• What should ecumenical and interfaith dialogue actually be about?

    I’ve taken, in the manner of Jeremy Corbyn, to asking for suggestions for things that I might write about on the blog. This article stems from a suggestion by Hugh Foy via twitter.

    It seems to me that in Scotland, things are very different within the ecumenical movement to where we are thinking about interfaith. Indeed, I’d say that it is difficult to see much energy these days within the ecumenical world whereas, I think there’s still a lot of interest in things interfaith.

    For those who don’t know what I’m talking about, ecumenical is to do with how churches within Christianity relate to one another and interfaith is to do with how churches relate to other believers and maybe atheists, secular humanists and other groups focused around non-belief too.

    Ecumenical endeavour and interfaith work feel very different because I think that there has been a default position within the ecumenical movement to focus on that which unites churches and to ignore the things which divide the churches and also ignore the things which divide people in churches one from other. It is an understandable thing to do but it seems to have led us into a bit of a cul-de-sac. Action for Churches Together in Scotland, the main ecumenical organisation in Scotland is currently celebrating its 25th anniversary. I remember very well the hopes that surrounded its founding – particularly since it represented the first time that the Roman Catholic Church in Scotland had become a member of an ecumenical body. Unfortunately the arrival of the Roman Catholics led to the withdrawal of the Baptists. Even more unfortunately, when the Scottish Parliament came along, the Roman Catholic Church opted to set up its own parliamentary lobbying office in addition to the Scottish Churches Parliamentary Office.

    I have never known the ecumenical movement to be at such a low ebb as it is at the moment. I say that whilst trying not to make value judgements about it. It just doesn’t seem to have much energy nor a huge amount of relevance to the life of the churches. This is partly because there have been competing visions of what ecumenism would lead to. The most passionate advocates of ecumenism hoped very greatly that there would be a move towards the organic unity of at least some of the denominations involved. The last great attempt was something called SCIFU which was an attempt to bring several of the churches into one new denomination that would have been distinguished by retaining all the buildings (“worship centres”) of the former churches and also importing every different flavour of church governance that was known to Christendom. It was a madcap scheme (and here I do start to make gentle value judgements) that deserved to fail because of its insanity. (And here I depart from being gentle and pretending to be objective). It would have left us drowning in governance structures and magnifying our problems with buildings forever more.

    There have been some noble attempts to find something to build on from the ashes of the SCIFU experiment, not least the EMU efforts between the Episcopal, Methodist and United Reformed Churches. These are successful in that they would be entirely unknown by most of our church members but give those who like that sort of thing something to have a passion about. I’m convinced that here will be no further attempt at organic unity that affects my own church within my lifetime even if life on our own becomes terribly difficult. Better well hung than ill wed – as Kierkegaard’s rather vivid translation of Shakespeare would have it.

    People are making their own ecumenism anyway. My own congregation is made up of people from all kinds of traditions very happily worshipping together. Roman Catholics, Orthodox, Methodists, Cradle Anglicans and Anglican Converts, Baptists, the odd atheist or agnostic and those on the run from the Brethren all happily receive communion together and sing God’s praises with laldy and I don’t think I ever hear any arguments or trouble about where we all come from – we just get on with it. The governance of St Mary’s falls within the Scottish Episcopal Church and my own sense of identity as an Episcopalian is something I care about hugely but I have to recognise that a lot of people are happy simply to receive their formation from one church and then live in an entirely different one, which may have quite distinct doctrines, without caring a bean about it nor even moving their membership formally from one to another. Others within the community do care and do need ceremonies and ways of marking their decision to pitch their tent under the Episcopalian umbrella, to mangle a metaphor into a rather glorious image of togetherness. I have to care both for people who do care about denominations and those who don’t.

    There’s a big contrast when we start to deal with the interfaith movement. The best thing about the interfaith movement is that we are at the discovery level in most of our engagement at the moment. We are going through a period where we are literally getting to know one another and even better, there’s far less expectation than within the ecumenical movement that we all think the same things.

    Within the ecumenical movement the basic presumption for many people is that we all agree and we discover when we get to know one another that we don’t. Within the interfaith movement the base principle is that we are different and don’t agree and then when we get to know one another we are often surprised by how much we recognise and how much we do actually agree on in the end. This actually makes interfaith work easier in some respects. There are fewer expectations and fewer ways in which you can fail.

    Now, I think that ecumenism and the interfaith movement could benefit from talking about some hard topics.

    A little while ago I was at a banquet that some Muslim folk had invited Christian leaders to in order to celebrate one of their festivals. I found myself sitting with a Sheikh and a Roman Catholic archbishop. All of a sudden in the middle of the dinner, things go interesting when the Sheikh leaned across and said to the Archbishop and me, “Tell me about how the Christians are dealing with homosexuality”.

    All of a sudden, ecumenical and interfaith became completely entwined. It was a good setting for a conversation and I know that each of us learned something whilst eating our onion bhajis. It was a grace filled conversation because it took place over food in an atmosphere of friendship where no-one’s reputation was at stake. Was sodomy the same as homosexuality? Was homosexuality amongst women different to homosexuality amongst men? What was our attitude to changes in the law? How did different age groups within our communities deal with these questions differently? How had our communities been taken by surprise by changing social attitudes?

    My hunch is that the interfaith movement may yet prove to be the salvation of the ecumenical movement. As Christianity encounters other faiths, its practitioners encounter one another. And I think that we’ll find that both informal conversations and formal ones need to go alongside one another. It could well be that we need more of the informal if we are going to deal with any of the real questions that matter to us. In such contexts we will may be able more easily to deal with the things that clearly matter to us all – poverty, LGBT issues, ways in which women and men relate to each other, God and society, safety on the streets, immigration, globalisation and so on. One thing is clear to me and that is that if ecumenism is only about ecumenism and interfaith dialogue is simply about interfaith dialogue then each has failed utterly.

    Throwing a banquet or two for our interfaith friends may well the best way for Christians to get on. Is not extravagant hospitality not one of the hallmarks of what it means to be an authentic faith community in the first place?

    Anyone want to establish the Banqueting Committee of ACTS?

    If so, I’m in.

27 responses to “A Response to the Prime Minister”

  1. Patsy Avatar
    Patsy

    Dear Kelv

    You make some interesting points. But do you have to be so rude? All the “Dave” stuff is a bit juvenile. If you want to have a serious debate surely you can show a bit of respect? Also maybe a little charity – was it really necessary to be quite so snide (I almost said “nasty”) about the PM’s rather hesitant comments on his own faith?

    1. william Avatar
      william

      Well said and well put – Patsy.
      Sadly ‘revisionists’ don’t seem to recognise ‘rudeness’, lack of ‘charity’, ‘unattractiveness’ in what they say and do within the church, although they believe they recognise them and see them in others.
      It could be that blindness to all of this is because of the paucity of grace in their mindset; Pelagians don’t feel the need for grace or atonement as much as the rest of us.
      They seem to assume God is always smiling on them, and is always pleased with the worship they present to Him, whatever its content or assumptions. Even in whatever behaviour they engage in, even boast of.
      In Jeremiah’s day, in contrast, the religious were warned frequently with words like: peace, peace – when there was no peace. But most did not have ears to hear such warnings.
      Maybe your wisdom will strike a chord of caution.

      1. kelvin Avatar

        >They seem to assume God is always smiling on them

        Oh yes! Oh yes!

      2. Ryan Avatar
        Ryan

        William, you and Pasty know (or should) that ‘Dave’ is a popular phrase quite widely used to refer to Cameron’s ‘couch sofa’ style Blairist governing style and his attempts to *present himself* as a man of the people rather than a privleged OE. Dare one say that calling a David ‘Dave’ is , in terms of rudeness, not exactly up there with demonising gay people, nor implying that someone who disagrees with an opinion *on* a theological matter is somehow ignorant *of* theology?

        Can you cite a ‘non’ revisionist expression of church that offers worship that would please the God of Jeremiah, William? Personally I think the sort of glorious Eucharists that St.Mary’s feature hit closer to the mark than either (say) Shine Jesus Shine style worship songs or the glum langours of (e.g.) ‘biblical’ presbyterianism, but YMMV….

        Also, given that this is the same David Cameron who appeared in gay mag Attitude suggesting that the C of E could take lead from the now (relatively) gay-friendly tory party and giving it the sackcloth-and-ashes in regard to Section 28, I do have to laugh at self-styled fundamentalists accusing beastly Kelvin of being so mean about Cameron’s in-no-way-largely-for-political-gain theological musings.

  2. william Avatar
    william

    Ryan – have a happy christmas – William!

    1. Ryan Avatar
      Ryan

      Ah, robust and scrupulous engagement with comments as always William! 😉

      And also, as they say, to you.

  3. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    “It could be that blindness to all of this is because of the paucity of grace in their mindset; Pelagians don’t feel the need for grace or atonement as much as the rest of us.
    They seem to assume God is always smiling on them, and is always pleased with the worship they present to Him, whatever its content or assumptions. ”

    This is not merely inaccurate but terrible theology.
    1-Nobody is more scrupulous about worship than Kelvin. The content of Episcopal worship is (unlike that of denominations less heavily influenced by the Catholic tradition) carefully prescribed.
    2 – Grace, in the Reformed sense is, in fact, a frequent theme of his sermons.
    3 – The real trouble with Pelagians is that they assume they have to EARN the favour of God – and that he is not very likely to be induced to smile on them. It is Athanasians who believe that God comes to them, and despite their inability to get things right, smiles on them. You have reversed the two. Allow me to suggest that Kelvin’s theology, which as one who has listened to him and read him, I think I understand, is such that he knows he is beloved by God even if he sometimes gets things wrong. Whereas you write as though you think you have to get your theology and other assorted beliefs right to be loved by God. But it is not so. Even people who make the most astonishing mistakes God are still his children, loved and carried in his heart.

    1. kelvin Avatar

      Right on all counts, Rosemary. There is nothing I can do to make God love me more. I’m already utterly loved. Morality, ethics, grace and love are all predicated on that love being entirely unwavering. There is nothing that I can do (even less believe) that would make God love me more.

      I would add that I have been to a place which claims to be the tomb of Athanasius.

      (It was a little smelly).

      1. william Avatar
        william

        How profound, and yet how gloriously true – “There is nothing I can do to make God love me more.”
        That’s the whole biblical meta narrative – God does everything, even recreates us in the image of His Son by His Spirit – as Paul said, we are ‘new creation’.
        And our heavenly Father has done all this for us that He might have children bearing the family likeness – not that our obedience will make Him love us more.
        But disobedience to what He has spoken will surely lead to fatherly chastisement.
        So in that regard there is always more we can do, as opposed to “There is nothing that I can do”. Good fathers do not smile on their children’s disobedience, even though they do not love them less.
        Sadly Pelagius pursued and taught the route of meritorious good works to please the Father [and the heresy is still vigorously alive today] – he was blind enough to think he might even be able to do this.
        Augustinians pursue grace – but increasingly their lives are being conformed to the likeness of Christ as Jesus said, by their fruits you will know them.
        Righteousness by faith is not a legal fiction!

  4. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    There appears no way of liking Kelvin’s comment ‘oh yes,oh yes,’ but consider it very heavily liked.

    Somebody tell william that getting me going on Jeremiah might not be wise. Oh, I know, tell him to read http://lovebloomsbright.wordpress.com/2011/12/13/with-justice-and-with-righteousness/

    1. william Avatar
      william

      Rosemary – I did read it and found it intensely moving.
      Probing the intensity of the Father’s yearnings over His ancient people is only matched [fulfilled is maybe a better word]by His Son’s brokenness for us at Gethsemane and beyond.
      Yet that’s the way – the only way – for us ever to have His smile upon us.
      Have you done a reading on Isaiah 5?

      1. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
        Rosemary Hannah

        That is very sweet of you william- and actually Is 5 is an excellent suggestion for one of my pieces.
        I would say that, essentially, the yearning of the father and the brokenness of the son are contiguous aspects of one phenomena.

  5. David Baker Avatar
    David Baker

    So we have a Prime Minister defending the Bible, and an Episcopalian provost attacking it?

    1. kelvin Avatar

      No, David Baker.

      I love the Bible and delight in it.

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