Religious in General Synod

by Father Aidan Mayoss CR

In 1997, Church House issued a report from a review group which suggested the General Synod of the Church of England should be smaller in size. The recommendations included Religious Communities’ representation being reduced from five to three members, and if accepted, this would be implemented with effect from 2005. At a time too when many urge Religious to ‘work on the margins’ of society, Father Aidan Mayoss CR (one of the serving General Synod representatives for Religious) reflects on the presence of Religious at the heart of the Church’s government.

At the thought of Religious being in the General Synod in particular, and the corridors of power in general, many, both within and without the Religious Life, think (if they do not actually utter) the words of Psalm 131:

‘Lord, I am not high-minded, I have no proud looks.
I do not exercise myself in great matters, in things that are too high for me.’

In 1919, when the Enabling Act set up the Church Assembly, and thus for the first time brought the laity into the governance of the Church of England, there was no specific place allotted to lay Religious, their only way forward would be to take pot luck through the diocesan system. As far as I am aware none did. For the clergy, provided that you were licensed by a bishop, you could stand and vote in the elections for Convocations. A few did. With the setting up of the General Synod in 1970, provision was made for Religious to form one of several special constituencies and elect their own representatives, one clerical and one lay for the Northern province and the same for the south. Later, a second lay representative was added for the Southern province, making a total of five. Even under new proposals, aimed at reducing total numbers on Synod, Religious remain almost the sole special constituency, and would be given three representatives (one clerical, two lay). So we are there by right. The Church still wants us there, as a constituent representing an often hidden part of itself.
In the 1940s and 1950s, men like Gregory Dix OSB and Raymond Raynes CR were the leaders of the catholic wing of the Church, not just organising opposition to the church unity scheme in South India, but providing balanced, considered and frequently witty speeches, which were listened to, admired and often acted upon. For both of these men, debate was something at which they excelled. The time was also ripe. Things are different now and the debating chamber is but a small part of the work done by many members of Synod. We come together twice a year: for the inside of a week at Westminster and four days over a weekend at York.
On these occasions we are on display and a lot of work is done. All have their parts to play, and there are occasional contributions from Religious in the debating chamber. We are not given to the common synodical fault of ‘not being heard for their much speaking’, but, because of our different perspective, at times we are able to illuminate what is before the house, quite apart from any special expertise one or another of us might have. Mission, liturgy, spirituality, theological education and ecumenism are more to our taste than pensions, churchwardens, or some of the other matters on the Synod agenda.
This is the ‘up-front’ bit, and, popularly I suppose, a bit like the House of Commons; influence and significance are judged by the amount of times one has been successful in catching the chair’s eye, inventing amendments which will ensure that one speaks, or asking difficult questions of those in authority. This is not, however, the main work.
The committees of the General Synod are a key to its work. Even under the Turnbull Report's proposals for change, there will still be committees and working parties on which Synod members are expected to serve. Synod members are elected to these committees by their fellow members in elections which are keenly contested. As representatives of Synod, those elected are committed to a heavy workload, co-operating with the staff who run the Church’s departments and they have the responsibility for the right use of the Church’s resources of people and money, as well as sometimes initiating new responses to different situations. It is in this sort of work, as well as the informal connections that result in living alongside one another for the four days (at York especially) that brains are picked, experience drawn out and friendships developed across what, in another place, would be called ‘party lines’.
Time was when the Religious in the Church Assembly led the Catholic wing; now we belong to more than one of the several ‘parties’ and groupings: Catholic, Affirming Catholic, Open Synod, Open Evangelical and the more conservative Evangelical group, and no doubt more. There is help and strength to be gained from membership of these groups, but it is rare, if at all, that they vote to a man or a woman the same way, according to the party line. Ideally, we should never have to vote at all in a Christian assembly, but it does help, in some matters at least, to have a clear indication of the mind of Synod, and it is necessary if this is a matter which has to go on to be laid before Parliament before changing the teaching of the Church, its authorised services, or the way in which we do things. It is significant that sometimes the vote belies the voices from the floor, whose shrillness is discovered to belong to no more than a tiny minority.
I think two basic questions still remain. Why should there be Religious in the Synod at all? Is it right that we should be involved in this sort of decision-making?
Those who drew up membership of Synod and those who approve it, obviously thought, and still think, that Religious should have a place. We are not part of the day-to-day structures of parish, deanery and diocese, so we cannot be threatened by the ‘system’, nor can we be promoted through it. We have no need to be ‘noticed’ – although I have had my summer habit, worn at York in the usual heat wave, described as ‘power dressing’. It is very difficult to describe the gifts that we have from our different – but certainly not better – commitment to the Christian life and to the Church. We are also the representatives of Religious and can make the concerns and requests of our electorate known. After a while we learn our way around and whom to ask about what, which is much more effective than making a great fuss or putting someone ‘on the spot’. Some of us have a particular interest or skill and it is right this should be used for the Church at large. Whilst this could be done by co-option, it is far better that Synod has an elected member around in the corridors (or, at York, lakeside and bars). These corridors are not ones of ‘power’ but of responsibility, interest and friendship, and where a great deal of Synod work is done.
But the question still remains: should we be there at all? One remembers Lord Acton’s phrase that power corrupts. So is Synod membership corrupting? Well, it certainly can be. For some members, Synod seems to loom larger in their lives than it ought. Here I am not writing about the wholly admirable staff, but members who seem ever to be thinking up questions, seeking the eye of the chair, and writing to members in between sessions (this is sometimes with first-class postage and 26p x 570 is £148.20). Maybe the proposed new electoral system, when passed, will remove some if not all of them. We Religious, who live according to the rule of our communities and orders, are not free agents to do as we please. Time occupied by Synod and committees, groups and working parties, has to be balanced by the other things that we are called upon to do, nor must it erode our commitment to the immediate worship and service of God. If it does that then it is we, not the Synod, that have got things wrong. It does and should take up time, and some things that once I did I can no longer do, but I would hate to feel that Synod is taking all my time and strength and energy. For if it were, I don’t think I would be right to stay in it. A balance has to be struck and maintained.
I was elected to the Advisory Board of Ministry and within that Board I serve on a sub-committee to do with pre-theological education. Not only does the Community of the Resurrection have a long history of theological education, it has run a pre-theological education scheme. In my other work in parishes and retreats and spiritual direction, I come across people who might develop a vocation to ministry and those already ordained who share with me the joys and difficulties of their experience. So the time spent on reading Synod reports, and helping to form a mind on the matter, has a value for my other work.
My experience of Synod is that the Religious are valued by those who understand what we are about – although, alas, there are many who don’t, as yet, know all that much. But we are used. Our perspective is different from the experience of the vowed life. In some ways we have a duty to be the ‘gadfly on the body politic’, possibly to have a prophetic rôle warning Synod. Being on General Synod also means that one is on the Diocesan Synod and the Deanery Synod too. Wearisome and irrelevant as these bodies often are, the presence of Religious is valued there too and we need to be seen as part of the Church. If we, as we surely should, long for an increase in vocations, the Synods are one place where we are on display in a very non-upfront way.
Synod membership is a responsibility which is placed upon us by our fellow Religious. Under the proposed changes, with fewer representatives, I hope that we shall have more elections. For it is no use moaning about the way the Church is going if once every five years, at the time of the elections, brothers and sisters have to have their arms twisted to stand. I firmly believe that we ought to be there, despite the fact that at times it can be harassing and lonely. Synod members who are Religious are not trespassing in the corridors of power, but representatives of a part of the living Church, who both deserve and need lots of prayers.