this is not really a question about doctrine at all – it is a question about discipline. It’s time we named that, and got on with it.

    I do appreciate that there are those who think that those of us pushing for a change in discipline are – in so doing – trying to subvert or change the doctrine, so let me be blunt about where many of us are coming from. I absolutely do believe that sacramental marriage should be opened to all couples. I absolutely do believe that God is already at work in queer marriages and that the church is doing itself a disservice in refusing to recognise this. I am absolutely committed to seeing the doctrine of marriage enlarged and – in being enlarged – enriched. All of that is no surprise.

    Yet I am also clear that this is not where we are at the moment in our decision-making processes (even if we are there in the minds and hearts of many churchgoers and clergy). Again, let’s be blunt. Canon B30 is in force. The Church of England’s current doctrine is that marriage is between a man and a woman (for life, by the way, but hey – let’s not be pedantic, right?). That is also the Church of England’s practice. In order to allow queer marriage in church, we would need to change Canon B30 (which, by the way, does not require a two-thirds majority in General Synod), and we would need to modify the liturgical provision (which does).

    All of this is not opinion, but objective fact. What is also objective fact is that clergy entering into something the church does not call marriage is not going to change any of that – it cannot. In other words, whilst clergy might enter into a covenant that the state calls marriage, the church does not and will not call it ‘the holy estate of marriage’ unless or until – God willing – it is open enough to hear what the Holy Spirit is calling it to do. Which means that there is no specific doctrinal change required to allow clergy to enter an institution which is not – in the eyes of the church – the holy estate of marriage.

    It is important to be absolutely clear about this, because much water has been muddied in this arena, often rather disingenuously. Now, of course, other churches (including other Anglican churches) might well recognise queer marriage as the bona fide ‘holy estate of marriage’, but we do not, yet, in the Church of England. So what is being talked about with clergy entering into this institution is ultimately a pastoral provision in its truest sense – a way of living effectively in the complex reality of the world in which we find ourselves as a church. It is also pastoral provision in a church that really does disagree on the goods present within queer relationships, and the way to order a holy life if we are LGBTQIA. It is, in other words, a way of enabling ministry in a complicated, messy, and unsatisfactory church. We have historically called the ‘complicated, messy, and unsatisfactory church’ the Church of England.

    Currently, clergy who enter a queer marriage cannot exercise new ministry; that means that they cannot be ordained or, if they are already ordained, that they cannot hold a new license – yet if they are currently licensed, they can continue under that license, which shows the absurdity of the situation. Why not? This derives from the so-called ‘Valentine’s Day Statement’ of 2014, where the House of Bishops hurriedly declared that being in a same-sex marriage was incompatible with ordained ministry. I understand that this was a response to an anxious Archbishop desperate to keep the ‘Communion’ happy at a meeting the following day, and leaning heavily on his fellow bishops – times were rather different then. Today, queer marriage rather than civil partnerships is the norm, and yet this nasty little Statement remains the be all and end all of the way we treat queer clergy hoping to gain some civil (not ecclesial) status for their relationship.

    Ministry Division claim (with questionable reasoning) that this Statement prevents people even entering the national discernment process, and bishops – rather timidly, I might add – point to it and mostly wring their hands when they are presented with a married queer ordinand or priest. Some bishops are courageous enough to find limited workarounds, but far too many – especially those on the ‘inclusive’ side – would rather privilege ‘collegiality’ amongst bishops over pastoral care for their queer clergy. It’s pretty scandalous, and eight years on from calls for ‘radical new Christian inclusion’ what we appear to have is ‘radically weak episcopal decision making’ paired with ‘radical obsession with “doing the theology”‘, when no such theology is necessary for a basic, practical decision.

    The thing that makes all this so frustrating is that this statement could simply be rescinded, or bishops could equally simply say that they are no longer abiding by it. If that happened, there is absolutely no impediment to queer married clergy being ordained or licensed. There is not a doctrinal case to answer, because this is not the holy estate of marriage. What, precisely, would change if clergy got married, except an end to the current pointless cruelty? What is the issue here? The only difference would be that clergy would be able to regularise their relationships in law (and please just educate yourself if you don’t know the legal differences and implications between civil partnerships and marriage). The church will not collapse. Queer clergy are already in relationships, and are already being ordained and licensed – I know, because I’m one of them. So what actually changes when we get married?

    I would urge us, then, to take a step back from this endless focus on ‘theology’. There is, of course, theology to be done – about living with doctrinal differences, about delegated episcopacy, about holiness of life and estate, about the meaning of ‘intimacy’ and ‘sex’ and ‘proper place’ and so on. But not one bit of this impacts upon whether clergy should face discipline for entering into an institution that the church does not recognise beyond being a legal entity. I have heard a number of times that seeing this as a disciplinary matter means that queer clergy will be upset the church has nothing good to say about their marriages. You know what? It’s baby steps. Perhaps let us keep our jobs, first?

    After years and years of LLF, and wasted time and lives, and persistent and pernicious cruelty meted out on queer people – particularly on those in ministry – it feels too easy. Yet it really is this easy – this is a matter of discipline, and the bishops have it in their power not only to resolve this, but to stop looking quite so silly at the same time. The current position is objectively ludicrous and cruel in equal measure. No more theology – it’s time for action, instead.

  • Surprise, Surprise: More Delay on Living in Love and Faith

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

    There is a meme video online, featuring Cilla Black, singing the chorus to her famous ‘Surprise Surprise’. It’s usually in the context of poor customer service, or something else inevitable happening, and out bursts Cilla singing Surprise, Surprise! I wish I wasn’t quite so childish, but when the delay to LLF was announced yesterday, this was the first thing that came to mind. Because if the House of Bishops is one thing, it is predictable – predictably hopeless at doing what General Synod requires of them, again and again, to do. Predictably hopeless at getting on with it.

    Of course, the story behind the delay is a little more complicated than the rather cold press release made out. That press release was a classic of its genre – not a single word there apologising to General Synod members, let alone LGBTQIA people, about the delay. No recognition of how painful this will be. No compassion whatsoever. And, as ever, no context. So perhaps let’s dig into that a bit.

    Firstly, it is abundantly clear that there are forces at play – a blob, if you like – that are determined to slow down and ultimately frustrate any change. This blob is not the central team working on LLF, who are doing their darndest to make stuff happen. The blob isn’t even the official Alliance, who are simply determined to block everything everywhere. The blob is instead silly little bit part players, sitting on papers, stirring the pot, facilitating and fomenting delay. But the House of Bishops is not defenceless and passive in all this – and it is time for them to steel their nerves and force a decision.

    The delaying tactics are now being firmly targeted in the direction of clergy same-sex/gender marriage – the last piece in the jigsaw, and hence the thing to ensure is held up as long as humanly possible. The current clever ruse is endless calls for ‘more theology’. Leaving aside the fact that there is rather a lot of theology already done on this (and bishops might like to remember that this conversation has been had, in many places, including in other Anglican provinces),  and the fact that this is really a matter of policy rather than theology, these calls for more theology are now plainly nothing more than a delaying tactic. I am sick to the back teeth of being in meetings where nice, warm-smiled bishops say, ‘if only we could make a decision, but we need the theology to be done’. Can-kicking of the very best kind.

    There is such a level of dishonesty in all this, and the worrying thing is that – like the emperor’s new clothes – members of the House of Bishops seem utterly unwilling to publicly name it, even though in private no such qualms exist. The goal posts are being endlessly shifted; decision making is being tripped up time after time; intransigence is the name of the game, and each time it feels like we might be getting close to a decision, up pops another ‘reason’ that a decision must be delayed. It’s grotesque. And it’s sheer politics.

    So the reason that a delay in the process has been called is purely and simply because the House is endlessly putting off a decision on same-sex marriage for clergy. The Prayers of Love and Faith are sorted – already commended, in fact, and the ‘request’ not to do them in a ‘standalone service’ is only that, a request (and, of course, a ‘standalone service’ is a made-up nonsense anyway). There is a plan around delegating episcopal ministry – in my view, entirely unnecessary, but it seems this is where the bishops are ending up. But the House knows that this ‘delegated episcopal ministry’ will not get through General Synod unless and until clergy are permitted to enter into same-sex marriages and people in such marriages enabled to enter the vocations process (actually permitted, not some ridiculous ‘in principle’ decision) and the despicable Issues in Human Sexuality is rescinded. It is positive that the House recognises this. The problem is that they need to get on with making a decision – and they seem endlessly unable to do so.

    The thing is, everyone knows that there has actually already been a decision made on this! This is another depressing feature of the LLF process – we are told the sky is green, and despite the evidence to the contrary, everyone seems to nod along. For months we’ve been told that the Pastoral Guidance for clergy entering into same-sex marriage hasn’t been drafted – which is a lie. I know it’s a lie, because I commented on said draft. We are told that it’s just ‘theologians being theologians, and theologians take time’, and this is why papers haven’t been written. It’s simply not true – the truth is that the House, and the attendant blob, keep moving the goal posts.

    Some of you will have received the news with what might best be described as cold, hard, fury. I will admit that this is precisely how I feel. Some of you, however, might meet the news with a shrug of the shoulders, because of course this has happened. I share some of that feeling too. Let’s be honest, it is rather hard to have much faith in the House of Bishops, if any. That is not new.

    What is new, however, is that with this latest delay, the House of Bishops are getting dangerously close to being genuinely faithless. There is only so long that people can hold on to some kind of hope at things getting better, and I fear we are now at breaking point. Synod has spoken, a number of times, and the House has dawdled and engaged in handwringing. Enough is enough.

    What we need now is delivery. We don’t need more prevaricating, we don’t need more meetings, we don’t need more warm smiles, we don’t need more obfuscation, we don’t need more kicking it down the road, we don’t need more anxiety over numbers bleeding into disrespect for the lives and loves of LGBTQIA Christians. We don’t, indeed, need more theology. We need you to get on with it, for the love of God, and for the love of God’s people.

    The House of Bishops first needs to recognise that the way they are engaging in this process is ultimately a question of basic morality, and their approach is immoral. They also need to formally make two decisions – the first being to actively stop any further demand for ‘more theology’ or whatever other delaying tactic is in play, and the second is to corporately rescind the nasty, theologically desperate 2014 statement banning clergy from entering same-sex marriage (which, let’s remember, only a minority even agrees with, and which has essentially zero force beyond ‘good boy’ politics and could be ignored right now if a single diocesan bishop had the nerve), and make the positive statement that same-sex married clergy are a good and holy group of people, able to pastor beautifully and brokenly just like any others, and free them into this ministry. And this needs to be done this year. We all know the most recent piece of ‘theological work’ is nearing completion and a decision can then be made. The bishops need to make a commitment to it and do it.

    It is perfectly possible for there to be a November Synod. It is perfectly possible for them to do this. It would have been perfectly possible, indeed, for them to do this by July – but they baulked.

    Enough of this, now. It is no small wonder that people have lost trust in the bishops and don’t believe a word they say. You can hardly complain people don’t trust you if you endlessly break their trust.

    So, the only path forward is clear. Bishops, commit to a decision on clergy marriage on a specific date the moment the current iteration of ‘theological work’ is done, which we know is soon, and keep to that commitment, come what may. Call a November Synod, and implement that decision then. Put the package to a vote this year. Don’t feed us ‘in principle’ gruel on marriage – the moment this formal decision is made, licences should be restored, ordinands should enter training, and the House should corporately apologise for taking so long to get this done. Legally watertight measures can follow, if necessary, but practical action must be immediate.

    We, LGBTQIA clergy, have played by the rules for quite long enough now. Not a single thing of any substance has been done about the clearly non-canonical behaviours illustrated in the summer. Yet, after years and years of promises, still, capable, holy, decent LGBTQIA people are being barred from ministry and having their licenses smacked away from them because of prevarication and anxiety-laden avoidance. It is dangerously close to feeling more than a little malevolent.

    It’s decision time, folks. Bishops, respectfully, get on with it, now. You really can – but you need to choose to do so. If you don’t, you will turn crisis into catastrophe. And you will only have yourselves to blame.

  • Church of Scotland Welcomes Trans Members and Ministers

    by the Rev Canon Professor Paul Middleton, Professor of New Testament and Early Christianity at the University of Chester; a Minister of the Church of Scotland, he is also a member of its Theological Forum, and Canon Ecumenical at Chester Cathedral

    The annual meeting of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland took place at the end of May in Edinburgh. Though not established in the same way as the Church of England, the Church of Scotland is recognised in law as the National Church. The Monarch, who it is said ‘becomes Presbyterian when they cross the border’ is represented at the General Assembly through the Lord High Commissioner (this year, the Duke of Edinburgh), and in the Gracious Letter, reaffirms the Accession Oath ‘to uphold Presbyterian Church Government in Scotland.’

    This year’s Assembly, which was somewhat overshadowed by the announcement of the General Election, for the first time considered the question whether or not there was any bar on Trans people and those with diverse gender identities holding office in the Church. As was noted in the recent Cass report, discourse around Trans people in society has become toxic. While Hilary Cass was writing about the situation in England, this is arguably more so the case in Scotland with the recent controversy around the Westminster Government blocking the Scottish Parliament’s Gender Identity Bill, which was passed overwhelmingly with support from members of all parties.

    The Church’s Theological Forum was given the remit of reporting to this year’s Assembly. While the Church of Scotland spent the best part of a decade debating same-sex marriage and lesbian and gay ministers in the church, there have been relatively few statements on the place of Trans people. In 2016 it produced the booklet Diverse Gender Identities which promotes awareness and inclusive pastoral care, and the 2022 Assembly supported the Scottish Government’s proposed criminalisation of conversion practices, rejecting a proposal to specifically exclude Trans experience from that ban. Therefore, although the Church has not said very much in the past, the Theological Forum were building on a generally positive and welcoming position.

    In compiling their report, the Theological Forum, which includes a spectrum of theological opinion, spoke with a number of Christians who are transgender and others who hold diverse gender identities, including someone who had de-transitioned. The Forum concluded that since the Church of Scotland takes no consideration of sex or gender for church membership or holding the offices of Elder or Minister, there is no bar on Trans people being Ministers.

    The report the Theological Forum presented to General Assembly is relatively brief. A decision was made to make no comment on the current debates in Scottish (and now British) political discourse, although it calls attention to the fact that rhetoric in these political debates directly impacts real people. The report is divided into three sections: Engagement with Scripture; Engagement with Lived Experience; and Theological Questions. Each section is brief, and is a truncated presentation of far wider discussions. The first section acknowledges that some Christians find a clear sex binary in the creation accounts, while others would see these accounts, along with hard-wired gender roles in the text, as descriptive (how the world looked to the ancients) rather than prescriptive. Moreover, in the same way as few would argue the Creation accounts override advances in natural sciences, there is no reason to suppose they should take priority over advances in human and biological sciences, such as psychology and physiology. There is some reflection on the biblical account of eunuchs, although the report is ambivalent about the helpfulness of mapping these characters on to contemporary Trans experiences.

    The second section, which recounts the Forum’s meetings with people of diverse gender identities, makes the important point that there is no single ‘Trans experience’. On the basis of the stories described, the Forum concludes that ‘the duty of love requires the Church to follow a course that will avoid causing distress, and that will promote wellbeing and demonstrate compassion’. The final section raises some theological questions around whether transitioning or not may best express people’s calling to be the person they were created to be, observing that ‘many Christians see diversity of gender identity as a gift from God and a blessing.’

    The Theological Forum would acknowledge the report is far from exhaustive. There was a clear decision to focus mainly on the principal question it was asked to investigate; whether or not Trans people could be ministers. Much of the debate on the floor of Assembly noted that there is far more that could be said, such as the importance of changing name in biblical tradition, gender diversity in creation exemplified through the animals, and the figure of the eunuch. The Forum’s report urged that all sides exercised charity and grace, and the discussion was largely carried out in that spirit. The report concluded with an important and unambiguous statement of welcome: ‘Transgender people are part of the Church of Scotland and they are welcome.’ General Assembly unanimously accepted the report.

  • Consent, Power, and BDSM in Theological Research

    by Dr Karen O’Donnell, Director of Studies at Westcott House Cambridge where she teaches Worship and Liturgy. She also teaches Gender and Christian Theology for the Divinity Faculty, University of Cambridge. She has published widely in trauma and feminist theologies.

    As a feminist theologian, the two contexts in which I find myself thinking about consent are in discussions about sex and in conversations about the ethics of research. As a theologian interested in trauma, discussions around sexual consent are often wrapped up with distressing accounts of rape and sexual abuse where consent was not sought, not given, or not meant if it was given. In the context of theological research, however, discussions around consent are often quite perfunctory. Students often consider the ethical questions around consent to be a hoop to jump through, to get their projects approved by the ethics committee. It’s fascinating that these two discussions of consent are so different; in one, consent is paramount and there is much discussion around the insufficiency of consent as a category for good, ethical sex. In the other, consent is the signature on a piece of paper allowing the researcher to begin.

    What might it mean to bring the concerns around the in/sufficiency of consent for good, ethical sex, into dialogue with theological empirical research?

    Theology has been tangled up with desire, sex, and penetration for centuries. In the work of the late Marcella Althaus-Reid we find the explicit recognition that ‘theology is a sexual act’.  She writes:

    Theology is a sexual ideology performed in a sacralising pattern: it is the sexual divinised orthodoxy (right sexual dogma) and orthopraxy (right sexual behaviour); theology is a sexual action. Theologians, therefore, are nothing else but sexual performers… [1]

    When it comes to empirical theological research, too, theology is a sexual act; specifically, it is an act of BDSM.[2] Here, I specifically want to draw a parallel to a BDSM scene between a dominant and a submissive. This might seem an unlikely parallel to draw but I think it is an important one. Christianity has an entwined relationship with power, both positively and negatively. In a postmodern age, where we are more attentive to power dynamics, abuses of power, and the ways in which the church has been complicit with such abuses, we must reflect carefully on our relationship with power. Whilst reflecting on this through the lens of BDSM might be uncomfortable, it creates a dissonance that offers a helpful interruption and opportunity to reconsider what we take for granted in terms of power. It’s also a great opportunity to learn from a community that has wrestled carefully with both issues of consent and power dynamics. Some researchers have even suggested that there is a spiritual dimension at play in BDSM itself!

    So, imagine the theological research interview as a BDSM scene: theology is the dominant discourse, making the theologian the ‘dominant’. The dominant/theologian sets the parameters of the scene/interview. They have a significant amount of power within the scene (and likely away from it too). The submissive/research participant has to trust that the dominant/theologian will do what they have said they will do and will not stray from the previously proscribed limits. The dominant/theologian engages in the scene to get their (research) needs met.

    Central to many experiences of BDSM is the concept of power or, more precisely, an unequable distribution of power between those engaged in the act. But this power is fluid, dynamic and difficult to pinpoint. Of course, the person in the dominant role holds plenty of power. However, this is not the only place where power lies. The submissive often has plenty of power too.[3] One submissive notes: ‘I’m the one who decides what will happen… how it will happen… how far it will go. I call him master but it’s my needs that are being met.’[4]

    In the BDSM community, the ethical model of consensual BDSM participation has long been a topic of discussion. Among BDSM practitioners and advocates, consent is of primary, nearly summary, ethical import.[5] Within the BDSM community, the giving of consent is largely understood not as a onetime thing but as something negotiated before an activity takes place and also as an ongoing, relational dialogue. The use of safewords to slow down or to completely end a scene represents this ongoing relational dialogue of consent. Consent is seen as an ongoing conversation respecting all parties and drawing on the wisdom of all those involved.

    What does this mean for seeing the empirical theological research act as a manifestation of a BDSM scene? Imagine a theological research interview in which the researcher and participant negotiated what the scene would look like beforehand; where the limits of the research interview were agreed and a safeword put in place to guard those limits.

    Imagine a theological research interview which recognises the power of the submissive/research participant, as the one holding the answers the dominant/theologian wants. How would the power of the submissive/research participant shape, allow and restrict the direction of the research interview?

    Imagine a theological research interview where the primary concern of the dominant/theologian was not the meeting of her research needs but the pleasure and satisfaction of the submissive/research participant. What would it mean to put the pleasure and satisfaction of the research participant first, even before the gathering of research data? What might it mean to ensure that there even was pleasure for the submissive/research participant in the course of theological empirical research?

    A crucial part of the dominant role is providing aftercare to the submissive, recognising the intense sensations and emotions the submissive has experienced. What would such aftercare look like in the context of a theological empirical research scene that has potentially stripped the submissive/research participant bare and exposed them intimately to the dominant/theologian? Imagine building aftercare into such a research scene.

    This praxis of consent requires hard work on the part of the dominant/theologian to develop their attunement and empathy to the verbal and non-verbal cues of the submissive/research participant. This praxis of consent requires a shift into the language and attitude of invitation and hospitality in which the needs and pleasure of the other are primary, driving forces such that, in the aftermath, gratitude might flow in both directions. We might consider this mode of conversation as a potential gift to some of the challenging conversations currently taking place within the church. What might it mean to put the needs and pleasure of the other first in conversations around same-sex relationships for example? Or to aim for dialogue in which power dynamics were disrupted so thoroughly that gratitude—and indeed pleasure—might flow in both directions? Years ago, Rowan Williams made the point that the opposite of intolerance was not tolerance but rather hospitality. This is paramount in theological research design, but it is also essential in the lives of Christians in the church.

    Notes
    [1] Marcella Althaus-Reid, Indecent Theology: Theological Perversions in Sex, Gender and Politics (Abingdon and New York: Routledge, 2000), 87.
    [2] BDSM is an acronym for bondage, domination, sado-masochism and refers to a sub-culture in which BDSM is the dominant (pardon the pun) driving force. Whilst often associated with sexual activity, it can be non-sexual in nature. Whilst some people live out BDSM as a lifestyle, often other people participate in BDSM activities for short period of time – these are called ‘scenes’. Scenes will be carefully negotiated and consented to, with clear safe words that can be said to pause, slow down, or stop activities completely. The BDSM community has worked hard to establish clear boundaries and guidelines around its activities. This work has not been helped by the publication of BDSM-inspired popular fiction such as 50 Shades of Grey which disregard much of the careful work around consent that the BDSM community has undertaken. I wouldn’t normally reference a Wikipedia page but this one is excellent!
    [3] Gary W. Taylor and Jane M. Ussher, “Making Sense of S&M: A Discourse Analytic Account,” Sexualities 4, no. 3 (2001): 299.
    [4] Taylor and Ussher, 299.
    [5] Joseph J. Fischel, Screw Consent: A Better Politics of Sexual Justice (Oakland, California: University of California Press, 2019), 37.