Column
Church and state
Creed
Feminism
Leading
4 min read

Why Sarah Mullally’s appointment is about more than just breaking the stained-glass ceiling

Not just history-making, it’s a challenge to the Church to rediscover its soul

George is a visiting fellow at the London School of Economics and an Anglican priest.

Sarah Mullally.
Sarah Mullally.
Church of England.

Every new Archbishop of Canterbury has a honeymoon period, before this impossible job ends in tears. The priority should not really be who does it, as what it is they’re doing. As it is, they’ll have to spin too many plates, until one or more fall off their poles and it all ends in tears again. 

Sorry to be such a Jeremiah, such a prophet of doom. This column isn’t going to be a gloomy one, promise. Rather, I’d just like to say that Sarah Mullally, in her translation from the bishopric of London to the archbishopric of Canterbury, represents something more than a triumph in a gender war. 

Very little coverage of her appointment so far has got beyond the historicity of it. Wow, it’s a woman for the first time in the Church of England’s half-millennium. Yes, that’s the news hook, and yes it’s astonishing, both in good and less good ways. But we should scrutinise for a moment what a female distinctly brings to the Anglican party. 

Without this becoming a rehearsal of the past 20 years of women’s ordained ministry in the UK, it may be sufficient to say that it must be a whole lot more than having a primate for the first time without a Y chromosome. So what is it when we ask a woman, specifically, to perform this role?  

We have to look to history to scrutinise the question. First of all, if we accept scripture as history – either as metaphor or literal record – then women’s apostleship has been there from the very beginning. The first witness to the risen Christ on the first Easter morning, Mary of Magdala, was instructed to go and tell her brothers and sisters what she had seen. You don’t get a bigger apostolic mission than that, the apostle to the apostles. 

Women facilitated and bankrolled the nascent Jesus movement in Asia Minor. Wealthy people such as Lydia, a purple-dye merchant. Others get name-checked for financial and material support such as Joanna and Susanna. There was no word “deaconess” in the early Church, only deacons, and Phoebe was one in Rome, to whom St Paul wrote. These were the very foundations, the cornerstones on which women’s priesthood was built. I couldn’t be a priest in a Church that didn’t ordain women. 

But, again, that only gets us so far. It doesn’t tell us what is distinct about women’s witness, let alone women’s episcopacy. For that, one might need to look to the tradition of medieval mysticism, women such as the anchoress Julian of Norwich, or Margery Kempe whom she mentored. When the latter wasn’t annoying everyone by wailing in ecstasy (the “gift of tears”), they and others opened a via feminina as a route to encountering the godhead. 

The self-sacrificial nature of Christ was consequently co-extended, along with the foundational figure of Mary and the divinity of her motherhood, with nurturing and the bringing forth of new life. The Church Fathers couldn’t hold on forever to gender specificity (though it took long enough) and the women brought us a more holistic experience of the divine.  

It may be that a first woman Archbishop of Canterbury has to step up to this plate. No pressure then. What I think I mean is that there is a distinctive and authentic thread of women’s witness throughout history. So this isn’t just about a historic moment for women, it’s about womanhood. When Teresa of Avila founded a tradition of reformed Carmelite monasteries in the 16th century, she wasn’t just an indefatigable woman, she was standing up to and against the patriarchy of Rome. 

It’s anachronistic to call these Mothers of the Church feminists, but they point to the feminity of God and that is something ontological for Mullally to consider, not just a chromosomal novelty. It makes her job very different from the political sphere. From Margaret Thatcher to Kemi Badenoch, Angela Rayner and Shabana Mahmood, top political women have not exactly had to pretend they’re men, but have had to emulate them. Wisecrackers used to say of Thatcher’s all-male cabinet that she was the best man amongst them. 

That is not Mullally’s task. Women’s sacramental ministry is distinct from men’s and inauthentic if not lived as such. She needs to find a voice that is congruent with some of those mentioned above and it’s a prophetic voice, not simply priestly. 

To do so, she’ll need to break with the bureaucracy and managerialism of the Church, which led to our churches being locked up during the covid pandemic and the parlous state of its safeguarding, which cost her predecessor his job. Mullally led on both those issues. 

So this is a big moment for our Church, not just because she’s a woman, but for women’s prophecy. Can she do it? We hope so.     

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Review
Creed
Film & TV
Friendship
4 min read

Testament soulfully re-tells the acts that changed the world

What happened after The Chosen?

Giles Gough is a writer and creative who hosts the God in Film podcast.

A man stands the landing of an external staircase and stares out.
Angel Studios.

Testament reimagines the story of how Jesus’ disciples spread the good news of him to the world by transplanting it to an alternate-modern era. Swapping Jerusalem for London. As the followers risk everything to preach the good news, the Temple races to silence them before the oppressive Imperium retaliates. But public miracles and divided loyalties force both sides to confront the true cost of their choices. In the first episode it asks the question, what would it be like if the Son of God had come down from heaven, come to your very hometown, and you’d missed him? 

Most re-tellings of the early church usually end the story either with Jesus’ resurrection, or his ascension into heaven. Testament starts the action just after Pentecost, fifty days after Jesus’ death and resurrection. In Christianity, Pentecost is the day when the Holy Spirit descended on the Apostles like “a violent wind” and gave them not just the ability to be understood in any language, but also the courage and conviction to go out and tell people about Jesus. We see much of the action through the character of Stephen, a young man who decides to follow Jesus after hearing the Apostles preach. Consequently, Stephen’s mother accuses him of heresy and throws him onto the street, making him fully dependent on this early Jesus movement.  

In the first episode, the storytellers seem to have presented themselves with a bit of a challenge, by starting the action at Pentecost. Not only does it seem like the most interesting events have just happened off camera, but we’re also meeting these characters in a moment of spiritual awakening and holy joy, which is notoriously hard to depict on screen. Especially with characters we’ve just met. Nonetheless, as they navigate the logistics of having so many converts all at once (the kind of happy problem any church minister would like to have) we see that the Apostles have a familiar, lived-in quality to their inter-personal dynamics. You can easily believe that these very different men have spent every day living and working with each other for the last three years until they’ve sanded off the rough edges of their relationships.  

Whilst the show doesn’t always hold together at first, it builds momentum by tackling some of the more difficult parts of the book of Acts with sensitivity and nuance. It’s helped by the performances being incredibly watchable. The colour-blind casting is a delight, and perhaps reflective of Christianity being the most ethnically diverse religion on the planet. Tom Simper, who plays Peter, has an incredibly expressive face and a compassionate manner. Kenneth Omole who plays John can be vulnerable as he returns to the garden of Gethsemane to mourn the absence of his friend and saviour. Yet the next scene, where he is confronted by a Temple priest, he emanates a quiet authority. You can’t take your eyes off him.

If nothing else, this show gives Saul a compelling backstory and a terrifying characterisation.

Making Stephen the point of view character is a bold narrative choice. Anyone with a passing knowledge of the New Testament might feel anxious for the character, and having him be played by such a young actor as Charles Beaven underscores the upcoming tragedy. Mogali Masuku plays Mary as a woman with her head thoroughly screwed on. Her storyline shows Mary ministering to addicts and victims of human trafficking, looking gangsters dead in the eye and telling them these lost souls belong to Jesus now. On the other side of the divide is Saul. Eben Figueiredo plays him with the type of zeal that allows people to do both wonderous and terrible things. If nothing else, this show gives Saul a compelling backstory and a terrifying characterisation. It’s Saul, not the Temple establishment, who is the main antagonist of this season.  

If there is one clear misstep, perhaps it’s the depiction of what the show calls ‘The Sentinels’, the foot soldiers of the ‘Imperium’, a stand-in for the Roman Empire. Rather than being dressed in modern military fatigues, they are clad head to toe in a red, faceless body armour. The type that would be more at home in the Star Wars universe. They’re possibly dressed like this to represent the empire’s overwhelming and sinister military power, but as we see repeatedly through world events, human cruelty looks painfully normal. 

The timing of this show seems noteworthy as well. This show drops roughly a year after Angel Studios, the producers of Testament, were forced to split from the creators of The Chosen. Following the lives of the Apostles as they begin to follow Jesus, The Chosen became a monster hit and the flagship show of Angel Studios’ catalogue. So a show following the lives of the Apostles after Jesus leaves them (albeit transplanted to a different time), might be an attempt by Angel Studios to recapture some of the popularity they have lost.  

Testament definitely has a faltering start, but it has all the ingredients to be compelling TV. If you can stick with this show as it finds its feet, you will be treated to a soulful depiction of an oft-overlooked part of the Jesus story. 

Watch the trailer

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