A whirlwind of change

FIRSTLY, and for the uninitiated of both sexes, a rough guide to the hierarchical (formerly squirearchical) structure and traditions of the dear old Church of England. At its head are the Archbishops of Canterbury and York, beneath whom toil 43 diocesan bishops and 100-and-odd - oh come on, this is only a part-time church column - suffragan or assistant bishops.

None of them is, or legally can be, female, though other parts of the worldwide Anglican communion have long since accepted the episcopacy - and the equality - of women.

Approximately next in the ecclesiastical pecking order are deans, in charge of a cathedral and its mission, and archdeacons - responsible to the bishop for the oversight of part of the diocese.

None of this is set in stone, or enshrined in stained glass, of course. There are deans, it's said, who not only regard themselves as superior to the diocesan bishop but second only to the Almighty.

In the CofE's southern province, of Canterbury, there are several female deans and archdeacons. In the northern province, where men and men and women are team vicars, there wasn't - until April - even one.

Then Janet Henderson became Archdeacon of Richmond, responsible for 60 clergy and 108 parishes in North Yorkshire, and also a residentiary canon of Ripon Cathedral. The diocesan website called it a "duel role", though so far there've been no reports of pistols at dawn.

So what took them so long? "I don't have an answer to that one," she says. "What I despair of more is the inability to do justice to people who live in poverty. I wish the church put as much energy into that as it does into gender issues."

So could she become the Church of England's first woman bishop, should those in high places one day stop pulling one another's purple-ribboned pigtails and embrace the 21st Century?

"Oh no," she says, without evident irritation at being asked the question for the several hundredth time. "Absolutely not."

Titularly and traditionally she is the Venerable Janet Henderson, a word defined by Chambers as "hallowed by associations or age". In truth she is 49, personable and Welsh, married to a real ale loving IT boffin and lives in Hutton Conyers, near Ripon. She began working life as an auxiliary nurse.

"I always wanted to be a musician and went on a music course, but then decided I didn't want to teach it," she says.

"I went to the job centre and looked for a job I was qualified to do, and the only one was to be an auxiliary nurse."

Seven years later, she was caring for the terminally ill at Adenbrokes Hospital in Cambridge. "It deepened my interest in people's spiritual health and how they coped with difficult issues at the end of their time.

"When I became more into that than the physical side of nursing, the deaconess at our church asked if I'd ever considered the ministry."

She graduated with a first-class honours degree from Durham - "absolutely loved the place, but the degree was a bit of a surprise" - was ordained deacon in 1988 and priest in 1994, the first year that women were allowed so to do.

The Bishop of Southwell and Nottingham, her last diocese, talked of her "first class theological mind and enormous pastoral sensitivity".

"It's really great to be back in this part of the world," says Canon Henderson. "The welcome has been fantastic, the countryside is wonderful and I've been genuinely impressed by the imagination and enterprise of what is going on."

WE catch up with her at St Paul's church in Brompton-on-Swale, near Richmond, on the sort of sunny Sunday morning last experienced at the end of April.

"Is it me," someone asks without obvious irony, "or is it warm?"

Brompton's one of four village churches served by a single priest - another woman - who retired last October.

Now they're in an interregnum, an ecclesiastical term sometimes meaning limbo, and still no sign of a successor. "I'm going to be bending her ear," says Doris Clough, the churchwarden, but the archdeacon's ahead of the game.

The vacancy will be advertised in September, she announces at the start of the service. "I know things can grind slowly, but they are moving on."

St Paul's faces further problems because a tornado last year - "a tornado, really, right down the main street" - caused an estimated £10,500 damage to the church roof. "We're just going to have to find it," says Doris, pragmatically.

Canon Henderson has earlier led the service at nearby Bolton-on-Swale, where lies Henry Jenkins, said to have lived until the age of 169 by virtue of a daily regime of nettle soup and dips in the river.

She's done her homework, may have a first-class degree in diplomacy as well as theology. "People could live to a great age in those days," she says.

The archdeacon also dedicates an altar cloth of Belfast linen trimmed with lace made by Margaret Hamilton in memory of David, her husband. "I wanted to make something that was both beautiful and useful," says Margaret - and this is the second one.

The first was damaged when a match head broke off when someone was lighting a candle. "It didn't matter, it hadn't been dedicated," says Margaret.

"She was wonderful about it," says Doris. "Margaret's wonderful with her hands."

The archdeacon's sermon is also about inequality, and not of the sexes. The three richest people in the world have more money than the 45 poorest nations put together, she says. The 225 richest people have the same wealth as 47 per cent of the remainder.

"The Romans had a saying about wealth being like sea water, the more you drink, the thirstier you become."

Doris Clough says the newcomer's marvellous. "She's so approachable, so easy to talk to. I don't know why they won't let us have women bishops, they could bring so many different insights to the church. If they gave us another woman vicar, we'd be delighted."

Afterwards there's coffee and biscuits and fairly traded confectionery for sale. Almost last to leave, the archdeacon talks to everyone, sounds upbeat. Back home in Hutton Conyers, Dave Henderson's cooking Sunday lunch. At least there's equality somewhere.