Love your minister

There weren’t that many of us at St James’s yesterday for the promised report from the Receptive Ecumenism team. Probably ten days before Christmas is not the best time to get busy people to a one-off event – even if it offers the possibility of fitting in some last-minute shopping in Newcastle and a glimpse of Fenwicks window. But, for those of us who turned up, it was a good day.

I admit to an interest: I have been a bit involved with the project over the four or five years that it’s been running. Paul Murray rather exaggerated my contribution to its birth in his opening remarks;  but from my far-off student days when transactional analysis was all the rage I still remember being told that “we all need our strokes”. It’s always good to be appreciated.

Which was one of the thoughts that was somewhere around when the leadership survey report was presented by Tom Redman (like Paul, a Durham professor – we were in pretty high-powered company). Some 184 of church members in our synod had gallantly filled in a questionnaire about their attitudes to their minister; and though plenty of questions were raised about the methodology, there was no reason to dispute the general conclusion that the “performance” value of church members is heavily dependent on the style of the minister’s leadership.  And the number-crunching of every section of the questions revealed appreciation for the minister’s “servant leadership”.

I was thinking about this this morning when an e-Christmas card made its way into my inbox. You may have received the same one yourself: Linda and Gill at Church House are appreciative of what we have done to support and advocate Commitment for Life over the past year, and are looking forward to celebrating the 20^th anniversary in 2012.  I clicked on the link – and while not over-impressed (sorry Gill!) by the schmaltzy music and snow scene I find myself fascinated by the site: you can send a FREE CHRISTIAN ECARD (choice of design) for nearly every holiday and every occasion imaginable.

As well as Christmas and Hannukah and Chinese New Year(why would they be Christian ecards?) there’s Patriot Day, Boss Day, Reformation Day, Teacher’s Day and St Patrick’s Day – among many others. But the two that caught my eye were Clergy Appreciation Day and Ministry Appreciation Month.  Perhaps in the next few days I should send to all my not-yet-retired colleagues the one with the sleeping dog that says “take it easy....”  But you might choose the tasteful water lily that simply says “thank you” – or if you’re more effusive you might even chance “You’re a great pastor! Your hard work and sacrifice are appreciated!”  Or where appropriate, you can choose from two designs that proclaim “Woman of God,  God Bless you for your ministry” – though to my mind the soft focus and white dress on one of them border on what we now call “inappropriate”.

Receptive ecumenism, as the name implies, is about discovering what we can receive from others, rather than concentrating on the gifts that we have to bring ourselves. I’ve always been uneasy about that non-gospel saying of our Lord’s, that it is more blessed to give than to receive, because in my own experience most of the people I’ve worked with in the Church find receiving far harder than giving. Of course, as perhaps Fenwicks window and the John Lewis advert remind us, both giving and receiving are needed to complete any transaction – and blessedness is to be found when both are undertaken in the right spirit.

Whether or not they receive the appropriate e-cards, I hope that my colleagues who couldn’t get to St James’s yesterday will know that their ministry is appreciated. And if they haven’t yet filled in the admittedly difficult questionnaire that they were asked to complete about attitudes to their church leader – yes, we know that moderators are different, and the questions don’t easily match our ecclesiology – the Receptive Ecumenism team would be very grateful to receive their late entries.

 John Durell

Dying to live -- Vision 2020 Northern Synod

The group remaining in the Church at the Synod at Wideopen commented on the Northern Synod Strategy. They had both supportive and negative comments to share. Whilst the Plan was accepted in principle it was agreed that Mission Executive needed to do some additional work to make it more acceptable to the majority.

It would be helpful to hear where the tweaking/rewriting needs to be done to make it more universally acceptable to our churches. You will recall that there is no requirement to adopt the whole approach - some churches will want to focus on just one or two themes   to re-energise mission in their communities.

Some of the comments from the floor may be useful in helping people suggest where a different wording or approach may be required:

• Felt inspired by the ideas and felt there was plenty in the documentation to attract churches wanting to find something to re-energise themselves
• Whilst unwilling to wholeheartedly endorse the approach it was suggested that whilst it would not change the world it looked a very worthwhile exercise for churches to undertake.
• Several people felt that Elderships were ageing and their energies were already focused on day-to-day church matters.  They felt they could not cope with anything new.
• Concern that LMMR which might help Churches review their positions and plan for the future with support from others wasn’t yet off the ground and there was scepticism that sufficient other support would be available.
• Some showed impatience with yet another initiative .Don't fiddle whilst Rome burns. ! Do things!  Have faith but do things now!
• The statements in the document help people to think clearly -- they provide signposts and are therefore helpful.
• Dying to Live isn’t a good name.  Generally people will not connect with the concept and therefore it will have negative connotations with many church members.
• A feeling that the church is not using its financial resources well.  Churches in vacancy are paying considerable sums in M& M. and pulpit fees.  This money might be better used by those churches to further their local mission ambitions.
• We have to focus on growth otherwise we will die!
• Ecumenism just obscures falling membership -- Growth in the URC is the key. But how?
• Concerns  that we may have a ” Bishop- led synod” -- give ministers the opportunity to address the problems of falling congregations in a collegial way.  Give them their head!
• This is another initiative which glosses over problems -- we need people on the ground to develop mission opportunities which might fuel church growth.

HELP US TO SHAPE A DOCUMENT WHICH REFLECTS YOUR THOUGHTS & CONCERNS. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Sue Bush

Member- Mission Executive

Reformed or dissenting?

I’ve been thinking the past week about “Reformed identity”.  I went to Synod determined to keep quiet (except when asked to speak) and enjoy retirement in the pews – but just because you don’t have a vote and a role to play doesn’t mean you don’t feel for people.

Wasn’t it a bit rough, after all the work that had been put into sharpening Vision2020 for Northern Synod, for it all to be put on hold? I can see that the document we were given had its shortcomings, but its authors seemed  ready to listen and to amend it. If you’ve been working hard on something like this, having it sent back must seem discouraging. Hardly the way for us to get the best out of people!

The most focused criticism I heard was over this issue of identity: that while we say plenty in general terms about needing to know who we are, we need to be more specific about being Reformed. But I wonder how much the members of synod gathered at Wideopen could have told us about what Reformed identity means to them. I’ve never been too sure what it is: if it has to do with the Bible at the centre of everything, and valuing a learned ministry – well, we’re mostly using the same lectionary week by week as the other Churches around us, and their preachers and  worship leaders (not noticeably less educated than ours) will be relying on the same resources as we all do.

Either we’ve lost what is distinctively Reformed, or we’ve valued it and commended it so well that it’s somehow found its way into all the Churches. Or perhaps a bit of both?

There are other aspects of our identity, though, that we seem to forget about altogether. 1662 had just the briefest of mentions last Saturday – a single line in one of the written reports, vainly hoping that someone might notice the date next year. Fifty years ago when we were celebrating the 300^th anniversary of the Great Ejectment (which now seems to have been domesticated to the Great Ejection), I don’t recall any concern about Reformed identity, but plenty of discussion about what it meant to be a Dissenter.

Granted that things have moved on (fifty years ago we couldn’t even receive communion in parish churches, though ironically our forebears had suffered for choosing not to), and granted that taking a stand on simply being against something or being different sounds far meaner than taking pride in being Reformed,  I fear we are missing out on a very significant part of our identity by neglecting this historic perspective.

Congregationalist and Presbyterians, good Reformed church people, wanted to be part of a Reformed Church of England, but in all conscience felt that they could not sign up to the settlement of 1662. And they paid the price for their non-conformity. I suspect that for many of us, if we’ve thought about it at all, there will be rather different issues today that would make it difficult to throw in our lot with the established Church – but I at least would not want to accuse my Anglican brothers and sisters of being insufficiently Reformed. And I’m sure there’s more than enough variety of practice and opinion to suit God’s good purposes in both our camps.

Meanwhile, if the poor Mission Executive members now have to reflect on our Reformed identity, could they also spare a thought on what it might mean today to be a Dissenter?

John Durell

(former synod clerk and ecumenical officer)

Mozambique Blog 12

Bongani is one year old. His name means Thank you – clearly appropriate as his parents waited seven years for him.

This afternoon we went to his birthday party. Hillian’s first day here in Maputo was spent at one family’s celebrations; now on our last day we’ve shared in another’s. The venue was a kindergarten in an upmarket area of the city. Just like home, there were rows of balloons on the railings outside, in case we were uncertain where to go. But the bouncy castle in front of the building gave the game away really.

Round the back was the party proper. Small tables were laid ready for some sixty children, while probably more than that number of adults were sitting at bigger tables and getting ready to tuck into the serious food. Bongani’s grandparents, who had invited us, explained that while the size of African families prevents everyone attending everyone’s birthday celebrations every year, for special birthdays like this one everyone comes together.

Sadly we had to leave before the cake was cut. Or rather cakes – there seemed to be several of them, nestling beneath rainbow arches of balloons. But our afternoon had a more serious purpose – we were due at the third English language service at Khovo. We knew attendance was going to be small, as there were many things on in the church this weekend; but the faithful few who were there have promised us that the service will continue. And their gratitude was expressed in the traditional way – well with a bit of twist. Hillian has another kapulana, but I am now the proud owner of a Mandela-style African shirt.

So that’s the last of the last things to do. It's just a case now of a bit of a debriefing session at Khovo in the morning before going off to the airport for the mid afternoon flight. I’m not sure what I will be expected to say then, or indeed what I will want to say. I think we need time to stand back from the experience and reflect on it – both in terms of what it has meant for us personally, and what we can draw from it to strengthen our two Churches.

That’s hardly blogging material – so I think it is time to sign off this Mozambique blog. Thanks for following!

John Durell

Mozambique blog 11

Yesterday, as some of our students would say, we were biz. Portuguese seems easily to lose the ends of words: greetings in the latter part of the day are usually heard as boa tard and boa noit without the final e. So at Khovo we are often told that our students have been too biz to come to the lesson; and knowing that we too are biz people make frequent offers of coff to see us through the day.

Apart from working on this Sunday’s service, yesterday we had a session with Ernesto looking at how to develop prayer partnerships with our Synod, and also were part of the lunchtime celebrations to mark the opening of the Sewing Project – which I will write up separately for the main part of the website. But for Hillian and me the main event was our final English lesson.

We’ve been offering these lessons for less than five weeks – one group in the morning and one in the afternoon.  So the perfect attender (and I think there may be just one or two) will not have spent much more than twenty hours with us: hardly doing more than scraping the surface. All our students have been workers at Khovo, the Church HQ, or somehow or other attached to it, and they have ranged in age from early twenties up to sixty. Everyone has had some English already – but needless to say (and a challenge to the teachers) these have been very much mixed ability classes.

When I began (a few days before Hillian joined me) the first shock was the formality of the setting, which was matched by the students’ expectations. The small classroom was set out with desks – those very old fashioned ones with chairs attached, so that there was absolutely no chance of moving the furniture round and sitting in a circle. Not that they would have wanted that. When I started the lesson by trying what I hopefully imagined was the Berlitz method of direct conversation, I was shouted down: everything was to be written in chalk on the blackboard!

But somehow we have slotted into the system. We’ve gone through the auxiliary verbs, to be and to have and all the rest of them ad nauseam.  I love doing the past simple of “to have” and saying to them “Isn’t English easy?” We’ve struggled over the days of the week: Portugal seems to have been the most Christian of nations, dismissing all heathen gods from its calendar, with the result that between domingo and sabado come days 2 to 6. We’ve tried to explain that though this may make it difficult for the students to learn a set of names, it is also difficult for the teachers to have to count up on their fingers to work out just what day it is in Portuguese.

Somehow, despite the rows of desks and the chalk and the blackboard, not to mention the sheer impossibility of the subject, we’ve had a lot of fun together. I’m not sure how much this is a different experience for our students, but I suspect we are really supposed to sit on a chair behind the teacher’s table rather than walk around the room and sit on the desks and generally make fools of ourselves acting some of the concepts out. I hope it’s been a refreshing experience for them all: at any rate, with a few exceptions they’ve continued to come. They’ve struggled with irregular verbs and inconsistent pronunciation and our inadequate explanations of when to use the perfect tense rather than the past simple. They may not have been as diligent as they could have been in working at it between lessons: but who am I to talk? I sort of worked my way halfway through Learn Portuguese in 13 Weeks, and yet haven’t dared to speak a word beyond “Estou bem, obrigado.”

And yesterday we were more than a little touched by the things said at the “Bye-bye session” – by the traditional gifts of kapulanas, and by the solemn assurances that they would follow Hillian’s advice and speak a little English to each other every day. Practise, practise, practise!

For people in Mozambique, of course, there is a real pressure to learn English which is much greater than our need while here to speak Portuguese. They are painfully aware that their country is effectively a Portuguese speaking island set in a sea of English: every surrounding nation has a British imperial history, all the way from South Africa up to Tanzania; and English is the unifying language spoken right across Southern Africa. Significantly Mozambique was the first nation that had not been part of the Empire to join the Commonwealth. In this post-colonial age, it is clear where it needs to belong.

But things are not easy for people like our students. Here in Maputo everyone speaks Portuguese, but that is far from being the case across the country. So there is need to reinforce Portuguese as the nation’s own unifying language, before ever turning to another European tongue. Most families speak local languages, such as Ronga or Shangana, at home; and it is only on starting school that children study Portuguese seriously, so that it becomes the language in which their whole education is offered. So by the time they are of secondary school age they will have had to become fluent in two languages before ever tackling English. It’s become clear to us that, not surprisingly, the quality of English teaching in schools can vary considerably; but even the best is not likely to bring the pupil to fluency before school days are over. No surprise then that there are English language schools all over the city. And the pastor who told me that he is taking English language lessons with a view to studying theology at a higher level is no doubt typical of people in all sorts of professions.

So we sadly said Goodbye to our students yesterday with all these thoughts in mind. They know that they need English, but they are realistic enough to know that they are not all going to reach the level of competence that they might wish. I would have liked to have done more to help them – but we did what we could in the time that we had. I hope that they will remember us as fondly as we will them.

John Durell

Mozambique Blog 10

I’ve never properly found out how the Presbyterian Church of Mozambique got its name.  Bearing in mind that its roots go back to the Swiss Mission (the 125^th anniversary of its work will be commemorated in 2012), we might have expected this French-speaking organisation to have given birth to a Church that wore the epithet Reformed, rather than Presbyterian. When I’ve asked in the past about this, I’ve been given the answer that it may just be to do with the proximity of English-speaking missionaries in the late 19^th century whose work in South African will have overlapped with the Swiss. But I also wonder if the Founding Fathers may have cottoned on to the fact that the Portuguese word reformado also means retired – perhaps not quite the way you want to describe a Church that seeks to become a force in the land. (But I guess it makes me reformado squared.)

Today I’ve been asking just how Presbyterian the IPM really is. I don’t have any ecclesiological reference books at hand, but the Wikipedia article on Presbyterian polity seems to me to have the right idea when it contrasts its subject with the Congregational way, and makes the point that “authority in the presbyterian polity flows both from the top down (as higher assemblies exercise limited but important authority over individual congregations, e.g. only the presbytery can ordain ministers, install pastors, and start up, close, and approve relocating a congregation) and from the bottom up (e.g. the moderator and officers are not appointed from above but are rather elected by and from among the members of the assembly).” Many of us would be wary of this top and bottom language, but we would still expect constraints on any local church that chooses to go its own way.

We were taken this morning on a Synod Pastoral Visit to Moamba, near the South African border. The church there, which is literally the wrong side of the tracks, has been struggling since the 1920s: it can’t afford to pay for a minister, and indeed has nowhere to house a minister, so the only ministry it receives is from a poor pastor who lives 50 Km away and makes his living through secular employment. His commitment is strictly Sundays-only. Your heart goes out to such people – and wonderfully they remain faithful and full of hope. All of which is being  expressed now in their plans to build a new church.

We crossed the tracks just as the train for Johannesburg drew in – but all the coming and going was on the side we had left. Another ten minutes’ walk through a very poor area brought us to a large open space, which our hosts proudly told us was all theirs. On one edge was a half built house which hardly looked the work of professional builders, while over the far side was the poor corrugated iron building that is hardly fit to function as a place of worship. Next to it were the foundation blocks of what is being designed as a substantial building. And with the visit, I should add, came an invitation to return and lay the foundation stone on November 6^th!

My heart sank at the sight of it all, because over my visits to Mozambique I have seen so many half-and-less-built buildings. A Church that knows its Bible well seems never to have reflected on Luke 14.28. Shouldn’t its people first sit down and calculate what they are capable of? Time and time again work is begun on projects for which there is no budget, no intention of ever using competent and professional labour, and which will use up all the resources that might have otherwise gone towards, for instance, costs of ministry and evangelism. All of this is being decided by local congregations, who leave no prospect of any kind of national strategy for development and mission.

Talking with the Synod visitors afterwards I sensed a degree of frustration on their part – and maybe bemusement that Presbyterian polity should have led to such a situation. They cited instances of building projects that have taken 15 or 20 years – and I suspect know of others that have simply no hope of completion. Yet on the other hand, who can disparage the faith of those who laugh at impossibilities, and cry it will be done? I don’t think I’ll be around Moamba on November 6^th, and I can’t help feeling sceptical about the whole project, but I’d love to think that one day someone from Northern Synod will attend the grand opening of its new Presbyterian Church!

_________________

Crossing back I got into trouble (or at least got my Mozambican minders in trouble) by pointing my camera at the station. Apparently special permission is needed. But the story of the footbridge is worth retelling. It carefully crosses from the central platform to the right (Portuguese colonialist) side of the tracks – but there is no footbridge crossing to the side we had been walking through. People there didn’t really count as people. “About as bad as apartheid South Africa?” I suggested.  My hosts agreed – there was little to choose between them.

John Durell

Mozambique Blog 9

Never mind the stereotypes – the truth of the matter is that most things do work in Mozambique, or at least here in Maputo. While we’ve been here the few power cuts have scarcely lasted a minute. The expresso machine may have been broken in the café in the park, but they rustled up a surprisingly acceptable alternative. True you will often find taps from which no water seems to run – but once the householder is able to install the right system of storage tanks and pumps that problem can be overcome.

Of course there is the terrible problem of transport – one of the chief problems of the country, I guess. Just look at the crowds waiting for buses in the rush-hour, or look at the traffic jams that witness to the fact that the increasing level of car ownership is hardly getting anyone anywhere more quickly, and it may seem that my assessment is over-generous. But by and large things do work.

So I was more than a little disappointed when we moved into the guest house to find that for all the promise of free wifi I was unable to get on-line. What’s more, despite my gentle protestations, no one appeared to be doing anything to resolve the situation. But so what? – we’re in Mozambique. However, it seems that I was wrong. Suddenly, this weekend, I’m back on-line without any trips to the internet café. Someone was trying to get it fixed after all – and in the end they succeeded.

So for the first time in the nearly six weeks I’ve been here, I could start a proper blog – real stream of consciousness stuff rather than the considered and pre-prepared pieces I’ve been putting up every few days. But I think it’s too late now. However, for anyone who’s followed me so far, here’s a brief account of what’s been going on over the past few days.

Last weekend was dominated by the news that the projected visit by Mozambican young people to Northern Synod is off: once again the High Commission has refused visas, and frustratingly the applications went in so late that there is no time for any kind of appeal. So now we are wondering how we can learn from what has happened and find ways of getting a better result in the future.

So far as Hillian and I were concerned, the big event was the launch of the English language service, which I wrote about later in the week – but also we should record the fact that we had a little holiday. Our friend Inãcio came to Maputo looking for us, and after the Sunday afternoon service whisked us back to Xai-Xai in Gaza province for a couple of days. Inãcio was one of the first visitors to our synod back in 2004 – some may remember him as the guy who was videoing everything. When our group visited Mozambique a few weeks later we spent time in Xai-Xai, and were royally entertained by Inãcio and Estrela one evening – and ever since then they have been waiting for us to return.

We had a great time with them – and even though they were both busy working, they arranged a programme for us which managed to be both relaxing and instructive. It was good too to meet up with Meg Robb, halfway through her stint with Pastor Rosa at the Betlehem church – and Inãcio’s programme gave Meg opportunity to see more of the area than she might otherwise have done. So as well as enjoying lunch together on Xai-Xai beach and mooching round the central market (larger and yet more colourful than Maputo’s), we learned a good deal about the education system through a visit to an FE College equivalent, and had a fascinating insight into Mozambique’s provision of labour for the South African mines from Inãcio’s own boss.

It all went by too quickly, but duty beckoned – and Wednesday morning we were back in the classroom with our students. Now our final week lies before us, and somehow we are going to have to try to answer our students’ questions about the conditional tense, and how you know whether to use a simple past or the perfect, not to mention the other impossible things they will probably dream up in the next few days.

And then there is “our” final English language service next Sunday: and what will happen after that? Will the pastors on the ground pick it up and run with it? Doubting whether they will would, I suppose, betray a colonialist attitude, so I’m going to say “Of course the service will continue.” Remember, things do work in Mozambique.

John Durell