From my window on to our church I see a very dynamic denomination. Or more accurately, I see many very dynamic, progressive, theologically sound, daring, Christ-like silos within our denomination. I see congregations, small and large, engaged in their community, and in the world. And, though I realize it is not fashionable to say so, I see cutting-edge work being done within the national church. Presbyterian World Service and Development, Presbyterians Sharing, International Ministries, Canada Ministries, Education, the Vine Helpline, Stewardship, Ministry and Vocation – all the many and varied branches under the Life and Missions Agency, along with Assembly Council, do Loaves-and-Fishes work, taking small resources and multiplying them many-fold to reach almost every corner of the planet. It is quite breathtaking to see the work being done.
It is equally breathtaking to see the work of faith done by congregations. There are villages and communities across the planet that have food, water, education and health care because of our congregations. There are many individuals within Canada who have received a new lease on life, thanks to local congregations. And I haven't begun to touch upon the work done by chaplains, diaconal ministers and many other stalwart servants, who carve a little heaven here on earth, every day.
Naturally prone to cynicism – which can be a healthy and an often accurate approach to society – I find myself overcome by hopefulness on most days. I have learned that if you think only governments and militaries can change the world then you're an idiot. I have learned that affecting one life can change the world. Give one child a chance to grow and learn and you have changed the world.
And our denomination does that every day. We are a powerful force in the world. And yet it doesn't seem so. Our pool of members and the cash they generate keeps declining. There is a smug and on-going mistrust of our polity – of presbyteries, of synods, of national branches. There is a reasonable wariness towards centralization. Our ministers are depressed, our lay leaders are stretched. We bicker over theology. (As we've learned at the Record, mention there are homosexuals in the world, for example, and congregations rush to cancel their group subscriptions.)
It seems that while we are engaged in the Good News, we have little good news to share. The world moves too fast for some, not fast enough for others. And yet from my vantage our church can be a leading force of change in the world. Despite our bullheadedness we are pretty good at talking and compromising. But we're not there; not yet. There are some serious fissures in our denominational landscape but I don't know if they are narrow and deep or wide and shallow. I hope they're not wide and deep.
Or to restate my case: We have already changed. We are engaged in the changes in our society, in our denomination. We are active agents of change. But all of our changes are locked within local silos. We're talking cross-purposes, not to each other, but at each other. And in many ways, denominationally, we are cowardly – afraid to rock the boat, demand change, engage conversations.
We need a huge push, a grand metaphor, something, that can bridge our disconnects. The vehicle for that change should be the annual gathering of the clan, this year in Hamilton. And perhaps the bickering and the business the past few years at General Assembly really is adding up to something. But its hard to see that vision. It lacks clarity, declaration and transparency. The voices raised high by individuals and congregations are not coming together to form a cohesive harmony. Perhaps they're not being sought; perhaps that's why assembly can sound cacophonous.
Our church needs a faithful, Christ-like look at our sacrosanct traditions, polity and myriad silos. We are so close to being Christ's church, here on earth.
