The Rt Revd Stephen Lowe writes:
THERE are many who owe a deep debt of gratitude for the life and ministry of David Lunn. A serious church historian, a thoughtful liberal theologian, a committed educator, an outstanding Bishop of Sheffield, he was, above everything, a committed parish priest.
He was born at Elswick in Newcastle, brought up at Low Fell and Cullercoats, and schooled at Tynemouth. Like many generations of his ancestors, in his words, he was very much a pure-bred Geordie. Such was his academic ability, he went to King’s, Cambridge, to study history and theology, and then to Cuddesdon, before his ordination in Newcastle Cathedral in 1955. There followed parishes on Tyneside before he was appointed as Chaplain and Sub-Dean of Lincoln Theological College, where the then Dean, Alan Webster, recognised the qualities of his colleague.
In 1970, in what David saw as a golden period in his ministry, there was a return as Vicar and then Rector of his beloved home parish of St George’s, Cullercoats. He was also Rural Dean of Tynemouth for the last five years of his ten there. He relished and remembered with great fondness his time there, and a painting of Cullercoats was on his wall in Sheffield and, to the end of his life, in Wetwang.
Then, out of the blue (though I suspect Alan Webster had a hand in it somewhere), came the invitation to be Bishop of Sheffield in 1980. It was, to put it mildly, unusual to move to diocesan bishop from parish priest. Yet this was the start of a remarkable 17 years in South Yorkshire, which he came to love almost as much as Tyneside.
At the heart of his ministry was his love for and commitment to the parish system and to the clergy who served within it. He was available, supportive, encouraging, and affirming, and the clergy loved him for it.
He was also Catholic, not only liturgically, but in his valuing of the diversity and theological breadth of the Church of England. So Evangelicals and Anglo-Catholics all felt supported and valued by him, and a remarkable number of members of the Church of England’s episcopate were nurtured during his time in Sheffield.
His stance on the ordination of women, over which many of us fought with him, was enormously influenced by his fear that those opposed would be driven out of the Church. Despite this, he attended every ordination of women in his diocese and was the first to appoint a woman deacon in charge of a parish.
South Yorkshire underwent massive social and economic change in the 1980s. The Thatcher government’s decimation of the coal and steel industries was having a profound effect on the communities, many of whom saw their whole reason for existence wrenched away in what seemed like an instant.
Before I moved to Sheffield, I attended a miners’ protest march in Rotherham with banners and bands. At the front of the march was the Bishop of Sheffield, outspoken and unafraid to challenge what was happening to the people of his diocese. It was to be a continuing part of his ministry, as he much preferred this sort of encounter to dinner parties with the powerful or nights out at the Cutlers’ Hall.
The diocese became an early home for inclusivity. Jim Cotter, a former colleague of David’s at Lincoln, was encouraged to set up a house and spirituality centre in Sheffield where he wrote much of his work. The South Yorkshire Industrial Mission flourished. The Lincoln Theological Institute was founded in Sheffield under Martyn Percy.
Simon Bailey, the much loved and respected rector of the former mining community of Dinnington, contracted AIDS, and David supported his wish to die in office, the first priest to do so in England. Few who attended will forget that funeral and the BBC Everyman documentary that followed.
And, of course, there was the Nine O’Clock Service, born at St Thomas Crookes, which flourished and grew at Ponds Forge, attracting hundreds of young adults in a remarkable liturgical and theological expression of concern for the ecological future of the planet. Suffice to say that it was destroyed by the betrayal of trust by its leader, and the consequent damage to its members has inhibited further radical experiments of this kind.
Saturday 15 April 1989 was a day in the life of Sheffield, Liverpool, and the nation which will never be forgotten. The Hillsborough disaster took place before disaster plans had been thought of. David came to the ground, quietly encouraging the many clergy who were supporting bereaved and searching families. He invited to Bishopscourt, away from the public gaze, representatives of all the emergency services to meet and be listened to, with the Archbishop of York in attendance. It was a first step on the road to some sort of healing for many of those involved.
Throughout his ministry in Sheffield, there was an emphasis on teaching the faith. Cathedral lectures, outstanding and memorable sermons, delivered without notes, big events for the laity — for example, at Doncaster Racecourse — and clergy conferences were all important parts of his ministry. The General Synod, the Commissioners, and the Bishops’ Colleges Inspections Committee, which he chaired, were all marked by his immense knowledge and erudition; but he always preferred be back home.
What sustained him? His garden at Bishopscourt, which was very important and open to the public from time to time. His dog. And then, at the end of his time in Sheffield, his new relationship with Esther, who accompanied him to his new home in Rivendell (appropriately named) in Wetwang. There, in a lovely ceremony in a village church at Butterwick in July 2002, the apparently confirmed bachelor got married and was obviously very happy.
Visiting them both was a delight. Their garden blossomed, and their love of bowls and Scrabble gave them both much fun. David returned to an active parish ministry in the deanery, where again he was popular and welcome. And he returned to writing. He managed only four volumes of the intended eight of the history of the parishes of Sheffield. Now two volumes of Wetwang followed, erudite, readable, and fun, typical David Lunn. His increasing deafness and arthritis annoyed him, but his mind was sharp to the last.
In many ways, Lunn was unique. He was refreshingly free of the “corporate” mentality that affects so many bishops. He had a mind of his own and was not afraid of challenging what he saw as nonsense or ill-thought-out schemes that promised much and delivered little. The Church of England has been enriched by his ministry.
His memorial service and interment of ashes in the columbarium at Sheffield Cathedral will take place at 4 p.m. on Sunday 3 October.
The Rt Revd David Ramsay Lunn died on 19 July, aged 91.
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