The Anglican earthquake
Recognising same-sex unions
The door has been left ajar, but Sara and Alex won’t be back. They don’t feel welcome. Sara Rimmer and Alex Saunders are lesbians. Both were raised as Christians, Saunders in an Anglican family.
The couple wanted to get married last year in St Peter’s Anglican Church in
Paeka¯ ka¯ riki, north of Wellington.
Rimmer wasn’t too worried about the venue, but it was important to her partner.
‘‘I remember waking up one morning after a discussion about who we wanted as our celebrant,’’ says Saunders, ‘‘and I didn’t want to just get a run-ofthe mill legal celebrant or get married in a registry office, and I realised it’s because marriage to me has always been a union under God, that was the phrase that stuck in my head.
‘‘I realised I needed to get married in a church, and that I’m far more religious than I ever realised.’’
Both were new to the area and keen to join the congregation to show their commitment. Trouble was, the congregation wasn’t so keen on them.
It’s a long story of backwards and forwards, one step up and two back, people keen to help . . . but the short answer was that the door was politely, firmly closed.
‘‘There were claims that the church was not fire-rated or earthquake-safe for the number of people who were going to attend the wedding . . . but [we heard] some of the Presbyterian members of the congregation didn’t want it to happen.’’
It took some doing, but the couple did get their ceremony in an Anglican church, at Old St Paul’s in Wellington. ‘‘It’s still a consecrated site, it’s still an Anglican church, but because it’s run by Heritage NZ, who are not bound by any religious policy, we were able to get married there.’’
The couple were refused in Paeka¯ ka¯ riki because, at that point, the Anglican Church officially defined marriage as being ‘‘between a man and a woman’’. It was a policy issue settled by a 2014 ruling that kept the door shut for many same-sex couples.
That changed just a couple of weeks ago, when the General Synod, the church’s version of parliament, approved Motion 29. The ruling means same-sex couples still can’t get married in an Anglican church, but they can now get a post-wedding blessing. That’s only if a bishop, after consulting his or her diocese leaders, allows it, although any member of the clergy can perform a blessing or refuse one and they will face no sanction.
Church leaders are claiming a ‘‘significant step’’.
Saunders says it’s a ‘‘shame’’ and doesn’t go far enough in a country where same-sex unions are now legal.
She and Rimmer won’t be back. Neither will their children. And they don’t want a blessing from the church.
‘‘I don’t want to upset anybody any further than I need to. It’s upsetting . . . I’d love to be able to go with my family, and have been invited by members to come along, but I do know there are people who don’t believe that the way that I live is an acceptable way to live, and I don’t want to expose my children to that.’’ That’s exactly what Philip Richardson doesn’t want to hear. The Anglican Archbishop of New Zealand says Motion 29 was a carefully considered, long-thought-out mechanism to unite the church in rapidly changing times.
The trouble for Saunders, Rimmer and many others is that churches don’t do rapid. What Richardson claims as a ‘‘significant step’’ for the church has been reached by a decadeslong process.
‘‘We’ve been working since the 1970s around trying to understand, gaining as much knowledge from science, from reading of scripture, from trying to understand context.’’
He says the church supported law reform in the 1980s that decriminalised homosexuality. That movement gained more momentum in the past decade, with further changes to New Zealand legislation, culminating with the Marriage (Definition of Marriage) Amendment Act 2013, which legalised same-sex unions.
Anglican forums included the Ma Whea? (Where to?) commission travelling the country to hear submissions on the subject; a doctrine commission looking at the biblical and theological issues around same-sex blessings and ordination; and another working group called The Way Forward, which put recommendations to the 2016 synod.
Those centred around two ‘‘very clear, irreconcilable positions: one which said scripture was unequivocal and homosexual activity was sinful; and another that you need to read this alongside the big, broader themes of the scripture’’.
The overriding issue, says Richardson, was finding ‘‘a way to structure our life in the church which can hold that level of divergence in the same family; do we have to fracture, do we have to split, does there have to be winners and losers?’’
The latter seemed the most likely in 2016, when the General Synod deemed the potential for upheaval too great. ‘‘So we pressed the pause button.’’
They finally found The Way Forward in New Plymouth two weeks ago, when the new ‘‘legislation’’ was passed unanimously by church leaders.
Richardson is proud of the achievement and the thought
behind it, but concedes it will not be enough for those seeking greater progress.
However, he is reluctant to call it a compromise. ‘‘That might suggest to people who hold very strong views that they have compromised, but I don’t think they have at all.
‘‘What the proposals have achieved is a framework going forward that will allow those genuinely held, deeply held views to be respected and held within the same church without compromising the views.’’
The archbishop is picking his words as carefully as the church he represents picked its way through the new policy.
Congregations around the country now get to have their say on Motion 29. Bishops and dioceses that disagree with the move can refuse to give the blessing, without fear of disciplinary action. For those parishes and the same-sex couples in their area, nothing appears to have changed.
Jem Traylen, however, believes progress has been made.
The board member of LGBTI+ advocacy group Rainbow Wellington was raised as an Anglican and understands the slow pace of pastoral change.
‘‘It’s the same with every rainbow issue: we’re making slow progress, very slow progress, particularly on transgender issues, but progress is progress and this is how it happens.’’
She understands the church’s need to compromise but believes greater change is just around the corner.
‘‘I reckon you go one more generation because it’s just the elders of the church who are the main people holding things up, and it’s the same with any queer issue, it’s always been the older you are the more you grew up in a homophobic world; the younger you are, it’s like what the hell is the problem?
‘‘Just get on with it, it’s like stop holding up progress for your own selfish, egotistical reasons, and start living the gospel teaching, which is love.’’
Richardson is worried that love will be in short supply as the wider church reacts to the change. Parishes in Polynesia, where homosexual activity is still illegal in places, have already said no.
Dioceses closer to home are threatening to quit and split over the decision, even though they have the option to say no.
In Canterbury, Rakaia vicars Al Drye, of St Mark’s Church, and Shirley Jay Behan, of St Stephen’s Church, have both resigned.
Behan is chair of the Fellowship of Confessing Anglicans New Zealand, a conservative group that opposes same-sex blessings. In a statement the group said it greeted the synod vote with ‘‘deep sadness’’.
‘‘We are ready to support people and parishes that cannot remain within this changed Anglican structure,’’ it stated. ‘‘We will work together nationally and internationally to provide fellowship and support as we look towards new ways and structures of ministering the unchanging good news of Jesus.’’
Other South Island dioceses are understood to be opposed and are considering their options.
Richardson concedes that Nelson is ‘‘a conservative, evangelical diocese, and they’ve said very clearly that we’re not going to go down this direction’’.
‘‘There may be individuals in that diocese that support a progressive or liberal view, but this will not be possible.’’
Bishop of Dunedin Steven Benford has urged parishioners not to leave. He understands the objections of some, based on their understanding of the Bible and scripture. He believes they may quit the church.
‘‘For some people things seem very clear and to actually move to allowing same-sex relationships is difficult, and then to bless it in the name of the church, when people are viewing something as sinful, is very, very difficult.’’
But he believes many don’t understand that people within the church have the right to say no to conducting the blessings. ‘‘The whole point of the way the motion has been put up and drafted is that there is to be no compulsion.’’
And he doesn’t expect to be run off his feet by same-sex couples seeking Anglican validation anyway. ‘‘People can make applications to me for a same-sex blessing . . . but I’m not looking to encourage Vegas-style chapels because I’ve given blanket approval.
‘‘I understand that it is coming from within a congregation . . . and they could approach their vestry and I would ask for a minuted resolution to say they support it, and their vicar would also have to be prepared to conduct it, and then they could approach me for my consideration.’’
Further north, they are ready to roll out the red carpet for same-sex couples.
In another sign of the quiet civil war set to erupt, Auckland vicar Helen Jacobi has labelled the South Island dissent as ‘‘pathetic’’, given the same-sex proposal was ‘‘weakened’’, ‘‘watered down’’ and unlikely to appeal to many gay and lesbian couples anyway.
It’s the kind of reaction Richardson and other church leaders were so keen to avoid.
‘‘Being a church that can hold differences together, that can hold divisions together, in a world that’s fractured and divided over all sorts of things, is in itself a really important model of what we can be as a society,’’ Richardson says.
‘‘It’s really important we don’t exclude people because of who they are or what they think. That is central to the life of a church.’’
Alex Saunders believes the church still has something to offer, even though it is struggling to find a place for her family.
‘‘I do think that religion or spirituality has a place in people’s lives, and it would be nice to see modern religious institutions reflect the social mood of a nation, and also the congregation of their area.’’
Richardson says church leaders considered the Anglican three-legged stool when making their controversial decision: scripture, tradition and reason.
He hopes all three legs will be strong enough to carry the weight and burden of that controversy. And keep balance in the church.