We tend to think that as an established Church, the Church of England should probably think of itself as part of the, well, the establishment. As such we might imagine benign insitutional compliance. In fact, at its best, the Church of England has been prophetic and remarkably willing to disregard dictats from the ruler of the realm. This is particualrly interesting in the light of Article 37, which recognises that the sovereign has ‘chief power in the realm of England’, and that as such ‘holds supreme government in this realm’. Crucially the Article goes on to state: ‘…we do not grant our rulers the ministry of either God’s Word or of the sacraments … By this title we acknowledge only the prerogative which we see in Holy Scripture God has given to all godly rulers’. Note the description of the kind of ruler that the Church delights to be subject to.
As in so much of the Church of England’s foundational documents, there is a commitment to stand firmly within the limits of Scripture. The transition from studying the text of the Bible directly (which we’ve been doing up to this point in the series) and reflecting on the Church’s practise and example, should feel seamless. Art.37 also goes on to explain that Christians are subject to the laws of the realm, and to the penalties incurred in the breaking of those laws.
Unfortunately the working out in practise has been a much more ambiguous affair. It’s worth being honest about that up front. The Church of England has consistently struggled to remain faithful to her spiritual heritage and ambition. And it hasn’t always ended well for those who have sought to stand against rulers. We may not always agree with the stands that were taken, or the politics of those taking them, but what they all have in common is a vision of a Church that has a right, indeed a Divine mandate, to stand against the civil and religious authorities when they step away from their responsibilities before heaven.
Again, the context is one of recognising the Church’s obligation to pray for and to support God’s appointed governements wherever possible. Intercessions for the sovereign and his / her parliament were offered in services of Divine worship by every Anglican minister. As well as collects, the old BCP intercessions during Communion put it like this: ‘We pray that touwoud save and defend all Christian rulers, and especially your serrvant Elizabeth our Queen, so that under her we may be governed in godliness and peace. Grant that all who exercise authority may truly and impartially administer justice, restrain wickedness and vice, and maintain you true religion and virtue’.
But those Anglicans who have felt the responsiblities of their ministry most acutely have always understood that they answered first to the Living God. And that has frequently lead to a tension in the relationship between the Government and the Church.
You might have in mind Henry II famously wanting rid of that ‘turbulent priest’ Beckett in 12th Century. Beckett was Archbishop of Canterbury at the time (so pre-Reformation), and despite having been appointed by Henry, decried the king’s habit of meddling in Church affairs. He was exiled for 6 years, but on his return immediately launched again into his harsh criticisms of what he saw as the over-reach of the those with temporal authority. Henry’s exasperation found expression in a moment of particular (probably rhetorical) frustration: ‘Will no-one rid me of this turbulent priest?’ Four knights took him at his word and on 29 December 1170, murdered Becket at the altar of Canterbury Cathedral. They were excommunicated were excommunicated for their initiative, and in 1174 Henry walked barefoot to Canterbury Cathedral in penance. Henry’s plans to curb the power of the Church ended in failure.
Or perhaps - more controversially - we could think of the role of Anglican clergy in the events around England’s brief experience of republicanism. Church ministers were on both side of the political divide, some supporting Charles I, and some agitating on behalf of Parliament. One of the most politically active ministers was John Owen, who is heralded as possibly the most brilliant English speaking theologian the Church has known. His political legacy is more ambiguous. He preached to Parliament on the day after the execution of Charles I, and hoped for the reformation of church and society in the transformation of politics under Cromwell. He was quickly disillusioned, and in the late 1650’s found himself involved in a conspiracy to destabilise the republic. It failed, and instead created the crisis that led to the restoration of the monarchy, and the persecution of dissenters (such as Owen himself).
We’re likely to find the example of Tyndale more clear-cut. We’re in the 1520-30’s now, and the Reformation is getting underway. But in England it is still illegal to translate the Bible into, or even read the Bible in English, without episcopal permission. Indeed it is illegal to have any part of the Scriptures in the English language. Tyndale challenged the King (Henry VIII) over the annulment of his marriage to Catherine of Aragorn, and then sought refuge in Belgium. For this, and for his defying the order of the Bishop of London by translating the Bible into English, he was hunted down by member of Henry’s equivalent to MI6, arrested and imprisoned near Brussels. In 1536, he was convicted of heresy and executed by strangulation, after which his body was burnt at the stake. His dying prayer was that the King of England's eyes would be opened; this seemed to find its fulfilment just one year later with Henry's authorisation of the ‘Matthew Bible’, which was largely Tyndale's own work. A copy of the Bible in English would be provided in every parish Church - though it would have to be chained to prevent people stealing it!
The list of Anglicans who have felt duty bound over the years to defy the law of the land is fairly long. We could re-visit the stories of the Bishops who insisted on teaching the Bible during the reign of Mary I, and who were variously imprisoned, exiled, or burned at the stake; or closer to home, the stories of the Ipswich Martyrs. We could remember Wycliffe, or the Lollards, or those ejected in 1662 after they refused to sign the Act of Uniformity, or the subversive ministries of Whitefield and Wesley, which defied again both the law of the land and the Church. Or in more recent years Bishop George Bell’s propensity to run into members of the German Confessing Church during his trips abroad. Bell’s advocating the cause of the Confessing Church, and the conspiracy against Hitler in which several members of the Confessing Church were involved, did not sit well with Churchill who was deeply sceptical that any such Church or plot existed.
But whatever we may think of any individual circumstance, the point remains that a willingness to engage in civil and ecclesastical disobedience has consistently been a feature of Anglicanism. When Governments, or Bishops create a sitaution where those who understand their first allegiance to be to Christ face pressure to compromise their commitment to Him, Anglicans have willingly stepped out in disobedience - and have often faced the consequences (Art.37). In recent years it is easy to think that, in terms of civil disobedience (ecclesiasitcal disobedience has been another story), there has been little need for such action. That is a situation that is perhpas changing faster than we realise.
As we begin to re-consider these questions of discipleship, it is worth us being aware of our history. Whilst for many of us, questions of conscientious objection (in society, in Church or in the workplace) are largely unprecedented, there is a long and strong tradition within Anglicanism. It is, as they say, in our blood.