When we want to describe a group of people who agree with each other, whether it be in a political or religious context, we can use positive or negative words to describe that agreement.  Among the positive words are ones like harmony, unanimity, or consensus.  The negative words include groupthink or collusion.  The word we choose to use in the context of people agreeing with one other indicates what we think about the agreement.  Sometimes agreement seems positive while, on other occasions, we suspect some political chicanery.  Deep problems are being buried under the surface of pleasing words.  But whether seen as negative or positive, getting people to come to any kind of common mind can be extremely arduous work.  It can take hours of discussion and some of this may be heated and unpleasant.  Sometimes the agreements that are reached come about because one side gives way to exhaustion from the fight.  Clearly, even when a common statement has been reached, the agreement that is presented to the world does not necessarily denote underlying peace and unanimity.

When we think about our own lives, we may be able to remember when we first began to have opinions about things.  If we had wise parents we would be asked for those opinions, even if the subject matter was relatively trivial.  A six-year-old may well be invited by the family to articulate a favourite food or a preference for a holiday destination.  Many of these opinions probably reflected the parents’ own choices but the task of listening to the child is an important part of family nurture.  True independent thinking has to wait for a later development stage.

If small children find it hard or impossible to have different opinions from their parents and the rest of the family, the same is also true when they join other social groups at school or in other settings.  A young child, boy or girl. Is desperate to belong and will go along with the thoughts and behaviour of a group, however perverse, in order to stay within it.  The common mind we have with others is likely to be a form of groupthink. Standing completely apart from the actions and opinions of others is very hard to do.   We could go so far as to say that for most of our younger years we are ‘groomed’ by our groups and the company we keep to go along with the crowd and that is something that goes on right up into adulthood.   Standing up for our unique convictions when everyone around you is thinking and acting in a predictable and identical way, is very hard to do.  Most of us, as young people, fail in this testing of our principles except in fairly unusual circumstances.

Once we become fully adult, theoretically we have the opportunity to find out who we truly are and what our personal convictions consist of.  Adults are those who are supposed to be fully responsible for their judgements, actions and opinions.  We know for ourselves this is not always the case.  The tentacles of outside persuasive forces continue to affect us from many directions. There are several possible reasons to make us susceptible to such influences.  It may be a loyalty to an institution that holds us back from our desired mature independence.  It may also be the legacy of a troubled childhood that keeps part of our functioning immature.  There may be a continuing childish desire always to please others, and this may override a more mature way of dealing with people. There are quite simply a host of ways that can undermine straightforward grown-up existence which counts as independent maturity.  We all must struggle with these different forces that may affect and weaken the much-desired mature independence to which we aspire.  We might even find ourselves accepting the proposition that, for much of the time, our words and actions owe more to others than to our own core self.

When we view the Church and particularly those who work within it as its officers and leaders, there are particular problems to be noted. Reflecting on my own past as a clergyman in the Church of England, I recall one particular tension that always existed.  Within the context of pastoral relationships, there is often a tension between the desire to be ‘nice’ and the need to challenge.   Although in the CofE the payment of the following month’s salary does not depend on preaching agreeable sermons, there were still pressures that could be brought to bear on me when the content of sermons deviated away from a notion of ‘orthodoxy’ held by prominent supporters. There are also expectations of pastoral care which could run counter to the convictions of the parish priest.  Finding the right path between doing what was popular and what was the true conviction of the leader is always difficult to achieve.  Fortunate indeed is the priest who finds that his/her personal convictions and those of the chief opinion makers in his/her parish roughly coincide.

The pressures that befall a parish priest are varied and what I say here cannot describe all of them.  I am just reflecting on this idea of expectation as it refers to the situation faced by the typical priest. Sometimes the expectations that are placed on him/her are entirely appropriate but sometimes not. Meeting every demand placed on one is likely to be impossible and probably not desirable anyway. However, the majority perform a ‘good-enough’ ministry to allow a reasonably stress-free existence.  I sense however, that the question of fulfilling expectations adequately and, at the same time, being reasonably true to one’s core-self becomes a greater problem if the priest is ‘preferred’ to a higher rank – that of bishop or archdeacon.  Such senior leaders do not just have to meet the expectation of a finite number of parishioners and church members, they also have to perform correctly within the rules and processes of the wider institution.  A bishop is now a representative figure, a spokesman for the whole, and so he/she is far less able to have, or rather express, private opinions if they deviate from an official line.  Any public statement to be made has first to be processed by a public relations expert. Also, a bishop is faced with all the serious problems of the diocese and its clergy.  He/she has to respond to many situations that no one else wants to deal with.  In our many discussions of safeguarding failures, it is clear that amid the palpable failures of those in authority in this area, there are also enormous pressures on bishops caused by trying to meet all the expectations of all the different parties. Bishops probably can never hope to meet all these expectations and at the same be true to their core being.  They have to live with the reality that they are bound to be a disappointment to one group or another, even to their own inner aspirations. Anyone with even a small amount of sensitivity will feel the considerable stress of these situations. The higher up the hierarchy the clergy climb, the greater the stress felt by those who want to do and say the right thing but cannot because they are the creatures of the role they occupy. 

The individuals who occupy the highest ranks in the Church of England have to live with further complications and these make it difficult for them to be able to experience contentment or job satisfaction.   Alongside trying to meet the expectations of those they serve, there is another challenge to their peace of mind. Bishops and clergy all occupy a place which is defined by the law of the land.  While parish clergy can refer most of their legal responsibilities to others, bishops have to accept responsibility for some difficult legal decisions. Applying regulations which in some cases have not been formulated well, as in safeguarding, simply adds to their stress.  Although some bishops acquire influence and prestige from participating in debates in the House of Lords, we have suggested that the freedom to articulate their true personal feelings and attitudes is severely circumscribed.  Bishops seem to have less freedom to speak their truth than the curate just out of college. Representing the whole Church of England and their diocese, they also have to follow the requirements of the lawyers and publicity curators who control and manage things behind the scenes.  How can any individual deprived of self-expression ever feel true satisfaction in their role?  Just as important is the question – how can a partly silenced leader ever inspire and lead his/her people in a single direction?  The job of representing and meeting the expectations of so many, as well as operating within the constraints of a cumbersome and sometimes corrupt institution, must take its toll.  This role of leader, defender and mouthpiece of a flawed institution must be an enormous burden.  Perhaps the greatest cost to be paid is the experience of being unable to be connected to their deepest truths.

In writing about the power or absence of power given to those highest in the hierarchy of our Church, I am reminded of the confrontation between Jesus and Satan on the mountain of temptation.  The CofE has given enormous prestige to a small group of men and women but seems to have made the possibility of finding their real identity and truth more difficult.  The ‘kingdoms of the world’ as shown to Jesus perhaps represent all the glamour of high office, but it comes at the cost of being manipulated by many forces outside their control.  How many of the house of bishops now realise that the loss of the freedom to find and express their true selves (and thus their ability to act as leaders) is a far greater sacrifice than they had probably ever wanted to make?