Their souls are pure, their hearts are turned towards heaven and their future lies in a life of solemn devotion to God. But to the consternation of some of their more senior colleagues, a growing number of freshly ordained ministers of the Church of England are marking their new status by dabbing.

As Petertide approaches – the run-up to St Peter’s Day on 29 June, and traditionally the time for Church of England ordinations – the Church Times and social media circles of the devout are braced for the usual avalanche of celebratory photographs of new members of the clergy.

But the stern, decorous images that used to mark these occasions are being replaced by a trend for more frivolous action shots – with dabbing deacons showing up alongside priests leaping, baring their knees and even wearing L-plates. Their defenders see the new informality as a sign of holy joy. But hardcore traditionalists, along with casual curmudgeons, are less than elated.

Jollity on the cover of this Anglican weekly newspaper. Photograph: Church Times

Their ire was recently roused by a shot of six readers being licensed at St Alban’s Cathedral, showing clear air under the heels of a jumping bishop of Hertford, the Rt Rev Michael Beasley.

“What’s all this jumping for? It seems to have become a paraliturgical act and, as far as I can see, it is just nonsense that makes people look silly,” tweeted the Rev Patrick Gilday, rector of Benson with Ewelme in Oxfordshire.



Arun Kataria, the communications officer at the diocese of St Albans, and proud taker of the photograph, disagreed. “Licensings and ordinations are serious occasions, but they are very joyful ones,” he told the Guardian.

“So, there is a serious moment in the cathedral, where people are making the very big commitment of serving God and serving people, then there is also a tremendous release of joy, and a sense you are launched into a new life”.



Capturing this launching, though, can be tricky. “You say: ‘Go!’ and they all jump at different speeds.” Pleased though he is is with his effort, he acknowledged: “I don’t think we are leading the field”.



But Gilday, twice ordained “and never asked to jump up and down, of which I’m glad”, said it had become too widespread, an unofficial expectation and almost a ritual, without proper thought about what such images communicated. “I think it’s intended to communicate that we’re not all terribly boring, which we’re not,” he said.

But he feared they looked artificial: “It connects with my general fear about the Church of England’s attempts to look really relevant in the modern world.”

It was always the “fun, jumping photographs that people were keen to print”, so one narrative dominated. But ordination, though joyful, was also serious, and life changing, he said. “There’s nothing wrong with [jumping] per se, but for a lot of people, that’s not where they are.”



The Church Times editor, Paul Handley, expects a good crop this year. Last year’s Petertide ordinations yielded 10 “lightning bolt” deacons in Leicester, two hugging deacons in Sheffield and two knee-baring Durham ordinands, Simon Grundy and Danny Driver, leaping in front of the Angel of the North.



Simon Grundy and Danny Driver alongside the more grounded Angel of the North. Photograph: Keith Blundy/Durham Diocese

“We probably encouraged the trend a bit, because in the old days we used to just publish lists of names and we asked the dioceses to send us photographs,” he said.

Handley strives for a balance between the formal and the frivolous: “I think there is a bit of a competition to see who gets the cover photo. And the one that goes down best – or worst – is a group of ordinands jumping in the air. They have all been on an ordination retreat. So, it’s a bit like a cork out of the bottle”.

A blog on the subject raised the issue that such photographs – and others such as the newly installed bishop of Oxford, Stephen Croft, wearing “L-plates” inside his cope – tended to downplay the solemnity of such occasions. While none of the images are “terrible” , collectively they served to give “an impression that we are uncomfortable with the more serious side of what we are doing”, wrote the author, an ordinand.



In Leicester, where the deacons so enthusiastically dabbed, the diocesan mission and communications enabler, the Rev Jon Barrett, insists that there was no such dichotomy. “We always take our faith seriously, but try not to take ourselves too seriously,” he said.

But Father Matthew Cashmore, assistant curate at West Hereford, who joined in the Twitter debate, said such images were “all a bit passe”.

“Jumping ordinands. It’s probably good exercise, if nothing else,” he said. “Here we have this life-changing moment and you get this twee photographs of people jumping in the air and fists in the air. It’s become as staid and expected and as deeply uncreative as the images of the A-level results.”



The ministry in St Albans reaches new heights. Photograph: Diocese of St Albans

He agreed that collectively such images tended to downplay the solemnity of the occasion, and certainly did not appeal to the youth. “It’s all: ‘Yay!’ Smiley-facey.”

Of dabbing deacons, he said: “I don’t think that connects with young people. As a millennial, I find that I walk round with my cassock, and I talk about mass, and I introduce myself as Father, and that’s far more impactful with millennials than standing there trying to be cool and with the kids. That ‘down with the kids’ stuff is kind of from the 80s anyway.



“My generation would far rather somebody stand in front of them with some sort of honesty and integrity about what it is they believe than to be ‘Hey! Buddy Jesus. Big thumbs up.’”



He prefered pictures showing the church’s beauty and emotional connection, he said. “So, happy, smiling faces that hold together the beauty of the buildings that these ordinations happen in, the stunning vestments, the incense. All of that stuff is beautiful and grabs people’s attention.”

