I did not grow up Anglican. What initially drew me to this tradition was its style of worship and its emphasis on the sacraments. When I was discerning a call to ministry, I didn’t know enough about church governance to think too much about the pros and cons of various polities. Now that I’m ordained, I am very grateful to have a bishop.
It is good for leaders to be under authority. We’ve all heard too many stories of the independent pastors whose toxicity goes unchecked because nobody can hold them accountable. Many churches have elder boards or lay leadership teams who work with the pastor and offer accountability—Anglicans call ours a vestry—and this plurality of leadership provides an important counterbalance to an individual pastor.
But one limitation of a congregational leadership team is that their proximity to the leader can impact their objectivity in seeing problems. They offer a layer of protection for the congregation, but they are also part of the system. In more than one instance, I have seen the benefit of episcopal oversight: A confused vestry or a wounded staff team has brought their concerns to the bishop, who can provide valuable insight and oversight for churches and leaders in crisis.
Bishops exercise essential disciplinary responsibility for pastors. But just as importantly, they provide essential care. When my state was flooded by Hurricane Helene, local pastors scrambled to minister to their congregants, mobilize them for action in the community, and navigate dozens of new leadership decisions. The stress profoundly affected many of us.
While our denomination’s relief agency brought needed items to the impacted communities, our bishop and his wife brought care packages to the pastors and their families. They visited each of our churches, encouraging us through their presence and prayer. The personal, relational ministry a bishop can give to his clergy is one reason the episcopalian model of governance is so attractive to me.
Bishops, of course, are not infallible. They also need to be under authority. In the Anglican tradition, bishops do not enjoy autonomy any more than priests or deacons do. They belong to a college of fellow bishops who work together to decide on important theological and pastoral issues and hold each other accountable for their behavior. A bishop can be removed from office if he is unfit or found guilty of moral failure.
At times, the layers of administration involved in a more hierarchical system of governance can be challenging. It takes time to prepare for an ecclesiastical trial when there’s clergy misconduct, to change diocesan policies, and even to get ordained.
The slowness of our structure is good; it keeps our impulses in check and forces us to work collaboratively. But for those who have been hurt by structural abuses or excessive delays, an elaborate church polity can seem like a cover for dysfunction—which history has sometimes proven true. Apart from the Spirit, no structure can advance God’s mission. If we are not submitting ourselves to Jesus, we cannot hope to protect his sheep.
Poignantly, our bishops’ vestments serve to remind us that a leader is only as alive as the Spirit within him or her. Their mitres—the funny hats they wear—are shaped like a flame, which calls to mind the tongues of fire that fell on the disciples at Pentecost. When I see them, it reminds me to pray that they, and we, would be truly and continuously filled with the Holy Spirit—for the glory of God and the good of his church.
Hannah Miller King is associate rector of The Vine Anglican Church in North Carolina and author of Feasting on Hope: How God Sets a Table in the Wilderness (IVP, 2026).