Women Bishops in the Light of Emancipation Dynamics

OK folks, that title was a bit of a cheat to get your attention! My blog stats tell me that you are 78% more likely to read anything I write if I put the words  'women bishops' in. If you're still reading, this post is actually about the dynamics of emancipation. And that's not necessarily gender-focused emancipation. There's a strange phenomenon when any group who are controlled, excluded or put down because of a common characteristic begin to challenge the status quo. There comes a time in the campaign when, although the  rightness of their case is clear to the majority and is proven to be persuasive at a rational level, huge amounts of effort go into arguing, political manoeuvring and even the use of force to ensure that the status quo is maintained. The sobering thing is that it's not just opponents who display such delaying tactics. They often spring from deeply subconscious levels of the psyche and are manifest in the behaviour of those who would tend to say that, on the whole, they support the move for emancipation. (The 'Why rush into it now?' argument is a good example of this.) Further, those who are oppressed often themselves collude in such opposition. They do this by poor organisation (they assume the cause is won before it is), too much sympathy for opponents (perhaps not having the courage to be seen as boat-rockers or to move outside comfort zones) and fragmentation (there is nearly always a division between extremist and moderate.) Any behaviour of this kind shows what feminists would term incomplete conscientization about the nature of oppression.

Historical examples? You can see elements of what I'm talking about in the civil rights movement in the USA, women's suffrage in the UK, Cymdeithas yr Iaith (the Welsh Language Society)'s campaign to save the Welsh language, the long haul to abolish slavery in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries (a story that is still not over), the attempt to get the South African government to acknowledge the spread of AIDS, the movement toward same sex civil partnerships and in the struggles of people with learning disabilities to be allowed to live as adults with the normal freedoms regarding their own education and reproductive life. There comes a point in most campaigns, just as the new order is almost within reach, that will be marked by vocal opposition and delaying tactics. In some campaigns, the use of violence, physical or verbal, breaks out on one side or both. This conflict stage can last a long time. It may be heralded as the catalyst for resolution but is seldom, of itself, decisive. If the phenomenon is not anticipated and planned for, it leads to a collapse in morale among those who may have done sterling work over many years to bring to light injustices and work for change. It can also seriously undermine an institution or organisation as people begin to ask, 'Is this worth all the effort and apparent chaos? ' (The classic argument at this stage is, 'We could be putting our energy into something so much more important.')

To come back to my title. The situation we have with women bishops is that while the vast majority are persuaded, there is a disproportionate amount of effort being put into strategies that make the final goal impossible. So, while I can guarantee a large audience for an article like this, suggesting that people think the recognition of the feminine in God and the life of faith is very important, I can be equally sure that the ideas it contains will spawn opposition which will be, in its own terms, effective in lending resistance. (This leads to the 'This is undermining our belief in reconciliation, unity and peace so we won't say anything,' argument and ultimately to voicelessness.)

Many people will say that emancipation is not a biblical or theological idea. They will point to the notion that it is a political concept to do with human rights. The word itself comes from the Latin 'ex manus capere' - to take from the hand and, in its earliest uses, usually denotes an extending of welcome or accepted status to those who were previously disenfranchised. Now, although this can indeed be understood in terms of the procurement of political rights, it is, I believe, just as valid to understand it in theological terms as the process of setting people free to be who they are in the image of God. Enter the Exodus narrative which is, for the Abrahamic faiths, the definitive story of God's desire to emancipate people from the chains that ensnare them and tie them to treatment that diminishes their humanity as well the imago Dei in them. Rabbi Dr Kenneth Chelst writes movingly in his book, Exodus and Emancipation, about the original exodus as akin to the experiences of African American slaves. Both peoples suffered centuries-long persecution. Emancipation is not over and against the biblical tradition - some kind of lesser secular value - but right at the heart of it. Of course, right there in the Exodus narrative we find most of the elements of opposition, conflict, self doubt, low morale and collusion in one's own adverse fate that I've mentioned above.     

Kenneth Chelst, Urim Publications 2009
www.urimpublications.com

Exclusion itself is not necessarily a bad thing. To exclude a group of children from an activity that is beyond their strength and ability might be a very commendable thing, serving the children's best interests. However, when a group of people persistently report that their exclusion is harmful and where means of discussion and development are denied, this is a strong clue that exclusion contains elements of oppression. History shows that the journey from exclusion to acceptance is always a political one. Sometimes the issue in hand is deemed to be of lesser significance than other more pressing issues and therein lies another danger (the 'These people don't know they are born compared to someone else' argument.) Again, feminist insight suggests that all forms of exclusion and oppression are linked in subtle and complex ways so that denial of one group's plight shapes, at a very deep level, what it is then possible to think and say about other groups. A few years ago a Nigerian student of mine did some empirical research across the university about attitudes to oppression. In the group he surveyed, he found that those who held the opinion that 'lesser' kinds of oppression are worth challenging were nearly three times as likely to be actively engaged in campaigning against more serious forms of oppression and exclusion. 

Do I detect that we have gone a bit soft on all this? The path to any form of change that involves a previously less acceptable group being included in mainstream activity is never easy and always costly.

Dementia An Asset?

The idea of dementia as an asset sounds almost offensive but this was a suggestion that came out of a recent seminar hosted by the Guardian, in conjunction with the Joseph Rowntree Foundation, the British Red Cross, PA Consulting and Barchester Health Care. In fact, it's a call for us to rethink the whole way we understand dementia and even ageing itself. The idea? People with dementia and their families need friendly communities where care is reliably shared and respect for the human person, no matter how old or frail or confused or debilitated, is the touch stone. Dare we ask, could the drive to create such communities in fact be the key to a better life for us all?

It's this kind of radical thinking that is going to be essential in ensuring that we can look after the estimated 1.7 million of us who will be living with the disease by 2050. (Currently there are over 820,000 and my area of Yorkshire has a higher than average incidence.) An idea that came from the seminar took the model of what happens when you get pregnant. When the pregnancy is confirmed, in effect, you join a community. You usually receive a welcome pack, you have a midwife assigned to you and you attend groups that introduce you to other parents-to-be. This helps to support you through your pregnancy and there is good evidence that mothers who engage with all this have a lower incidence of birth complications. Dementia sufferers need a similar approach. At the point of diagnosis, they need information, time to discuss the implications, an assigned health worker who is going to ensure that there is some continuity of care as the disease progresses and a gradual introduction to a community of others who are facing a similar journey. Longer GP appointments which allow extra time in order to overcome communication barriers would be helpful in the case of anyone who has the disease.  In addition, because of memory loss and the lack of facility to recognise people that often comes later in the disease, people with dementia need to see the same faces again and again and to be cared for by professionals who get to know them and their families in some depth. Pregnancy care is also a good model because it entails real co-operation between mother, family and professionals. This is something that is increasingly being eroded in health care as each branch becomes more and more professionalized and as the way we deal with important safeguarding issues drives a wedge between what can be offered professionally and what can be done voluntarily. For a happy life, a dementia sufferer needs to be surrounded by professionals, family and volunteers who communicate effectively with one another and, under controlled circumstances, share vital information. 

I was recently talking to a taxi driver at the gym. She was telling me about how much of her work is now with the elderly, including several people who have dementia. She picks people up, helps them to remember where they are going and what they need to take with them, and often has to allow extra time to gently persuade them do even simple things like getting in and out of the car. She has several people whom she takes regularly to visit family or to day centres or for fish and chips(!) and these people would not get out at all if it were not for her care. This is all in a day's work and she doesn't have any special training but she knows that she is a key element in a support system that allows these individuals some dignity and enjoyment of life.

The Dementia Friends Initiative here and local initiatives such as, in my area of North Yorkshire (Ripon and Harrogate), Dementia Forward here are working to create a situation where there are one million people in the UK who are 'Dementia aware' by 2015. They are looking for people to befriend sufferers and their families and people who are willing to acquire sufficient understanding of the disease to become champions. One idea that has been put forward is that we designate 'dementia friendly towns' rather along the same lines as cities and towns of sanctuary which offer a particular welcome for asylum seekers. This would involve training people like bus and taxi drivers, shop assistants, bank clerks, housing facility managers and clergy to be aware of how they can be most helpful to the people with dementia they come across everyday as part of their job. It's not just health care professionals that need specific training.

Please, please take a moment to think about this and/or visit one of these sites. Could your locality work towards becoming a dementia friendly place, perhaps starting with your place of work or church? 

One person in three is likely to develop some degree of dementia.  Did you know that it is possible only 45% of people with dementia have been diagnosed in the UK? The NHS is aiming to get this up to 66% by 2015. Would we accept this figure for other diseases?

People with dementia make a big contribution to our lives. My music tutor was playing the piano well into the disease; I've only just put down a Terry Pratchett novel.... You can find further examples in the Alzheimer's Research UK Blog here 

Unemployment and Identity; A Meditation

'I'm not working,' elicits all sorts of responses from the kindly, 'Oh, but I'm sure you do work very hard,' to the quizzical look that says, 'Could she be over 60?...but I daren't ask.' If you are unwaged it seems you have to explain yourself in ways that you don't if you have a job. I've quite enjoyed the game of how to fill in the blank. It truthfully varies from, 'I'm in between jobs,' to 'I'm writing a book,' and 'I'm doing some teaching, yes, theology, no that's nothing to do with trees, it's about God,' or 'Well I used to be a nurse a long time ago.' Or sometimes, 'No I don't work and I don't know what the future holds.' You can range, at will, and according to mood, from the sublime heights of grand sounding projects to complete deflation and hopelessness. Any trace of depression has an interesting effect on people - they either back off very hurriedly or else wade in with suggestions of jobs and voluntary work you aren't remotely qualified to do, attributing to you skills you don't recognise.

Then there's the question of resources. Suddenly you are better resourced in terms of time than you have ever been, you have a different range of choices and you're much less well off in terms of petrol, money and office equipment. This means you can shape your life quite differently. At times, this feels like a wonderful opportunity; at others, it feels like a bleak imposition that cuts you off from the things you were used to. There's the joy of discovering colleagues are now friends and the sadness of losing contact with others suddenly and completely. I'm only too aware that, had I given up my job due to ill-health (which I didn't), I'd also be coming to terms with a change in body image, levels of disability and, possibly, expectations of longevity. We moved house so there was a dislocation in terms of friends, neighbours and familiar places.

There's also the whole thing about what to call yourself. That might seem relatively trivial but it leads to a lot of quite comical confusion. Since I don't use my husband's name professionally (the advice was, don't change your name or you lose all your publications and your professional continuity) I'm used to arriving at events and being unable to remember which surname I booked in with. I'm also used to not quite knowing whether to call myself Ms or Mrs when using my own name. I often take comfort in the words of the bank manager who looked hard at me and said, 'Madam you can have as many names as you like as long as you don't use any of them fraudulently.' But since stepping out of ministry temporarily I've discovered a new complication. Given the vast array of titles different sorts of clergy use, and given the kinds of roles I've had in the past, I now get addressed in at least six different ways. I don't mind, but it seems to cause other people embarrassment. Personally, I go with the Quaker option. 'Janet Henderson' will do nicely - we have names for a reason and Christians, especially, might as well use Christian names.

Anyone who's been made redundant, resigned suddenly from a job, retired or given up 'work' to have a baby or look after a relative will know exactly what I'm talking about. It can be a shock. You can view it all as a glorious opportunity but it inevitably brings with it an element of bereavement and may well tip you into depression, loss of self-worth or apathy. 'Not working' in our society is a place of great liminality, neither one thing nor another, since, patently, everyone works to keep themselves (and others) going whether they are paid and recognised for it or not. The sense of liminality is increased if you don't know how long the state is likely to last. If you're actively planning a return to work, you can find yourself on a roller-coaster of eager anticipation and dashed hopes, making it difficult to settle down and probably making you difficult to live with for those around who are trying to get on with their lives and lend some stability to the situation.

All this inevitably leads you to the existential question, 'Who am I?' Who am I now that this has changed or that has gone? Who am I now that people react to me differently or don't react? Who am I now that my role has gone? I guess for clergy this can be particularly poignant as we generally continue to attend and be part of church even though our role has changed. 

God sees who we are without all this paraphernalia. Since when did God identify us by the work we do or the role we play? God generally calls people for some mysterious reason best known to God and often for a quality God alone sees in them. Abram has faith, Isaiah is ready to confess his sins, Moses is not identified as coming from a royal background and therefore being fitted for leadership, but as someone who is a bit tongue-tied and not very articulate. Hagar is an outcast with no pretensions. Even the fisher-disciples are told that their understanding of fishing is going to be re-configured. Jesus  saw in Peter a rock (not a church leader) and in James and John, the sons of thunder, fire (not a church leader and a theologian.)

"Who am I?' This is the question of those who feel themselves stripped of role or possessions or title or reputation or home or health and it is a profoundly God-ward question. It's the question that is met by the God who proclaims, or more likely whispers, 'I am who I am.' God doesn't define or reveal God's self through status or role or anything you can see or possess. The lesson of spiritual maturity is surely that God meets us most profoundly when we are stripped down and vulnerable just as Christ was stripped naked and vulnerable in the incarnation. And where God meets us, we are released into God's freedom, no longer held captive by society's categories of meaning. 

"Who am I?'
'My child, you are the one who will go for me.'

The Gift of Language;

Y Rhodd O Iaith
ο δώρο της γλώσσας

One of the great delights of social media is its potential for getting us to use more languages and to use them interchangeably. A member of our family has recently moved to Greece and I enjoy using my limited knowledge of classical Greek to try and decipher some of the things she posts. I've also recently discovered several Welsh speakers lurking in the English shadows - I had no idea the Vicar of Pateley Bridge (just up t'road from us in Nidderdale) spoke Welsh until it became clear through a chance Face Book exchange that we both had roots in North Wales. We've since been using Welsh and this is great for our fluency since neither of us has the chance to use it regularly. 

Back in the 1970's there were some good French Canadian studies which showed that speaking more than one language helped children considerably with their cognitive development. This is particularly significant if they become bi-literate as well as bilingual.Why is it that the English are so wedded to monolingualism? I read a Guardian article today by Josephine Livingstone, The Case for Language Learning here. Livingstone says 'for many reasons, commercial, diplomatic, intellectual, we need to wake up to the reality that monolingualism is bad for us.' Her article is actually about the value of learning a dead language. I studied classics for A level and did ancient Hebrew as part of a degree so I wouldn't argue with that. But I'm even keener on the value of exploring the living languages that are all around us. 

Almost all of us are likely to have been in a room, on a bus or a train or shared some space today with at least one person who was thinking in a language other than English. For some of us, that person was ourselves. We may not have realised it. You can't tell what language another person is thinking in and, if you are bilingual, you may not be immediately conscious of which language you yourself are thinking or even speaking in. Punjabi, Welsh, Urdu, Polish, Cantonese, Irish, Spanish, Hausa, French, Yoruba - I've heard all these spoken by people living in the part of North Yorkshire where we live. Yet it is common to find people regarding this as a threat rather than an opportunity.

What are the intrinsic benefits of bi- or multilingualism?

I attended a school where half the day was conducted in English and half in Welsh. I've always been so grateful to have had easy access to the literature of two cultures and the thought processes of two languages. I've also benefitted from that very non-English thing (it happens all over mainland Europe and Africa) of being quite happy to be part of a conversation where I might not understand every word, but I get the gist and can contribute. I've benefitted from early insight that, because things are expressed differently in different languages, the world can look quite radically different to people who are not of the same culture. Language, to a large degree, defines possibility. Speaking more than one widens the possibilities. For example, speaking two languages, one where gender is expressed in terms of masculine and feminine and the other where gender is expressed as masculine, feminine and neuter, poses questions about the philosophical and psychological categorisation of gender which I suppose I might not have asked, certainly not so soon, had I spoken only one language. In poetry, the common patterns of word order in a language have a huge effect on what's possible in terms of the juxtaposition of images and ideas, alliteration, rhythm and emphasis.

In one of the schools I regularly visited in Nottingham, 28 languages were spoken. The diversity of languages was a huge challenge for the staff. This is, in microcosm, the problem for English-only speakers. No one can learn 28 languages so which ones do you concentrate on? Well, I think the dawn of social media has made it much easier for us to cultivate a consistent interest in one or two languages. Simply to discipline yourself to read one article a day in another language will increase not only your linguistic ability but your cognitive agility immensely.  

Community the Post-Saxon Way

Ripon cathedral is hosting a really exciting new project. I think it's exciting because it's not one of those schemes that arrives well formed, telling you exactly what it's about and how it's going to happen....and therein lies its pulling power. It's called Saxon Roots.

The seed which germinated the project is the preaching cross.

Anglo Danish Preaching Cross
St Oswald's Churchyard,  Hauxwell

The idea is that in an age when people didn't often go to church buildings, they gathered round sacred stones and stone or wooden preaching crosses to hear the gospel told, to pray and to talk. This was, in Saxon and slightly later times, because there weren't many church buildings to gather in and for fear of being attacked by an enemy. Today, people don't go into church buildings but for very different reasons, often to do with awe of the unfamiliarity of the building itself or because we simply tend to congregate more naturally in pubs and clubs and cafes and secular places. Saxon Roots begins with the idea of the preaching cross as a place were people come together to take God seriously. I quote from their website,

'The point is....if we gather round a preaching cross, we arrive from all sorts of directions. We come as we are to a special place, a place of symbols....we look at familiar things afresh and they seem different. And in that difference is a space; an imaginative space for us to allow God to speak to us in new ways.'

Standing crosses were used for many purposes; within a settlement they marked the spot for public proclamation, preaching, penance and sacramental rites, they indicated places of sanctuary, they marked boundaries and they commemorated battles. Often crosses were located in market places and some are connected to a particular saint whose protection the presence of the cross was believed to invoke. The cross pictured above is not in fact Saxon but dates from a slightly later period - the 10th or 11th century, a time when there was a degree of fusion between Anglian and Dane as invader and invaded came to acknowledge that they had a common Christian faith. It stands in St Oswald's churchyard in Wensleydale and is, for me, a profound symbol of the power of the Christian faith, against all odds, to draw together people of vastly different heritage and culture whose interests are sometimes diametrically opposed. One of the panels is possibly older than the rest of the cross and refers to St James the Deacon, a seventh century missionary. If you want to be more conscious of the Saxon heritage of the area, wander down the road to Thornton Steward, described here

I think Saxon Roots is on to something special. On 25th October, Ripon Cathedral, with its 672 Saxon crypt and a community that's worshipped ever since (not the same people, you'll understand!) is simply inviting us to come and help create a worship event. Bring yourself, as they say, be yourself, and prepare to meet others who are different. The worship will blend elements of traditional Christian worship with non-traditional elements. There will be time to do your own spiritual exploring with things to look at, to read, to think about, to discuss and to do. The evening will include 'ancient music', biblical meditations and a short talk. There will be time to pray and space to be either alone or with others. There is even talk of a digital preaching cross and bacon sandwiches! There are plans subsequently to take this event outside the cathedral into the villages of the area as well, in keeping with the project's inspiration.

To read more, go to

http://www.saxonroots.wordpress.com/ripon-cathedral

What has this to do with social justice and community development (the themes of this blog)? Well, it's all about bringing people together to a place of honesty where together we can acknowledge God and each other; it's all about difference meeting and joining up so that new understandings are created.

Syria

I've hesitated to say anything about the situation in Syria when so much has been said by many who know a great deal more about the situation than I do. But I have been galvanised into writing today by the unusual situation of finding myself in complete agreement with Vladimir Putin. His warning that a U.S. military strike 'could increase violence and unleash a new wave of terrorism' is no less spot on for being obvious. Military action by the U.S. will further sabotage progress over the Iranian nuclear problem and the Israel/Palestine conflict. It will have a deeply unsettling effect on Lebanon, Jordan, Turkey, Iraq and the countries of Northern Africa who are receiving large numbers of Syrian refugees. Focusing a response on a strike against the use of chemical weapons is stupefyingly simplistic and short sighted and repeats the now often-made mistake of riding rough shod over the subtleties and complexities of internal Islamic and Middle Eastern political relationships. Putin warns the Obama regime in these terms, 

"Millions around the world increasingly see America not as a model of democracy but as relying solely on brute force, cobbling coalitions together under the slogan: 'You're either with us or against us.' Russia is not aiming to protect the Syrian government but international law."

By all means, hunt down those who are responsible for the use of chemical weapons and try them as war criminals. But a military strike will cause massive further suffering to the hundreds of thousands who are already suffering the effects of more conventional weapons. Scarcity of food and health care, loss of homes, incomes and employment and internal displacement or exile are the daily lot of most citizens. On-the-ground humanitarian organisations like CAFOD, Caritas Lebanon, Aid to the Church in Need are united in calling for aid, not military action. Damacus-based Greek Orthodox Patriarch Gregorios III (who himself narrowly missed being blown up by a bomb) has said that military action will be disastrous and that, despite the level of conflict, 'reconciliation initiatives are still viable' - indeed preferable.

In the House of Lords, Baroness Caroline Cox of HART here has drawn attention to the need for Syrians to find their own resolution without Western military interference so that the country does not lose its own inherent progress toward a balance of the interests of the many different political and religious groups. 

 'For many years, despite a despotic regime, Syria ensured freedoms for diverse faith traditions and for women which were enviable in comparison with its neighbours in the Middle East. There are real fears that any replacement regime, almost inevitably ruled or influenced by Islamists, will reduce Syria to the potentially irreversible destruction of religious freedoms and women’s rights. I therefore share the profound concerns about a military intervention that could unleash even more suffering. Bringing the perpetrators of crimes against humanity to justice must be the priority, not supporting, either directly or indirectly, militias that are also committing heinous and egregious violations.' (Hansard, Lords Debate 28th August.)

To help put this in a wider context, the Quaker peace talks in York, this autumn, will be providing a chance to go on thinking about the options for effective Western interaction and aid in the Middle east.  The first in the series is at the Bootham School 7pm on 

Tuesday 1^st October: “Threats to Peace: events since 9/11 and what they mean for the future” with Paul Rogers, Professor in Peace Studies at Bradford University, editor of Open Democracy and consultant for the Oxford Research Group.