Misreading the map...

Published in the Church of England Newspaper - 13 September 2013

I love walking in the Yorkshire Dales.

During my last visit there, I decided to walk up Great Whernside, a big bald moor rising above Wharfedale.  I set off with my map, bag and compass, quickly reaching the moor wall, beyond which there are few obvious features to help in finding the path.  As I checked my map, I saw a dotted line reaching up towards the summit so I set off, following it with the help of my compass.  I could see no visible path on the ground, but that was not unusual, and I pressed on across the moor.

Before long, I got into difficulties.  The ground became increasingly boggy, until I reached a point where I had to jump between tufts of marsh grass and dark sodden areas of peat bog.  I remember missing one tuft of grass and ending up thigh deep in thick peaty water scrambling to get out.  I checked the map again.  I was still on the dotted line but I realised that continuing on this route was both impossible and dangerous.

So reluctantly and carefully, I turned back and retraced my steps out of the bog and back to firm ground.

In the pub that night, I recounted my failed attempt to a local who looked surprised, and then roared with laughter when I showed him the dotted line I had tried to follow.

“That’s not a path” he said when he had stopped laughing. “That’s a parish boundary!”

Reflecting on this later, I saw the absurdity of what I had done.  I had diligently sought to follow the map.  I had followed this dotted line carefully and accurately.  But because I had misread the map my progress had ground to a sticky and dangerous halt in a miserable bog high up in the Dales.   The map wasn’t the problem – it was my interpretation of the map which was at fault.

I can’t help but think that we have made the same mistake in our understanding (or misunderstanding) of the Bible and homosexuality.  As the church, we have joined together a faint dotted line of scattered verses and have thought we understood the map of the scriptures.  We have tried to follow the path faithfully, only to find ourselves getting stuck in an ever more treacherous bog.

And now we have ground to an uncertain halt.

As the Archbishop of Canterbury noted in his address to General Synod, the world has moved on, and the church’s stance on sexuality, same-sex partnerships, and now marriage is putting us at odds with society at large.  At the recent opening of the new headquarters of Evangelical Alliance he spoke about the way in which the church’s position on sexuality is alienating younger people.  “We have to face the fact that the vast majority of people under 35 think not only that what we are saying is incomprehensible, but also think that we are plain wrong and wicked and equate it to racism.”

In Australia, research by the evangelical group Olive Tree Media showed that 69% of non-Christians surveyed said that church doctrine on homosexuality is a ‘belief-blocker’ – only exceeded by child abuse in churches.

As Evangelicals, we are passionate about sharing the good news of Jesus Christ in a way that opens hearts to a personal relationship with Him.  Yet our interpretation of Scriptures has led us into a dangerous dead-end where we are alienating the very people we want to reach.  We have sought to follow the Scriptures – our map – but perhaps we have misread them just like I misread that dotted line, and have found ourselves alone in the wilderness as a result.

On the moor, there was only one option for me – turn back and look again.  Perhaps we need to do the same.

Rev Benny Hazlehurst
Accepting Evangelicals

www.acceptingevangelicals.org

The Power behind the Throne

There is a throne in Canterbury Cathedral called the Chair of St Augustine.

It is the chair on which the new Archbishop of Canterbury will be seated when he begins his ministry.  Named after the first Archbishop of Canterbury, it conveys the authority and responsibilities of the role to the new Archbishop and the Anglican Church.  It is an ancient throne, one of oldest in existence, and when the new Archbishop is seated upon it, the Church of England will have a new leader.

I first became aware of its power some years ago when I was part of a small group who went to talk to Rowan Williams about the mess the church has got itself into on sexuality.  We met in the Archbishop in Lambeth Palace.  We met him in the hope that we could persuade him to be more proactive in promoting a new spirit of openness.  We met him hoping to re-awaken those things which he knew to be true about the gift of God at work in people of the same sex who love each other.

We should have been pushing at an open door.  Rowan Williams had gone on the record many times before he was appointed Archbishop of Canterbury in support of greater openness, acceptance and inclusion. 

But as our conversation developed, it became clear that no such commitment would be forthcoming.  Time and time again, he referred to his role as the present occupant of the Chair of St Augustine.  He talked of the weight of history and responsibility which the occupant of that Chair carries.  He talked about the need to preserve what he had been given – what had been entrusted to him.  He talked about his role as Archbishop in terms of being a guardian.  He told us that what he thought (as an individual) was irrelevant because his job as Archbishop was to hold together the great responsibility which the occupant of the Seat of St Augustine is given.

Our hearts sank.  We had hoped to meet with an anointed leader for the future - instead we found a guardian of the past.  We had met someone who had been called to leadership because of his great gifts – but then neutered by the power of the institution which had called him – the power behind the throne.

I have seen it before…

I saw it at work among the Church Commissioners when fighting to preserve affordable social housing in the Octavia Hill Estates which they owned and managed.  When I met them as individuals, I met thoughtful genuine Christians keen to listen and engage.  But when I met them as an institution, entrusted only with maximising profits, a very different persona emerged.  The power of the institution had overtaken them – they had become ‘institutionalised’ – only able to act in the way which was expected of them, putting money first and people second.

I have also experienced the corrupting power of the institution at first hand - the subtle pressure to behave in a particular way contrary to personal conviction.  I experienced it when I was a member of the OICCU Exec – the committee which ran the Oxford University Christian Union.  I was asked to take on the role of Outreach Secretary – to encourage and enable evangelism.  I came full of hope for what we might be able to do together – with fresh ideas, hopes and expectations, but I was naïve about the power of the institution.

Before we started our work, we were all taken away for the weekend by UCCF to be trained for the vital role we had been given.  We were reminded that we were being entrusted with a weighty responsibility – the continuation of many years of faithful evangelical witness to the University.  We were reminded of the tools we were to work with – the Bible and the Doctrinal Basis.  We were told that if we did our job properly, we would ensure that the next generation of leaders in the UK were Evangelical Christians who would, in turn, ensure that we continued to be a Christian Country (what a pretentious heresy that was!)  Our role was not to bring innovation or change – it was to continue the work of those who had been before and to defend OICCU against error and compromise.

And I have to say that I was taken in.  The criteria for our decisions became not ‘what seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us’ (Acts 15:28)  It was to do what was expected of us.

I remember the moment when this dawned on me.

It was when we voted to revoke an invitation to one of the most gifted and fruitful evangelists in Oxford - Canon Michael Green – because he would not sign our Doctrinal Basis of Faith.  His preaching had brought many hundreds of students in Oxford to faith in Christ.   He went on to be Professor of Evangelism at Regents College Vancouver, and came back to lead the Archbishops Springboard for Evangelism.  He wrote over 50 books on Christian apologetics and evangelism, but he wasn’t good enough to speak at our precious Christian Union because he would not conform himself to the expectations of our institution.

We had allowed ourselves to become institutionalised.

As the Crown Nominations Commission meets this week to decide who the next Archbishop of Canterbury will be, I can honestly say that I don’t know who should be appointed.  But unless it is someone who is strong enough to resist the power of the institution, I am also tempted to say that it doesn’t really matter.

What we need is an Archbishop who is courageous enough to lead us in the way of Christ. 

Jesus was no defender of the institution.  He refused to be boxed in, channelled or handled.  His concern was to bring new life – not preserve old structures, and he would not be manipulated into meeting the expectations of others.

And that is the Archbishop I am praying for…

Questions & Answers (& more Questions)

Every session of General Synod contains an Agenda item called “Questions” in which ordinary members of Synod can table questions.  These Questions are a little like Parliamentary Questions which MP’s can table in the House of Commons.  In parliament, the relevant Government Minister must stand up and answer the question.  In General Synod, it is the relevant Bishop, Archbishop or Chair of the relevant committee.

And last night the Archbishops of Canterbury and York had their work cut out as question after question was tabled about the recent Church of England response on same-sex Marriage.

'Who was the author?’  Synod members wanted to know.  Who saw it?  What was the membership of the group who finalised it?  Who voted on it and by what authority was it submitted as “the view of the Church of England”?  Who can truly claim to speak for the ‘Church of England’ on an area where there is such diversity of opinion?  Why was Synod not consulted?  Why are the votes of the House of Bishops not recorded and published?

To be fair, the Archbishop of Canterbury took it on the chin.  He tried to be helpful, and took the final responsibility with the Archbishop of York for signing off the response before it went to the Government.

As a result of the Archbishop's answers, we now know that the response was drafted by ‘staff’ at Church House in Westminster and presented to the Archbishops Council and House of Bishops in May.  The basis for the response was Canon B30 which says:

 The Church of England affirms, according to our Lord’s teaching, that marriage is in its nature a union permanent and lifelong, for better or worse, till death do us part, of one man with one woman, to the exclusion of all others on either side, for the procreation and nurture of children, for the hallowing and right direction of the natural instincts and affections, and for the mutual society, help and comfort which one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity.  

Suggestions were made and the House of Bishops “agreed the general shape of the response, considered a number of detailed suggestions … and invited the Archbishops to finalise the draft.”

But the answers only raised more questions…

A key question is who were the mysterious and anonymous ‘staff’ who drafted the response?  This is significant because we know of staff at Church of House who are sympathetic to the aspirations of same-sex couples, and we know of staff who are definitely not!  Without knowing which members of staff were tasked to write the response, we cannot know if it the group or individual was balanced, neutral or partisan.

Other questions followed from members of Synod…

If Canon B30 was the basis for opposing same-sex marriage, how is it that the Church of England can embrace the many church members (and indeed members of Synod) who have not lived up to its rigorous ideals of life-long union to the exclusion of all others?  Many marriages are not permanent and lifelong, but the Church does not exclude or oppose 2^nd, 3^rd or further marriages after divorce. 

If marriage is for the procreation of children, what about couples who cannot or do not want to have children?  The Archbishops answer appeared to stretch Conon B30 to breaking point when he responded that “The Church of England has never regarded the validity or value of marriage as dependent on the possibility or intention of having children.”

What consideration was given to the pastoral impact of issuing such an unequivocal rejection of the possibility of same-sex marriage, as many same-sex couples (including many Church members) woke up on the 11^th June to find their hopes and aspirations crushed?  The response was non-committal.

Were there any plans to revisit and review Canon B30?  “No” was the clear and definite answer.

Is the House of Bishops aware of the level of dismay and discontent the response had produced among faithful Anglicans?  “One cannot be anything but aware of this” the Archbishop said in response.

Last night was very revealing as Synod members probed the response which had been made in their name, but as often happens, the answers raised more questions than they answered.  At the end of the day, 4 key questions remain:

1.      Who were the ‘staff’ authors of the draft response and what personal perspectives did they bring to the task before them?

2.      If the Church is able and willing to recognise divorce and participate in remarriage without contravening Canon B30 insistence that the  “nature” of marriage is “permanent and lifelong”, why is the church not also able to consider recognising and (perhaps one day) participating in marriage of same-sex couples?

3.      If “the Church of England has never regarded the value or validity of marriage to be dependent on the possibility or intention of having children”, how is it that opponents of same-sex marriage can hold up the issue of procreation as a reason why gay people can’t get married?

4.      Given the coach and horses which these answers drive through the Church’s definition of marriage, why are there no plans to revisit and review Canon B30?

This is an issue which won’t just go away…

Archbishops haunted by a voice from the grave...

So now we know what really happened.

A bad tempered Archbishop shouting and losing his temper; mature, professional people being reduced to tears; back room deals or ecclesiastical arm-twisting in the toilets; all to exclude a gay priest and a pro-gay priest from being appointed to a top job.

It is hardly the atmosphere that one would expect to find amongst the Church of England’s spiritual leaders as they met to choose the next Bishop of Southwark – one of the most senior appointments in the CofE.

Before yesterday, many of us who were concerned by reports and rumours thought that we knew.  But last night The Guardian published a damning account of the last year’s secret meeting by one of the main participants – the late Dean of Southwark Cathedral, Colin Slee.

I knew Colin during my years working in Southwark Diocese.  He was a complex character – sometimes brash and bombastic – at other times deeply pastoral – but always a man of huge integrity.  He said what he thought, and told it like was, all through his ministry.  The Church of England has been lessened by his untimely death last November.

But it appears that he has left one last parting to gift to the church that both inspired and frustrated him – the gift of his account of the 2 days last year when the Archbishops and the Crown Nominations Commission met to choose a new Bishop for South London.  And now, following continuing disarray in the House of Bishops on the issue, his daughter has made the courageous decision to make the account public.

His account is not news to Lambeth Place.  It is the same account which Colin gave to the Archbishops’ enquiry which was investigating the leaks which brought this shameful process out into the open.  What is new is that ordinary church members and the public at large can now gain a glimpse behind doors that are usually guarded with such secrecy.

It is not a pretty picture.

When I first read the article last night, I posted a link to it on Twitter with the words “homophobic bullying” partly because I had also just seen a video account of such bullying that led a 15 year old to take his own life last year.  The Guardian article smacked of ecclesiastical bullying, with the Archbishops at the helm.  I also know some of the other people at the meeting.  They are strong, self-assured and mature individuals, and the thought that any of them could be reduced to tears shows be how thoroughly unpleasant the atmosphere must have been. 

But as I have reflected, I have realised how the reality is so much more complex than that.

The Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, is not homophobic.  Nor, I am sure is the Archbishop of York, John Sentamu.  Therefore by definition, they cannot be accused of being homophobic bullies.

So where did this all come from?

The real issue is the homophobic bullying that goes on day in and day out in the Church.  Jeffrey John has experienced this throughout his ministry and particularly following his abortive appointment as Bishop of Reading in 2003.  Other gay people have been systematically told that their ministry is not welcome in the church - or they have been told to keep quiet about their sexuality and relationships – to live a lie or face the consequences.

Even straight Christians such as myself, have been told that we are unfit for ministry and are wrecking God’s Church– just because we are advocating the acceptance of same-sex relationships in the church.  Once at General Synod, an Anglican Church leader who really ought to know better, implied to me in public that I should be careful about my salvation (a thinly veiled threat if ever I heard one) and should remember the reality of hell.

If I, a mere nobody in the structures of the Church of England, can be on the receiving end of such pressure, what must it be like for Archbishops whose private views are so at odds with the repressive policies they feel they have to uphold.

And there is the heart of the issue.  As a church, we have allowed homophobic bullying to become part of our institution – and allowed that institutional homophobia to corrode our leaders, our policies, our public statements, and our private decisions.

In the same way that the Steven Laurence enquiry came to the land-mark conclusion that the police were ‘institutionally racist’, so any independent enquiry into the Church of England would conclude that we are ‘institutionally homophobic’, and Colin Slee’s account of those 2 days last year proves it.

We have allowed the voice of institutional homophobia in the church to turn good people and gifted leaders into bad tempered bullies, desperate to defend the status quo, whatever that takes.  

It reminds me of a quote which I came across last year when I was doing some research before a speaking engagement.  It said,

"Considering all the evil that exists in the world, the fact that all of religion's condemnation is focused on expressing disapproval of two people loving each other proves just how evil religion is."   

Until we make a determined decision to be less ‘religious’ and more Christian – to be less concerned with upholding our corrupted institutions, and more concerned with following Jesus Christ, we will continue to allow our church to act like a bad tempered bully instead of embodying the loving God who sent his Son so to bring us life in all its fullness.

It is time for change.

Rays of Hope ...

After the near despair of my last few blogs, I am pleased to be able to post something more positive this week.

Few had high hopes for the recent Anglican Primates Meeting.  Several Archbishops boycotted the meeting, and there were others who were unable to come for various reasons.  The press were kept well away from proceedings, and more than a few commentators wondered if it would be worth all the time, energy and expense which such meetings consume.

By half way through, it appeared to be every bit the anti-climax which many were predicting, with seemingly endless discussions on what it means to be a Primate, and what role these meetings should have in the future.  It seemed to many, including me, to be a supreme exercise in ecclesiastical navel-gazing!

And yet there were some surprises on the way.

First and foremost, at the end of the meeting, the Primates who attended, actually seemed to have enjoyed meeting together - in stark contrast to recent meetings.  There were smiles, and descriptions of a meeting 'filled with grace'.  There was a Eucharist in which everyone participated fully.  There was a press conference which summed up the spirit of the week rather than briefing and counter briefing by different pressure groups.

And equally hopeful were the range of statements made at the end, including messages condemning violence against homosexuals, calling for action on climate change, and the end to systemic violence against women and children around the world.

No - it wasn't earth-shattering.  No - it won't re-chart the course of the Anglican Communion in 5 days, but it did mark the re-emergence of that intangible and yet vital Christian quality of 'fellowship'.

I had very low expectations of the meeting, but the Archbishop of Canterbury has been shown to be right in pressing on and giving his fellow Primates the time and space to meet without having to 'put the church to rights' all in one go.  His patience, forbearance, and the courage not to grasp the nettles have been proved to be exactly what the Communion needs at this time.  One can only hope and pray that the 'bonds of affection' which have been re-kindled in Dublin will be allowed to grow.

There are those, of course who have poured scorn on the meeting - not surpisingly, such negative comments have come from those who refused to attend.  Many clergy will recognise this phenomenon - the frozen bitterness of those who have decided that they must leave a church because they don't like the direction it is taking.  In their minds, the church remains frozen at the moment of their departure, locked in time and space in the midst of the issue that prompted their decision to go.  But churches do move on, often with a new creativity emerging after the pain of division - it is just that those who have absented themselves can't see it, simply because they are not there.

Their absence and bitterness should not be allowed to hold the church back from moving forward and discerning the paths of God - because, as the Archbishops in Dublin have shown us, the first rays of a new dawn will warm the hearts of those who remain.