Over the past few months, I’ve had the pleasure of attending several diocesan synods, raising the Gazette’s profile. Each one has offered a window into the breadth of the Church of Ireland. We are a Church that holds within it a diversity of viewpoints that would rival many a larger group. Despite this, I’ve seen the same thing time and again: a deep love for the Church and a desire to see it flourish and grow.
There is something quietly inspiring about these local gatherings of church governance. They are not always headline-grabbing affairs — indeed, they are often primarily procedural, peppered with a mix of motions, minutes, and mild disagreements. Yet behind it all is the hum of a living institution trying, in its own way, to discern God’s will in a complex and changing world. And perhaps that, more than anything, is what has struck me: that in a time when loud voices are calling for separation and purity of doctrine, the life of the Church on the ground still pulses with a steady commitment to faithfulness and service. Our recent synods have reminded me that unity in the Church — however precarious — is not the same thing as uniformity. It is not agreement in every matter of theology or ethics, but a shared commitment to stay in relationship despite disagreement. This is a covenantal bond, rather than a contractual one.
The Church of Ireland has long prided itself on being a broad church, a place where evangelicals, catholics, liberals, and those who defy categorisation might kneel side by side at the same altar rail. This breadth is both our strength and our burden. It allows us to reflect the full spectrum of human belief and experience, yet it also forces us to confront the tension of living together in difference. But perhaps this is precisely the kind of church the world most needs right now: one that models the difficult art of communion over conformity.
It would be easy, in the present climate, to retreat into camps, to declare winners and losers, or to treat communion as a prize for the pure rather than a calling for the faithful. Yet the Gospel continually reminds us that the Church is not ours to define or divide. It belongs to Christ, who calls us not to perfection, but to faithfulness. The question before us, then, is not how to preserve a fragile uniformity, but how to embody a resilient unity.
This question of unity and leadership has resonated beyond the Church too. The Republic of Ireland has this month elected a new president. The office carries profound moral weight in Irish life, one which will now be carried by Her Excellency Catherine Connolly for the next seven years. The President represents the whole nation — a symbol of what is shared even amidst political divides. In that sense, there is something theological about the presidency: it reminds us that identity and belonging are not earned through agreement, but given through shared citizenship.
As the Book of Common Prayer reminds us in Morning and Evening Prayer, we, in the Republic, are to pray daily ‘for the President, and for all in authority’ just as those in the United Kingdom are to pray daily for the King. To pray for our leaders — whether we voted for them or not — is to affirm a commitment to the common good, to the welfare of all. It is also an act of humility, recognising that authority is a burden as much as it is an honour. The President will need wisdom, courage, and grace in the years ahead, and the Church should be steadfast in its prayers for her.
In these intertwined moments — the Church seeking to hold together amidst theological tension, and the nation uniting around a newly elected head of state — there lies a shared invitation: to rediscover what binds us. Unity, whether ecclesial or civic, is not the absence of disagreement but the presence of respect.
The Church of Ireland has weathered many storms through the centuries. It has known disestablishment, revival, and reform. Yet through it all, it has endured — not because it has always agreed, but because it has continued to gather, to worship, and to pray. As we look ahead to another year of challenge and change, may we do the same: may we come together, not out of convenience, but out of conviction that, in Christ, we belong to one another.
In that belonging lies our hope and strength.