Vision 2019: Where I See Our Church in Ten Years’ Time.

Without a past there is no future. Our collective amnesia is one of the great threats to the church and to society as a whole. In order to envisage the future, we need to remember where we have come from. Canadian society has rapidly evolved from British colony to a multicultural society, widely regarded as one of the most successful in the world. Our church has also evolved rapidly. Until 1949 the Church of England in Canada, as we were then known, was still dependent on grants from the United Kingdom. Unlike the Episcopal Church in the United States, which was forced to stand on its own feet from 1776 on, Canadian Anglicans inherited a notion of ‘established church’, and with it the erroneous belief that somehow the state would finance it.  Part of our history included the Upper Canadian vision that we should be established – out of which grew the battles between Strachan and Ryerson. In Quebec, of course, which until 1960 had two established churches (Roman Catholicism for the French-Canadians and a privileged Anglicanism for the English minority which controlled most of the financial institutions), the situation was somewhat different; but there was a widespread assumption that if you didn’t have an Anglo-Saxon name and white skin (unless you were an evangelised First Nations person) you couldn’t possibly be Anglican! It was not until 1955 that we changed our name (out of a growing recognition that it was a barrier to non-English immigrants and French-Canadians) from “Church of England in Canada” to “The Anglican Church of Canada/Ēglise Anglicane du Canada”. This was coupled with a desire to have a Canadian Book of Common Prayer to replace the 1662 version then in use. The first draft book of 1955 was deemed a bit too Catholic for what was still a largely Orange church. In 1959 a slightly revised book was unanimously approved by General Synod. It represented in many ways the end of the old hostilities between “High” and “Low” Anglicans. After the required approval by another General Synod in 1962 it became the official Canadian Book of Common Prayer.  Already, however, we were into the sixties, and the winds of change were blowing. Almost immediately there were requests for more contemporary liturgies, and twenty years of “experimental liturgy” led to the 1985 Book of Alternative Services.

There were other changes as well. In 1949 the Canada Mortgage and Housing Authority, set up in response to returning World War II veterans and a wave of post-war immigration, effectively created suburbia, and with it a demand for affordable housing and cars. The 1950s saw a new era of church-building, and the highest percentage of church attendance in Canadian history, which probably established false norms for church participation. But this decade soon gave way to a widespread questioning of tradition and authority. The church responded in several ways. Management consultants encouraged the church to adopt “more business-like” models, 600 Jarvis Street in Toronto became our corporate head office, and the primacy was detached from diocesan responsibilities. 1963 saw not only John Robinson’s “Honest to God”, but our own commissioning of Pierre Berton’s “The Comfortable Pew” as part of our attempt to listen to the disenchanted. A new curriculum incorporating the latest pedagogical theories was launched, but proved too difficult for the average Sunday School teacher to manage. In Quebec, the “Quiet Revolution” of 1960 saw the end of the Duplessis era and a rapid process of de-Christianisation, coupled with a desire to be “Maîtres Chez Nous”, the growth of separatism, and an exodus of Anglophones from the province. In 2009 Quebec is the most secular of all provinces, but the country as a whole has largely followed suit. The old “mainline churches” have largely lost ground to militant secularism or American-style fundamentalism.

Internally, Anglicans responded to social change with a number of measures. In 1967, General Synod authorised the remarriage of divorced persons in church (subject to marriage commissions which have now largely faded away). 1968 saw the first admissions of baptised, but not confirmed, children to Holy Communion. In the same period the dual crises of Vietnam and South African apartheid led to the establishment of task forces on Corporate Social Responsibility. In 1970, the Advisory Commission on Postulants for Ordination was set up to screen applicants for ordination, and seminaries began to emphasise a greater professionalism for clergy; but a downside of this was an emphasis on professional hours and compensation at the expense of traditional ideas of vocation, though this was partly a reaction to the notion that vocation meant parishes need not pay a living wage. In 1976 the first women were ordained to the priesthood, and in 1994 Victoria Matthews became the first woman bishop in the Anglican Church of Canada. The seventies also saw a growing emphasis on the ministry of the laity, spearheaded by the Alban Institute and “Education for Ministry”. All these changes provoked controversy, but none more so than the now twenty-five year old debate on homosexuality, ordination and the blessing of same-sex unions. There is also a global split between Christians in the Southern and Northern Hemispheres. Philip Jenkins has written extensively on this, pointing out that fundamentalist Pentecostalism is the wave in the former, while the more ‘liberal’ churches in the north are in decline, and facing a newly militant atheism. For Anglicans, the global split (with some notable exceptions) is between churches interested in dialogue and consultative decision-making versus churches combining evangelical fundamentalism with top-down prelacy. Another recent phenomenon in European and North American society is the so-called “emergent church movement”, which mistrusts ecclesiastical bureaucracy, but is serious about theology, social justice, and accountable and collaborative leadership.

The last fifty years have seen enormous change, leading some to demand a return to idealised old ways, and others to seek even greater change in response to societal shifts. If the 20^th Century saw more change than the whole of human history before it, it has been said that the first twenty-five years of this century will see more changes than the whole of the twentieth. Demographics and the combination of genetics, nanotechnology and robotics have unleashed forces for change which may lead to new questions about what it means to be human. All this provides the context for envisioning the future of Anglicanism. It might be helpful to consider this under the following headings: Identity, Authority and Community.

1. IDENTITY. If even fifty years ago most Anglicans were British migrants or descendants of same, today the people who make up our congregations are perpetual migrants – from other countries, other provinces within Canada, or other religious backgrounds or none. An Anglican, we might say today, is a person who chooses to worship and serve in an Anglican church, but only as long as his or her personal needs are being met. It takes very little to make people leave the church, but a lot more to attract and keep them. There is little cultural support, and in a culture of instant gratification, people are easily enthused and quickly disillusioned. So what have we to offer? People are attracted to good liturgy, good preaching, good pastoral care, good programming for children and youth, food for the mind, good social events, and concern for the wider community. It is worth pointing out that we offer more biblical content than most “evangelical” or “Bible” churches, but also do not ask people to park their minds at the church door. We are more concerned with influence than coercion, with asking the right questions than having ready answers. We stand on the traditional ‘three-legged stool’ of scripture, tradition and reason. Our concern is to encourage fullness of life for all persons, which is realised in responsible freedom.
2. AUTHORITY. All real authority stems from care and concern for truth and for persons. Anglicanism has a healthy respect for good scholarship, genuine dialogue, the dignity of  each individual, and the importance of community. It does not take kindly to autocracy or to selective and self-serving quotation from scripture. The authority of the Bible comes from being read whole – as an account of ongoing revelation within specific contexts. The questions are about what are universal truths, and how can they be applied in particular situations. There is a difference between being a “confessing church” and a “confessional church”. In our church “persons of authority” have no authority apart from the whole body of the faithful: but the process of discernment necessarily involves dialogue between the local and the universal church. New insights always begin somewhere, and are tested over time and space. The principle of Gamaliel is useful: “If it is of God, it will last; if not, it will not.” We do well to remember that Jesus consistently repudiated those who thought they possessed the truth. For him servanthood is the governing principle of authority – service to the Truth which is beyond all naming, and service to the children of God, especially “the last, the lost, and the least”. In a communion which espouses ‘mutual responsibility and interdependence’ authority is shared, and no one is beyond accountability.
3. COMMUNITY. Community is possible only where there is mutual respect and trust – where the Body is made possible only by the interdependence and interaction of the individual members, and the individual members have no life without the Body. The two major Christian images for the church are Paul’s “Body of Christ” and the doctrine of the Trinity as Three-in-One and One-in-Three. Classical Anglicanism has found expression in the notion of communion with Canterbury and one another, and in recognition of autonomous provinces in regular conversation with each other. Current stresses lie less in the presenting issues around sexuality, and more in tensions between “mystery and paradox” on the one hand, and “biblical literalism and legalism” on the other. To put it another way, are we a principles-based or a rules-based church?

The Next Ten Years

Prophecy cannot be equated with prediction. Given the current economic chaos and the increasing rapidity of technological change, we cannot predict where we shall be ten years from now, or even discern what kind of church we would like to see, or (better) what kind of church God would have us be. Despite this, it may be possible to discern the kinds of issues we will be facing, and how we might wish to deal with them. So here goes:

1. Demographics. Canada has an aging population, and there are questions as to whether there will be enough younger people to support the growing numbers of people over 65, and an increased demand on the health system and other services. Anglicans are predominantly in the older age group, and many of our institutions may well be insupportable financially as our membership diminishes. There may well be a renewed interest in spirituality, but our capacity to attract new members will require less fearful preoccupation with maintenance, and a confident sharing of our gifts. This will likely involve liturgical excellence using current liturgical forms, plus new ways of “doing church”. The internet could be a major instrument of evangelism.
2. The inevitability of breakdown. As Thomas Homer-Dixon has pointed out, all systems are subject to stress and collapse. The issue is not whether there will be breakdowns, but whether we are willing and able to anticipate and deal with them before problems become catastrophes. We need a church which can learn from the past, but not be imprisoned by it, is able to muster flexible responses both to anticipated and unanticipated change, and can deal with the law of unintended consequences.
3. Living with contradiction. From the beginning of time we have been a bundle of contradictions. We do better when we avoid ‘either/or’ thinking and learn to be comfortable with ‘both/and’ approaches. The latter has always characterised mystical theology with its deep insights, but which has also made the institutional church uncomfortable. The church of the future needs both humility and humour to keep it faithful.
4. Anticipating technological benefits and threats. The anticipated ‘singularity’, or convergence of genetics, nanotechnology and robotics, promises to expand our capacity for solving problems, and to more than double the human lifespan. It also threatens to change our understanding of what it is to be human. We are already having difficulty distinguishing between ‘reality’ and ‘virtual reality’ and this distinction is likely to become increasingly blurred. There is dispute among scientists who say research in these areas should be halted, and those who say it cannot, and our only choice is to minimise the harm and seek the greatest good from it. It goes without saying that there will be enormous ethical and spiritual challenges. Will we be ready for them?
5. The global economy. Pope Benedict’s encyclical ‘Caritas in Veritate’ underscores the dangers of global capitalism in the aftermath of the recent and current recession. There is danger in worshipping any economic system, whether capitalist or socialist, and the primary good must always be human welfare and the integrity of creation.  ‘Economics’ derives of course from the Greek ‘oikonomia’, which concerns not only production, distribution and consumption of goods, but the overall well-being of the community. We have been a somewhat Erastian church, inclined to go along with the powers-that-be, and blessing the status quo. This was what drove our participation in the indigenous residential schools program which, despite the dedication of many teachers to their students, was inherently racist and imperialistic in both religious and cultural terms. We have since had to re-think our understanding of ‘mission’, but our marginalisation has a benefit – the possibility of becoming prophetic. But are we willing to pay the price? I hope for a courageous church.
6. Consumerism and celebrity. We have largely replaced the idea of citizenship with the notion that we are consumers – of natural resources (hewers of wood and drawers of water), and of ‘goods and services’ provided by others. As such, we are prone to live our dreams vicariously, both in what we expect government to do for us, and through the entertainment industry which offers us celebrities whom we simultaneously idolise and topple from their pedestals – in that they represent our own contradictions of ambition and self-loathing. We also sexualise them to meet our fantasies of bodily perfection and our reduction of them to objects for our consumption. In the sixties Daniel Boorstin (“The Image”) described our tendency to see the world as a series of ‘media events’ – created and filtered by the camera lens, and later by computer imaging. It wasn’t long before ‘image politics’ stole the show, and war became nightly entertainment on CNN and other outlets. Digital gaming became so ‘lifelike’ that we could create ‘virtual reality’ according to our own fantasies. Marketing became the art of manipulating the consumer to want what the producers felt we should have. Advertising increasingly used religious images and language to promote salvation by consumption. How does the church market itself in such a culture, where ‘image professionals’ seem to promote their wares so much more effectively than we can? I see a challenge and an opportunity in people’s renewed desire for authenticity and a desire for depth. Liturgical communities can no longer be content with rote readings from a book of words (however up-to-date), or preaching that fails to challenge and inspire. It’s no longer about producing new books of words, but about recovering the whole notion of celebration and lamentation in community. And we have to do this better than hockey and football, by enabling genuine participation.
7. Choice and vocation. The consumer society is built on planned obsolescence and non-stop acquisition, coupled with illusions of choice between products with few differences. The language of vocation has largely been discarded, and the notion of sacrifice has been replaced with the promise that we can have it (‘salvation’) now, and with little or no down-payment. I anticipate a church which has rediscovered vocation and sacrifice to the glory of God and the greater good of all God’s creation. We have largely lost our sense of what we are for, and I look for more Anglicans on the frontiers of the spirit.
8. Education. Having been Director of Education for Ministry, Canada, I have seen the transformation in people who have become biblically and historically literate, and are able to engage in theological reflection which equips them for ministry, not only in the church, but in the wider world. I look for a church which takes education seriously, and whose members all see themselves as working theologians.
9. Faith and the arts. The church was once one of the great sponsors of art, architecture and music. I look for a renaissance in these areas.
10. On being ‘nice’. Niceness is not the same as ‘agapé’ – the willing of the good of the other. There is room for ‘tough love’ in the church of the future.
11. Summary. Faith is always a liminal (threshold) experience, lived between past and future, light and darkness, remembrance and hope. Faith is supposed to raise our consciousness, not repress it. I look for a church which will recover this sense of adventurous ambiguity and ambivalence.

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