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 300th 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)