‘We should love our family first, then our neighbours, then love our community, then our country, and only then consider the interests of the rest of the world.’ These, the words of J.D. Vance, the Catholic Vice President of the United States, sparked controversy within the Church. Writing to the U.S. Bishops in February 2025, Pope Francis then framed the ‘true ordo amoris as… love that builds a fraternity open to all, without exception.’ We find here the central question: is the right ordering of loves, in accordance with God’s good design, exclusive or inclusive? Does a hierarchy of loves necessitate love contracted by category, or is love that images the divine necessarily universal?
We must begin, as so many good things do, with Augustine. The early Church Father differentiated between caritas (divine love) and cupiditas (disordered love), contending that the latter emerges when humans love other things above God (De Doctrina Christiana, I.27-29). Thomas Aquinas systematised this, framing right ordo amoris as: objects of love ordered in accordance with their proximity to God as they share in His goodness; informing the order of charity which places God, then ourselves, neighbours, and enemies in that order; a cosmic, moral order that structures creation to reflect God’s wisdom. Aquinas develops Augustine’s abstract ontological hierarchy of goods– originally a personal and spiritual orientation – into a systematic principle of virtue. Human loves are thereby ordered according to their participation in the divine good, that it might inform caritas (here, charity). The ordo amoris has been repackaged many times since. C.S. Lewis, in The Abolition of Man, reframes it as a pedagogical and cultural, not theological, principle: he contends that we must rightly train our affections that we may ‘feel pleasure, liking, disgust, and hatred at those things which really are’.
But if love must be rightly ordered, what do we mean by ‘love’? Without labouring the subject, human love should be here understood as a participation in God’s own love that issues in acts of mercy; it is more an affection or adoration for an object but extends into the willing of the true good of others (De Doctrina Christiana, 1.27-29; Summa Theologica II-II, q.23-26).
This offers one of the best accounts for ordo amoris. Whilst we can will good to all, we cannot do good to all; our finitude necessitates a theology of caritas, or love-based action. Yet this also brings us to a crucial question. Augustine teaches that our love for neighbour flows from our love for God; we love ‘for the sake of’ God because He enables, exemplifies, and sustains that love (De Doctrina Christiana, I). But how can our love image God’s when His infinite nature allows Him to love all people equally as His image-bearing creations (Genesis 1:27; Galatians 3:28)? We simply were not created with such capacity.
It will not be a surprise that we must turn to the example of Jesus. Christ’s loves were perfectly aligned with the Father’s will (John 6:38), and yet this divine love was manifest within human limitations. Whilst incarnate Jesus loved all, His caritas was only directed towards a few, determined seemingly through proximity and encounter. However, what we do not find in Jesus is a Thomistic taxonomy of the rightful ordering of action.
This is exemplified in Jesus’ telling of the Good Samaritan parable (Luke 10:25-37). In responding to the question of who constitutes a neighbour, His reply dismantles the idea that neighbourliness is bounded by creed or kinship. Rather, we find a caritas of proximity that disrupts worldly hierarchies of belonging. Ordo amoris here appears dynamic and relational, rather than fixed in the stasis of predetermined identity. Traditional boundaries of animosity do not diminish neighbourly responsibility; in fact, the command to love your enemy (Matthew 5:44) extends that responsibility precisely into the dynamics of hostility. Such love reorders the affections not by convenience or similarity, but by participation in divine patterns of disruptive mercy. This is a pattern that Aquinas later echoes when he exhorts us to help those ‘who have greater want… rather than to one who is more closely united to us’ (Summa Theologica II-II q.31, 9).
When Vance argues that rightly ordered love requires privileging national loyalty over global responsibility, he echoes Aquinas only in part. Aquinas’ ordo amoris orders our loves but does not restrict them. Two other Thomistic principles point to a better reading. The universal destination of goods determines that created goods are designed for the good of all; the bonum commune (common good) as transcendent asserts that the good of any nation finds its true end in service to the universal good of humanity (Summa Theologica I-II, q.90, a.2; q.109, a.3). Through this lens, nation is not ultimate, and love, even in a domestic context, is not exclusive. As Revd. David Cassidy frames it, ‘America First can never mean America Alone’.
If God has created humans to be finite and material, it would indeed suggest that proximity is a necessary – and right – constitutive factor of ordo amoris. It is less apparent that this ordering should be exhaustive, rather than a non-exclusive prioritisation. Ordo amoris does not remove universal obligations, and nor does it align with social identifiers.
Moreover, our theology of proximity must be recalibrated in accordance with our times. While for Aquinas, proximity was localised, the globalised and increasingly technological world order necessitates a reconfiguring of our understanding of proximity. As the reach of our consumption, communication, and ecological impact broadens, so does our moral proximity to those we may never meet. Ordo amoris may be rightly interpreted as relating to proximity, but proximity can no longer be interpreted in spatial or tribal terms.
If the proximate now includes those bound to us through globalised systems, and if a biblical reading of ordered affections subverts identity-markers, then the ordo amoris cannot be credibly invoked to defend exclusionary immigration policies. Rather, it demands that our moral and political framework expands in proportion to our interdependence.
Pope Leo’s recent call for ‘deep reflection’ on U.S. treatment of migrants perhaps affords Vance the opportunity to re-open his Bible. Luke 10 might be just the place to start.
Victoria Paynter is a Parliamentary Assistant in the House of Lords and the Communications Officer for the William Temple Foundation.
Interested in exploring these questions in more depth? Our part-time, accredited online course Hospitality, Vulnerability and Resilience: An Introduction to Working with Refugees and People with Lived Experience (19 January–6 February 2026) brings together practitioners, faith communities, and people with lived experience to develop more just and resilient approaches to hospitality. Learn more and book your place.
The Foundation has long entertained the idea of reconnecting with its roots and re-building its programme of lifelong learning as a ‘College without Walls’ to address the challenges of contemporary world.
The original ‘bricks and mortar’ version of the William Temple College was founded in 1947. The theological college trained lay men and women to relate Christian faith to the realities of the secular world. As we launch this month our online platform for the William Temple College, the following passage from a letter by E. M. ‘Mollie’ Batten (she was a principal of the College and a key contributor to the syllabus) offers an imaginary bridge between the past and the present.
‘[…] Lay folk are called to lead their fellows in thought and action, both in Church and in society, and they must have opportunity to undertake such studies […] for the length of time and at the level which will help them to carry out their responsibilities as well as be persuasive to their fellow men. When the Church of England and other churches take this modern situation seriously, we believe that William Temple College will be seen to have ventured to some purpose and will be found ready to fulfil the tasks‘ (Batten, Letter to Dr Vidler, November 1964).
In 1971, the College became the William Temple Foundation – focusing on training programmes, research and publishing in the field of Christian social ethics. Since then, the Foundation has widened its contribution to public debates within an increasingly diverse and multicultural public sphere, bringing in a wider range of perspectives. Its main objective – to connect faith in the public square with the realities of the secular world through education, research, and dialogue – has remained unchanged.
The College without Walls – like Abraham’s Tent open on all sides to welcome strangers – offers an ideal environment to experiment with pedagogical approaches, to test new ideas and explore interactive formats. Building on the launch of the Virtual Festival of Theology in the summer of 2024, we continue this work with the development of online courses.
In today’s world marked by divisions and hostile attitudes towards sanctuary seekers, there is little time or space to reflect on practices of refugee welcome and support. We invite you to join our first cohort of participants to learn together, strengthen your impact and examine case studies and practical strategies from the City of Sanctuary UK, HIAS+JCORE, Preston City of Sanctuary, PAN Intercultural Arts and William Temple Foundation.
Drawing on William Temple’s ecumenical approach to associational life – where diverse groups, perspectives and beliefs collaborate, co-exist and flourish – the course will equip you with tools for critical reflection and inspiring examples of faith and civil society activism, empowerment and social justice. It is a perfect opportunity to exchange ideas and find new partners for innovative projects. Each week, you will engage in individual learning and collaborative work – you can complete each module at your own pace and in your own time.
Hospitality has become a widely-used, though contested concept (Farahani 2021). And yet both theological and secular accounts of ‘welcoming the stranger’ emphasise the relational aspect of engaging across different faith traditions, cultures and communities. These narratives are also shaped by personal and collective accounts of migration and humanitarian motivations to alleviate injustices of the asylum system and welfare provision.
As we welcome newcomers, we are reminded of the need re-negotiate the boundaries between hosts and guests to create more reciprocal and dignified relations. It is about recognising sanctuary seekers as experts by experience and celebrating their individual and collaborative contributions to local communities.
This work calls for collective welfare support and campaigning to re-imagine hospitality and integration as a two-way process, rather than a two-tier model – one that too often prioritises those considered ‘deserving’ of our hospitality.
The question is hardly new: it must however be posed and reposed in every generation – not least our own, in which the Church in question appears ever more diminished, and at a moment when the concept of England is in danger of ‘capture’ by a new faction. Whether or not ‘religion’ or more precisely ‘Christianity’ is part of that takeover is a complex issue. That said, those involved are likely retain a Christian identity if not a Christian belief, and crosses are wielded in processions alongside flags. Like it or not, religion – Christianity even – is part of that package.
Faced with this conundrum, Linda’s presentation gave us 5 Ps and a B: these were parishes, presence, prayer, place, the past and beauty. I found this an intriguing way to start the conversation and will expand on two of them: prayer and place.
The first caught my imagination in so far as Linda stressed the accessibility of prayer as opposed to the disciplines of worship, whereas I had always assumed the reverse: that, at least in my youth, relatively large numbers of people went to church, but only the keen ones prayed – or so I thought. More than half a century later, churchgoing has declined markedly but given an opportunity to pray, significant numbers of people respond positively. But what should they say and to whom are they speaking? Do they do this alone or does the propensity to pray generate (unseen) communities? Either way, how should the Church respond?
With respect to place, Linda underlined the shared ecclesiologies of Northern Europe’s Protestant churches, most of which have a ‘national’ resonance as opposed to the universalism of the Catholic Church on one hand and the denominationalism of the United States on the other. I agree, but the Church of England is distinctive within this category for number of reasons. Its theology is Anglican rather than Lutheran and it has no concept of membership in the sense that this is not only understood but paid for in the Lutheran churches which – unlike the Church of England – have been virtual monopolies until relatively recently.
Even more important is the so far indissoluble link between the Church of England and the Anglican Communion. In much of the Communion, Anglicanism is not only growing fast but is conservative in both doctrine and culture, and thus, out of sympathy with significant sections of the Church of England and the society of which it is part. Put differently, it is hard to see a way forward for Living in Love and Faith while the Archbishop of Canterbury remains the assumed head of the Anglican Communion as well as the English Church. Might the Anglican Consultative Council find a positive way out of this impasse at its forthcoming meeting in Belfast (June-July 2026)? And where might it look for inspiration? To the rather more flexible Lutheran World Federation, possibly.
John Denham took a different approach, addressing the complexities of nation, nationhood and nationalism at a time of considerable sensitivity, provoked at least in part by Brexit, but even more by the arrival of significant numbers of migrants into Europe, including England. The migrant issue has proved hugely consequential: prompting new political parties all over Europe, at least some of which merit the term extremist, which have in turn promoted the kind of demonstration referred to above.
Where do/ should Anglicans stand on this matter? I was challenged to think deeply about this question when reviewing The Church, the Far Right, and the Claim to Christianity, edited by Helen Paynter and Maria Power.[1] The editors reject the notion that the ‘Christianity’ displayed by the far right is something distinct from Christianity per se, thus letting ‘real’ Christians off the hook in terms of their responsibilities for what is happening. In parenthesis, exactly the same question can be addressed to centre-right political parties vis-à-vis their more extreme alternatives. In both cases, a line must be drawn between what is and is not acceptable, but where? Even more urgent is the need – indeed the duty – for all Christians to understand better those groups in society who for a variety of reasons are attracted to populist parties. There are good grounds for being disillusioned with the mainstream.
Putting these various points together, I am minded to return to an idea that has grown in my mind over several decades of reflection about the Church of England vis-à-vis its comparators in Europe: that is to recognize – and then to build on – the advantages of a weak ‘established’ church. It is abundantly clear that strong state churches run the risk of being both excluding and exclusive. A weaker, but nonetheless, established church has different opportunities. Discerning its strengths from a distinctive past – that of a partial monopoly – it can use these imaginatively (just as Linda suggests) to welcome rather than exclude, and to encourage rather than to condemn.
Take, for example, the still evident convening power of the Church of England, which can be seen at national, regional and local level. Might this be deployed among other things to foster a better quality of conversation about ‘religion’ in English – indeed British – society. The ‘problem’ – an ill-informed and ill-mannered debate – is easy enough to identify but harder to resolve as diminishing religious practice necessarily undermines not only the knowledge but the sensitivities required to generate constructive discussion about religion in public life. At the same time, and as John Denham reminded us, growing numbers of migrants from many different parts of the world demand that such discussions happen almost on a daily basis. Anglicans can and should take a lead is speaking well about religion, both our own and that of others.
A response to the launch of “Towards the Conversion of the Church of England by the Rest of England”
As necessitated by its name, a lot of the discussion surrounding the William Temple Foundation’s “Towards the Conversion of the Church of England” project has been focused on the difficult position the Church of England is in. Falling congregation sizes, internal debates, impending national irrelevance if the Church does not act soon. The Church faces imminent threats to its survival.
However, in recent months we have also seen a degree of hope emerge about the Church’s future. The Bible Society’s infamous “Quiet Revival” report showed a growth in Church attendance, albeit not yet for the Anglican Church. As Professor Linda Woodhead referenced in her reflections on the project, many people are becoming more open to spirituality in England. In these changing times, and with a new Archbishop, the Church needs to look to the future with initiative and action. Yet the question remains: what action does the Church of England, in all its diversity, need to take?
Professor Woodhead, in her response on the “Towards the Conversion of the Church of England” series, rightly cited the importance of parishes in the future of the Church of England, as well as the fact that there is no one-size-fits-all solution due to the varied and multifaceted nature of each congregation. Local parishes best know how they can serve their own communities, in ways that the national Church couldn’t imagine. If we want to see a Church of England that is thriving, perhaps we need to let local parishes do more of the talking.
In my own reflection on “Towards the Conversion of the Church of England”, I have found myself turning to the Letter to Diognetus – an ancient depiction of the early Church. The writer describes Christians as not being
“distinguished from other men by country, language, nor by the customs which they observe. They do not inhabit cities of their own, use a particular way of speaking, nor lead a life marked out by any curiosity… Instead, they inhabit both Greek and barbarian cities, however things have fallen to each of them. And it is while following the customs of the natives in clothing, food, and the rest of ordinary life that they display to us their wonderful and admittedly striking way of life.”
The early Church of the New Testament existed in their own communities, testifying to their own faith through actions and service. They were distinct, set apart, in their lifestyles. The writer goes on to reproach against Christian complacency:
“The soul is dispersed through all the parts of the body, and Christians are scattered through all the cities of the world. The soul lives in the body, yet is not of the body; Christians live in the world, yet are not of the world.”
It seems that the Church of England has forgotten its missional call to be set apart, and in doing so has become a cultural chameleon, blending in to the backdrop of modern society. As the national Church, intricately entwined with the state, complacency is an easy trap for the Church of England to fall into. Yet its established role within institutions of government also affords the Church one of its greatest opportunities. In the reflections he shared at the book launch for “Towards the Conversion of the Church of England”, John Denham discussed the role the Church can play nationally in shaping the values and direction of our country. The beautiful dichotomy of the Anglican Church, he reflected, is that it is parochial, but it is also national. It can be invested in local communities whilst also playing an important role in providing firm guidance and hope during a period of deep political turmoil.
But crucially, that would require the Church of England to become much more purpose driven. In recent years, the Church seems to have lost its distinctiveness. This is an argument that has been popularly made by the historian Tom Holland, who has frequently argued that the Church needs to be “weird” again. The Bible Society’s “Quiet Revival” report found that growth was seen mostly in Pentecostal and Roman Catholic churches. Whilst they are two drastically different traditions, they are both united by passion and drama. They unashamedly believe in mystery and spirituality, something beyond the physical world.
We are standing at a pivotal time for our country. In our postmodern society, we have deconstructed value and truth down to a meaningless oblivion. The result, as we are seeing up and down the country through the so called “Quiet Revival”, is a country that is crying out for purpose. This is the moment the Church needs to step up and embrace its strength as a purveyor of guidance. The Church needs to remember its purpose: to serve the world and share the good news of the gospel, and to not be ashamed of what it believes.
As I think about the future of the Church of England, I’m reminded of a Church I’ve recently visited in South London. Balancing two markedly different Church services and congregations, the Church has managed to grow and serve its local community. The first service is a more traditional, “high Church” Anglican service, featuring liturgy, robes and processing the Bible. But if you were to return a few hours later, you would find the same vicar and same sermon, but a much “lower” Church affair – charismatic worship and, dare I say, a few ripped jeans. Both services are thriving, and congregations mix in house groups and church events, as well as through serving the needs of the community together. Perhaps this can be a source of hope for the future of the Church of England, in all its variety and diversity. Many parts, united into one body by shared purpose. Living distinct lives that share God’s love with their communities.
By Abigail King, journalist and Parliamentary Assistant in the House of Lords.
This blog is written the day after the Foundation published a Temple book entitled ‘Towards the Conversion of the Church of England by the rest of England’, and of course just a few days after the announcement that Bishop Sarah Mullally would become the 106th Archbishop of Canterbury marked a watershed moment—the first woman to hold this position in its 1,400-year history.
Bishop Sarah, 63, brings an unconventional background to Lambeth Palace, having served as England’s Chief Nursing Officer at age 37 before her ordination in 2001. When named Bishop of London in 2017, she spoke of having “always had one vocation: to follow Jesus Christ, to know him and to make him known, always seeking to live with compassion in the service of others”.
In these early days following her appointment, we share the findings of our book in the hope that it may offer some new and creative thinking as she contemplates this life-long vocation.
The premise of the book is the 80th anniversary of Towards the Conversion of England published in 1945. Back in 1943, at the request of the Church Assembly, Archbishop William Temple set up a commission under the Bishop of Rochester to “survey the whole problem of modern evangelism.” We wanted to set up a roundtable discussion from eleven key witnesses representing a variety of perspectives and walks of English life, meeting at the Royal Foundation of St Katharine in Limehouse earlier this summer. These included Simon Lee, Tariq Modood, Abigail King, Lawrence Goldman, Sarah Joseph, Al Barrett, Val Barron, Andrew Brown, Peter Robinson, and myself.
The aim was not to provide an historical review of the original report but to take the premise of its title and turn it on its head. Instead of the Church playing a pivotal role in spiritual revival of the postwar English nation, the premise of this roundtable is that the renewal of the Church of England relies on it listening to and engaging with the new forces that are shaping England. It is a reverse idea of mission that has an acute theological, historical and cultural relevance for these times.
The consensus from our contributors suggests that Bishop Sarah Mullally inherits a Church of England at a defining inflection point. Our conversations identified a stark reality: a profound disconnection between the established Church and the English nation, driven by multiple reinforcing crises of identity, trust, and vision. Here are some of our key findings.
Diagnosing the Loss of Identity
The problematic confronting Mullally operates across several interlocking dimensions. Historically, the disappearance of Imperial Britain has left the Church institutionally ‘orphaned’ without a clear organizing purpose—the seventy-year arc from Suez (1956) to Brexit (2016) represents not merely political decline but the erosion of the framework within which Anglican identity made sense. Culturally and sociologically, this dislocation manifests in the sharp decline of rural infrastructure—the regular loss of pubs, schools, banks, and shops creates a dangerous vacuum where both Church and State are perceived as having abandoned ordinary citizens.
The 2021 Census data reveals the scale of transformation: Christian affiliation has dropped from 72% in 2001 to 46%, whilst those identifying as having no religion have risen from 15% to 37%. Yet this trajectory toward a post-Christian society masks a more complex reality—England remains dynamically religious, with minority faith groups thriving. The paradox is striking: whilst sociological narratives emphasize secularization, government interest in faith as an indispensable partner for policy delivery has never been stronger.
Younger generations exemplify this paradoxical moment. Gen Z prizes authenticity, fluidity, transparency, and collaboration, yet their pursuit of these values occurs within a world that feels fragile and precarious, shot through with existential anxiety. Spiritual hunger roams through what one might call the crumbling ruins of institutional Christianity. Many young Christians report looking with envy at the depth of commitment their Muslim friends show toward religious identity.
Bureaucratically, the Church suffers from adherence to top-down centralized governance models that appear out of touch. Power is misaligned—those thinking they possess it often lack it, whilst actual power lies with Church Commissioners, wealthy parishes, and externally funded networks veering toward socially conservative agendas.
The Theological Crisis
Perhaps most surprisingly, it is the theological dimension reveals the clearest manifestation of identity loss. In a relentless quest for cultural relevance that might refill churches, the Church has lost sight of Memory and Tradition’s value. Anglicanism in the opinion of some or our roundtable members has ‘deliberately overlooked its past,’ missing opportunities to connect congregants to rich theological heritage that could provide meaning and continuity.
On the other hand, some of our number felt that the Church has lost its prophetic tradition and roots, with institutional self-preservation prevailing over prophetic risk-taking. This has allowed Christian message and identity to be increasingly co-opted by the Far-Right with disastrous consequences. The Protestant emphasis on personal belief contrasts sharply with minority religions expressing faith through shared practices. Christianity has evolved toward belief and good works whilst abandoning distinctive practices—yet other religions maintain practice-based identity even when belief may be uncertain.
Five Pathways to Reconnection
Against this diagnosis, five trajectories emerge from our findings toward rediscovering an Anglican identity that might be able to reconnecting with the English nation:
First, dig deep into theological and prophetic traditions. In an era of dangerous populism where the English flag is increasingly yoked to Far-Right agendas, the Church needs to reconnect itself to long-term memory (anamnesis) of roots and traditions. For Gen Z navigating paths toward grounded authentic life, the Church has opportunity to offer a more satisfying spiritual menu—something demanding, deep, and countercultural. The Church must outline confident, authentic approaches to Christian faith and English Christian traditions in ways that counter religious illiteracy about not only Anglicanism but religion and faith generally.
Second, act local as an expression of resilience and solidarity. In contexts where trust in national infrastructure has broken down, the local becomes the locus of organization and relationality. The Church’s value lies in its unique ability to connect across social strata. The model of broad-based community organizing brought to the table by some of our witnesses creates ‘relational power’ offering genuine alternatives to both elite indifference and far-right mobilization. The idea of ‘the parish’ needs reimagining beyond its bureaucratic status into something more akin to a terroir—representing a combination of physical attributes, local customs, artisanal skills, and traditions that give unique flavour to a place.
Third, hold the space for dialogue about what it means to be English. The Church needs to rediscover its confidence as a national institution by convening public debates about what it means to be an English people in times of great transition. Its greatest historical strength has resided in holding together a wide variety of disparate theological views in loose coalition. Within radically polarizing social discourses, the ability to stand back, listen, take a via media, and be a container for widely divergent views takes on an urgent political and cultural significance.
Fourth, give away power to gain greater influence. The future credibility of the Church lies in giving away resources—buildings, finance, people—to meet community needs rather than gathering people into Church structures. The call from our report is for a massive injection of resources and moral vision into creating a new national network of ‘community owned and created children’s centres and hubs’ with priority given to those areas with the highest rates of child poverty increase. Such moves would restore trust and credibility where reputation has been damaged by the inability to deal effectively with child and adult sexual abuse.
Fifth, create new coalitions across faith and secular partners. The Church’s public leadership role needs to reflect the decisive shift in how policy now regards faith. Faith communities are now seen as indispensable partners for government resilience planning and healthcare (as examples). The Church still has enough skin in the game to become a key generator of relationships across difference, facilitating and strengthening these relationships as a contribution to weaving more cohesive communities.
Paradoxes Confronting the New Archbishop
Our report concludes that Bishop Sarah faces several paradoxes that may frame her mission priorities. Loss of identity within the English nation is yet in a context of pockets of spiritual and religious revival, and a renewed search for meaning, especially amongst younger generations. Whilst there appears apathy towards some expressions of institutional Christianity, interest in faith from government has rarely been so marked. Trust in centralized authority is debased, yet the search for local solidarities across difference is vibrant and innovative.
The glass, perhaps, is more than half-full. The future, though fraught and appearing fragile, is also one of opportunity for forging new connections and discovering new forms of public leadership. In doing so, the Church might rediscover its own rootedness and identity as it leads others in the same search—benefitting the Church whilst helping ensure stability and space for many more expressions of English identity to emerge, creating as they do a culture of hope, pride, and innovation.
By Chris Baker, Director of Research at the William Temple Foundation.
Read ‘Towards the Conversion of the Church of England by the Rest of England’ Temple Book here.
Sign up for our online book launch, featuring Linda Woodhead and John Denham, here. 7-8.15pm 28 October 2025.
I am writing on behalf of the William Temple Foundation, to condemn in the strongest possible terms the events that have taken place at the Heaton Park Hebrew Congregation Synagogue today, 2nd October, 2025.
There is absolutely no place for violent extremism of any kind in British Society in 2025. We stand with our Jewish brothers and sisters at this time, and pray for the community and all that have been affected by this.
In 1941 William Temple, established the Council of Christians and Jews as a practical step to form relationships and solidarity in response to the horrors of World War II. It is in that spirit that we stand now.
Over the last two years we have explored a new concept and campaign around Radical Hope which seeks to respond clearly and collaboratively to the struggles shaping public life today. This attack is another example of the struggles we are mobilising to overcome. We will continue with our work in earnest.
Our thoughts and prayers are with the victims and their families, as they respond to this horror and move forward in hope.
Dr. Matthew Barber Rowell, Northern Temple Network Lead, William Temple Foundation. 2nd October 2025.
It is with great pleasure that the William Temple Foundation announces the appointment of Victoria Paynter as its new Communications Officer.
Victoria will be joining the team in a freelance capacity and will strive to amplify the great work of the Foundation. In her role, she will strengthen the Foundation’s public profile across a variety of platforms and promote the valuable contributions of its fellows and partners.
A recent Politics graduate of the University of Edinburgh, Victoria brings her experience in communications through her voluntary work with the Centre for the Study of Bible and Violence and Just Love Edinburgh. She has a strong interest in the socio-political role of the Church and the valuable contributions of faith communities to the public square. With good synchronicity to her new role with the Foundation, Victoria will also shortly commence work for a Christian peer in the House of Lords as a graduate on the CARE Leadership Programme.
Speaking about her appointment, Victoria says, ‘The William Temple Foundation has a rich history of developing and promoting faith contributions to public life. I am delighted to have the opportunity to build on that legacy by helping to platform the Foundation’s scholarship and insights, and foster greater dialogue between its audience and contributors.’
Professor Chris Baker, Director of Research for the Foundation responds, ‘We are thrilled that Victoria is joining the Foundation in this important role. She will bring a lot of fresh thinking and approach as to how the Foundation continues to position itself in a rapidly changing political and belief landscape and communicates its core message – especially to the leaders and opinion formers of the future.’
‘Doing God is often messy and controversial, but the social benefits far outweigh the negatives’ would seem to be the gist of this much-anticipated review by Colin Bloom into how Government engages with faith which was published this week. The delay (three years in the writing) is partly explained by COVID but also in fairness, to the sheer amount of data the report received. Over 22,000 submissions and a million pieces of data later suggests that the issues surrounding religion and belief and its practice is still incredibly live and important. As the review correctly observes:
Faith in England and Wales is alive and well, and the abundance of detailed and passionate responses to this review across many faith and belief communities highlights the importance of the topic to many in contemporary British society. Faith is a diverse and evolving force which government cannot afford to ignore. (p. 30)
It is also the first review of its kind ever undertaken and is linked to the government’s Levelling Up agenda. The connection between religion and levelling up is not developed in report (perhaps because there is little consensus on what is meant by Levelling Up in the first place). But it perhaps betrays a sublimated wish on the part of Government for religion to act as both a moral legitimator for a rudderless policy term, and the hope that the activities and motivation of faith groups in upholding and developing their local communities (often the poorest and the most deprived) will give much needed meaningful content to the idea.
The report frames its understanding with a typology of true-believers, no-believers and make-believers. Increasing numbers of people in this society may baulk at such a simplistic binary narrative as true believer or no believer on the grounds that their religious and spiritual beliefs are deeply felt but complex and nuanced in their public expression. Make-believers refers to those who distort religious ideas into fundamentalist national and identity politics. The report is at pains to stress that these are a minority but that their activity needs to be more tightly regulated by government for the sake of safeguarding and freedom of speech.
This typology is necessary for understanding the rest of the report; i.e. that government needs to support and understand religion and belief in the round, and strategically support good religion and belief as a vital resource for promoting social wellbeing, equality and participation. To this end the report advocates firm policies on religious literacy for all public sector bodies, increased resourcing for RE in education and for those key areas where religion intersects with public provision in prison and health care, and the appointment of a national independent Faiths Champion.
But the report is equally clear that it is the role of the state to crack down on bad (or make-believe) religions linked to forms of nationalist and religious extremism. All the main religious faith traditions in the UK (including Christianity and its co-option by some far-right groups) have clear links with banned international and domestic terrorist organisations. Bad religion also rightly includes the practices of forced marriage and spiritual abuse in its list of things that Government needs to actively prescribe. However, the uneven and disproportionate way these sections are treated – issues outlining Sikh extremism occupies twice the length of discussion than all the other faith groups out together – is likely to raise accusations of potential tarring whole communities in ways that the Prevent programme has done for the Muslim community. The repeated observation that freedom to practice Christianity in the UK is now perceived to be under threat (perhaps the point could have been made just once or twice) is likely to fuel the toxic culture wars rhetoric of right-wing media and far-right groups.
Ultimately, the Bloom Review, is something of a missed opportunity to move the debate on religion and belief in England in a ground-breaking way. The research I undertook for the APPG on Faith and Society analysed the pandemic as a ‘permission space’ that allowed us to talk about religion and belief in a new way that also led to innovative and effective partnerships with secular agencies. The anxieties that secular groups usually feel about working with faith groups (for example, proselytization safeguarding, a lack of accountability etc) were suspended for the sake of effective working together. Stereotypes were largely disproved in the relationships forged in the crucible of the pandemic. Instead of difference this crucible highlighted shared values and therefore the possibility of achieving shared outcomes through co-creation of policies rather than co-production.
I hope the Bloom Review will be a landmark document that brings about lasting and positive change to faith and secular relations. What is missing is a step-change in re-imagining the role of religion and belief in British society that is commensurate with the unprecedented nature of the challenges facing this country. Most of the report’s recommendations see religion more as a problem to be managed, rather than highlighting, for example, the potential of religious ideas to profoundly shape the overall policy framework that delivers the sort of society we want to create. There is a reference to round tables. Where, however, are the structural opportunities to devise and shape policy, as well as deliver policy? William Temple did that 80 years ago from a Judeo-Christian perspective in his book report – Christianity and Social Order, which was published in1942 and paved the way for the post-war Welfare State. Levelling Up is a policy in desperate need of that sort of envisioning now, and it would be a multifaith and postsecular endeavour, not purely a Christian one.
As we negotiate the legacy of the pandemic, the ongoing cost of living crisis and the horror of climate disaster, religion and belief could – indeed should – be a real force for social renewal through this re-envisioning of levelling up, rather than applying sticking plasters and bandages to systems and policy plans that are already deeply broken.
Ahead of the Big One series of events planned for the weekend of the 24th April by over 200 organisations around citizens’ participation and climate emergency, William Temple Trustee Lois Tarbet reflects on EF Schumacher’s big and beautiful advice for gaining insight into the prospects for climate change following the IPCC’s most recent report.
Climate ticking time-bomb
On 20 March, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) released the final instalment of its Sixth Assessment Report (AR6). AR6, developed with hundreds of scientists over a period of eight years, represents the most comprehensive and authoritative assessment of climate science. The media has extracted headlines from AR6 telling of irreversible changes to the planet, a ticking climate time-bomb, inevitable catastrophic impacts from climate change and a final warning for drastic action to be taken now or never. There are also more hopeful messages about the mix of strategies and systemwide transformations that could help to limit global warming, albeit that a quantum leap will be needed for those strategies to succeed.
Climate status and stock-take
Summaries of the 1000+ page AR6 are offered by the World Resources Institute, the Guardian, Carbon Brief and others. They report that temperatures have risen faster since 1970 than in any other 50-year period over the last 2,000 years, that global surface temperatures are now 1.1C higher than during the preindustrial era and that observed increases in greenhouse gas (GHG) concentrations since around 1750 are unequivocally caused by GHG emissions from human activities. With high or very high confidence, AR6 authors report that, amongst other things, climate change has caused irreversible losses and mass mortality events in ecosystems and species on land and at sea.
Climate outlook
The outlook in AR6 is grim. However, it also sets out how net zero CO2 and GHG emissions can be achieved through strong reductions across all sectors. We can choose to make it less grim and there are multiple strategies that could be used, but will we? History suggests not. In its’ 2018 report, the IPCC warned that in order to limit warming to 1.50C, GHG emissions would have to be halved by 2030 compared with 2010. However, the IEA reports that carbon emissions rose last year by just under 1%.
Climate procrastination
When I attended my first climate conference in 2009 in Copenhagen, the media reported that climate scientists were “screaming from the rooftops” to be heard. Over a decade later, a Nasa climate scientist, weeping with frustration, begged the public to believe that scientists are not exaggerating when they say we stand to lose everything. Although progress has been made, we still appear to procrastinate – why?
Climate signals
Are the signals from AR6 not dire enough to prompt action – or are they too extreme to be believed? Is talk of 1 or 2 degrees of warming at variance with the scale of the damage such seemingly small temperature increases will cause? Are decision-makers too far away from sinking small island states to feel their peril? Are humans hard-wired to ignore accumulating evidence or are human institutions incapable of understanding signals from natural systems? Are we locked into the existing economic and societal paradigm? Are we focussing too much on solutions rather than insights?
Climate “solutions”
AR6 might generate feelings of hopelessness in some. But this must be balanced against the plethora of proposed solutions offered by scientists, economists, religious leaders, technicians, lawyers and politicians. From geoengineering and circular economics to calls for behavioural and cultural change there is a cornucopia of ideas to unlock climate action. But all are dogged by varying degrees of uncertainty as to whether they, alone or in concert, will achieve the desired outcomes and this can hamper their uptake or testing.
Climate wisdom
Many solutions are developed with a view to seeking objective answers, proof and results. However, in Small Is Beautiful, EF Schumacher warned against over-reliance on solutions and on allowing cleverness to displace wisdom. Wisdom he says “demands a new orientation of science and technology towards the organic, the gentle, the non-violent, the elegant and beautiful…” Science and technology must exercise the wisdom to limit itself like nature, which knows where and when to stop – nature is self-balancing, self-adjusting and self-cleansing.
Climate calm
While the noise of proposed climate solutions, reports, agreements and political wranglings reverberates, the earth (as Thomas Berry says) is silently keeping an accurate record of our climate folly in its rocks, systems, stores and sinks. Wisdom says Schumacher is to be found not in noise, but in the stillness inside ourselves, from which insights beyond our reasoning powers emerge. Schumacher asks whether we need more than a simple act of insight to realise that infinite growth of material consumption in a finite world is an impossibility or whether we need numbers, trends, feedback loops, masses of facts and computer results to tell us that time is short.
Conclusion
AR6 is full of humbling and terrifying facts, knowledge, numbers and proposals which will hopefully inform future climate-positive policy, scientific, economic, technological and cultural decisions. However, if they are to stand on Schumacher’s shoulders, those decisions must not be based on cleverness alone, but also on the “beyond reason” insights of wisdom borne from stillness.
In early 2022, I was the inaugural recipient of the William Temple Foundation Postdoctoral Award. Twelve months on, I am writing to share some of what has happened following the award. There are a number of strands to what is now an established postdoctoral agenda. Here I will share one strand, which covers work that is emerging with the Dialogue Society in Liverpool, beginning with a community Iftar in April.
The Fellows’ Award has been developed using a legacy from Len Collinson, former Deputy Lieutenant of Merseyside, Honorary Professor of the University of Central Lancashire, and business leader in northwest England. Collinson recognised that enterprise and interdisciplinary partnerships were central tenets of a flourishing society. Prof. Simon Lee, Chair of the William Temple Foundation, said of the award:
“A core part of the Foundation’s work has been supporting William Temple Scholars as they pursue their doctoral studies at Goldsmiths, University of London. Trustees have now committed to encouraging Scholars, once they have been awarded their PhD, to apply their research in society.”
In this spirit, I have begun to utilise the award to explore how dialogue can inform leadership and shared values in Liverpool, in uncertain times. The full project is set out in three blogs, the first of which can be found here. Following a call for participation, a connection with the Dialogue Society was established, which then connected me with volunteers who had recently moved to Liverpool.
For those who have not heard of it, the Dialogue Society is an international network that supports local Branches to establish associations in cities and to gather interested parties together to share. This is often done over food using an Iftar as a basis for a gathering. The Dialogue Society has drawn on the inspiration of the Hizmet Movement, a Turkish Muslim inspired approach to dialogue. Where a Branch is present it will convene meetings outside of the Iftar. In Liverpool there is not a Branch at present, but there is interest in establishing one.
In May 2022, I convened a dialogue in Liverpool. We met using Zoom, attracting attendance from Turkish muslim asylum seekers who had moved to Liverpool during the pandemic. The dialogue lasted for two hours and we explored questions of hope, barriers to hope and what might be done to overcome these barriers in the city. In response, themes included the safety and education of their children, loss of loved ones, the limitations created by a language barrier, and the stress and insecurity of being in an unknown city in an unknown country.
One respondent noted that this was the first time they had been offered space to reflect on their journeys and the difficulties they faced. One attendee noted that they would want to say a great deal more than their English could allow them too. They asked for the opportunity to write down their feelings and their experiences and to share these with those gathered with the hope that it could develop an opportunity for further reflection. Those gathered expressed a deep resilience to overcome barriers and to connect with people in the new communities they were part of. The small actions of others, a phone call from a friend in turkey, a cup of tea from a fellow community member in the city they have moved to were significant.
What had become clear is that through the transition into the UK the group gathered had found a new appreciation for the role social connection plays in their lives. They noted that they had lost work (in business and science and education) but gained a sense of togetherness and common humanity. This offered the basis for gatherings to continue, exploring a common humanity with others in the city to which they have just moved, not limited by their own preconceptions and worldviews per se, but finding common and shared ground with those communities that had welcomed them in to contribute to the place in which they now live.
This dialogue has become the basis for further gatherings that are taking place in 2023. The first of these is on the 12th April, when Dialogue Society and Spaces of Hope will convene a community Iftar at the Pal Multicultural Centre in Liverpool. We will continue to develop the dialogue we began in 2022, exploring the theme of hope and whether it would be a fruitful thing to do to establish a Branch of the Dialogue Society in Liverpool. Our focus on hope is a response to the many uncertainties we live with today. These include the cost of living crisis, the energy crisis, the pandemic, climate change, and many more. The goal is to facilitate resilience in the city, with people from across different communities, with different beliefs, values, and worldviews in curating a more hopeful place to live.
If you are in Liverpool and wish to attend the gathering, you are welcome to RSVP to Matthew at matthew@spacesofhope.co.uk by 31st March 2023.
