Bishop sacrifice

When it comes to sexuality, the Church of England remains uneasily in the closet.

When it was announced that the Church of England had established an advisory group on human sexuality, consisting of four bishops and a retired civil servant, there was some criticism of the fact that all its members were (ahem) male. But that was only to be expected, and not just because it happens to be a group of bishops, which remains, for the time being at least, an exclusively male club. In Anglican parlance, "human sexuality" is code for, "What do we do about the gays?"

Overt homophobia is increasingly a fringe element in British Christianity these days, represented best by the likes of Stephen Green. Last week, the founder of Christian Voice claimed to have persuaded God to punish Tesco for its support of a gay pride event ("Significantly, we prayed for a drop in their share price").

Meanwhile, the mainstream churches continue to move at varying speeds in the same general direction as the rest of society. Not that you'd realise it from the tone of much of the coverage.

In the case of the Church of England, there are currently two major sticking points, which may or may not be linked: the question of whether civil partnership ceremonies should be allowed to take place in church, and the question of whether openly gay men, even if celibate, should be allowed to become bishops. In both cases the present situation is one of studied hypocrisy.

The second issue has been bubbling away at least since 2003, when the then Canon Jeffrey John (who has a civil partner) failed to be appointed to the relatively lowly post of bishop of Reading, despite having been offered the job in quite clear terms.

There's no doubt that John was shabbily treated. As soon as the appointment was mooted, John became the target of a campaign of ugly homophobia -- even though he described himself as celibate and thus eligible.

Homosexual orientation, the current church doublethink has it, is not sinful in itself; it only becomes sinful if you do something about it. But such subtleties were lost on religious conservatives at home and abroad, who could only recoil in sheer horror at the idea of a "gay bishop".

As a celibate gay man, John would have been in the same position as countless bishops in the past. He would not even, well-informed observers suggested, have been the first gay bishop of Reading. The only material difference was that he had taken advantage of changes in the law to contract a civil partnership. He was, that it, open and honest about his orientation, unwilling to engage in the dissimulation and evasion that was traditional and, in previous eras of repression, mandatory.

As so often happens, the cracks were papered over and a face-saving formula devised. Jeffrey John was made Dean of St Albans, arguably a more high-profile and powerful job than bishop of Reading. But he couldn't call himself "Right Reverend" or wear the pointy hat.

For some unfathomable reason, a gay (but celibate) senior dean is acceptable but a gay (but celibate) junior bishop would be an outrage. That alone says much about the Trollopian mess the Church of England has got itself into.

Now, following a second disappointment in 2010 when he was briefly in the running for the bishopric of Southwark (which is a proper bishopric), it's been reported that Jeffrey John is considering taking legal action for discrimination. Informed observers suggest that he would probably lose.

Certainly the Church of England seems to be quite secure in its legal advice that it has enough of an opt-out from equalities legislation. But even if he doesn't stand much chance of forcing the Church of England to offer him a mitre, Jeffrey John does threaten to shine an unflattering light onto the secretive appointments system that, in the words of the late Dean of Southwark, Colin Slee, "stinks".

It would be hard to argue that anyone has a "right" to be a bishop. Indeed, the notion of going to court to demand episcopal preferment is so out of keeping with traditional norms of clerical behaviour that it might be held to be, in itself, a disqualification for the job.

A bishop doesn't run for election. A bishop is dragged reluctantly to his throne, like Mr Speaker only more convincingly, protesting that he is not worthy, but that since God wants him to do the job it would be worse than churlish to refuse. To be made a bishop is not even to be promoted: it is to submit oneself humbly to a more onerous form of service. That at least is the party line.

Ambition aside, there are other reasons why Jeffrey John is unlikely ever to become a bishop, even though everyone seems to agree that he is well qualified. He has become a divisive figure in a church that values unity, and a clear-cut figure in a church that values ambiguity and opacity.

Whether he intended it or not, he has become the standard-bearer for the cause of gay equality. His appointment, whether or not it split the church, would be seen as highly political and as a piece of deliberate provocation. His tenure would be dominated by rows and walk-outs: at least that's what those who blocked him undoubtedly feared.

At vital moments like this, the Church of England usually puts expediency ahead of principle.

The day will no doubt come when the appointment of an openly gay bishop is no more surprising that then appointment of an openly gay cabinet minister, itself once unthinkable. But when it comes, don't expect any public apologies to Jeffrey John. He committed a far worse sin than homosexuality, after all. He rocked the boat.

 

Belief, disbelief and beyond belief
Getty
Show Hide image

A new German law wants to force mothers to reveal their child’s biological father

The so-called “milkmen’s kids law” would seek protection for men who feel they have been duped into raising children they believe are not biologically theirs – at the expense of women’s rights.

The German press call them “Kuckuckskinder”, which translates literally as “cuckoo children” – parasite offspring being raised by an unsuspecting innocent, alien creatures growing fat at the expense of the host species’ own kind. The British press have opted for the more Benny Hill-esque “milkmen’s kids”, prompting images of bored Seventies housewives answering the door in negligées before inviting Robin Asquith lookalikes up to their suburban boudoirs. Nine months later their henpecked husbands are presented with bawling brats and the poor sods remain none the wiser.

Neither image is particularly flattering to the children involved, but then who cares about them? This is a story about men, women and the redressing of a legal – or is it biological? – injustice. The children are incidental.

This week German Justice Minister Heiko Maas introduced a proposal aimed at to providing greater legal protection for “Scheinväter” – men who are duped into raising children whom they falsely believe to be biologically theirs. This is in response to a 2015 case in which Germany’s highest court ruled that a woman who had told her ex-husband that her child may have been conceived with another man could not be compelled to name the latter. This would, the court decided, be an infringement of the woman’s right to privacy. Nonetheless, the decision was seen to highlight the need for further legislation to clarify and strengthen the position of the Scheinvater.

Maas’ proposal, announced on Monday, examines the problem carefully and sensitively before merrily throwing a woman’s right to privacy out of the window. It would compel a woman to name every man she had sexual intercourse with during the time when her child may have been conceived. She would only have the right to remain silent in cases should there be serious reasons for her not to name the biological father (it would be for the court to decide whether a woman’s reasons were serious enough). It is not yet clear what form of punishment a woman would face were she not to name names (I’m thinking a scarlet letter would be in keeping with the classy, retro “man who was present at the moment of conception” wording). In cases where it did transpire that another man was a child’s biological father, he would be obliged to pay compensation to the man “duped” into supporting the child for up to two years.

It is not clear what happens thereafter. Perhaps the two men shake hands, pat each other on the back, maybe even share a beer or two. It is, after all, a kind of gentlemen’s agreement, a transaction which takes place over the heads of both mother and child once the latter’s paternity has been established. The “true” father compensates the “false” one for having maintained his property in his absence. In some cases there may be bitterness and resentment but perhaps in others one will witness a kind of honourable partnership. You can’t trust women, but DNA tests, money and your fellow man won’t let you down.

Even if it achieves nothing else, this proposal brings us right back to the heart of what patriarchy is all about: paternity and ownership. In April this year a German court ruled that men cannot be forced to take paternity tests by children who suspect them of being their fathers. It has to be their decision. Women, meanwhile, can only access abortion on demand in the first trimester of pregnancy, and even then counselling is mandatory (thereafter the approval of two doctors is required, similar to in the UK). One class of people can be forced to gestate and give birth; another can’t even be forced to take a DNA test. One class of people can be compelled to name any man whose sperm may have ventured beyond their cervix; another is allowed to have a body whose business is entirely its own. And yes, one can argue that forcing men to pay money for the raising of children evens up the score. Men have always argued that, but they’re wrong.

Individual men (sometimes) pay for the raising of individual children because the system we call patriarchy has chosen to make fatherhood about individual ownership. Women have little choice but to go along with this as long as men exploit our labour, restrict our access to material resources and threaten us with violence. We live in a world in which it is almost universally assumed that women “owe” individual men the reassurance that it was their precious sperm that impregnated us, lest we put ourselves and our offspring at risk of poverty and isolation. Rarely do any of us dare to protest. We pretend it is a fair deal, even that reproductive differences barely affect our lives at all. But the sex binary – the fact that sperm is not egg and egg is not sperm – affects all of us.

The original 2015 ruling got it right. The male demand for reassurance regarding paternity is an infringement of a woman’s right to privacy. Moreover, it is important to see this in the context of all the other ways in which men have sought to limit women’s sexual activity, freedom of movement and financial independence in order to ensure that children are truly “theirs”.  Anxiety over paternity is fundamentally linked to anxiety over female sexuality and women’s access to public space. Yet unless all women are kept under lock and key at all times, men will never, ever have the reassurance they crave. Even then, the abstract knowledge that you are the only person to have had the opportunity to impregnate a particular woman cannot rival the physical knowledge of gestation.

We have had millennia of pandering to men’s existential anxieties and treating all matters related to human reproduction, from sex to childbirth, as exceptional cases meaning women cannot have full human rights. Isn’t it about time we tried something new? How about understanding fatherhood not as winning gold in an Olympic sperm race, but as a contract endlessly renewed?

What each of us receives when a child is born is not a biological entity to do with as we choose. It is a relationship, with all of its complexities and risks. It is something worth contributing to and fighting for. Truly, if a man cannot understand that, then any money wasted on a Kuckuckskind – a living, breathing child he could get to know – has got to be the least of his worries. 

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.