So here we are, two weeks to go until the November meeting of General Synod when expectations that had been laid in 1997 when the Archbishops announced their determination to lead the way to a radical new Christian inclusion in the Church might, or might not be fulfilled.

And here we are, thinking that finally, the Archbishops of Canterbury and York might lead the House of Bishops, and the House of Clergy, and the House of Laity, to vote by a two thirds majority in each House to agree a settlement that would bring to an end over half a century of reports, conversations and processes leading to the recognition that LGBTQIA+ people are fully and equally welcomed into the kingdom of God and God’s Holy Catholic Church – or at least the Church of England bit of the Anglican bit of the Church Catholic – and disunited.

And the Archbishops know they can’t achieve the radical inclusion vision, and the College and House of Bishops are in disarray (thanks for the revelations, Church Times), and fantasise that they could gain approval to allow clergy to enter same-sex marriages if not now, then in 2025, and everyone is saying, oh no you can’t! And advocates for LGBTQIA+ equality are wondering what we might be able to do, tactically, at this Synod meeting, not to achieve our objectives, but to keep the show on the road and rescue the Archbishops and bishops from their failure to deliver a radical new Christian inclusion. It’s your vision, a good, healthy Christian vision that you are failing to deliver, Archbishops and bishops.

The bishops are in emotional and spiritual disarray. Each day new letters are sent, new revelations and developments reported, new threats issued, and I have struggled to make sense of what is going on from my radical, spiritual, contemplative, campaigning perspective. My feelings of disarray and distress continued until this morning, when I read a review of a book detailing the history of Britain from 1962 to1965.

Sixties energy

It was the era of Honest to God, That Was The Week That Was, the Profumo scandal, the Beeching railway cuts, the Beetles, Doctor Who, Ready Steady Go, The Likely Lads, Top of the Pops and Match of the Day, Oh, What a Lovely War. It was for me a period of liberation and daring, of new creative adventures in the church as much as in the theatre, the visual arts, fashion, television, the movies, and music. It was also the era of the Soviet Missile Crisis (October 1963), of a Labour election victory (1964, with a slender majority of four) after thirteen years of Conservative rule. It concluded with Winston Churchill’s death at the age of ninety in January 1965. I remember those years with pleasure and forget the tensions and dramas - the Cuban Missile Crisis. The book review recalls an elderly diarist writing about Churchill’s death as “the final act in Britain’s greatness”, “sobering”, “but we have been pronounced dead before and been buried and there has been a resurrection”.

Will there be a 2023-25 resurrection in the Church of England? In Israel/Palestine relationships? In Russian/Ukraine/Europe relationships? In Democrat/Republican sanity? In quality of life in the UK? In green policies? Today, I feel sober. The climate crisis, the possibility of a second Trump term, the uncertain though hopeful outcome of a UK election in 2024, the crisis in Gaza, the continuing if at present out of the headlines war in Ukraine, and the uncertainty of the outcome at Synod of the LLF process shade me with gloom and anxiety.

Black Holes and White Holes

This morning I read another book review in the Observer, of Carlo Rovelli’s White Holes: Inside the Horizon in which, as the review says, Rovelli takes us into the heart of a black hole and out of the other side. Rovelli gives a glimpse . . .

“into the mind of a physicist working at the edges of the known universe, and the fundamental insecurity of creating groundbreaking theories and then putting them out there like clay pigeons launched from a trap. It’s a strange duality. One the one hand you have to be rock solid sure of the ideas you propose. But on the way to assembling them – and afterwards – you have to have the discipline to doubt them and continue to test them as fiercely as your staunchest rivals might.”

The mind of the physicist and this Christian contemplative are similar. Any contemplative is living and praying at the edges of a known universe – the Christian story and tradition as understood in and at the edges of contemporary society, in our experience of the beyond, knowing it in the depths of our bodies and emotions. Contemplative prayer takes us towards the fundamental insecurities and anxieties of being human. In stillness and silence groundbreaking awareness can become present in the form of visions and prophecy. There is a strange duality of deep trust in the presence of love, goodness and wisdom, rock solid, combined with disciplined doubt and a fierce personal testing of the truth of this real presence.

As I settled to meditate this morning I found again the inner energies and streamings in my body that flow when I am more deeply present and open to the fundamental insecurity of what I experience as the divine, holy, “God presence” that brings me to life in all its fullness. The LLF conflicts had overwhelmed the flow of God’s energy and life within me and within which I am immersed. This morning, it became present again, this experience of being in the place where black holes and white holes flow seamlessly the one into the other.

Yet another meeting

Representatives from progressive organisations have been invited to meet the Archbishop of Canterbury at Lambeth Palace on Friday afternoon, 3rd November. I am going to the meeting to represent Changing Attitude England. Presumably conservative leaders will be meeting the Archbishop in the morning. This seems to be another last ditch attempt to resolve the as yet unreconciled hopes and expectations before the General Synod meeting now less than two weeks away.

I would Synod to find the courage to confront the fear and anxiety, doubt and uncertainty that both morning and afternoon groups will probably join the Archbishop and House of bishops in wishing away. Life would be so much easier if both sides could achieve certainty in any agreement reached by Synod. But we are not called to certainty. We are called to faith and love. As a gay contemplative activist I believe the path to the kingdom of God leads always through a wilderness of unknowing, learning to let go, let go in faith, hope and trust, let go, if we can, of fears and anxieties, but not letting go of the desire for life in all its fullness, of faith, hope and love, of which the greatest is love – unconditional, infinite, intimate love.

I live on the edge; the edge of a village, the edge of a field, the edge of the church; but not on the edge of commitment to opening myself to God, to stillness and silence, to the mystery, to creating space where mystery becomes presence, energy, physical, grounded, streaming. It may or may not be the real thing. Are you the way, the truth and the life? “Come and see”.

Resurrection

Can the hierarchy of the Church of England take us deep into the black hole, with courage deep enough to lead us into the unimaginable white hole through and beyond which lies the experience and reality named resurrection? I wish Synod would bring coherence and finality to a process that began with a profound vision, radical new Christian inclusion, and with a trust that bringing people together would gradually transform and melt differences in the context of Christian love and prayer. I wish Synod would find a way to create a Christian environment radically inclusive for LGBTQIA+ people, celebrating equal marriage and giving equality in ministry, including marriage, to LGBTQIA+ clergy and lay ministers.

I long for a healthier church. At the moment, the church is a very unhealthy institution. I want the church to be released from over half a century of attempting to find a way towards recognising and positively valuing, affirming and welcoming the LGBTQIA+ people, we who have always been integral to the life of the church and the world – and have often been the prophetic givers of new life.

I don’t know how to achieve this or whether, in my lifetime, it will be achieved.