
I’m going up to London to have lunch with the three minute theologian today. Doubtless we shall continue our plotting to murder George Herbert….
Category Archives: ministry
A brief theological sketch about supervisions
Last week I attended a training course at Pleshey (part 2 of ‘how to look after your curate’ although it wasn’t officially called that). This post explains my disquiet about one aspect of the course – click ‘full post’ for text.
This part of the course was primarily about the art of supervisions, how to conduct the regular meetings between training incumbent and curate in such a way that the curacy ‘succeeds’. There was a strong sense that the Diocese has been a little scarred by, some years back, a high number of curacies ‘failing’ – hence a renewed emphasis on the training of the incumbents who are due to receive a curate for training.
However, I was a little alarmed that in the opening session we ventured straight into various secular analyses of supervision which, however worthy, are not automatically entitled to be accepted within the church. I asked whether we were going to spend any time exploring the theology of supervisions and it seemed that apart from a minimal engagement with some passages from Mark’s gospel, we weren’t. This I see as a typical example of the way in which training as a whole in the Church of England is not just theologically lightweight but prone to being captured by secular philosophies travelling under the guise of ‘professionalism’.
What I want to do in this post is sketch out the sort of theological framework that would need to be explored prior to engaging with the secular perspectives. I have no doubt that secular perspectives have much to contribute to the conversation, it’s just that I believe we need to ‘arm ourselves with the Word’ before engaging with them, so that our minds are attuned to what is compatible with our faith and what is not. I don’t have any especial expertise in this area so this is really a requested agenda in four parts, to be developed by those who are more qualified.
First: I would want to establish the essential groundwork, which would be something about relationships. We worship the one God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, a God who is relational within Himself – and therefore relationships are at the heart of the Christian life. What we have in the supervision is above all a particular and intense form of relationship. Clearly there is a lot of relationship between incumbent and curate that will happen outside of the supervision, but the supervision is when it will come under the microscope, and where there is the greatest opportunity for serious and prayerful growth, so I would want to make this the first theological point: that paying attention to the quality of the relationship between curate and incumbent, and ensuring that it functions well, is the primary task of the supervision process. This can then be developed by describing the particular characteristics that would enable the relationship to function well, eg that it should be truthful (for the truth sets us free) and that it should be loving in the way that Christ embodied etc.
Second: I would want to explore ‘the Eli principle’. What I have in mind is the passage in Samuel where Samuel receives his call from God. Eli is in the supervisory relationship and he at first sees the call that Samuel receives as an irritation (it disturbs his sleep – a theologically significant description). However, when Eli eventually recognises that God is present in the process he enables Samuel to listen to God and to follow his own vocation, at great personal cost. This seems to me to be the essential aspect to emphasise at the heart of the supervisory relationship: that God has a particular call on the curate’s life, and that this does not necessarily travel through the incumbent. The relationship of incumbent to curate is not that of parent to child, but that of midwife to child – with God as the parent. The task of the incumbent is to enable the particular vocation that God has implanted within the curate to come to flower. As with Eli, this may be a costly endeavour.
Third: I find it remarkable that there was no time on the course when incumbents were enabled to spend time with the ordinal, exploring the different elements contained within it. That could easily be covered in a session like this – or, even better, used as the framework for all the worship elements through the two parts of the course. That was a missed opportunity I think.
Finally: I would want to explicitly articulate and own the different varieties of ministry that are possible within the parameters of the ordinal. I was concerned on the course that there was often a tacit acceptance of the George Herbert model of ministry, even if it was often in the context of the more mature members lamenting the way in which the ‘new generation’ didn’t respect it. It would have been helpful if we had spent time considering the New Testament passages describing a variety of ministries, eg the five-fold division listed in Ephesians. This may have had a direct and positive practical impact in enabling the ‘Eli principle’ that I mentioned above. It would also have been a good opportunity to touch on wider issues, eg mission and the changed context of a post-Christendom church, which have a very real salience in the context where the curates will be working, and which therefore throw into question what sort of model of ministry should be followed by a curate.
I think a session devoted to exploring these elements would have been extremely beneficial. One of the best things about the course was the opportunity to hear people of widely differing churchmanships and experience discussing what it meant to train a curate. I think that conversation would have been enhanced if we had been able to share and debate the theological frameworks underlying our task as training incumbents.
Theology is not an academic subject
This is by way of an interim response to John’s comment. It’s a bit of a rant, and I’m sure that calm reflection would lead to rephrasings and more careful language, but I am more and more convinced of the main point as time goes on. (This is from my ‘Let us Be Human’ lectures.) Click ‘full post’ for text.
“Hear the word of the Lord O people of Israel for the Lord has an indictment against the inhabitants of the land. There is no faithfulness or loyalty and no knowledge of God in the land, swearing, lying and murder and stealing and adultery break out, bloodshed follows bloodshed, therefore the land mourns and all who live in it languish, together with the wild animals and the birds of the air, even the fish of the sea are perishing.” So what I said before about ecological crises and so on, links into faithfulness, righteousness, that the wider environment is giving feedback on the moral state of the people.
And it goes on “Let no-one contend and let none accuse – for with you is my contention O priest, you shall stumble by day, the prophet also shall stumble with you by night and I will destroy your mother,” which is Israel or the church, “My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge. Because you have rejected knowledge, I reject you from being a priest to me and since you have forgotten the law of your God, I also will forget your children, the more they increased, the more they sinned against me, they changed their glory into shame, they feed on the sin of my people, they are greedy for their iniquity and it shall be like people, like priest. I will punish them for their ways and repay them for their deeds.”
In other words all these things that are going wrong, it’s the priest’s fault. It’s because the people who have custody of the knowledge of God and whose duty it is to teach that knowledge of God and to train people in God’s ways – they have failed. So that’s the theme for this morning. I hope you excuse me if it becomes a little bit of a rant. Hopefully my spleen will last long enough to keep us going to half past ten but I might run out, anyhow….
“My people perish for lack of knowledge.” I have been talking about idolatry a lot, that idolatry is when we get our priorities wrong. That we give too much importance to things which aren’t that important and we don’t give enough importance to that which is most important – which is the love of God and the love of neighbour. These two sides of the same coin. And the role of the religious authorities is precisely to teach people about what is important and what is not important, because this is what leads to life. This is the task of the religious teacher. To enable the life of the faithful. It is not simply about filling heads with words. It’s about changing the shape of the lived out faith in order that the life itself is fruitful, and the church, small c, has manifestly failed….
Next heresy: the academy. One of the major ones which definitely makes me angry. Theology is not an academic subject. It is not something which accepts the norms and the authorities which are accepted in the academy. And in one sense the origin of everything that has gone wrong with the church in the last thousand years is that theology got shifted from the cloister, from the Eucharistic community, into the academy. It got divorced from the practice of Christian life and worship and this happened in the Middle Ages, around 1100, the rise of Scholasticism, a change in the way that theology was understood, the way it changed the way that God was understood, and suddenly you have this very abstract understanding of the faith coming in, which has all sorts of barbarous consequences. I’ve gone into this in other sessions before, I am sure that I will go into it again, but atheism for example is the direct consequence of theology forgetting what it is there for. That the defence of the belief in God didn’t rest in Scripture or revelation, but rested on academic, philosophical proofs. And this process went on over centuries and culminates in secularism and atheism. The idea that this is just an abstract sense of what you can believe. This is where things really started to go wrong. And of course what it has meant is that theology and the teaching of theology has been absorbed by modernism, by the philosophical agenda arising in the seventeenth century. And the sense that theology or faith is a thing about private preference, that theology is all well and good but keep it to yourself. You know, what I was saying about Qutb last week, I’ve got a lot of sympathy with some of the things he says.
But theology is rotten. Fortunately this is starting to be understood, but things like how you train priests, how you train the clergy, you are not going to get faithful ministers if you train them in academic criticism of the Bible. This might sound like a really obvious thing, but the way in which clergy are trained in the Church of England, and also in many other denominations, is through the academic study of texts. I think there is only one theological college in England which does it properly and that’s Mirfield. Has anyone heard of Mirfield? The community of the resurrection. And their emphasis – they don’t have lots of teams of cleaners and cooking people, working for the students to make sure they can concentrate on the academic study of the text, they have the students looking after each other, they clean their own rooms, they actually live out a life of service. That is what is shaping them to be priests….
Pleshey

My course was a little disappointing and I left early (primarily because it was my day off). However I’ve got some further thoughts about the theology of being a training incumbent, which I’ll share when I have more time. I ended up giving a talk on Peak Oil in the middle of the course as well, which was a little odd…
Interesting thoughts about church size
At Bishop Alan’s blog here (and follow the links).
I think it’s true that you can’t be an effective pastor to a congregation of much more than about 60 adults; this ties in very strongly with things that Eugene Peterson teaches and, of course, with the Killing George Herbert approach.
Which means, in the Mersea context, that we need four or five ‘ministers’ for church to work, relational glue to be formed, and to ensure that people don’t fall through the cracks.
Hmm.
The Minster Model (March Synchroblog)
Before there were parishes in England, there were Minsters. ‘Minster’ is simply another word for monastery, or monastic community. However, these Minsters were not enclosed orders, they were instead the central social and economic hub for a network of communities. The Minster church was a place for pursuing worship, prayer, study and formation in discipleship. There was room for specialisation in ministries given the concentration of resources, and these served as a resource for the surrounding communities known as parochiae – what became the parishes. The Minster model was fundamentally missional in orientation and concerned with evangelising and nurturing those local communities.
The parish model succeeded the Minsters principally because the Minsters were successful in that evangelisation. The local communities, converted to the gospel, raised sufficient resource to employ their own local minister – often with the support of a wealthy local landlord who saw the establishment of a church on his land as a feather in his cap – and so, over time, was born the classic pattern of the English parson – the George Herbert model. In this context the work of the church was primarily one of pastoral care and maintenance, with the local minister being a more or less capable jack of all trades, providing for the sacramental and pastoral needs of the local community.
There are several pressures acting upon the church today which, to my mind, make the restoration of the Minster model the way forward for the church.
Amongst those pressures are:
– the contraction of clergy numbers over time. The broader pattern is familiar, but I was surprised to discover recently that the local pattern is more alarming than I had realised – the Colchester area (ie North Essex) is facing a decline in stipendiary clergy of two posts per year for the foreseeable future;
– the need for, and embrace of, the ministry of all the baptised, in this diocese called ‘Ministry as Partnership’, which has allowed a great many gifts to be explored and expressed in the life of the church;
– an acknowledgement of the collapse in Christian belief amongst the wider population, and therefore the necessity to shift to a more missional model of church.
We are now in a situation where the evangelistic success of the Minsters of England, a thousand years ago, has been destroyed. The population of England has just enough exposure and inherited acceptance of Christianity to inoculate it from genuine commitment and discipleship. In this context the inherited pattern of Christian life – local parishes and the George Herbert model of ministry – are incapable of being obedient to our Lord’s command to ‘go out and make disciples of all nations’.
Other people writing on related themes this month:
Phil Wyman at Phil Wyman’s Square No More
Beth at Until Translucent
Adam Gonnerman at Igneous Quill
Steve Hayes at Notes from the Underground
Jonathan Brink at JonathanBrink.com
Sally Coleman at Eternal Echoes
Brian Riley at at Charis Shalom
Cobus van Wyngaard at My Contemplations
Mike Bursell at Mike’s Musings
David Fisher at Cosmic Collisions
Alan Knox at The Assembling of the Church
Erin Word at Decompressing Faith
Sonja Andrews at Calacirian
TBTM20080304
All comments gratefully received
I’ve just received this e-mail, which I plan to reply to probably tomorrow, and I already have a good idea how I’m going to reply to it (it’s from somebody that I’ve met in real-life as opposed to over the internet!) but I’d be interested to know how other theologians/clerics would reply.
I wonder if I can ask you about something which is puzzling me, and which I cannot ask the average Christian. I do not expect the average Christian to have read Leviticus 25, but I assume that one does not become a vicar without reading the complete Bible.
While browsing your site I found “3rd November – shibboleth #1 – “But the Bible says…” “. Were Leviticus 25 verses 20 and 21 amongst those discussed.
I find these verses very interesting. It is the only place I can think of where God makes a clear promise that something verifiable will happen at a regular time, i.e. every 7 years the crops in Israel will yield “the fruits of 3 years”. It is also the only promise which is not dependant on the behaviour or belief of people. God promises the bumper harvest so that the following year the Israelites will be able to keep the commandment to let the land lie fallow.
God clearly does not keep this promise. Charitable appeals are made to support the farmers who do keep the Shmitta year, and the Rabbis and Israeli Supreme court jump through hoops to keep most Israelis from obeying the restrictions in Leviticus 25. I have asked several people who claim that the restrictions should be observed if they can give any figures to show how harvests vary over the years. They have all been silent.
Christianity requires that one has faith that God will keep His promises. How do you and other thinking Christians cope with the fact that there is a clear promise which it is easy to prove God does not keep? (I don’t trust anyone who does not keep promises.)
en courage

A colleague mentioned – I suspect via Bob Jackson – that incumbents do their most substantial and creative work between 8 & 13 years in post (don’t ask me how they define that!). I find that a hopeful thought. I’ve been here four and a half years and I’m only now starting to see the shape and nature of what needs to be done. Still, God is manifestly in charge of the process and his timing is always perfect.
I feel a Maggie Thatcher moment coming on…
Just to explain that cryptic comment a few months ago 😉
I’m coming to the conclusion that the present distribution of parish share, most particularly as it affects the Mersea Benefice, is unfair not proportionate or reasonable, and that this has consequences for both my health and the health of the communities in which I serve.
First graph, with Mersea in dark blue. This gives the relationship between parish share and stipendiary posts (ie diocese-paid) using 2007 parish share figures. St John’s pays the largest share but has two posts, hence they don’t show up so strongly.
Second graph, giving the relationship between full time posts and church membership size. This one is more intriguing, but the figures aren’t quite so reliable as they are a mix of usual Sunday attendance (for those churches that filled out the questionnaire for the Deanery Plan) or Electoral Roll, which is rather a different number. However the larger churches did fill out the forms, so if anything this graph exaggerates the size of the smaller churches. Again, bear in mind that St John’s is divided by two, although it is (only just, grin!) the largest church in the Deanery.
This final table is simply re-ordering the data, using 2008 parish share figures, to give an indication of what each patch ‘pays’ for a clergyman. Again, bear in mind that the St John’s figure is half their parish share.
Deanery Balance 2008
|
Name of Benefice |
2008 share/ftsp – ascending order |
|
Greenstead St Andrew |
12678.5 |
|
Colchester St Barnabas Old Heath |
21708 |
|
Colchester New Town & The Hythe St Steph St Mary Mag & St Leonard |
27456 |
|
Fingringhoe St Andrew |
31337 |
|
Berechurch St Margaret w. St Michael |
33528 |
|
Myland St Michael |
36880 |
|
Colchester St Peter & St Botolph |
40082.67 |
|
Shrub End All Saints w St Cedds |
42570 |
|
Colchester, St James & St Paul w All Saints, St Nicholas & St Runwald |
46918 |
|
Wivenhoe St Mary Vn |
48004 |
|
Colchester Christ Church w St Mary at the Walls |
52391 |
|
Colchester St John & St Luke |
60043.5 |
|
Lexden St Leonard |
79033 |
|
Mersea Benefice |
82587 |
A different way to put this is to say that the Mersea benefice transfers around £50k into the central pot. Or, to explore that from a different direction, the Mersea benefice is equivalent to two other benefices put together – say Shrub End plus Fingringhoe (which would then match the number and variety of churches).
Is this reasonable? It’s true that there is now a large staff team here, but a) the associate priest is paid for by the parish (ie not included in the above figures) and subsidised by a former member of the congregation, an arrangement which won’t last for ever; and b) the system is kept in place by the support of a number of retired clergy – and is it fair to expect the system to keep going on the backs of those who have already given their life in ministry to the church? And there are other questions as well – nobody I speak to disputes the need for the stronger parishes to support the weaker, but at what point does that obligation become fulfilled? If places like Mersea (and Lexden and St John’s) are the ones upholding the diverse ministry across the Colchester area, does that support need to be done in the way it presently is done, or can it be done differently? And what happens when the this transfer of wealth becomes directly damaging to the donors, ie it inhibits the strengthening and development of mission in their own communities? That sounds like a recipe for locking-in decline.
In other words, is the present system of parish share – a classic example of mid-20th century state socialism – the best way to support ministry, or would we be better off going back to a pattern of livings, whereby those ministries that were successful and prospered were able to reinforce their success by direct funding and control of further mission? My suspicion is strongly that the existing system will soon collapse (because of wider economic trends as much as anything else) and that more historic system will re-emerge. Then we shall have Mersea Minster as the central resource for discipleship and worship in the area south of Colchester. I find that prospect rather encouraging.

