New Legislative Proposals — what does GS 1886 mean?

Right, if you’re not interested in Church of England politics, look away now. Go watch some kittens or something.

The House of Bishops has published a report recommending one of four possible legislative proposals drafted by the working group on women in the episcopate.

They have recommended Option One. Option One, most simply put, means: 1) make it legal for women to be Bishops 2) remove the statutory right of parishes to pass Resolution A (that is, a woman may not preside at Holy Communion in the parish) or Resolution B (that is, a woman may not be appointed as incumbent, priest in charge or team vicar) from the 1993 Measure. The words in the report, and the link to it, are at the end of this post.

This is a huge improvement on the current situation, but still double-edged, I think. If we’d started here when women were finally allowed to be ordained as priests, or even in earlier debates on the topic, I think it would have been the right way to go. I do not accept that the Church of England should provide legal protection against women being priests in any parish, any more than it should provide legal protection against those who don’t support the ordination of women being priests. Under current provision Resolutions A and B need to be discussed by the PCC every time there is an interregnum, which is certainly unhelpful. “Is it OK for a woman to be a priest? (5 years later) Are you sure? (8 years later) Are you still sure? (26 years later) Are you really, really still sure?” is no way to proceed. Scrapping the 1993 Measure would allow us to scrap that continuing uncertainty, which would surely alleviate some of the stereotype threat experienced by ordained women.

This gives me all kinds of hope.

But I worry that this could leave parishes discriminating against women without even going through the formality of passing a resolution and looking at the theology. It will be even more important, should this legislation be carried forward, for everyone involved in selecting parish representatives to be clear about their expectations and views, not just to assume that everyone in the parish feels the same way they do about the ordination of women. My own experience suggests that many of us would prefer not to talk about things that are difficult: I am sorry to say that I believe allowing this tendency to go unchecked will, in fact, lead to greater discrimination against women, simply because they are women, rather than because of any theology within the broad spectrum of Anglican belief. Sadly the world is generally still hostile to women. It’s true that this sort of prejudice can and does exist quite happily with the 1993 Measure in place, but I think it’s possible that without some structural provision for theological objections, all objections will be assumed to be theological.

I do not know what support, training and guidance is currently given to parish representatives involved in the process of selecting parochial clergy. I imagine it varies considerably from place to place. I would welcome intensive training for parishes on these issues. The goal of this would not be to influence the outcome either way, but to be aware of and hopefully mitigate received prejudices regarding gender, education, liturgical style, age, disability, marital status and a whole host of other variables found in ministers.

The legal barriers to women in the episcopate need to be removed, and this proposed legislation would do that. But for a church that truly accepts the ministry of all regardless of gender, we need cultural change beyond the legal provision.

My personal views on the ordination of women can be found at “On the ordination of women — a personal note”.

31. The House has, therefore, decided that the motion which it wishes to bring to the Synod in July is as follows:
‘That this Synod:
(a) reaffirm its commitment to admitting women to the episcopate as a matter of urgency;
(b) instruct the Appointments Committee to appoint this month a Steering Committee to be in charge of the draft legislation required to that end;
(c) instruct the Business Committee to arrange for the First Consideration stage for that draft legislation to be taken at the November 2013 group of sessions, so that the subsequent stages can follow the timetable set out in paragraph 141 of the annex to GS 1886; and
(d) instruct the Steering Committee to prepare the draft legislation on the basis described in paragraphs 79-88 of the annex to GS 1886 as ‘option one’ and invite the House of Bishops to bring to the Synod for consideration at the February 2014 group of sessions a draft Act of Synod or draft declaration to be made by the House to accompany the draft legislation.’
33. This motion reflects both what the House believes to be the natural starting point for the debate and what most of its members currently favour as the most desirable outcome.
34. We commend this process to the prayers of the whole Church as we seek the guidance of the Holy Spirit in the months to come.

“Option One” is as follows:

79. Many responses to the consultation document called for ‘the simplest possible legislation’. What was meant by that was:
– A measure and amending canon that made it lawful for women to become bishops; and
– The repeal of the statutory rights to pass Resolutions A and B under the 1993 Measure, plus the rescinding of the Episcopal Ministry Act of Synod.
80. It is important to note that, strictly speaking, the simplest possible new legislation would consist only of the first of these two elements since it is not necessary to repeal the 1993 Measure in order to enable women to become bishops. The simplest possible legislative approach would therefore leave in place the ability for parishes to pass Resolutions A and/or B.
81. Those who favour the ‘simplest possible legislation’ are, however, describing the state of the law that they would wish to result from the new legislation rather than describing the draft measure itself. So the simple approach described here as option one incorporates both of the elements in paragraph 79. And, for reasons discussed further under option three, it would not in any event be desirable to leave the 1993 Measure in place without making some amendments to it.
82. What then would the effect of this approach? Currently parishes know that if they pass Resolutions A or B under the 1993 Measure certain consequences must follow. If they pass Resolution A they know that a woman cannot preside at Holy Communion. If they pass Resolution B they know that a woman cannot be appointed as incumbent, priest in charge or
a team vicar. The effect of these resolutions is legally binding on everyone concerned, including bishops, clergy and patrons.
83. In the absence of statutory provision of this kind it would be for each of the various parties to reach their own view, within the framework of the general law and taking such account as they wished of any statements declarations or guidance that the House of Bishops or the Synod might have made nationally. The consequences in terms of the Equality Act are considered in the next section.
84. A decision to go for the simplest possible measure and canon – including repealing the 1993 Measure and rescinding the Act of Synod – could be accompanied by some kind of formal declaration by the House of Bishops or by the making of a new Act of Synod. Either form of instrument could include a preamble setting out the Church’s commitment to maintaining diversity and spelling out some expectations in relation to simplicity, reciprocity and mutuality.
85. Both an Act of Synod and a declaration by the House of Bishops could therefore provide a possible way of seeking to secure some degree of consistency across the Church of England. What they would have in common is that neither would be legally binding on anyone.
86. As between a declaration by the House of Bishops and an Act of Synod there would be a greater formality in embodying any national policy commitments and guidance in an Act of Synod since this would mean that the provisions would have the support of all three Houses.
87. To avoid uncertainty at the point of final approval of the measure and amending canon it would be possible for the Act of Synod to be made in advance of that point.
88. So, in summary, of the options discussed in this paper, this is the one that would rely least on law and place the greatest emphasis on trust. It would allow a diversity of belief about gender and ministry to continue in the Church of England but it would mean that how that was worked out in practice would be dependent on the discretionary decisions of individual bishops, clergy, PCCs, patrons and parish representatives.

Source available from the C of E here.

The Angel : a poem for Stephanie Bottrill

by Trish Burns

Joey slips behind me, mewing
as, unthinking, I replace
the cups and pens, the writing pad
in the box marked “Kitchen.”
He purrs against my legs – I touch him -
grumbles as the front door clicks.
He will be better fed.

My home is not my home now,
Nor have I elsewhere, nor am I fed.
I must be gone, and I am gone -
ghosting between the houses
which sleep on in the early light.
How lovely the terrace in the near-day,
a shard of peeling paint – the last thing.

I approach the river of sound
and see my angel coming.
He is wrapped in cloud and thunder.
There will not be much pain,
I shall not see my son’s face in the glass.

How beautifully the world is closing,
the rain on my cheek, the eastering light.
My angel is here, I step forward
and meet him, face to face.

(Posted with permission)

ACTORS WANTED!

At St Andrew’s Leytonstone this summer we’re hosting Mystery Plays as an organ fundraiser.

I’ve made an initial list of ten plays (playlets really). The idea is to have all of these covered by the beginning of June, after which if more people want to join us they’re welcome and we can expand.

Various local groups have expressed interest in participating and I’ll be approaching them this week to see what they’d like to do. In the meantime, if anyone reading this wants to take on a play, either with a few friends or in an already-established group, please let me know!

You don’t need to be a church-goer or a Christian to take part, or to be available for loads of rehearsals. There will be a wide range of groups taking part, from (I hope) the local Scouts to semi-professional actors, and I expect that the style and presentation of the plays will vary accordingly. You do need to be able to get to St Andrew’s Leytonstone on Saturday, 20th July for the performance, and you need to be able to rehearse on your own. You can use a traditional rhyming script (please remove the anti-Semitism if you do: if you’re not sure about this, I can help), or make up your own, or we can provide you with a modern-language script for some of the scenes listed here.

Don’t worry about there not being enough space: once these ten playlets are covered, we can always expand, so if you want to take part you won’t be displacing anyone who has already registered their interest.

1. Creation — Eve and Adam | this play is now TAKEN
2. Flood — Noah
3. Exodus — Moses
4. Ruth
5. Nativity
6. Baptism of Jesus
7. Last Supper
8. Crucifixion & Death of Jesus
9. Supper at Emmaus
10. First Pentecost

I know this leaves a lot of holes in the story: we will have a narrator (or a few narrators) who can fill in the gaps, so that e.g. Jesus doesn’t go directly from being baptised to the Last Supper without anything happening in between!

If you’d like to take part please contact standrewsorganappeal at gmail dot com. You can also comment here and leave your details, but if you’ve commented here before the comment won’t be moderated so it’s probably best to e-mail instead.

Those Naughty Organists

I read with some bemusement an article in the Telegraph. Beware the wrath of the church organist, it warns, and goes on to list various musical infelicities.

Slipping unexpected tunes into music is practically obligatory, as far as I’m concerned. Yes, I will play “We’re walking in the air” as a recessional voluntary when it is actually snowing (or at least for the first Sunday snowfall of the year); this past Sunday, I played variations on “The Sun Has Got His Hat On.” This is gentle humour, not wrathful revenge, and I am often thanked for it by congregation and clergy alike; sometimes people even make suggestions, and if I think they’re appropriate I’m very happy to oblige. Like any humour in churches, pastoral sensitivity is required and there are bound to be occasions where it goes wrong. I’ve heard wedding sermons with actually offensive jokes in them (not, I hasten to add, at St Andrew’s!), and I’m disinclined to make much of those rare occasions where a recessional turns out to be a little too close to the bone.

I’m more discreet with music during services, but if there is a hymn quoted in the sermon, I will try to work it into the improvisation after the Communion hymn. If there is an obvious theme for the day (a few weeks ago it was sheep) I will play something relevant. This isn’t humour as such; more drawing attention to connections between things. People learn in different ways and the tune of a hymn, for some, can reinforce something they’ve learned, or help them see a passage in a new light. And again, these allusions and musical puns are not always my idea: I’ve had the Dr Who theme requested for an All Age service involving a time machine before now.

I know that joke about the difference between organists and terrorists. I won’t repeat here the reciprocal equivalent for the clergy: it isn’t kind, and like its counterpart it is generally untrue. I’ll just say that organists and clergy both tend to care about liturgy, don’t always see eye to eye, and display the full range of human error in their interactions with one another; yes, this means that some working relationships can be difficult.

But let’s get real. If we were dealing with wrath, here, we wouldn’t be talking musical jokes. I play the loudest thing in the building — no, the loudest thing on the block — and if I wanted to be disruptive, the 16′ CONTRA FAGOTTO is at my disposal. Of course I would not use such weaponry in an argument with clergy or congregation: I would consider it unprofessional, very poor musicianship, very poor leadership, very poor discipleship. I can’t think of a single organist I know who would behave in such a manner.

I note that the Telegraph article has a link mid-way down the page to an “article” (I would call it an advertorial, really) for a sort of hymn karaoke machine, marketed to stressed-out vicars with a shortage of musicians and not enough musical training themselves to be able to lead hymns with confidence. I’ve seen various other versions of this spiel before, and it’s a bit tired, to be honest. Could it be that the “ooh, scary mean organists are going to MESS UP YOUR CHURCH” tone of today’s article is intended to provide a little boost to this apparently cost-effective solution?

I respectfully submit that live music, albeit appropriate to the context of the church in question and realistic for its resources, is usually going to be a better long-term investment.

WLP2: Workfare and church investments

This is the second letter of the Weekly Letter Project. This week (yes, I’m late) I am writing to James Featherby of the Church of England’s Ethical Investment Advisory Group.

Dear Mr Featherby,

I was pleased to see that the national investing bodies of the Church of England have adopted a policy on executive remuneration on the recommendation of the Church’s Ethical Investment Advisory Group (EIAG). I agree that excessive executive bonuses can contribute to short-term thinking and that taking a longer view may result in a fairer, and more sustainable, approach.

I note that the policy states that “it is important that such differentials are justified by some reasonable calculus linking higher rewards to greater contribution, skills and responsibility and that those who are lower paid are also rewarded fairly”. Point 10 of the report uses Biblical teaching to address the practice of withholding wages from employees, citing Lev. 19.13, Deut. 24.14-15, Jer. 22.13, Mal. 3.5 and James 5.4.

In light of this, I would like to suggest that in addition to excessive executive remuneration, “workfare” or work-for-benefits programmes be examined with great care. These schemes involve people on Jobseekers Allowance or other benefits being told they must take up “voluntary” unpaid work experience or lose their benefits.

It is difficult to see how such schemes will help to reduce unemployment or bolster the economy. Why should companies employ people at the minimum wage when they can have staff at taxpayer expense instead of their own? Additionally, benefit claimants who are on such schemes are very unlikely to contribute to economic growth: by definition, they will spend very little. These concerns are in addition to the ethical problem of compulsory participation in work.

There is more information about these schemes available at http://www.boycottworkfare.org, the website of a grassroots campaigning group. At that site there is also a “Union motion — boycott workfare” document (http://www.boycottworkfare.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/union-motion-Jan-2013.pdf) which I enclose and commend to your attention. The section “This Union Branch notes:” offers a good explanation of what the term “workfare” refers to. In my view the section “The Union Branch believes:” is consistent with Christian faith.

I would appreciate it if the Ethical Investment Advisory Group could examine this issue in depth. I would be delighted if you could recommend against investing in companies that make use of Mandatory Work Experience or other compulsory work programmes enforced by benefits sanctions.

Yours faithfully,

Kathryn Rose

Jeremy Hunt song

With many thanks to @Turkeyplucker for the words:

Now some say that Minister Lansley
Is better than Jeremy Hunt;
They’re both set on privatisation,
And I say that each one’s a –

Come for your jabs and your X-rays,
Come get your broken bones set,
And come buy a piece of the service,
They haven’t sold all of it yet!

Give back, give back the National Health Service to us, to us!
Give back, give back the National Health Service to us!

It’s true that a government’s image
Is set by the men at the front;
So just look at Cam’ron and Osborne:
It’s quite clear that each one’s a –

Come for your jabs and your X-rays,
Come get your broken bones set,
And come buy a piece of the service,
They haven’t sold all of it yet!

Give back, give back the National Health Service to us, to us!
Give back, give back the National Health Service to us!

If IDS lived on low income,
‘Twere quite a publicity stunt;
But would it affect his opinions,
And make him be less of a –

Come for your jabs and your X-rays,
Come get your broken bones set,
And come buy a piece of the service,
They haven’t sold all of it yet!

Give back, give back the National Health Service to us, to us!
Give back, give back the National Health Service to us!

That’s all I’ve managed to record tonight; but Chris has added another verse…

They’ve taken a stance on migration
Just left of the National Front;
They try to sound nicer than UKIP,
But still every one is a –

WLP1: joined-up housing help

This is the first letter of the Weekly Letter Project. This week I am writing to Rev Canon Paul Hackwood, chair of the board of trustees of the Church Urban Fund, about an idea for helping churches provide social housing.

I struggled to get this down to one page of A4: the font is smaller than I’d like and I had to mess with the page margins! Next week, I’ll try to keep it shorter.

Dear Canon Hackwood,

I read your article in the Observer on 8th December, which was more recently linked to on Twitter, describing some of the effects of recent changes to social security and providing an overview of the response of the Church Urban Fund. Thank you very much for the good work you already do. The parish I belong to participates in the “Near Neighbours” scheme along with a neighbouring Hindu temple, so I have some first-hand experience of the sort of renewal that is possible with a bit of help.

I have become increasingly concerned about people who are already vulnerable or struggling financially losing what housing they have due to changes in social security or employment.

I am aware that there are already a number of Christian charities working at a number of different levels with people who are homeless. I also know there are housing associations with varying degrees of connection with churches.

It is clear to me that there is a severe shortage of affordable housing. It is also clear to me that there are hundreds of churches with under-used, poorly-developed church halls. I wonder whether these two circumstances could be “joined up”.

I have heard of some churches putting small flats into their church halls. In most cases building one or two per hall would still allow plenty of room for other activities. The flats would be rented out at lower than market rates, providing affordable housing to people who might otherwise struggle to find it. This also creates a small but steady income for the church, which would in the first instance be used sustainably to pay off the loan for the build in the first place.

I am aware that this approach would not be appropriate in all contexts. Some churches have very limited hall space already and the space would be better used as available for community events than housing. And of course, it would be wrong for churches to seek high rent for housing we provide. However, it seems to me there is also great potential here for outreach to the wider community, particularly in conjunction with existing projects helping those in precarious housing situations, or who need sheltered housing.

I wonder if in most cases the main obstacles are in fact administrative: the idea of developing part of the church property as rental property is daunting given the layers of planning permission, listed buildings and so on. I am aware of the work of Housing Justice, and their Faith in Affordable Housing resource, which includes excellent guidance on mixed-used church hall redevelopment as well as more traditional “disposal” of church property for social housing. However, I am not aware of any schemes to provide churches with project management guidance or specific administrative help in moving toward offering church property as rented social housing. Do such schemes or organisations exist? If not, would the Church Urban Fund consider looking into the practicalities of setting up such a programme?

Yours faithfully,

Kathryn Rose

Weekly Letter Project

I know, I know, no posts for weeks at a time and then they all come at once. It’s amazing how much I can write when I don’t want to tidy up.

I have written before on the problems of the “you make your own life” narrative. Since I wrote that post, the situation in Britain has not improved. Things are, frankly, dire and getting even worse.

@kaygeeuk, who has carried out more activist interventions than I’ve had hot dinners, has a great post on activism before the internet. Read, mark, learn, inwardly digest; and then do some of it, please.

My aim, in activism, is not to stop this or fight that or resist the other. My aim in activism is to change the narrative from “you make your own life” to something else; something better, more hopeful, but also more truthful. I can’t articulate it well, at least not in secular terms. It might be “We have abundance if we share” (think about how radical that is to someone who hoards their wealth for fear of not having enough). It might be “Love is stronger than hatred, kindness is more powerful than fear.” It might be something else.

Random acts of activism are all well and good, but I crave systematic procedures, strategic processes. So, being me, I’ve decided to add another project to the ever-growing list. I’m calling it, unless someone else comes up with a better name, the Weekly Letter Project.

In many ways it does what it says on the tin. I’ve decided to try and write one letter per week, for a year, starting this week. That’s fifty-two letters in a year, though I may double up some weeks and skip others just for sanity’s sake. This is not, in fact, my idea; I think it was TheFerrett who did something similar, way back when I followed him on LiveJournal.

The object of this letter writing is not to rant and rave and react against things I don’t like, but to contribute, if I can, to positive change. This may mean writing to my MP; it may also mean writing to religious leaders, celebrities, industry bosses — you name it. It might mean writing a note of encouragement and support to someone who is already making a positive difference but could use a kind word. I want to write to people who might listen, who should listen, who are or could be influential; I want to avoid both people who won’t listen because we differ so much as to be speaking different languages, and those who already think so much like I do that I’d be preaching to the choir. Suggestions are welcome.

The letters will be in my own words. I will draw heavily on the “Twitter hivemind” and other resources, but if I thought using others’ words in their entirety were helpful I would just sign more petitions. Similarly, I don’t intend to send the same letter out fifty-two times to different people. One person, one letter, hopefully sufficiently tailored to their viewpoint and concerns that they will at least consider my contributions.

The letters will be open. I will be printing them and sending them in the mail, but also posting them on here. Recipients of the letters will be informed of the blog posts, so that they can respond online if it is easier for them. Part of the reason for this is to foster an open response, but part of the reason is so that others can add their points of view. Comment moderation could get interesting!

The letters will be moderately short: they will fit on one side of A4 paper, and I won’t spend more than an hour on each. These aren’t meant to be perfect, they’re meant to get done. I can’t afford either to spend an entire day per week writing a letter, or to do so and then have them ignored because TL;DR.

I am inviting you to join me. Can you write? Would you spend an hour a week or less doing so? Do you want to make the world better? We can trade letter-writing tips, encourage one another in busy weeks, link to one another’s blog posts, trade ideas on what to write about. We can all write to different people, especially where we have different areas of expertise. Don’t have access to a printer? Maybe we can buddy up (no, I’m not committing to printing a potentially infinite number of letters).

If you’re in, contact @WeeklyLetterPro on Twitter, or reply to this post.

Sing Alleluia, and keep on walking

Thanks to @DrBattyTowers for the title of this post. I know she’s used it, too; I just couldn’t think of a better one for what I’m going to say later.


Image from Miss Music Nerd.

Holy Week has been and gone; Christ is risen, and walking amongst us.

Yesterday — Easter Day — was a varied one for me. I woke early, having been up late enough to notice that yes, my various devices moved over to Daylight Savings Time, which is called British Summer [sic] Time in these parts. I spent some time in the excited and enthusiastic preparation of my Easter Bonnet:

then took myself off to church, to put it in action (see organ shot above).

I came home, was too excited to really eat properly, and my housemate wasn’t home yet. So, because I am just a bit of a church fan, and because the chicken in the slow cooker wasn’t going to suffer for cooking a few more hours, I put my hat back on and turned up at Southwark Cathedral for Evensong. Note: if you ever want to be noticed by members of the clergy, turning up in a silly hat seems to work quite well.

This also attracted the attention of some friends among the lay clerks, so I ended up having a congenial pint post-Evensong before heading back to the Cathedral for Compline — a bit early, but I do love that office.

Heading home I didn’t get very far very fast. Waiting to cross the road, I saw a man opposite stumble, stagger, try to stay upright, and fall. By the time the lights changed and I had crossed the road, someone had called an ambulance, a couple of people had gathered around and many more had moved on.

There wasn’t much to be done. The man was insensible, delirious perhaps, semi-conscious. He was unkempt and ruddy-faced, wearing dirty clothes that didn’t fit well. He may have been homeless, or just very hard-up. He might have been drunk — or he might have had diabetes, or a serious head injury, or a number of other conditions that can cause similar symptoms and behaviour.

Whatever his problem, it was evident that being cold wasn’t going to make it better. I emptied my pockets into my handbag, took my coat off, and used it as a blanket to keep him warmer while we waited for paramedics to turn up. Occasionally, sitting there, I tried to make him more comfortable. I tried to understand what he was saying, but couldn’t make most of it out. He wet himself twice, while we waited. Thankfully I was sitting uphill. I tried to find out his name, where he was from, but the most I could make out was him shouting for, at or to someone called Johnny, and a “good girl” when I put my rolled-up jacket under his head as a pillow.

The paramedics turned up the better part of an hour later. I won’t comment on what took so long; triage is hard. Many thanks should go to the man in Oddbins at London Bridge, who called the ambulance initially. He also loaned me a jacket to keep some of the wind off me while I waited, brought tea to the three of us who were waiting and conscious, gave me a bin bag to put my coat in afterward, and let me use the staff loo in the shop. I’m grateful, too, for the other two girls who waited with me: I would have felt more vulnerable without their company, given that not everyone takes kindly to the sight of a drunk guy half passed-out on the street and a woman in a crazy hat. The paramedics, on arrival, seemed kindly as well as clinically competent. My housemate, his dinner with me now rather delayed, brought my other coat with me to the Tube station, so I didn’t have to walk home in the cold or put on the black coat, now filthy to the point of being unwearable.

But this post isn’t, in fact, about acclamation for good deeds. I’m no Good Samaritan: I didn’t stick around to find out what happens next, to ensure that the patient will be all right after the hospital is done with him; I’ll probably never see the man again.

Rather, I wish to ask:

What does resurrection hope mean for people who are in the position of the man I sat with yesterday, waiting and watching? What does resurrection hope mean for society’s most vulnerable, here and now?

And what are we doing about it?