Unholy irony

Yesterday, eclipsed by events on the domestic political stage, the whole Church of England General Synod, after a passionate address by the Archbishop of Canterbury and a shorter message from the Archbishop in Jerusalem, stood for two minutes in reverent silence praying for peace and reconciliation in Israel/Gaza. It was ironic therefore it was followed by a series of questions, some clearly barbed, on the subject of sexuality, which simply exposed how deeply and indeed bitterly divided the Church's Synod is over the issue. I suppose the people who stand for Synod, as for Parliament, will be activists by inclination, as it might be front-line warriors. Perhaps this is good for sharpening policies (to use political terminology). However I'm not sure the Church is meant to be a political body. I don't mean that it should not comment on or be involved in civil politics. But that's not its essence. That is to be a community of love, a community which models what loving and living together looks like. As its founder said, " I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.  By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."

 

Well, this afternoon will no doubt see the major engagement when the debate concerning the blessing of same-sex couples is scheduled. It's not something I should look forward to. I don't suppose many, if any, will change their views. I have my own hopes for the outcome - which is that the proposal for a stand-alone service of blessing as well as prayers for use in other services should be approved. 

 

Personally I'd like our present pattern for weddings completely shaken up and reformed. It wouldn't of course solve objections to blessing same-sex relationships, but it would create room for more flexibility for differing traditions without doing away with the joys of church celebrations. Let me explain...

 

Time was when one of our pleasures was travelling to Europe, in the halcyon days before Brexit of course. One particularly bright memory was sitting of an evening witnessing a wedding party emerging from the mairie on their way to the church for the priest to bless the happy couple. “What a good arrangement!” I thought. The legal bit done by the mayor, the religious bit left to the priest. 

 

Much as I enjoyed doing a “good wedding” when I was a vicar, I was always aware of a tension between my role as a registrar - which came with the job - and my role as a pastor. Of course the civil bit brings in a useful revenue stream for the diocese and the parish, and all the extras like the organist, bellringers, verger etc, who are all worthy of their hire. The clergy earn nothing in addition to their stipend except maybe an invitation to the knees-up afterwards. At some point in our history the Church bagged a monopoly of celebrating weddings which lasted until the last century, I imagine. I suppose it was part of its campaign to take over all the levers of power - benevolently naturally, such as the right to 26 "Lords Spiritual" sitting in the House of Lords, which was once more significant than now when absurdly there are as many as 800 peers (plus one as of yesterday). No doubt this would involve difficulties concerning Canon Law - the minutiae of which resemble, it seems to me, the laws of the scribes and pharisees about which Jesus had something trenchant to say.

 

However, now it is really time to escape the magnetic attraction of our own importance and to make real our calling to serve the society in which we are placed. And like it or not our country now solemnises marriage between couples of all sorts. We can either refuse to acknowledge the fact, or bless all those that reflect the covenant relationship of enduring love that God has demonstrated for broken humankind. After all, who would deny communion or burial or the baptism of their child to someone who had been married in a registry office?

Fear and trembling (part 1)

It was with a certain amount of trepidation that I started to watch the Wednesday afternoon's debate on prayers of blessing for same-sex partners in the Church of England's General Synod. What an arcane process! One wonders what mind devised such a weird institution to decide church affairs. What a depressing watch! So much distrust in a Christian community.

Apparently the Synod has powers to legislate in church matters devolved by Parliament - which might explain the convolutions and the politicking of speakers. It seemed an unholy spectacle of power-playing. Occasionally I had glimpses of what resonated to me as good theology. Mostly there were unsubstantiated assumptions, stated as unquestionable truths, for example that marriage always has been exclusively between one man and woman, that sex before marriage has always been regarded as wrong.

It turned out that my trepidation was justified. The members got tired and the debate extended to Thursday morning, and after 28 amendments and eight hours' discussion a vote on the motion (amended) was taken and narrowly won. The star of the show was undoubtedly Geoffrey Tattersall KC who gracefully chaired the whole thing and stuck to the standing orders much to the irritation of those who wanted to gun for the Bishops. Second to him was the Bishop of London, and formerly Chief Nursing Officer of England, Sarah Mullally. It was her job to answer every amendment which she did with reason and calmness. I was saddened by the refusal of many to trust her integrity and that of others.

There was, it seemed to me, a concerted effort by the procedural device of amendments to delay or thwart the Bishops' proposals. I had the sense of a flexing of muscles by some influential and well-endowed parts of the Church to have their own way. Well, I suppose that's the nature of democracy, but I'm not sure it's the way of Christ. There was talk of the sanctity of truth. However, I'm not sure whether it wasn't the old Hellenistic and Enlightenment view of truth, i.e. propositional reason, rather than the Christian view, that truth is relational. Hence faith and love are relational, not credal. 

Whether the Bishops will be given the grace to find what a friend describes as the way of "reconciliation – how to live with people one can’t bear – starting from oneself sometimes" remains to be seen. People of goodwill will pray so.