Despite an already full calendar of local conferences/workshops/events, A Fresh Look At Mission took place in the centre of Sydney last Friday. Despite my aversion to large gatherings of Christians in a single locale I was sorry that I was unable to attend (factors of distance and having spent a lot of time recently out of the office swayed my decision). From what I have heard it was a very productive time for all concerned and I hope there will be further events as the topics covered seemed well worthy of attention.
What struck me as I read a report of the day was the content of the talk given by my beloved former teacher Dr Michael Jensen, who noted the reluctance of many young evangelical students to embrace Anglicanism as a way of expressing their theological convictions [note: as I was not at the talk I am relying on the accuracy of the above link and I hope not to misrepresent Dr Jensen in any way]. Jensen's argument appeared to run that all evangelical convictions must ultimately be expressed in some kind of ecclesiology. He likened the relationship to one of computer software and hardware (a subject I know next to nothing about). If evangelicalism is the "software", then Anglicanism is not only an appropriate but the best "hardware" on which to run the program. Jensen suggested that Anglican ministers should be more proactive at selling the "hardware" to young entrepreneurial evangelists and church-planters eager to win people for Christ.
I agree. I am an Anglican not by accident but by conviction. I walked into an Anglican church at the age of 17 mostly based on the fact that people I knew would be there. At various points I chose to stay because I believe the Anglican Church provides an appropriate framework in which to witness to the historic Christian faith. I could have changed denominations at several points but preferred not to.
However, I have an important question (that perhaps someone who attended the conference can answer): what exactly is the "Anglican hardware" that we should be promoting?
Sydney Anglicanism has always been a bit of a strange beast. A bit like old Uncle Neville at the family Christmas lunch, who is intent on keeping the seasonal traditions alive while wearing his trousers back-to-front. Good motives always, but sometimes lacking in the execution. Even our evangelical friends find us a bit tiresome occasionally. But about 30 years ago things really started going off the rails and many of our Anglican distinctives were chucked in favour of being more "culturally relevant". If Dr Jensen thinks we should dig some of these out of the cupboard, then let's go! But which ones, exactly? And to what extent?
Many will point to the 39 Articles or the teachings about the nature of church set out in the Ordinal. But these cannot be properly regarded as "hardware" - they are more like the Operating Instructions (ignore at Your Own Risk). Other Anglican distinctives exist, but at the present time they are subject to either indifference or outright hostility by both clergy and laity. Here are some of the typical Sydney attitudes towards Anglican "hardware" that I have observed:
Prayerbooks - Stable door open, horse bolted. Last attempt failed. Try again if you really must.
Buildings - A pain in the neck. Spend as little as possible. Or meet in school halls. Sacred space is a myth. [Note: This does not apply if you happen to be a "strategic" church which mysteriously burns down. In that case, spend whatever you want!]
Sacraments - Feel free to depart from mainstream Evangelical view on administration if your conscience allows. "Baptism-lite" option now available.
Robes - To be worn at ordination and at the funerals of Archbishops.
Bishops - They take up resources that could be used for practical ministry. If you want one, make sure they can pay their own way.
Worldwide Communion - Never gonna happen...
So, what's left in the "hardware" box? Have I missed something? Is any of the above reclaimable? What did we chuck that we should not have?
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Pointless Church Disputes and the 'Van Halen Theory'
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a minister in want of a good fight with his congregation need only fiddle with the seating arrangements.
In two previous church communities which I have been involved with disputes have broken out because the minister in charge had what he thought were very good reasons for changing the seating arrangements. Such a 'minor' issue was interpreted by both congregations as a Blasphemy of the Highest Order (in one case the issue was dropped, in the other a reasonable compromise was reached). Others in pastoral work whom I have spoken to about this have assumed an expression of mutual suffering and black humour. I have been wondering again recently as to why church seating in all its forms is an acknowledged Live Fuse.
The less-generous explanation that is usually trotted out (usually by overstressed ministers) is that the laity (unlike the clergy) are people of Worldly Habit whose dislike of interference with their personal space stems from Unacknowledged Sin and Immaturity. Their aversion to change shows that the Gospel is not Priority #1. It's not as though we were asking them to wear hair shirts or walk barefoot to Canterbury. If only our people were more Godly they would know not to make a Pointless Dispute about such an issue.
Despite such an argument being extremely condescending, my main problem is that it is often personally inconsistent. It is made to apply even to those who would normally be counted as our most devoted Partners and thereby fosters an atmosphere of suspicion. Is there another explanation, one more generous to those we pastor and encourage week to week regarding the state of their Immortal Souls?
I have come up with 'The Van Halen Theory'.
Those of you unlucky enough to have been born in the Gen-Y time span probably don't realise the impact Eddie and the boys had on rock 'n roll in the 1980s. They were Huge. When their debut album dropped in 1978 Eddie Van Halen made all other guitar heroes not surnamed Hendrix instantly irrelevant. Stadium tour after stadium tour then followed made up of the most slammin' hard rock imaginable backed with a massive lighting and pyrotechnical display. Then there was the infamous Rider...
In their list of personal and technical requirements given to venues/promoters before each concert, Van Halen included one item that has gone into rock legend: a bowl of M&Ms with all the brown ones removed. At the time this was seen as another example of rock royalty excess. Yet, when asked about it later, the band and their management revealed quite a different motive than simply to play with the caterer's mind. The logic went that, since such a large and technical production was being put on night after night, attention to detail was essential. In particular, the health and safety of those working in the road crew was paramount as there was so much that could go wrong. Therefore, if the band walked into their dressing room and found the M&M clause unfulfilled (in whole or in part) they might rightly ask the question: What else has been screwed up around here?
If we wanted to be generous (and I think there is licence for being so) we might say that our church seating has become the laity's M&M clause. I think that most every congregation recognises some change to be a good thing and would probably rejoice if the contract for the supply of Arnott's Family Assorted was not renewed. Yet at some point a Meaningless Change can signify Significant Change, and it looks like the zeitgeist has decided that the seats are where our congregations have drawn the line. The thought runs: If the seats are getting moved around this week, what is this guy going to start saying about Jesus next week?
Opposition to chair-moving typically comes as a shock to the humble cleric, who sees no reason why this should be the Heresy Marker, but it really should not be if he has taken into account the compact of Spatial Responsibility. Laity and Clergy (in the Anglican system at least) have a compact to defend the Gospel in their gatherings. The Minister takes responsibility for the Pulpit and Table (and a Choir if he is really unlucky). The Laity also proclaims the Gospel in the meeting, but in a different way and different space. When a young man dons the collar he fundamentally Changes Space, and therefore inherits an insensibility to the perspective of his sheep. Things that Don't Matter to him Matter very much to the saints whom he expects to listen patiently to his droning on too long in the pulpit week-by-week.
Imagine, for a moment, that a minister of a fairly Low parish should be confronted at the next vestry meeting by a popular vote to install two plain candlesticks on the Table. Now, candles are very nice and I use them myself whenever a Romantic Atmosphere is required in the home. It also may be argued that a simple light on the Table might draw attention to the True Light during or sacramental celebrations. For all the plausible arguments that might be made, there are probably not many Evangelical Anglican ministers whose hackles would not arise at the intrusion of such a Symbol of Popery on his table. Next week it might be incense, icons, prayers to Mary, offerings for the dead!
Now consider how your poor parishioner feels about you stealing his seat.
I throw it out there as a theory. You've heard me bang on too long. If you've bothered to read right through you may now reward yourself by watching this.
In two previous church communities which I have been involved with disputes have broken out because the minister in charge had what he thought were very good reasons for changing the seating arrangements. Such a 'minor' issue was interpreted by both congregations as a Blasphemy of the Highest Order (in one case the issue was dropped, in the other a reasonable compromise was reached). Others in pastoral work whom I have spoken to about this have assumed an expression of mutual suffering and black humour. I have been wondering again recently as to why church seating in all its forms is an acknowledged Live Fuse.
The less-generous explanation that is usually trotted out (usually by overstressed ministers) is that the laity (unlike the clergy) are people of Worldly Habit whose dislike of interference with their personal space stems from Unacknowledged Sin and Immaturity. Their aversion to change shows that the Gospel is not Priority #1. It's not as though we were asking them to wear hair shirts or walk barefoot to Canterbury. If only our people were more Godly they would know not to make a Pointless Dispute about such an issue.
Despite such an argument being extremely condescending, my main problem is that it is often personally inconsistent. It is made to apply even to those who would normally be counted as our most devoted Partners and thereby fosters an atmosphere of suspicion. Is there another explanation, one more generous to those we pastor and encourage week to week regarding the state of their Immortal Souls?
I have come up with 'The Van Halen Theory'.
Those of you unlucky enough to have been born in the Gen-Y time span probably don't realise the impact Eddie and the boys had on rock 'n roll in the 1980s. They were Huge. When their debut album dropped in 1978 Eddie Van Halen made all other guitar heroes not surnamed Hendrix instantly irrelevant. Stadium tour after stadium tour then followed made up of the most slammin' hard rock imaginable backed with a massive lighting and pyrotechnical display. Then there was the infamous Rider...
In their list of personal and technical requirements given to venues/promoters before each concert, Van Halen included one item that has gone into rock legend: a bowl of M&Ms with all the brown ones removed. At the time this was seen as another example of rock royalty excess. Yet, when asked about it later, the band and their management revealed quite a different motive than simply to play with the caterer's mind. The logic went that, since such a large and technical production was being put on night after night, attention to detail was essential. In particular, the health and safety of those working in the road crew was paramount as there was so much that could go wrong. Therefore, if the band walked into their dressing room and found the M&M clause unfulfilled (in whole or in part) they might rightly ask the question: What else has been screwed up around here?
If we wanted to be generous (and I think there is licence for being so) we might say that our church seating has become the laity's M&M clause. I think that most every congregation recognises some change to be a good thing and would probably rejoice if the contract for the supply of Arnott's Family Assorted was not renewed. Yet at some point a Meaningless Change can signify Significant Change, and it looks like the zeitgeist has decided that the seats are where our congregations have drawn the line. The thought runs: If the seats are getting moved around this week, what is this guy going to start saying about Jesus next week?
Opposition to chair-moving typically comes as a shock to the humble cleric, who sees no reason why this should be the Heresy Marker, but it really should not be if he has taken into account the compact of Spatial Responsibility. Laity and Clergy (in the Anglican system at least) have a compact to defend the Gospel in their gatherings. The Minister takes responsibility for the Pulpit and Table (and a Choir if he is really unlucky). The Laity also proclaims the Gospel in the meeting, but in a different way and different space. When a young man dons the collar he fundamentally Changes Space, and therefore inherits an insensibility to the perspective of his sheep. Things that Don't Matter to him Matter very much to the saints whom he expects to listen patiently to his droning on too long in the pulpit week-by-week.
Imagine, for a moment, that a minister of a fairly Low parish should be confronted at the next vestry meeting by a popular vote to install two plain candlesticks on the Table. Now, candles are very nice and I use them myself whenever a Romantic Atmosphere is required in the home. It also may be argued that a simple light on the Table might draw attention to the True Light during or sacramental celebrations. For all the plausible arguments that might be made, there are probably not many Evangelical Anglican ministers whose hackles would not arise at the intrusion of such a Symbol of Popery on his table. Next week it might be incense, icons, prayers to Mary, offerings for the dead!
Now consider how your poor parishioner feels about you stealing his seat.
I throw it out there as a theory. You've heard me bang on too long. If you've bothered to read right through you may now reward yourself by watching this.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Baxter #4 - Teach Your Children (and Adults) Well
One of the great Australian memoirs of the 20th Century was Robin Dalton's Aunts Up The Cross. In it Dalton recalls her eccentric upbringing in bohemian Kings Cross in the years leading up to World War II. Her house was filled with an assortment of genteel relatives in reduced circumstances, including a great-aunt who would wear a fox-fur cape and sunglasses to bed. Dalton recalls her mother as a woman imbibed with the Australian love of gambling in all forms, in particular horse racing and Bridge. Despite her mother's passion for cards, Dalton herself never learned to play Bridge as she was often told (directly or otherwise) that playing bad Bridge was in such poor taste as to border on a sin. It was easier for her never to learn, a move which reveals that despite the obvious bond between mother and daughter that permeates the narrative there was no plan to pass on this particular family passion in a relevant and non-threatening way.
In the second half of The Reformed Pastor, Baxter turns his attention to the task of catechesis. He is of the opinion that, despite the many advances that the English Church had taken over the previous century, the laity were still woefully ignorant of the most basic aspects of the Christian Faith. Worse still, when questions of faith did arise they were generally unwilling to go to their local ministers to have their minds set at rest. Baxter has already stated that he felt that the clergy were generally well equipped to answer such questions and indeed had rejoiced at the fact that the standard of ministers in the realm was so high. Preaching from the pulpit had proved not to be effective at combating general ignorance. Therefore, Baxter contends that a primary responsibility of the clergy should be the active education of those under his care in the fundamentals of the Christian faith. It is not enough to assume that they will pick up knowledge by osmosis or private study.
Baxter proposes that each minister have a plan to visit his sheep in turn, to enquire as to their spiritual health and knowledge, and to instruct them privately on any points on which they are confused or ignorant. While not wishing to detract at all from the ministry of the pulpit, he feels that this must be complemented by private instruction if it is to have the most profitable impact. He rightly discerns that during sermons the preacher cannot pace his message to suit all people equally, and so many will either get left behind or become distracted during the message. However, in private consultation, the minister can open the Scriptures and repeat his points carefully to make sure the individual understands what is being taught and can have opportunities for questions or objections. In such a way the individual is matured in their faith and comes to know that the minister is as much a private instructor as a public orator, making it more likely that the minister will be consulted on matters of faith and doctrine again in the future. Such a ministry breaks down the barriers between clergy and laity, gives general confidence to what is being taught, and will head off superstitions or heresy.
Over the last several days I attended a ministry conference where congregation retention across demographics was discussed in the context of the diocesan plan for church growth. It struck me that while our evangelism strategies (and implementation) could always be better, our greatest problem is not one of evangelism but of catechesis, particularly in our youth ministry. NCLS figures show that we have no problem in attracting numbers to our children and youth ministries, but there tends to be a dramatic drop in adolescence and early adulthood. I believe this results from a glitch in our thinking with which Baxter can assist. Much effort is given to strategies for running programs, events, and pastoral strategies for youth. Little is given to catechesis, despite its strong avocation by generations of evangelicals.
I am aware that this issue has been addressed before, but I am adding my voice to the chorus. We need to get serious about instructing our youth in the apostolic and catholic faith. It is inexcusable if we are in the situation of asking our senior youth what a Sacrament is or what the Creeds teach and get only blank looks in reply. As far as I am aware there are not any local diocesan resources for instructing our youth in preparation for Confirmation. On that note, when exactly did Confirmation become an Optional Extra? We need to start younger and do better!
In the second half of The Reformed Pastor, Baxter turns his attention to the task of catechesis. He is of the opinion that, despite the many advances that the English Church had taken over the previous century, the laity were still woefully ignorant of the most basic aspects of the Christian Faith. Worse still, when questions of faith did arise they were generally unwilling to go to their local ministers to have their minds set at rest. Baxter has already stated that he felt that the clergy were generally well equipped to answer such questions and indeed had rejoiced at the fact that the standard of ministers in the realm was so high. Preaching from the pulpit had proved not to be effective at combating general ignorance. Therefore, Baxter contends that a primary responsibility of the clergy should be the active education of those under his care in the fundamentals of the Christian faith. It is not enough to assume that they will pick up knowledge by osmosis or private study.
Baxter proposes that each minister have a plan to visit his sheep in turn, to enquire as to their spiritual health and knowledge, and to instruct them privately on any points on which they are confused or ignorant. While not wishing to detract at all from the ministry of the pulpit, he feels that this must be complemented by private instruction if it is to have the most profitable impact. He rightly discerns that during sermons the preacher cannot pace his message to suit all people equally, and so many will either get left behind or become distracted during the message. However, in private consultation, the minister can open the Scriptures and repeat his points carefully to make sure the individual understands what is being taught and can have opportunities for questions or objections. In such a way the individual is matured in their faith and comes to know that the minister is as much a private instructor as a public orator, making it more likely that the minister will be consulted on matters of faith and doctrine again in the future. Such a ministry breaks down the barriers between clergy and laity, gives general confidence to what is being taught, and will head off superstitions or heresy.
Over the last several days I attended a ministry conference where congregation retention across demographics was discussed in the context of the diocesan plan for church growth. It struck me that while our evangelism strategies (and implementation) could always be better, our greatest problem is not one of evangelism but of catechesis, particularly in our youth ministry. NCLS figures show that we have no problem in attracting numbers to our children and youth ministries, but there tends to be a dramatic drop in adolescence and early adulthood. I believe this results from a glitch in our thinking with which Baxter can assist. Much effort is given to strategies for running programs, events, and pastoral strategies for youth. Little is given to catechesis, despite its strong avocation by generations of evangelicals.
I am aware that this issue has been addressed before, but I am adding my voice to the chorus. We need to get serious about instructing our youth in the apostolic and catholic faith. It is inexcusable if we are in the situation of asking our senior youth what a Sacrament is or what the Creeds teach and get only blank looks in reply. As far as I am aware there are not any local diocesan resources for instructing our youth in preparation for Confirmation. On that note, when exactly did Confirmation become an Optional Extra? We need to start younger and do better!
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