On the 12th of July, 2010, the General Synod of the Church of England narrowly rejected a proposal that would have allowed women to be installed into any position within the church, looking primarily to clear the way for the consecration of women as bishops. The vote was very close.
To be passed as approved regulation in the Church of England,a proposal must receive a majority in all three houses: Bishops, Clergy, and Laity. At the time, the Bishops unanimously voted in favour of welcoming female colleagues. The rest of the Clergy voted in favour too with only slight hesitationYet the House of Laity narrowly voted against it, being short by only 5 votes. It was a disappointing day, and there were tears of sadness and heartbreak in the General Synod.
On that day, I opened my Bible and was shown Lydia, head of her household and seller of purple cloth (Acts 16:11-15). I knew that God was showing me that God does call women to be Bishops– to be wearers of purple cloth and heads of our church– and that the Church would get there eventually.
Four years later, on 14 July 2014, I wept tears of joy when the vote passed in all three houses.I was not the only one; many rejoiced as history was made and our first female bishops were soon appointed and at work. Since then, a lot has happened in my life and the life of the Church universal. We have wrestled with the “Five Guiding Principles” and the uneasy notion of “mutual flourishing,” designed to protect those opposed to the ordination of women. The wider Anglican Communion has had uncomfortable discussions about same-sex relationships and scandals, and about the way that we have failed to protect, safeguard, and advocate for one another. There have been smaller splits in the church, and sadly there will likely be more to come.
I often think back to an image from my Systematic Theology lectures. Imagine a fountain: God the Father is the source of that fountain, from which Jesus and the Holy Spirit come, being still equally part of God. Along with describing the Trinity, in some ways, that descriptor is also relevant to how the Anglican Communion functions: the Church of England is the “source” and other Anglican and Episcopalian churches are unique but equally Anglican in structure. This means that the Archbishop of Canterbury is the Head of the whole Anglican Communion, with each province functioning independently. The Anglican Communion includes 85 million people across 165 countries speaking more than 2,000 languages (to a degree, a consequence of former British Colonialism) within which there are a variety of views and theologies.
In the days since the announcement of Dame Sarah Mullally as Archbishop, there have been rumblings and some outrage in between the praises and thanksgiving. The more conservative provinces that cannot accept the ministry of women or be welcoming of LGBT+ individuals have denounced the appointment; what impact that will have on the Anglican Communion, God only knows, but it is certain to shake up the world. Even within the Church of England, there are churches that are legally allowed to discriminate against potential female applicants, and how those churches function through the incumbency of Bishop Sarah is yet to be seen. There will surely be questions about how other more conservative denominations will choose to interact with the Church of England too.
So, this is a monumental moment— not just for the Church of England, but for the whole Church universal.This isn’t just a moment of significance for the little Church of England, but for 85 million Christians worldwide and global ecumenism.
There were thoughts before the announcement that the panel that appoints the Archbishop, presenting their choice to the Prime Minister and King, would baulk at the idea of potentially ripping the Anglican Communion apart. But on Friday, 3rd October 2025, I wept so many more tears of joy than words can express because God calls different people into relationship with Jesus, and to respond to that call in different ways. I wept because my church showed that it was willing to call and appoint the right person for the job, and face the consequences for that choice. We are not perfect; the church still has a very long way to go, and there will be very difficult days ahead, but there is a glimmer of hope that we are a brief moment closer to seeing the glory and love of God.
So in thanksgiving:
For Deborah, Esther and Ruth whose lives foretold the mercy of God in Jesus.
For all the Marys who said yes to mothering Jesus, who sat at His feet and beneath the cross, and who proclaimed the glorious resurrection.
For Lydia, for Phoebe, for Junia, and for Priscilla who ministered with the Apostle Paul. And for Sarah Mullally, who is called and responded with a faithful ‘yes!’
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia! Amen.
