Is the ground shifting under ACNA?

Change is afoot in the Anglican world—and already its effects are beginning to be felt.

There’s a new archbishop of Canterbury, of course, who will be formally seated in his new cathedral on Thursday. Rowan Williams was a convenient whipping boy for breakaway American Anglicans. (This is the group that has left the Episcopal Church and affiliated with various overseas provinces. Many are now grouped under the Anglican Church in North America [ACNA].) They bemoaned his alleged liberalism and chastised him for not going after “apostate” liberals more forcefully and chucking them out of the Communion.

But Justin Welby is not so easy to pigeonhole. For one thing, he’s no liberal. His public statements on sexuality-related issues, for instance, have been entirely in keeping with what ACNA Anglicans say they’ve wanted to hear from Lambeth. He comes from the centre of contemporary Anglican evangelicalism, Holy Trinity Brompton.

Yet already he’s causing ACNA Anglicans to have fits. Welby’s early statements have been all about reconciliation, a profoundly Biblical concept—and ACNA Anglicans have busily set about redefining reconciliation and downplaying its significance. A less Biblical move I cannot think of. Welby gave a major stage to the deeply holy relationship between Tory Baucum and Shannon Johnston—and GAFCON Anglicans apparently put tremendous pressure on Baucum that he had to contort his own rhetoric to end the relationship. No matter the surface justifications, this is not the move of a strong organization.

But the potentially more significant change is taking place in Rome. Anglicans don’t always like to admit it but Rome has always had huge influence on Anglicanism—things we adopt usually start there first. The stature of the pope is such that we can’t avoid the effects of what he does. ACNA Anglicans relied on Pope Benedict as a handy backstop. In his opposition to same-sex marriage, say, and his theological acumen, these Anglicans could—and did—say, “See, there’s the kind of leader we need to have—bold and orthodox.” They trumpeted their meetings with him.

Francis has only been pope for a few days but already things seem different. He talks about the poor, for one thing—a lot. There’s a hint that he was once open to blessing same sex relationships. Most significantly—and the thing I have found most appealing about him—he takes himself with a kind of holy lightness, one thing that has been in short supply in the church (of any communion) in recent years. He looks like he’s having fun.

It is way too early to say anything with any certainty but two of the verities that ACNA Anglicans have relied on in recent years—a “weak”, “liberal” leader at Lambeth and a backstop in Rome—are quickly changing. These breakaway Anglican groups have lots of money and lots of time to come up with new ways to make their case and I have no doubt they will. But the fact that they are scrambling is significant.

I don’t wish ACNA ill and I make these comments with no value judgment. But I do wish for a new narrative in Anglican relations, one that is a little more accurate, interesting, and fruitful. Change is coming. Let us hope it move us closer to reality.

The Power of Establishment

On Monday, I did something I rarely do: I read The Daily Mail, one of England’s leading newspapers (by sales). It’s a tabloid that makes it money by plastering screaming (and arguably distorting) headlines across its pages.

I read the paper because a) it was in a waiting-room I was in and b) the front-page headline was about Justin Welby, archbishop of Canterbury, and a letter he (and about 40 other bishops) signed opposing the government’s proposed changes to welfare. The article (and the accompanying op-ed column) was not positive about the archbishop’s move. Welby himself thoughtfully responded on his blog.

Leaving aside the merits of the dispute (which, as a non-voter in this country, I don’t entirely understand but on the surface it seems Welby et al. have a point), let’s talk about the media coverage. England is supposed to be an ever-increasingly secularized country, with fewer and fewer people attending church and fewer and fewer people believing in God. So why all the attention for a letter the archbishop signed?

For me, it’s a reminder of the power of Establishment: no matter what people might think about religion in England, the Church of England still has a privileged role. When its leaders speak, they get attention. Not always, and not as much as they would like, I am sure, but attention nonetheless. As I read about this debate, I am reminded of bishops in some African countries I’ve visited, whose public utterances are closely watched. When I was in Nigeria, bishops (of a number of different denominations) regularly featured in news reports. Ditto for South Sudan.

At the same time as this flare-up over the bishops’ poverty letter in England, the American House of Bishops released a letter about gun violence. Also this week, some faith leaders—including Episcopalians—have spoken out against the proposed Republican budget. I will be stunned if any of these statements makes the cover of any major newspaper in the United States, or is even mentioned. That’s not how the media market works in the United States. Katharine Jefferts Schori and American Episcopal bishops are not media figures in the way English bishops are. (A few have succeeded in getting into the news cycle with statements about same-sex marriage, but these are exceptions that prove the rule.)

All of which is to say what I’ve said many times on this blog in one way or another: context matters. Anglicans around the world minister in a huge variety of contexts that shapes their actions and statements. We do well to remember that.

5 books I never had to read in seminary, but kinda wish I had

I read a lot of books when I was in seminary—many of them really good. But as I continue to read, I come across all kinds of titles I wish had been part of the curriculum, because they are well-written and thoughtful and because the issues they address are critical to the future of the church. Here are five I wish had been in my seminary curriculum.

1. Roland Allen, Missionary Methods: St. Paul’s or Ours?

If a book is still in print a century after it was first written, that’s a pretty good sign it’s worth reading. Allen systematically thinks through what Paul did in his missionary journeys, compares it to modern mission practice, and concludes the church is way off base. There are problems with his argument, but it gets the reader thinking about evangelism in a way that you might not have before. (Plus, you can get the Kindle edition for less than $2.) (Vincent Donovan’s incredible Christianity Rediscovered explicitly picks up Allen’s themes, but I actually was assigned that in seminary.)

2. Paul Zahl, Grace in Practice: A Theology of Everyday Life

Aside from the writings of Rowan Williams, no book has influenced my preaching more than this book. What I love about the book is not that I agree with every last word, but the way it challenges me to think about the content of the good news of Jesus Christ the church has to share. As I’ve written, oftentimes in the church it seems like the conversation is about how we proclaim the gospel. There needs to be more discussion about what we proclaim and how it is both good and new.

3. David Bosch, Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shifts in the Theology of Mission

Here’s a book that combines great Biblical scholarship, solid church history, and thoughtful theology into one profound volume. It’s particularly useful in the church these days when everyone is talking about mission but sometimes we struggle to pin down just what we mean by it. The mission of God is broad and deep. Bosch engages all of it, and this book repays careful reading.

4. Adrian Hastings, The Church in Africa 1450-1950

I’m probably biased here, since I spend most of my days studying African Christianity, but the story of the church in Africa is fascinating—and defies the easy notion that somehow missionaries planted a gospel which Africans later made their own. The process of conversion was much more dynamic than that. As the church continues to grow rapidly in sub-Saharan Africa, it’s important for us all to understand how it came to be. This book helps us do that.

5. Emma Wild-Wood, Migration and Christianity Identity in Congo (DRC)

You might not guess it from the rather anodyne title but this book is tremendously important—and especially for Anglicans. One thing that the Anglican Communion sorely lacks is a history of itself and particularly of the unique development of each of its provinces. (One very good overview is Kevin Ward’s, A History of Global Anglicanism, which I was assigned in seminary.) This book is a fine-grained and extraordinarily well-researched account of the development of the church in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (formerly Zaire). If we’re going to be a global Communion, a good first step is knowing a bit more about where we come from. Also, it tells the story of Apolo Kivebulaya, whom all Anglicans should know about.

There are no novels on the list, even though fiction is often the best teacher. Maybe that will be a future list.

What would be on your list? What books do you wish your priests had read?

“Ambassadors for Christ”

Reconciliation is at the core of the good news of Jesus Christ:

“So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us.” (2 Cor. 5:17-19)

The Old Testament tells the story, in part, of the estrangement of God’s people from God. Instead of dusting his hands of them, God instead commits to God’s people in a whole new way in the Incarnation of Christ. The life, death, and resurrection of Christ reconciles the divide between God and God’s people and entrusts that message to the community of the baptized, to share it as widely as we can.

To that end, it’s encouraging to see that the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, has appointed David Porter as his Director of Reconciliation. David Porter comes from Coventry Cathedral, a place that has made itself a centre for the ministry of reconciliation.

Coventry Cathedral was destroyed by an air raid during World War II.IMG_5208

On the morning after the bombing, the then-dean had a cross made out of the burned timbers and inscribed “Father Forgive” on the altar.IMG_5202

This, in turn, led to the creation of the Community of the Cross of Nails and the cathedral’s reconciliation work. Justin Welby knows about this, because he used to work there.

I had a chance to meet David Porter on my visit to Coventry and he is an inspiring person: direct, funny, honest, forthright, holy, and deeply committed to spanning seemingly unbridgeable gulfs. His background is in the peace process in Northern Ireland but since going to work at Coventry he’s been involved in a number of places around the world.

Creating this position is a no-brainer, really, and David Porter is an excellent person to fill the role.

UPDATE: David Porter has written a reflection on his new position on his personal blog.

Thomas Bray’s unfinished project

About eighteen months ago, I spent some time at a seminary in Nigeria. Shortly after having a contentious conversation with a group of students’ wives about homosexuality, I peeked into the library. This is what I saw:IMG_1774

I’ve also spent time at a seminary in South Sudan. There, I also found a lot of people who found homosexuality to be difficult to reconcile with Christianity. Their library looked like this:IMG_2652

At Yale, where I went to school, I had access—literally—to millions of volumes and all the latest scholarship. At both these seminaries, the books are relatively few and are overwhelmingly old: there were few that were less than thirty years old. Yet at both places, I found students who were eager to read whatever they could get their hands on.

Think about where theology and the church were thirty years ago on the question of homosexuality. In that context, is it any wonder that we have such sharp disagreements on these issues?

The church commemorated last week Thomas Bray, a seventeenth century priest, who was instrumental in founding the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge (SPCK.) (He was also involved in founding the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, which was instrumental in bringing the church to the American colonies.)

Bray’s idea in founding SPCK was that Christians should have access to Christian scholarship and literature. He envisioned libraries in churches and an educated clergy. SPCK helped start some of the first libraries in the American colonies that focused on church-related material.

When we look at these libraries in places like Nigeria and South Sudan, we are reminded that Bray’s work is not yet done. There are really important insights of the last generation that have not been shared yet with our sisters and brothers around the world, and not just on questions of sexuality. (The Anglican Theological Review’s Seminaries Abroad Gift program is one very small way in which this work is being done.)

The commemoration of Thomas Bray is an opportunity to reflect on a visionary Anglican. But more importantly, it’s a chance to reflect on the vital need to continue his important work.

“Just do it”—but what about when I just can’t?

When I was growing up, a lot of people wore t-shirts or other athletic gear emblazoned with this logo:

The slogan pretty well sums up the dominant thinking of our world. We are to measure ourselves by our accomplishments and our abilities. We are judged by our marks on our exams, our ability to secure a promotion, our sexual prowess, and so on and so forth. If you can’t “just do it,” then you don’t have a place in society.

Today, a lot of people are going to be walking around with a different logo emblazoned on themselves, the one to the left. There’s no text to go along with it, but if there was, it might say, “I just can’t.” Perhaps you’ve had this experience. You try and try to “just do it” but no matter how hard you try, you just can’t.

This is where the good news of Jesus Christ begins—with the recognition that sometimes we cannot be the people God is calling us to be, sometimes we can’t do justice, love kindess, and walk humbly with our God, sometimes we can’t love our neighbour as ourselves, sometimes we can’t love God with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind.

And God sees all this and says, “That’s OK. You are loved.” That love is shown to us in the presence of God’s son, Jesus.

But the story doesn’t end there. And we see that in the logo Christians wear today. It’s a cross, the ultimate symbol of “I just can’t.” The cross shows just how deeply God knows the failings, imperfections, and inabilities of the world and its people.

The empty tomb on Easter Day, however, shows us how God redeems our failings and invites us into a new life in which “just do it” becomes an option in a whole new way. But that’s getting ahead of ourselves in the story.

Today, it’s alright to turn again to God and say, “I just can’t.” And hear God say, loud and clear, “I love you anyway.”

Picking a pope…or an Archbishop

The impending resignation of Pope Benedict XVI means that in the span of a few months, there will be a new Archbishop of Canterbury, a new pope of the Coptic Church, and a new Bishop of Rome, aka the Holy Father.

There are lots of reasons why this overlap might be interesting but I’ve been thinking about the various selection processes. The Copts had a blindfolded boy pick a name out of a bowl. The Roman Catholic cardinals will get together, do who knows what, and then send up white smoke.

And the Anglicans? Well, the Anglicans appointed a representative committee of lay people and priests, took resumes, had candidates answer questions, got together for a meeting, had some more meetings, and finally the Prime Minister tweeted who the next Archbishop would be, but only after the committee had leaked the name and some members tried to cash in on their inside knowledge by betting on the outcome.

So who comes out best? By all accounts, Justin Welby, the new archbishop of Canterbury, is a fine selection. But I wonder if these comparative processes don’t tell us something about the state of our church these days.

“Managerialism” seems to be taking over the church. In seminary, the comparisons between church and business seem to be growing. It is said the church needs priests who are “entrepreneurial,” for instance. Candidates with past business experience are looked upon favourably. There are probably good reasons for this—the church does need managers. In this context, it’s no wonder that the Crown Nominations Commission—the body that chose Welby—would ask candidates to submit answers to questions, compare resumes, and debate the merits of each candidate, just like any other hiring committee in the business world would.

And that’s fine. Except… I don’t know. Something about just seems so anti-septic, professional, and like it’s trying to control the Holy Spirit’s work. “If only we can get the right process,” you can hear people saying, “then we’ll get the right candidate.” And who knows. The cardinals may ask these very same questions. But I can’t help but think that in trying to create a church in the image we know best, we’re missing the point of how God works.

I don’t have any answers or conclusions. Managerialism is too entrenched in the church to go anywhere anytime soon. But the conjunction of three new religious leaders can’t but provoke thought.

A Carbon Fast for Lent

Received in e-mail from the Anglican Communion Environmental Network

Thursday, January 31, 2013

JUST IN TIME FOR LENT: CARBON FAST BRINGS ENVIRONMENTAL REALITIES TO LIFE

Lent is a time of repentance and fasting, of turning away from all that is counter to God’s will and purposes for his world and all who live in it. This year, Anglicans and all local faith communities are invited to focus on Lenten ‘acts of love and sacrifice’ (of which our Ash Wednesday speaks) on our contribution to climate change, and those most impacted by it.

To each of the “forty days” a specific action is prescribed which educates the participant and provides a significant action affecting creation positively. Originally developed by Tearfund, the programme has been re-configured by Rachel Mash of the Province of Southern Africa and is distributed through the ACEN and ACSA.

The fast builds on traditional Lenten practices where we give something up, such as chocolate or alcohol. The Carbon Fast asks participants to focus on giving up (or making changes to your lifestyle), to reduce your ‘carbon footprint’ – your total impact of environmentally damaging greenhouse gas emissions, usually measured in carbon dioxide equivalent, hence the name.

A traditional Lenten observance is ‘Fish on Fridays’. Why not also have a ‘Meat-free Monday’ – or some other day, if on Mondays you usually eat Sunday’s leftovers? Did you know that ‘a kilogram of steak could be responsible for as many greenhouse gases as driving a car for three hours while leaving all the lights on at home’ (D Fanelli, New Scientist, 2007, 2613:15)?

Participants can record experiences at a blog www.carbonfast2013.wordpress.com which will be available from Ash Wednesday through to Easter Sunday.

For more information contact:
Rachel Mash at mashr@ctdiocese.org.za.
Ken Gray rector@colwoodanglican.ca

Resource materials for the fast, suitable for posting in your parish or sharing with the congregation, are posted here.

What about when we don’t “do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God”?

A particular verse from the prophet Micah—chapter 6, verse 8—has long been a favourite of many Christians. “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” It even got a shout-out from Episcopal priest Luis Leon in his benediction at President Obama’s inauguration. It seems to summarize what many people believe about the life of faith.

The trouble is, of course, that there are many parts of the world where justice, kindness, and humility—along with a lot of other wonderful virtues—are not in great abundance.

One of these places is Sri Lanka. Since the end of its civil war in 2009, a single family of brothers has managed to consolidate its grasp on the levers of state power. Recently, the chief justice was impeached and removed from office. So much for justice, when it’s clear that the courts are firmly under the thumb of the president. A friend of mine involved in the church in Sri Lanka e-mailed to say, “Our situation is quite tense just now as people live in fear and anger and the Regime grows more suspicious and unpredictable. We need the prayers of all.” The church has been actively involved in this situation, in part by opposing the impeachment.

But I was struck by the recent pastoral letter of the Bishop of Colombo. In it, he denounces the current situation and writes, “We no longer appear to be a constitutional democracy.” But the action he calls for is not what you might expect. He calls for the church to repent:

This is a time for us as a Church to take an honest look at ourselves, where we have shamelessly compromised our loyalty to God. We need to repent of ways in which we, as individuals as well as collectively, have;

  • been silent when we should have spoken
  • allowed ourselves (thoughtlessly or out of fear) to be used by those in authority to speak lies or commit wrong and unjust acts
  • consciously received benefits for ourselves through acts of injustice committed against others

I as your Bishop, call the Church to a period of lament together for the terrible state of our nation today, and repentance for our failing as a Church to “love mercy, to seek justice and to walk humbly with the Lord” (Micah 6:8).

While reading this letter, I was reminded how Jesus’ ministry began with the call to repentance. It is very easy to long for change in the world and to demand that other people change. But that is not what Jesus begins with. Jesus begins with our own transformation. The message of the Gospel seems to be, “Change is going to come. Let it begin with me.”

I’m all for doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God. But I also know that simply stating that again and again won’t make it happen. What will make it happen, though, is turning again (the meaning of the word “repent”) in our weakness and imperfection to the overflowing love of God in Christ and allowing ourselves to be transformed in that encounter to be agents of the new reality God longs for us to live in.

The Bishop of Colombo has called for this Sunday, 3 February, to be a Day of Lament in the churches of the diocese. Perhaps we can join our sisters and brothers in Sri Lanka in prayer that day, as we pray for transformation in that country, but most of all within ourselves.

The “threat” of the “new churches”

The Anglican province of West Africa has recently reorganized itself, and has a new archbishop and primate, Solomon Tilewa Johnson. In an interview, he identified two challenges for the church: poverty and “new churches.”

The Archbishop was referring to the fact that traditional Churches on the continent of Africa have been increasingly concerned about losing particularly younger worshippers to newer, more charismatic Churches, or losing them from church altogether.

The author of the article in the Anglican Communion News Service subtly opined that this latter threat was “surprising.” But if you’ve been reading this blog, you’ll know it’s not.

After a trip to Nigeria 18 months ago, I asked, “What is Peter Akinola afraid of?” I saw, in my travels, the incredible growth of neo-Pentecostal churches and the way in which the growth of those churches threatened established denominations (Anglicanism chief among them) and made Anglicans become more like Pentecostals in theology, worship practice, approach to Scripture, and much else.

I returned from that trip, thought some more about it, and wrote a paper in which I argued that the Pentecostal explosion and its influence on Anglicans was one of the most under-reported stories in the Anglican Communion. That paper (which is a lot longer than a blog post) was published in the Journal of Anglican Studies, but is available for free online.

So I appreciate the frankness and honesty with which Archbishop Johnson raises the issue. It is clearly one that needs thoughtful reflection and consideration—what does it mean to be Anglican? Is the church designed to give people what they want or challenge them with a new way of living?—and it is encouraging to see a leader addressing the issue so openly.

UPDATE, 27 March 2013: This post is attracting quite a lot of attention lately, which is great. If you’re interested in reading my article in the Journal of Anglican Studies about “Anglocostalism,” you can find it by clicking here.