The national church “of England” has been meeting this week in London and is in turmoil. Does it matter, other than to the 1.7% of the population of England who still worship under its roofs? Since the Church of England continues with an “established” role in the life of the nation, the answer is yes.

The argument within the C of E over safeguarding seems endless. It has brought the downfall of one archbishop and is vexing his successor. The church is divided over how to police abuse in future, whether through an independent agency or through internal discipline. This in turn reflects whether it sees itself as a dignified institution of state or just another religious sect.

The church long ago shifted from being the former to the latter, and this is reflected in its decision to opt chiefly for internal discipline. That is precisely why there has never been a better opportunity to acknowledge the shift. One institutional church, for all its historical glory, cannot still rank as an “established” estate of the realm.

Yet in 2023 this church took as its duty the enthroning of Britain’s new head of state. It did so in a coronation of great splendour but it was, to most people, an incomprehensible ritual. Its oaths, garments and sacred oils could as well have been administered at Stonehenge. Where hereditary monarchs survive across Europe, such ceremonies are rightly secular. The heir to the British throne, Prince William, is known to be non-churchgoing. It would surely be best to get this all changed in advance of his coronation. The case for a new Reformation is overwhelming. Where is the radical government ready to initiate it?

The statistics of decline are now familiar. Average weekly churchgoers numbered just over 1 million in 2009. By 2023 it was down by almost a third to 693,000. Under half of Britons claim to believe in God, down from three-quarters in 1981, while 37% expressly affirm “no religion”. Churches in big cities such as Manchester have suffered badly since Covid-19, losing more than half of regular worshippers since 1990. The number of worshippers in the diocese of Bath and Wells has fallen 60% in that time. There are now more practising Muslims in Britain than Anglicans.

The church’s cumbersome hierarchy must lie at the root of many of its ailments. It is like the Royal Navy having more admirals than warships. There are now 108 bishops, of varying degrees of seniority, scattered across 42 dioceses, with bureaucracies that no other sect seems to need. Despite this, some 3,500 churches have shut in the past decade. A “save our parish” lobby fights every closure, but to little avail. An empty church is still empty.

None of this need matter to a wider public were it not for one fact: parish churches are not just places of Christian worship. They are the biggest – and usually most beautiful – monument dominating the heart of almost every village and town in Britain. The national church may not matter to the nation, but the local church is prominent at the hub of almost every community. It represents history, ceremony, cultural activity and much of its charitable welfare. Everyone knows their church, even if few pay for it. The C of E’s accumulated repair liability now runs at more than £1bn, with 900 on Historic England’s heritage at risk register.

It is simply unrealistic for these glorious buildings to rely on tiny groups of mostly elderly people to look after and pay for them. Local churches and especially unused ones must be somehow transferred to their local communities, as happens across Europe, or they will go the way of medieval castles. Sooner or later they will collapse and die.

This is why disestablishing the national church is not enough. Already an active element within the Anglican community is virtually neo-Methodist: the house church and lay-led movements. These are informal, sometimes evangelical, groups usually under lay preachers meeting in each other’s homes or elsewhere. Some are mimicking the non-conformist movements of the 18th and 19th centuries and establishing self-governing “congregational” churches compared by sceptics to alcoholics anonymous. This is moving outside the Anglican hierarchy.

This will do nothing to save church buildings. Lively ones are at least finding new uses, like Herefordshire’s “shop in a church” or Oxfordshire’s pilates centres or the post office, cafe and soft play area in London’s West Hampstead. They are becoming libraries, gyms, performance spaces, cafeterias and food banks. Some are reverting to being places of meditation and wellbeing. Whatever it may be, like sports centre and museums, they should become the responsibility of local trusts or parish and town councils, with precept taxes to support their upkeep.

Great Britain can handle the affairs of state without an official church. Localities are less happy. As high streets decline and pubs close, they face being left with a large building empty and bleak at their heart. It should revert to what it once was: the focus of communal activity. As the Church of England disestablishes nationally, its churches should become “re-established” locally.