
There is an advantage in having absolutely no inside information with regard to a puzzling church news story that has appeared over the past couple of weeks. My ignorance allows me to think out loud as to what might be going on behind the curtain of secrecy in the appointment process for the next Bishop of Durham. We have been told that the nominee for this prestigious post has withdrawn his/her name from the appointment process. Speculation immediately arises, not only about the name of the individual concerned, but the possible reasons for any reasonably qualified individual not allowing him/herself to be suggested for the fourth most senior post in the Church of England. Having no sources of information, I can join my readers in speculating that this piece of news may possibly denote a situation of crisis at the top, and it may have considerable implications for the future of the Church of England.
Why is the withdrawal of one possible contender for the see of Durham a matter of potentially upmost seriousness? Before we can attempt to answer that question, we should note that the task of finding someone to head up an organisation in any walk of life is seldom a straightforward task. A selection committee may have to work extremely hard, only to find that none of the possible candidates are suitable for the post. How many appointment committees end up appointing the least objectionable candidate rather than the best candidate, simply because they know an appointment has to be made? In the case of parish appointments, there are some posts where no applications are being received. Interregna stretch on over the years and the only thing that changes is that the band of retired clergy ‘helping out’ get older and frailer. The House for Duty option is becoming increasingly less attractive as the costs of heating a rural vicarage become unaffordable on a pension. When an appointment is eventually made, problems do not necessarily go away. The appointment committee may have to witness how the lack of experience they had noted in a candidate at the interview stage, turns into a parochial nightmare which nothing except a future retirement will be able to resolve.
The candidates for posts of bishop do not arrive for selection without their own personal histories. These may have attracted a share of controversy and challenge. The episcopal candidates may well be men and women of real ability and skill, but the situations they potentially face are still highly stressful. One contemporary challenge is summed up in the two words ‘social media’. This pair of words sums up a whole host of hazards for a bishop in the Church of England. The uncomfortable reality of occupying a prominent role in an organisation, under constant media scrutiny, include being discussed and criticised on Facebook or X without having a realistic opportunity to reply. Even if the discussion about you is relatively friendly, the sheer fact of constant exposure to the public must be a constant strain.
Two suggestions to explain why the nominee for the Bishop of Durham is withdrawing from the process have been made. One is somewhat mischievous and needs no further discussion. The candidate is thought to be angling for the other current vacancy, that of the throne of Canterbury. The more likely explanation is that the role of Diocesan bishop has become increasingly unattractive over the years and that qualified candidates simply do not want the sheer stress of occupying the role. At any one time, there are only a finite number of candidates capable of filling the post of a diocesan bishop. Is the person that might be qualified free to be considered? The window of time that exists for such a major move to be made may be fairly narrow. Also, as with parishes, dioceses come with plusses and minuses, many to do with finance. A number of the 42 English dioceses are believed to have financial black holes which could make a vacant diocese an uncomfortable post to preside over. To have to worry about parishes in your diocese being unable or unwilling to pay the parish share is a considerable burden. The fact of a serious deficit is only part of the problem. It is the fact that the necessary response to deficits, closing or amalgamating parishes, potentially makes the incoming bishop part of a ‘them’ trying to ‘destroy’ the parish system. The situation in Truro and Leicester, where creation of massive teams and groupings of parishes is well under way, is not thought to be a happy one.
The role of a bishop seems sometimes like that of an unpopular manager closing down local branches of a national company. Closing anything down is never popular and it will, perhaps inevitably, create considerable personal stress for the would-be office holder. A recent, but even greater, source of stress has been laid on the entire episcopal body through the advent of safeguarding. If there is a diocese which has an exemplary record in this area, we will probably never hear about it. If bishops and safeguarding officers are playing their part in preventing harm happening to vulnerable individuals, that is as it should be. Sadly, we only hear about failures and neglect. No kudos or congratulations is given to a bishop who gives a great deal of energy and effort to getting safeguarding right. It is a tails you lose and heads no one will ever know. Safeguarding is an arena of deep unhappiness for victims and survivors but often also for those who oversee its implementation. The Church of England had an opportunity to let go of this area of enormous stress in the February Synod. But, by retaining final control of safeguarding in-house, the C/E has built into the role of its officeholders, everyone from bishops to churchwardens, a responsibility which can be thoroughly toxic. By its nature it seldom seems to be able to promote joy or creative change in those who administer it.
In 2025 we contemplate an institution, the Church of England, which, for many, has become a place of stress and unhappiness. In the past it was easy to glimpse a certain glamour in the prestige and power of those who presided over this venerable organisation as bishops. Some of those who exercised that power in British society are remembered for fulfilling a role as the moral conscience of the nation. It is hard for bishops today to achieve such a profile when the discussions that are heard by the public, seem to be self-absorbed and even trivial.
In asking the question again as to why a nominee for a prestigious bishopric should withdraw his or her candidacy, we might answer with one word – morale. The individual so nominated may simply see in front of him/her endless insoluble issues of finance, management and personnel. The would-be bishop does not feel capable of dealing with them all without ending up as a severe casualty of depression and stress. At the heart of a bishop’s calling is the pastoral support and care of the clergy in his diocese. These other essential priorities – management, finance and safeguarding – get in the way of this vital task. If he/she is prevented from caring for the clergy, then the heart of the episcopal task is being laid to one side. It is small wonder that more clergy are more likely to seek the opposite to preferment, preferring a post which allows them to do the ordinary priestly tasks of teaching, pastoral care and providing first class inspiring worship. The old-fashioned activity of parish and hospital visiting was right at the top of the ‘things-to-do-list’ during my training years in the 70s. I accept that parish priorities have had to change with the times over the past 30 years, but I cannot see that a regime which seems to attract to itself endless form filling and team meetings, allows the human vocational aspect of priesthood to flourish.
The simple question why the nominee to the bishopric of Durham withdrew, may have a simple answer. The person so nominated recognised that the job was now one that has developed and turned into a monster that is impossible to control. Questions abound over the mental health of archbishops and bishops alike are already being asked elsewhere. Parish priests have their own sets of problems which challenge mental and physical stamina. We cannot discuss that issue of parishes today, but it seems clear that the lot of the parish priest is more difficult to manage than in the past. If I am right, then the claim will be reflected in the declining number offering themselves for full time ministry. When these numbers recover that may be an indicator that morale is returning to the Church of England.
Interesting, as always, and good to reflect on Anglicanism’s ‘slow-motion replay’ Boston Tea Party. ‘No taxation without representation’ plays out in relations between parishes and dioceses. Parishioners have lost faith in Bishops, while whole diocesan teams have just lost the plot. Some people stay on the parish register, but decide to contribute zero financially. Others offer a minor, token yearly contribution.
What I begin to note is questions being flagged up more widely. Consider one rural parish I visited latterly. A gigantic empty rectory to keep, but nil happening for months or years on filling it. Why no enthusiastic vacancy advertising in an age of free internet postings?
Inability to care for rectory the garden or graveyard, means significant financial outlay. Members are called to join ‘a mowing rota’. A tiny Sunday congregation, of mainly older people, in middle teens size, comes to worship in a vast feeling old building.
The crisis we see is not acute. It is acute on chronic. Failure to read the times, or the people and society, will begin to cost Anglican Bishops their jobs. Also, woeful safeguarding rests in the context of this parish-diocese power imbalance. ‘The diocese is always right’, and needing ever larger amounts of parish money for schemes (or scams?).
But the lemons and oranges are reading Amos Chapter 5, and no longer turning up when the Bishop invites them once again to the juicer or squeezer. Interesting times! The heresy about ‘The Church’ being about Bo-Peep sticks, men in vestments, building investments and swish kitted out vicarages is collapsing: not before time!
If said nominee’s “baggage” was considered a little bit more carefully, and drawn to his or her attention before appointment, then the C of E is finally learning something.
It’s possible that the appointee’s reasons for withdrawing are purely personal; e.g serious illness in themself or family.
However, I agree with your analysis, Stephen, about the parlous state of the C of E and the unattractiveness of being a diocesan bishop. It’s odd that some people still want the job.
It’s common for a candidate for a leadership role to use the interview to explore what the priorities are for the appointment and to decide whether or not they feel able to meet those requirements. I have no knowledge of the present case, of course, but it might be that the commission wanted someone with a particular set of skills that they judged the candidate to possess (eg financial or managerial) but the candidate felt called to do something different (eg pastoral or theological) in the role. Withdrawal on those grounds would be entirely proper and uncontroversial.
Richard, I agree – and the discernment process leading to the nomination of someone to be the next bishop of a diocese is two-way process, with candidates being considered by the CNC (Crown Nominations Commission) invited to join the process, rather than applying for the ‘job’. Someone suggested as a possible candidate may have declined the invitation before the interview, but he or she could also withdraw having reflected further after the interview. What is odd about Durham is that the withdrawal came so late: the interviews were on 26/27 November 2024, with the expectation (based on other cases) that an announcement from 10 Downing Street naming the new bishop would be made around mid-January. That the announcement of the nominee’s withdrawal only came on 17 February suggests personal reasons – which could apply in any recruitment situation. There is no point speculating on the reasons; what surely matters is that a way should be found for the CNC process to re-start sooner rather than later. However, notwithstanding that General Synod voted in February to amend Standing Order 138 (on a temporary one-year basis) to enable a nominated bishop (rather than one of the two archbishops) to preside at a CNC, there is still a considerable burden on the central CNC members, with a time commitment of three days, plus reading time, in respect of each episcopal vacancy. Currently, too, there are only three of the original ‘pairs’ of central members, elected in 2022, and with one of the members of those three pairs ‘stood back’ following the Makin report.
Is a Bishop not called to be a pastor to their lay ministers? And/or to the laity in general? I thought all the points made above are good. But surely, if you actually want to be a Bishop, you shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the job! 😀
Sir Jimmy Saville and the Papal Knight award is a story from a little over 10 years ago. Catholicism has made progress on safeguarding and dealing with clerical bullies. Anglicanism remains in the dark ages. Does appointment of Bishops and Archbishops, and plenty of child or adult protection mishandling, stink of Freemasonry type secrecy? It is less of a mystery why so many Anglicans are considering leaving, or minimising their current inputs?
Whenever I’m asked about ‘runners and riders’ for any particular episcopal post (currently Canterbury is the most popular) I reply “it’s not I job I’d wish on anyone”. And though it’s vanishingly unlikely I’d ever have had that offer put to me in my time in paid ministry, I hope I’d have had the courage of that conviction to turn and walk the other way.
So maybe the simplest explanation is the right one. Who, in their right mind, would want to one a bishop in the Church of England right now?
One of the original bishops and who lies still in Durham Cathedral wanted to be left alone on his Farne Island dealing with demon and talking with angels. The hierarchy of the church forced him into the job. I prefer to see him waist deep in the sea with his arms raised to the skies praising the Celtic gods watched on by the otters. (Dear old Cuthbert)