Third Reflection on the Lambeth Conference.

From Bishop Martin.

Looking and Listening.

I have a hunch that Nelson Mandela might well have approved of a process which, for the Lambeth design group, was to take a central place throughout the conference. That process is known as Indaba. The accent is on the second syllable of the word Indaba. To place the accent on the third syllable, as was pointed out to us, adds a set of images to the Conference, which might be open to misinterpretation! Indaba is a Zulu word, suggesting a gathering for purposeful discussion. For Mandela, such an approach to political development and the managing of conflict were ingrained in his culture. Thabo Makagoba, the Archbishop of Capetown, was responsible for the initiative at the conference:

“Indaba is engagement with each other as we listen to one another concerning challenges that face the community. These challenges are addressed effectively when there is a desire, despite differences and conflict, to foster ongoing communal living.”

Traditionally, the Indaba consists of approximately 30 to 40 people sitting and conversing until resolution and a way forward is established in the face of any threat to the community or some radical change that has to be addressed. The leader of the Indaba is the one who presents the circumstances for conversation and ensures that each member is heard. In my Indaba were two women bishops. The Conference was my first opportunity to meet and get to know women bishops personally. Few though they were, they were outstanding in their demeanour and gentle strength. They had the ability to challenge and speak directly without injury or blame. I hope and pray that the Scottish Episcopal Church does not have to wait for too long for its first woman bishop.

This, of course, is a culturally different method of public discourse that has become the norm in the Northern hemisphere, where adversarial structures are used, as for example in the House of Commons, or for that matter in Synodical procedures in parts of the Anglican Communion, where the word ‘debate’ or ‘discussion’ is used, which often assumes that positions are adopted and that arguments are won or lost.

Of course, I do not wish to suggest that adversarial politics does not provide checks and balances as a process of accountability. However, to win a debate and to have the persuasive argument in discussion does not necessarily bring about willing conjunction of energy let alone resolution. For me, that is where the Indaba has a great deal to offer us.

I had to keep reminding myself that +Rowan, the Archbishop of Canterbury, wanted this Lambeth Conference to have a clear aim: to equip bishops as leaders in God’s Mission and, in doing so, strengthen the Anglican Communion. The Conference was not there primarily to meet the needs of those who wanted debate, discussion and confident decisions. That, of course, was a disappointment to some, including some Bishops themselves who perhaps feel more at home in the exercise of debate. Certain journalists seemed to be hovering around like vultures looking for signs of victory or defeat. They went away, I suspect, shrugging their shoulders or scratching their heads. There were no ‘carcasses’ to feed off and there were no ‘medal ceremonies’. I might add in passing that I am disturbed at the ability of certain news organisations having the increasing ability to force agenda and decisions, which so often spawns attitudes to the media that are defensive at best and secretive at worst. So often a Church press Officer has to become a strategist for defence and an expert in the art of fending-off.

Throughout the Conference, there was at least one session of Indaba a day. In the Indaba in which I was placed, there were bishops from Sudan, Ghana, Gambia and South Africa, North and South India, the Philippines, Canada, the United States, England and, yes, me – Scotland. When the Indaba addressed the issue of poverty, there was a depth of nervousness and sensitivity, not surprisingly, given the massive economic imbalance between the different countries represented. Now I ask you to remember that this is my reflection and is not therefore representative. I can only illustrate the depth of importance in Indaba in an exchange I had with a Bishop from Central Sudan. He had been separated from his wife for over 6 years because of the various conflicts in Sudan. He did not know, during that time, whether she was alive or dead. They are re-united now and both were at the conference – tall, dignified, quiet and direct in their Christian expression. I asked him, in the Indaba, if I would be able to live for just one month the same daily life-style as he does. ‘No’, was his reply without hesitation, ‘Nor am I asking you to, Martin. I am asking you to look and listen to us and you will see that Christ is on the ground with us.’ This image of ‘Christ being on the ground with us’ is perhaps the most important gift I received in the Lambeth Conference. I pursued the matter with him, however. He has a cup of tea in the early morning and one meal a day which occasionally includes protein. ‘Martin you would not survive psychologically, because you would have chosen to live as such.’ Of course, the Sudanese bishop and, by extension, countless others do survive psychologically perhaps because they have to! How can you possibly debate and argue with such an experience?

What struck me when I had time to pray later on that day is the question as to how would a community like Oban, or Sheffield, or Falkirk cope if people went to Tesco’s or Sainsbury’s one Monday morning and found the shelves empty? At least, I am now aware of the first of the Millennium Goals: ‘The eradication of extreme poverty by 2015.’ Maybe it is alarmist to suggest the possibility of empty shelves. However, we do not have, I sense, enough inner strength as a culture to cope with levels of poverty that I looked at and listened to in the Indaba. A thorough examination of my lifestyle seems to me essential if I am going to begin to address my responsibility towards this Millennium Goal. In the Scottish Episcopal Church we talk about the responsibility of all the baptised. Perhaps that responsibility may include a corporate examination of lifestyle….?

There were, inevitably, one or two voices that intervened wondering when we were going to ‘get down to business’ and – yes – discuss the issue of same-sex relationships and make powerful statements to expectant people ‘back home’. Here there was a stark distinction to be made between bishops from India and Africa who were expected to return to their Diocese with clear decisions, recalling the fact that, as I understand it, homosexuality is illegal in India. For others, such as myself, the expectation of ‘Lambeth decisions’ was not so prominent, with the possible exception of a few contrasting groups within our Church whose respect for episcopacy, as they see it, has been damaged by bishops who are liberal, or conservative or just indecisive!

For many of us bishops, the question as to whether someone is gay or not is to do with the way we are as human beings. For me, the understanding of homosexuality has increased hugely over the last 20 years. Others see it as a condition which can be healed. Others see it as inherently sinful. There is little point in raising the eyebrows and claiming that it is no longer an issue in our culture; characterising it simply as a pre-occupation of largely middle-aged and elderly men. One Bishop from Africa is regularly threatened because he is an Anglican Bishop, with words daubed over his house: ‘The Bishop is a Gay Bastard’. He has had his life threatened on several occasions. In some cultures, homosexuality can still be a death sentence for some. The Bishop of California, Mark Andrus, a warm, calm and scholarly bishop, described his home city of San Francisco: a liberal culture, multi-cultural and wealthy and yet young gay people have been beaten up and left to die. In no way, could he compromise his stance that gay and lesbian people need respect and love and whole-hearted acceptance. Out of that Indaba session there was no resolution. How could there have been? What did happen was that bishops from spectacularly different cultures listened to each other and loved each other in the different agonies of their diocese, resolving to work together out of that looking, listening and loving.

I was a little anxious at the Indaba session which looked at the bishop as a leader in Mission. To be honest, I had already been winded by the image of the Anglican Church in Africa, Asia and the Pacific where growth is massive and constant. What was so heart-warming was to realise from the deep listening and looking at stories that the growth in the Gambia, for example, is a growth in which I belong. This Anglican Church is our Church. The growth in Sierra Leone is the growth of Argyll and The Isles. The beauties and struggles of our Diocese are the beauties and struggles of the Diocese of Kansas, Delaware and Swaziland. The growth of the Anglican in Africa is not to be understood as a judgement on our diminishment and failure, but a gift that in some ways has come from the faith and conviction of this land, which can now resonate back to us, if we see ourselves more as the communion which Lambeth inspired.

For me, what I have drawn from the Indaba is not just an effective process, but a sense of Eucharistic theology working. Here we were men and women feeling deeply thankful for each other, that what they had received was indeed ‘Christ on the ground’ in the detail of our contrasting lives.

Canterbury Cathedral and its role in the Lambeth Conference will be the subject of my next reflection.

+Martin

Bishop of Argyll and The Isles

19.8.08.