Leadership

I've been thinking a lot about leadership lately.  I'm writing an essay on church discipline and its relevance in the 21st century church, and of course the leader of a church has a role in that.  There have been some interesting online debates recently about church discipline - if you're interested take a look at Matthew Paul Turner's blog.

But my thoughts on leadership have been much wider than just church discipline, and it seems I'm not the only one who is thinking a lot about 21st century church leadership lately (see Mike Friesen's blog here, here and here, for instance).

In my research for this essay I've found some great books, which I highly recommend: 

The Fourfold Leadership of Jesus, by Andrew Watson, an Anglican vicar;

7 Deadly Sins of Women in Leadership by Kate Coleman, a Baptist minister;

Post-Christendom:  Church and Mission in a Strange New World by Stuart Murray, an Anabaptist and overseer of Urban Expression, a pioneering urban church planting agency;

and Leadership:  a Critical Text by Simon Western, a Quaker, and the Director of Coaching at the Management School, Lancaster University.

At this point in my curacy (in my final year) I'm reflecting a lot on what kind of leader I want to be and what kind of leader God wants me to be.  I'm thinking about what kind of leadership style I'm inclined towards, and how I might need to push beyond my natural comfort zones to really go where God wants to take me in terms of leading a church as an incumbent.  It's quite exciting, really.  This is such an interesting time in Christianity in the west.  Interesting and very challenging. 

I quite like it that the books listed above, the ones I really got a lot out of, are written by people from four different traditions.  One thing I warmed to about all four books is their common emphasis on the need for collaboration and community.  The 21st century does not take well to domineering, heirarchical leadership, but a multi-voiced, sensitive, listening, serving and enabling kind of leadership is what many are calling for, with vision, attentive to the Spirit. Bring it on!

Ring Bell for Church Renewal

Thank God for people like John Bell. We had an 'optional' IME day today (IME = Initial Ministerial Education, or curate training day) with John Bell of the Iona Community and I'm sure glad I took the option to attend. Bell's easy and authentic way of communicating was warming and inspiring.

The theme was something along the lines of sacred spaces and symbols, and discussion revolved initially around things like church architecture, reordering the space so that it speaks of such important qualities as welcome, gathered community, singing praise, word & table & heavenly kingdom. Some of our churches are a product of their time, architecturally speaking. Individual private worship in rigid pews, austere aesthetics, high distant altar, etc. Bell talked about ways churches can change (eek! change???) to become more meaningful authentic worship spaces that reflect Jesus as being right there among his people. Chairs instead of pews, arranged in the round with a central table seems to be Bell's vision, and this happens in places. I'm quite attracted to the idea. The solid arguments for change must be based on the need to welcome all, for the sake of effective mission and evangelism.

A question was brought up from the audience about projector screens. I think the asker was asking about the screen as a central focal point and Bell's views on this, but his reply was interesting. His concern was the fleeting nature of song lyrics on a screen, as opposed to the permanence of black ink on a service sheet or songbook. People cannot reflect as easily on song lyrics that vanish immediately from sight after being sung as they can when, perhaps during the sermon, they can revisit the text of the lyrics on the sheet or in a book. They can often see who wrote the song or hymn, and when it was written, too. Bell spoke of the ability of the words to minister to us, and asks whether this ministry is as effective if the words just disappear. He suggests if a screen is used to also use books or song sheets as well, and don't worry about the trees in this instance, it is worth it. If you're concerned about the trees, protest against all the junk mail or free 'news' papers everywhere, he said.

In the second half of the day Bell focussed on symbols. First, using the wedding service as an example, he asked us to think about what the actions are really symbolising. If a couple who already have been living together decide to wed in the traditional manner of father 'giving away' the bride, what is this meaning? People do like tradition, though, for its own sake, even if they haven't thought much about the meaning at all. And why do the congregation, who after all are there as 'witnesses', only get to see the backsides of the bride and groom during the ceremony? Apparently this has origins in the days when weddings were much quieter and smaller affairs, often held in the parsonage with only a couple of witnesses.

Music is also a symbolic thing. Our God is a symbolic God - this is shown in the bible when God asks his people, for example, to build rock cairns at places of significance. Jesus gave us the most potent symbols of bread and wine as his body and his blood. Bell cautioned against the use of symbolic actions in worship if it hasn't got relevance - there is a difference between symbolic action and gimmicry.

Finally, Bell demonstrated how the wonderful songs from the Iona Community can be used in a liturgical setting, especially the short songs, which are like chants, really. Prayers or bible readings can be interspersed with these short songs, and we tried out a few and they were lovely. 'Church renewal' is what the Iona Community says its about, and John Bell is a wonderful, inspirational spokesperson. God bless him.

Priesthood

As it is, I am an ordained deacon. As of Saturday afternoon, June 19th, I will be an ordained priest. The wonderful people in my parish ask me if I am excited, or if I am looking forward to it. Definitely yes, and yes. But that is mixed up with a whole cocktail of other emotions as well.

This time last year when I was ordained as a deacon, I couldn't imagine being ordained priest. Gradually as the year has progressed, with experiences gained and much prayer and seeking after God, my imagination has been stretched. The composition of my being seems increasingly perfused with 'priestly' qualities. And the formal ordination service marks the point at which I will be able, with authority given by God and by the Church, to use those qualities in profound ways to serve God and to serve people.

Not too many years ago, I was fairly anti-priestly-authority, fairly anti-church-heirarchy and institutionalism. I still am, on many levels. I've always believed in the 'priesthod of all believers' (1 Peter 2:9). I long for the 'priesthood of all believers' to be full-on enabled and released into ministry. I wonder if the ordained priesthood as a stipendiary office would even be necessary if the priesthood of all believers were fully engaged in the world.

What does it mean to be a priest in Christ's church, when Christ himself is our High Priest (Hebrews 5)? In the Old Testament, a priest was a mediator between God and his people. There was a curtain in the Temple through which only the priest could pass to access God in the holy of holies, where the Ark of the Covenant rested. When Jesus was crucified, the temple curtain was torn in two (Matthew 27:51). Jesus opened up the way to God for us all, by his death on the cross. No longer is any earthly mediator required for any of us to have access to God; our heavenly mediator is Christ, and we ourselves live in Christ through his Spirit.

This is why I've never really liked the title priest to describe what we do today, because it can confuse the role that priests should fulfil in these post-resurrection days. But this is what they are called in many denominations, and so long as the role is clear and not abused (which sadly, it often is), then I can just manage to get my head around it. For me, being ordained as a priest will be a commissioning, a releasing, to be and to do what God has put me on this earth to be and to do. I just pray I will be faithful to this.

So the role is about both being and doing. But if there's no longer any need for the Old Testament priestly function, what do priests today do? I came across this incisive poem about being a priest, on the blog of an ordinand who seems also to wrestle a lot with the notion of priesthood and ordination. I'm so grateful we have a God who doesn't mind our wrestling with him and with the mysteries of his purposes (I've always loved Genesis 32:22-32 where Jacob wrestles with God).

Yes, I am very excited about Saturday, and about Sunday, when I will preside for the first time at Holy Communion, and be able to say the Absolution and the Blessing. It is a great privilege to be able to do this kind of work full-time. Please pray for me and for all those who are called to ordained ministry of whatever form. I pray that in our ministry, the name of Christ will be honoured above all else; unto him be all honour and glory for ever. Amen.

On being assessed

Yesterday I led Morning Prayer at one of my churches. Before the service began, I was waiting in the wings with the choir and the Reader - waiting for the vicar to join us. I asked the others whether the vicar had arrived yet, and they said, 'Yes, but he is sitting in the congregation today. He's assessing you'.

Assessing me? That was surprising news to me - the vicar hadn't told me he was going to sit in the congregation and 'assess' me. I felt shocked and a bit betrayed! My knees began to shake and I became hot under the collar! I stammered my way through a vestry prayer, and we processed out. I tried to look like I knew what I was doing (and I was thankful for encouragement from the Reader)! This was the first time I had led Morning Prayer here, and the first service I was to lead on my own. I spotted the vicar in the congregation and he appeared to be making notes! I managed the service ok (it isn't a difficult one, really, is it?!), though I didn't feel relaxed at all. After the service I expressed my feelings to the vicar, and much to my relief he was as shocked as I was that he had been 'assessing' me! In reality, it had just been a joking comment made by the choir. He wasn't actually assessing me at all! He did bring me a cup of coffee 'to make amends', though, which works every time for me.

Later I reflected on how the prospect of 'being assessed' made me feel. It wasn't a comfortable feeling, but it was probably a beneficial experience after all, and one in which I have learned something. There will be things that will happen immediately prior to leading services that will catch us off guard and perhaps throw us off a bit. Someone will do or say something that causes us to wobble. But we must carry on. And really, the whole three years of curacy are an assessment of sorts. It's about learning how to worship and lead at the same time, and sometimes we just have to fly by the seat of our pants.

(Oh, and take the choir's comments with a pinch of salt...!)