Introduction
The Right Revd Dr Joanne Grenfell became the 12th Bishop of St Edmundsbury and Ipswich in September 2025, making history as the first woman to lead a diocese in Suffolk.
A thoughtful theologian, respected leader and deeply people-focused priest, Bishop Joanne brings to the role a rare combination of intellectual depth, pastoral warmth and quiet determination. Her appointment marks not only an important moment for the Diocese, one that also reflects the evolving leadership of the Church of England.
Before entering ordained ministry, Bishop Joanne was an academic, completing a doctorate at Oriel College, Oxford on the relationship between poetry, culture and place in the work of Edmund Spenser. That scholarly grounding continues to shape the reflective and thoughtful way she approaches ministry, leadership and public life.
Ordained in 2000, her ministry has taken her from parish life in Liverpool to senior leadership roles across the Church of England, including Archdeacon of Portsdown and later Bishop of Stepney, consecrated at St Paul's Cathedral in 2019.
Alongside her diocesan responsibilities she has also served nationally as the Church of England’s lead bishop for safeguarding, chairing the National Safeguarding Steering Group, one of the most important and demanding responsibilities within the Church today. Now living in Ipswich and leading a diocese rooted deeply in Suffolk’s communities and landscapes, Bishop Joanne has spoken warmly about her first months in the role, describing a strong sense of being called by God to minister in Suffolk and to support the church to be a shining light in every local community.
Warm, down-to-earth and deeply committed to the people she serves, she has quickly become a widely respected and inspiring figure within the county, a leader whose trailblazing appointment also reflects her genuine belief that the Church is here for everyone.
Here she speaks to Gina Long about faith, leadership, Suffolk and the enduring importance of hope.
Easter is one of the most significant moments in the Christian calendar, a time of reflection, renewal and hope. What does Easter mean to you personally?
Easter means hope and joy. It means knowing that we are reconciled to God through Jesus Christ, who died and rose again. It means new birth, new possibilities, and the promise of eternal life in God.
You became Bishop of St Edmundsbury and Ipswich in September 2025, making history as the first woman to lead a diocese in Suffolk. How did that moment feel for you, and what does the role mean to you now a few months in?
I felt overwhelmingly called by God to be the new Bishop of St Edmundsbury and Ipswich. I feel at home here. I’ve been truly welcomed and already feel loved by the people I am called here to serve. I am not hugely conscious of being the first woman to lead the Diocese; I’ve been the first woman in lots of roles, so that’s not a new experience, but what I do feel is the weight and joy of the responsibility of seeing Suffolk, loving Suffolk, and helping every church, chaplaincy, and mission community to serve God with the people of Suffolk.
You have described your first months in the role as “really exciting” and even a “dream come true.” What have been some of the moments so far that have meant the most to you?
One of the most deeply moving moments in the journey to becoming the Bishop of St Edmundsbury and Ipswich was paying homage to His Majesty the King. That meant spending time with him, reading a passage of the bible together, praying together, and me swearing my allegiance to him as our Monarch and head of the Church. I felt extraordinarily moved by that encounter. It was a profound experience of deep faith on his part, and on mine. His example of service reminds me of the need to serve and be here for people of every faith, and none.
The other very special moment for me was my welcome service in January at St Edmundsbury Cathedral. To knock on the doors with my pastoral staff – my shepherd’s crook – and to see the congregation turn and welcome me, knowing that I am called to make my spiritual home in this place, that was an incredible moment.
Before entering ordained ministry, you were an academic studying English literature and completed a doctorate on Edmund Spenser. What first sparked your love of literature and ideas?
I have always been someone who has loved reading. As a child, you could never tear me away from a book. I am very grateful to the little local library (in Eaglescliffe, on Teesside) whose librarians somehow managed to keep up with me. I read voraciously, everything from poetry to drama, to Victorian and modern novels, even foreign language literature. I just loved words: they were and are still a deep part of my relationship with God because they point us to the transcendence, majesty, and awe of God. They give expression to our relationship as human beings with a God who loves us and made us, to whom we cry out in worship and praise.
Was there a particular moment or experience that led you to feel called to ordained ministry?
When I was in my early 20s, I visited New York when I was preparing for a conference. I wandered into a church feeling a little lost and overwhelmed. Life had been quite difficult in many ways around that time. As I went into the church and sat down on a pew, I felt that God was with me. I felt Jesus sitting beside me, and I had the best and deepest conversation that I’d ever had in my life. I felt Jesus say to me that I could trust him, that I would be safe, and that I was to follow him. That’s what led me to explore ordained ministry.
Women could only just be ordained in the Church of England from around 1993, so I didn’t have any obvious role models, but I did feel that God was inviting me into ministry.
Describe yourself in three words.
I think that other people would describe me as calm, clear, and compassionate. In the role of national lead bishop for safeguarding for the Church of England, I’ve had to listen very carefully and try to find a way to communicate that the Church is ready to repent and change – and has indeed already changed so much in its safeguarding practice and responses to victims and survivors. I know there’s still more to do. I want to help the Church continue on that journey and, with compassion, grow into a healthier culture.
Your ministry has taken you through parish life, cathedral roles, archdeaconry and now Episcopal leadership. What have these different stages taught you about people and community?
It’s been a privilege to work across so many different settings in my ministry, geographically, culturally, and socially. One of the wonderful things about ministry in the Church of England is the breadth of leadership experience; no two contexts are the same, every situation presents different opportunities and challenges.
From a leadership perspective, you’re navigating something really quite complex. You are working people who are willing to go on this journey of faith together, but they are volunteers: you’re not usually their line manager and it’s never as simple as just telling people what to do. So, you have to learn to recognise what motivates people in their faith and to nurture that, so we can work more effectively together.
For example, when I was an Archdeacon in the Diocese of Portsmouth, I led work on reshaping mission and ministry for the future. We had to make difficult decisions about where to place clergy, how to balance different forms of ministry, and how to invest in pioneer work to reach people we weren’t reaching before. It required courage to use our resources differently and to guide others through that challenging change. The experience taught me a great deal about leading with courage, inspiring people beyond their comfort zones, and developing a more confident leadership style.
In London, I encountered both great wealth and deep challenges, particularly around how the Church could stay culturally relevant in a diverse, multicultural and multi‑faith city. During the pandemic, we had to be bold, planting new worshipping communities, keeping pace with rapid population growth and reaching younger generations. Many churches were faithful and rooted in their own neighbourhoods, but not all were connecting with new people, so we invested in some courageous church‑planting that led to vibrant new communities.
Now in Suffolk, the context is different again. We have many small, faithful rural churches that are the backbone of our rural communities. Part of my role is to help us discern together what God is calling us to in this place for the next season.
You also serve nationally as the Church of England’s lead bishop for safeguarding. What guides you when navigating such an important and sensitive responsibility?
You’re absolutely right that safeguarding is such an important and sensitive responsibility. That’s why I believe that how the Church of England deals with safeguarding is of the utmost importance. It reveals our values and identity as a Church and is therefore a matter of spiritual integrity. What guides me is a commitment to delivering cultural change, drawing on the wisdom of survivors and engaging with National Safeguarding Team colleagues and leaders across the Church of England. I hope that by working together we will not only prevent church-based abuse now, but also deal honestly, thoroughly, and proactively with what has previously been perpetrated and covered up in the past.
What does a typical working day look like for you, if such a thing exists?
There hasn’t been a typical working day since I started. It’s still very early days, with new colleagues, setting up new ways of working, and finding my feet, so I expect it will feel quite different in a year's time.
Every day starts with morning prayer, together with chaplain colleagues and anyone else who wants to join us – often there are several hundred people who connect with us via a live Facebook stream. We always pray for Suffolk, for the Church here and throughout the world, for the needs of the world, and for the day that lies ahead. Prayer is the bedrock of daily life. It's the first job of a bishop to pray for the place that she's called to.
After prayers, my days are generally filled with meetings – meeting people for the first time, meeting new colleagues and learning about what they do and understanding how I might contribute to that.
I also try to be out and about, as I’m learning about Suffolk. I visited Sizewell C nuclear power station the other day, where I met the chaplain and many of the staff there. I hope it’s encouraging for people to know that their bishop sees them and understands their place in the local economy, and their contribution to education and training. I met a group of young apprentices and degree placement students. They were inspiring!
Particularly on Sundays, but also during the week, I visit churches in the diocese, either to confirm candidates who want to take that step of commitment in their faith, or perhaps to licence a vicar at the beginning of a new ministry. One of the key tasks of a bishop is to be a shepherd to the shepherds.
I'm also just beginning to learn what it means to be a member of the House of Lords. I was introduced as a new member in February this year, and I've yet to make my maiden speech. I need to go and watch and learn first – and hopefully find my way around the corridors of Parliament, because it's a complete labyrinth.
Every day is a learning day.
Living and working in Suffolk now, what have you discovered about the people and communities here?
Since moving to Suffolk late last year, I have been deeply grateful and heartened by the warmth and kindness shown to me and my family. The welcome shown to me by people and communities across this county has been generous, kind, open-hearted, and full of encouragement. Suffolk people are good people, rooted in a strong sense of community and it’s clear to me that the church plays a vital role, particularly supporting those in our more rural communities.
What does place mean to you, personally and spiritually in a county deeply shaped by history, landscape and community?
This is a really wonderful question. In my academic studies, I particularly looked at the culture of place: how geography, landscape and mapping have informed how we understand our own national and religious identity. I spent a lot of time looking at poetry and old maps, particularly from the 16th and early 17th centuries. I love place and maps and the sense of spirituality that’s evident in old churches, particularly at sites of pilgrimage.
I’ve heard some people say that there are many “thin places” here in Suffolk. I think by that they mean that there are places where they feel the presence of God acutely: that there's not much distance here between heaven and earth. I have a sense of that too, particularly when I walk on the coast, feeling the enormity of the sea in one direction, and the whole of Suffolk in the other. God is close by.
In the Church of England, you're not just called to be a bishop for anywhere, you're called to be a bishop for somewhere: in my case, for Suffolk. During my welcome service at St Edmundsbury Cathedral I said, “Suffolk, I see you, Suffolk, I will love you.” I already love this place, and the more I get to know it, the more I love it.
Many people today are searching for meaning and belonging. They may feel distant from organized religion. What role do you believe the church can play in modern life?
I'd start with prayer, that the church teaches people the language of prayer and the discipline of prayer, including sitting with silence and waiting for God to speak. It's so easy to just scroll on your phone and fill the space, but to be able to be silent is a real gift.
Prayer is the act of bringing all your hopes, fears, and longings for yourself and for other people to God. We may find that we pray in incoherent ways, and that’s ok, but the liturgies of the Church also give us some structure for when we haven't got the words ourselves. First of all, the Church is a school of prayer.
Church is also a school of living in community. In church, you meet people of every age and background. We don’t really have “members” in the Church of England. We all come to worship God, to learn together, to say sorry together when we’ve gone wrong. Everybody belongs.
And then finally, Church is a school of hope. It shows us the possibility of eternal life. It points to the kingdom of God around us here and now and in the world to come. It helps us to hold onto the hope that God’s light will continue to shine in the darkness and the darkness won’t win.
You described yourself as a people person. What do you enjoy about meeting people across the diocese?
I really enjoy talking to people. I’ve never thought of myself as a hugely confident person socially. But I really like talking to people, listening to what they've got to say, and finding out what matters to them.
People may be a little hesitant when they first start talking to you, while they work out whether they can trust you, whether you're really listening. But when those conversations develop, you can end up having very special encounters and can feel that you are listening to and looking upon each other with love, in the presence of God.
We’re all flawed human beings. We all get stuff wrong, but God looks on each of us with unconditional positive regard. When we can find that same regard for each other, we can see the good in each other, and even see God in each other.
Just imagine, if we could manage to do that, one to another, with God, across the whole world, including the Middle East or Ukraine . . .
What was your very first job?
As part of the Duke of Edinburgh Award scheme, as a teenager, I had several volunteering roles, one of which was working in an old people’s home. I then became a paid care assistant there for a couple of months, before going off to university.
I learned lots there about how you kind of get on with people, how you care for people with dignity when they're elderly. I had some fabulous conversations with older people who'd lived quite incredible lives.
But my low point was trying to take an old lady's teeth out as I was helping her to get ready for bed at night. She was called Jenny, and she was a little woman, and quite feisty. As I was trying to take her false teeth out, she bit me, and it really hurt. I went off to see the nurse who was in charge and ask for some advice about what to do next. I explained what had happened. The nurse paused for a moment and then laughed: “Jenny doesn't have false teeth,” she said. Thankfully, nobody sacked me. In every new job, there's so much to learn. In that job, lesson number one was that not every old person has false teeth.
My first substantial job was to be Lecturer in English at Oriel College Oxford, which is where I'd been a student. I stood in for the wonderful English fellow, Dr Glenn Black who'd originally been my tutor, while he took on additional responsibilities in the university. So, I got to teach students for the full range of English literature courses from about 1500 to the late twentieth century. It was amazing to have tutorials with some very bright students and to guide them all the way through their degree course to their finals. I loved teaching and I also really loved the pastoral care.
At the same time, I was training to be a lay minister in the Church of England, and looking back, I think that was the beginning of a vocation for me.
What's your favourite movie?
As a kid, we endlessly watched and re-watched The Sound of Music and The Great Escape. We only had about 3 channels back then, and cinema wasn’t a big thing, so I was always more of a book reader than a movie watcher. Now, we've usually got a box set on the go of some kind – The West Wing, The Wire, The Sopranos, Money Heist, all the Scandi crime dramas like The Killing and The Bridge. They’re so much easier to dip in and out of. My husband, James has been until just recently chaplain at the University of East London, which means he’s away mid-week. We have a deal that neither of us can watch the next episode in the set if the other isn’t there. I reckon that’s the secret of a happy marriage.
What is always in your fridge?
Cherry tomatoes, cheese, and eggs. I love my cheesy scrambled eggs and tomatoes on sourdough toast.
Your favourite tipple is …
I don't drink alcohol because it makes me feel quite unwell and really dizzy. But I really like some of the non-alcoholic beers and non-alcoholic spirits that are available. Or a nice cup of chai tea.
Leadership can be very demanding and very public. What helps you to stay grounded?
My children, who are teenagers and young adults, don’t let me get away with much. They describe my Bishop's mitre as the “prat hat”, which really puts me in my place. Ordinary family life is really good for keeping me grounded.
When you do have time away from your responsibilities as Bishop, how do you like to spend it?
I love going around charity shops with our daughter, who's in her early 20s. She's really great at sewing, and she makes things and alters things ,and so we mooch around together in vintage and charity shops looking for interesting fabrics, colours and textures.
Who or what most influenced your thinking about faith, leadership or life?
Watching Archbishop Rowan Williams, being able to speak and write with such clarity, depth and wisdom. He always said things that were worth chewing over, or savouring. Theology can help to slow us down in how we think and give depth to our reflections, rather than just speed and noise. I really enjoyed working with Archbishop Sarah, when she was Bishop of London. She brought a huge amount of care to how she did ministry. She was also very good at ensuring things were run well and safely, and she could take in a huge amount of information, make sense of it and find a wise way through it. I still carry lots of that learning with me.
I've also learned a lot from the lead safeguarding Bishop role, particularly from victims and survivors who are so generous in giving their time to working with a church that may have very significantly failed them in the past. To see how people who have had incredibly difficult and painful experiences contribute with perseverance and wisdom to help the Church find a better way of doing things, that's been hugely inspiring over the last three years as well.
What does happiness mean to you?
Having taken up running, happiness is having a great podcast in my ear, and setting off on longer runs than I would ever have imagined possible, even six months ago. I’m very slow, but that’s ok: it’s more about finding a quiet space in my head to reflect and feeling physically stronger.
What advice would you give to someone who is searching for purpose or direction in their life?
Take time to be still and create space to reflect. Invite God to be present with you, and reach out to Jesus, allowing his hope, comfort and guidance to meet you where you are.
Wherever you are on your journey, know that you don’t have to have everything figured out. Purpose often unfolds gradually, in quiet moments, in connection with others and in the courage to take the next step forward.
If you could share one message of encouragement with people this Easter, what would it be?
Know that Jesus died and rose for you; in him is fullness of life now and for all time. Easter is a message of hope, that even in the darkest moments, new life and new beginnings are possible. Whatever your circumstances or beliefs, may this season bring you a renewed sense of hope, peace, and the courage to look forward.
