What next on the road to inclusion?

The decision of the House of Bishops of the Church of England effectively to terminate the Living in Love and Faith process, although anticipated, has occasioned neverthess fear, anxiety, despair, anger, bravado and steely determination in those who campaigned for change. 

The Alliance, Holy Trinity Brompton network and Church of England Evangelical Council, aided and abetted by some  individuals in senior management and administration of the CofE, doubtless are content with the outcome of the House of Bishops' deliberations.  Seeking alternative oversight, withdrawing diocesan share, demanding a new province has paid rich dividends.

The gay community has been sacrificed on the altar of expediency, by the chimera of unity and by recourse to theological and legal advice: the advice being singularly partisan and not reflecting arguments that support continuation of the LLF process.  .Justice and equity have been jettisoned to the accompaniment of crocodile tears and wringing of hands.

Should the bishops believe they have made the correct decisions they are in for a shock.  Dissent will continue, standalone services of blessing for single sex couples will be held and bishops challenged to invoke disciplinary procedures. Support organisations for dissenting priests will be formed and public awareness grow of the failure of the Church of  England to apply the key Christian principle of fully inclusive love.  

Brilliant exposition

I commend the following article.

Marriage, Sabbath, Creation and Jesus’s Embodiment of Justice

By the Revd Robert Thompson, Vicar St Mary’s, Kilburn & St James’, West Hampstead; host of Open Table, London; member of General Synod

Like many, my deep disappointment at yesterday’s statement from the House of Bishops on the ending of the Living in Love and Faith process is charged with much anger too. The bishops have confirmed that no proposals will come to February’s General Synod on standalone services of blessing for same-sex couples, nor on permitting clergy or ordinands to enter same-sex civil marriages without canonical penalty. Once again, this position is presented as embodying the need for prudence, pastoral care, and church unity. But delay is never neutral. It is a decision, and this decision has a human cost.

In the Church of England, we have already acknowledged the hurt caused to LGBTQIA + people by our teaching and practice. We have recognised that faithful same-sex relationships can bear the fruits of love, fidelity, patience, and self-giving. We have commended Prayers of Love and Faith as a sign that something has shifted. And yet, when it comes to equality that is visible, embodied, and trusted, equality that can stand on its own, we hesitate.

Prayers may be offered, but only when embedded discreetly within other services. Love may be recognised, but not sufficiently to shape worship in its own right. Relationships may be affirmed, but not enough to allow those who live them to represent the Church publicly as priests. This is not full inclusion. It is calculated containment.

Marriage and Creation

Defenders of the status quo in our debates have often appealed to “creation” to justify this restraint. Marriage, we are told, is a gift of God given in creation and therefore cannot be changed. Doctrine, it is claimed, does not develop but is merely preserved. To alter the Church’s practice in relation to marriage or ministry would therefore be to abandon biblical faithfulness. But this appeal to creation is far less secure, biblically and theologically, than is often assumed.

In the Genesis narratives, humanity is indeed created for relationship. It is “not good that the human should be alone” (Genesis 2.18), and human beings are created for mutuality and companionship (Genesis 1.26–28). Yet Adam and Eve are never described as being married. There is no ritual, no vow, no covenantal form, and no divine command instituting marriage as a fixed social or sacramental institution within the act of creation itself. Marriage, as a recognisable human institution, emerges later, shaped by kinship systems, law, property, and culture.

The oft-quoted line that “a man shall leave his father and mother and cling to his wife” (Genesis 2.24) is not spoken by God but offered by the narrator, already presupposing settled social arrangements beyond Eden. Genesis gives us anthropology, an account of human relationality, not canon law.

Sabbath and Creation

By contrast, there is something in the creation narrative that is explicitly named, blessed, and sanctified by God: the Sabbath. Genesis tells us that God rests on the seventh day, blesses it, and makes it holy (Genesis 2.2–3). If anything can be said to be unambiguously “given in creation”, it is the Sabbath.

This comparison and distinction matters profoundly. Because when Jesus encounters the Sabbath, not as a vague symbol but as a divinely instituted, creation-grounded command, he does not freeze it in place. Nor does he treat its creational status as a reason to resist reinterpretation. Instead, he makes a striking claim: “The Sabbath was made for humankind, not humankind for the Sabbath” (Mark 2.27).

Jesus does not deny the holiness of the Sabbath. He fulfils it by re-articulating its purpose. A creation-given institution is revealed to exist for life, mercy, and human flourishing. When it is used to wound, exclude, or constrain, it has been misunderstood and is not honoured. This instinct lay at the heart of the teaching of the Hebrew prophets: the preservation of life takes precedence over rigid application of law.

This pattern runs consistently through the Gospels. Jesus heals on the Sabbath (Matthew 12.1–14; Luke 13.10–17; Luke 14.1–6), restoring dignity where religious anxiety would have preferred restraint. He insists that mercy, not sacrifice, reveals the heart of God (Hosea 6.6; Matthew 9.13). Law is not abolished, but fulfilled, and fulfilment in biblical terms does not mean repetition, but faithful interpretation ordered towards life.

Jesus’s and the Apostles’ hermeneutic of Justice

Jesus’s way of reading Scripture is not an innovation imposed from outside Israel’s faith, but stands squarely within the prophetic tradition of Judaism, in which God’s commands are continually re-heard in the light of suffering, historical change, and the demands of justice. His teaching does not replace the law; it discloses its purpose.

The same authority is evident when Jesus contrasts inherited teaching with his own words: “You have heard that it was said… but I say to you” (Matthew 5.21–48). This is not a rejection of Scripture, but a claim about how Scripture is to be read faithfully. Doctrine, in the deepest sense, is already dynamic here, not because truth is unstable, but because truth is encountered afresh as God’s purposes come into clearer view.

The early Church understood this instinctively. Faced with the inclusion of Gentiles, the apostles did not cling rigidly to scriptural commands about circumcision. They observed the Spirit’s work among those once excluded, and concluded, “It has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us” (Acts 15.28). Scripture was not abandoned, but re-read in the light of lived faith.

To deny the possibility of doctrinal development, then, is not conservative in any serious theological sense. The Scriptures of Israel themselves witness to a living tradition of interpretation, argument, and moral discernment, shaped by the conviction that God’s will is known most truly where life and dignity are upheld. Jesus stands within this tradition, intensifying its demands rather than abandoning its methods.

If doctrine could not develop, the Incarnation would not deepen Israel’s story, the Resurrection would not widen the horizon of hope, and Pentecost would not mark an expansion of God’s life among God’s people. Christ would be reduced to a guardian of settled meanings, rather than the one in whom God’s purposes are brought into sharper focus and fuller light. In short, Christianity would not have come into being.

Processing our Anger

This brings us back to the present moment. The Church is being asked to believe that a same-sex relationship may be holy enough to be prayed for, but not holy enough to shape worship on its own terms. That a same-sex marriage may be lived faithfully by lay people, but becomes incompatible with holiness the moment a vocation to priesthood is discerned. That baptism incorporates all equally into Christ, yet ministry must still be rationed according to categories of suspicion. This is not theological coherence. It is a hierarchy of dignity.

Appeals to unity and process cannot disguise this reality. Unity that depends on inequality is not Christian unity; it is institutional calm purchased at the expense of a minority’s flourishing. Acknowledging hurt while leaving intact the structures that cause it is not repentance; it is recognition without conversion.

It is here that I locate the anger that charges my sadness. Like many colleagues I am now left in a place where I need to assess how best to respond to episcopal decision-making. Anger because I feel as if I been nothing but a faithful, committed and deeply-engaged Anglican for the entirety of my life and this feels like a resounding slap in the face. Like many I am now asking: at which point does active dissent to this decision-making become both morally and theologically essential and what forms should dissent take?

There is a clear distinction between dissent born of impatience and resistance demanded by conscience. Ecclesial disobedience is not justified simply because progress is slow, a vote has been lost, or a desired outcome deferred. But there does comes a point when continued compliance itself also ceases to be morally neutral. It seems to me that this threshold is now met because of the convergence of four conditions:

First, the harm must be real, ongoing, and acknowledged. In this case, the bishops themselves have named the hurt experienced by queer Christians. This is not speculative damage, nor the complaint of a disgruntled minority.

Second, authority must know the harm and nevertheless maintain the policy that causes it. That border has also now been crossed. Delay is no longer inadvertent or provisional; it is conscious and defended.

Third, the harm must fall disproportionately on a vulnerable group. Here it is borne most acutely by LGBTQIA+ Christians, particularly clergy and ordinands, whose vocations, livelihoods, and integrity are placed under sustained pressure.

Fourth, appeals to unity or process must have become mechanisms of avoidance rather than means of discernment. That is now clearly the case here. Many of us have experienced this process as one that has led nowhere. When Procedure ceases to serve justice and instead becomes a way of deferring it the process itself loses any moral authority.

When these four conditions are present, as they are now, obedience itself becomes ethically charged. Continued compliance is no longer a neutral act of loyalty; it is a decision that participates, however reluctantly, in the maintenance of actual structural harm.

At this point, then, faithfulness may require something more demanding than patience. It may require acting as though the Church we proclaim already exists and accepting the cost of doing so. As Marika Rose, very much echoing Jesus on the Sabbath, writes in Theology for the End of the World: “Christian faithfulness is not about managing the world as it is, but about refusing to give ultimate authority to arrangements that deny life.” When ecclesial structures become arrangements that deny dignity, the call of the Gospel is not quiet endurance but truthful disruption.

Jesus’s call to embody Justice

The issue before the Church today is clear: it is whether we are willing to allow mercy, dignity, and life to be the criteria by which our doctrine and practice are shaped or whether we will continue to defend inherited forms even when they wound the very people in whom the fruits of the Spirit are already evident.

That is not a question about sexuality alone. It is a question about what kind of Church we are becoming and whether we truly believe that Christ is alive enough to lead us somewhere we have not yet fully understood.

Will we follow Jesus on the Sabbath? Will we with Christ embody God’s justice?

 

Shameful cop-out by Church of England bishops.

 On 14 January 2026 the House of Bishops published its proposals concerning LLF  to be put to the next meeting of the General Synod of the Church of England. Basically nothing has changed from the documents published in October and December 2025.  There are to be no stand-alone services of blessing for same-sex couples nor will clergy be able to marry a same-sex partner (although they can be in a civil partnership).

The statement by the House of Bishops may be read on the Church of England website. It is nothing short of a disgrace that no progress to full inclusion in the Church of England has been made, other than blessings as part of regular authorised services.

Predictably and understandably there has been reaction from clergy supportive of change.  Four comments below.

                                                                    ---

Simon Butler:

I leave on holiday for 18 days tomorrow and there’s nothing that prepares me for holiday like a statement from the House of Bishops.

It is a convenient exercise of episcopal cowardice to hide behind theological and legal advice. As one of the Church House lawyers said recently, if the House had given it instructions to implement the decisions of General Synod the lawyers would have done it. Instead they ask for legal advice and then cower behind it, pretending they had no choice.

The conclusion I come to is that, as this is the conclusion of LLF, for me at least it is the conclusion of my pastoral relationship with bishops. I have no confidence in the bishops to exercise any pastoral care for me and I will, for the foreseeable future, relate to my bishops accordingly. They have forfeited any moral authority to pastor LGBT people. They have abandoned me; I will find my own path for the rest of my stipendiary ministry. I would caution any LGBT person to think long and hard before considering a vocation in the Church of England as it is today.

I have made it clear that, as the legal advice given to the House indicates, there is little legal power the bishops have to prevent me from conducting services for same sex couples as I judge pastorally appropriate. It will be for the bishops to decide what action they wish to take and whether they want to fight it out through the law.

---

Robert Thompson:

Bishops can dress this up all they want. But this decision reveals how incoherent our ecclesiology has now become.

The LLF statement presents its outcome as a pastoral compromise. Theologically, however, it represents an impasse. It affirms baptismal belonging, ordains LGBTQIA+ people to ministry, and invokes ecclesial unity—yet refuses to draw the doctrinal and disciplinary consequences of those affirmations.

This leaves LGBTQIA+ clergy inhabiting a space of permanent provisionality: fully called, partially trusted; sacramentally equal, institutionally constrained.

A church that affirms baptismal equality and ordains LGBTQIA+ clergy, but then restricts our vocations for “unity”, isn’t showing patience or pastoral care. It’s simply justifying inequality sanctified by process.

“If one member suffers, all suffer together.” (1 Cor 12:26)

---

Charlie Baczyk-Bell:

Once again, for the avoidance of doubt:

I will gladly offer any queer couples a service of blessing, as is my right as a priest under Canon B5. I am a married, gay priest, and the world has not ended.

The Church of England, and the House of Bishops, is institutionally queerphobic.

We your clergy are not. Come to us, and we will not turn you away.

Queerphobia is no different to misogyny, or racism, or any other kind of hatred. You, bishops, and those you compel you in fear, will face the judgement of the Lord Jesus Christ.

What you do to these little ones, you did also to me.

                 ---

Robert Thompson

The episcopate has become a different caste, rather than order, of the ordained that make decisions in what seems to have become a moral vacuum. 

The fixation on whether the Prayers of Love and Faith require Canon B2 authorisation or can be used under Canon B5 is a a convenient misdirection. 

Bishops have already exercised doctrinal authority by commending the LLF prayers; they could not have done so if they believed them to be contrary to the Church of England’s teaching. The theological decision has already been made. 

To continue speaking as if nothing has changed until B2 is achieved is not caution, it is evasion about their own theological and liturgical decision making. 

This ambiguity serves bishops, but it does not serve not clergy or couples. It preserves episcopal room for manoeuvre while pushing pastoral risk and disciplinary exposure downwards. 

Clergy are asked to carry the weight of uncertainty; same-sex couples are offered prayer without honesty about what the Church now believes; and bishops avoid accountability for the consequences of their own decisions. 

If episcopal leadership means anything, it must include the courage to name what has already been decided and to stand behind it openly. 

Today’s ending of LLF just shows how theologically incoherent episcopal decision making has become.

E.E.H.: Theological jargon

In my opinion scripture consists of entirely human thought and it is a fiction that God (whatever is meant by that word) inspired its authors.  The ideas/concepts etc in scripture are of human origin alone and no, they have not been planted in human minds by some metaphysical/ anthropomorphic force/entity. We should read scripture as we read any other texts. Why should we grant scripture special status or veneration? Of course many do; not only do they accord scripture preferred status, they act upon it to guide/structure their own lives and the lives of others.   In other words subjective opinion as to the meaning of a text is cloaked with the fiction that it is divine, infallible, objective fact.  We may find the content of scripture of interest or even persuasive, but it is not immutable, not a catalogue of instructions/commands/orders to be followed. This is my opinion, many demur.

Theologians have developed jargon as a shorthand to indicate how they reach their understanding of texts namely: exegesis, eisegesis and hermeneutics. A very brief description of each of the terms.

Exegesis: Consideration of a passage of scripture by looking at its historical context, examination of literary elements (poetry, plain text, metaphor, symbolism etc), comparison with other passages, application to current issues. In other words seeking to draw out the author's intended meaning.

Eisegesis: Reading into the text an individual's own ideas, biases or agendas.  In other words the opposite method of exegesis.

Whereas exegesis might be claimed to result in an objective interpretation of the text and is faithful to the intention of the author (as if), eisegesis may result in an interpretation based upon the subjective opinions of the reader. To my mind what matters is not the process but the purpose to which any interpretation is put. 

 Hermeneutics: The theory and methodology of interpretation namely: literal, moral, allegorical and anagogical (mystical).

My thinking is that detailed analysis and understanding of each of these terms is unnecessary.  What does matter is how, in relation to a specific passage, an interpretation  has been determined and the consequences that flow from it.  

Without going into detail, examples of lives being affected by intepretation include:

* What is the scriptural definition of marriage? Can gay couples be married in church?  Some denominations approve of such marriages, some are vehemently opposed.  The issue has the potential to tear the Church of England apart.

* Is homosexuality a sin or not? Again, there is diversity of opinion based upon scriptural interpretation. In The Salvation Army it is not permitted for gay couples to become officers.

On a wider scale there are Christians who understand scripture as a textbook, indeed an instruction manual, to gain a passport to heaven.  There are those who perceive scripture as setting out a command to engage in campaigning for social justice. Some have a foot in both camps. The variety of approaches to interpretation leads to a pick-and-mix scenario and leads me to wonder what does it mean to state you are a Christian?  Do you understand the creeds in a literal or a metaphoric/symbolic sense, or reject them entirely?  Is it any wonder individuals leave and deconstruct?

So, what is my position?  I consider the teaching attributed to Jesus in scripture to be persuasive in relation to how we should treat people and tackle causes of injustice. My approach is eisegesic.  I have little time for any material outside of the synoptic gospels particularly the 'cosmic' texts.   I understand the creeds in a metaphorical/symbolical sense.  Deep down I am agnostic as to whether there is an underlying reality that is unknown and indescribable and not the metaphysical anthropomorphic god of human creation.   Indeed a melange of radical, liberal, progressive and deconstructivist ideas, or may be just a mess.  

The Christian life.

Three quotations* I posted on the Facebook Group:  Radical, Liberal, Progressive and Deconstructivist Theology.  I concur with the sentiments expressed but point out the obvious:  seeking social justice is not the sole preserve of Christians.  Christianity has no monopoly in showing love and kindness for others by campaigning for social justice or helping individuals at point of need. 

*When it come to matters of social justice, there should never be such a thing as a silent Christian.

Rev. Dr. Mark Sandlin

*Save us, Lord, from a religion that ignores the cries of the exploited and oppressed.  Lead us into a deeper faith that challenges injustice and makes the sacrifices that must be made to build a society that is evermore truly human.

Walter Brueggemann

*Compassion and justice are the primary ethical fruits of the Christian life

Marcus Borg

Why do we do it?

Like many people I engaged in helping others, not out of duty, nor a sense of responsibility, but simply because it was activity I wished to engage in. Determining factors included family and peer influence, academic studies, experiences, political leanings and a reaction to inequalities in our society and their causes. 

My exposure to the teaching attributed to Jesus was not the compelling determining influence. I did not need the prop of faith to influence or determine my actions. This is not to demean in any way those of faith who engage in good works as an imperative of their faith. However, in my opinion it is important that such engagement is not perceived as a duty, burden or chore, but as activity to engage in freely, willingly and with love.

What is it that motivates some to adhere to the concepts of human rights,  the Golden Rule and Love your Neighbour as integral to their lives and others to do the opposite?  Is it a consequence of physiology, social conditioning, experiences or a mixture of these factors?  Is it a deliberate choice logically arrived at?

More questions than answers.  Discussion on this topic welcomed.

It's all in the mind.

Imagine the scene.  God is in his/her/their heaven and decides earthlings should learn something about him/her/them concerning future plans and activities. A series of events is arranged with a few select earthlings to inspire them to to write about God, stating accurately God's thinking: texts that are to be construed literally as they are stamped with God's authority.  Thus we have the bible, inspired by God, setting out instructions as to how we should lead our lives.  Naturally God is at the centre and the object of praise and veneration.

The question I pose is: what is the process by which this inspiration is delivered by God  for onward transmission?  Also, why did this process cease in the first century of the Common Era and nothing since?

The process of transmitting God's word by inspiration to humans suggests a view that holds that God is anthropomorphic, as indeed God must be if he listens to prayers, knows our every thought, speaks to us and guides us.  But, how do we know God does these things?  We don't and God doesn't do what individuals ascribe to the entity they name as God.

When people say they have been led to or inspired to take a  course of action by God speaking to them they cannot mean God has delivered an email or social media message.  The process in entirely internalised with no contribution from a metaphysical/ anthropomorphic source. What motivates individuals to undertake an activity and claim an external force is at work, one that is beyond question?

May I suggest that the internalised process is influenced by many factors: education, status, peer pressure, church dogma and doctrine, desire to live in accord with biblical ethics, the influence of the guardians or gatekeepers of the faith, desire to conform etc.? 

So when someone states they have been inspired by God  to undertake a task, think on: no external element is in play, it is purely an internal construct. 

 

A theology of radical change.

 Major themes in the bible are:

* a call for disadvantaged, marginalised and poor individuals to be treated equitably;

* a call for individuals  to help others at point of need;

* a call for systemic change to achieve social justice.

Taken together these themes are a call for radical change in how we as individuals and society at large treat the deprived, ignored and marginalised in our world.  It is a call for the development of an attitude in us  that seeks to give effect to the concepts of the Golden Rule and Love your Neighbour.

In the Church of England's Book of Common Prayer the service of Evening Prayer includes the Magnificat to be spoken by the priest and congregation.  I do wonder what impact the following has on congregations: do they think deeply about the message.

                       He hath showed strength with his arm: he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.

                       He hath put down the mighty from their seat: and hath exalted the humble and meek.

                       He hath filled the hungry with good things: and the rich he hath sent empty away.

We are challenged to confront the establishment by campaigning for change, by promoting a positive option for the poor, the marginalised, the excluded.  Sadly, regrettably this aspect of the Christian faith is either ignored or relegated to minor consideration by some individuals and some denominations, particularly those of a conservative fundamentalist evangelical disposition.  Instead, emphasis is place on repentance, atonement, salvation and a ticket to heaven.  The earthly ministry attributed to Jesus, to develop the concept of heaven on earth and bring about a fairer, equitable, loving and caring society, is lost in the rush for the pass to heaven.

Those who define themselves as progressive christians or who have deconstructed  seek a caring society without the albatross of the demands of biblical literalism, church dogma and doctrine.  Whilst we  may be enthused by the concepts attributed to Jesus it is well to remember that concepts of fairness and love are to be found in other faiths and secular thought. 

Below is an interesting article by Jesse S Bean who has a big social media following. I do not subscribe to his conclusions.

Tom Holland isn’t a preacher. He isn’t a pastor. He isn’t even a Christian apologist. He’s a secular historian—and that’s what makes his admission so unsettling.

Holland argues that Christianity didn’t merely influence Western ethics; it rewired them. Ideas we now treat as obvious—human dignity, the value of the weak, moral equality, compassion as virtue—were not moral defaults of the ancient world. They were revolutionary claims born at the foot of the cross.

In Rome, power defined goodness. Strength justified rule. Mercy was weakness. Victims were disposable. Into that world stepped a crucified God—defeated, shamed, executed—and Christianity had the audacity to call Him Lord. The moral universe inverted. The weak mattered. The poor were seen. Suffering had meaning. Love became a command.

What makes Holland’s conclusion so disruptive is that it exposes a contradiction: modern secular ethics fiercely reject Christianity while quietly living off its moral capital. Concepts like “human rights,” “equality,” and “care for the marginalized” did not emerge from atheism or pagan philosophy. They are Christian claims, stripped of their source and rebranded as self-evident truths.

That admission angers atheists because it undermines the idea that morality can float free from Christ. And it unsettles progressive Christians because it suggests you can’t keep Christian ethics while discarding Christian theology. The fruit grows from a tree—and if you cut the tree down, the fruit doesn’t survive forever.

You don’t have to worship Jesus to live in a world shaped by Him.

But you can’t pretend that world wasn’t built on His cross.

Christianity didn’t just change beliefs.

It changed what humans mean by good.

The challenge of radical, liberal and progressive christian opinion

The Christian bible is but one of many sources of enlightenment.  But it is just that and that alone.  Contrary to what many believe, it is not the word of God.  Rather it is the writings of individuals over many centuries seeking to understand the cosmos and their place in it.   The opinion that such revelation of God's purpose ceased in the first century  anno domini  and is to be found in a series of books shuffled about over a period of time is, to my mind, unsustainable.

We do not need to understand the bible as the product of a metaphysical entity in order to evaluate and appreciate, indeed act upon, ideas contained therein. Nor do we need blind, unquestioning adherence to the literal meaning of the words of scripture. To  suggest there is one set of rules of behaviour that is God given, absolute, stamped with God's imprimatur is to display breath-taking arrogance.

I recommend 'What to believe - twelve brief lessons in radical theology.' by John D Caputo.  It is a challenging book, full of ideas, but as might be expected no answers based on 'certainty'.  We must not stop being curious about people and faith, about what motivates, triggers individuals to show love and kindness, not only on an individual basis, but in seeking to change policies that produce and perpetuate social injustice.

On literalism and allegory.

A section of an article by Rev Mark Sandlin.

There is much truth and meaning to be gleaned from the Christmas story when we see it as an allegory.

One of my favorite theologians, Bishop John Shelby Spong, put it this way: “Unfortunately, the religious minds of our generation believe that these traditions can be protected from erosion only if they are literalized. Nothing could be farther from the truth. The deepest meaning of this season can never really be understood until literal claims have been laid aside. Jesus’ birth was not something that occurred on a silent and holy night in the little town of Bethlehem. No star announced his birth, and no angels sang of peace on earth. These mythical details rather embody a beautiful and eternal human dream that we enter symbolically year after year.”

Spong goes on to say, “Truth is so much bigger than literalism... Some human experiences are so large, so real, so life-changing, and so defining that the words used to describe those moments must break open the imagination if they are to capture this kind of truth.

“Our task is not to master the details or to pretend that myths are history. It is rather to enter the experience that caused the myths surrounding his birth to be born, to be transformed by that life, and to become a new creation through that experience.”

The Epiphany story, like the rest of the Christmas story, is meant to be a reflection of the teachings of Jesus. It is a story of religious pluralism. It is a story of sharing with one another, particularly the rich with those who have less. It is a story of resisting injustice.

An ethic of reciprocity

The Golden Rule is a fundamental ethical principle adopted by many cultures, religions and philosophies.   It states, as a positive statement:  treat others as you would wish to be treated.  It may also be expressed negatively: do not treat others as you would not wish to be treated.

The Rev. Mark Sandlin, a leading progressive christian has this to say:

"We've missed the point of the Golden Rule. It's not to treat people as we would like to be treated.  It's to treat people as we would like to be treated if we were in their shoes. It's a subtle difference that makes a massive difference."

It is a radical change of emphasis and, of course, a difficult one to comprehend.  Just how can be know what it means to be in their shoes unless we have experienced the circumstances and issues face by the other person(s)?  With difficulty.  It does not mean we should not try. On the contrary, if we are to truly love our neighbour the ability to empathise is a first order imperative.  

Sermons

I have listened to Church of England clergy and authorised laity  deliver hundreds of sermons: long, short, boring, interesting, challenging, sleep inducing, droning, erudite, stupid, informative, unintelligle ones.  The one thing they have in common is that I barely remember the content or argument of any of them, sometimes before I have left the church after the service.

I am delighted to note that some preachers commit their sermons to paper and thus it is possible to read and re-read at leisure without the discomfort of hard pews, distractions or poor sound amplification systems. 

I don't know the extent to which budding priests are exposed to methods of delivering a speech.  My experience is it must be very little. No matter  how well researched and crafted the sermon it will be waste  of time if poorly delivered.  

Paradigm shift.

Are we living in a period of paradigm shifts in christian theology and church dogma and doctrine?  It is my opinion that we are.  A word of caution: I am not a  theologian and make no claim to either originality of thought or academic rigour in my writing.  

For many years I accepted the notion that the bible was the infallible word of God, albeit written by humans inspired by God.  I went along with church dogma and, for example,  believed in the literal truth of the Nicean Creed. I was content with the wider doctrines of the denomination I 'belonged' to.   It was all very comforting and simple to understand: keep to the teaching of bible and church and your place in heaven was assured.  

Then doubt set in.   I came to consider the bible to be simply the writings of people of judaic communities (Old Testament) and the New Testament of what were to later be known as christian communities. The books of the bible were attempts by people in those communities to  understand the nature and working of 'god'.  The bible is specific to those times and not a statement of absolute, unalterable truths to be applied to current society. Cloak a human concept with the veneer of the infallible word of God and you have the framework for the guardians of truth to impose their beliefs on others and to exercise discipline on any who demur.  

There are those who believe the words of the bible to be literally those of  God and to be applied accordingly.  Over time other schools of interpretation emerged to take the 'edge' off literal interpretation.  Neverthess for many the centrality of scripture and the various creeds remain at the core of church teaching and application of christian faith and belief. 

Major influences of my theological thoughts have been the ideas of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Jacques Derrida,  John  Robinson,  Don Cupitt and Richard Holloway.  Slowly I have been weaned off bible literalism and cosmic creeds and moved in the direction of applying myself to the  task of assisting others.   The influence of Gustavo Gutierrez, Martin Luther King Jr., Desmond Tutu, Leonardo Boff, Walter Brueggemann and Jurgen Moltmann has been decisive. (As an aside there are philosophical, political and economic writers who have influenced me: as they should as one should not consider theology in a silo but recognise and embrace the interplay of many disciplines.  Thus Karl Popper, Tony Benn and John Kenneth Galbraith among others, have coloured my thinking.)

The influence of postmodernism on my thinking has been profound. Should one accept the idea that there are no over-arching, absolute, metaphysically determined,  unchanging concepts then the basis of belief in the bible as the infallible word  of God is shot through.  It follows that the truth of dogma and doctrine is demoted (or deconstructed if you prefer) to subjective concepts of human origin.

And yet..doubt remains.  Those who embrace liberation or feminist theology or other expressions of fairness and equality often seek to express concepts within the old framework of biblical interpretation and church dogma  It's all a question of interpretation of scripture we are informed.  But, is it?

I do not consider there to be inalienable human rights. Rights, powers and duties are of human origin and rely on assent to be followed, often accompanied by peer pressure and in some cases political enforcement.  It follows that there is no requirement to follow the teaching of religion in order to ascertain metaphysical human rights.  And yet...many state that their desire to assist others is the working out of the commandment of Jesus to love your neighbour.  Let's be brutally clear, everyone is capable to loving neighbours.  It is not the sole preserve of religion.

I consider the teaching attributed to Jesus in the synoptic gospels  persuasive as an indication of how we should behave.  It does not matter if Jesus actually said what is attributed to him or if the text is a melange of myth, other writings, custom or folklore.  It is the message to be ascertained from the text that matters and how we understand its relevance and application (or not) today.

It may strike you that all this is frightfully humanistic and a long way from christian biblical understanding and church dogma. It is, nevertheless once we have deconstructed the accretions of dogma and literalist interpretation of scripture (a  paradigm shift personal to us) we can reconstruct our ideas on a new platform.

It is my opinion that we should show love and kindness to our neighbour.  But what source triggers us to  act in such a way?  Is the call from a source beyond name, description, symbol or metaphor? The new paradigm rejects understanding bible literally and church dogma to secure our passport to heaven. The new paradigm supports neighbours with love, aimed at poor, excluded, and marginalised  individuals. 

Prophetic or pathetic?

Take your pick. Hardline conservative, fundamentalist, literalist evangelicals have a very low opinion of me and maybe pray for my release from heresy and to be born again.  Liberals, progressives, de/reconstructivists on the other hand cheer me on.  I am one very tiny insignificant voice in the journey along the path set by Jesus to love your neighbour and engage in practical support of the poor, the marginalised and the excluded.  

Soren Kierkegaard put it this way:  There are two types of Christians: those who imitate Jesus and those who are just content to admire him.  A sentiment echoed by Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his concept of cheap and costly grace. 

At times I become depressed by the failure of government to take action and remove systemic failings in our society that have the effect of ensuring the continuation of social injustice.  I am depressed further by the lack of radical action by the churches to tackle government on the issues.  

But then I cheer up and determine to press on, fortified by comments such as the following:

Don’t stop being a radical, liberal, progressive reconstructionist. In other words don’t stop being curious about people and faith, then you will continue to be the relevant voice of the church  that you are.

And then I go back into my shell and wonder: why bother?

Looking forward.......

Many people regard the New Year as the time to make wishes concerning their hopes for the year ahead.  It's an advent, a determination to change for the better, for a new beginning, for a sea-change in attitude. Whilst emphasis is placed by many on personal factors,  we may hope for changes in the  political, economic and social status quo to remedy what we perceive as systemic failings in our society. What will 2026 bring in terms of challenging the causes of poverty, destitution, homelessness, addiction, discrimination, marginalisation, exclusion?   Or will we enter 2027 wringing our hands at lack of progress in achieving even a modicum of social justice?

It is for individuals to organise into pressure groups to educate the electorate on the systemic failure to deal with the issues noted above and to confront government with the reality of the situation and argue forcefully for change, engaging in direct action if need be.  Such pressure groups are at work and need to be supported to advance their causes. 

I concur with the opinions expressed by Stuart Delony:

“I’m not here to defend doctrines or claim certainty. That boat’s sailed. These days, I live in the tension—between belief and doubt, silence and signal. But even from that space, the way of Jesus still haunts me. Not the theology. Not the miracles. Just the audacity of loving enemies and elevating the broken as if they weren’t disposable. That stays with me. Saints—at least the ones polished up by modern faith—are exhausting. They smile too much. They sell certainty like it’s clearance-priced salvation. And if you spend enough time with them, you realize that sainthood is often just repression in a choir robe. Give me a skeptic. Someone who doubts clean answers and still shows up. Someone who doesn’t need a theology to justify their compassion. Someone who knows the world’s broken but hasn’t hardened into apathy. That’s the kind of person I’d rather walk with. Or drink with. Or follow through the dark. These days, I’m not looking for a belief system. I’m looking for a way to live. Something that smells like honesty. Something that honors doubt without drowning in it. Something that still dares to love, even without the cosmic reward points. Call it post-evangelical. Call it spiritual agnosticism. Call it “still figuring it out.” I don’t care. Just don’t try to sell me certainty. Because at this point, I’ll take a worn-out skeptic over a polished saint any day.”

The challenge for me is not to debate theological ideas, doctrine or dogma, but to become more involved in the task of seeking to promote the idea that all individuals are to be treated equitably and not marginalised, excluded or discriminated against.  We have to challenge the causes of poverty, of multiple deprivation and counter the peddlers of hate.  It is called loving your neighbour.