Menu
The beginning of a new year is a natural moment for reflection: a time to give thanks for what has been entrusted to us, and to ask what faithfulness now requires. For the Prayer Book Society, this year brings both opportunity and responsibility. It coincides with the anniversary of William Tyndale, whose work stands at the headwaters of the English Bible and, through it, the language and theology of the Book of Common Prayer. It is also a year in which the Society must look forward—considering why it needs to grow, and how it can become a stronger, more confident, and more practically supportive voice for the Prayer Book in the life of the Church.
That connection was brought home powerfully in last Sunday’s BBC Radio 4 Sunday morning service marking Tyndale’s life and legacy. Appropriately, it was not a lecture or a debate, but an act of worship shaped by Scripture, prayer, and spoken English of depth and clarity. In that setting, Tyndale appeared not simply as a heroic figure of the Reformation, but as a man animated by a pastoral conviction: that the Word of God should be heard, prayed, and understood by ordinary people in their own language.
Tyndale’s achievement was not merely technical. His English was spare, exact, and resonant—language formed for proclamation and prayer rather than ornament. In giving Scripture to the people in words that were both faithful and memorable, he shaped the spiritual imagination of generations. Much of that language passed, almost seamlessly, into the worship of the Church of England.
This is where the Book of Common Prayer enters the story. Cranmer’s genius lay not in invention, but in distillation. Drawing deeply on Scripture—much of it mediated through Tyndale—he crafted a liturgical language that was communal without being impersonal, dignified without being remote, and theologically serious without being obscure. The Prayer Book’s characteristic felicity—its capacity to speak plainly while carrying depth and emotional truth—stands firmly in the Tyndale tradition.
This matters because the Prayer Book is not simply an historical artefact. It is a way of praying that forms belief, character, and community over time. It teaches Christians how to address God, how to speak truthfully about sin and grace, how to face suffering and death, and how to rejoice. It is, in the fullest sense, formative. But like all formative disciplines, it repays confidence, familiarity, and wise accompaniment.
Yet inheritance alone is not enough. Tyndale was not motivated by nostalgia for an earlier age, but by a desire for renewal. He believed that truth, clearly spoken, would do its work. That same instinct must guide the Prayer Book Society today—not only in what it affirms, but in how it supports those who wish to live within the Prayer Book tradition.
The Society currently has around 2,500 members. About ten per cent are corporate members—churches, colleges, and institutions—while the remainder are individual supporters. In the context of the overall membership of the Church of England, this is a modest number. The membership is also, by and large, older, though with an important and encouraging exception: a growing cohort of younger clergy and active group of laity who demonstrate what the Society can look like at its best—confident, thoughtful, generous, and committed, and drawing people of all ages into serious engagement with common prayer.
None of this diminishes the Society’s past success. On the contrary, the Prayer Book Society has achieved a great deal with limited resources and a relatively small base. Its witness has been steady, its scholarship respected, and its loyalty to the Prayer Book unwavering. The case for growth is not a critique of what has been done, but a recognition that the task now before us requires greater capacity and a more explicit emphasis on practical support.
Growth matters for several reasons.
First, scale gives voice. Many clergy and lay people value the Book of Common Prayer, yet its advocates are often heard only intermittently, or defensively. A larger, more engaged Society can speak with authority and calm assurance into contemporary conversations about worship, doctrine, and formation—offering depth rather than polemic.
Secondly, growth enables service. We know that our offer to corporate members needs to be stronger and more tangible. Many clergy and lay ministers are keen to use the Prayer Book but feel neither familiar nor confident in doing so. This is not a lack of sympathy, but often a lack of formation and support. If the Society can offer practical training, mentoring, and resourcing—help with structure, seasonal use, pastoral tone, and congregational teaching—we are confident that many more clergy and lay ministers will be drawn into serious, sustained use of the Prayer Book. Such support does not impose a model; it builds confidence and nourishes practice.
This is particularly important for corporate members. Churches and institutions that affiliate with the Society should experience that relationship as a genuine partnership: one that offers encouragement, shared learning, and practical help to those responsible for leading worship week by week. Strengthening this corporate offer is not ancillary to the Society’s mission; it is central to it.
Thirdly, growth secures continuity. Like all voluntary organisations, the Prayer Book Society depends on members, donors, and trustees who see the work as their own. If the Society is to hand on its mission intact, it must invite new generations—clergy and laity alike—into stewardship of this inheritance, equipping them not only to admire the Prayer Book, but to inhabit it with confidence.
What might this look like in practice?
It begins with articulation. The Society must continue to explain, positively and clearly, why the Book of Common Prayer matters—not as an exercise in nostalgia, but as a coherent theological and spiritual framework that still speaks into modern life. That explanation should be accompanied by practical guidance that helps people move from appreciation to confident use.
It also requires presence. The Society can and should be more visible—digitally, regionally, and through thoughtful engagement—offering calm, intelligent witness to the value of common prayer, and practical help to those seeking to deploy it well. Tyndale understood that making faith accessible was not a concession to fashion, but an act of trust in the power of truth plainly spoken.
Finally, it requires leadership and succession. My own role as interim Chief Executive is necessarily transitional. The longer-term work of shaping and sustaining the Society’s future will belong to the new Chief Executive who joins us in March. My responsibility, with trustees and staff, has been to steady the Society, clarify priorities, and ensure that the next phase begins from a position of confidence, readiness, and service to those who lead worship on the ground.
As we reflect this year on Tyndale and the English Bible, we are reminded that renewal comes not from novelty for its own sake, but from faithful transmission combined with courage. The Prayer Book Society has something vital to say—not only about how we worship, but about how we support those called to lead others in prayer.
If the Society grows, it is not for its own sake. It is so that this inheritance may continue to be heard, understood, confidently used, and lovingly passed on—clearly spoken, rooted in Scripture, and offered generously to the Church of our own time.
David Harvey
Interim CEO
Image: Anglican Compass
