What kind of institution is the Anglican Communion? After the failure of the Covenant to receive enough support from the provinces of the Communion in 2012 it can be argued that a turn to a more unified structure with centralized governance was closed off. What are the alternatives? The classic definition of the Anglican Communion from the 1930 Lambeth Conference describes it as ‘a fellowship of those duly constituted diocese, provinces and national churches in communion with the See of Canterbury’. The difficulty with this is that the word ‘fellowship’ is ambiguous: it can refer either to an informal grouping of friends or to a highly structured organization, so does not answer the question (though the stipulation of members needing to be connected with the See of Canterbury creates a definite boundary to whatever it is). The question becomes especially pressing and interesting at the moment as another Lambeth Conference is anticipated, more so because this conference is likely to eschew the passing of resolutions, showing that it is not attempting to be anything resembling a synod or congress for the Anglican Communion. This again shows a turn away from the attempt to be a unified institution. Instead the bishops may well formulate ‘invitations’ on ecclesial, social and environmental issues which the provinces of the Communion can respond to in whatever way they choose. What kind of body, then, is it?
Into this debate come William Sachs and Robert Heaney’s book, an attractively presented and well-referenced text that over seven chapters provides informative historical narrative and some conceptual analysis to make a timely and engaging proposal. The context of the book is clearly the sharp and sometimes painful disagreement in the Communion over the last two decades, disagreement that has led some provinces to stay away from its meetings and to set up an alternative network through GAFCON, a body which in some ways attempts to function as an alternative Anglican Communion. Talk of schism at different times has added to a sense of crisis and, in the words of the book, led in some places to a kind of sectarian mentalité.
In response the book seeks to draw an interesting and potentially important distinction between division, which it sees as destructive, and ‘contestation’, which it sees as intrinsic to the nature of Anglicanism and therefore to be accepted and appreciated:
Contestation is inherent to contextualisation. Contestation refers to a readiness to contend for certain aspects of Christian belief and practice, which are seen as integral to Anglican life in particular form. Division has been the conclusion that one must separate from those with whom one disagrees because of differences. We view contestation as inevitable and even life-giving to Anglicanism. As a religious tradition and an ecclesiastical institution, its variegations make contestation a fact of common life. On the other hand, we view division as Anglicanism’s gravest threat. (p. 223)
In support of this the book presents an impressive number of accounts of different episodes in Anglican history, such as the birth of the Church of England in the sixteenth century under the heading ‘A Contested Genesis’, the spread of the Communion around the world in the nineteenth century, and the contextualization of Anglicanism in different parts of the world in the twentieth century. It also draws in perspectives from other disciplines to clarify the nature and merits of contestation, such as the sociologists Adam Seligman and Robert Weller, who in their survey of religious and social worlds show how it is possible to find an order within pluralist contexts, in particular through appreciation by one group of those with alternative world views and experience, so ‘that order can be pliable to be humane’. This can happen through ritual, which can dramatize ambiguity and open up the possibility of empathy through experience of the sacred, something which ‘relativizes difference and demands fellowship’ and allows one ‘to see the world as others do and so to benefit together’ (p. 231). Sachs and Heaney’s argument rings true here: when visitors from one part of the Communion arrive in another part and then share worship with their hosts, who often have very different views on theological and moral issues, they nevertheless often come to experience a joyful sense of unity and solidarity. Worship generates empathy and stops the differences between them defining the relationship. The book, in other words, finds ways of expressing the lived experience of many ongoing links across the Communion. Sachs and Heaney therefore lay the groundwork for a refreshed vision or ‘social imaginary’ of the Communion (using Charles Taylor’s concept). It is a welcome and encouraging contribution to the debate about the nature of the Communion, supporting other authors such as Kyle B.T. Lambelet and his argument that conflict has an intrinsic place in communion (in this journal, Vol. 17.2, November 2019).
Two questions present themselves: does the book downplay the depth of disagreement in the life of the Communion? The focus of disagreement has tended to be issues of human sexuality and marriage doctrine. For some they are important but not first order issues (because they are not mentioned in the creeds) and therefore not issues to divide over. The book’s argument provides a helpful way of coming to terms with such contestation. But for others these issues are first order issues and not an appropriate subject of contestation. For this point of view it is simply wrong to try to relativize difference in this way. If such issues are contested it shows that the Anglican Communion is deeply flawed and needs replacing. The book is not very clear about how those who hold this point of view can be won around.
For many readers, then, Sachs and Heaney will be seen as presenting a cogent and integrative way of viewing the many disagreements and contests that have constituted Anglican history and its ‘promise’ over the centuries. But for others the book will be seen as not recognizing the fundamental nature of the disagreements and the importance of not accommodating those who wish to change first order matters such as marriage doctrine and practice.
Secondly, is the book too negative about the Instruments of Communion? In a section about the many ‘communities of practice’ in the Communion, meaning associations such as mission agencies, diocese-to-diocese partnerships and renewal movements, which are not primarily formal or bureaucratic but are collegial in learning, formation and mission, it states that the ‘problem has been that centralized bodies and Instruments of Communion have largely been unable to conceive of a tradition that takes account of [them]. The same bodies have certainly been unable to articulate a future promise of Anglicanism amid competing and conflicted communities of practice’ (p. 189). But it has often been the experience of those attending the Anglican Consultative Council, the Primates meetings and perhaps especially the Lambeth Conference of 2008 that they have entered into a deeply collegial community of learning, formation and mission. While the formal business of these meetings generally has not made significant impact, the experience of such collegial communities through informal conversations over meals, small group discussion and variegated worship, has deeply affected the outlook and attitudes of those attending. Is there not here an excellent example of the promise that the book is seeking to describe?