ViaMedia

Tag: United Reformed Church

  • Rounding up Sheep or Assembling Cats? Governance in the United Reformed Church and the Church of England

    by Revd Chantal Noppen, elected member of General Synod and National Coordinator, Inclusive Church

    This summer, I had the privilege of attending the General Assembly of the United Reformed Church (URC) as an ecumenical representative. Coming directly from the Church of England’s General Synod, I couldn’t help but draw comparisons between the two experiences. This reflection offers a personal perspective on these two governance structures, focusing on their inclusivity, decision-making processes, and overall atmosphere. I have had a URC friend read it and their response has added some more comments, included in italics. I’d also like to make it clear that I love being on General Synod and value it immensely; these observations should not detract from that.

    Preparation and Initial Impressions

    Although I had limited prior knowledge of the URC, my background at the Cambridge Theological Federation introduced me to aspects of their worship and governance. I knew the URC had been more progressive in ordaining women, promoting lay leadership, and affirming LGBTQIA+ individuals, but I was curious about how their General Assembly would compare to the Church of England’s General Synod.

    Integration and Inclusivity

    If I were to sum up the URC’s General Assembly in one word, it would be ‘integration’. The URC makes a concerted effort to include diverse voices in their decision-making processes. This integration is evident in everything the assembly does, from the language used in worship to the application of technology and resources. The assembly had a noticeably more racially diverse, age-broad, and disability-aware approach than what I have observed elsewhere. Although there were no visible BSL interpreters, the effort to ensure inclusivity and accessibility was apparent. I have since learned that BSL signers have been provided in the past, but as feedback confirmed no-one was using them, it wasn’t economically sensible to continue. I am confident however that this expense would be willingly covered if the need arose.

    Unlike the Church of England, where youth engagement often feels more like a goal than a reality, the URC directly integrates young people into their assemblies. In the Church of England, we often talk about wanting to ‘hear the voice of young people’ and offer various schemes and projects focused on engaging them, but I’ve yet to be convinced that we are truly committed to this, as it would require a significant shift in the status quo and power dynamics. At the URC assembly, young people are fully present and just as involved and listened to as anyone else. They speak for themselves and are heard as confident, competent members of the assembly.

    More than any other aspect, this stayed with me as a valuable lesson for us in the Church of England, where changing the status quo often meets resistance. I hope the URC recognises the incredible resource they have in these young people and continues to invest in them generously.

    Decision-Making Processes

    One of the most striking differences between the two bodies is the decision-making process. At the URC Assembly, moderators invite members to use coloured cards to quickly gauge opinions on a topic. If there isn’t clear support, the topic is simply dropped. This method contrasts sharply with the Church of England’s lengthy debates over minor wording changes, which can often feel like filibustering. Additionally, the URC’s use of real-time updates on motion wording helps maintain clarity during discussions and is incredibly helpful from an accessibility point of view.

    It was fascinating to see and hear disagreements and alternative views being shared, considered, and decided upon in real time. The speed with which business and policy are addressed seemed far ahead of the CofE. However, the decisions themselves somehow felt a bit less weighty – perhaps because of the more informal feel.

    It would be naive to assume that the URC membership is homogeneous in its opinions; this is certainly not the case. However, there appears to be a strong sense of loyalty to the whole, especially when contrasted with the divisive rhetoric currently present in the Church of England. I later learned that when the topic of same-sex marriage, particularly regarding ministers, was raised, discussions reached an impasse – having already been rather vicious and damaging. Three opposing and distinct, yet valid, views were upheld. Rather than allowing this stalemate to cause further hurt, the URC imposed a seven-year moratorium on formal debates about the topic. This pause created space for personal conversations built on relationships, and when the topic was eventually revisited, it was able to be passed without adding further major trauma. As I understand it, the discussion in the 1990s was incredibly fraught and messy. It is also worth noting that the eventual conclusion of General Assembly was it should be a locally made decision, not one decided centrally. This is remarkably similar to what the CofE is trying to move towards around the introduction of PLF, that is being pushed back against as ‘too much’ from conservative wings.

    Reflecting on this, I can’t help but think of the Church of England’s experience with the Living in Love and Faith (LLF) resources, which were intended to foster open, respectful dialogue. Despite this opportunity, it feels as though we have fallen short. It’s not a simple matter, but one wonders how different things might be if the whole of the Church of England had actively engaged with these resources, focusing on listening and learning rather than defensiveness and division. Where might we be now if that had been the case?

    Leadership and Hierarchy

    Another notable difference is the URC’s approach to leadership roles. Unlike the Church of England, where positions such as bishops and archdeacons are permanent promotions, the URC appoints leaders for a fixed term before they return to regular ministry. This practice seems to reduce the emphasis on personal ambition and status, fostering a model of ministry more focused on service than career advancement.

    I learned that both the URC and the Methodist Church have broad memberships that include individuals with more evangelical or conservative views as well as those with more liberal perspectives. However, the influence of these groups differs from that in the Church of England. It often seems that substantially more resources and support are directed toward the conservative end of the spectrum in the CofE than in the middle. While I have no hard data to hand, it’s a widely acknowledged observation within the church community.

    Key Differences and Similarities

    Both the URC and the Church of England face similar challenges, such as resource allocation and ministerial support. However, the URC’s more collaborative and less hierarchical structure allows for a more unified approach to these issues. However, there was the same complaint about regional variances and unilateral diocesan policies leading to inconsistencies and a lack of equity.

    There is no electronic voting system at Assembly, so there is no way to track who has voted which way on specific items. I can see pros and cons to this, but it matches the overall emphasis on unity and shared investment in the URC. The Church of England is far more individually led and used to spotlighting specific voices and leaders. This is even demonstrated by the close-up camera shots of speakers with their names and numbers on the screen, as opposed to the topic being discussed. Apparently when electronic voting was tried it was a disaster. All critical votes that may be contentious are conducted by secret ballot, there were just none on this year’s agenda.

    The URC is substantially smaller and younger than the Church of England, which is reflected in a number of ways. I found the general atmosphere of pragmatic evolution to be quite inspirational, demonstrated in various initiatives, including the development of the iChurch resource to assist local churches with website development and database management—tasks that many churches struggle to manage internally.

    Personal Reflections

    My experience at the URC General Assembly was eye-opening. While I appreciate the Church of England’s structured approach and accountability mechanisms, I believe we could benefit from adopting some of the URC’s practices, especially those that foster unity and reduce unnecessary debate. However, the practice of offering the opportunity to ask clarifying questions of a motion and its report before it is debated was a simple but incredibly useful nuance. As our understanding and appreciation of neuro-divergent thinking grow, this approach would provide some much-needed clarity to discussions that I think all would benefit from.

    I found myself repeatedly impressed by the diversity of voices heard at General Assembly and the genuine lack of one or two people speaking at every possible opportunity. Speakers are not called by the chair; they simply head toward the mic when they wish to contribute. When a chair does offer gentle intervention, it seemed to be met with respect and acceptance, which is not always true of General Synod.

    However, during one discussion, an older gentleman made a rude, dismissive, and judgmental comment about the ordering of households and relationship statuses. I was saddened to hear it and surprised that it wasn’t challenged on the floor or from the podium. While I’ve heard worse or similar at Synod, I had come to expect better from my reformed peers, so that was rather disappointing. I know that I was not alone in this surprise and shock, and have been encouraged to hear specific pastoral support and follow-up was provided.

    Throughout General Assembly, times of worship and Bible study were woven more integrally than the bookend approach favoured at Synod. However, I think some of this is due to logistical differences and different expectations of worship. The theme of innovation that ran through the worship was especially interesting to consider from the perspective of a creatively minded Anglican who often operates ‘out of the box’, intentionally or otherwise. This often feels like an uncomfortable place to be and is a stark contrast to the reformed mindset that has evolution in its DNA and change written into its foundation.

    The final Bible study, led by Lisa Adejai from Christian Aid, captured much of what I had been reflecting on while also shifting my focus to the “now, next, and so then.” Her core message was an invitation to reimagine, reorder, and renew—a timely encouragement for someone like me, emerging from a challenging period of ministry.

    Lisa spoke passionately about the reordering of power that Jesus calls us to, urging us to broaden our horizons and reach out to the marginalized, challenging assumptions, and refusing to accept the status quo. She referenced a Ghanaian phrase meaning “go back and get it,” highlighting the importance of understanding our past to move forward effectively. As I consider the church’s ongoing discussions around racism, misogyny, homophobia, gender discrimination, and more, I’m struck by our struggle to truly acknowledge our mistakes and commit to doing better. Jesus’ commandment to love God, our neighbour, and ourselves remains central—if we truly lived by this love, our decisions and actions would bear more meaningful fruit.

    Lisa concluded by asking, “What is God calling you to reorder? What power are you being called to give away, share, or amplify in others? Where are you being called to reimagine?” These are questions worth sitting with in every church meeting, as we remain open to God’s guidance and transformation.

    Conclusion

    In case this all feels a bit ‘rose-tinted’, during more direct conversations, I heard some firsthand experiences of how the URC had fallen far short of their intentions and stated priorities around gender justice and pay/benefits provision. While both institutions can seek to silence dissenting voices, which often happen to be those of women, addressing this will perhaps happen more quickly in the smaller organisation. Attending Assembly also helped bring into focus the additional privilege and pressure we have as the state church. Do we consider this as well as we could, or do we prefer to use it as a prop and shield rather than an opportunity to catalyse society?

    I came away from General Assembly simultaneously in awe of certain aspects, like the integration of young people, the principle of taking a consensus and simply not discussing items that didn’t gather enough support, but also feeling a deep sense of relief that the system I “belong” to is a bit more clearly structured. I’m grateful for the transparency of our voting system and the possibility for there to be accountability and questions put to members over their voting decisions. I am heartened that, despite different approaches, both systems allow for a range of views to be presented but that no single person, or incredibly loud minority, can dictate, block or derail votes.

    I greatly valued the opportunity to gain insight into how another denomination is navigating contemporary issues. I think there is much we could learn from each other and I look forward to working more closely with reformed colleagues in the future.

  • Young Christianity Today

    by Sorrel Christian, a student and a multiply-disabled queer Christian. They enjoy writing and are particularly interested in crip theology and ecumenism

    My name is Sorrel Christian, I am a student in my early 20s, and I am a queer disabled Christian. I became a member of the United Reformed Church a few years ago. However, due to the only URC in my area not having approved same-sex marriage, it having been allowed on a church-by-church basis since 2016) when I’m not at university I’m currently worshipping with a local independent church community. I also attended a Roman Catholic sixth form college, and have had both helpful and harmful experiences in the Church of England in my ongoing journey to a committed faith.

    It will come as no surprise that the established church as a whole tends to have a poor reputation amongst my peers. Years of anti-LGBTQ+ and anti-disabled rhetoric and action from powerful churches has led to a deep mistrust and fear within these overlapping communities in all age ranges, particularly when it comes to the Roman Catholic Church and the Church of England. And it often seems like the powers that be do little to help themselves. Sex education and compulsory RE in Catholic sixth form was entirely heteronormative, with no mention of any other type of potential sexual encounter, gender non-conformity, or even an acknowledgement that the many LGBTQ+ youth at the college existed. One of the most powerful and well-known Church of England churches in my university town does not accept same-sex marriage or women in ministry. Such experiences give a strong impression, even amongst young people who are not part of the LGBTQ+ community, that organised religion is backwards looking, limited, and not in sync with anything they care about.

    Having said all that, I have found my non-Christian peers to be largely respectful of my personal faith, if somewhat baffled on occasion. Many would also describe themselves as spiritual in some form, and mutual respect and understanding goes a long way. Despite this, I find myself “caveating” my faith when meeting new people. “I’m a Christian but…”. As I’ve started expressing myself using queer fashion and rethinking the binary concepts of gendered clothing, it’s becoming less and less necessary – yet at the same time, the Church of England is in the news for still not having approved same-sex marriage. I pray for a world where I don’t have to consider “how queer” I look to my peer group before deciding if I need to justify and explain that my faith is not one of exclusion and hatred. Maybe it’s partly egotistical. I don’t want people to think, even for a moment, that I’m exclusionary. Maybe my sense of self-worth is too much based in how people may judge me. I feel the need to caveat my faith, even as I am aware of how God knows me. A more charitable view of this need to caveat would be that I do it to protect others. Whenever I try online dating, I state my religion on my profile. Whilst it’s true that this is partly for simple reasons of compatibility, there’s more to it than that. Being non-binary, if the apps do their job, my dating pool is entirely made up of LGBTQ+ young people. I haven’t met a single person of faith in the LGBTQ+ community who does not also hold religious trauma. Many more have left the church and their faith due to spiritual abuse and hostile churches. Still others have never held deep convictions, but associate church schools with a place they were never safe to be themselves. For the sake of both parties, I choose for the cross around my neck to not come as a surprise on the first date.

    Speaking of surprises, my first experience of an exclusionary church when I moved to university came as a complete shock. My experience of the Church of England up until then consisted of occasional services at the parish church in my small hometown. It was a fairly standard semi-rural set up, family-friendly, with a primary school attached, and also happened to be a part of the Inclusive Church network. With a family tradition of non-conformist churches, I naively assumed that all Church of England churches were much of a muchness when it came to societal viewpoints, if I considered it at all. I wasn’t even out to myself at that point. I was mostly just desperate for somewhere to belong. I started attending a popular church in my university city without even thinking to google it or find out it was a conservative evangelical branch of the CofE. I knew that the “party line” at the CofE didn’t include same-sex marriage, but I had no idea of the strength of anti-gay and anti-woman sentiment that could be found in some churches; something which SCM’s Honest Church campaign is trying to make visible. The wake-up moment was an anti-abortion rant from the pulpit. I kept going until the end of term though, because I didn’t know how to leave. Eventually, in the holidays, a family friend from the parish church explained the wide spectrum of belief in the Church of England, and how I needed to use critical thinking to find a church which aligned with my values of how to treat others.

    What confused me at the time, and frankly still baffles me today, was the popularity amongst students of a church which doesn’t accept female ministry and whose rector has openly written that same-sex relationships are sinful. All the students I met outside the church seemed to be in favour of the rights of women and LGBTQ+ people, and yet, this narrow-minded preaching attracted enough devotees for an entire separate student congregation. My theory is that is that it’s a question of resources and priorities, and a question of connections, of insidious roots throughout the university structure. Right from freshers’ week, the church works with a large Christian Union to attract new students through the tried and tested formula of free food. The promotional materials promise that everyone’s welcome, no strings attached. The leadership structure is carefully designed to disguise their views on women preachers at first glance. Once in, the usual mechanisms of organised religion slide greasily into action to keep you there. Guilt, shame, fear. A cult of personality around the rector. Upbeat music and a free student lunch. If you leave now, you’re going to Hell. By the time you discover the anti-gay rhetoric, you’re supposed to have bought in to believing everything the rector says as gospel truth. This dangerous machine is funded and legitimised by the powerful institution that is the Church of England.

    And yet, there is hope. The following term, just down the road, I found a wonderfully inclusive URC church. We’re smaller, less well funded, and much less powerful than those that can afford an entirely separate service for the student congregation. But by working with the other local non-conformist churches, we’re making changes in the city. I believe ecumenism is key in youth Christianity. I don’t understand the strict divides between denominations, the ‘us’ versus ‘them’. At the Student Christian Movement National Gathering this year, there were Quakers, Catholics, Anglicans, Methodists, Lutherans and more, all coming together to share ideas and theology and inclusive Christian love. Of course, there were differences in theology. But not rigid divisions. No one young person seemed convinced that they were more in the right than anyone else. That’s the spirit we need to take forward into the future.