Topic: News

There have been many complaints over the last 10 years that we have developed a culture too much based on Rights and too little based on Responsibilities.  “No rights without responsibilities” could be the battle cry to re-balance our culture.  After all, it is easy to award someone a right, less easy to persuade them of their responsibilities – and then to hold them to account over their consequent behaviour.

But these two key words were in my mind this morning as I read about the storming of the United Nations compound in Afghanistan with the tragic deaths of 14 people, including 7 UN workers.  The crowd went wild, it is said, in response to the story of the burning of a Koran by a fundamentalist Church led by Pastor Jones in Florida.

Pastor Jones’ position seems to be ‘I am right, but not responsible’.  I fear a religious attitude that is so convinced of being right that it does not morally weigh up the likely consequences of its actions (i.e.: it does not take responsibility).  In some ways it is far easier to be right than to be responsible.  The former relies on a little thought and a lot of passionate conviction.  The latter relies on nurturing insight, understanding, sensitivity, wisdom and humility.  Pastor Jones, I noted, claimed not to “feel responsible”: was that a hint that he recognized he might be (but did not want to feel that burden and, by now, guilt of having caused these deaths)?  Or was it merely an indication, too common in our culture, that responsibility is reduced to whether we ‘feel responsible’?

Cain did not feel responsible for his brother Abel when challenged by Yahweh.  Cain replied “am I my brother’s keeper?”  That cry has echoed down the centuries and still resonates in our souls.  Most of us hate to be reminded how much our bad actions affect and influence others.  Perhaps convincing ourselves that we are RIGHT is one way of protecting ourselves from having to recognize the awesome responsibility we bear regarding each other.

I don’t like being angry.  I don’t find it an easy feeling to deal with.  And I have learnt about displaced anger: that is, when I allow myself to be open about feeling angry because of, say, a new computer (see my previous blog), there is probably another deeper issue troubling me.

I am cross about seeing quality people whose talents are unappreciated and unused.  In my recent meetings with Synods and Councils in the national Church, I am increasingly coming across talented priests who are not being stretched or encouraged to broaden their ministry.  My experience is within the Church, but I imagine that this may be familiar territory to you too.

What makes me angry is that recognising talent is something that should lie at the heart of any leadership in the church.  A vicar/rector is charged with identifying gifts, developing skills, releasing people into service, and celebrating all that volunteers do to enrich our common life.  As we approach our Annual Parish Meeting, for example, that is what we are doing as we invite people to consider joining the PCC – not only to do XYZ for the parish, but to provide some of the leadership that we need to flourish.  Or, when Nick Graham does his fantastic work in creating the youth choir Cadenza, we should be a place that rejoices in such leadership, with encouragement and support.  Or, take the Trinity Club: providing a safe environment for the robust exchange of views on tricky moral matters is an excellent way of developing the sort of thoughtfulness that any community needs.  Pastoral Care is not only about looking after the needy, it also involves bringing personal potential to fulfilment.  St Benedict says “The Abbot must so arrange everything that the strong have something to yearn for and the weak nothing to run from” (Rule 64.19).  Those in central or “senior” positions are required, because they see the wider picture, to seek to connect others with opportunities to serve.  In business terms, this is ‘talent management’ or running a ‘talent pipeline’: it’s not rocket science.  But my current experience, in speaking to a good number of committed energetic priests nationally, is that the Church of England has as yet a poor record.

And I puzzle over what comfort I can bring to those who are frustrated. 

I can say “Not everyone can be the Archbishop of Canterbury!”  There are a limited number of senior posts or influential committees to serve on, and, though we hope that choices about who does what are based on merit, it still means that there will be good people who are not chosen.  That is a difficult thing to convey to someone who is feeling left behind: just because you are not offered more responsibility, it does not mean that you are not good enough.  But what I want to say to those in “senior” positions is that dismay is keenly felt and needs to be managed: it is possible to establish a positive environment of expectation and service (which is recognisably different from a culture of high ambition and status-seeking).  This is possible, but requires quality leadership – and it takes time.

But there is also an amazingly powerful phrase in the prayer that Methodists use at the start of each year in their service of “Renewing the Covenant”.  The congregation pray to God:

…. let me be employed for you,
or laid aside for you……

I find it hard at the moment to support others who are feeling that the Church is “laying them aside”.  It seems such a waste.  It might be that God is choosing to “lay them aside” – but discerning whether that is God’s will or the Church’s incompetence is hard.  Jesus said “the harvest is plentiful but the labourers are few”.  My anger is stirred by the thought that our current reality may be “the harvest is plentiful, and the labourers are ready and willing, but they are not being properly commissioned”.

Arrrrrrrrrrrggggghhhhhhh!

I hate it when IT goes wrong.  Hate it.  Hate it.  Hate it.

My computer at home had to be replaced urgently.  I was very grateful to the Office, Rogan and others who supported this.  But I dread any trip to PC World because I feel so out of my depth.  It’s the same with cars – I can fill a car with petrol and drive it.  Anything else is largely beyond me.

Anyway, with all the courage I could muster, I bought a new computer and a range of accessories.  Why is it that I can turn the machine on and it immediately works, with amazing capacities?  Yet when I unpack a new keyboard, out of the box falls a manual of 120 pages!  There seems a remarkable difference between the two ends of the spectrum: “plug and play” and all these pages of information about how to use a keyboard.

The Reformation was partly fought over the issue that the Catholic Church had made God too remote – immediacy had been sucked out of the relationship; an ordinary believer had to wade through all sorts of conditions, liturgical practices and devotional prayers to come in any way close to the loving God.  As the early years of the Reformation passed by, perhaps some came to over-emphasise intimacy with God – as though God spoke directly to them, immediately about every detail of their life.  For most people, such a relationship with God soon begins to feel unbalanced.  Yes, God is intimately connected with us; but God is also the majestic transcendent creator of all that exists.  Too much intimacy domesticates God, and eradicates glory, awesomeness and majesty.

But the opposite of a simple relationship with God is not one based on secret complicated rules which are revealed only to a chosen few.  That has been a false path since the earliest days of the Christian Church, and is generally labelled “Gnosticism”: meaning any pattern of religion that relies of a secret knowledge, accessible to few.  No, the counter-balance to intimacy with God is a recognition that it takes time and discipline to get into the right ‘place’ where we are likely to encounter God.  This can involve moral discipline (it takes time to be moulded by God’s will so that we are likely to follow it intuitively and so be God’s immediate companions on our life’s journey), or devotional discipline (this is not a matter of saying complicated prayers, but a recognition that some of the profound things in life take time to express and be felt deeply), or theological rigour (we don’t need to think complicated thoughts to come close to God, but rather some of our ‘natural’ patterns of behaviour need to be unpicked so that we can appreciate the heart of who God is).

Some of our praying will have the nature of “plug and play”: just say what is on your mind, as though God is standing right beside you.  Some of our faithful living (especially during Lent) recognises the other end of the spectrum: that devotion, dedication and application makes it more likely that we will at some stage encounter God.  Both are needed.

With IT, I struggle with the latter.  But if anyone is selling magic wands that make computer equipment work simply and smoothly, then I would like to buy two now.

I am standing down as the Chair of the Bishop Simeon Trust.

Simeon Nkoane was the assistant Bishop of Johannesburg in the 1970s.  He was a charismatic figure with a passion for youth work especially amongst the poorest in the townships of that city.  One day, during the darkest moments of Apartheid, an English friend, Judith Scott, asked “what can I do to support you in your work?”  Simeon replied “Take some of the talented black youths out of the townships – specially those being targeted by the Security Forces – and give them an education in England, so that they can return as some of the leaders of the next generation”.

And so the work of the Bishop Simeon Trust was started, and has continued to this day with a focus on youth, education, leadership …. and, since the 1990s, work with those affected by AIDS.  20 years ago the Anglican Church in South Africa recognised that the Diocese of Johannesburg was too large, and decided to split it into 4 dioceses.  The eastern quarter was to become the Diocese of the Highveld, and Bishop Simeon was to have become it first bishop – but sadly he died of cancer too soon.  So David Beetge was appointed as the first Bishop; upon his untimely early death, Bishop David Bannerman was appointed, who holds that post today.  This story intersects with our parish’s history in 1997, through the fortuitous introduction to us by Stephen and Rachel Bampfylde of Bishop David Beetge.  So began a grace-filled relationship with him and the people of that Diocese; my being Chair of BST brought these two stories together.

In my five years as Chair of BST, the trust has moved on in two main ways:

20 years ago BST was merged with another Trust also working around Johannesburg, The Living South African Memorial, based at St Martin’s in the Fields, London. It was wonderful to bring together the passion and commitment of people from that parish which, being next door neighbours with the South African Embassy, has been in the forefront of the struggle against Apartheid for generations.  The two Trusts were welded and merged, but perhaps not fully united until recently.  It was particularly exciting for me last week to be travelling in South Africa with a new trustee who knows nothing of this history, and so can come to our work without that baggage.  I believe I can hand over a united board with less burden of the past.  It is remarkable how history of organisations can live on – but then we know that in this parish which was “united” as Holy Trinity and St Mary’s a mere 312 years ago!

Secondly, after a few years as Chair, I began to feel increasingly awkward about making significant decisions in Watford (the home base of BST) that affected the lives of thousands living in Jo’burg.  It felt most awkward when I was actually among the people of South Africa: I knew that some decisions had to be made much closer to the people whose lives were being affected.  We needed a South Africa based employee of BST.  So, a few years ago, we made the post of Director redundant, and shifted the post southwards.  You will understand that that process is not easy, but we have secured an excellent person now working in the Highveld, Bandi Biko, who I hope may visit us in England some time soon.

I have also overseen much ordinary work in the last five years: employees coming and going, developing better relationships with donors, and the recent highlight of securing the Comic Relief grant for the next five years.  So it feels a good time to be handing the reins over to someone else.  BST is in good heart and the commitment to continue the work is high.  We will continue the link this parish has with the people of this area, and I will continue to offer whatever support I can as a Canon of that Diocese.

I am doing this now as I have recently been elected to the Archbishops’ Council, and so I needed to clear some space in my diary to take on this new responsibility in this country.  My first meeting of that Council I will be attending today.  More about that later.

I was kindly greeted upon my return from South Africa by many of you asking about the fruits of my trip.  In particular, there were questions about whether the money donated to Comic Relief, through the Bishop Simeon Trust, for the people of South Africa is being well spent.  As we approach another Red Nose Day, this deserves a robust response: “Yes, yes, yes.  I know because I am partly responsible for spending such money”.

I was glad to come across the term ‘Poverty tourism’ before I fell into the mistake of doing it myself.  It’s easy to travel around, in awe of how dreadful conditions are in these townships, and perversely benefiting from (or even enjoying) being able to see such poverty.  So, I could tell you much about:

• The project that laid a concrete base for its wooden classrooms – only to find that the rats chew their way up, making holes in the concrete

   

• How beautiful it is to look at a crèche with 30 2 year olds sleeping after lunch, all lying together on their blankets on the floor, knowing that 70% or more are likely to be HIV+……