Diocesan Synod Address 07 February 2015 Bishop of Tewkesbury Rt. Revd

I think this is a good moment to take stock of where we are as a diocese. In one sense, we are where we expected to be. We’re in the middle of a period of vacancy- in-see with the Crown Nominations Commission meeting at the end of this month to nominate a new bishop, and an announcement expected around April or May, with the hope that the new will take into his or her hands the official pastoral staff in the summer of this year.

But in another sense, we are still a diocese in mourning, for the pastoral staff of the Bishop of Gloucester was never officially laid down by Bishop Michael. That moment, when the outgoing bishop hands the staff to the Dean who then lays in on the high alter in the Cathedral, is not a legal necessity but it is a highly symbolic and significant moment. But it hasn’t happened, and I have the sad duty this morning to inform you, that we are not sure it will happen. The latest news is that, after several months of legal wrangling, the national safeguarding process is now about to begin, but is unlikely to be completed before May, we’re told. So we face the prospect of the announcement of a new bishop, possibly even the welcome of a new bishop, before the process has been completed for Bishop Michael. I’m sure, like me, you will go on praying for all those involved in this momentously sad situation.

But on a different note, we are part of a church which has had cause for much rejoicing in recent weeks. I was privileged to be in York Minister for the consecration of Libby Lane as the new . It was a service filled with a pound sense of joy and everyone there, and everyone who watched on TV, were all truly impressed with the way Bishop Libby handled the enormous press interest as well as her wonderfully gracious response to the interruption in the service.

And indeed this display of grace was then repeated when a week later, Philip North was consecrated as the new . Although Bishop Philip is part of that constituency of the church which cannot accept the ministry of women as priests

and deacons, and even though the archbishop felt it right to exercise ‘gracious restraint’ in not taking part in the consecration itself, yet the pictures of Bishop Philip and Bishop Libby embracing one another during that service, are a wonderful image of a church learning to live with, and even flourish in the midst of differences.

That ability to live with difference will be tested again as the church begins a series of Regional Shared Conversations about Sexuality, Scripture and Mission. Our region, the South West, is the first to meet in April and we will be sending ten delegates to a three-day conference. I have chosen the delegates to ensure, in line with the nationally agreed guidelines, that we have a mix of ages, gender and theological perspectives. The simple aim of the conferences, which will be carefully facilitated by a national team of experts, is to enable genuine listening and understanding of the different positions on this issue. It is not expected that people will change their views and all that is said at the conferences, together with the names of the participants, will remain confidential. The hope, as Archbishop Justin has expressed it, is that these conversations will help to engender a spirit of good disagreement, a church which can live with difference in a spirit of love and grace, and so be a shining light in a world where to disagree is to turn your back on people and shun them, or worse still, turn to violence.

We’ve seen that violence on display in so many shocking ways in recent weeks. From school children being massacred in Pakistan, to cartoonists being shot in Paris, millions fleeing from Syria and Iraq, and schoolgirls being sold into slavery in northern Nigeria. And alongside all of this, we face a general election in the UK in a few months time, where the issue of immigration has become a political football, with some stirring up a nationalist sentiment which is deeply worrying.

How can we live together? This, it seems to me, is one of the key questions of our times – for our nation, our world and our Church. How do we live with difference?

Some of you may know the writings of Miroslav Volf. Croatian by birth, he lived through the war in former Yugoslavia. He now teaches in America. In his wonderful book Exclusion and Embrace, he talks about the four acts of the drama of embrace. So

embracing someone who is different, someone who is ‘other’, someone with whom we disagree, involves firstly opening the arms. This is a gesture of invitation, a sign that I am creating space in myself to receive the other, a statement of desire. In a world of different faiths and different cultures, this means finding opportunities to show others that we wish to engage, making it clear that we want to engage as equals and that we want to receive as well as give.

The second act in the drama of embrace involves waiting. Having opened our arms, we must wait for the other to respond. We cannot force them. An embrace is not an ‘act of invasion’. Having created a space within ourselves to receive from them, we must often wait until they are ready to respond. Many of us who have been involved in interfaith work know how true this is. Following the events of September 11th 2001, I and various other members of the church where I was vicar in Sheffield, visited each of the local mosques in our part of the city. We were warmly received and they expressed their own horror and outrage about what had happened, together with their fear of reprisals. But when in subsequent months, we suggested further meetings, we were told that they were simply too busy. They were polite and friendly but the message was fairly clear that they weren’t wanting to engage at that moment in time. The open arms of embrace are often followed by a time of waiting.

But act three of the drama of embrace is about closing the arms. This is the embrace proper when ‘each is both holding and being held by the other, both active and passive.’ Volf emphasizes that there must be reciprocity within such an embrace but also a soft touch – not crushing, not seeking to assimilate the other, but respecting boundaries.

With one of the local mosques in Sheffield, there came a moment when they asked for my help. They were having difficulty with the planning authorities over their building and so they asked if I would support them in challenging the council. And so I attended a public meeting and was given a seat of honour and was asked to speak. I suppose I could have refused on the grounds that they had not accepted our invitation to meet. But my acceptance led to a whole new relationship between us.

When I in turn asked that they find someone to be a community governor in our school – a school with 80% children from Muslim homes – they did so, and we began working together.

And so to act four of the drama of embrace – opening the arms once again. In embrace, we are not seeking the merging of identities. The other must be let go so her genuine dynamic identity may be preserved. In fact, the dynamic of embrace is a continuous movement, it could be described as a circular movement, an ongoing negotiation of difference. What matters is that a relationship has been established.

My experience was that this relationship is often expressed most fully by working together in partnership. In Sheffield it was the growing partnership in our local school where we soon realized that we shared many of the same values and had the same aspirations for our children. And then partnerships to help some of the most vulnerable in our community – our church ran a night shelter for destitute asylum seekers, some of whom were Muslim and other Muslims happily contributed food and bedding; to partnerships in community building – again we ran a community charity shop and many of the volunteers in the shop were Muslims.

Such partnerships are perhaps the most visible sign of living with difference, for we are not seeking mere co-existence (though in some parts of the world that is an aspiration in itself). But for the church and our society, we need to go beyond coexistence to genuine embrace.

So I urge you brothers and sisters, as we celebrate the image of Bishop Libby embracing Bishop Philip, as we approach the Shared Conversations on Sexuality, Scripture and Mission, as we seek to shine as lights in a world of difference, let us learn what it means to open our arms, to wait, to embrace and to let go, so we are ready to embrace again. May God grant us grace to learn to embrace.