Tuesday, December 07, 2010

The Anglican Church League

In his book The Chosen Ones – The Politics of Salvation in the Anglican Church journalist Chris McGillion paints a somewhat unflattering picture of the inner workings of the diocese of Sydney over the 1993-2001 period. Crafted chiefly from interviews with some of the protagonists, it is a story of manoeuvrings, tactics, parties and vote-counting. Some of those interviewed seemed, like old war heroes, to relish the chance to recount the cut-and-thrust of those days – oblivious to the interviewer’s distaste, which he assumes that his implied reader will share. McGillion’s thesis is that the Sydney Anglicans who came to power in those years had a belief that they were ‘the chosen ones’ – and that this justified to them the use of nakedly political means in the godly cause to which they had been called. From McGillion’s point of view, politics is an ugly business even when it pursues apparently holy ends. His subjects did not seem to share this embarrassment. It is this clash of perspectives that makes the book an intriguing read.

The subject of ecclesiastical politics is frequently associated with Sydney Anglicans, not because they invented it, but because they have been remarkably good at it. The refined disdain for the political aspect of church life is a luxury afforded those to whom power naturally tends to accrue. Like all human institutions, churches need a decision-making process. As a body politic, it has bodily-political functions that need attending to. It is not an unspiritual thing to seek to manage these as effectively as possible, however crass it might seem to those of more sophisticated palate. Sometimes it is a messy and complicated business – a process that presents unenviable choices and imperfect solutions.

That being said, success in the process has perhaps obscured the consideration of the possibility that the process itself might be deeply flawed and could be reformed. As has been frequently pointed out, synods as they are presently constituted have far too many members to be an efficient chamber of debate and discussion and are inevitably dominated by lawyers and those of a political disposition. Sydney Anglicans have twice as many representatives in their synod than the Australian people do in their parliament! Inevitably, with such an unwieldy process the distribution of power and the mutual accountability that a democratic process is meant to ensure becomes concentrated in the hands of smaller committees. And it almost requires the development of a group whose history is inextricably linked to the history of the Sydney diocese: the Anglican Church League.

The Australian form of Anglicanism has a long history of embracing synodical government. Without the deeply embedded alliance with the Crown and the Parliament to help it, as was the case in England, the Australian church had to find a way to order its own affairs. In fact, as Tom Frame writes ‘[T]he Australian Church led the Anglican Communion in its embrace of synodical government’. The word ‘synod’ emerges from a Greek word sunodos, which means ‘assembly’ or ‘meeting’. There being no prescribed method of decision-making for churches in the New Testament, synods have varied enormously in size, task and process over the two millennia of church history. In the Church of England, synods had a rather peripheral role given that the church was governed by Royal Supremacy via parliament and the convocation of bishops. The colonials, for their part, wanted an arrangement which ensured the more direct involvement of the laity in parallel with the secular parliaments. This meant that synods have largely adopted the parliamentary processes and legal mechanisms of the British parliament. From 1872 there was a national, ‘General’ Synod and corresponding diocesan synods. Given the great distances involved in most Australian diocese, the diocesan synod became in many places the most significant opportunity for clergy and laity to share fellowship.

Sydney’s synod was first convened in 1866 by Bishop Barker (dates). The sessions were lengthy, and demanded a high level of competence from its participants. Whereas before the bishop relied somewhat informally on carefully chosen lay and clerical advisors in order to make decisions, now this gathering of high-powered laity and clergy had its own decision making function. As the historians of the Sydney diocese, Judd and Cable write: ‘by the end of Barker’s episcopate, synod had emerged in an effective form as the focus of the diocese’.

In these early years the synod needed to set the affairs of the diocese in order. The parliamentarians, lawyers and landowners that held positions on synod ensured that proper standing orders were introduced, the financial arrangements of the diocese established and a standing committee appointed. For clergy, the rise of the synod meant that they were no longer vulnerable to the whims of their bishop. There was now a system of nominations and a degree of professional security. Theological and social issues did not arise and were not debated – there was not initially a sense that there were mutually incompatible theological visions that would need to assert themselves in this forum.

Up until the 1890s, it was still however the case that the synod tended to see itself as chiefly supportive of the bishop in his management of the diocese. In 1897, the Standing Committee was granted authority to act ‘without prior reference to the full synod’. The rate of legislation increased and indicated that the exclusive power of the bishop over his diocese was certainly at an end.

The emergence of party groupings in the synod can be dated to this period. Becoming a busier legislative chamber inevitably led to divisions just because of the adversarial nature of the process, with winners and losers. In 1886 the Church of England Association, a lay organisation, was formed. The Association’s stated aim was to prevent the advance of ritualism in the church; and it proved to be successful in achieving this end. Throughout the 1890s other political groupings emerged representing the Anglo-Catholics, High Churchmen and others. It was the Protestant Church of England Union, an evangelical alliance, which emerged as the strongest group in the diocese by the turn of the century. The Union was determined to stop Anglo-Catholic practices and pressured the Archbishop to act on their behalf against the introduction of Eucharistic vestments....

10 comments:

Carson T Clark said...

Michael,

Hello and good afternoon. I stumbled across your blog while I was clicking around the internet. Good stuff. I look forward to reading it in the future.

Hope you don't mind, but I wanted to tell you about my own blog. I'm an aspiring clergy-writer who's new to the Anglican tradition, and am trying to find Anglican readers. The title of my blog is "Musings of a Hard-Lining Moderate: The assorted thoughts of an evangelical Anglican."

I write about theology, history, culture, politics, movie/book reviews, pet theories... anything that’s on my mind. Right now I'm doing a series on the doctrine of Scripture, which was prompted by the crisis in the global communion. I also recently wrote a post on the value of the christian calendar.

Anyway, I don't know if you'd be interested, but here's the link: http://bit.ly/dXh2qd. Have a great day.

Grace & Peace,

Carson

Unknown said...

I will never forget (and have often retold the story of) the lunchtime when I sat next to one Peter Jensen at the 'high table' in the Moore College dining room early in 1993 and he asked me what I, as a 'pom' student new to the college, thought of the course.

My reply was that it was very good, but that, having just been the perceived victim of a certain amount of church politicking back home, it might be good if the practical side of the fourth year included an introduction to church politics.

"Let me tell you about church politics, brother," was his response, and he proceeded to detail how, for the past several decades, the Anglican Church League had proceeded to sew up the diocese of Sydney politically.

At first, I was completely horrified. How could Christians possibly be so ruthless?

But the longer he spoke, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized this was the only way to do things, and that anything less, far from being gentlemanly, was guaranteed to lose. Furthermore, it indicated that one didn't really believe in one's own cause - and if that were the case, one shouldn't be involved in the politics at all.

Indeed, it also struck me that this was a key difference in the Australian and the English psyches, and one reason why Australia produced winning cricket teams, whilst we didn't (this was 1993, the year of Gatting and Warne, remember). We produced 'gentlemen', they produced 'players'.

Since then, I have taken the view that if Christians are to do church politics they must do it ruthlessly, even whilst they are charitable in the process (a difficult balance!).

But to do politics half-heartedly is worse than not doing it all, since you are part of the system, but not really changing the system.

As you rightly say, Michael, "The refined disdain for the political aspect of church life is a luxury afforded those to whom power naturally tends to accrue."

That sums up England in a nutshell, where Evangelicals are numerically in the ascendant and yet where the governance of the Church remains fundamentally Liberal-Catholic in flavour. It is not that church politics by the Evangelicals has failed here. It is that it has never really been tried.

David Chislett said...

Ten years ago I wrote an article for New Directions on this very subject, and will one day bring it up to date. In it I pointed to the old boast of Australian Anglican bishops outside the Diocese of Sydney that we had been spared the organised "parties" that dominated the Church of England. I also said that the greatest compliment that could be given to a priest or bishop upon retirement or death was that "he was no party man". This attitude is reflected in Chris McGillion’s book.

And yet we all know that every diocese - and the General Synod itself - has back room operators who stitch up what they see as necessary deals and compromises. At least in some places they seem to retain their power by encouraging devout clergy and laity to believe that getting involved in the political processes of the diocese or the church is an unworthy activity for spiritually minded people, with the result that the very people whose doctrinal orthodoxy and prayerful insights might have made a positive difference to church life never get to influence decisions, elections or appointments. They are conned into saying their prayers, "leaving it up to the Holy Spirit", and then allowing the back room operators to have their way unhindered, in spite of the biblical injunctions to be as "wise as serpents and harmless as doves", to "earnestly contend for the Faith once delivered to the saints", and to watch out for the "wolves in sheep's' clothing"!

My article pointed out that the conspicuous exception to this is the Diocese of Sydney and in particular the "Anglican Church League" which has usually been "up front" in its activities and politicking, and unashamedly skilful in publicly using the synodical processes to achieve its own ends. My personal friendships over the years (as an anglo-catholic) with some of those involved persuade me that they have sincerely tried to be at the same time godly, principled and politically astute.

There was also a short period in the life of the "prayer book catholic" Diocese of Adelaide when an organised party tried to prevent the growth of theological liberalism within the diocese. The "Union of Anglican Catholic Priests", under John Fleming’s leadership was a force to be reckoned with from the mid 1970's to the mid 1980's, the first ten years of Keith Rayner's episcopate. The Union, while not containing an absolute majority of the Adelaide clergy, exercised an influence far wider than its membership, so that for some years its support was needed for any substantial measure to pass in the Adelaide Synod. In the end, however, due to the determination – and many would say brutality – of diocesan policy, the belief grew that one way or another it would be impossible for orthodox catholics to survive in the Diocese of Adelaide. Members drifted over the years to the Roman Catholic Church, to Continuing Anglicanism, and in some cases to smaller country dioceses.

David Chislett

David Chislett said...

Part 2

Of course, in Australia, as in other parts of the Anglican world, liberals who sanctimoniously eschew “parties” in the church often network among themselves in as co-ordinated (and ruthless) a manner as any party has ever done.

After giving examples of this, my article went on to describe a short lived attempt of evangelicals and anglo-catholics in Brisbane to form an alliance that would work for a more Christ-centred and gospel-focused Diocese, seeking to influence appointments and elections in the Diocese in spite of the more subtle politicking of the theologically liberal "non-party" party.

In a notable address to the group, the Rev'd Hugh Begbie made the point that evangelicals and anglo-catholics had come together because of a common concern to see God's work done in the diocese. Referring to John 6, he emphasised that doing God's work means to believe in God and Jesus whom he has sent. So, our concern is to try and re-focus our church on Christ. This is, he said, a noble aim, and it does involve political activity, for politics is just the name given to the way we organize our lives and relationships. Individually and as a group we have the right, he said, in a free society and in an "open" church, to try and persuade others that we are right, that what we believe is true.

Hugh spoke of pitfalls that face people involved in church politics: the temptation to play down the claims of Jesus' in order to be respected by others; being driven by false motives - wanting revenge on those who have hurt us in the past - or even because we find pleasure in the political process itself; being provocative every time we open our mouths. The nature of the battle often makes us do this. We must be provocative and challenging, but only on the things that really matter.

This is wise counsel indeed. All who seek to take on the "non-party" party effectively and with integrity need to heed Hugh’s advice.

David Chislett

spicksandspecks said...

Coming from Melbourne, I'm interested in your thoughts on evangelical political movements where evangelicals are in the minority. What prompts this question is my perception (which may be wrong), that when Peter Watson was archbishop (an evangelical from Sydney, no less), evangelicals didn't really seem to press home the advantage in terms of promting a gospel agenda throughout the diocese or getting evangelicals into key positions. In dioceses like Melbourne, things always have to be "balanced" between the different groupings, so no-one ever gets anywhere. In addition, because there are fewer evangelical parishes, the ministers are usually "too busy with the parish" to put serious effort into political activities.

Just on the Ugley Vicar's comments about the ACL being the only way to do church politics, you might want to ask Bishop Rob Forsyth (as staunch an evangelical as they come) how he feels about them. The character assassination they performed on him during the archbishop's election was appalling. On occasion, to us Mexicans south of the border, the ACL can look as ruthless towards their own as they are to non- evangelicals.

Andrew Reid

Unknown said...

Andrew, I wouldn't want to (and didn't) say that everything the ACL does is right - any more than I think the Australian practice of 'sledging' is good sportsmanship, just because it has come from great cricketers. Au contraire.

But I do think that politics, which is an inevitable feature of human life, needs to be done with commitment and wisdom.

In England we have generally lacked both amongst evangelicals, and in the end it actually betrays the gospel.

Bruce Yabsley said...

John I'd suggest that another difference between the two places might be in the level of interest in ethics: I mean in ethics as a category, and in reflectiveness about the subject, rather than in whether people are "moral" or well-motivated.

I can't speak for the UK, or for what Sydney looks like from the outside --- you might want to comment --- but from the inside I would say that the culture of Sydney generally is ethically unsophisticated, and the church largely shares this. And while you or I might casually use "ruthless" in conversation to mean oriented-towards-effectiveness and calculating-concerning-outcomes and so on, without really also meaning contemptuous-of-scruples or indifferent-towards-harm-caused-to-others, this is not just how politics is practiced in this town ... lots of people seem to believe that it can only ever be practiced in this way. "Ruthless" really does mean ruthless.

To the pure, all things are pure. Around here, I would have classed an apology for politicking as morally perilous ...

michael jensen said...

@thanks to all for the fascinating comments.

I am beetling away at a mini theological rationale for church politicking at the present. Politicking is, as David Chislett points out, unavoidable.

But, with Bruce I sense there has to be a better way. The city of God and the city of man ought to be different in this, surely... So the question is not whether church politicking should or shouldn't be done. It is, and it will be. The question is rather: how can it be done Christianly?

Philip Pogson said...

The challenge with any kind of political process is that underpinning or driving the politics are always a set of assumptions or beliefs. Some of these beliefs are articulated, some not. Some are discussed or revealed publicly, others remain hidden even to the political players themselves - as a kind of subconscious theological racism perhaps when occurring in a Christian context. Having worked in Christian organisations avoidance of surfacing assumptions is perhaps best evidenced by the comment: "we are all Christians here and share Christian beliefs" which invariably means something along the lines of "this is difficult or potentially tricky or I am too lazy to do the work to get on the table the underlying issues."

Inevitably in Church politics as elsewhere, the poor, the less politically sophisticated and the various classes of folk we might call "dispossessed" or outside the power structures are cut out. This is the same in Sydney Diocese as anywhere else - and I attend an evangelical church in the Diocese.

At times I therefore look on in wonder at the un-redeemed actions of the political "players that be" in the Diocese and reflect on the kinds of people that I DON'T see having an influence on what matters, whose opinions are almost never sought. Finally, following on from Bruce Yabsley's insightful comment about ethics, is what we have in place in terms of tickets and factional processes really "the best of all possible worlds?" Do those who run these processes sit down every year and ask themselves and those outside their faction even: "could we do it better?" Could we be more Godly in our toughness?" Do we owe somebody an apology?" "Did we get it wrong and need to publicly repent?" A fallen world has at its heart a fallen politics. An accountable Christian politics will always evidence the fruits of the Spirit and seek forgiveness and mend its ways where and if it falls short.

Robert Zacher said...

Michael, you state above:

" ...as Tom Frame writes ‘[T]he Australian Church led the Anglican Communion in its embrace of synodical government’ ... "

I really don't know where Bp. Frame got that idea because the synodical government of the the diocese of Sydney and the Australian church was developed from 1866-1872 and onwards.

I contrast allow me to point out that the first triennial General Convention of The Episcopal Church met in September, 1785, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Episcopal Church General Convention, with its two houses of bishops and deputies and continuous triennial history predates by over 75 years the adoption of synodical government by any other national Anglican church.