WHILE the identity of the next Archbishop of Canterbury remains unknown, staff at Lambeth Palace refer to their incoming boss as “106”, after the next Archbishop’s position in the lineage of the see of Canterbury. There is a touch of The West Wing about it: the same system is used for Presidents of the United States, which explains why Donald Trump often had “45” on the side of his red baseball cap, and now has “45-47”. Just as the code name is redolent of American politics, the precariousness of the situation that 106 will inherit is comparable to the one faced by an incoming US administration.
Top of the to-do list is safeguarding. This is the issue that forced the resignation of 105, and will loom large in the public’s mind when 106 is announced. The new Archbishop’s first order of business will be defending their own record. The CNC, led by a former spy-chief, Lord Evans of Weardale, will be conscious of this, and whoever is chosen will have been carefully vetted. Any blemish that is uncovered after the announcement, though, will have the potential to scupper the ship before it is out of the harbour.
After the new Archbishop’s personal record has been pored over, and the Archbishop has said the right things about the need for continued structural reform in church safeguarding, they will be under intense pressure to see that such reform actually takes place. The General Synod delivered a somewhat unclear mandate in February for partial outsourcing of the Church’s safeguarding to a new independent body (News, 14 February), but there is still no firm timeline for its creation. Gaining the trust of survivors, and prominent church commentators, will be vital to winning confidence on this issue.
At the same time as guiding change, the new Archbishop will also need to quell concerns that the requirements of safeguarding training at the parish level have become disproportionately onerous. Recent data leaks connected to DBS disclosures have deepened worries that the pool of volunteers will start to dry up if further checks and training are mandated, especially for those whose work does not concern children or vulnerable adults.
After safeguarding comes the other big “S” in the Church of England’s pile of “Issues to resolve”: same-sex relationships. Archbishop Welby would have hoped to leave his successor a more settled Church on this issue; instead, the rolling out of blessings for same-sex couples remains incomplete, and the prospect of a structural settlement agreeable to opponents of their introduction still seems far off. It is possible that, as with the passage of the legislation to permit women bishops, a new Archbishop, perhaps in combination with a refreshed Synod (elections are due next year), might break the deadlock; but it will take all of the new Primate’s powers of persuasion.
Owing to the numerous counted Synod votes that have taken place on the issue over the past few years, there are few senior members of the episcopate whose views on the issue are unknown or considered to be neutral. So, 106, if considered a liberal on sexuality, will have to reassure conservatives that they won’t be alienated. If the new Archbishop is considered a conservative, the converse applies.
ONE way to conceptualise the Archbishop’s profile and responsibilities in the UK is to partition it into four quadrants: church politics, national politics, faith in the context of the Church, and faith in the public sphere.
The sexuality and safeguarding debates fall into the first of these, but a third issue straddles both church and national politics: the legacy of slavery. The C of E’s Project Spire — a £100-million impact investment fund for communities affected by the legacy of transatlantic chattel slavery — has been heavily criticised. In July, there were Synod questions about it, implying uncertainty among members about this allocation of central funds. Fronting up the Church’s commitments with deft diplomacy, even when being lambasted as “political”, has become seen as part of the Archbishop’s job, regardless of any ability to influence the decisions that have been made.
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The paradox of the Archbishop’s position is that it is one of being asked constantly to express an opinion on national politics and constantly criticised for doing so. The Lambeth Palace press office receives far more interview requests than it could possibly accept, particularly when an Archbishop is first in office. Journalists will ask for their views on topical issues (assisted-dying legislation and the conflict in the Middle East are just two examples of topics likely to come up in their first interviews), and then, as surely as Easter Day follows Good Friday, they will be criticised for their intervention, and will be told to stay out of politics.
The new incumbent is likely be drawn from one of the existing Lords Spiritual, and so already have first-hand experience of the Catch-22 of the Church of England in Parliament: use your position, and be criticised for unelected interference, or stay silent, and face accusations of not caring.
As with every aspect of the Archbishop’s position, when compared with that of a diocesan bishop, the intensity of the scrutiny of what they say and don’t say is increased by a factor of 100. It has been said that “People expect the clergy to have the grace of a swan, the friendliness of a sparrow, the strength of an eagle, and the night hours of an owl — and some people expect such a bird to live on the food of a canary.” Expectations are even higher again for the bird that nests in Lambeth Palace.
ARGUABLY, no issue is bigger, or more out of the Archbishop’s control, than declining church attendance. Notwithstanding reports of a “quiet revival”, post-Covid recovery, and encouraging statistics from cathedrals, it is undeniable that Christian identity in the country as a whole, and Church of England attendance in particular, are at historically low levels. Archbishop Welby became associated with attempting to achieve church growth through big-ticket projects that sought to create new worshipping communities rather than by bolstering parish ministry.
The Archbishop, though, does not independently make decisions of overall strategy, and has limited power to change the Church’s structures. What the Archbishop will have to do, though, is to be the public face for the health of the Church, and set the tone for how the statistics are received.
Although holing an office that in the national and international Anglican context attracts more attention, the Archbishop is also the diocesan bishop for Canterbury, and has issues to address there. The day-to-day duties of a diocesan bishop are taken up by the Bishop of Dover, and so the Archbishop will need to forge a good working relationship with whoever serves in that position.
The current Bishop of Dover, the Rt Revd Rose Hudson-Wilkin, is an outspoken critic of the settlement that maintains provision in the Church for those who do not accept the ministry of women priests and bishops. The odds of that someone from either the traditional Catholic or complementarian Evangelical camps becomes Archbishop of Canterbury are long. Whoever takes on the position will have to contend with calls to change the current settlement on women bishops — including, perhaps, from their own suffragan bishop. If the next Archbishop is a woman, focus on the settlement concerning women’s ordination will probably be, although the status quo means that such an appointment need not trigger a schism. Whether it does so in the Anglican Communion is a different question, and one for a different piece.
In the latter part of Archbishop Welby’s tenure, Lambeth Palace worked closely with Buckingham Palace: first, on Queen Elizabeth II’s funeral, and then on the Coronation. Relations between Church and Crown are good — united, perhaps subconsciously, by an undercurrent of existential angst. Royal events, particularly weddings, funerals, and coronations, put the Church of England, and the Archbishop, in the spotlight. For some people, the new Archbishop will be judged on the dignity that the Archbishop brings to such occasions.
THIS analysis has focused on issues that fall into the categories of church and national politics, and has been mostly silent on faith in the church and public spheres: political issues are easier to quantify, and quickly gobble up all the attention. Whoever takes office, however, will likely not want to be primarily a politician and administrator, but a pastor (albeit one who lives in a palace). The issue that the new Archbishop faces, however, is that their ability to be an effective shepherd to the House of Bishops, from which they have ascended, to the Church of England as a whole, and to a sceptical nation, will depend on how they navigate the political issues. There is no doubt that 106 will need a sure but dexterous hand to lead the Church through these challenges. And, if all else fails: roll on 107.
