One of the main themes emerging from this year’s Scottish General Synod was the issue of inclusion. I’ve mentioned before the phenomena of getting just about any group of Scottish Episcopalians together and asking them what our church is about. The answers are always the same – good worship and being an inclusive church. (Interestingly, no-one ever defines us as having anything much to do with having bishops. I remember one provincial conference where I’m sure everyone would have voted to change the name to the Scottish Inclusive Church if such a thing could have been proposed).
And all this came up again last week. In the long debate about mission and in other parts of the synod, the ethos of the Scottish Episcopal Church was claimed to be being an inclusive church. I’ve long had a suspicion that part of this is that Episcopalians in Scotland are all a bit odd in one way or another and when we say we are an inclusive church, part of what we mean is, “Thank God, I’ve found a church that welcomes me. There is no-where else to go”.
Anyway, on and on it went. “We are an inclusive church” sayeth the crowd.
Yet I’ve come to the conclusion that this is aspirational talk rather than something that we have already achieved. Some of the most interesting things said at the synod were when people said things that suggested that perhaps the church was not quite yet as inclusive as they would like it to be.
Marion Chatterley got us to agree to a gender audit.
Analu Waller reminded us that cutting grants for buildings could mean cutting support for access for disabled people. She also challenged us to go back to our congregations and count the disabled people there and then ask whether we are really an inclusive church.
Ian Ferguson from the big evangelical congregation Trinity Westhill in Aberdeenshire said, “Inclusion is not just about the gay commmunity”. (And everyone nodded along).
I said that the bishops’ current policy on gay blessings and ministry was not something we could all support. (The bishops are directly stating that they are discriminating against gay people for the first time in our history).
And then there was the Faith and Order Board saying that inclusive language amendments to the liturgy would do tucked into the back of the book as an appendix of permitted texts. It was me again, who reminded them that the liturgy committee has been trying to get us to think of liturgy as formative for faith and that making inclusive language merely optional was not really the kind of thing that lots of us are hoping for.
All these things were comments from people complaining that we are not inclusive enough for them. Yet still we say (and indeed our new Primus seemed to reiterate), “We are an inclusive church”. It is a distinct theme and one which needs a bit of thought throughout the church.
What’s the most important next step?
Amen to that. I have been saying for ages, in committees and on the I&C Board I seem to recall, that we can’t put the word ‘inclusive’ in our mission statements because we’re not, for the very reasons you state. And I’m not sure that they all really do want to be inclusive or we wouldn’t be in the mess we’re in. It makes my blood boil!
It is a good aspiration though Ruth. I think that it really is the journey that most of us want to travel. The question is, how to we write that narrative into the way we work.
And the question remains, what is the next step on the road.
(Oh, and by the way, the one bit of exclusive language which I heard at synod which got my gander up was: “behind every good man is a good woman”. Sexist and homophobic and singletonphobic all in one.)
I still get stuck with the recursive-liberal’s dilemma. How does one go about including people who are of non-inclusive inclination themselves?
Good question, Tim, but I don’t think it is impossible.
I think that you say things like, “You are welcome if you allow others to freely express their own experience of God alongside you.”
Or, “I want to learn from your experience but can only do so if we agree that you are not allowed to do me harm.”
Or, “Your gift of collegiality is difficult for us to benefit from, whilst you are discriminating against your brothers and sisters. Let us talk more about this….”.
“behind every good man is a good woman”. Yes, that made me cringe too, even though I am the beneficiary of just that kind of support.
While being ‘inclusive’ is an essential aspiration or description – don’t knock the latter, I have heard a certain church in Edinburgh described as ‘the only church where I feel welcome’ – isn’t it a secondary order statement?
It is surely better and more honest to say ‘We are a Christian church, a Trinitarian church, an orthodox Chalcedonian church….. and therefore we are inclusive.’ This is what our liturgy says, and the inclusiveness is what our liturgy implies. We shouldn’t let the social conservatives monopolise the label ‘orthodox’.
Thanks for your comment Steve. I agree, but that does mean that we have to work hard to make sure that the liturgy really is inclusive.
I particularly agree that we shouldn’t let the social conservatives monopolise the label ‘orthodox’.
I think this is very important and yes, if we’re going to be aspirational, discussions about what comes next and how to bring inclusiveness to full expression are necessary. For me, liturgical language is crucial, as it goes to the very heart of who we are and what we do. I’m intrigued to here of ‘optional’ inclusive language liturgies. Are such things in existence already, or is this a potential future thing?
Not that lots of other things aren’t also crucial as well!