‘There are days when I’d rather not be doing this’
Stephen Cottrell, who takes over as Archbishop of York this week, is frank about his life as a priest
‘The nation has lost its connection to Christianity. The Church shares responsibility for that, and that is the challenge’
The in-tray is already overflowing. When Bishop Stephen Cottrell heads north this week to become the 98th Archbishop of York, there will be a pile of matters needing his urgent attention. There’s dealing with the financial fallout of Covid-19 for the 589 churches in his new diocese; the Black Lives Matter rows over inappropriate statues and memorials which has put the statue of Emperor Constantine outside York Minster in the spotlight, and the controversy over York-based Nestlé planning to no longer make KitKats with Fairtrade cocoa and sugar.
For a man who has always insisted on one day a month to do nothing but contemplate and loathes the term “hit the ground running”, it looks as if there is no alternative but for Stephen Cottrell to get stuck in as he begins work in York. “Yes, the forces are railed against me on that one”, he says. “It just couldn’t be busier”.
The Archbishop of York is the second most important Anglican post after Archbishop of Canterbury and usually installation of the new Archbishop is one of the grandest ceremonies the Church organises.
Thousands of people cram into the Gothic wonder of York Minster, and await the tradition of the new Archbishop banging three times with his crosier on the West Door to be let in. On Thursday, there will be a pared-down service. Despite church services with congregations starting again, Bishop Contrell will have a simple ceremony of confirmation of election live online with barely anyone in the Minster. He will take the Archbishop’s crosier from the altar and bang on the door from the inside. It will then open to the world outside.
“I like that. It recognises what a step it is going into a church when you are not used to it. We have to go out to people from the borderlands”.
The crosier he will pick up was left on the altar three weeks ago by his predecessor, John Sentamu, the most high-profile black cleric in the Church of England, as he completed his term of office as Archbishop of York. Now, just as Black Lives Matter is raising the issue of lack of diversity and racism in Britain, Sentamu is retiring, with a white bishop succeeding him.
Cottrell agrees that there is a need for more diversity and he is sensitive to emotions running high – something that has led to calls for the statue of Constantine outside the Minster to come down on the grounds that the Emperor condoned slavery. “It seems a manufactured row,” says Cottrell, “but I will look into it. We need to understand the context of monuments.”
Another row facing him as he arrives in York, long associated with chocolate manufacture through Rowntree, Terry’s and Fry’s, is that Nestlé, that took over Rowntree, has just announced it is planning to no longer use Fairtrade sugar and cocoa in its chocolate production. With one billion KitKats a year made in York, Fairtrade campaigners are already calling for a change of heart.
“I’m completely in favour of fair trade; again, I’m going to look into it,” he says. “I am clear that wherever possible we need to use Fairtrade.”
Then there are the problems that the Church of England itself will face in coming months. Lockdown put paid to congregations attending church which left collection plates empty. Tourist admission income has dried up at the Minster, and with a £5.2m deficit, has left it unable to sustain the Minster School, which provides its choristers, and the school has closed down. Cottrell knows hard decisions have to be made.
“I’m not convinced that [church] closures will happen,” he says, citing instead ideas for lay-led churches and “festival churches” – only open for big occasions such as Easter and Christmas.
The Church of England was heavily criticised for its full lockdown of churches, with every service moving online via priests’ kitchen tables, despite Government guidance allowing ministers to celebrate services alone in church.
But Cottrell defends the decision. “That call was made in order to show solidarity with everyone. The numbers who then tuned in to digital services was nothing short of amazing. In the future there is going to a mixed ecology of online and church.”
Cottrell is an unlikely senior figure in the Church of England. He attended a secondary modern and then the Polytechnic of Central London. His family was only vaguely Christian and he was drawn to the church through fancying a girl at youth group and, later, Robert Powell’s portrayal of Christ in
He was ordained in 1985, and then appointed Bishop of Reading in 2004.
He became Bishop of Chelmsford in 2010 before being appointed to the ancient see of York.
Now 61, more than 30 years of priesthood makes him a seasoned cleric – but life has not always been easy. He is frank about personal difficulties, admitting to moments of bleakness, when belief is a struggle and responsibility is onerous.
“Being a priest carries an enormous burden of pain. We deal with things each day that are dark and difficult,” he says, and one can imagine that dealing with Covid-19 bereavements and suffering has been particularly hard.
“There have been days,” he says of priesthood, “when I’d rather not be doing this”.
As Archbishop of York, the burdens of office will increase. He will become a public figure, his opinion sought on all kinds of issues, from the ethical to the spiritual. “The nation has lost its connection to Christianity,” he says. “The Church shares responsibility for that and that is the challenge.”
Being in York will be a nostalgic experience for him and his wife Rebecca who visited the city during their Yorkshire honeymoon 36 years ago. He will be taking with him a little wooden altar made by his carpenter father, John, which he shows me by Zoom.
Cottrell’s plans for a pilgrimage, prior to his arrival in York had to change. Instead of walking from his home in Essex to York, he had to make daylong pilgrimages near Chelmsford. Some people thought he would delay taking over in York until he could have a grand enthronement.
But instead he has opted for a simpler ceremony befitting the times. “The symbolism of that will be very powerful,” he says. “I hope it will strike a chord.”
‘Being a priest carries an enormous burden of pain. We deal with things each day that are dark and difficult’