I’m writing this after chatting with some our congregation after the service this morning and finding out that there’s much curiosity but very little knowledge about how we appoint bishops. As our bishop’s farewell service is on 31 May I anticipate more questions will come up about that process, so thought I’d preempt some of those here.
But first: it’s over two months since I last posted here, and readers may be wondering whether I am still alive. Well, that’s a good question. After the February General Synod, I had a meeting of Ministry Development Board (I was elected from Synod to this) and then immediately travelled up to Edinburgh to the Royal College of Physicians (RCPE) to speak at the launch of their new exhibition, “Rag” (full talk here, starting 8 minutes in; text summary here). I always like doing events with the RCPE, not least because one gets to talk to all sorts of doctors and to learn lots of things which are very useful for a historian of the body. Indeed, in my talk I asked if anyone in the audience was working on a particular topic, and someone who was doing just that came up for a chat afterwards!
While I was away, I had an irritating sore throat of the kind which felt like it would develop into a cold, or maybe laryngitis, but not enough to stop me enjoying the trip and the experience. This sore throat, however, went nowhere.
But a week or so after that, I developed an increasingly annoying cough. I started wondering if this was bronchitis. The NHS website told me that I wouldn’t be prescribed antibiotics until I’d had the symptoms for a couple of weeks, but I felt somehow uneasy, so went to my GP. He listened to my lungs, heard ‘coarse crepitations’; as when talking to the RCPE, I learn new things by going to the GP. He told me this was borderline pneumonia; that I had a tiny bit of wiggle room before taking antibiotics; but that he recommended hitting the drugs as a matter of urgency. Meanwhile, total rest for 4-6 weeks. That’s a long time. And to save you asking, yes, I had the anti-pneumonia jab when it was offered to me, three years ago.
I respect my GP’s knowledge not just of bodies in general, but of my medical history in particular, so I obeyed. Not that I had much choice. I was already feeling really exhausted, so I took the antibiotics, cancelled everything in the calendar, spent 4 weeks sleeping or reading light detective fiction, and recovered. But that was over a month of doing very little.
The one thing I had to do: Vacancy in See Committee
When I say I cancelled ‘everything in the calendar’, there was one exception, and that was the Oxford Vacancy in See Committee (ViSC). This is the group which starts the process of finding a new bishop, and as a member of General Synod I am automatically on this. Because we are a very large diocese, it’s a huge committee – 49 members. When we began to meet, I volunteered for the smaller and – for me – more interesting Statement of Needs subgroup. This is the group that produces a picture of the diocese and a first attempt at thinking about what we are looking for in a new bishop. This meant pretty well weekly meetings for several months, with the draft Statement of Needs going back and forth to the main ViSC and, for some predictable sections, being revised over and over again. I was involved in drafting many of the sections, including those on education, diversity, human sexuality, the knowledge economy, AI and women’s ministry, and like the rest of us I was profoundly grateful to the Diocesan Church House staff who found the figures we needed, as well as to our staff member who designed the different pages. The result of our labour is this document; 72 pages, which may well seem like overkill. There came a point at which it was already so long that it seemed churlish not to include a bit more on some topics. The Statement of Needs also incorporates results from another subgroup which was responsible for the consultation in the diocese in general, and reflects the work of a third subgroup which focused on prayer.
Fortunately all of our meetings had a zoom option. Indeed, I had already needed to attend an earlier meeting on zoom from a hotel room, which was difficult as at that one I had been asked to present a paper on one section of the Statement of Needs. It’s challenging doing this without a sense of ‘the room’. The whole process of the ViSC seemed to be done in a rush, with drafts of documents inevitably coming just before a meeting. This is not unique to Oxford. Dioceses are lined up in the queue and the deadlines are fixed centrally. The sheer amount of work needed from those on a ViSC isn’t apparent until the thing starts (be warned, if you are on one!).
And on to the Crown Nominations Commission
The day after my diagnosis, before the antibiotics had been given any sort of a chance, I attended the ViSC remotely for the meeting in which the six diocesan representatives for the Crown Nominations Commission (CNC) are elected. You can’t vote unless you are present at the meeting either in person or online. I was feeling very ill, but at least on mute my coughing could not be heard. To my great surprise, I was one of those elected, which meant ‘attending’ the commissioning service which followed the result through my screen and appearing on that screen in the official photo of the event. As a result of this, it all felt rather unreal.
But it is real. So now my diary is taken up with the CNC. Alongside the 6 elected diocesan reps, a CNC has 6 national reps; originally these were elected from General Synod as pairs so that only one of each pair had to attend a particular CNC, but for various reasons those broke down and now some of the remaining national reps have to take part in all the CNCs, and there seem to about 6 CNCs a year. The two archbishops bring the membership up to 14. We are issued with many, many documents, some of them already in the secure online site, and far more to come. I am used to academic job searches where there may be 70 or so applicants for one post, but the amount of paperwork per applicant is far more here. By the time we get to October, when the interviews happen, there will have been many, many days of reading. Because this is not like a secular ‘appointments’ process, but is about ‘discerning’ who is being called to the office of bishop, in the coming week we have the online Discerning Well Together session (I think this was formerly known as anti-bias training) and then the following week the national and diocesan reps meet together for the first time.
The details of a ViSC are confidential; you’ll note that I’ve only shared the information that is in the public domain, in the Statement of Needs or on the diocesan website. Whereas ViSC elections are done online, CNCs operate with another level of confidentiality, to the point where the voting on which candidate to select as bishop is done by writing on a piece of paper and handing it in. As for the rest of the proceedings, everything is confidential. I understand that it is at the June meeting that we all swear the oath: ‘As a member of the Crown Nominations Commission, I promise, as an obligation of such membership, not to divulge to any outside person information about this Commission’s proceedings, or about any person it has considered for the appointment, or about others who have been the source of its information, neither during my membership nor afterwards. I also undertake not to make copies of any of the papers provided, to delete all digital copies of papers held on various devices, and to return all hard copy papers to the Archbishops’ Secretary for Appointments at the end of the Commission’s meeting.’
That’s clear enough: silence will fall.

