My Lords, it is a pleasure to take part in this debate. When I saw on the speakers’ list that my name was figured there, with a B denoting Baroness, I thought that an instant act of transgendering had happened. I then thought that if that could happen at a stroke, perhaps whatever is preventing these marriages taking place can happen with similar prestidigitation. So I rise with the deepest voice that I can command in order to reassure Members of this House.
I am very grateful that the matter has been brought before us. The noble Lord, Lord Deben, explained that the 1949 Act was framed as it was by a Government, or a Parliament, who did not want to upset the established Church. As a Methodist minister I have never worried about upsetting the established Church and I reckon that I might do a little of that in my remarks now.
The noble Lord went on to talk about fudge. I remember reading Seven Types of Ambiguity, a great classical book that we Eng. Lit. students used to read. I think that we have had seven types of fudge, delineated very carefully and skilfully by the noble Lord, Lord Deben. I shall not run away from it, and I shall certainly not indulge in fudge in the hand-wringing, liberal, stereotypical way that was referred to dismissively on the Benches opposite: someone married in the Guards’ Chapel might just feel that giving orders to
Methodists is a good thing. I feel that fudge can be a very good, and in a theological sense, a very necessary thing: at the end of the day, however righteous, righteously established and brilliantly organised any Church body might be it cannot claim to have all the wisdom that can be possessed, all the experience that points to correct action. Humbly, under God, even Churches must recognise a higher power. That granted, fudge becomes an honourable thing. I have surfed on the waves of fudge through 50 years of Methodist ministry. Much of the fudge has been necessary, as I have had to discover ways of relating to the established Church.
The noble Lord, Lord Deben, also talked about the way non-Anglicans can easily be edged out in ecumenical experiences. I have more experience of being edged out than most people—I have been hidden behind pillars; I have had arguments. I was a canon of St Paul’s Cathedral for 17 years. Organising a procession to go into a service at St Paul’s Cathedral—what the public do not see, in the Dean’s Aisle, behind the curtain—is an extraordinary thing. Precedence is what it is all about. Those of us who are honorary canons must understand our place, between the proper canons, the retired canons, the canons emeriti and those who thought they were canons but never were. It is a terrific thing to have to find your place in all of that when all you are is a Methodist minister.