When Frederick Temple, the Bishop of London, became the Archbishop of Canterbury in 1896 at the age of 75, it was widely thought that he was moving to ‘a lighter job’. 130 years later, no one seems to think Sarah Mullally has done the same. This may underestimate the complexities of governing one of the largest dioceses in the Church of England. It may also ignore how Justin Welby’s resignation and the subsequent long vacancy at Canterbury have lowered the expectations on Anglicanism’s most senior cleric. There seems to be a widespread longing for a quieter pastoral stability.
This well-researched biography by Andrew Atherstone introduces us to a largely consensual and relational leader who is nevertheless willing to deal with conflict rather than avoid it. Sarah Mullally was rapidly given more responsibilities as a nurse, culminating in her appointment as the youngest ever Chief Nursing Officer for England when only 37. She has had an almost equally fast rise to prominence in the ordained ministry of the Church of England. To describe her as ‘a safe pair of hands’ seems dismissive, yet she has commented that her memorial stone may say ‘she chaired a good meeting’, a reflection of her dry humour. While Mullally’s life has not been full of great drama or personal crises (as far as one can tell), her story is nonetheless compelling. Atherstone describes her secure family upbringing in Woking and how the nurture of an evangelical parish church helped to form the Christian faith of a teenager whose parents were sympathetic but not regular worshippers. (By contrast, her grandparents were very much part of the life of St John’s, Woking.) Here, we see the Church of England doing its work well at parish level, including in the opportunities for ministry given to Mullally as a layperson in her twenties and thirties in a south London parish where its clergy mostly had serious reservations about the ordination of women.
The gracious yet determined way Mullally negotiated her way forward in such ecclesiastical environments has guided her later ministry. Her ability to work creatively with those opposed to the ordination of women is unusually strong; a token of her inner spiritual confidence rather than a consequence of timidity. She has become a trusted bishop at a time when trust in the episcopate has been in short supply in the Church of England.
In the background of this story is Mullally’s husband, Eamonn, and their children, Grace and Liam (aged just eight and three when she became Chief Nursing Officer). It’s a tribute to them all that the family seems so close and united, but there is not much explanation about how this has been achieved, although we do learn Mullally likes to divide her daily diary into 15-minute chunks. Her work ethic is undeniable.
Atherstone examines Mullally’s sermons, especially during her time at Salisbury, to explore her theological development and finds a strong emphasis on building a community of faith ‘where all are welcome, insiders and outsiders, a place of healing, a place of prayer, a place of anointing, a place of forgiveness and a place of compassion’. The practice of ‘compassion’ unites Mullally’s vision of both nursing and ministry and about which she has spoken (along with kindness) as priorities for her ministry at Canterbury. All this may seem unexceptional, but one of the criticisms of the Church of England under Justin Welby’s leadership was that it had become a less kindly institution, as he experienced for himself at the time of his resignation.
Recent Archbishops of Canterbury have found presiding over the Anglican Communion both demanding and painful, and it was thought a female archbishop would make it even more taxing. Although the ruptures within the Communion are now long-standing, 32 out of 42 Anglican provinces were represented at Mullally’s installation, with 26 Anglican Primates present, a significant number. Sarah Mullally is very unlikely to exercise an authority over the Anglican Communion she does not possess but may rebuild an unthreatening primacy of honour. Her capacity for patiently building relationships may be exactly what is needed for our times.
Archbishop Desmond Tutu used to describe the Anglican Communion as ‘untidy’ but ‘very lovable’. It’s still untidy but has not been lovable for a while. Mullally seems to cope with untidiness in institutions and may even be able to help both the Church of England and the Anglican Communion to become more lovable again. As she has shown in both her nursing career and her ministry so far, she presides carefully and kindly over the institutions committed to her charge. Her ministry as archbishop may not be ‘a lighter job’ than being Bishop of London, but if she relaxes into her role, the light of the compassionate Christ, whom Atherstone identifies as animating her life, may become apparent, to the benefit of all Anglicans, and many well beyond the Church.
The Rt Revd Graham James
Formerly Bishop of Norwich
The Rt Revd Graham James is a former Bishop of Norwich and was Chaplain to two Archbishops of Canterbury (1987–1993)