The Anglican Pro Cathedral of Saint George

10/03/2026

09/26/2026

Why Bishops? Why Priests? Why Deacons? — Understanding the Threefold Ordained Ministry

Walk into an Anglican church and you may encounter a bishop, priest, or deacon.

All three are ordained.

All three are ministers of the Gospel.

All three serve the Church.

But they are not interchangeable.

Why?

Why does the Church have three distinct orders of ordained ministry? Why not simply call everyone a pastor or minister? And what do bishops, priests, and deacons actually do?

For The Ordinariate of Saint George for Chaplaincy, these questions are particularly important because our clergy frequently exercise ministry outside the familiar structures of parish life. A collar in a hospital, military installation, prison, public-service institution, school, or workplace may simply identify someone as “clergy” or “chaplain.”

But the Church understands ordained ministry more deeply.

Anglicanism receives the historic threefold ministry of bishops, priests, and deacons as part of the ordered life of the Church.

This structure was not invented by modern Anglicanism.

Its roots reach back to the earliest centuries of Christianity.

The New Testament speaks of episkopoi—bishops or overseers—and diakonoi—deacons or servants. It also speaks of presbyteroi—presbyters or elders—from which our English word “priest” ultimately developed.

The precise shape and terminology of ordained ministry developed during the earliest generations of the Church, but by the early centuries the pattern of bishop, priest, and deacon was firmly established throughout historic Christianity.

Anglicanism inherited that pattern.

The Preface to the Ordinal traditionally included with the Book of Common Prayer states that “from the Apostles’ time there have been these Orders of Ministers in Christ’s Church; Bishops, Priests, and Deacons.”

That conviction remains fundamental to Anglican ecclesiology.

But understanding the threefold ministry requires us first to reject a common misunderstanding.

Holy Orders are not an ecclesiastical career ladder.

A deacon is not simply an inexperienced priest.

A priest is not simply someone waiting to become a bishop.

And a bishop is not merely a priest who received a promotion.

The three orders possess distinct responsibilities within the life and mission of the Church.

They belong together.

And each reveals something about the ministry of Jesus Christ.

The Deacon: A Ministry of Service

The word deacon comes from the Greek diakonos, associated with service and ministry.

Acts 6 describes the Apostles appointing seven men to attend to the daily distribution within the Christian community so that practical needs would not be neglected while the Apostles continued in prayer and the ministry of the Word.

Although the precise relationship between these seven and the later order of deacons is discussed by scholars, the passage has long helped shape the Church’s understanding of diaconal ministry.

The deacon reminds the Church that Christian ministry is fundamentally service.

At ordination, the deacon is set apart for a ministry particularly associated with assisting the bishop and priests, proclaiming the Gospel, serving those in need, and helping connect the worship of the Church with its mission in the world.

Liturgically, the symbolism is powerful.

The deacon may proclaim the Gospel.

The deacon may prepare the holy table and assist at the Eucharist.

The deacon may dismiss the congregation into the world for Christian service.

These actions tell us something about the order itself.

The deacon stands at a kind of threshold between altar and world.

He reminds the Church that worship cannot be separated from service.

The Gospel proclaimed inside the church must be carried outside its doors.

This has particular significance for chaplaincy.

Much of chaplaincy is profoundly diaconal.

It goes outward.

It seeks people where they actually are.

It notices those whom institutions can overlook.

It enters hospitals, prisons, military communities, workplaces, emergency services, schools, and places of suffering.

The deacon asks a question the Church must never stop asking:

Who needs to be served?

For The Ordinariate of Saint George for Chaplaincy, the diaconate therefore speaks directly to our vocation of presence.

Praesens Inter Servientes — Present Among Those Who Serve.

The deacon embodies that movement outward.

The Priest: A Ministry of Word and Sacrament

The priest shares in the ministry of the bishop and serves under episcopal authority.

He is ordained to preach the Word of God, teach the faith, administer the Sacraments entrusted to his order, pronounce God’s forgiveness, bless, shepherd the people of God, and exercise pastoral care.

The English word priest developed from presbyter, meaning elder. Anglican theology therefore does not understand the priesthood as something independent from the ancient presbyterate of the Church.

The priest is not ordained because Christians require a spiritual celebrity.

He is ordained for service.

His ministry continually points beyond himself.

When he preaches, the subject is not ultimately himself but Christ.

When he baptizes, the person is baptized into Christ.

When he pronounces absolution, the forgiveness proclaimed is God’s.

When he stands at the altar, the Eucharist belongs to Christ and His Church.

When he anoints the sick or ministers to the dying, he does so as a minister of Christ’s mercy.

The priest therefore has a particular responsibility for Word, Sacrament, and pastoral care.

This becomes especially visible in chaplaincy.

Consider the circumstances in which a priest-chaplain may be called.

Someone wants to make a confession after carrying guilt for years.

A hospitalized Christian requests Holy Communion.

A dying person asks for the Church’s prayers.

A service member wants to be baptized.

A family needs pastoral guidance following a death.

Someone who has been away from the Church for decades suddenly asks to speak with a priest.

The priest enters these situations carrying something larger than his personality or professional training.

He carries the ministry entrusted to him by the Church.

This is why Anglican chaplaincy cannot be reduced simply to counseling.

Counseling may be part of chaplaincy.

Listening certainly is.

Crisis intervention, institutional knowledge, ethical awareness, and pastoral skill are enormously important.

But the priest is also a sacramental minister.

He carries the Church’s sacramental life beyond the parish walls.

The altar may be in a chapel, a hospital room, a military field environment, a prison, or another authorized setting.

The surroundings change.

The priestly vocation does not.

The Bishop: A Ministry of Unity, Oversight, and Apostolic Faith

The word bishop comes from the Greek episkopos, meaning overseer.

The bishop occupies a distinctive place within the threefold ministry.

Anglicanism understands the episcopate as belonging to the historic order of the Church and as a visible expression of continuity, unity, oversight, and apostolic ministry.

A bishop is entrusted with guarding the faith, teaching sound doctrine, shepherding the Church, maintaining discipline, ordaining clergy, confirming the baptized according to Anglican order, and providing pastoral oversight to the clergy and people entrusted to his care.

The bishop therefore represents both authority and responsibility.

Those two things must never be separated.

Christian episcopacy is not intended to imitate worldly power.

Our Lord’s understanding of authority is radically shaped by service.

The bishop carries the pastoral staff—the crozier—not principally as a symbol of prestige but because he is called to be a shepherd.

And shepherds are responsible for sheep.

The bishop must therefore care not only about where clergy are sent but about what happens to them after they arrive.

Are they faithful to the Gospel?

Are they keeping their ordination vows?

Are they teaching the faith received by the Church?

Are they exercising ministry ethically?

Are they spiritually healthy?

Are the people entrusted to them being cared for?

Do they need correction?

Do they need encouragement?

Do they need protection?

Do they need rest?

These questions become particularly important within chaplaincy because chaplains often minister at considerable distance from ordinary parish structures.

A chaplain may work day after day under an institutional chain of command or administrative structure that is not ecclesiastical.

That institution may determine schedules, professional responsibilities, access, regulations, and many other aspects of daily work.

But the institution does not make the chaplain a priest or deacon.

The Church does.

And the chaplain remains accountable to the Church.

This is why episcopal oversight matters so much to The Ordinariate of Saint George for Chaplaincy.

Our clergy may be scattered.

Their ministries may differ dramatically.

One may serve within public safety.

Another may work in healthcare.

Another may serve in education, government, the military, corrections, community ministry, or another institutional environment.

What connects them is not necessarily geography.

It is communion, doctrine, sacramental life, common mission, and episcopal oversight.

The bishop helps hold that dispersed ministry together.

He guards the faith into which our clergy are ordained.

He ordains and sends.

He oversees and corrects.

He encourages and shepherds.

He reminds clergy serving far beyond the walls of a parish that they have not become independent religious professionals.

They remain ministers of the Church.

One Ministry, Three Orders

Bishop, priest, and deacon are therefore distinct.

But they should never become competitors.

The Church does not need bishops trying to be princes, priests trying to build personal kingdoms, or deacons treated as though they are merely clergy waiting for a promotion.

Holy Orders exist for the mission of Christ.

The deacon particularly reminds us of service.

The priest particularly embodies the ministry of Word, Sacrament, and pastoral shepherding.

The bishop particularly embodies oversight, unity, apostolic continuity, and the guarding of the faith.

Yet these ministries continually overlap and support one another.

A bishop must still serve.

A priest must still serve.

A deacon proclaims the Gospel and participates deeply in the liturgical and pastoral life of the Church.

And every ordained minister remains first a baptized Christian and disciple of Jesus Christ.

Ordination does not create a superior class of Christians.

It creates obligations.

This is especially important to remember in a jurisdiction devoted to chaplaincy.

A collar does not exist to secure privilege.

A title does not exist to create importance.

A stole is not a decoration.

A crozier is not a royal scepter.

Holy Orders are given for service.

Our Lord demonstrated this on the night before His Crucifixion.

He rose from supper.

He laid aside His garments.

He took a towel.

And He washed His disciples’ feet.

The One Christians call Lord took the position of a servant.

That image should stand behind every discussion of ordained ministry.

Why deacons?

Because the Church must never forget that the Gospel sends us outward in service.

Why priests?

Because Christ continues to gather, feed, forgive, teach, and shepherd His people through the ministry entrusted to His Church.

Why bishops?

Because the Church requires shepherds who guard the apostolic faith, preserve unity and order, ordain and send ministers, and exercise accountable pastoral oversight.

And why all three?

Because the Church’s ministry is larger than any one minister.

For The Ordinariate of Saint George for Chaplaincy, the threefold ministry gives shape to our own vocation.

Our deacons remind us to serve.

Our priests carry Word and Sacrament into places where parish walls may be far away.

Our bishop preserves our unity, guards our doctrine, ordains and sends ministers, and provides oversight to clergy whose ministries may be scattered across many institutions and communities.

Different orders.

Different responsibilities.

One Church.

One mission.

One Lord.

And wherever that ministry takes us, the purpose remains the same: not that the ordained should be served, but that through their ministry the Church may faithfully serve others and bear witness to Jesus Christ.

Praesens Inter Servientes — Present Among Those Who Serve.

Fr. Liam M. Helms
Chancellor and Canon to the Ordinary
The Ordinariate of Saint George for Chaplaincy

09/23/2026

The Daily Office and the Chaplain — How Morning and Evening Prayer Sustain Clergy Serving Difficult Ministries

A chaplain can spend an extraordinary amount of time praying for other people.

At a hospital bedside.

Before a military ceremony.

With a grieving family.

Beside someone preparing for surgery.

With a first responder after a difficult call.

With someone wrestling with guilt, fear, loneliness, or death.

The chaplain prays when others cannot find the words. He carries the concerns of those entrusted to him. He intercedes for people whose burdens may remain with him long after the pastoral encounter has ended.

But there is a question every chaplain must eventually confront:

Who sustains the spiritual life of the person who is continually ministering to everyone else?

For the Anglican chaplain, part of the answer is found in one of the great treasures of our tradition:

The Daily Office.

Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer are not merely shortened substitutes for Sunday worship. Nor are they simply another requirement imposed upon already busy clergy.

They are part of the Church’s ancient discipline of sanctifying the hours of the day through Scripture, psalmody, prayer, confession, praise, and intercession.

For clergy serving in demanding ministries, that rhythm can become a spiritual lifeline.

The roots of daily prayer reach deeply into Holy Scripture.

The Psalms speak repeatedly of prayer offered throughout the day. “Evening, and morning, and at noon, will I pray,” declares Psalm 55. Daniel continued his regular pattern of prayer even when doing so placed his life in danger. The Acts of the Apostles describes Christians praying at appointed hours.

The early Church inherited and developed this pattern.

Over centuries, Christian communities established regular hours of prayer that eventually developed into the various forms of the Divine Office.

The Anglican Reformation did not abandon this ancient discipline.

It reorganized it.

One of the remarkable achievements of Archbishop Thomas Cranmer and the Book of Common Prayer was the consolidation of the older pattern of canonical hours into forms of Morning and Evening Prayer that could become part of the ordinary devotional life of clergy and laity alike.

Matins, Lauds, and Prime contributed to Morning Prayer. Vespers and Compline contributed to Evening Prayer.

The result was something characteristically Anglican: ancient Christian prayer placed into a form intended for the whole Church.

Scripture was read systematically.

The Psalter was prayed regularly.

The great biblical canticles remained.

The Apostles’ Creed was confessed.

Intercession was offered.

Morning and evening were placed within the worship of God.

And generations of Anglican Christians learned to begin and end their days within that rhythm.

For The Ordinariate of Saint George for Chaplaincy, this inheritance has particular importance.

Chaplaincy can be spiritually dangerous precisely because it is ministry.

That may sound strange.

But it is possible to spend an entire day doing religious things while neglecting one’s own relationship with God.

A chaplain can prepare prayers for ceremonies, counsel people about faith, administer Sacraments, discuss theology, visit the sick, comfort the grieving, and speak about God throughout the day without ever becoming quiet before God himself.

Eventually, ministry can begin consuming the spiritual life that is supposed to sustain it.

The Daily Office interrupts that process.

Morning Prayer reminds the chaplain before the demands of the day begin:

You belong to God before you belong to your schedule.

Before the telephone rings.

Before the first appointment.

Before the hospital rounds.

Before the briefing.

Before the emergency.

Before the administrative work.

Before anyone needs anything from you.

There is God.

And there is prayer.

Evening Prayer offers the corresponding discipline at the other end of the day.

The chaplain brings back to God everything he has encountered.

The conversation he cannot forget.

The family whose grief followed him home.

The service member he is worried about.

The patient whose condition deteriorated.

The person he could not help.

The decision he wonders whether he handled correctly.

The suffering he witnessed.

The things left unfinished.

The Office provides a place to put them.

That is especially important because one of the great temptations of pastoral ministry is believing that everything depends upon us.

It does not.

The chaplain is not the Savior.

Jesus Christ is.

There are people we cannot fix.

There are situations we cannot resolve.

There are questions we cannot answer.

There are tragedies we cannot explain.

There are people we will pray for and never see again.

Evening Prayer can become an act of holy relinquishment.

We place those people back into the hands of God.

Not because we no longer care about them, but because ultimately they belong to Him and not to us.

This is one reason the Psalms are so important.

The Psalter does not require the person praying it to pretend that everything is fine.

The Psalms contain joy and thanksgiving, but they also contain fear, anger, confusion, loneliness, repentance, betrayal, exhaustion, grief, and cries for deliverance.

There are days when the chaplain approaches the Office filled with gratitude.

There are other days when he is exhausted.

There may be days when prayer feels consoling and days when it feels dry.

There may even be days when the chaplain does not particularly feel like praying at all.

The Prayer Book does not ask him to manufacture the correct emotion.

It gives him the prayers of the Church.

That distinction matters.

Anglican spirituality does not rest entirely upon spontaneous religious feeling.

We pray because God is worthy of prayer.

We pray because the Church prays.

We pray because Scripture commands prayer.

And sometimes we allow the words of the Church to carry us when our own words are inadequate.

A chaplain who has spent the day helping others through grief may discover his own grief in the Psalms.

A chaplain frustrated by injustice may encounter the biblical language of lament.

A chaplain conscious of his own failures begins again with confession.

A chaplain who has seen something beautiful encounters praise.

A chaplain frightened by circumstances beyond his control hears again the promises of God.

The Office gradually teaches us that we do not have to invent our spiritual lives every morning.

We receive them.

There is another important dimension to this discipline.

The Daily Office reminds the chaplain that he belongs to the Church.

Chaplaincy often takes place away from ordinary parish structures.

The chaplain may spend far more time in a hospital, military installation, prison, police department, fire station, school, or other institution than he spends surrounded by fellow clergy.

That isolation can subtly reshape ministerial identity.

The institution begins establishing the rhythm of life.

Its language becomes familiar.

Its mission becomes immediate.

Its emergencies become our emergencies.

Those relationships are real and important. A good chaplain should understand the institution and genuinely share the lives of the people he serves.

But the chaplain must remember who sent him.

He remains a minister of the Church.

Morning and Evening Prayer quietly reinforce that identity.

When the Anglican chaplain opens the Prayer Book, he is not practicing a private spirituality invented for himself.

He enters the common prayer of the Church.

Somewhere else another priest is praying.

Another deacon is praying.

Another bishop is praying.

Lay Christians are praying.

Religious communities are praying.

Across countries, cultures, jurisdictions, and generations, Christians have opened these same Psalms and proclaimed these same biblical canticles.

The chaplain who may feel professionally isolated discovers that he is spiritually surrounded by the Church.

That is one reason the word common in The Book of Common Prayer matters.

Our prayer is never entirely solitary.

Even when Morning Prayer is said alone in an office before sunrise, it remains the prayer of the Church.

For our Ordinariate, this also connects directly with our motto:

Praesens Inter Servientes — Present Among Those Who Serve.

We speak frequently about presence because presence lies at the heart of chaplaincy.

Our clergy are called to be present in hospitals, military communities, prisons, public-service institutions, workplaces, schools, care facilities, and wherever else the Church sends them.

But Christian presence cannot be sustained indefinitely through personality, professionalism, or goodwill.

Before the chaplain can remain faithfully present to others, he must continually return to the presence of God.

Otherwise, ministry can become performance.

Compassion can become exhaustion.

Service can become resentment.

The collar can remain while the interior life underneath it becomes dangerously empty.

The Daily Office does not magically prevent burnout or eliminate the need for rest, healthy boundaries, spiritual direction, fellowship, or responsible pastoral supervision.

But it establishes something indispensable:

a daily return to God.

Morning by morning.

Evening by evening.

Not only when ministry is going well.

Not only when we feel particularly spiritual.

Not only when we have enough spare time.

The rhythm itself forms us.

This is why clergy formation within The Ordinariate of Saint George for Chaplaincy must be concerned with more than academic competence or professional chaplaincy skills.

A chaplain must certainly know theology.

He should understand pastoral care.

He must learn the ethical responsibilities of institutional ministry.

He needs religious literacy, emotional maturity, appropriate boundaries, and professional competence.

But none of those things can substitute for a life of prayer.

We cannot continually give people what we ourselves have stopped receiving.

The chaplain who speaks about grace must himself live by grace.

The chaplain who tells others to trust God must himself continually learn trust.

The chaplain who carries the prayers of the Church into moments of crisis must himself be formed by those prayers.

The chaplain who bears Christ’s presence among those who serve must himself spend time in the presence of Christ.

This is the quiet work of the Daily Office.

There may be no dramatic spiritual experience.

No one may ever know that it happened.

There may simply be a priest or deacon sitting somewhere early in the morning with a Prayer Book open before him.

A Psalm.

A lesson from Scripture.

The Benedictus.

The Apostles’ Creed.

The Lord’s Prayer.

The Collects.

Intercession.

Then the book closes, and the day’s ministry begins.

Hours later, perhaps after a day that unfolded very differently from what was expected, the book opens again.

The Magnificat.

The Nunc Dimittis.

Scripture.

Prayer.

The concerns of the day are brought before God.

And tomorrow the rhythm begins again.

There is something beautifully ordinary about it.

And that is precisely the point.

The spiritual life is formed not only through extraordinary moments but through ordinary faithfulness repeated over a lifetime.

Saint George, our patron, reminds us of fidelity to Christ when fidelity becomes costly.

Most acts of fidelity, however, will never look like martyrdom.

Sometimes fidelity looks like opening the Prayer Book when we are tired.

Sometimes it means praying the Psalms when we would rather sleep.

Sometimes it means allowing Scripture to speak before the noise of the day begins.

Sometimes it means ending the day by admitting that God remains awake even when we cannot.

The chaplain goes into difficult places because the Church sends him there.

But he should never go alone.

He carries Holy Scripture.

He carries the prayers of the Church.

He carries the sacramental life into which he has been ordained.

And above all, he goes in the presence of Jesus Christ.

Morning and evening, the Daily Office brings him back to that truth.

Before we are chaplains, we are Christians.

Before we are ministers, we are disciples.

Before we speak, we must listen.

Before we serve, we must receive.

Before we become present among those who serve, we must continually return to the One who is always present with us.

Praesens Inter Servientes — Present Among Those Who Serve.

Fr. Liam M. Helms
Chancellor and Canon to the Ordinary
The Ordinariate of Saint George for Chaplaincy

09/19/2026

Serving People Who Believe Differently Than We Do — Christian Conviction Alongside Genuine Pastoral Respect

One of the most important questions facing a Christian chaplain is also one of the most practical: How do we faithfully serve people who do not believe what we believe?

It is a question that cannot be avoided in chaplaincy.

A military chaplain may serve alongside Christians from several denominations, Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, Hindus, atheists, agnostics, and people who have never given much thought to religion at all. A hospital chaplain may enter the room of someone whose religious convictions are entirely different from his own. A prison chaplain may encounter individuals whose spiritual lives have been shaped by traditions he does not share.

Some will welcome Christian prayer. Some will request the ministry of another religious tradition. Some will want to discuss God. Some will want nothing to do with religion. And some will simply need someone to sit beside them.

For The Ordinariate of Saint George for Chaplaincy, this is not a secondary concern. It belongs to the very heart of our vocation.

Our motto, Praesens Inter Servientes — Present Among Those Who Serve, does not say that we are present only among those who share our theology, belong to our Church, or agree with our convictions.

We are called to be present among those who serve.

That calling requires us to understand something essential about Christian ministry: We do not have to abandon our convictions in order to respect another person’s conscience. And we do not have to agree with someone in order to love and serve them faithfully.

These are not competing obligations. They belong together.

The starting point for Christian pastoral care is not whether someone agrees with us. It is the dignity of the human person.

Genesis tells us that humanity was created in the image and likeness of God. That declaration comes before the formation of Israel, before the establishment of the Church, and before the distinctions of religious affiliation that shape so much of human history.

Every human being possesses dignity because every human being bears the image of God.

That dignity is not earned through correct theology. It is not dependent upon church membership. It is not lost because someone rejects Christianity. It does not disappear because someone has committed a crime, made terrible decisions, embraced another religion, or professes no faith at all.

The Christian chaplain must begin here.

The person before us is not first a theological disagreement to be resolved. He or she is a human being. Someone’s son or daughter. Someone’s husband or wife. Someone’s parent. Someone who may be frightened, exhausted, grieving, lonely, confused, angry, or simply trying to make it through another day.

That person deserves to be treated with dignity.

Not because we have set aside our Christian faith, but precisely because of what our Christian faith teaches us.

Our Lord commands us to love our neighbor. He does not limit that command to neighbors who share our beliefs.

Indeed, in the parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus deliberately places the example of neighborly love in the actions of someone belonging to a community whose religious relationship with the Jewish people was marked by profound historical tensions.

The Samaritan does not begin by interrogating the wounded man about his religious convictions. He sees someone in need. He draws near. He binds his wounds. He provides for his care.

And Jesus concludes: “Go, and do thou likewise.” — Luke 10:37

That command should be taken seriously by every Christian chaplain.

There is a temptation in some institutional settings to imagine that the only way to provide genuinely inclusive pastoral care is to become religiously indistinct.

Under this approach, the chaplain gradually becomes a generic spiritual professional. Christian language is avoided. Doctrinal convictions are treated as private inconveniences. The distinctive identity of the Church is pushed so far into the background that it eventually becomes difficult to explain what makes the chaplain a Christian minister at all.

We do not believe that this is necessary.

The Ordinariate of Saint George for Chaplaincy is an Anglican Christian jurisdiction.

Our clergy are formed within the Anglican tradition. We confess the historic Creeds. We receive Holy Scripture as the authoritative witness to God’s revelation. We worship within the sacramental and liturgical inheritance of the Church. Our ordained ministers remain accountable to ecclesiastical authority and to the promises made at ordination.

None of these things disappears when a chaplain enters a military installation, hospital, prison, school, police station, firehouse, or workplace.

The chaplain does not cease to be Anglican when he walks through the institution’s doors. He does not cease to be Christian when the person before him is not. And he does not need to pretend otherwise.

But neither does his Christian identity grant him permission to disregard another person’s conscience.

There is a difference between being faithful to one’s religion and imposing that religion upon someone else.

A chaplain who cannot recognize that distinction has misunderstood an essential part of institutional pastoral ministry.

We can be entirely clear about what we believe while being equally clear that another person must not be pressured, manipulated, or coerced into accepting it.

Christian conviction and pastoral respect can coexist. Indeed, they should.

Anglicanism brings a particularly valuable inheritance to this discussion.

The historic Anglican tradition is deeply concerned with the relationship between faith, conscience, authority, and the life of the Church.

Article VI of the Thirty-Nine Articles establishes Holy Scripture as containing all things necessary to salvation. Article XX places limits upon the authority of the Church, teaching that the Church may not ordain anything contrary to God’s written Word or require as necessary to salvation what cannot be established from Scripture. Article ###IV recognizes that particular or national churches may possess differing traditions and ceremonies, provided these are not contrary to the Word of God.

These Articles do not establish a modern theory of religious liberty, nor should we pretend that the history of Anglicanism has always been characterized by religious tolerance. Anglican history includes periods of coercion, persecution, and serious conflict over religious conformity.

We should acknowledge that history rather than romanticize it.

Nevertheless, our theological inheritance provides important resources for thinking carefully about authority, the limits of ecclesiastical power, and the relationship between faith and conscience.

The Anglican chaplain must understand the difference between the authority of the Church over its own ministers and members and the pastoral responsibility he exercises toward those who do not belong to it.

We cannot demand Anglican conformity from someone who has not chosen to be Anglican. We cannot require a Muslim patient to receive Christian prayer. We cannot assume that a Jewish service member wants Christian language incorporated into a religious observance. We cannot presume that an atheist who requests pastoral support secretly desires conversion.

And we cannot treat a person’s vulnerability as an opportunity to disregard clearly expressed religious boundaries.

Respecting those boundaries does not compromise the Gospel. It is part of treating our neighbor with dignity.

This becomes especially important when people are vulnerable.

Consider a patient lying in a hospital bed. The patient may be frightened, physically weak, dependent upon others, and uncertain about what will happen next.

Or consider a prisoner. A prisoner may have limited freedom, restricted access to religious resources, and little control over who enters the room.

A service member may worry about how declining a chaplain’s invitation could affect a professional relationship.

These circumstances create responsibilities for the chaplain.

The pastoral relationship must never become an instrument of coercion.

We should not exploit suffering to secure a religious commitment. We should not make someone feel that compassionate care depends upon accepting our theology. We should not assume that because someone has asked for a chaplain, that person has consented to every form of religious ministry the chaplain might wish to offer.

There is a simple pastoral discipline that can prevent a great deal of harm: Ask rather than assume.

“Would you like me to pray with you?”

“Is there someone from your own religious tradition you would like me to contact?”

“Would you prefer that I simply sit with you for a while?”

“Is there anything about your faith or beliefs that would be helpful for me to understand?”

These are not signs of weak Christian conviction. They are signs of pastoral attentiveness.

And sometimes the most appropriate thing an Anglican chaplain can do is help someone receive ministry from a religious leader whose beliefs are different from his own.

A Muslim patient may need an imam. A Jewish service member may need a rabbi. A Roman Catholic patient may request a Roman Catholic priest. A person belonging to another Christian denomination may wish to receive the Sacraments or pastoral care according to that tradition.

The Anglican chaplain should understand the boundaries of his own sacramental ministry while helping the person obtain appropriate care.

We do not have to pretend that all religious traditions are interchangeable. They are not.

Their teachings differ. Their understandings of God differ. Their sacramental practices differ. Their approaches to prayer, salvation, and religious authority differ.

Those differences deserve to be taken seriously.

But taking them seriously also means respecting the religious identity of the person before us.

Helping someone receive the religious care he or she actually desires is not a betrayal of our own faith. It is an act of pastoral integrity.

Christian chaplaincy remains a ministry of witness. That must not be forgotten.

The chaplain is not simply a social worker with a religious title, although chaplains and social workers may work closely together. He is not merely a counselor, although pastoral counseling may form part of his responsibilities. He is not simply an institutional representative tasked with maintaining morale.

He is a minister of Jesus Christ.

And the Church has entrusted him with the responsibility to bear witness to the Gospel.

But Christian witness should never be confused with religious salesmanship.

The Gospel is not a product. The suffering person is not a prospective customer. And pastoral encounters are not opportunities to accumulate religious victories.

The First Epistle of Saint Peter instructs Christians to be prepared to give an answer concerning the hope within them, but to do so with meekness and reverence (1 Peter 3:15).

Both parts matter.

We should be prepared to explain our faith. We should not be embarrassed by Jesus Christ. We should not conceal our convictions merely because they may be unpopular.

But the manner of our witness must reflect the character of the One whom we proclaim.

A chaplain may be asked directly: “Do you believe Jesus is the only way to God?”

An Anglican Christian chaplain should not feel compelled to disguise the Church’s confession of Christ.

He can answer truthfully.

But he should also listen carefully to why the question is being asked.

Is the person genuinely exploring Christianity? Is someone grieving the death of a loved one who belonged to another religion? Is the question arising from fear? Is the person testing whether the chaplain will respect him?

The same theological question may arise from very different human circumstances.

Pastoral wisdom requires us to recognize the difference.

Truth should not be abandoned. But neither should charity.

Our patron offers an important reminder here.

Saint George is remembered by the Church as a Christian martyr who remained faithful to Christ despite the demands of earthly authority.

His witness reminds us that Christian fidelity sometimes requires courage.

For our chaplains, that courage may mean maintaining Christian identity in an environment where religious convictions are misunderstood or unwelcome. It may mean defending another person’s freedom of conscience when doing so is inconvenient. It may mean respectfully declining to participate in a religious act that would violate one’s own convictions.

It may mean challenging the assumption that every person within an institution should be treated as though he or she possesses the same religious beliefs.

And sometimes it means standing beside someone whose worldview is profoundly different from our own, offering genuine compassion without expecting anything in return.

Courage is not always confrontational.

Sometimes courage is the willingness to remain faithful and charitable at the same time.

Saint George reminds us that we belong to Christ. The ministry of chaplaincy reminds us that Christ sends us to serve our neighbors.

Both truths must remain together.

For The Ordinariate of Saint George for Chaplaincy, these principles must be more than attractive language.

They should shape our formation. They should guide our clergy. They should inform our institutional relationships. They should influence how we understand pastoral responsibility.

A chaplain formed within our Ordinariate should know the Anglican faith well enough to explain it without embarrassment.

He should understand the historic Creeds, the Scriptures, the Prayer Book, the Sacraments, and the doctrinal inheritance of the Church.

He should also understand that chaplaincy requires religious literacy beyond his own tradition.

He should know when to refer someone to another religious leader. He should understand the importance of consent and confidentiality. He should recognize the power imbalances that may exist in institutional ministry. He should be capable of listening without immediately correcting.

He should know how to distinguish between an invitation to discuss Christianity and a request for compassionate human presence.

Above all, he should understand that his responsibility to serve does not depend upon the religious agreement of the person before him.

Our motto expresses this beautifully:

Praesens Inter Servientes — Present Among Those Who Serve.

We do not ask whether someone shares our theology before deciding whether that person deserves compassion.

We do not require agreement before offering pastoral attention.

We do not demand conversion as the price of kindness.

And we do not abandon our Christian identity in order to make that service possible.

We are Anglican. We are Christian. We are ministers of Jesus Christ. And we are called to serve.

The Church’s mission is not diminished when its ministers treat people of other faiths, or of no faith, with genuine dignity. It is dishonored when they fail to do so.

Our Lord’s command remains:

“Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” — Mark 12:31

That command does not require us to agree with every belief our neighbor holds.

It requires us to love our neighbor.

And love, properly understood, is never an excuse for dishonesty, coercion, contempt, or indifference.

It calls us to something better.

Conviction without arrogance. Respect without religious anonymity. Witness without manipulation. Charity without compromise.

May these principles guide the clergy and chaplains of The Ordinariate of Saint George for Chaplaincy wherever they are sent.

May we remain faithful to the Church that sends us, respectful of the people entrusted to us, and steadfast in our witness to Jesus Christ.

And may every person who encounters our ministry, whether Anglican or not, Christian or not, believer or unbeliever, be treated with the dignity that belongs to one created in the image of God.

Praesens Inter Servientes — Present Among Those Who Serve.

Per Crucem, Ad Lucem, In Fide

Fr. Liam M. Helms
Chancellor and Canon to the Ordinary
The Ordinariate of Saint George for Chaplaincy