Giving Reform Its Proper Language
A follow-up to 'Beyond the Scaffolding'
My previous post generated some thoughtful and constructive discussion about structural reform—not only within the Church in Wales but across other provinces as well. Some readers felt, however, that I was unfair to the Harries Report, pointing out that its remit was specifically to review the Church ‘with particular reference to its structures and use of resources, to increase the effectiveness of the Church’s ministry and witness.’ In that context, ecclesiology may have been considered a given by the commission. That’s a fair observation, and I appreciate the pushback— it has helped to clarify my thoughts further about where we are now in this monumental move from parishes to Ministry Areas.
In this follow-up post, I want to explore this connection between ecclesiology and structural reform further but also address why the language we use in these reports matters enormously. To illustrate what I mean, I’ll conclude by rephrasing the Report’s preamble to suggest how richer in theology it might have been. You might want to glance at the original report here (especially sections 3, 4, 6 & 8) to get a sense of its language and tone.
Ecclesiology & Structure
To understand why I think ecclesiology is essential to any structural reform, I’ll simply propose five key points:
Ecclesiology is the theology that explores the Church’s nature and vocation. It seeks to answer questions like: What is the Church? and What is the Church for?
The Church is the Body of Christ. Christians are incorporated into this Body through Word and Sacrament, becoming a ‘new creation’ and a ‘holy people’ —living as a household of faith sustained by divine love, which overflows in care for the neighbour.
The Church’s vocation is to proclaim the Kingdom of God by making disciples of all nations, baptizing them, and teaching them to live as citizens of that Kingdom.
The Church is also a sacrament—an outward and visible sign of inward and spiritual mystery. The Church’s structures and actions manifest its nature and calling.
Therefore, any restructuring of the Church must be rooted in and express a clear ecclesiology. To reshape the Church rightly, we must first ground ourselves in a theological understanding of its nature and vocation. Only then can we ensure that structural reforms won’t disconnect the Church’s form from its substance.
Had the authors of the Harries Report accepted something like these points as a premise, they might have rooted their proposals in a more theologically robust and nuanced ecclesiology. Such grounding would not only have shaped the tone and substance of their recommendations but also clarified the deeper purpose behind structural reform. Rather than framing change primarily in terms of systems and resource management, the Report could have placed greater emphasis on nurturing the koinonia (fellowship) it highlights in Section 3—making clear that organizational restructuring is a means to a richer, more faithful expression of the Church’s communal and missional life.
Linguistic Trajectories
My concern, however, isn’t just about ensuring reforms align with the Church’s nature and vocation. The language we use also matters because it shapes how we think about the Church. Without a clear ecclesiology guiding it, the Harries Report leans on language focused more on systems, delivery, and function—terms that reflect a managerial mindset rather than a theological one. And that influences how we begin to think about the Church.
The language we use doesn’t just describe our concepts and priorities—it shapes and directs them. Language sets a trajectory. Just as American political discourse continues to be influenced by the founding vocabulary of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, so too the tone and terms of the Harries Report continue to echo in today’s Church discussions around reform.
Take, for instance, the feedback from our Ministry Area Learning Group due to be presented to the Governing Body later this month. The emphasis remains firmly on structure and efficiency, with little evidence in its conclusions of theological grounding. As Bishop Tim Thornton, the ‘reflector’ at the learning group meeting, pointed out, there is a noticeable absence of mission and evangelism—raising for him questions about the priorities of the Learning Community. And the report’s conclusions seem to confirm his concern. The focus is on subjects like ‘communications enhancement,’ ‘data usage,’ ‘strategic property management,’ ‘emotional resilience,’ and ‘innovation’—concepts that wouldn’t be out of place in a corporate consultancy report.
Again, I’m not saying that these aren’t worthwhile and necessary matters for us to address (despite most people, I suspect, finding them soul-sucking subjects). But there’s a striking lack of language that would signal the Church’s primary calling to proclaim the Gospel, form disciples, and build the Body of Christ. Instead, the framing continues to reflect the managerial ethos established over a decade ago—an ethos that, without a clear ecclesiological anchor, risks turning reform into organisational tinkering. It risks also turning the Church into something that resembles a business franchise more than the household (oikos) of faith that we are called to be.
Ecclesiological Proposal: A Thought-Experiment
So, let me end with a bit of a thought experiment. What if the Harries Report began with a strong, overt, and deeply grounded ecclesiology? What might its tone, direction, and vocabulary have looked like?
To illustrate, here’s a brief reimagining of what such a theological preamble (section 3) could have sounded like:
The Church in Wales, as part of the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church, exists to be a sign, foretaste, and instrument of the Kingdom of God. Rooted in Scripture and shaped by tradition, it proclaims the Gospel as the living truth that in Jesus Christ, God is reconciling all things to himself (2 Cor. 5:19). This identity flows not from function but from communion. As the Body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:12–27), the Church lives from the life of God: called by the Father, united in Christ, and sustained by the Spirit. Our structures are not ends in themselves but expressions of a deeper theological reality and ordered toward building up the Body in love (Eph. 4:11–16).
The Governing Body of the Church in Wales rightly recognises the need for institutional reform in the face of contemporary challenges. But such reform must be rooted in a robust ecclesiology, not a mindset of scarcity. As we affirm in our Eucharistic Prayer, we gather ‘to offer [ourselves] as a living sacrifice’ and are sent out ‘to live and work to [God’s] praise and glory.’ The Church is not merely a vehicle for delivery; it is the very locus of God’s ongoing redemptive action in the world.
Too often, the Church has fallen into patterns of thought shaped by organisational anxiety and managerial logic. Scripture calls us instead to trust in God’s abundance: ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness’ (2 Cor. 12:9). In the feeding of the five thousand (Matt. 14:13–21), Jesus reveals that where the world sees lack, God provides more than enough. The Church, likewise, is called to be a community of abundance, hope, and trust.
This requires a renewed commitment to the formation of the whole people of God. Our own liturgical documents affirm that ministry belongs to all the baptised, and that bishops, priests, and deacons are called ‘to equip God’s people for works of service’. Formation is not simply leadership development; it is lifelong transformation in Christ, shaped by word, sacrament, prayer, and service, that cultivates and grows the abundance of gifts God pours out into his Church
Reform must therefore begin not with efficiency, but with the cross and resurrection. The Church’s identity is cruciform: we die and rise with Christ (Rom. 6:4), and our institutional life must mirror that pattern. Every decision must ask: does this help us proclaim Christ crucified (1 Cor. 1:23), embody his grace, and build a community of reconciliation and mercy?
The proposals that follow are not technical fixes, but part of ongoing spiritual and theological discernment. They must be tested not only by metrics but by how well they nurture evangelism, formation, prayer, and worship—so that the Church in Wales may ever more faithfully proclaim good news, serve in Christ’s name, and witness to God’s redeeming love……
Okay. This was written in about 20 minutes with Covid brain, but I hope it gets my central point across. My rewritten piece still calls for reform, but it's a kind of reform rooted in the Church’s theological identity, shaped by scripture, and centred on mission rather than management. It’s a move from scarcity to abundance, from structure to communion.
So I’ll end with this:
Does it matter if the Harries Report wasn’t shaped by this kind of ecclesiology?
If so, how might that have changed the way Ministry Areas were envisioned and have been brought to life?
And even now—how might embracing such a vision and theological language reshape their future?
I think how we answer these questions will help us to discern not just the kind of Church we’re becoming, but also the kind of Church we believe God is calling us to be.