The Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral is a great gift from the Episcopal Church to the wider Anglican Communion. By summarizing Anglicanism as a focus on Scripture, the creeds, the dominical sacraments, and the episcopate, it has served the tradition well.
But there is a case for reforming it.
With the first three “angles” of the “quad,” I have absolutely no concern—the centrality of Scripture, the historic creeds, and the dominical sacraments are a threefold cord that anchors Anglicanism. It is the fourth angle—episcopacy—that arguably needs reform. As is well known, the fourth has often been the sticking point in ecumenical dialogues.
However, I am not questioning the place of episcopacy within Anglicanism’s core definition. Rather,  I am questioning whether there is more to say than the quad currently says. Briefly, there are three reasons: first, the quad over-elevates episcopacy and underplays the local congregation; second, it unhealthily elevates the individual leader; and third, the reform of the quad will invigorate mission at a time when that is deeply needed.
A Possible New Text
Consider a new quadrilateral that define Anglicanism thus:
- The Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, as “containing all things necessary to salvation,” and as being the rule and ultimate standard of faith.
- The Apostles’ Creed, as the Baptismal Symbol; and the Nicene Creed, as the sufficient statement of the Christian faith.
- The two Sacraments ordained by Christ Himself—Baptism and the Supper of the Lord—ministered with unfailing use of Christ’s words of Institution, and of the elements ordained by Him.
- The Historic Episcopate, locally adapted in the methods of its administration to the varying needs of the nations and peoples called of God into the Unity of His Church and local congregations, as the fundamental units of the church.[1]
As you can see, the new quadrilateral is the same as the old, with ten additional words at the end. The first three points are identical. Currently, the only part of the church to which the quad refers is the episcopate. It makes no reference to local congregations. The new quadrilateral corrects that omission—seeing the episcopate and local congregations as the fundamental units of the church.
Remembering the Congregation
One of the glories of Anglicanism is the vast number of congregations it comprises. The Church of England has around 16,000 congregations. There are no figures for the total number of congregations in the Anglican Communion, but it is likely to be well over 1 million. Highly fallible, as all human communities must be, they nevertheless contain glory. They include communities of a handful of people and thousands of people, they represent every possible age and stage, they come from every tribe and language and nation. Some have met for well over 1,000 years, and many are of very recent foundation. Their number is increasing week by week.
This is a present glory, but it is also a past glory.
Most importantly, congregations are central to how the New Testament conceives of Christianity. Local churches are called “the body of Christ … a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, the people of God” and many more equally affirming phrases in Scripture. Paul continually thanks God as he remembers the local churches to which he writes. It is clear that these congregations had all sorts of problems and were highly fragile—yet they are described in such glowing terms. They are spoken of as highly (or more highly?) than individual church leaders. Professor C. Kavin Rowe put it beautifully when he wrote that “Christian communities are the sociological explication of God’s universal Lordship in Christ.”[2]
Who are we to value less what Scripture values so highly?
The same is true of the Christian tradition. One of the glories of Anglicanism is the range of churches, often cared for across centuries. Here in stone and flesh is a deep love for the local. And this chimes with John Henry Newman. Newman emphasized the role that the faithful have in handing down tradition in his On Consulting the Faithful in Matters of Doctrine. He never meant that you govern the church by opinion poll, but that we should listen for the deep, often inarticulate, instinct that sits within individuals and congregations.
This sensus fidelium is not easy to distinguish, but it should not easily be dismissed. And, as it is clear that many lay members of Anglican churches find it easiest to love the local expression of the church over loving the wider church, we might take this sentiment more seriously than we do. If the local congregation is so highly valued by its members, isn’t that an argument for placing it within our key formularies?
And it remains a truth little acknowledged that the scientific consensus—established by an avalanche of research—is that those who attend congregations are healthier and happier than those who do not. Whilst no one would defend congregations on a purely utilitarian basis, this is confirmation of what parishioners and clergy know instinctively. Local churches, usually, do people good.[3]
And to speak highly of congregations is to highly affirm clergy in parish ministry. There is great value in non-parochial ministry, but parish ministry is the core task of Christian ministry. Every parish is challenging in its own way. And, to every clergyman or woman who is in parish ministry, whether your parish is high or low, urban or rural, thriving or struggling, to you I say “respect.” It is testament to the strange days in which we live that it feels like this needs saying. And if we changed the quadrilateral in this manner, it would become easier to say.
And to speak highly of the congregation is to speak highly of the Anglican Communion of which we are part. There are estimates of the number of Anglicans worldwide (100 million is a decent guess), but what is less often considered is the number of Anglican congregations worldwide. It is a wonderful and humbling consideration that when we gather to worship, ponder Scripture and break bread, we do so with millions of other Anglicans and hundreds of thousands of congregations.
The Anglican Communion, in the West, talks of the importance of congregations, but its practice is often very different. There is a consistent trend whereby parishes have lost resources and the center has gained them. Significant numbers of the episcopate seem overly resigned to or relaxed about the shrinkage and closure of parishes. Significant sections of Western Anglicanism define “the kingdom” as something separate from (and even antagonistic to) congregational worship.
Of course, congregations need the episcopate to oversee them and ensure they avoid becoming too parochial. And yes, there is a danger of overstressing the congregation and becoming congregationalist. Congregations are not perfect—ask any parish priest! But an overstress on local congregations is not the biggest danger in contemporary Anglicanism. Arguably, our tradition has never been in danger of exaggerating the importance of the local. It certainly is in danger of succumbing to the heresy that the diocesan authorities or the bishop are the most important part of the church.
Inflated Elevation of the Individual
Is episcopacy of the esse or the bene esse of the church? Pace Archbishop Ramsey’s Gospel and the Catholic Church, I would argue the latter.
This is, in part, because of the times we live in. In an age of Instagram and soundbites, one of the great heresies is the overpromotion of the individual, at the cost of the community. On the American political stage, we focus on Donald Trump and Kamala Harris, not the two major parties, or even core ideas or real proposals. And as we do so, we trivialise and demean.
And by elevating the individual, we place unbearable burdens on those individuals called to the episcopate. They cannot and should not be responsible for everything. Even if they are, as many within the tradition frame them, the guardians and guarantors of the apostolic faith, they can and should only operate, in real practice, as leaders within a community of communities.
Bishops are not the primary unit of the church. Delivering the good news of Jesus, expressing that good news by trinitarian worship and costly love—these can only be done locally, through communities of believers who follow Christ. Such communities are always flawed, can be chaotic, and sometimes go badly wrong. But they are the primary windows through which the light shines. The job of the bishop and diocesan staff, committees, and structures is to help these communities do that job. One might make a case for seeing bishops and such structures as secondary institutions—in that their job is to help the local church to do its job. I say that not to demean the episcopate. Rather, it might take some of the hubris and stress away from  bishops to frame the episcopate in that way.
Implicitly and explicitly, the contemporary episcopate is imagined as a kind of ecclesiastical Clark Kent. Onto bishops we project impossible burdens. Prelates are judged failures if they cannot leap tall buildings at a single bound. But the first apostles were a motley bunch. Why are we surprised that contemporary bishops—like their clergy and laity—sometimes struggle to follow Jesus? If we see them as bishops supporting congregations, the pressure eases. The primary job of bishops is to help congregations to do their job—and the congregation is the primary level of the church.
And by elevating the episcopate we create a further distortion—the divinization of “the diocese.” Diocesan staff and structures exist to support parishes, not the other way round. I remember hearing a senior cleric tell parishioners that their job was “to serve the diocese.” This is nonsense. We serve God in Christ, of course, then we serve the wider community and the people of the local body of Christ of which we are part.
Only in the congregation, where real and messy relationships happen, where we engage in word and sacrament, where people meet the risen Jesus and come to a lively faith, can love be incarnated in a specific place. And so, the parish must increase and diocesan structures, even the bishop, must decrease.
The Missional Fruit
I make my proposal—to insert local congregations into the core formulary of Anglicanism—because I believe it is theologically true and culturally relevant. But I also believe it will bear missional fruit.
There are lots of warm words about congregations by Anglicans in the West, but this is often accompanied by little action, or inept action.
Richard Chartres, former Bishop of London, is almost alone in the Western church, in overseeing substantial, long-lasting congregational growth in his diocese, including the founding of many new congregations. His work built on the work of his predecessor, David Hope. Before them, Anglican London was a byword for decline.
What was the secret? It was very simple: Chartres and Hope saw congregations as hugely important and had faith that they could grow. And during their episcopates, London’s Anglican congregations grew markedly in size and in number. London is the only Western diocese that has not seen serious decline in recent decades. I think its determined focus on growing local churches is why.
Beyond that, while we live in an age of rampant individualism, people are deeply hungry for community. Western individualism has been tried and found wanting. It is not good for man or woman to be alone. The aching loneliness that cripples many cries out for the salve of Christian community. And community primarily happens locally, often in small ways, in obscure places. Congregations are an ancient idea, but they were never more relevant than they are now.
The decline of Anglican congregations in the West can feel relentless. But it is not inevitable. And it is the fatalism visible in many parts of the church that has helped fuel such decline. Once we recognize, following Scripture and the historic traditions of the church, the importance of the local congregation, we will see the potential of local churches rather than seeing them as a problem. And we will be encouraged by the growth of Anglicanism across the globe (for it is growing, fast). And this will bolster our hope that it can be so in the congregations where we find ourselves.
Conclusions
Congregations are anything but perfect. Anyone who spends five minutes in one knows that! But they are places where glory is glimpsed. In them we see Christian faith lived concretely in confusion and compassion, tawdriness and tenderness, stupidity and sanctity. By inserting them into the Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral, I am not suggesting—for a second—that congregations be romanticized. After all, we already include bishops in the quad—and no one seriously thinks that they are perfect!
And you cannot do episcopacy without congregations any more than a priest can celebrate Communion unilaterally. So why not recognize this in the wording of the quadrilateral? Congregations need bishops to keep them on track, but bishops need congregations just as much..
And one welcome side effect of reforming the quad is the new dignity it would give to parish ministry. These last few years, clergy and laity have taken a pounding from COVID, from secularization and from much else, whichever congregation they are part of. In particular, I doff my hat to all parish priests. It is hard, stressful and often painful work. There is no such thing as an “easy” parish. So, to all who tend the vineyard that is the local church: respect. And if rewording the quad nerves the arm of those in (and encourages vocations to) parish ministry, that would be an excellent side effect of a necessary theological shift.
As things stand, it is striking how the congregation is absent from the core definition of being Anglican. Were it to be introduced, it would be a welcome theological reform, but also a boost to mission, placing the local church front and center of Anglican witness—and making it harder to sideline. And it would be a welcome riposte to the rampant individualism of our age.
[1] Additional text in italics.
[2] C. Kavin Rowe, World Upside Down (Oxford: OUP, 2009), p. 126.
[3] For examples of this “avalanche” see: Tanya Luhrmann, When God Talks Back: Understanding the American Evangelical relationship with God, (New York: Knopf, 2012), p. 330.
The Rev. Dr. David Goodhew is vicar of St. Barnabas Church, Middlesbrough, England, and visiting fellow of St John’s College, Durham University.
