[This article is from our Spring 2018 issue. To read back issues dating back to 2015, please activate your subscription]
In late 2015, the Church of England’s Ministry Division set up a small working group to investigate and explore licensed and authorised ministry in England.
Esther Elliott gives an overview of this project.
It was apparent early on to the group that there could be real value in thinking about lay ministry alongside (and inside) our thinking about the doctrine of the incarnation. All ministry is to be understood as the servant of mission. The work of God in drawing all creation into a loving, free, reconciled relationship with Godself is the purpose of all Christian faith and action. The incarnation is key to understanding the dynamic of how God does this and gives us a pattern to follow. However, as a church, we have some assumed models for incarnational ministry which assume that the norm for ministry is stipendary and ordained. These models include, for example, where we draw boundaries between what is ministry and what is not and what tasks are included in what we define as being the Christ-like presence in a particular place. Perhaps too the term ‘incarnational’ has come to mean being somewhere for a few years and then moving on, taking a feature of the life of Christ, in an extremely blunt form, and using it as a pattern.
We are privileged to have the Peak District as part of the Derby Diocese. Many Readers who minister here have been part of a particular community all their lives. Others, however, have retired here after working and ministering elsewhere. I wonder how different incarnational ministry is for them, and how that might help us develop our understanding of the theological meaning of ‘incarnation’.
Building a framework
The working group was asked to propose a framework for lay ministries in the Church of England that respected the diversity of expression between dioceses and encouraged shared learning and good practice. So we consulted and collaborated in as many ways as we could within the short timeframe given. We asked bishops and diocesan staff for facts, figures and opinions. We ran two consultations which drew together the majority of people around the country who have some sort of responsibility for providing training and discernment processes for lay ministers and we ran focus groups with a variety of lay ministers in different places. Although this process was by no means exhaustive, some strong evidence came out of it confirming that the diversity of practice in lay authorised and licensed ministry is based in some solid realities of Church of England ministry. If a bishop wants something done a certain way, it is usually done that way. More complicated is the fact that dioceses have history, in their practices, their thinking and their cultures. We have recently closed a programme in which Readers from Derby Diocese trained alongside those from Southwell and Nottingham Diocese. Geographically and culturally the areas these dioceses cover aren’t that different, but there are huge differences in culture. And personally, because my ministry stretches across the two, I am often tasked with trying to be the same person in two different ways. This diversity is hugely important.
As the Church of England, we are anxious for all sorts of reasons. We are anxious about whether we can keep going. We are fearful that we have lost our power of influence and our place for authority. We are in the process of finding out all sorts of things from our corporate history we would frankly sooner not be reminded of. For some people who are anxious, furiously trying to do something about the causes of anxiety helps. For others, trying to find the common themes and draw everything together to gain a sense of control helps. Institutions are no different: we have leaders who are advocating that we get active and prioritise evangelism getting more and more people into roles; and we have leaders who are advocating that the centre, the House of Bishops, gets more of a grip and draws things together. A different way of dealing with anxiety, however, is to sit with it and let it stir up questions and opportunities to try new ways of acting and thinking so we can continually find and rest in some integrity about the ways in which we work as an individual and as a community. As a working group we decided to follow this third way. We don’t advocate trying to prioritise getting more lay ministers, nor do we prioritise ‘boxing up’ or ‘labelling’ lay ministers and what they do. Rather, our common framework, for the moment, is a commitment to finding the ways and resources to share space for stirring up questions and opportunities to try things out.
From task to role
Following on from this and having considered carefully the recent theological, Biblical and practical gathered wisdom around ministry, the working group felt it was imperative to shift the current focus of our thinking about lay ministry from exploring role and identity to exploring tasks and acts of service. The overwhelming majority of New Testament scholarship now supports the understanding of ministry as the commissioned and accountable service of an envoy. In this, ministry is both distinct from, and connected to, discipleship. Service and witness are vital and revitalising components of discipleship. And, for some disciples, being commissioned and supported for a specific act of service and witness is a meaningful and effective means by which they play their part in the shared endeavour of ministry.
In my home parish, I am often to be found on a Sunday as a Reader in the role of liturgical deacon at the Eucharist. I could be in that role if I was an OLM, a distinctive deacon or if I had no formal licence or authorisation. I have learnt to inhabit that role not just because I am a Reader and that’s what Readers do, but because one of the tasks I recognise I am licensed to undertake is to build bridges in my local place between lay and ordained people. I stand at the altar next to the priest as a symbol, in my context and my tradition, of lay involvement in the Eucharist which somehow transcends simply receiving the bread and the wine. I stand there in my robes and blue scarf next to the priest in their robes and stole as a symbol of being the same and yet also being different. The theological questions that raises are profound – and very worth pondering.
In the remainder of this article, I want to raise some themes that being part of this project has provoked me to also explore about the world of lay ministry.
Authenticity
This concept is fiendishly difficult to define. What does it mean for us, as lay ministers, to be worthy of acceptance? What does it mean for us to conform to an existing pattern or picture or model or to conform to the original? What does it mean for us to not be fake, or an imitation of something? In organisational terms, these are questions which often lie in the land of vocational discernment and selection. Perhaps they spread out a bit if you have standards or competency grids for assessment of people at the end of their training, or at transition points. But to ask these questions in those spaces means they have a specific function – usually are you in or are you out. There is worth in asking these questions in other spaces as well.
We, as lay ministers, are often called lay theologians. Whether you like that term or not, it does identify what sets us apart from those who are set apart – by Holy Orders – and identifies one of our key tasks. It also situates us in a binary of lay and ordained. Perhaps playing with the notion of how we embrace, talk about, think about, what is natural, human, real; how we handle authenticity – our own and as a concept – might help us find a way to explore this idea more deeply. It might help us with our own sense of personal and community vocation – being who we are called to be. What does being an authentic minister mean to you? What gives you authenticity? What could take it away?
Permission
Licensed and authorised ministers in the Church of England are given permission to minister. Usually, because we are a hierarchy, this is by the bishop through the system of applying Canon Law and licensing people, sometimes more locally through a variety of systems of authorisation. We are given permission; we also have to take that permission for it to be effective. We are people who have been given permission to do something and hold a national licence and we are still volunteers. Think about how unusual that is in the world of volunteering. What difference does that make to not just how we are managed, but how we do what we do?
Currently, we are in the process of prioritising innovation and creativity. For example, the way in which activity and projects are funded from the national church has recently changed. Dioceses are no longer given a block grant for work but have to bid for the money. This will have many intended and unintended consequences, some good, some not so good. In this context, it is very easy to assume that permission-giving is simply all about approval to innovate, to try out new stuff. But for 151 years Readers have been given licence to pioneer stability. What might that mean for us in the contemporary context? How does that stretch beyond simply being the people who help do the maintenance as well as the mission, who keep the BCP services alive? How do we take permission to pioneer stability, to put those two thoughts together?
Professionalism
The world of ministry is being professionalised. Clergy have terms and conditions of service, ministerial development reviews and now national and local strategies for their well-being. All training for ordained ministry is overseen by one institution; Durham University. We have picked up the habit of collecting statistics and information about our corporate and individual life at every turn. For the first time, there is a national programme of statutory training (safeguarding training) for all ministers with serious consequences if you don’t do it. There is space to ask questions about whether lay ministers need some of these mechanisms. What does professionalism, beyond these functions, look like? What does it mean to be adept and adroit as a licensed lay minister? Is it that we meet an agreed set of competencies or values? Is it something different? What else do we need, as well as training and support to enable us to be professional? Perhaps the metaphor of being ambassadors for Christ might be helpful.
I have given you three themes of authenticity, permission and professionalism to add to exploring lay ministry in the context of the doctrine of the incarnation, committing to and resourcing a common framework of stirring up questions, conversations and trying new things to enhance good practice and shifting our focus from roles and identity to tasks and acts of service. I hope that I have given you some glimpses of some of the depth of thinking and practice, creativity and wisdom we can continue, or begin, to exercise as Lay Ministers in service of the church, in service of the God who love us and all humanity, who longs for all of creation to be reconciled to Godself over and over again.
Canon Dr Esther Elliott is Director of Studies in Derby Diocese with responsibility for the initial training of Readers and ordinands, and until recently Warden of Readers for Derby Diocese. She is also a Reader in the Parish of St Peter and All Saints, Nottingham City Centre.
[This article is from our Spring 2018 issue. To read back issues dating back to 2015, please activate your subscription]