ANOTHER summer weekend, another meeting of the General Synod. The last time that the Synod gathered, in wintry February, the Church was still reeling from the shock of the Makin report and the resignation of the Archbishop of Canterbury (News, 15 November 2024). The Bishop of Liverpool had resigned after complaints about his behaviour just ten days before the gathering (News, 7 March). There had been trenchant questions about the position of the Archbishop of York over the handling of the David Tudor scandal — to the point that he faced an attempt to block him from delivering his presidential address. When he spoke, it was to acknowledge the feelings of “anguish, anger, sadness, and regret” in the room, and to apologise for mistakes made. There followed a fraught few days, dominated by self-flagellation and a prolonged debate on the future of safeguarding in the Church of England.

How much has changed since the Synod’s last group of sessions? The passage of time means that some of the collective anguish that followed the Makin report will have eased. (For the individuals involved — the Smyth survivors and those who now find themselves under investigation for their part in the scandal — the pain continues.) The work of the Crown Nominations Commission to find a successor to Archbishop Welby is well under way. Time has been found to ensure that the commendable proposal of the Bishops of Hereford and Bath & Wells to reallocate just one per cent of the Church Commissioners’ funds to supporting diocesan stipends will be given proper time for debate. It seems likely that Synod members will be cheered by proposals to raise the national minimum stipend and clergy pensions. Synod members may also take comfort from what is described as the “modest but sustained growth” in our churches over the past four years. And it will be a relief to many members that, aside from a brief update, Living in Love and Faith will be absent from the agenda.

Naturally, it is not an entirely rosy picture. The Synod’s need to discuss the response of the Church in the event of war is sobering. For all the talk of ceasefire, the Middle Eastern crisis shows little sign of abating. Nor does the current situation in Ukraine offer grounds for hope. An unpredictable US President prone to diplomacy characterised by bullying adds to the sense of precariousness. As James Megoran argues (right), the threats are real — there is a clear and present danger — but the Church has expertise in reconciliation to share. It is, of course, the job of the Synod to scrutinise motions and of members to be prepared to speak out, but, if the Church wants to promote the cause of peace, its representatives on earth need to model peacebuilding. Peace and harmony are not easy to achieve when passions are high and convictions are strongly held — and is rarely helped by holding debates in soaring temperatures. It is to be hoped that Synod members, as part of the body of Christ, will be able to handle their inevitable disagreements with mutual respect.