In God’s Field Hospital
Saturday 31 January 2026, Evensong with the Commissioning of LBGTQI+ Chaplains
The Very Reverend Nicholas Papadopulos, Dean of Salisbury
Hosea 8
1 Corinthians 12:1-11
If the Church of God really is the field hospital of which the late Pope Francis spoke then its ministers – its chaplains – are on its front line. They are its ambulance drivers: they accompany the casualties of war to places of safety. They are its stretcher bearers: they carry the heavy burdens of the wounded. They are its anaesthetists: they draw the sting out of their festering hurt. They are its nurses: they hold their hands, they give them time, and they listen.
‘So many people need their wounds healed. This is the mission of the Church’ said the late Pope, and it is to this mission that you who are being commissioned tonight are called. Paul writes that there are varieties of gifts, varieties of services, and varieties of activities, but that there is one Spirit, one God – one God who activates all of them in all of us. Make no mistake: yours is a God-given and Spirit-filled ministry. You are the paramedics of God’s field hospital.
The vocation of paramedics is to pursue the healing of those who are in their care. You may find yourselves reassuring the wounded: ‘God loves you just the way you are’. It’s comforting, and it’s true. But it’s not the whole truth. ‘God loves you, and so God longs for your healing’. That’s closer to it. God loves you just the way you are, but God doesn’t want you to remain just the way you are. God longs for your healing – God longs for all our healing. Healing from the wounds of fear and guilt and shame – from the wounds of ignorance and prejudice, from the wounds of self-hate and of others’ hate.
But how? What are the contents of the first-aid kit which you will carry? Your attentive listening as stories are told. Your wisdom in reflecting on what you hear. Your patient habit of prayer, with and for those in your care. But above all, the sovereign remedy that you will bear to those among whom you will minister, a sovereign remedy for all ills. Not a linctus, a lozenge, or a lotion, but the presence of Christ. For if your ministry is God-given and Spirit-filled then in your words and in your gestures the face of Christ will be seen and the hands of Christ will be felt and the voice of Christ will be heard. A face that bore a crown of thorns; hands that were nailed to a cross; a voice that cried out in agony – yet a face now turned to the world in forgiveness, hands now stretched out to console, and voice that speaks only of God’s love. Through your ministry healing will be offered to all who need healing.
And the tragic reality is that the healing which you will offer will far too often be the healing of wounds inflicted by the Church, wounds inflicted on the battlefield which the Church far too often resembles. To our shame, our Church remains one of the few places in England in which institutional discrimination is permitted and, indeed, endorsed. We offer a radical welcome to our buildings and our worship; we utter protestations of God’s unconditional love in our teaching; we give every assurance to the public square that our Church’s unique charism is the service of England and of the whole of England. And every one of these welcomes, every one of these protestations, and every one of these assurances is damaged, exposed, and undermined by our insistence that some are slightly less welcome than others; that God’s love knows no bounds…except for this one; and that our commitment to serve every community does in fact have its limits.
Isaiah promises that when God’s errant people sow a wind they shall reap a whirlwind: in pursuing her current course our errant Church places herself in grave danger of the whirlwind that is to come. We will not sustain our mission in the twenty-first century if we cannot act justly.
One of the gifts of which Paul writes is the gift of prophecy, and the presence of you who are being commissioned alongside those whom the Church has hurt is of enormous consequence for us all. It is nothing short of prophetic. For your every encounter will be about welcome, love, and service. You will not defend or excuse the Church, but you will embody a ministry that the Church cannot or will not embrace. You will point her in the direction she must ultimately take.
And, ultimately, she will. The field hospital will be packed up and, thank God, your paramedic ministry will no longer be vitally necessary in our common life.
But the faith that has brought you here tonight, the hope that you represent tonight, and the love that you express tonight – this faith, this hope, and this love – will always be necessary. And, as Epiphany draws to a close, they will shine star-like in a cynical and untrusting world and will be a sign for many that God has indeed made his home among his people. Amen.