A Commonwealth of Grace

Reimagining the Church's Common Life

What kind of Church do we want to be?

It’s been a month that has felt like a collision of contradictions—Holy Week’s solemn beauty, a case of Covid that laid me low for a week, an unexpected pilgrimage to Assisi, and then, almost absurdly, stumbling into the roar of St Peter’s Square just moments after the white smoke rose. Meanwhile, news broke about misconduct in one of our cathedrals, revealing once again a troubling pattern in our Church. In between all this, I enjoyed my first experience as a delegate to the Governing Body (GB) of the Church in Wales. It was there, more than anywhere else, that the real question began to press in: What kind of Church are we—and what kind of Church do we want to be?

I’ve attended many other Anglican provincial synods before, though deliberately not for a long time. These others in the States were occasionally chaotic, often passionate, but unmistakably participatory. Resolutions were debated and voted on, budgets approved, and policies developed through deliberation. Governance felt like shared discernment and the diocese or province something we all had a stake in. Bishop truly governed in synod, most of their decisions and policies requiring ratification by clerical and lay delegates. It was often messy, but it was never inert. Above all, there was a strong sense of a common life together.

I experienced little of this at Governing Body. The Archbishop spoke thoughtfully, the reports were well prepared, and small group discussions, while not always stimulating, offered some friendly conversations. There was a very good bible study. The meals were excellent. Yet, the agenda allowed little room for real deliberation. Though questions could be asked about the reports, only one meaningful resolution was debated and voted on. Much of it, frankly, could have been done by email or Zoom.

None of this surprised me very much. After more than a decade in the Church in Wales, I’ve come to recognise a pattern in our governance that tends to prioritise centralised decision-making and the communication of outcomes over open deliberation. Combined with a sense among many in the pews that participation is rarely meaningful, this dynamic leaves little room for delegates to actively shape policy or direction. In many churches, that might raise eyebrows. But in a context like ours—where significant structural reforms are underway—it feels especially important to reflect on how much can be implemented with relatively little synodical debate or resolution.

The 2012 Church in Wales Review—commonly known as the Harries Report—diagnosed this very dynamic. While it’s often remembered for its call for Ministry Areas, its earliest and most urgent recommendations addressed the nature of synodical life in the Church in Wales.

Unlike other churches in the Anglican Communion, [the Church in Wales] does not have a fully developed system of synodical government. This may save it from some of the cumbersomeness of the system […] but it means that there is no proper flow of ideas and resolutions from parish or deanery to Diocese and from there to the Governing Body and the Representative Body.

This was a call not just for structural change but for a shift toward something more participatory, more responsive, more attuned to the wisdom of the whole Church.

So, in this week’s blog, I want to consider what it would mean for us to reimagine the Church as a commonwealth of grace—a community of lay and ordained alike, entrusted with the shared task of discernment, accountability, and faithful imagination? To put it bluntly: what if we operated less like a corporation and more like a republic?

Synodality in Practice: From Company to Commonwealth

The Church, after all, isn’t a corporate structure but a community shaped by grace, enlivened by mutual love, and united by a shared vocation. As Ephesians 2 reminds us, we’re “no longer strangers and aliens, but fellow citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God.” This is more than a theological claim; it’s a practical call to live as a true household, with a visible and intentional common life. That kind of life demands leadership that’s collaborative, authority that’s accountable, and decisions that are made through collective discernment.

This, in essence, is what synodality means. The term, derived from the Greek syn-hodos—“walking together”—points to more than just a procedural arrangement. It’s a way of being Church: participatory, Spirit-led, and grounded in mutual listening. At its best, synodality enables the whole Body of Christ to discern God’s call together, with each member contributing wisdom, experience, and prayerful insight.

Synodality should be built into our Anglican structures and culture. But this is precisely where the Church in Wales still struggles. Too often, our governing bodies function more as reporting sessions than forums for serious debate and deliberation. Reports are received and presentations given, but real debate is primarily reserved for major decisions like whether or not to bless same-sex partnerships. Rarely do our governing bodies deliberate over the day-to-day issues of the Church.

This very issue was clearly identified in the 2012 Church in Wales Review—the Harries Report. Among its many un-enacted recommendations is a call to revitalise our synodical life. Among its key proposals are:

1. Clarify pathways for motions – Make it explicit, even constitutional, that motions can arise from parishes and deaneries, pass through Diocesan Conferences, and reach the Governing Body. Participation at every level should be both enabled and encouraged.

2. Reform Diocesan Conferences – Consider renaming them “Diocesan Synods” to better reflect their role in discernment, and update election procedures to fit the Ministry Area model.

3. Ensure transparent elections – Require candidates for church bodies to submit manifestos, giving electors meaningful information about candidates and encouraging wider engagement.

These aren’t just bureaucratic changes. They’re the framework for a more participatory Church in which vision isn’t delivered from the top down but shaped from the ground up.

Ministry Areas, despite their growing pains, offer fertile ground for this approach. Properly empowered, they could become places of local discernment, where ministry is shaped by context and lived experience. That grassroots wisdom could then flow into Diocesan Synods, and from there inform the national Church through resolutions that reflect real needs and insights of our congregations and communities. Decisions that affect the whole Church could then be discerned and approved by the whole Church. When the whole Body is engaged in shaping decisions, the Church becomes more faithful, more credible, and more alive.

Synodality and Subsidiarity: Trusting the Whole Body

But this would require a greater sense of subsidiarity. A foundational principle in Catholic social teaching, subsidiarity holds that decisions should be made as locally as possible and only passed upwards when absolutely necessary. It’s about cultivating trust that the Holy Spirit is active not only among bishops or central bodies, but also in local congregations, Ministry Areas, and among lay leaders.

Embracing this principle requires a significant shift in our collective mindset. One of the things that struck me early in my ministry here in the UK is how frequently the Church responds to problems by centralising authority. I used to joke that the entire Soviet Politburo had found second careers in the Church of England and the Church in Wales. We fail to appreciate that overly centralised governance tends to create distance, discouragement, and disengagement. Without subsidiarity, synodality becomes thin—more about performance than participation, more about information sessions than active, shared discernment.

Subsidiarity offers a richer alternative. It calls us to shape a Church where local churches and Ministry Areas aren’t merely consulted but genuinely entrusted as partners in discernment and decision-making. Synods at every level should not only report decisions but help generate them. This is more than a shift in strategy. It’s a theological affirmation of the Body of Christ, where each member brings insight, vocation, and voice.

This doesn’t mean every decision should be made locally, nor does subsidiarity endorse unchecked autonomy. Rather, it’s about balance: local initiative held in communion with the whole Church, grounded in a shared vocation and mutual accountability.

Most importantly, subsidiarity reshapes how we understand leadership. In a Church guided by Anglican principle of bishops in synod, authority isn’t relinquished, but shared deliberately and faithfully. This demands not only courage from leaders, but also a deeper commitment from clergy and laity, who must be ready to engage beyond the local level, offering their insight and imagination in diocesan and provincial life.

A Church That Trusts the Spirit—and One Another

The question we began with—What kind of Church do we want to be?—can’t be answered by vision statements or structural reforms alone. It demands a deeper shift: from a Church that manages to a Church that discerns; from a body that informs to one that listens; from an institution that centralizes to one that entrusts.

The Harries Report saw this clearly. Its call for revitalized synodical life wasn’t just about efficiency but about faithfulness. A Church that truly believes it is the "household of God" must govern like one: with collaboration, transparency, and trust in the Spirit’s work at every level of church life. That means embracing subsidiarity not as a bureaucratic concession but as a theological imperative that honours the wisdom of local communities while holding them in communion with the whole.

This isn’t a distant ideal. The tools are already there: Ministry Areas could become engines of local discernment; Diocesan Synods could foster genuine debate; Governing Body sessions could prioritize deliberation over reporting. But none of this will happen without intentionality—and courage. Leadership must dare to share authority, and laity must dare to claim it.

The future of the Church in Wales depends not on preserving structures but on renewing them, not as ends in themselves, but as vessels for the Gospel. If we’re to be a "commonwealth of grace," then our governance must reflect the God who entrusts, the Spirit who animates, and the Christ who calls us together.