CHURCH FOR THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY – SOME REFLECTIONS by Rt Rev John McIntyre, Bishop of Gippsland

	These reflections are essentially personal reflections, on my part, arising out of my own Christian journey and the impact others have had on that journey in recent years. They reflect who I am and where I am in my journey with God. My concerns about how the church might be shaped into the twenty-first century are accordingly very personal, to some extent idiosyncratic, and maybe even a little eccentric. I offer them as a basis for ongoing dialogue on a matter I believe should be of concern to us all – how will the church continue to be an agent of the Gospel of Jesus Christ into the uncertain future we all face heading into the twenty-first century.
	What I am saying is that much of what I will say tonight is about me and my own journey of faith. This is not because I see myself to be particularly important, but because I believe the church has to confront the issue of how it enables or hinders the spiritual journey of any human being who seeks the wholeness I believe is found ultimately in and through Jesus Christ. As I reveal to you aspects of my journey of faith, my hope and prayer is that this will encourage you to consider your own journey of faith and how the church enables you, and more importantly anyone at all, to go on that journey.
	So I stand before you tonight in the first place simply as a human being, a fellow traveler on the journey towards human maturity, a journey which is primarily a spiritual journey. For what marks us out as uniquely human, and what we have in common with other human beings, is that enigmatic reality of human existence we call "spirit".
	I am not sure anyone has ever come up with a satisfactory definition of what we name as "spirit", but who is not aware of that indefinable "something" that seems essential to being authentically human, and that is more even than the sum of a person's intellect, emotion, will, training, learning, understanding or intuition? Take any number of human beings of more or less equivalent human capacities, in any human endeavour from sport to art, and sometimes we find ourselves distinguishing them on the basis of that indefinable "something" that marks out one group or one person. In such cases, we often say that the one more remarkable has more "spirit". Even if we are not sure how to define the term, then, we have no trouble in using it meaningfully. We recognize "spirit" as fundamental to our humanity. And we must surely recognise the nurture of the spirit as the essential component to growth into human maturity.
	As such, "spirit" and the quest for the spiritual life is a vital matter for reflection in any discussion of church in the twenty-first century. This quest binds us to every other human being on the face of the earth and gives us the space in which to engage on the journey towards the fullness of the maturity of our own humanity within the context of the whole human family. It is a universal endeavour. In this sense, we in the church are no different from anyone else, and we make a mistake if we separate ourselves from others on this point. We are all truth-seekers together.
	A church that does not recognize the spiritual journey as a universal task common to all humanity is a church not ready for the twenty-first century. Certainly there is a fascination with and openness to matters of the spirit today that enables us to engage with others in this common task, on the basis alone of our common humanity. This however requires humility on our part in the church. We need to be willing to listen as well as to speak, and we can claim no prerogative in discerning truth in such matters, a mistake the church has made for too long. In this common human quest we have much to offer but it must be done in dialogue and not by prescription, if we are to be heard.
	Secondly and I hope unsurprisingly, I stand before you tonight as a Christian human being. My understanding and interpretation of human existence is shaped and marked by my faith in Jesus Christ, of which I am unashamed. Though there is much about the assumptions of the Christianity that formed me of which I am rightly ashamed, and which I believe needs to be redressed in the church of the twenty-first century, of my faith in Jesus Christ I am unashamed.
	A church that is not centred on Jesus Christ has nothing to offer in any century, let alone the twenty-first century. Acknowledgement of the universality of the human quest for spiritual maturity is not a denial of the centrality of Jesus Christ for our understanding of the journey towards that maturity. At the same time, a church that does not acknowledge its need to grow beyond its limitations, weaknesses and misunderstandings is not ready for the twenty-first century either. There is much that needs to change in the church if the Spirit of Christ is to be followed into the future. Exposure to voices beyond our own experience and culture reveals our need to listen if we are to remain faithful to the call of Jesus in our day. Our arrogance must be abandoned.
	Thirdly, I stand before you tonight as an Evangelical Christian human being. I understand there are those who question my claim to such an association, but I do not. I admit to being concerned about the direction that Australian Evangelicalism seems to be taking as we embark upon the twenty-first century, but I still call myself "Evangelical". Nevertheless, I do not identify with what I see to be the abandonment of true Evangelicalism in this country, led by the dominant power-brokers of the Diocese of Sydney. There I sense a will-to-power within the institution of the church rather than a submission to one another out of reverence for Christ within the community of faith, which I take to be essential to the Christian journey of faith.
	True Evangelicalism, as I understand it, is committed to the truth of Scripture and emphasises the need for each person to make a personal commitment to Jesus Christ and his way in community together. It has a tradition of engagement with the world for the sake of Jesus Christ and consequently a strong emphasis on both evangelism and social justice. Those who lay sole claim to the name "Evangelical" and exclude people like me from their number do us all an injustice in their drive to gain political power in the life of the Australian Church, and even beyond it in the wider Anglican Communion. To be honest I am not sure what they are committed to, apart from their claim to be the sole arbiters of truth. Such party spirit cannot remain in the church if it is to have an impact for Christ into the twenty-first century. It simply turns people away.
	Fourthly, I stand before you as an Anglican Evangelical Christian human being. And if defining the term "spirit" is a difficult task, what can I say about defining the term "Anglican"? It would seem to me that the definition of what is "Anglican" is "what Anglicans do that is not inconsistent with what Anglican have done". In other words, what I value about Anglicanism is its flexibility and openness and its capacity for inclusion and change.
	From its beginnings, it seems to me, Anglicanism has sought to sideline those who would seek to dominate others, and to enable belonging across a wide spectrum of belief while affirming certain essentials. The Elizabethan Settlement proposed a commonality based on the Book of Common Prayer that could include both Catholic and Puritan without allowing either to control the whole. Richard Hooker's "Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity" lay a foundation for classical Anglican Theology in advocating a way forward based on Revelation, Reason and Tradition that sidelined in the English church both the Puritan claims to be the sole arbiters of truth and the Catholic attempts to return to Mediaevalism.
	Since its inception, the International Anglican Communion also has sought to continue in that same spirit of inclusion and commonality. The Lambeth Quadrilateral of Scripture, the Apostles' and Nicene Creeds; The Two Dominical Sacraments, and the Episcopate as the common basis of unity, and the emphasis on mutual loyalty rather than prescriptive demand, point us forward to a way of staying together into the twenty-first century that I believe we should value highly and work hard to preserve.
	At the same time, I recognize that Anglicanism's great strength is also its great weakness. The danger in insisting only on what is minimal as the basis of our unity, is that we run the risk of standing only for what is minimal. In this we stand to lose the cutting edge of the Gospel.
	It is from within this personal "quadrilateral" of my humanity, my Christianity, my Evangelicalism and my Anglicanism that I want now to offer my reflections on church in the twenty-first century, and what I believe to be its fundamental task which is to nurture the human spirit to its fullness in Jesus Christ.
	I begin with the Bible. There human spirit is not so much clearly defined as suggested by a story. In that story, the Creator who moves like wind over the waters, in an incredibly beautiful image of the intimate contact of lips, breathes spirit into a creature formed from the dust of the earth, whose destiny is to return to that dust. The breathing of breath or wind from the Creator Spirit into the mere creature of the earth transforms that being into "soul" and defines that creature's humanity and destiny as distinct from any other species. All species are created by the Creator but only one is "breathed" into this peculiar existence we call "human". As I have suggested, the story falls short of a precise definition but is replete with suggestion about human uniqueness. And the whole incident centres upon "spirit". It is within this Biblical tradition that I appeal to "spirit" as defining our humanity.
	If this is true, then fundamental to being human is the recognition and nurture of spirit. Ignore the human spirit, fail to nurture the human spirit, and the human is less than human. The wellspring of our humanity lies in spirit. Spirit ignored is humanity ignored. Spirit not nurtured is humanity devalued. On the other hand, spirit recognised and nurtured is the flowering of our humanity into our fullest potential to be human, and by implication, I think, to be humane.
	And spirituality is about the nurturing of spirit. So within my understanding it is the fundamental human enterprise, if indeed we are to be truly human. It is about realising our full human potential. It is about being authentically human. Nurturing spirit is therefore the fundamental task of the church in any age, not least the twenty-first century.
	Moving now to the Gospels, my current understanding of the Jew named Jesus is that he did not seek to establish a new religion at all. Rather, he sought to call the people of whom he was a part back to the true Spirit of their faith. This could be found only in a return to that initial intimate contact with the one who created them, in whom spiritual birth is affirmed and from whom alone comes spiritual nurture and growth.
	As Jesus understood it, the religious institutions of his day had lost authenticity and were damaging the spirit of the people by cutting them off from the source of human spirit, which is the Creator. He contended with the religious functionaries of his day simply because they prevented the people from access to the spiritual resources that should have been freely available to them. The Creator, as life-giver, was constantly reaching into their lives to maintain the intimacy of that first contact of breathing spirit into them but this was now being denied by religious form and its functionaries. Religion had become a legalistic burden laid upon the people for the benefit of those in power. The irony was that in so reducing religion to legal obligation, those in power not only denied the people access to the Creator but cut themselves off from this source as well. The life of the spirit was dried up and their humanity with it. Jesus came that the people might regain that life to the full, that the people might be authentically human.
	The means by which this was being made possible was alone by the grace of the Creator. In the same manner that humanity was first breathed with the Spirit, by choice alone of the Creator, so is the life of the Spirit to be regenerated and nourished.
	It was this emphasis on grace that the religious functionaries of Jesus' day found so hard to stomach. That all people had access to the Creator by grace undermined their power and privilege within the structures of religious form they had woven around true spirituality. Jesus, in epitomising the gracious ongoing desire of the Creator to maintain and further the intimacy of first contact with any and every human being, threatened those who had reduced religion to an institution of privilege for the few who deigned themselves as deserving of the title "holy". Clearly, he needed to be dealt with, and he was. He and those who chose to follow him were driven out of the prevailing religious system and so "Christianity" was born.
	It is this Jesus who is the primary source for a critique of church into the twenty-first century. I believe we must acknowledge that the same forces of religiosity that Jesus struggled against in his day have entered the church, and that there is a constant need for us to unravel the true spirit of faith from within the structures of religious form. All too often this needs to be done in conflict with the religious functionaries of our day who stand to benefit from maintaining their place within the religious systems of their own making. I acknowledge that I too, as a religious functionary, need to guard against that same impetus to take advantage of the religious observance of others rather than foster the search for authentic humanity of which the spiritual quest is comprised. So the task for the twentieth-first century church is defined.
	To continue my journey, then, I now direct you to other complementary sources for spiritual insight that have more recently presented themselves to me and caused me to contemplate the nature of the twenty-first century church. The first of these is that which my indigenous sisters and brothers have graciously given me. They have called me to renounce my embarrassment about things spiritual and to acknowledge the significance of place and belonging in spiritual growth. For them, the whole of life is spiritual and the land and the people of the land form the context in which spiritual growth takes place. They are unashamed about the spiritual life and adamant that spiritual growth cannot be disconnected from knowing your place in the land and among the people.
	What I had not fully appreciated before meeting Indigenous peoples was that the spiritual search is doomed to failure apart from the place and the people to whom I belong. Disembodied spirituality is an impossibility in Indigenous culture. Spirituality must be earthed in the land, the dust from which we were formed and it must be connected to the people to whom we belong. True spirituality is, in other words, formed within material and social existence not apart from it. To think that somehow I could realise a spiritual life in a material and social vacuum was a particularly Western rationalist, individualistic, disconnected lie to which I had fallen prey. The church for the twenty-first century must acknowledge the significance of place and belonging for which so many disembodied spirits long.
	The unpretentious simplicity of the everyday spiritual life of Australia's Indigenous peoples has humbled the arrogance of my spiritual pride and self-assured theological correctness on more than one occasion. I have them to thank for a return to what matters, intimate connection to the one they call "Creator Spirit" as an everyday experience. It is Creator Spirit that they commune with in and through the same Jesus I had known from my own traditions. From their traditions they have helped me to drink more of the life of the Spirit. I have them to thank for understanding that only as I find my place among the people of whom I am a part and in the place where I belong can I hope to find any measure of authenticity as a person, as spirit.
	This in turn has led me back into my own family traditions. I am of Anglo-Celtic origin. Like many non-Indigenous Australians, I lack a sense of the place or the people to whom I belong that has any significant standing in time or space. A recovery of an appreciation of my Celtic origins through its music, story, liturgy and spirituality has regenerated my spirit in lovely ways. It has given me a sense of place in the human community that being a white Australian, for all sorts of reasons, did not give me the resources to do.
	Not least among those reasons is the unacknowledged injustices we non-Indigenous peoples of this land have perpetrated against our Indigenous brothers and sisters and the ongoing injustices they continue to suffer. While we live in denial of this, how can we possibly hope to grow spiritually in this land? How can we possibly hope to belong here and to the future Australian community if we continue to live with the lie of this denial? It is little wonder we can find no compassionate way forward with new arrivals in this land, as evidenced so clearly in recent times, when we are so spiritually deprived by our denial of our injustices towards its' original inhabitants. Church in the twenty-first century will not grow until we redress these injustices, any more than the people of God to whom Isaiah spoke in the 6th Century BC could expect to grow while there was injustice in their land.
	The other element of Indigenous culture that is clearly consistent with Celtic culture is the inclusive and participatory way in which communities function and by which decisions that impact the life of the community are made. Elders are the wise who are called upon not so much to dictate direction but to draw together the mind of the people. All are encouraged to participate, all are listened to. Consensus is sought even if it takes time and the people are drawn along together rather than dragged from in front or pushed from behind. The true spirit of the people is nurtured in a context where each person is taken seriously. Leadership into the twenty-first century church must decry control and become permission giving. There is no place for hierarchy in the church.
	The second source for spirituality and insight into how the church should be in the twenty-first century to which I now turn is what women have taught me, most particularly those in the church who today still struggle for true recognition and inclusion. Here I must confess to my sins of some years ago for I am, in fact, a convert from among those who believe that woman are second rate human beings to now being something of a feminist, at least according to some. It was a very confrontational experience for me to realise that as a male I was part of an elite in the church that claimed superiority over women. Of course I never articulated it in that way, no more than those who continue the lie of this elitism would articulate it today. But that does not change the fact that I was part of that elite and could justify my elitism with high sounding words.
	The realisation that led me to convert from my former elitism with regard to women has been part of a journey to understanding that true spirituality lies in giving priority to anyone who is disadvantaged within the context that they find themselves. Women are disadvantaged within the structures of religious form in which I still participate. I can understand why so many have moved on to find affirmation in other contexts. For me to stay within those forms is a constant challenge not to be seduced by them.
	But women are not the only ones to be disadvantaged within the structures of institution in society today. To be authentically human I believe we all must give priority in our thinking, planning and acting to those disadvantaged within all forms of institution whether that be economic, legal, social or organisational. To deny anyone a place of full recognition in any context is to diminish our own spirit as much as to ignore their spirit. We still have a way to go in redressing this issue in the life of the twenty-first century church and if we do not complete the journey we will continue to disenfranchise many people from the wonders of the Gospel we have to proclaim.
	Women have also opened my eyes to the power of words or what some term the "dominant discourse" about any matter of discussion. This is no more apparent than in "God-talk" within the church. Women have certainly suffered in the church because men's tradition has chosen to use exclusively male language of the Creator. The dominant discourse of "God-talk" still dares to suggest that the one who is beyond gender is somehow male. This, by design or otherwise, has suggested a priority to male humanity and by implication, an inferiority to female humanity. Though vehemently denied by men, its impact in the church and within society at large in the West which has been formed by Christian religious institution, has been undeniable.
	My sisters have taught me that if I am to honour the Creator truly I must abandon exclusively male language in relation to discourse about the Creator. Even terms such as "Father", "Lord", when used exclusively, and certainly the use of personal male pronouns, even unwittingly, have contributed to the diminishing of women, even though they too are breathed with the very same spirit that gives life to all humanity. A church that is adequate for the twenty-first century must abandon exclusive male language of the Creator and its companion use of male terms to imply the whole of humankind. This is an unfinished task for the twenty-first century church.
	Another group who have taught me to listen more for the voice of the Spirit are those who are homosexual. We can no longer ignore the work of God among these our brothers and sisters in Christ, or worse, act as if they will simply disappear if we do ignore them. It is certainly a tragedy that their plight has become the current battleground of international Anglicanism, further alienating them from the community of faith.
	I believe that Anglican Evangelicalism in particular must find a way for inclusion of homosexual people in the life of the church of the twenty-first century. Even those who would contend that homosexuality is an aspect of human brokenness cannot argue on the grounds of that brokenness that homosexual people not be included in the life of the church. Are we not all broken? And is not the only thing we have to offer to God our brokenness? In what way are we any different to a homosexual person in this regard? Or to any other person? Does homosexuality affront our sensibilities any more than Peter's Jewish sensibilities were affronted when in a vision he is commanded to go to the Gentiles with the Gospel. And when the Spirit falls on those Gentiles is he not bound to include them in the people of God by baptism. How can we do less when the Spirit of God falls on people who are homosexual, despite any sensibilities we may have on the matter?
	I note that some suggest the real issue in the current fight within the Anglican Communion is not homosexuality but the authority of the Bible. This not only reduces those who are homosexual to a topic to be discussed rather than people to be listened to, but it is not entirely honest. Those in the Communion who speak in this way simply want their understanding of Scripture to prevail, and they are willing to sacrifice homosexual people's place among the people of God to their end of gaining control in the international Anglican Church. This is a struggle for power bringing together forces across the globe in a battle for dominance. It is the worst possible face the church can show to a world divided by its own battles for ascendancy in all manner of human affairs. The church of the twenty-first century, if it has anything to offer on world peace, must forsake the will-to-power on so-called "spiritual" matters and demonstrate true spiritual maturity in finding ways forward together in the grace of God and love of Christ, if we are to offer anything of wisdom in a world in conflict. Our response to homosexual people in our midst is a test case of our maturity in Christ and our capacity to overcome our prejudices
	The final complementary source that I will mention for a spirituality for the twenty-first century is my growing awareness of the traditions of critique in every major religion. I have recently come to hear of those within Islam and within Judaism who strive to express the universality of spirituality beyond the confines of the institutional structures of their respective religions. What has fascinated me about this is not that I have necessarily found complete agreement with the expressions of spirituality from these diverse traditions so different from my own, but that I have found a commonality in the desire to connect with others who truly seek a way forward in participating in authentic humanity, often in defiance of the strictures of the form of their religious structures and at odds with their religious functionaries. These people too are reacting against the exclusive tendencies of their own religious institutions in a manner that I believe to have some resonance with my reading of Jesus.
	What I am not on about here is a simplistic syncretism, as though all religions are somehow the same at some deeper level. However, that there are spiritual searchers in all religious traditions who want to move beyond the formularies of religious functionaries with vested interest in maintaining their religious institutions over against each other, does encourage and excite me. From within my tradition, centred on Jesus, I think I can relate to these others who seek truth and desire authentic humanity. Together we can explore what it means to be spirit. I do not see this as a denial of Jesus but as a trusting of the Creator I have come to know in and through Jesus. Dialogue with those of other religious traditions is accordingly a necessity for the twenty-first century church.
	Well, these are my reflections for the moment. They are certainly incomplete. I am certainly still on the journey. Much of my thinking is currently still inconclusive. But I do not doubt that we must all continue a critique of the church standing on the threshold of the twenty-first century that enables a spirituality for the twenty-first century to flourish. For me that critique must arise out of our experience of the Spirit of Christ discovered in our journey of faith, our spiritual journey. I believe that begins in intimate connection both with the one who created us and with the world in which we live, and goes on from there. I certainly continue to find those connections in Jesus, not so much the Jesus touted by much of religion but the Jesus who invites me graciously to recover authentic humanity by finding in and through him my place in the context of the world in which I live and among the people where I am found, for that is where I belong.
	In that place, the best I can do is to listen, to hear the breathing of the Creator in the cries of those disadvantaged by their context and in the lives of any who are seeking the truth of what it means to be spirit. I have found that often where I belong and to whom I belong will comes to me as a surprise and in places that I least expect it. I have found that I have been challenged to forego accustomed comforts and assumed certainties if I am to grow spiritually. My nurturing will not always be smooth. I have been confronted with that which dehumanises me and others and invited to affirm that which gives life to others and to me, to be converted that I might become a more authentic human being.
	In the journey of faith my hope is twofold. Firstly, that our spirit will be so nurtured that we become more human and more humane in meeting the challenges of each day that remains to us and those with whom we share life in the place where we are found. Secondly, that we will know a destiny beyond our own making or endeavour, that is not ours alone but in which we may by grace participate with the one who first breathed life into us and with all those in whom that life, the life of the Spirit, has been nurtured and come to fulfilment. That is my prayer for all of us.
	In the endeavour to critique the church leading into the twenty-first century, my hope is that together we will find an authentic expression of church that meets the demand of the moment to be God's people and to proclaim God's way in a world in growing need of spiritual maturity. Fundamentally, I believe the church in the twenty-first century needs to provide a place in which human beings are given the space to grow towards that spiritual maturity in Jesus Christ. The church must be accessible to all who crave the nurturing of the spirit basic to the flowering of our humanity. This will mean changes in every aspect of our existence as church, from the way we worship, through the way we relate to each other, and on to the way we engage in the life of the world. The key word for us is "Christ-like" and the humility and grace implicit in the life of Christ as we know it. The particular shape of church will vary according to the context in which it is found. The emphasis must be on permission-giving rather than control.
	I think we have a long way to go.

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