Appendix 1David McKenzie

Appendix 2

Appendix 3

What is Diocese?

Diocese of DunedinMinistry Conference

June 21st – 23rd

Rt Rev’d Dr Helen-Ann Hartley,Bishop of Waikato

Firstly, thank you very much indeed for your invitation to speak to your gathering, and I bring you greetings from my Diocese, particularly from Archbishop Philip to you all!

When I discovered that I was to share some reflections on this topic after dinner I wondered for a moment what that might mean, particularly how might I prevent you all from falling asleep!

My brief from Alec was clear: ‘we don’t want a dry report on the history of what diocese means’! So I hope you won’t feel that what I am about to say will be dry! Inevitably I do want to say something briefly about the history, but only because that helps set the scene. Above all, I want us to think together creatively about what Diocese might represent for you heading into the future. I’m not advocating we find another

name! We aren’t a brand, we are the Body of Christ with all the unpredictability and ups and downs that entails, not least because we are all different. So I am going to talk for a while, and then I have a discussion topic that I want you to spend some time having conversation around. I want to lead you through a reflection that comes in three parts: firstly an introduction, to get your imaginative juices flowing; secondly a perspective from above (I think there must be something about bishops and outer space, like when you become a bishop you are overwhelmed with an existential need to ponder the Universe!); and thirdly, a perspective from ground level, where we are right now. I hope that at the end your horizons might have been broadened just a little, and at the very least I have given you some things to think about, and stimulate your conversations going forward. So, if you are sitting comfortably, but let’s be clear, not too comfortably, I want to begin with a short story.

“Have you heard?” whispered Sarah over her shoulder to David and Mary.“Heard what?” Mary whispered back, leaning forward. The church was filling up pew by pew and people were opening up their hymn books to see if they’d be singing any favourites. It was Sunday and the morning service was about to start.“We’re being visited by The Diocese today!” Sarah said screwing up her face, as if she’d said they were being visited the head-teacher, or a plague.“The Diocese!?” asked David, eyes darting around the church. “Here? Today? Us? The Diocese!?”Richard had overheard, because contrary to popular belief, his hearing was pitch perfect. He slid down the pew and leaned in. “Oh yes,” he said “the Diocese are here alright.” He gave a knowing nod.

“They’re already here?” demanded Mary, looking toward the door for signs of disruption. “Where?”“Right here,” Richard whispered. He leaned closer. “The Diocese is sitting on this pew.”Sarah, David, Mary and Anna and Claire who had also overheard, gasped and looked at one another in horror. They stared up and down the pew, looking into the faces of their fellow parishioners with questioning eyes, and shaking heads. Richard saw their confused looks and said, “Thing is… I’m the Diocese.”“No! Oh Richard, we didn’t know! When did that happen?” At first they seemed sorry for him then they turned suspicious and whispered, “How long have you been the Diocese for?”“Well…” said Richard, “let me see…all my life I suppose, or at least as long as I’ve been worshipping here, which is pretty much the same thing.”They couldn’t believe their ears. How could Richard have been secretly The Diocese all these years whilst acting normally in church? He was no better than a spy. All these years! They’d been on Vestry together. What a thing to do!“It’s true. I am the Diocese. And… so is David.” He nodded in David’s direction. David clamped his hands over his own mouth in shock. His wife glared at him. Sarah’s head turned from Richard to David and back again like she was watching tennis. Claire was pale. Before David could object, Richard carried on, “So is Ian the Liturgist, and the vicar Alison, and Eunice and Amy in the choir…in fact the whole choir. And the back row you’re wondering? They’re all The Diocese too. And the Youth Group? Yup, they’re all the Diocese.” Mary forgot herself and said loudly, “No! It cannot be true!” People turned in their pews to stare.“Mary,” Richard soothed as he laid his hand gently over hers, “Mary, you are The Diocese too.”It was too much to handle. How could Mary be The Diocese? How could any of them? How could she not have realised? Before she could process this news the congregation got to their feet as the Vicar and choir processed in.Hymns were sung, prayers were said, a sermon was delivered. There wasn’t time to talk about any of this during The Peace, so after the service they all gathered around Richard to ask just what he had meant. Slowly and calmly Richard explained that the Diocese was in fact made up of all the churches, including this one, and of all the people in the churches. It included all the clergy, all the Wardens and choirs and children

and teenagers and even all the people that the church regularly prayed for who could no longer make it in on a Sunday. They were the Diocese too. The Diocese wasn’t a separate entity. It was like one body and the churches were the limbs and the people were the fingers, toes, eyes, hair and eyelashes. Together all these bits made up the Diocese. Richard explained that when a portion of the money parishioners donate to their church goes to pay for Mission and Ministry Support at the Diocese, that support is actually for them, because, you’ve got it, they are the Diocese.“How’s that different from the Diocesan Office?” asked Anna. “Well now, that’s a physical building, and inside it are people who work to serve the Diocese, that’s us. Try not to mix them up.” He said, a bit patronisingly. Anna told Richard that he was terribly clever and gave his arm a squeeze.

All of this information made Sarah and David and Mary and their friends feel surprised at first for having not thought of this themselves, then really happy because it meant if they were indeed the Diocese, then they could make suggestions and take part in Diocesan activities and events and feel part of a great big team. It meant they had a lot more in common with St Whatitsname down the road than they once thought as they were the Diocese too. Who’d have imagined? Before they could dwell on this revelation further, the vicar came over with the visitor from the Diocesan Office, and a plate of asparagus rolls and they all lived happily ever after. The end.

Beginning…“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from”

T. S. Eliot, Four Quartets.

When I was looking through some notes recently, I came across this quotation. While the context of the poem itself is important (broadly speaking, Eliot’s Four Quartets are all about human being’s relationship with time, the universe and God) the particular context of my recording of this line was your Diocesan Synod on September 19th, 2012. My recollection of being at that Synod was listening into a conversation about your future, a conversation that continues still today, some four years later. I say that to acknowledge the voices that have already contributed to this discussion, their insight and wisdom. I wonder what has changed for you in the past four years? Another note I wrote down said this: ‘conversations are important, but action needs to happen’! That may be true, but action for action’s sake in a kind of reactive and panicky mode can miss the depth that faithfulness can bring. In some ways, the question ‘what is Diocese’ might equally be said of ‘what is Church?’ I have been doing quite a lot of reflecting on that in recent weeks, both in the run up to and following General Synod. I find myself at the uncomfortable point of saying this: most of the productive conversations I have about Diocese are in fact with people not formally part of the institution in which I hold office.

Twitter – make sure your next bishop uses social media!

...point is – Christ is here!

Last week I attended Fieldays. I quite fancy the idea of traveling around in a milk tanker, having taken the

wheel of one! Fonterra tanker drivers travel on average 700km a day. Since I became bishop over two years ago, I have clocked up nearly 72,000km in my car! Travel around my Diocese has broadened my perspective, but the sorts of conversations I have with farmers like Chris here, who farms in Taranaki and

who I had a conversation with at Fieldays are the conversations that really energise my vocation. I do wonder if in the present climate, the Church (as institution) runs the risk of falling into introspection, and spending too much time in propositional arguments which ultimately mean that the story of God’s salvation is actually being told outside our walls and less within it? Pastoral care abounds (and pastoral care in our farming communities is so critical at the moment), but its not necessarily the Church that is doing it.

Let’s not make an idol out of ourselves! Remember the story of the golden calf?!

While I acknowledge that the questions what is Diocese and what is church are separate, they are related; because one is part of the other in our ecclesiology; and that is an important point to bear in mind in all our discussions.It’s also very important that we don’t get too focused on church communities (as in the way the buildings are used…)

Our schools are very important….

Tongariro crossing!

Last Sunday St Peter’s Cathedral in Hamilton celebrated an early patronal – it’s 100 th! This is the cake that was made!

The role of the Cathedral in the life of the Diocese is absolutely critical – as a place of focus (it’s where the Bishop has their seat, that’s the whole reason it is called a Cathedral – seat)… …as a place of community

engagement and outreach, as a civic gathering space, a place that local groups can use, young, old; a place of liturgical excellence without being too precious about that; the list goes on…

If you google ‘Diocese’ you will be immediately taken to various Diocesan websites. Buried in all of these are articles like what is the correct pronunciation of the word Diocese, and how on earth do you pronounce the plural?! There is something of an image problem with the word because it is, in essence a functional descriptor. It’s not really meant to inspire or excite! At least that’s not the initial reaction you will get.

Come to think of it, quite a lot of the life of the church can seem strange to those not well briefed in its use of language!

Soon after I was elected bishop, so before my consecration, I attended the Diocesan Synod. During this gathering, there was an extended debate about the boundaries of parishes, which went into extraordinary detail. Some were saying that delineation of boundaries was pointless, others that it in fact it mattered that every street and blade of grass were included. While I see the attraction of saying let’s simplify, I am firmly of the belief that it is of fundamental importance that everything has its place, and that the parish system and the Diocesan system ensure that no one or no thing is left out. As Esther said so movingly this morning, in many communities (and this is true in my Diocese also) the Anglicans are so often the only show in town, literally. It is true however that Anglican ecclesiology can be a bit like divine geo-caching: you travel about to see if you can find a little parcel of Christianity up some remote country road ….

That’s not an entirely unrealistic point to make. Here is the church of St Hilda in the Woods, located 50km up NZ’s longest no-exit road in south Taranaki! I went here a couple of years ago to take a Christmas service; the whole community showed up, and the little church was packed, and we had the most amazing picnic outdoors afterwards! The church is beautifully cared for, the grass kept short and the weeds at bay. This expression of sacred space matters immensely, more than perhaps we ourselves know because we often take it for granted.Dictionary definition:diocesePronunciation: /ˈdʌɪəsɪs/NOUN (plural dioceses /ˈdʌɪəsiːz/ /ˈdʌɪəsiːzɪz/)A district under the pastoral care of a bishop in the Christian Church.

The Oxford English Dictionary definition then goes on to rather handily give words that rhyme with Diocese: archdiocese, elephantiasis, psoriasis being three such examples!The question of origin is an important one, because it helps us understand where we have come from so that we can begin this process of what T S Eliot describes as ‘we shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.’ In the 290s under the Emperor Diocletian, there was an increased level of bureaucracy. Roman provinces were divided into 12 dioceses, each interestingly headed by a vicarius This model was further developed by the emperor Constantine in 326-8 where dioceses functioned as an intermediate level between province and prefecture (the latter being groupings of provinces). Between the 4th and 6th centuries (which is when Christianity became more dominant), the administrative structure of the Roman Empire crumbled, and the role of Bishops became increasingly political. It is not surprising therefore that ecclesiastical administration grew to resemble that of Roman administration. The core reality of an administrative area under episcopal oversight has remained to this day. While much of this narration might be completely irrelevant to you facing particular questions about your future at this time, we ignore it at our peril: if for no other reason that lurking in the origin is a very domestic image – the home. Within the word ‘Diocese’ is the Greek word for house or household ‘Oikos’. So there is a family dimension to this issue, and I will return to that in a little while. Perhaps a question then is, how do we make this ‘house’ a home?

When it comes to understanding the history and shape of the Anglican church in these islands, something very apparent presents itself. We have overlapping episcopal jurisdictions! Actually this even goes beyond

our own denominational boundaries. As you might see even above, my own Diocese combines two bishoprics, as well as overlapping with Te Manawa o Te Wheke and Te Upoko o te Ika.

This photograph was taken on Saturday at Raungaiti Marae near Matamata where +Ngarahu invited me to assist with ordinations; what a wonderful day! On Monday ++Philip and I had to go to a meeting with +Ngarahu in Rotorua, which is in Te Manawa o Te Wheke, but also in Waiapu. Actually apparently Ruth saw us in Rotorua airport, which just goes to show you how small a world we really live in! I had thought I should text +Andrew to let him know we were on his patch; but I didn’t, I didn’t think he’d mind actually, I was in and out in a few hours, and as far as I know we don’t operate a tracking device which sets off alarms and a rapid response team when we cross into another episcopal jurisdiction!

I also work with my RC colleague, the Bishop of Hamilton, Bishop Steve Lowe, and his Diocese extends

beyond my own boundaries into Waiapu. And then of course Waikato & Taranaki has two bishops!

So already we are doing things here that are creative. So already, I suggest to you, we are inclined to think of Diocese in a more creative way than ecclesiastical history might suggest. Now it used to be the case, that Bishops would fight over Diocesan boundaries; I like to think we are beyond that nowadays, but we still live with a very clear protocol around those boundaries, and indeed debates in the Anglican Communion over the place of women and over issues of human sexuality have often found some resolution in alternative episcopal oversight, flying bishops and the like, all of which again suggest a more fluid approach to what diocese is all about

So What is Diocese ?So far so good, and I hope you are all still with me?! At this point if you have just woken up you will look at this slide and possibly feel a bit of a Dr Who time-shift. Hang on, haven’t we seen this one before, have I missed something?! Well that’s not a bad perspective, because in this next section I want us to raise our heads upwards for a moment.

“There’s a lot of things you need to get across this universe. Warp drive… wormhole refractors… You know the thing you need most of all? You need a hand to hold.”— The Doctor, Season 6, Episode 6

I have had practically a lifetime’s fascination with the night sky. It was my father who inspired my love of astronomy. Although I do remember being asked when I was about 7 by a family friend: ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ to which I replied confidently, ‘an astrologer’! I seem to remember my mother clearing her throat loudly and correcting me (as the only child of a minister that possibly wasn’t the best career path from a familial point of view?!!More recently, I have enjoyed using an App on my phone to watch the International Space Station fly overhead. It always amazes me to see the distinct pin point of light (made so by the rays of the sun reflected on the Station’s solar panels), moving at a speed of 27,000km/h, taking an hour and a half to orbit the earth speeding overhead and knowing that there are up to 6 human beings up there. A few years ago, the Canadian astronaut and space station commander, Chris Hadfield gained quite a following on Twitter as he posted the most incredible photographs of the earth taken from his perspective 400km up.

I remember one evening, and this was when we lived in Auckland, going outside to wave at the Space Station. I decided to send a tweet, and was amazed when I little while later I got this response

When I was back in England for a visit earlier this year, I went to a talk that Chris Hadfield gave about his time in space and what he had learnt. I was intrigued by his stressing the importance of ‘sweating the small stuff’. Quite often we are used to hearing the opposite, that we shouldn’t be anxious about the little things, rather focus on the big picture. And this got me thinking about the detail of Diocesan and parish boundaries; remember what I said about every blade of grass being part of the care of souls and creation?During his talk, Chris Hadfield showed one of the thousands of photographs that he had taken from space

and I wanted to stand up and shout in the packed theatre, ‘that’s part of my patch’!It is true that things viewed from above, look very different than they do on the ground

In case you are thinking, this is all very well, but how is this helpful to our reflecting on what is Diocese?Well, one thing that Chris Hadfield talks about is attitude. In his book ‘An Astronaut’s guide to life on earth’ he writes this:

“In space flight, “attitude” refers to orientation: which direction your vehicle is pointing relative to the Sun, Earth and other spacecraft. If you lose control of your attitude, two things happen: the vehicle starts to tumble and spin, disorienting everyone on board, and it also strays from its course, which, if you’re short on time or fuel, could mean the difference between life and death. In the Soyuz, for example, we use every cue from every available source—periscope, multiple sensors, the horizon—to monitor our attitude constantly and adjust if necessary. We never want to lose attitude, since maintaining attitude is fundamental to success……In my experience, something similar is true on Earth. Ultimately, I don’t determine whether I arrive at the desired professional destination. Too many variables are out of my control. There’s really just one thing I can control: my attitude during the journey, which is what keeps me feeling steady and stable, and what keeps me headed in the right direction. So I consciously monitor and correct, if necessary, because losing attitude would be far worse than not achieving my goal.”

There is some wisdom in this for us at this time; not in a naively hopeful sort of way, but as a reminder that our attitude is to be faithful; sometimes that will involve manoeuvres that seem risky; a bit like a spacecraft hurtling through the sky upon its descent to earth. Yet by keeping the right attitude (which I suggest is more than just emotional engagement, it is about how we present ourselves physically so that what we say and do matches what we think) we can remain faithful to God’s mission. And sometimes we need to look up before we look down. Rob Bell, the Christian evangelist and author talks about walking along a path, complaining its too muddy, and failing the acknowledge the walls of water on either side that have been held back for your liberation

So, remember to look up and around; less eyes down and more eyes up.

“What do you mean ‘it’s a bit muddy’?”

What is Diocese?

In this second part of my talk, I have been trying to get you to do one simple thing:To keep your attitude in the right perspective; remember that is a whole body thing, not just what we feel in our hearts.In the third and final section, before I set you on your group activity, I want to bring us back down to earth…and this resonantes with something that +Kelvin said this morning:

My friend +Stephen Pickard, who is the Director of the Australian Centre for Christianity and Culture which is based at St Mark’s National Theological College in Canberra once told me the story of when was in a rush to get through immigration in Australia because he had a domestic flight to catch. He presented his documents to the immigration official who after studying them for a few moments said to him: ‘Minister of Religion’? +Stephen replied ‘yes’ (aware that he was now in the spotlight and simply HAD to be patient)…then the official said something quite unexpected to him: ‘Have you got any advice?’ By this stage, +Stephen was so desparate to move on that he replied: ‘yes, it’s big’ and with that, grabbed hold of his documents and made a hasty dash for the exit!Part of the difficulty with trying to answer the question about what is a diocese, is that it is big, and literally so. My own Diocese covers some 27,000 sq km; Dunedin covers almost 66,000 sq km. That’s huge!

You might be familiar with the Monty Python film, ‘The Life of Brian’? There’s a scene in it where the characters ask the question: ‘what have the Romans ever done for us?’You might hear: what has the Diocese ever done for us?!I wonder whether you either hear that question asked, or even ask it yourselves sometimes?!

One of my favourite Gospel stories takes place in John 21; I find myself resonating with Peter who says to the disciples ‘I am going fishing’ to which they all reply ‘we will go with you.’ All too often we find ourselves drawn into routine, and the Church can be like that – yet something unexpected breaks into that. The veil can be lifted, and God breaks through. The Church in every generation is confronted by questions of identity, and there are plenty of books out there that can help with that. The so-called ‘identity-industry’ can sometimes be fruitful, sometimes fruitless. Identity and relevance are two important and linked questions: who are we? how do we speak now? It is tempting to be more relevant, but we shouldn’t do that at the cost of losing what we ought to cherish. The more you seek to be contemporary without recognising your inheritance, the risk you have of losing what makes us relevant in the first place. So a hint of caution here: Diocese is part of the inherited furniture; abandon it at your peril; yet by all means think about it in a more creative, more energised way.What makes us relevant in the first place is

The incarnation.

John puts it this way: ‘God pitched his tent in our midst’ (literally God tabernacled in our midst).There is therefore a great significance from the church’s own perspective of place. The incarnation happened in a specific place, at a specific time.Have you ever heard the word ‘glocalisation’? This was a word coined at a seminar in Edinburgh some years ago between theologians and environmentalists. The word essentially refers to global trends experienced in local contexts. I find it a helpful way of thinking about the Anglican Communion, and the challenges and complexity of living out faith in the midst of cultural shifts. But there’s more to it than just that, and it’s all bound up in our inheritance of living with the ancient texts that make up our BibleNote how often in the Bible the four-fold ‘every tribe, and language and people and nation’ occurs (especially in Genesis 10; Daniel 4.1, 7.13-14; Revelation 5.9, 7.9, 10.11, 11.19, 13.7, 14.6 and 17.15): a universalist language that is specific in belonging. So all humanity in its orientation to the global has an inherent unity of the human race and ‘a common home’ on the earth

This is a point ably articulated by British Rabbi Sir Jonathan Sacks, in his 2007 book The Home we Build Together. Sacks argues that society needs to rediscover covenantal and civic values, bringing the distinctive gifts of different groups to the common good. By analogy, the Diocese is that which we build together, bringing the distinctive gifts of different parishes, ministry units, schools, chaplaincies to the common good. Remember that at the root of the word ‘Diocese’ is the work ‘oikia’: house or household.

There are, I’d like to suggest 3 ways in which we can think about the a Diocese.1) Firstly, let’s think about Diocese as geographic, and the significance of that for identity and belonging. What we must not do here, is map out a sort of cartographic spiritualty whereby we end up saying ‘this is my space and not yours’! If you look at the history of cartography, it was really all about defining territory that meant in value terms: ‘this belongs to me, and not to you’. So the Roman legions drew maps to identify and mark out and defend their territory. It’s exactly the same principal at work in the creation of Diocesan boundaries (except unlike Bishops of old) we don’t tend to raise armies to defend our areas! Well maybe not real ones anyway! There is however also a so-called ‘fourth dimension’ in cartography, and this is what goes on in the cartographer’s mind – whatever is decided on to be included or excluded! Yet such demarcation works against the complexities of who we are as people, and this affects gender and identity too. There is something very important about not losing the geographic aspect of the identity of Diocese, particularly because within the world-view of Scripture the relationship between nature and human action is shaped predominantly, though not exclusively by the covenant tradition. And here we are back to Rabbi Sacks’ notion of what it means to be in covenant with one another; to that I would what it means to be also in covenant with the landscape of which we are a part. God asks Job a question at 39.26-30: ‘Is it by your wisdom that the hawk soars?’Towards the end of her book ‘H is for Hawk, Helen Macdonald says this: ‘of all the lessons I’ve learned in my months with Mabel (the name of the hawk that she had been training) this is the greatest of all: that there is a world of things out there – rocks, and trees, and stones, and grass, and all the things that crawl and fly and run and fly. They are things in themselves, but we make them sensible to us by giving them

meanings that shore up our own views of the world. in my time with Mabel I’ve learned how you feel more human once you have known, even in your imagination, what it is like to be not.’ 2) Secondly, Diocese as legal – what are we responsible for? There is a sense of order – you cannot have bishops wandering in to another bishop’s area of responsbility (granted that because of our unique Tikanga system, we do have an element of that, but we also have a way of working joyfully within that. On Saturday for example I was delighted to participate in ordinations held on a Marae in my area of the Diocese but within Te Manawa o Te Wheke). Yet let’s not abandon order. Order is about reflecting God in a way of life that takes responsibility not only for oneself but for the welfare of others. Again, as with the first point, there is a danger in over-emphasis; in this case, with legalism and a kind of officiousness which is a misuse of power.3) Thirdly, Diocese as pastoral – and this is all about how we tend to things. To tend is part of ‘attend’ – so the word episcope is found in Luke 1.68 and 1.78 in the prophecy of Zechariah, indicating a way of oversight that is attending but is tending. It is not a grudging ‘I am sharing this with you’ but rather in the office of the bishop as a leader who invites us to share in her or his caring for others and the world. It is hospitality, it is being observant, rather than keeping under observation. This is the way back to the significance of law as order – to be observant is to be mindful, having responsibility, and then to the geographic since this tending and being responsible can only be done in particulars and specifics of context, place and location.Diocese needs to fall into the ground and become humus, earth, from this place the church must confront its failings and grow again, one step at a time. Remember, the word as a lamp unto my feet, not a searchlight or a floodlight, but a lamp, one step at a time.

This exercise is about models of church, but my hunch is that it can work on a bigger scale too, in that if you do it together, there is a chance that you will begin to get a picture about what is important to you together, as part of the Diocesan fabric. So I am asking you to do this in small groups, with all the different perspectives that you bring as individuals, to the whole.So I am going to give you 6 models of church, which may reflect significant ways in which we may understand what the church means to us. The task is to put them in order of our own preference. Now boundaries between the models will likely be porous, and that will be part of your interesting discussion! I suggest you take notes now in brief covering what I say.So, the models are:

• Institution• Servant• Herald• Sacrament• Mystical Communion• Community of Disciples

Institution:This reflects a sense of the visibility of the church and the benefits of its organisational presence. It will value the particular authority that is expressed through teaching and ordering its membership, and will place an emphasis on appropriate values and beliefs held by those who belong to it.

Servant:Sets the world before us, not only as the arena for mission but as the place of God’s presence already there, and the choice place of His love. This model respects the autonomy of the world and its cultures. It affirms that the church does not exist for itself, but for the world into which God is calling it. But equally it affirms that as servant the church has something the world requires. It is an offering of something on the part of the church, although the church is not the Kingdom, nor an extension of the Incarnation in any absolutist sense.

Herald:Draws upon the symbolism of embassy, ambassadorial presence, and the speech-act communication of God’s Word, through embodied presence. It involves a sense of calling in being given a commission, and in

being sent into all the world in the power of the Spirit. This gives, or should give, the church a radical freedom to discover itself in each and every circumstance of the world. It also recognises that to be herald is to engage tangibly with daily life, which lies at the heart of any sending in an ambassadorial sense.

Sacramental:The sacramental model of the church is significant because of the Christian belief that the materiality of our world is suffused with the presence and Spirit of God. There is no division between sacred and secular, and all creation is a means of grace. In light of this, whether the church itself is a sacrament is something that is debateable. But the sacramental view that the church holds affirms that the very fabric of life is symbolic or iconic of the divine. It is the church that celebrates the sacraments of Baptism and the Eucharist, which reveal and point forward to the fulfilment of God’s glory ever breaking in all around us.

Mystical Communion:The church as mystical communion has certain affinities with the sacramental dimension. It values an emphasis on belonging together. Hence, in the NT, the church can be likened to a household, an organic image that evokes a sense of family. As the church came to develop this idea, it laid emphasis on an unseen, underlying bond, as of a mystery that extends though space and time, that holds everything together. Hence is came to speak of itself as a ‘mystical body.’ The difficulty of course is that where the church is divided, it strains the credibility of an underlying unity. Or again, there is the danger of a turn inward to make the church into some kind of sect of the like-minded. Nevertheless, rightly understood, the mystical communion of the church is fundamentally the shared experience of the Spirit, which draws the church onward into all, to discover and make visible the bonds of love and peace in witness to a disordered world.

Community of Disciples:The community of disciples model of the church grounds itself in a simple sense of sharing in Jesus’ ministry as Christ-likeness. And it looks to speak about and share this with others both within and beyond the church. This model values being Spirit led and especially in seeking after how the variety of the gifts of the Spirit are to be brought under the unifying purpose of the fruit of the Spirit (note the singular there!). There will be an overall wish to ‘hold all things in common’ and a consciousness of presenting an alternative lifestyle in a visible witness ‘ as a city set on a hill.’

Don’t want you to choose one, I want you to put them in order of what is most important…