by David Brown
David Brown writes about a frequently missing ingredient in Church life, especially within its disciplinary processes
45 years ago, I served an Admiral within his staff of about 30. He was commanding a group of warships deploying round the globe, exercising with eleven foreign navies as we went. I learned something important from watching him at close quarters which may surprise you: his unconscious demonstration of the power of love. One-to-one, he treated subordinates as friends, regardless of rank – getting to know them, listening to what they had to say and sharing in their humour. In no sense was he a popularity-seeker; this was surely an outcome, but never an aim.
Unsurprisingly, we all loved working for him. We ‘worked our socks off’ for him. He never raised his voice, and when some rebuke was needed, a raised eyebrow was generally enough. Under his kindly rule, we found an unusual satisfaction in working with our colleagues and subordinates. Long-term friendships formed, and I still relish biennial reunions. I sense he was a man of faith.
This helps me understand the immense power of love we find in Jesus – a power to draw together, opening the gateway of faith. Delving into the nature of God’s character is instructive, for the love God draws us into is nothing less than radical.
For love is not a technique or method, it is at the heart of God’s revelation. It opens our eyes to who God is, His nature, how He views His world, the shape of His intentions and how He works. Yet love is meaningless in a vacuum. God offers love to every person and can reveal it to anyone – even the antagonistic – we simply need to receive it. It is contagious. God’s mission to make the loveless lovely is described beautifully. His love-flow is directed into those who have never experienced His love, to make them lovely. A miracle.
All these things have come to mind as I ponder the Church’s attempts to replace the Clergy Discipline Measure. The church seems to be drawn more and more into a sterile burdensome bureaucracy — at the expense of relational pastoral care. Whilst the New Testament is mercifully free of emphasis on procedures and process, the subsequent millennia have seen a gradual replacement of Grace by Law. And now, bishops risk being stripped incrementally of their Ordinal role to embrace discipline, not discipleship, as a component of “pastoral care.”
Delegation of effective pastoral care to others may work for lesser issues, but a process that may strip priests of their ministry, livelihood, and future, self-evidently requires the closest episcopal understanding and involvement. If bishops cannot deal redemptively with such tasks, they should not be bishops. Our ‘front-line’ clergy, for whom the episcopacy is there to serve and enable, become the victims if discipline is irregular and inadequately overseen. Effective parish ministry should be the primary goal in a bishop’s oversight. It is, after all, a shared “cure of souls.” They should spend much time in this direction. If they cannot deliver oversight here, they have no significant function, and the Church will drift and wither.
In current practice, it seems the apostolic model has shifted in many places from enabler of effective relationally based pastoral care to initiator of clergy discipline by which is now meant punishment, with severe consequences.
The ‘elephant in the room’ is surely that relational shortfall in which the Church now finds itself: the loss of genuine caring episcopal contact with parish clergy, which should enable and encourage parochial ministry. This has resulted in a lack of trust in senior clergy. Indeed, I hear it said that some, if faced with parish trouble, would never approach senior clergy because of the risk of it being turned against them.
In the 10 years that I chaired the PCC of our small parish there were five visits from an area bishop or archdeacon. Each occasion felt a little like an Ofsted inspection. There was scant benefit, except maybe for the ‘inspectors’. A managerial culture – inherited, unnoticed and unchallenged – has replaced episcopal pastoral care. I suggest some church-life traits that have caused this and act to hinder relational development across the Church:
- Lack of real pastoral contact with clergy – senior clergy seldom seem to prioritise this.
- Mission Action Plans. The idea of planning is surprisingly absent from New Testament accounts. There was no sign at all of the apostles planning missions. Earlier, it was the Pharisee Gamaliel who spoke truth on the matter to Jerusalem power: “If this plan or this undertaking is of man, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them. (Acts 5.38,39)”
- Measures of Church growth. Do church leaders ever ponder the reason behind God’s Old Testament strictures against census-taking? Should we rather be looking for faith development and growth in discipleship not numbers? It is Kingdom Growth that matters.
- Notions of effective ministry as being harmonious. Would Paul’s ministry be regarded as successful today, based on peace being established in communities? Jesus did not promise peace but a sword. The measure of effective ministry is transformed lives and communities not necessarily comfortable existence.
- ‘Religious atheism’ – those who present themselves as godly but are not (as described in 2 Tim 3:2-5), such people infect churches and local ministry but often successfully ingratiate themselves with senior clergy.
- Clericalisation – which disables the laity. We seem to have a long history of expecting God’s wisdom and initiatives to be channelled solely through human hierarchies.
- Diocesan and national ‘honours and awards’. God alone knows the hearts of men and women; whose rewards are in heaven. The Church seems to reward those who uphold the status quo rather than those who comfort the comfortless and disturb the comfortable.
Lastly, referring to so-called Clergy Discipline issues, I suggest the following are key points to be at the heart of the renewal of this matter, recognising that nurturing pastoral relationships are at the heart of effective witness and service of a loving redemptive God:
- Any lack of trust between leaders and led is a significant underlying problem.
- Law does not change people, relationships do.
- Procedures and processes have no power to bless.
The power of strong mutual relationship offers the route to durable solutions. This enables a dependence on God who reveals His loving purposes and opens doors to redemptive transformation.
The bishop who confirmed me, Henry Montgomery Campbell, then Bishop of Guildford, later Bishop of London, is quoted as saying of himself “one who is no figure in public life and no scholar, but simply and solely a Father in God who goes round the parishes visiting the chaps – the only thing I am any good at”.
In my experience it would help if at the outset of every CDM the failing(s) of episcopacy involved and what the episcopate could have done to prevent it were specifically identified to the senior clergy by the junior clergy and laity affected.
I would be intrigued to know who that admiral was. Treacher, Troup, Tait and Morton spring to mind (there was a massive cull of ‘starred’ officers in 1976-78, though).
In the middle ages bishops spent at least part of the year in London, and when they were resident in their dioceses, they would shift from manor to manor with their own chancery. It was relatively unlikely for a bishop to dart from parish to parish, especially in some of the really big dioceses like York, Lincoln, St David’s or Coventry & Lichfield. Some bishops were resident in their dioceses, but only in a really impractical manner: for example John Longland (bishop of Lincoln, 1521-47) lived at Wooburn, Buckinghamshire, between Great Marlow and Taplow on the banks of the Thames, which was no pastoral help to someone based in Barton-upon-Humber.
After the Reformation, parliaments tended to meet even more frequently, and bishops spent more time in London. At least until the middle of the nineteenth century this remained the norm, unless a bishop was seriously inform. Some bishops were effectively non-resident as their sees were so poor they had to have preferment elsewhere. It was only the advent of the railways which enabled bishops to get about their own dioceses with much regularity. Some bishops – Lord William Cecil of Exeter or Hubert Burge of Southwark – were especially assiduous in this respect.
There was therefore a relatively brief moment – between the 1850s (say) and 1950s when healthy bishops could act as effective diocesans, with no administrative support bar a chaplain and one or two secretaries. This was also a time when there were many more incumbents than there are now.
Latterly bishops have become enveloped in a bureaucratic carapace; subordinates have begat additional subordinates in the style of Parkinson’s Law. Administration is vastly more complex, and has increased in inverse proportion to attendance and manpower on the ground (safeguarding has been a big factor in this, which is a further argument for centralising it). Yet communications are very much easier than they were.
I get the impression that many diocesan bishops simply don’t know their own dioceses and clergy that well. There is no excuse for this. It should be possible to visit every single parish (not just benefice) without exception within a year or two of taking office. I am glad that Mr Wateridge has quoted H. M. Campbell (the quote is in his Times obit of 28 December 1970). That obit also states: “He was an utterly devoted person: devoted to God; devoted to his work, to his family and his friends…He never spared himself and he expected a high degree of self-discipline and devotion on the part of those who worked for him. Someone said of him: “He knows more of the London Clergy than they know themselves”. It was the people that he cared for; administration was only to be tolerated as a necessary means of…making that work more effective. “. Quite.
Excellent quotes on HM Campbell! The Admiral I mentioned was John Fieldhouse, aka Admiral of the Fleet the Lord Fieldhouse of Gosport who became Chief of the Defence Staff. He was then accepted for the top NATO post—Chair of the NATO Military Committee in Brussels., but sadly his health prevented it and he died not long after. On one occasion I heard of an effective Chaplain in an overseas base being threatened with sacking by his admiral. I mentioned it to JF who looked into it. The Chaplain never heard another thing!
Many thanks for that, and for your piece, Mr Brown! I assume that you were also a submariner. It is a shame that the materials for John Coote’s biography of Lord Fieldhouse were never completed or published, as F. was as adept in waging battles within Whitehall, as a ‘desk driver’, as against Argentina (albeit from Northwood). His relatively early death, at 64, might have been attributable to his convivial liking of food and drink: as a first lieutenant he had been known as ‘snorkers’, on account of his weakness for sausages. There was a well-known exchange between him and Mrs Thatcher at the outset of ‘Operation Corporate’:
“MT: Can we win?
JF: If we don’t, you’ll be looking for a new C-in-C.
MT: And you’ll be looking for a new prime minister.”
And yet he was a man who was on first name terms with the staff of his local supermarket, and preferred a packed lunch in the Twickenham car park with friends than corporate wining and dining.
Apparently H. M. Campbell died from complications from a broken hip sustained during a blackout caused by strike action. In various reflections following his death he was commended for his ‘pawky humour’, and one anonymous commentator remarked:
“…it should be recorded that, inseparable from the stories that he told, was the manner of their telling – deprecating, yet masterful, rueful, yet alive with relish. Another characteristic treasured by the clergy was his way of commenting by means of a negative. Effusive thanks from other guests paled into insignificance when, at the end of a party, the Bishop confirmed his approval by saying simply: “This sort of thing does no harm.” His formidable figure could be wrapped in a formidable silence on social occasions, and this might at first daunt the clergy family who entertained him to a meal. But when the glint of humour, of kindliness, of real concern eventually showed itself, how much the more was it appreciated, and how much his visits and his whole ministry came to be truly prized.”
I cite this, because I recall the story of a suffragan bishop in the south-west of England who would go around telling all of his clergy that they were doing a wonderful job, how special or amazing they were, etc. Naturally, these clergy eventually came to exchange boastful notes only to discover, to their dismay, that he had been saying the same thing to everyone – even despised colleagues. Clergy, I suppose, suffer from the same amour-propre as anyone else, and it is best not to offend it. The currency of praise is susceptible to rapid devaluation, and the local reputation of that bishop started to subside from that point.
My Bishop is supposed to be my Bishop, too. And what happens if I have a problem? Far too busy being pastoral to the clergy to bother about me. Not incidentally, I’ve no idea if my actual Bishop would behave like this! But this blog is partly about clergy being supported when lay people need help.
When lay people need help. Indeed, I wonder what it takes to get a bishop to respond to several complaints about a pastoral decision (made by the vicar and supported by the PCC) that has bad consequences for the rest of the congregation whose views are treated as irrelevant. Are PCC members allowed to ignore concerns from other worshippers?
The Bishop’s words present 2 immediate divisions
– the “chaps” Who might they be?
– “Father in God” Didnt someone once say “call no man Father”
I’m sure the Bishop was a worthy man but his language isn’t that of the ordinary people.
Bp. Montgomery Campbell lived from 1887-1970, so his language wouldn’t have sounded so dated when he made the remark. The ‘chaps’ would have been his clergy – all men of course at that date, and many of them presumably war veterans. Hence the ‘chaps’.
Not perhaps by the standards of the time but exclusively a middle class way of speaking that beliefs a particular attitude. It’s still around today in many churches from the extremes of FiF and Iwerne.
I’m disappointed that you have made these observations. Janet has answered before I could. You simply cannot expect a bishop born in the reign of Victoria to use the language of the 21st century. The other, independent, comments quoted by Froghole give a perspective of what his contemporaries felt about him. As it so happens, as a small boy I witnessed Montgomery Campbell arriving at the Rectory of the village where I lived. He was carrying a huge flat case, doubtless containing his full pontificals, including cope and mitre. He was wearing gaiters and I guess this was late 1940s or very early 1950s. It’s all a matter of context. There are no connotations to ‘chaps’, military or otherwise; it was in common parlance in those days but, as Janet says, the bishop was clearly referring to his parish clergy.
Sorry, a necessary PS. Janet didn’t deal with “Father in God”. This isn’t a term of self-aggrandisement by the bishop. It’s the language of the BCP for a bishop and specifically used in the context of Confirmation.
I have to admit I don’t like the term, and I’m glad it’s not so much used nowadays. But Montgomery Campbell can hardly be blamed for using a term in common currency in his own day.
It’s also unscriptural. Matthew 23.9 (alluded to by Steve Robinson in his comment at 2.39 pm): “And do not call anyone on earth ‘father’, for you have one Father, and he is in heaven.” (Jesus, telling the crowds not to do what the teachers of the law and the Pharisees did, “for they do not practise what they preach.”)
I don’t want to labour the point, still less engage in scriptural interpretation questions, but the term ‘Father in God’ has been carried forward from the BCP into the Common Worship ordination services. Those are the exact words addressed to the presiding bishop at the presentation of the ordinand, and therefore in current use in the Church of England liturgy.
Perhaps we can allow that Henry Montgomery Campbell used the term in the way that he did. I recall it from my own confirmation by him, BCP, of course, in those days.
David I am so relieved to read someone talking about love. This absolutely should be at the heart of our ministry, mission & safeguarding. Our research with survivors – of all faiths & none – was that they came to the church for care & compassion. My research with young people ( some years ago now) found the same.
This is the conversation we need to have as the CDM reforms & IICSA recommendations are developed. How to do this with love?
I do think that principles, processes & laws are also important. They protect the vulnerable. As an advocate, they are the tools that help me to hold people to account when people’s rights or lives are abused.
But surely the church can do this in a restorative way, with love at the heart?
Sadly events of recent days show there is a way to go.
Thank you Jane for your encouraging response. I was less than clear, I think. Law,
procedures and processes are essential, providing a a necessary framework–but without love, they add up to little. In my understanding, divine love provides divine energy and power to bless beyong human imagining, .
Thank you David, sorry if I misunderstood you.
Totally agree about divine love.
In case you or any other followers are interested, I hope Stephen won’t mind me mentioning Survivors Voices have just published the first in a series of papers we are planning asking, what might a trauma-informed, survivor-friendly theology look like? Looking at Restorative Justice, you can download it free from the Projects page of our website. We’re holding a round table discussion on 24th Feb, all are welcome, you can book on the Events page of the website.
One of our motivations for doing this is just what you write about – centring God and biblical principles at the heart of our safeguarding.
Brilliant article. Thanks!
Thank you, David. I so much appreciate what you have written!
Thank you David, I found this so helpful – the responses too, especially on your article’s focus on love (Jane’s).
I found the article moving, and instructive as it had me looking up First Corinthians 13 and St Paul’s description of love in verses 4-7. I always thought of these as a blueprint for – the invisible ingredient in – all that’s ‘beautiful and useful’ in life. I still see it that way, but with everything I’ve read in this blog, and this piece in particular, it seems vv 4-7 are really practical and to the point – oil for the machinery of our processes and frameworks to ensure they don’t seize up and destroy life but protect and provide for it.
Reading them again they seem to me a down-to-earth portrait of humanity, where – positioned centrally within the cosmic imagery of Divine love (“for now we see through a glass, darkly” as the KJV says) – such ‘everyday’ qualities and attitudes of patience, kindness and rejoicing in the truth contend with the shadows we bear (viz. arrogance, rudeness, the desire to control, irritability, resentfulness, spite etc). Bearing in mind ideas about truth today, I hope I haven’t got things wrong here – but either way I’m really struck by vv 6&7, at the centre of the chapter, translated (NIV) as “love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” A message for today?
(I’ve followed this blog over the years and found it a great help, hoping I can join in comments occasionally and this one isn’t too late.)
Hi, Eleanor. Nice to see you here. And of course, welcome.
That’s great, thanks English Athena
“Do not entertain an accusation against an elder unless it is brought by two or three witnesses.” We would do well to heed Paul’s advice (1 Tim 5:19).
That’s often impossible with abuse and rape though, David. No witnesses. That’s the problem. I know what you mean, but ain’t that easy 😞
Or anyone else! When there’s a counter accusation, like, you’re making up horrible stories about them. And that is instantly believed.