The Real Takeover of the Church of England

Ignoring the spurious takeover of the Church of England by the evangelicals, the Bishop of Burnley tells us that the selection procedures for ministry in that denomination favour the middle classes.

Well, you could have knocked me down with a Toyota Rav4. An establishment whose leadership traditionally came from the landed classes, and which requires its members be able to know where to look in at least two and possibly three books in order simply to take part in its regular meetings. How could it be that it favours literate, assertive people in its selection criteria? After 500 years of the Church of England, in 400 of which the best qualification for being an incumbent was being related to the patron - how could this have happened? But I reckon it is in fact true. The Church of England has in fact been taken over by the posh. It happened in the 16th Century - if not earlier. And, like Cybermen, your best chance of joining the club is to be like them. If you're not like them, get assimilated. And so the Church of England continues its merry way, the last refuge of the 18th Century.

An - ahem - acquaintance of mine can indicate some personal experience here. On a Bishop's Advisory Panel, he discovered that one of the Advisers was the Archdeacon of Charing Cross. Although this particular candidate was working class in upbringing, he was fortunate enough to have got into Oxford, where he had learnt to treat people with silly titles with equanimity. And so he was merely able to reflect that he had accidentally wandered into a Trollope novel. If he'd been by trade a welder, he might have decided to have a few at the bar and then just legged it for Stafford station.

Now I'm no student of Anglican culture. But I'd like to make some suggestions. Have a look, see what you think. There may be something in some of them. And if not, maybe your realisation of my mistake will help you to come up with something better.

1. As people in business are gradually realising, "leadership" is a very amorphous concept. "Leadership" often just means "self confidence". People who are brought up knowing where the next croissant is coming from, who have been taught that they can achieve their aspirations, will have more self-confidence than those who have struggled throughout. Having to succeed from a working-class background can make assertiveness look like aggression - because one has always had to struggle. Confidence is an illusion. Advisers and DDOs* should really be looking for competence.
2. Don't have people with grand titles as BAP advisers. Or if they are, just let them say they're called "Jim". Unless they're women of course. But then, I'm not going to oppress them. Jim it is. Best of all, get some people with local accents and let them be BAP advisers. If you're from a working class town and you end up talking to an adviser who lives in a limestone cottage in a rural village - what's that going to tell you?
3. Consider working-class attitudes to education, training and relocation. To a posh chap from Wiltshire, who spent three years at Durham University, another two years at "Staggers" might sound quite reasonable. To a working-class woman from Swindon, it might seem like an alien existence.
4. Don't use stupid, public-school terminology like "Staggers".
5. Likewise, consider time constraints and flexibility in training. A shop manager will have the team-building, leadership and - let's face it - entrepreneurial skills to be a good minister. In this world of dispersed courses, with maybe fortnightly getting-together for seminars and residential weekends - how do you give them the chance to get there?
6. That and times ten for a single parent with a job.
7. And if you're asking yourself "should a single parent with a job or a shop manager with shifts be even considering ministry?" then you're part of the problem.  
8. And don't diss non-residential training. As the Church of England becomes more like the Flyte family, clinging to genteel existence while having no money and living off appearances and the past, economics are important. And yes I know that even using this reference has put a certain stamp on me. And no I don't care. It was deliberate. 
9. Consider the "Common People" syndrome. Well-heeled types might feel called to inner-city or working-class estate ministry. But they are also essentially aliens there. This means they are likely never truly part of that community - they are always "ministering" to the "ministered".  Is that the model of church we want? And, like the Greek with a thirst for knowledge who studied sculpture at St Martin's College, if the worst comes to worst there's a good chance they can call their daddy, who'll stop it all. Somebody who came from that neighbourhood will see it differently. They'll know not to trust the locals. They might decide they'd rather do anything than go back there. But they will, like it not, belong. Or they might really want something rather different.
10. During preaching training, telling someone they should "enunciate better" really means that they should sound more like you. And if you say like Prince Charles that's not necessarily a good thing. Apart from Prince Charles, obviously. But if he's training for the ministry then (a) you know there really is a problem with class and (b) he's decided his mum's going to live forever. Good luck to her, I say. Gord bless 'er.
11. Sherry receptions at residential weekends? Really? Do you know what century it is?

* Diocesan Directors of Ordinands - clerical talent-spotters

---

Want to support this blog? Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you. From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.