• Scottish Episcopal Conversations about LGBT Issues

    This time next week, the “Cascade Conversations” will be taking place in Pitlochry. This is an attempt to allow discussion in the Scottish Episcopal Church about issues relating to homosexuality.

    I won’t be there because I’ve not been invited and I’m sorry about that as I would have liked to listen to what others were saying. Invitations were entirely at the whim of diocesan bishops and my own has chosen not to invite me.

    The idea is that this conversation will cascade into dioceses but how that will happen is far from clear.

    In many ways this process has been a model example of how not to do things. There was no-one who was gay on the initial scoping group. There have been several people who have represented anti-gay organisations on the design group but none who have been prominent members of LGBT advocacy groups in the church.

    My more fundamental concern though is the idea of having a closed conference at which many people who would like to be there are excluded. It is, as someone with a lot of experience of living in Africa pointed out to me the other day, the very opposite of indaba – the idea that you get everyone together and talk until you find a solution.

    The last time we had a process like this in the church where bishops chose people to go to a conference it was all about patterns of ministry and mission. It was a hugely successful conference for those who were invited by the bishops but a disaster for the church as the resentments which built up amongst those who were not invited were significant. Were a psychological study to be made of the troubles of the Theological Institute of the Scottish Episcopal Church then that conference would be a significant point to remember as a time when some felt they had a mandate for a certain trajectory which was not shared by the rest of the church.

    One of the things which I observe in many Anglican Churches is the odd reality that decisions about homosexuality seem to be made in private by bishops (and their chosen advisers). It is very odd behaviour in churches with synodical government. After all, when we decided big things about the ordination of women as priests and bishops it was the General Synod which made the decisions.

    General Synod has at least some transparency about it. There is defined process and you know who will be there to represent you. Despite asking my bishop a month or so ago, I still don’t know who is representing this diocese at the Pitlochry talks. Bishop Gregor simply refused point-blank to tell me.

    At our diocesan synod, questions were asked by a couple of us about whether this was a safe process for anyone who is gay. One of the things that many people don’t understand is that straight people and gay people don’t meet as equals within church processes. To put it bluntly, revealing things about your life, your relationships and your hopes at these events if you are straight makes no difference to how you will be treated in the future by people who have power within decision-making processes about jobs, housing, pensions etc. For gay people that just isn’t true. Revealing personal material about yourself could cost you a job, could bring trouble for your partner, could lead to you losing your home.

    Now, when asked about this at our synod, Bishop Gregor gave a good answer for himself but a terrible answer for the current process. He said that if someone who happens to be gay or lesbian revealed anything about themselves then he would admire their honesty and integrity and was very clear that they would not be treated in a detrimental way in this diocese. That was absolutely the right thing to say. However, he then went on to say that of course, he could not give the same guarantee on behalf of anyone else in the church and particularly could not guarantee that bishops in other dioceses would take the same view.

    That crucial admission marks this out as a very unsafe process for gay people in the church. My recommendation to any gay or lesbian ordinand, lay-reader, deacon, priest or bishop or anyone in any of the new less clearly defined lay ministries who is involved in these talks would be that they should be very cautious about talking about their own lives. This isn’t a safe process and one might suffer in the future for being honest.

    That is, if there is anyone gay who has been invited.

9 responses to “Turning Up and Being Counted”

  1. Lesley-Ann craddock Avatar
    Lesley-Ann craddock

    Thank you Kelvin
    What a read, I really enjoyed it, all of it. You have touched on the 3 things that I too have been wrestling with.
    Liturgy , turning up to be counted, and being open and real with our peers and counterparts.
    Hmmm I wonder if those aspects of being church in this post pandemic implosion of society will somehow be a catalyst to become braver clergy and have proper discussions about what matters to Gods church in its own context. Can we be diverse and not divided, can we lock into our heritage and yet be able to change too. Can Branson pickle save us. X

  2. Christine McIntosh Avatar
    Christine McIntosh

    Great stuff, Kelvin!

  3. Robert MacDonald Avatar
    Robert MacDonald

    Good points well made. We find some church members, who organise a community lunch on a Wednesday, then regularly say ‘we won’t make it on Sunday’. Seems the wrong way round – attendance on a Sunday should come first.

  4. Peggy Brewer Avatar
    Peggy Brewer

    Reading this made my day and contributes to my celebration of the season! Thank you!

  5. Calum Wyllie Avatar
    Calum Wyllie

    Reading this, I feel like it could have been written about me. I couldn’t have been more deeply involved with my church (felt deeply rooted in the weekly liturgy, sat on the PCC, led on diversity and inclusion, set up online streaming for the first time during lockdown), yet I haven’t been back in two years. There is definitely an element of that link of continuity having been broken, and it’s up to me to make the effort to reforge it again. But the anger is also real, and hard to pin down. When somewhere no longer feels like home, when you feel excluded (even when that person was responsible for leading on inclusion!), how do you find the courage to return? When the link with spirituality feels more present in other places (even when I used to absolutely value liturgy, the Eucharist, the community), how do you find a way forward? Too much thinking, and not enough getting on and doing, perhaps…

  6. Meg Rosenfeld Avatar
    Meg Rosenfeld

    Wow–this article is not only thought-provoking, and, to someone who’s a church-goer, extremely easy to identify with, but also entertaining and therefore all the more memorable. As one whose parish church (in San Francisco’s notorious Haight Ashbury neighborhood) nowadays gets about 15 people in the congregation on a “good” day, I do often wonder whether we’re ever going to bounce back from this expletive-deleted pandemic. Personally, I have no choice: I am, on the aforementioned good day, 50% of the alto section, and on other days, 100% thereof. All you folks out there don’t know what you’re missing–except, of course, those of you who are watching on your home computers.

  7. Father Ron Smith Avatar

    Well said, Kelvin Perhaps we clergy don’t stress enough the fact that the Host at our worship is not the clergy, but the Incarnate Son of God; who empowers us to the extent that we are willing to be empowered for daily life and work. I still think of that lovely phrase “Turn towards HIM and be radiant”. What a thrill!

  8. Kennedy fraser Avatar
    Kennedy fraser

    Yes,I still wonder if we have counted all those spiritual communions

  9. John Davies Avatar
    John Davies

    My church (suburban, evangelical Anglican in Birmingham, UK) took a long time to really recover from the lockdown and subsequent fears, but seems to be close to its pre-shutdown numbers again. What my wife and I noticed was that for quite some time the congregation was largely made up of its elderly members – ie those who are not perhaps so nifty with the electronic gadgetry of our age and, also, those who most wanted company. Younger families took a lot longer to return, but are now coming out of the woodwork again.
    One interesting point is that my old church reported a big increase in deaf people watching their zoom or youtube services, because one of the congregation provided signage at the front. Their new found audience felt greatly enabled to join in when they may otherwise never have done so. Is this something worth thinking more about?

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