JACK AND JACKIE 'FESS UP

The significance of this article is worryingly easy to establish.
 
It follows on from and is inspired by the comments I made in 'I'm all right, Jack and Jackie.'
 
The unavoidable fact is that this is the second, not my first piece of writing on this topic
 
The first essay was, in part, a critique. It was easy to write, It flowed easily off the pen, as I cheerfully criticised various institutiions.
 
It was all rather enjoyable really. Somewhat of a diatribe, a way of getting things off my chest!
 
The initial prompt was an upset I suffered near Havant, Hants, when attending a funeral of a member my staff.
 
It was at a Roman Catholic church, and I checked with a sidesman as to whether I could participate in the Eucharist if I chose, and was assured this would be ok.
 
As a former Anglican, having undergone confirmation and once a regular communicant of a South London parish, I thought I would and could enter into the Mass.
 
I had to battle with my anti-Roman Catholic upbringing and overcome prejudices on many levels.
 
The parish priest helped. He was brilliant. He led the service through, magnificently, and was inclusive and explanatory, reaching out to the vast majority of people there, who gave every sign of being both unchurched and unbelievers. He showed deftness and social dexterity, and his presentation of the gospel woven into the Mass, was masterly, appealing, non-judgmental and full of love. I was in awe, wishing I had just a part of his skill.
 
Thus I could ignore the religious artefacts strewn around the building, various rituals and symbolic goings-on which I only vaguely recognised, and which ran counter to my Calvinist cradle.
 
I could overlook and 'forgive' the fact that he called himself 'Father', which both triggers my desire to only use that title for my late father, and tapped into my application of Jesus' words, "call no man father."
 
I could ignore the robes, the intrusive liturgy, the discomfort of the majority of the congregation, who were there out of respect for the departed, but did not choose to engage on any level with the substance of the occasion.
 
I, on the other hand, was fully engaged. I had worked through every one of my prejudices, every one of my hang-ups, both theological and ecclesiastic, even the tangle in my heart over my sometimes fraught relationship with my father.
 
So, at last, I was going to share in Mass, demonstrate my unity in the Body of Christ, and end years of separation and on my side, distaste!
 
What then happened?
 
He said something which ruined it, ruined it in one phrase, left me feeling as if I had been punched in the solar plexus, gutted, absolutely gutted.
 
The mass, the prescribed act of communion, he told us, was only open for Roman Catholics.
 
Now I know this is probably inline with canon law, the rules etc of his denomination. I know he may have had no choice in the matter. I agree that each local expression of the Body of Christ can choose to regulate itself as it wishes, and that few allow all or sundry in on the feast of love, a central expression of covenant unity. I know all that!
 
I must also accept that it would not have hit me so hard if I had not been expecting to be permitted to participate by the kind sidesman's erroneous answer to my earlier inquiry.
 
It hurt, you see.
 
It sent an exclusive message. It highlighted our divisions, right in front of members of my staff who knew I claimed to be follower of Jesus. It precluded me from honouring the departed, and indicate fellowship with her surviving family members.
 
So that was the context of my earlier monograph.
 
It led me to reflect on the various shortcomings of various sections of the Church of Jesus Christ I had encountered over the years.
 
But now what troubles me is the fact that it was so easy to write. And this next section, which seeks to focus on the positives of the same groups I have previously criticised, was much harder to compose.
 
I have really had to consider what contributions these outfits make, and what gifts and insights I have overlooked or undervalued, or both!
 
It's been an interesting exercise. So here goes. Let us praise the following .
 
The Charismatics, for their rediscovery of excitement in acts act of worship, of apostolic ministry and of engagement with contemporary culture.
 
The Baptists, for their faithful continuation of Reformation insights and provision for non-Establishment membership
 
The High Church/smells and bells brigade for the rich texture and symbolic depth in their understanding of the beauty of holiness.
 
The Roman Catholics, for their theological rigour, continuity over many generations, and considered response to secular power issues.
 
The Liberals, for their uncritical acceptance, niceness and good manners.
 
The Social Activists, for their good works and involvement in the nitty-gritty. They are not afraid to get their hands dirty!
 
The Liturgists, for their application of ritual as theatre and collation of centuries of thought and reflection into digestible vignettes.
 
The Reformed Churches, for their intellectualism and legal rigour.
 
The New Churches for their recovery of team leadership, cultural relevance and willingness to experiment.
 
The Nominal Christians for their adherence to systems, norms, institutions and values without knowledge of the Person for whom all such actually exist.
 
The pre-millenial fundamentalists for ensuring that Jesus' Second Coming is never far from our consciousness. We need to often have the Parousia in mind.
 
The red-necked American and wealthy British churches, for their generosity and hospitality.
 
The British middle-class churches for their consistency and ethical engagement with contemporary issues.
 
The anti-female denominations for highlighting the persistent and omnipresent issues of gender, power and paternalism.
 
The African churches for their enthusiasm and faith.
 
The American churches for their organisation, management leadership and generosity in giving.
 
The Rwandan churches for their understanding and application of forgiveness and relational restoration.
 
The French churches for their faithfulness in the face of secularist fundamentalism and social contempt.
 
The Congolese churches of the diaspora for their networks of support and inter-cultural struggles to understand and be understood.
 
The Kenyan churches for their steadfastness in the face of endemic political corruption and persistent despoliation.
 
The Zambian churches for their resilience, consistency in the face of poverty and their ability to celebrate.
 
The Prosperity churches, for their challenge to economic poverty and their redoubtable belief in its eradication
 
The ultra Orthodox, for providing continuity, icons and near-Eastern theological approaches and modes of thought.
 
So, in conclusion, do we focus on the positives or only ever recite the negatives?
 
Are we swifter to see the latter than to dwell on the latter?
 
And why is it easier to flow downwards than upwards in thoughts and discourse?
 
And regardless of convenience (including the effects of metaphorical gravity) what is the call on our lives when it comes to thinking and speaking about each other?