Tomorrow is a big day for the nation and its long journey towards recognising women as equally capable to men.
The dyslexic daughter of an electrical engineer and a hairstylist, raised on a Woking housing estate, is to be installed as the 106th Archbishop of Canterbury: the first woman to become the Church of England’s most senior bishop and the first among equals in the Anglican Communion.
Archbishop Sarah’s appointment was radical the moment it was announced, whatever comes next. It signals a shift away from what has always been, to what is possible.
Even before her installation, Archbishop Sarah Mullally has had to cope with a heckler at the service confirming her election, a vexatious abuse claim, and conservative rebels in the Anglican Communion renewing their efforts by forming a new Global Anglican Council.
This is a turning-point for many more people than just those who campaigned for women’s ordination. Women make up one-third of active clergy and that proportion is growing. Yet according to the campaign group Watch (Women and the Church), five per cent of churches (nearly 600) have passed “resolutions” to limit the things women can do, be that serving there as priest, preaching, or celebrating Communion.
Opponents of women’s ordination would say they’re not being sexist, they are just faithfully sticking to their understanding of Scripture and tradition. Yet even in parishes that don’t officially object, an ambivalence towards women clergy sometimes persists, and men end up with the more visible, prestigious roles.
When Mullally was made bishop of London in 2018, she said: “I am aware that as the first woman Bishop of London I am necessarily subversive — and it’s a necessity I intend to embrace.” When I met her in October, I pointed out her appointment to Canterbury was making waves and her eyes lit up as she replied, “I know.”
Any senior figure walking into an organisation knows they won’t be universally loved. And Archbishop Sarah of all people knows what she is taking on – that eight serving Church of England bishops and several hundred parishes don’t fully accept women’s ordination, let alone a woman’s authority as a bishop, and have special provision made for them. (The traditionalist group Forward in Faith has said it recognises Mullally “as the true and lawful holder” of the office of Archbishop of Canterbury, while continuing “to support the mutual flourishing of different Anglican traditions”. To say that navigating this will require the patience of a saint is an understatement.
Nonetheless, her appointment has been an encouragement to many people beyond the Church of England: some of the many extremely capable women in other Churches have noted this robed and mitred woman and said, “What about us? When will out gifts be recognised by our Church?” (Even discussing women’s ordination is tricky for Catholics after Pope, now St, John Paul II shut down the issue in 1994 when he wrote that the Catholic Church “has no authority whatsoever” to ordain women.)
And this isn’t only about churchgoers: the CofE reflects the nation’s story and the nation’s journey, even if only fewer than two per cent attend a service regularly. This is a big moment for the nation. Women over 21 have only had the vote for 98 years. We’ve only had women judges for 70 years. And while the Church is often criticised for being old-fashioned, when it comes to letting a woman take the helm, it beat the Civil Service by a month (congratulations to Dame Antonia Romeo, who took office in February), and both institutions remain ahead of the Labour Party and the armed forces. Meanwhile, the nursing profession is now under the leadership of its first male chief nurse, Duncan Burton. The make-up of England’s top table is changing.
Archbishop Sarah, who turns 64 on Thursday, said on BBC’s Songs of Praise earlier this month that her appointment was a big moment for young women to realise they can “be what they want to be”.
But not just for younger women, surely. What about those “women of a certain age”, as television presenter Gregg Wallace termed them, to his cost? Something happens between A-levels, at which girls usually outperform boys, and retirement, by which time men are out-earning and out-ranking women, especially those women who have taken time out to raise children.
The gender pay gap increases after about age 40, and among people in their 50s working full-time, it was about 12.5% last year, even before you factor in the lower hourly rates among the mainly women working part-time, according to the ONS. But why should they be nudged out of the picture? Archbishop Sarah is showing that women in their 60s have plenty to contribute.
Archbishop Sarah’s installation is also an encouragement for anyone who hasn’t emerged from the polished corridors of Oxford or Cambridge: she is the only the second archbishop since the fourteenth century not to have studied at either university. (The first since then was George Carey in the 1990s, and before him a chap called Simon Sudbury, who took on the top job after studying at the University of Paris.)
Mullally is also the first archbishop of Canterbury to have studied at a former poly, South Bank Polytechnic, and went into nursing. Only 0.05 per cent of UK adults graduate from Oxbridge, while ex-polys make up about half our universities. Among the Crown Nominations Commission that put her name forward, priorities were clearly being reassessed. Her predecessor, Justin Welby, was Eton- and Cambridge-educated – yet he resigned over safeguarding failures.
This appointment is also remarkable because of Archbishop Sarah’s very practical abilities. Squeezing training for the priesthood part-time around her role as Chief Nursing Officer and raising two children points to a woman who is highly capable. It also suggests she understands the plate-spinning and the worries about holding everything together that so many working parents live with.
However, comparisons with predecessors are inevitable. Some people will not be satisfied unless she is somehow more intellectual than Lord (Rowan) Williams and more polished than Welby (or the Revd Oil Welby, as Private Eye called him). She will not be conservative enough for the conservatives or progressive enough for the progressives. She brings her own skills and priorities, and they have been judged right for this moment.
They include clear delegating, which she practised in the vast diocese of London, and which will be vital if she is to effect any change in the labyrinthine CofE.
Many people who meet Sarah talk of her warmth and pastoral qualities, regardless of which issue they disagree with her on. These qualities, shown in sermons and speeches as well as conversations, will be well received at a time when we face increasing global and economic instability.
However, she will need vision and determination to steer a divided General Synod towards a solution to their disagreements over gay blessings, to ensure that strengthened safeguarding procedures are well thought through, and to persuade a government often ambivalent towards faith to value the congregations that all those midweek groups that hold the community together.
Archbishop Sarah’s installation isn’t just about one woman taking the top job of one institution; it is also a recognition that women regardless of age or background have so much to offer the workplace and society. Experience, people skills, judgement, resilience from years of plate-spinning, working with difference, navigating opposition – Archbishop Sarah has those qualities in spades. She will need them as she flings open the windows on the dusty, Old Boys-scented corridors of church politicking.
If after the six years before retirement she has prevented the Church – and the wider Anglican Communion – from fracturing, helped churches keep the lights on, and persuaded the Church’s factions to row in the same direction to catch the wind of the Quiet Revival, that will be a considerable victory. And maybe even one that nudges some of the “resolution” parishes to reflect on their views.
Perhaps other women will be inspired to be “necessarily subversive” and persevere in scaling other male-dominated heights. I don’t know how many women would have wanted her new job, but we can all be thankful to her for taking it on.
Photo: Archbishop Sarah Mullally. Credit: Lambeth Palace
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