From Cheap Grace to Genuine Change: Will the Anglican Church Apology Live Up to Its Promise?

Recently, Anglican Church Southern Queensland Synod made headlines with a significant move: endorsing an apology to LGBTIQA+ individuals for the harm inflicted upon them and their communities by the church. This gesture, spearheaded by Archbishop Jeremy Greaves, followed a two-year listening process aimed at crafting an apology that would resonate deeply. But before we break out the celebratory confetti, let's take a closer look at whether this apology is a step towards genuine healing or just another sermon in the guise of a feel-good moment.

In his address, Archbishop Greaves framed the apology as a starting point, emphasising the need for transformation in behaviours, language, and policies—a bit like a religious New Year’s resolution that sounds promising but is tested by long-term commitment. However, delivering this apology via teleprompter in an empty cathedral felt like a drag queen performing to an empty theatre: it was polished but essentially performative.

Offering a heartfelt apology to LGBTIQA+ folks with no one around to hear it seems like a gesture done for show rather than genuine change. True progress requires more than grand gestures; it demands real, actionable commitment. Otherwise, it risks just sweeping the issue under the rug and hoping no one notices. A preacher should understand that it's not just about the words but about the delivery ensuring the apology genuinely reaches and resonates with those it’s meant to help.

However, as someone who has experienced significant hurt and trauma within this diocese, I can’t help but feel that this apology might be slipping into the realm of “cheap grace.” Imagine receiving a beautiful bouquet of flowers after a terrible argument, only to discover they’re plastic. Nice sentiment, but you can’t exactly plant them in your garden of trust.

Here’s where it gets really interesting—or rather, troubling. The video of the apology on YouTube was met with an unexpected twist: my comment, where I shared my personal experience of being hurt by this diocese and my subsequent disillusionment, was deleted, and all comments were disabled. It’s like the church’s version of pulling down the blinds and pretending nobody’s home when the doorbell rings. If transparency were an Olympic sport, this would be a disqualification.

Censorship in this context feels like a bad magic trick. “Watch as we make criticism disappear!” The irony is that an apology meant to foster openness and healing is followed by an act of shutting down dialogue. This not only undermines the apology but also suggests that some uncomfortable truths are better left unsaid.

For this apology to be more than just a shiny new sermon, it needs to be followed by some serious action:

Policy Changes: It’s time to dust off those outdated policies and give them a makeover. If the church’s policies were fashion trends, they’d be stuck in the 1950s—time for an upgrade to something a bit more modern and inclusive.

Behavioral Shifts: Training programs are a must. If clergy and church members were actors, they’d need a script rewrite to reflect new, more inclusive roles. Practice makes perfect—so let’s practice respect and inclusivity.

Ongoing Dialogue: Establish forums where LGBTIQA+ voices can be heard without fear of being muzzled. Imagine it as a new season of a reality show—“Real Conversations: Church Edition.” It’s about keeping the dialogue lively and engaging.

Accountability: Develop mechanisms to hold the church accountable for its promises. Think of it as a spiritual accountability partner—someone (or something) to keep us all on track and honest.

The apology endorsed by the synod is a significant step, but if it’s to be more than a symbolic gesture, it must be accompanied by meaningful change. The recent move to delete critical comments and disable feedback channels is akin to putting a band-aid on a gaping wound—it's not fooling anyone. If the church truly wants to heal and move forward, it needs to embrace transparency, engage in genuine dialogue, and implement real, lasting changes. Only then can the apology become a genuine catalyst for healing and justice.

After all, apologies are like recipes—without the right ingredients, they’re just empty calories. Let’s hope this one has the substance to back up its promises.

You can view the video on YouTube here:


Image Source: Fake Flowers, etsy.com

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If you're feeling down after reading this post, click here to find some cheer and enjoy a cartoon by David Hayward that captures its irony.