ViaMedia

Tag: vocation

  • Faith and Generosity in the Church: The Via Media, or Transphobia?

    by Revd Nathanael Hayler, Deacon, serving as Assistant Curate in rural Northumberland 

    Why do you remain faithful to a volatile institution?

    How do you show generosity to a hostile Church?

    These remain some of the pressing questions I am often asked when I share my story of journeying towards ordination in the Church of England as a transgender person. They are questions I grapple with in these early years of ordained ministry and will continue to ask as my sense of vocation grows and flourishes.

    As part of my ordination training, I was able to embark on a course of postgraduate study. I developed a project exploring how the Church of England has engaged with the experiences of trans people, both in the context of the local church and more broadly as an institution. Entitled ‘Thresholds of Faith and Identity: A critical analysis of the Church of England on transgender identities’, the piece aimed to prayerfully and creatively theologically reflect on where the Church is now, how it has reached that place and, importantly, what comes next – ‘towards a distinctively Anglican transgender theology.’

    The study and dialogue addresses topics of liturgy and worship, leadership and representation, and pastoral practice. Using theological language and reflective dialogue might feel dense and complex, but I intentionally grounded all my work in practice, always looking to ministry on the ground and to the experience of transgender Christians. Sometimes work on trans identities can be seen as “woke” or niche but the reality is that most of us, whether we know it or not, will encounter or walk alongside a trans person. This conversation is pressing, it is poignant, it is necessary. My research took place in the context of discussions encouraged by the Living in Love and Faith (LLF) conversations. There is a danger that this valuable LLF work will lose momentum and fizzle out; this conversation must continue in creative, engaging, and accessible ways.

    Understanding the need to remain faithful to Anglican convention felt important if this work was to go anywhere. Pushing towards action whilst working within the categories of scripture, reason and tradition offers an effective yet comfortable way the Church of England might begin to develop a coherent theology rooted in the lived experience of transgender individuals. However, there are immediate barriers that currently prevent such progress being made. Firstly, the ambiguity and contradictions that characterise the Church of England’s current position. For example, it is hard to take seriously sentiments that trans and non-binary people are welcome to explore a vocation to ordained ministry when another document prohibits the ministry of transgender people, believing we are not wholesome examples or stable enough to serve as deacons, priests, and bishops (Some Issues in Human Sexuality, 2013).

    Secondly, the Via Media that characterises the Anglican way is often sorely, even dangerously, misunderstood. Despite via media being seen as a virtuous existence for the Church, it is often misused; today it has fostered a culture of ambivalence and mere tolerance. The Church of England is still “sitting on the fence” in offering two very different views that can be ‘properly held’ by Anglicans on the topic of transgender identities. This gross misuse of the ‘middle way’ condones and even encourages transphobic attitudes and discriminatory behaviours toward trans people. The lack of clear guidelines, of both doctrinal belief and pastoral conduct, allows individuals holding authority to freely discriminate or be complicit in keeping silent in the face of such behaviour.  With gender identity legally (in the UK) understood as a protected characteristic and in seeking to treat trans people with dignity and respect, this current manifestation of transphobia disguised as holding the generous via media must be eradicated immediately.

    Instead of loathing the rich diversity that trans and non-binary people bring to our churches, we have an opportunity to celebrate it. And in this celebration we are invited to reimagine what it means to hold the middle way and re-embrace the Anglican tradition of via media in our time; building on the foundations of what has been handed on and always rooting our practice in the life of Christ. Therefore, instead of threatening our sense of self and our convictions, these differences encountered within the breadth of Anglicanism should move us toward a living embodiment of the ‘Way’. That is, Christ: the Way, the Truth and the Life (John 14:6). Christ’s ministry reveals a most beautiful interplay between charity and justice. Rather than seeing the via media as only a charitable gesture, seeking to please both those at the extremities and those at the margins, the via media could be a middle way that seeks to walk the path of both charity and justice – just as Christ himself inspires us to do. If we truly embrace our part in being a living tradition, by faith, we make space for the transformative work of the Holy Spirit, trusting that God will make a way in us and through us.

    As a transgender person, I don’t believe the Church currently recognises the sacredness of trans narratives as part of the living Christian story. I hope, one day, that hearing the experiences of transgender individuals will be understood as a transformative gift. As an ordained person, which very often feels like a scary and vulnerable public ministry, I want to encourage the Church not to neglect this important topic, because of we do that then we neglect our duty of care for the many lives touched by this. There is much work for the Church of England to do if it genuinely desires to welcome and encourage ‘the unconditional affirmation of trans people, within the body of Christ’ and rejoice in that diversity.

    So, I return to those first questions.

    Why do you remain faithful to a volatile institution?

    How do you show generosity to a hostile Church?

    Why? Because I believe in the transforming work of God in the Church of England, and I want to be part of that work. How? By the grace of God alone. Let’s not forget to pray. Pray for the work of the Spirit in the Church, so that one day God’s love will be shared freely and lavishly amongst all people.

    I’m currently exploring options for publishing my research, in the hope that it will be built upon and used to further conversation and provoke change.

  • Gatecrashing God’s Party: Parish Ministry Today

    by Jo Stobart, a parish priest in South Somerset. Along with fellow parish priest Claire Lording, she is standing as a ‘pair’ for election to the Crown Nominations Commission

     

    I was recently asked, ‘What has changed about your calling since you embarked on exploring a vocation to ordained ministry?’ It’s a question I found myself reflecting on again as I sat in Taunton Minster last weekend, watching our benefice’s curate being ordained priest. It’s almost five years since I made those vows myself. Although in ministerial terms that’s a blink of an eye, now seems a significant moment to pause and ponder the answer I gave to my original questioner.

    My first response was that I could never have predicted just how much I would love this role. If Buechner’s oft-quoted ‘The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet’ is true, then I am blessed to find myself at that sweet spot of intersection. I serve as Vicar in places that, alongside Fr Alex Frost’s parish, do a pretty good job of representing the breadth of the Church of England. Ilminster is a small market town in South Somerset and Whitelackington an outlying village.

    The Minster sits right at the heart of the town and generations of families are connected to the building by baptisms, weddings and funerals. The church still has a recognised place in the life of the town. Most of the children attend the Church of England First School and civic events regularly find expression through a church service. I’m often greeted in the main street with ‘Morning Vicar’. Parish ministry here looks remarkably ‘traditional’.

    But traditions change too. On the list of vicars in our Lady Chapel, dating back to the Norman Conquest, I’m the first woman incumbent. I’m still asked tentative questions about how I should be addressed (‘Jo? But Vicar’s fine too.’). People here would instinctively tick a ‘Church of England’ box on a form, but this connection now usually relies on the regular attendance of a parent or, more often, a grandparent. The story of Christianity is one that’s remembered as an echo through the generations.

    What this means is that doing the work of a parish priest doesn’t need to be ground-breaking to be innovative or ‘fresh’. Each day brings the opportunity to share our faith, potentially for the first time with that person, and Mary Lennox-like to open together the overgrown door of The Secret Garden. As well as sharing faith in traditional ways, as so many parishes up and down the country are doing so faithfully, we are blessed to have pioneers working on the margins. There are voices calling us to work alongside those of good will in the community on green issues, or the refugee crisis. Our churches, alongside other Christian communities here, run the town’s food bank.

    And at the heart of it all there’s the worship we offer to God. Sunday by Sunday we celebrate the Eucharist – when the mystery of God’s love in Christ is made present to us – and listen to Scripture – discerning words of hope that are for all people.

    I love being a parish priest.

    But my answer to that original question contained a second part, which on the face of it was more ambivalent. I said, ‘I’m less patient.’ While five years ago I had some sense of the way in which the Church of England might need to change, I didn’t feel the same urgency I do now. I’m not from a Christian family but as a child the Church of England nurtured my faith and, for all its flaws, is my home. I have worshipped across the breadth of our denomination and, whilst some of that breadth I find personally challenging, I remain committed to finding a way for our whole church to flourish. As one we should be sharing the joy of the Good News.

    Given half a chance, I’d spend all day reading a novel because stories give me life. So it won’t come as a surprise that my faith is profoundly shaped by the stories we encounter in Scripture – especially the parables that Jesus told. In those parables two themes particularly shape my life as a follower of Christ, and then as a priest.

    First, the faithfulness that God requires of us. The sowing of the seed with no sense of what the return will be. And second, the generosity and hospitality of the God we worship – a God who bids us welcome. It’s a picture of abundance, but in my day-to-day life too often I’m forced to see things through a lens of scarcity. Post-pandemic, the volunteers we don’t have, the funds we can’t find, the stipendiary ministry roles we need to reduce, the scale of the need we are facing in our community and the struggle to keep pace with that. Sometimes it’s hard to remember we’re serving a God who invites us to a party.

    I long for our church to recapture that vision of a party so good you want to bring all your friends along as well, the festival you’d climb the fences to get into. And perhaps that last Glastonbury-based allusion is the root cause of my impatience. We’ve been invited to the best headline act ever and yet we’ve built high fences all round it to keep others out. Whereas God goes out on to the streets to welcome everyone in, we’ve too often been a church that serves only the people who look and think like ‘us’.

    My sense is that those of us who might describe ourselves as either ‘Inclusive’ or ‘liberal’ can sometimes be perceived as lukewarm in our longing to make Christ known. Of course this isn’t true, but I think those of us who hold those perspectives need to tell in a compelling way the story of a God whose arms are open wide to all. A God whose invitations to the party are surprising and unsettling to the older brothers of the world. A God who delights in and loves each and every one of us.

    Five years on from ordination to the priesthood, I’m impatient for a church that tells that amazing story with one voice.