Unity does not mean uniformity; diversity does not mean division.

It seems to me that one of the main challenges the churches and denominations face, perhaps moreso in this time than any other, is to work with greater integrity and grace with one another. As the Christian faith suffers at the hands of an increasingly secularised society (and, indeed, an increasingly more apathetic society – perhaps the greater danger), the public perception of division and disagreement within the Church (upper-case ‘C’, no one denomination) can only hasten its marginalisation.

The answer, of course, does not lie in creating uniformity and stifling diversity. I can’t think of anything more dire than an army of Christian clones who all act the same and think the same. And indeed, does creation itself not argue against such an approach? How easy would it have been for God to create each person in His own likeness, in exactly the same way, over and over again? Yet that is not what we have. Instead, there is an enormous variety of gifts and talents, of creativity and uniqueness.

Our trip included a visit to the World Council of Churches and it was fascinating getting a first-hand account of what their aims were and the challenges they face. Here, perhaps more than anywhere, the reality of unity without uniformity and diversity without division ought to have been clearly seen. And yet, we still heard stories of disagreements, but also some interesting little hints of change, of long-standing barriers gradually being broken down and challenged.

Of course such changes take time and there will always be voices who oppose such cross-denomination activities. But we were reminded one evening that the Reformed church’s cry of ‘semper reformanda’ is so often mistranslated as ‘always reforming’. Rather its more correct understanding of ‘always in need of reform’ seems to be something that we need to grab hold of as relationships with others develops. It says that we don’t have all the answers or the correct way of doing things. And this, of course, is another cause of Christian ‘clones’ – a sense of having the correct answers and the right way of ‘doing’ church means that one never questions, but simply adopts.

Isaiah 53:6 tells us that we have all wandered off the path, like sheep. We may well all behave like sheep, but with the exception of Dolly, even sheep aren’t clones. Time to stop behaving as though we need to be.

Geneva, of course, was one of the wellsprings of the Protestant Reformation, famous largely, but not exclusively, as the place where Calvin taught and preached. But Geneva is also home to major world organisations: the UN, World Health Organisation, the International Committee of the Red Cross, UNHCR and many others. The group had the pleasure of visiting the World Council of Churches to get a flavour of the work they do and their vision for world Christianity.

We also took the chance to visit the cathedral, including the Sunday morning service, and we were able to worship with the Church of Scotland congregation in the Auditoire de Calvin which sits just to one side of the square occupied by the cathedral. Nikki and I also had the privilege of leading our evening devotions in the Auditoire on Friday evening. She’s written about it here and I still can’t quite get over how some silly ideas came together in the way they did. I’m still not convinced that Calvin would have entirely approved, but it was so very appropriate for the occasion.

Add to that some sight-seeing time, an excellent art gallery and some great company and it was an excellent long weekend. I’ll post some more reflections on specific parts of the trip in due course. My photo album from the trip can be found here.

It never seems long enough to get to know all the people you would wish to. It’s never long enough to get to know those you did as well as you should. It never seems long enough to cram in all that you would want to do with the safety net of a supervisor to hand.

I’ve said it before, but finishing up a placement is a strange time. Although the time does seem to flash past, 8 months is still a long time. It’s plenty of time to begin to get to know people’s stories; it’s plenty time to begin to build up emotional bonds with people; it’s plenty of time to really start to care for folks. So when it’s time to move on, it’s a wrench. But behind it all is the knowledge that it is only a part of the journey. Knowing that the move is inevitable means, for me anyway, that towards the end of the placement you cannot help but begin to look forward, to a place beyond the current placement. It means that when you do hit that end point you are already a little bit disconnected. It all adds to the strangeness of the whole process of formation for ministry.

What I do need to do now though is begin to think through what I’ve done, not just in this placement, but in all the others, and begin to work out what I need to focus on for probation. On this placement in particular I have felt that inexorable march towards ministry. It has been an opportunity to tick a handful more boxes on the ‘should have done’ list. It has been an opportunity to refine skills and to keep working on the ones which are still very rough round the edges. It has been an opportunity to make mistakes knowing that, as a student, some allowances are made and that there is someone there to pick up the pieces if things went drastically wrong (which they never did, I think). It has also been an opportunity to experiment and test out ways of doing things, again knowing that an experienced voice is on hand to help analyse and critique in a positive way.

Of course, all of this means that a lovely bunch of people have to put up with a lot of the ups and downs as well. The congregation have been nothing if not supportive and understanding, gracious with feedback and encouraging in their comments. Many commented today that they too couldn’t believe 8 months had passed so quickly. (Perhaps that’s a blessed relief from their perspective.)

So now there is the small matter of a dissertation to write over the summer (now watch the time really disappear) with probation starting on the 1st of September. Given the speed with which time seems to fly by at the moment, maybe it’s time to start ringing those warning bells for when I get let loose on my own.

Oh yes, and there’s the ‘Not a licensing’ Service of Recognition organised by the presbytery on the 24th of June, 7pm, Larbert East Church, where Andy and I will be given a slap on the back in acknowledgement of putting up with it all thus far.

The task of prophetic ministry is to nurture, nourish and evoke a consciousness and perception alternative to the consciousness and perception of the dominant culture around us. Thus I suggest that prophetic ministry has to do not primarily with addressing specific public crises but with addressing, in season and out of season, the dominant crisis that is enduring and resilient, of having our alternative vocation co-opted and domesticated.

The italics are Brueggemann’s and state the hypothesis for  the book. The extract, I believe, succinctly states the mission and problem for the church. The church needs to be counter-cultural. And that doesn’t mean that it decries culture, rather it should always be asking if this is the ‘best’ we can achieve. And by ‘best’, I would suggest that that means being more ‘Christ-like’; being fully human and fully spiritual creatures, living life in its fullest measure without fear of discrimination, oppression and injustice.

But the extract also highlights the biggest danger the church faces – becoming ‘co-opted and domesticated’. (The phrase, “Aslan is not a tame lion” has just sprung to mind). My biggest fear of Emerging Church is that the Christian distinctives get subsumed by a desire to be ‘relevant’ – faith and worship are co-opted to suit a context, rather than that happening the other way round. Domestication comes when the church is no longer proactive but reactive and is ‘used’ to provide social services or a place where religious-types can go on a Sunday morning. Or perhaps domestication has come through the church becoming a useful branch of Historic Scotland responsible for the upkeep of a bunch of old buildings. I’m sure there are many ways in which we have become ‘co-opted and domesticated’.

How easy is it though to rediscover our revolutionary voice?

The title, ‘Why the Scots don’t vote Tory’, caught my eye and I watched it on catchup. It wasn’t terribly informative and only hinted at some of the answers. Nevertheless, one comment caught my attention. One lady, a mother of seven (iirc), living in one of the wealthier areas of Glasgow, admitted that her family would probably be better off under Tory government, but felt that voters also had a moral obligation to consider the effect of their vote on others. The implication, of course, being that a Tory government would have the interests of only a small(er) part of society in mind. Sally Magnusson, the presenter, did venture the opinion that the apparent Tory focus on individual achievement and advancement grated on the Scots’ sense of community and fairness. I suspect this would have been a particularly fruitful line of enquiry, but it wasn’t really followed up.

Now, I’m in no particular position to argue the merits of one party over another in terms of their community focus or their social responsibility. Labour’s track record on this hasn’t exactly been exemplary either. Nor would I care to argue that this is a uniquely Scottish phenomenon. I’m sure our English, Welsh and Irish neighbours can be every bit as community-minded, just as Scots can be just as self-centred as anyone else. But it did get me thinking about something else I read recently about Emerging Church and its criticism of the established (or inherited) church.

One of the key criticisms of the established church (by EC) is that it is locked into, and colludes with, a ‘modern’ worldview. (As an aside, it can be argued that EC is just as guilty of this with respect to a postmodern worldview.) But, for the established church, what this means is that it is locked into a way of thinking that it sees as the correct way, yet is no longer how many people think – especially those in the younger generations. In particular, as it relates to this blog entry, established church is seen to be too individualistic – too much emphasis on a ‘personal faith’ in a ‘personal saviour’. (And, as another aside, in my opinion, this is a crucial area where EC falls into the very same trap – it risks ‘over-contextualising’ to the point where, although it may not be individuals, it can be a very small and exclusive clique.)

It’s an interesting question to ask though whether this has been the natural drift of the church or whether it has been pushed into this corner by the changing mindset of society. But therein lies the problem, as I see it, for the church. I think that the criticism that the established church has, generally speaking, colluded with society is a fair one. It’s almost as though, in its humility, the church hasn’t wanted to rock the boat and upset people by being too ‘in their face’ or too outspoken. It has listened to and agreed with the secular voices which have told it that religion and faith is a personal thing and not for the public arena.

This year there are celebrations marking the 450th anniversary of the Scottish Reformation – an event steeped in social change, especially education (ironically individual). The Church of Scotland has had, and continues to have, a strong tradition of supporting social projects, both at home and overseas. That ‘community’ ethic, strong moral responsibility and social justice, still runs deep within the Scottish psyche, I believe. But it risks being subsumed and diluted as our society expands to include those from other parts who have chosen to make Scotland their home. Don’t misunderstand me though. I’m not saying that welcoming others into Scottish society is a bad thing, rather that it places a greater responsibility on the church in Scotland to be the voice of social concern and community focus.

At the moment I think it still listens too much to the voices which tell us that religion is a private matter. I think a parallel can be drawn with the side-lining of the Tories in Scotland (assuming the ‘individualist’ criticism is valid) and the increasing irrelevance of the church in Scotland. I also think it’s one of the dangers of jumping on the EC bandwagon – we risk becoming even more focussed on pleasing individuals rather than growing in relevance to society as a whole. I think that if the church were to find its prophetic voice again (and some have) then it would become more relevant. And that doesn’t simply mean being critical, but rather, showing the way forward (it’s not like we don’t have a good example to follow). And I also believe that if the church does that then there will also be pressure on the political parties to be more serious about social justice and community support and be less about selfish gain. Maybe even the Tories would be popular again.

Politics and religion can make for an awkward mix, but churches cannot disconnect from political life, for that would be a disconnection from public life. I don’t generally blog about politics, but maybe when I blog about faith and church and theology the politics is in there anyway.

Labels can be useful. They are convenient at times and without them our discussions would be laborious and time-consuming. But when the label becomes the person then what we have done is dehumanised them. We have decided that they are just a… As a friend reminded me recently in conversation, the gospel is not about dehumanising, but rehumanising. We find our full self-understanding and self-identity in our relationship with God and the gospel is that God is willing, even dying, to get us to understand that.

My devotional reading this morning was from the flood narrative in Genesis. Regardless of whether you view it as historical or a rewriting of another culture’s mythology, it contains a pretty brutal assessment of humanity and, more importantly, God’s response. “I will never again curse the ground because of the human race, even though everything they think or imagine is bent towards evil from childhood.” (Genesis 8:21, NLT) We have been labelled, yet God looks past the label. We are all, every one, imperfect. No one is more ‘good’ than another in God’s eyes for everything we do is tainted. Yet God’s grace looks beyond the label and says, “I love and choose you anyway.”

Last year, at GA, there was an invitation to join in conversation over coffee; an opportunity to get to understand the person, not the label – gay, straight, fundie, liberal, whatever. I wonder how many coffee conversations have taken place? It’s kind of difficult to have a conversation with a label. It’s kind of difficult to even accept an invitation from a label; we can only accept an invitation from a person.