On the last day in Ottawa at the 134th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church commissioners were told there was good news and bad news. Good news: all business was completed – recommendations, overtures, reports all done. Bad news: there was still an agenda and the assembly had to continue. Above the speaker's head on a large screen was the agenda that was proving to be the bad news and forcing the assembled to remain in court: presentations by the Young Adult Representatives and the student representatives from the three colleges.
I am certain that the speaker would be horrified to think his joke could be seen as anything other than its intent, to lighten the mood; but, this example is the classic definition of "systemic discrimination." I don't mean to pick on the speaker, of course, but this moment perfectly illustrates for me a continuing struggle between those who control the business of the church and those who struggle to express their voice.
This was a very emotional assembly during which some voices long left silent were heard personally and powerfully. Tuesday evening two residential school survivors gave their testimony honestly and graciously. And the assembly moderator, Rev. Cheol Soon Park, tapped into the deep emotions in the court and expressed on our behalf, as a fellow Presbyterian, the horror and sorrow felt by everybody towards the condescending apartheid of the past.
In that moment age, culture, race, presbytery and all other shallow identities were erased and we were all one in the name of Christ, expressing our apology through our moderator to people victimized by our institution.
Most people in the room were aware an official apology had been expressed by the church many years ago. But, the moment was about listening – yes, again – and responding with pastoral care. And that listening was a steady theme through the week. Park, who just happens to be of Korean descent, was a reminder that our church has moved past its European roots. (Last year's moderator was of Dutch descent, one of a few in a long line of Scots, Irish and English; the two before were women, one a long serving lay member, in a tradition of men and clergy). The celebration of the centenary of diaconal ministry reminded us of those tireless women who worked faithfully in the trenches while they were denied keys to the front door.
And while the majority of the commissioners were of European descent, the court represented almost every continent, and many of these "others" did participate in the debate. Also, in its course assembly approved the church's new race relations policy; which, though decades behind society, is a welcome addition to our process.
And so in a week of opening voices it was discouraging that our youth were mocked as bad news agenda. It was a recidivist moment delaying the future. And as always at these moments – examples of diaconal ministers and residential school survivors come to mind – it is the graciousness of the "other" that saves the day.
After a week of looking back at our sins and our forgotten heroes it was good to look forward with those who carry hope. Two of the college students have come only recently to the Presbyterian Church – one listed our polity as a primary reason. All three spoke of their passion for the church; it was very moving.
I look forward to these speeches each year as I do to the YARs; and this year's group of teens was particularly remarkable. Serious, witty, sincere, talented, born leaders – they asked the church for more voice. One of them suggested each congregation have a YAR on session. I second that motion, moderator!
As somebody who was ordained elder in his early twenties, I know it's not an easy job. As a YAR on session I could have eased into the job. That is one smart way of getting through the business of church to its real agenda. We are an institution in the name of one who was anti-institutional. He spoke truth to power; not power to truth. Which, by the way, is another definition of systemic discrimination.
