As the Central Readers’ Council celebrates its centenary, Stephanie Hayton looks back in time.
[This article is from our Winter 2022 issue. To read back issues dating back to 2015, please activate your subscription]
There have been Readers, or ‘official lay ministers of the Church’, since New Testament times.1 Although their current role in the Church of England began in 1866, the ‘existence of an order of Readers… is a constant’ because ‘Readers are not simply an Anglican institution’ but ‘are admitted to an ancient order common to the Church Universal’.2 The practice of allowing educated lay people to preach and teach has its roots in the synagogues. Jewish priests had a sacramental role which focused on the Jerusalem Temple but, in the synagogues, educated Jewish laymen could read from Scripture and explain it to the congregation. Jesus fulfilled this role in the synagogue at Nazareth.
The early Church continued to use lay people to preach (e.g. 1 Tim 4:13). By 200 AD, it seems that Readers were the educated teachers within churches, whereas presbyters, deacons and even bishops might not have this claim.1
However, after Constantine’s edict in 313 AD, Christian leaders could have certain legal privileges so it became important to select the leaders and guard against heresy. Hence, ordination became important, clergy were trained to preach, and lay preachers were not required. The office of ‘Reader’ became a stepping-stone towards ordination3 and disappeared as a separate lay office until the sixteenth century when it was reinstated by Elizabeth I.
During the religiously and politically turbulent reigns of Henry VIII and his children, the nation needed unity and a common religion was one answer. The first Book of Common Prayer was published in 1549 during the reign of Edward VI. Even clergy were not always allowed to preach but instead read from the Church-authorised Book of Homilies4 (1547 and 1632). Even these measures were suppressed during Mary’s reign.
Elizabeth’s kingdom held a wide spectrum of religious views (from Puritans to Roman Catholics) so she demanded ‘conformity’. The Act of Supremacy (1559) required clergy and nobles to acknowledge the Queen as Supreme Governor of the Church of England. Some clergy rebelled, causing a shortage of church leaders. Hence, Archbishop Matthew Parker allowed incumbents to appoint ‘some sober honest and grave layman who as lector or Reader shall give his attendance to read the order of service appointed’.1 The role of these Readers varied: some did little more than read services and homilies, while others were active in missionary and pastoral work within the parish,5 but they all had to resign their positions when clergymen became available.1
As Anglicanism became established, clergy increased and the need for lay Readers disappeared. However, some laypeople continued to work as Readers in more missional settings such as New England and Australia.6 The Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts (SPG), founded in 1701, employed lay Readers who could also be catechists, schoolmasters or schoolmistresses. Other Readers were appointed by missionaries to lead new churches in communities – becoming, essentially, ministers – preaching, teaching, and leading worship in a pastoral context, some even baptising children.7 Others were viewed as ‘undertrained’. However successful they were, all were demoted when clergy arrived.
During the 1800s, in England, the activity of lay preachers (including women) increased8 but, since they were not ordained, the Church had little control over them. The population of England, particularly in towns and cities, grew rapidly during this period. However, the new housing estates attracted few clergy and many working people believed clergy to be part of the ‘oppressor’ class. In 1850, the bishops faced these issues and, after several years of discussion, resolved to reinstate the Order of Readers. At this stage, all Readers were male. Unlike clergy, they could have secular employment so did not need to be paid.
The idea of lay leadership in worship and preaching caused some anxiety, as did questions about the role and place of Reader ministry in the structures and organisation of the church.9 Readers were empowered to ‘render general aid to the clergy in all ministrations not strictly requiring the service of one in Holy Orders; to read lessons in Church; to read prayers and Holy Scripture, and to explain the same…’1 They were also encouraged to help ‘clergymen and others in… mission work’ holding services in prisons and workhouses, for sailors and other marginalised groups.10 This office was unpaid, licensed (or commissioned) by the bishop and with the incumbent’s agreement.
The Order of Readers was developed with mixed motives: it allowed greater lay involvement in churches, it provided a control over unauthorised preachers, it encouraged a wider pastoral ministry as Readers visited the sick, and it was hoped that Readers could work in areas of the population where clergy were not welcome. Some Bishops expected Readers to hold a similar social standing and education to clergy. Others recognised the social gap between clergy and the unchurched, so wanted Readers to bridge that gap.9 This caused two levels of Reader to develop: parochial Readers who could minister only in their home churches, and diocesan Readers who sat examinations then ministered across the diocese.
Initially many Readers were confined to reading the lesson, explaining the Scriptures in private households, and visiting the sick. A significant advance was made in 1884 when Readers were permitted to preach and read the non-priestly sections of Morning and Evening Prayer in unconsecrated buildings.1 By 1905, Readers could preach their own sermons although only the incumbent could use the pulpit.
Over the next decade, the Reader identity developed, often separate from the structures of the Church.
Theological colleges trained Readers, evangelists and missioners and these could be stipendiary roles. The Church had agreed in 1898 that trained evangelists could be given a Reader’s licence. In 1908, a central body to oversee Reader ministry was formed including clergy and Readers from different dioceses. This became the Central Readers’ Board in 19221 and, later, the Central Readers’ Council.11
During the World Wars, many clergy became army chaplains. Readers also enlisted and frequently led services, but qualified lay people were likewise needed to lead services and care for congregations at home. Many Readers took on necessary leadership roles ‘by default’, responding to a shortage of clergy. Social barriers between the upper classes (nobles and many clergy) and working people were breaking down. This growing egalitarianism reduced the need for the Readers’ bridging role and changed Reader ministry from ‘pioneering work on the boundaries between church and world, into something more churchy…’12
As the Church began to recognise the need for a lay voice in its affairs, the British Government passed the ‘Enabling Act’ (1919–20), allowing lay voices in the new Church Assembly (the precursor to the General Synod). Parochial Church Councils were also formed, giving lay congregation members the opportunity to guide their home church. This was followed in 1941 by updated regulations for Reader ministry which allowed all Readers to preach in any church building, if invited, and included the Reader as a member of parish staff. These regulations also allowed Readers to assist in Holy Communion services, although they were forbidden from preaching at these services.1
Common themes appear in this history: Reader ministry was encouraged when there was a lack of suitable clergy. Although the mission aspect of Reader ministry is noted, the Church’s concern for Readers focused on assisting clergy. This emphasis was reflected in church discussions and regulations governing Reader ministry.
Between 1910 and 1935, there was growing pressure to ordain women. From 1887, stipendiary lay women could work within the Church Army1 and, slowly, women were being allowed to assist with services. In 1935, an Archbishops’ Commission considered the ministry of women. Although it recommended that women should be able to exercise ministry as deaconesses, lay workers and Church Army Sisters, it believed that the Church would only accept male priests. However, the Commission suggested that women should be licensed as lay Readers.13
Over the following decades, there were concerns that licensing women might promote female ordination. In 1969, however, women were licensed as Readers. Molly Dow, one of the first female Readers, commented, ‘I felt then, and still feel, that having gifts for “up-front ministry’’ does not necessarily constitute a call to ordination. It seems right that lay people are seen to be able to do that kind of thing: that they, too, have theological and leadership gifts for the church.’14 However, as several of the articles in the Summer 2019 issue of The Reader demonstrated, seeing women in robes in pulpits and at the front of churches certainly helped move the culture towards accepting women in priestly and leadership roles.
In the twenty-first century, the twin themes through Reader ministry continue to be seen: the recognition of the need for lay involvement in the Church and in mission as society becomes increasingly secular and multicultural. Readers are not just there to assist the clergy but to bridge the two worlds of church and everyday life. A greater focus on Readers has led to an alternative name (Licensed Lay Ministers) and specific training. In 2021, new guidance was offered for the selection, discernment and training of Readers.15 This guidance acknowledges the role that Readers have in linking worship and our place in the world.
In 2018, Bishop Martyn Snow (Chair of the CRC from 2016 to 2020) emphasised the need for Readers to be ‘leaders in church and society’.16 There is a growing sense too of the vocation to Reader ministry being a separate calling, distinct from the call to the priesthood but just as valuable in itself. This is emphasised by the CRC now welcoming its first lay Chair as it celebrates its centenary.
Stephanie Hayton is Warden of Lay Ministry, Diocese of Bristol, and a Trustee of the Central Readers’ Council. This article is based on work carried out for an MA in Christian Approaches to Leadership at Sarum College in 2021.
[This article is from our Winter 2022 issue. To read back issues dating back to 2015, please activate your subscription]
References
- King, T G, Readers: A Pioneer Ministry. London: The Miss Myland Fund, 1973.
- Young, F, ‘Readers in the Eastern Churches’. Transforming Ministry, 120(4), Winter 2020: pp.17-18.
- Knight, K,. Lector (online). Available at www. newadvent.org/cathen/09111a.htm. 2020.
- Ryrie, A, The Age of Reformation: The Tudor and Stuart Realms 1485–1603. Harlow: Pearson Longman, 2017.
- Younger, N, ‘How Protestant was the Elizabethan Regime?’ The English Historical review, 133(564), 2018: pp.1060-92.
- Withycombe, R S M, ‘Rural ministry: historical case studies from mid-ninteenth century Australian colonies.’ Rural Theology, 6(1)(70), 2008.
- Tovey, P, Buck, S, and Dodds G, Instruments of Christ’s Love. London: SCM Press, 2016.
- Andrews, R M, ‘Women of the seventeenth and eighteenth-century high church tradition.’ Anglican and Episcopal History, March 2015: pp.49-64.
- Garner, P, The Reader: an exploration of the history and present place of Reader ministry in the Church of England. Unpublished PhD thesis, University of Leeds, 2010.
- Ministry Division of the Archbishops’ Council, Reader Upbeat: Quickening the Tempo of Reader Ministry in the Church Today. London: Church House Publishing, 2008.
- Hiscox, R, Celebrating Reader Ministry. London: Mowbray.
- Paterson, R, ‘Comment’. The Reader, 116(2) Summer, 2016: p.7.
- Archbishops’ Council, Women Bishops in the Church of England. London: Church House Publishing, 2004.
- Dow, M. ‘A Reader for fifty years (nearly), The Reader, 119(Summer), 2019: pp.9-10.
- www.churchofengland.org/sites/default/ files/2021-04/LLM%20Reader%20discernment%20 framework%20toplevel%20grid_1.pdf.
- Snow, M, ‘The future of Reader ministry.’ The Reader, 118(2) Spring 2018: pp.5-7.