Tag: church

Can the former chief nursing officer heal the fractured Church of England? 

Bishop Sarah Mullally’s appointment as the next Archbishop of Canterbury is ground-breaking but she inherits a fractured Church. What comes next?

Congratulations to the Rt Revd and Rt Hon Dame Sarah Mullally DBE, who has today been announced as the 106th archbishop of Canterbury and the first woman to occupy the role.  

Her move from just north of the river, as bishop of the diocese of London, is one of shortest distances on the episcopal chess-board. But she arrives at a desk where the in-tray overflows: divisions persisting around how far the Church should recognise gay relationships, ongoing factional point-scoring, and a long-term slow decline in the numbers of dedicated, generous members (bar a modest post-Covid bounceback). 

There is of course, good news; the Bible Society’s findings of a “quiet revival”, especially among young men, should gladden the heart of any church leader. The robust discussion around where the Church should allocate its finances has led to a hearty public defence of the humble parish and the system that has for centuries been the nation’s unofficial safety net. And the Church’s work to address racism and links to historic slavery is giving the Church more of a right to speak up when racism spills anew on to our streets or seeps back into our public discourse.  

As one of the first women bishops, Archbishop-designate Sarah is no stranger to moving into worlds dominated by men, by tradition, by Old School ways. This will surely serve her well. And women leaders are generally seen as more trustworthy when it comes to handling situations of abuse. 

Much has been made of the fact that several provinces in the Anglican Communion, over which she is now “first among equals”, do not recognise female leadership. Closer to home, the campaign group Watch, Women and the Church, say 1 in 12 bishops do not fully accept women as priests or church leaders. (Parishes that don’t are given “flying bishops”.) Today on Twitter/X the group added: “the Archbishop of Canterbury will not be able to celebrate communion in 439 churches – simply because she is a woman”. Meanwhile a statement from Forward in Faith welcomed her while noting that a 2014 agreement meant “provision for an assured sacramental ministry for traditional catholics would continue as before”, with “the consecration of Society bishops … undertaken exclusively by other Society bishops”. Is this a triumph of Anglican “living with difference” or a failure of unity?

I’m also interested in how her first meeting with Pope Leo XIV will go. Her predecessor Justin Welby got on famously with Leo’s predecessor, Francis, who referred to him as “brother Justin”. Catholics who long to see women ordained in the Catholic Church, or at least given more space to use their gifts in the Church, will be watching closely. It calls to mind the photo of Queen Elizabeth II giving the Saudi King Abdullah a spin in her Landrover at a time when women in his country were not permitted to drive. (I’m not equating the Catholic Church with the Saudi kingdom, though 11 years after his eye-opening ride, women’s capabilities were recognised and the ban lifted.)

As for the Church’s need to prove its integrity on dealing with abuse victims with the utmost seriousness, what is needed? A clean sweep, a new broom? Clearing away cobwebs? I’m wanting a metaphor that points to the new archbishop signalling a decisive and much-needed clean start in all sorts of areas where cobwebs lurk.

At 37, Mullally became the youngest chief nursing officer in England. Now she is to become the most senior bishop in the Church of England. Anglicanism’s other famous nurse, Florence Nightingale, would be thrilled. She is quoted as saying, “I attribute my success to this – I never gave or took any excuse.” That could be a good medicine for a Church that suffers from periodic lethargy. 

It’s too easy and almost too hackneyed to do down the Church of England, with its deep divisions and widening differences. But the nation’s not in great shape either. That means there’s plenty of space for Archbishop-designate Sarah to articulate a renewed vision of the nation, one that is hopeful, compassionate, just, wise and varied, but united around common goals.

Photo: Archbishop of Canterbury-designate Sarah Mullally. Credit: Lambeth Palace

Boris Johnson is on to something – the obesity crisis could point to a deeper malaise

Boris Johnson wishes religious leaders would address the “aching spiritual void in people’s lives”. He makes a good point

It was one of the most intriguing headlines I had seen in years: “Boris Johnson blames the Church of England for obesity crisis”. Of all the shortcomings our rotund former PM could pin on the Church, that was not one I had expected.

He had recorded his comments for the National Food Survey, an independent review by the Government, before the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, announced two weeks ago that he was stepping down, taking “personal and institutional responsibility” for safeguarding failings.

Welby’s move has prompted a good deal of raking over personal and institutional failings, much of which has circled around the undeniable reality of declining church attendance.

What is up with people that they plainly are seeking solace in something that they know is self-destructive?

Academics have tried to understand this numerical trend of the last 50 years or so, and pointed to, among others, a desire for greater sexual freedoms, the end of deference culture, clergy failing to keep up with social change, and people having more disposable income and greater expectations of individualism.

However, Johnson made an astute point about “what is obviously an aching spiritual void in people’s lives, that drives them to gorge themselves”. “Religious leaders, as well as politicians, they think, ‘what is up with people that they plainly are seeking solace in something that they know is self-destructive’. And when did you last hear the Archbishop of Canterbury preach a sermon about that?”  

And as if to bear it out, this week also heard about Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer’s plans to help people on long-term benefits back into work.

According to the white paper in which the plans were outlined, a record 2.8 million people are out of work due to long-term sickness, and “economic inactivity is higher in some coastal and ex-industrial communities”. The paper proposes expanding access to mental health and musculoskeletal services, and tackling obesity. Analysis by The Times found that “the problems are concentrated in the poorer, ‘left behind’ places that successive governments have failed to level up, where obesity, inactivity, addiction, depression and hopelessness caused by lack of opportunity can become a mutually reinforcing spiral … Some 69 per cent of those claiming incapacity benefits cite mental health conditions and 47 per cent cite musculoskeletal problems, with the average claimant having 2.7 illnesses which often interact with each other.”

“Work is a necessity, part of the meaning of life on this earth, a path to growth, human development and personal fulfilment”

Pope Francis

What if some of these problems point to, to quote Johnson, a spiritual void? One that is also not filled by over-eating, substance misuse and inactivity? Many poorer areas are post-industrial, ie where mining or manufacturing, which used to provide the economic foundations of those communities, have departed for cheaper climes, leaving the old workforce without a job, without alocal work stream, and without the community and way of life that grew up around it. The white paper stresses that there is work to be done – as they immigration stats bear out – but new forms of work have been slow to fill the gaps that were left, or have appeared in different areas, or may not offer the same level of community or, in its stead, fulfilment.

Why would this count as a spiritual void? Because as the Work and Pensions Secretary, Liz Kendall MP, acknowledged in the white paper, work itself can provide “dignity and purpose”, and people of faith would argue that dignity is God-given. The so-called Protestant work ethic puts a positive moral value on doing a job well, and the place of dignified work is important in Catholic Social Teaching. Pope Francis has said: “Work is a necessity, part of the meaning of life on this earth, a path to growth, human development and personal fulfilment. Helping the poor financially must always be a provisional solution in the face of pressing needs. The broader objective should always be to allow them a dignified life through work.”

Material help, in the form of cash benefits, can meet material needs. However, any initiative that offers the person who is long-term sick counselling and physiotherapy could make only temporary progress if the reason for their depression and back trouble is exacerbated by not having meaningful work and a meaningful community life to get out of bed for.

It is rare to find a preacher talk about eating disorders, body image and self-destructive behaviour in a way that is not glib

Perhaps what Johnson was alluding to was that it shouldn’t be the duty of government to preach hope, and that is what he believes is the task of Churches. Johnson has a lengthy relationship with Church. The twice-divorced father of nine (or thereabouts) children was baptised Catholic, confirmed Anglican and married his current wife, Carrie, at Westminster Cathedral. Around a decade earlier, while he was mayor of London, I heard Johnson addressing an interfaith group of community leaders with a fond and clear recollection of a Sunday School lesson. It concerned the achievements of Rahab the prostitute but had some relevance for 2010s London that was something to do with faith without deeds being dead (look up James 2). More recently, Johnson described himself as a “very, very bad Christian,” but judging by his comments to the food survey, in this instance he could be commended as a refreshingly honest and thoughtful one. 

A few points then: when one of the main sources of employment for a town shuts, a viable replacement or replacements need to be available, or a kind of social depression will follow, that can take decades to recover from. Expectations of work that provides meaning – and enjoyment – have grown in the social media age, not always in ways that have matched the jobs and salaries that are on offer.

Historically, religious industrialists such as the Quakers were motivated by a holistic vision for society to open factories and look after the needs – including the spiritual needs – of their employees (albeit in a way we might regard as paternalistic). These days we expect business to step in, but there may be scope for partnerships forged between business, the state and the third sector. The government’s plans draw in employers such as the Premier League, Channel 4 and the Royal Shakespeare Company may inspire young job-seekers, though it is to be hoped that enough jobs in these competitive sectors can be found.

Second, Johnson clearly expects church-going to nurture the soul, and I hear his comments as a plea for churches to be more emotionally literate. It is rare to find a preacher who will talk about eating disorders, body image and self-destructive behaviour and link them in a way that is not glib to the way that a relationship with God can come to fill the spiritual void. The church I attended as a student did just that, and as a result attracted many people who found considerable healing there.

Finally, if Johnson has felt frustrated by a lack of spiritual content in newsworthy comments made by an archbishop, a better way to find out whether the Church is preaching its message of hope is perhaps not to tune into HQ but to pop into the local branch.