Among the problems currently dividing our society, there are two key areas we struggle with. We have a growing inability to walk together with people holding a different view, and there is a breakdown of trust in established institutions. Those two challenges have not passed us by as a church, and they mark out what I suggest are two of the pressing needs for the Church of England to grapple with. Further I hope you agree that we are not doing very well at either. As a result any suggestion that we might have anything to say to the world out there is immediately in question.
I am currently standing for election to serve another term as a member of the Church of England’s General Synod. Two terms, eleven years of service to date, leave me with no illusions that there are easy fixes to these problems. I plan to touch on the divisions in our society here, and hope to return next week to the issue of trust.
(While what I write here is especially for the those thinking over how to cast their vote in the synod election, I strongly suggest I am stating a principle that we all need to live by. So do please read on. And if you are a person of prayer do please remember us; I know I and all of my colleagues will value that.
Five years of a deeply divided synod.
This past General Synod cohort has been marked by a huge gulf whenever it turns to address the ‘Living in Love and Faith’ (LLF) process around sexuality, especially same sex sexual partnerships and marriage. Along with that we have, for example, debated at length the composition of the groups representing us on the Crown Nomination Commissions which select Diocesan Bishops, who will of course play a major part in the application of the LLF decisions. Grown people debating for hours the exact numbers and make up of these groups because this composition or that size would give me and my tribe more chance of getting our way has too often been the sad reality of the past five years.
Viewing all this as a conflict mediator and with a strong commitment to community peace-building the division in our church has grieved me enormously. I am committed to the idea that for us to be a national church we must truly reflect the diversity of our whole nation: diversity of ethnicity, language, class and gender, as well as diversity of ideas and even theology. Writing briefly on the whole LLF process in my election address I said:
“While the Living in Love and Faith process has now concluded, I believe members of this new synod must commit to walking forward together, respecting our differences and uniting in working to ensure our churches are a safe place for all.”
Division at the heart of what makes us one.
In writing this blog post my mind turns to a pivotal moment for me in this whole process. At some point in each group of sessions we seek to celebrate the eucharist as a whole synod. Normally for a packed debate or gathering seating is tight, and that has often been the case for communion services. Back in February this year that was to be first thing on the Wednesday morning. Expecting the chamber to be full, I arrived early and took a seat. A friend soon joined me, and as the time to start approached we noted there were a lot of empty seats.
A bit of explanation: as the LLF process has continued a good number in our midst who are unhappy at the developments have been considering how they might navigate the future. How can we remain in unity in our difference? And at what point is that unity unable to hold? The centre point in our lives together as the Anglican Communion is the communion, sharing together in the eucharistic feast. But when that unity around the core of our faith is broken can we really be described as in unity? Practically speaking, if we cannot accept the bread and wine consecrated by ‘that bishop’ whether that is because they have ordained women, or we believe they have liberal / progressive / ‘unorthodox’ views on same sex relationships what is the real state of unity?
That February Wednesday our newly appointed (but not yet installed) Archbishop Sarah was to celebrate at the eucharist. It goes without saying that Sarah is a woman, but she also led on and supported the LLF process. Very sadly, that morning a significant number made clear their feelings on her appointment by their absence. As we began our worship with so many empty seats around us, my neighbour and I looked very sadly at one another. We knew we both grieved at the way things had emerged in recent years.
During the service we came to a moment of silence. Still feeling the pain of our broken communion, my mind turned to words of one of my mentors in the art of peace-building and reconciliation. Father Gerry Reynolds was a Roman Catholic Priest, a member of the Redemptorist Clonard Monastery in the Falls, at the heart of the Irish Republican and Catholic community in Belfast. When I first met him in the early 2000’s he had for two decades been leading groups of Catholics to visit Presbyterian, Methodist or Church of Ireland church services. His close colleague and friend Rev Ken Newell, minister of Fitzroy Presbyterian Church in central Belfast, similarly took groups from the Protestant community to Roman Catholic services. The Clonard - Fitzroy Fellowship laid real foundations for community peace. Alongside this, Father Gerry’s close colleague at Clonard, Father Alec Reid quietly gave political substance to the foundations for peace, especially acting as go-between between the IRA and the British Government The final result of their and many other’s work was the Good Friday agreement of 1998. Between them Father Gerry and Ken Newell laid strong foundations for peace and reconciliation, showing that Catholics and Protestants could live together.
Choosing to sit in the pain of our divisions
On several occasions I heard Father Gerry talk about what lay at the heart of that reconciliation. His response went something like this: “When I took a group of Clonard folk to a Fitzroy service, I would always be asked, what do we do during the communion? My answer was simple. You are free to leave if you wish. However, I find it most beneficial to spend that time sitting quietly, experiencing and reflecting on the pain of our divisions and separation. As we chose to sit in that pain and prayed for our unity to be restored, we laid a foundation for peace, primarily because we demonstrated our commitment to reconciliation, even at great cost.”
Father Gerry’s words came very powerfully to me that Wednesday morning. I was deeply saddened that my sisters and brothers preferred their own alternative service, rather than to sit in the pain of our separation as members of synod. Our obedience to Jesus’ challenge to unity is surely communion with Christ in his suffering?
This is no easy answer, its not a short cut. There is still much practical work to do, but I believe that our choice to pursue difficult obedience sets our hearts in the right direction.
I suggest the simple but profound choice central to Father Gerry’s work raises many questions for us, on this but indeed many areas of division. Am I as an aspiring synod member prepared to sit in that place myself if I am the one being excluded? And how does this impact my synod vote?
I am really keen not to sit for the next five years in debates rehearsing the same arguments we had for the past five but with 40% or more different people - re-legislating decisions, hitting the same brick walls, further enhancing the division in the church, deepening further the hurt in our gay members, and looking ridiculous to the world outside . And I don’t want new members to experience that. And I certainly don’t want the church sitting, watching and despairing at it all. If we are to walk forward together as a synod, a church and society, let’s try something different.
Our approaches have undermined the very meaning of ‘Synod.’ The word derives from the idea of walking together.’ As we walk, we often talk. But the side by side conversation is of a very different nature to face to face conversation. It is less intense, we pause, we reflect, we respond more thoughtfully. We journey togather in our ideas as well as literally. I have chosen to walk a different way as i review my understanding of sexualit. It has been marked by listening to those different to me.
So where does Peter Adams sit on LLF and sexuality?
This post is not primarily about how I stand on LLF. Its about the sort of church we want, and how we walk together.
In that spirit, I have chosen again not to be aligned with any group campaigning on sexuality and LLF, neither the Conservative Evangelicals or Charismatics making the Alliance, and having not signed their statement of faith I am not on my DEF’s list of preferred candidates. But neither am I on Together for the Church of England’s list.
Its not that I don’t have views, but I do not like labels and tribes. They cause us to see the world adversarially. As I said in my address “… if pressed I would describe myself as an open inclusive charismatic evangelical with a deep heart connection with the eastern orthodox church! Or perhaps more briefly a Jesus follower!” I seek to learn from each step of my life’s journey. The intentional focus on human sexuality and relationships since I joined synod in 2015 has had me choose to spend much time with LGBTQI+ people, and I have been deeply challenged. Over those same years I have walked with two dear friends as they were seeking to come to terms with their sexuality and as they came out. My votes along the way reflect that journey, but there have been times when I have not voted as I was deeply conflicted. My account of the debates in February 2023 as we decided the way forward on LLF describes my own journey.
I short, I voted for same sex blessings and specifically for The Prayers of Love and Faith. I have not felt able to support same sex marriage. And with that same honesty I cannot say how I would vote on that if it came up again.
I will return to the issue of the breakdown of trust in my next post.
Note: Father Gerry Reynolds and Rev Ken Newell’s story is told in ‘Friendship Towards Peace’ by Ronald Wells (Colomba Press 2005).