Participants were overwhelmingly positive about their Congregational experiences, and very loyal.
Knowing this, I nevertheless asked them whether they felt that there were any deficiencies and problems associated with the Congregational heritage, and gave them a list of possible areas for consideration.
My suggestions are in bold type.
Here are their replies:
A lack of darkness, mystery and depth in belief?
We found mystery and awe in evening services. There was not a strong emphasis on darkness, sin and guilt which I don’t regret, said one participant, very reasonably. Reading her reply, I realised how badly I had framed the question.
When I wrote it, I had in mind the concept of dazzling darkness which is found in negative theology of the mediaeval Pseudo-Dionysius, which is drawn from the Old Testament image of Moses coming near to the “thick darkness where God was” (Ex. 20:21) on Mt Sinai, and returning from his encounter with God with a face so dazzling that he had to veil it to prevent discomfort to those who came near him (Ex 34:29−35).
In speaking of mystery, I was thinking of these words of Elizabeth Johnson in She Who Is:
"So transcendent, so immanent is the holy mystery of God that we can never wrap our minds completely around this mystery and exhaust divine reality in words or concepts. The history of theology is replete with this truth: recall Augustine’s insight that if we have understood, then what we have understood is not God; Anselm’s argument that God is that than which nothing greater can be conceived; Hildegarde’s vision of God’s glory as living Light that blinded her sight; Aquinas’s working rule that we can know that God is and what God is not, but not what God is; Luther’s stress on the hiddenness of God’s glory in the shame of the cross; Simone Weil’s conviction that there is nothing that resembles what she can conceive of when she says the word God; Sallie McFague’s insistence on imaginative leaps into metaphor since no language about God is adequate and all of it is improper. It is a matter of the livingness of God" (7).
Participants did not miss this aspect of theology in Congregationalism. But it is possible that some have never encountered it, so they cannot make the comparison.
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Ignorance of the rich tradition of the first 1700 years of the Church, (a Protestant problem generally)?
One participant stated:
Throughout the Christian Era, there has been a stream of piety that—in my view—finds its ultimate flowering in Congregationalism. Nevertheless, as the questionnaire suggests, there is a danger that we may forget the riches of the pre-Reformation Christian heritage . . .
Another commented:
The ordained clergy fully-trained in the Congregational Theological College, while understanding that there was only one Christian Church until the Reformation, emphasised post-Reformation developments. There remained in Australia until long after Vatican II a deep divide between Catholic and Protestant Christians. I am sad to relate that some Catholics as well as some Protestants, were very divisive on this issue of “other” Christians.
Ah yes. But, as the previous participant acknowledged, pre-Reformation spirituality, liturgy and theology is not Catholic, but Christian, the heritage of the Church Universal, of Catholics and Protestants as well.
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A lack of sacramentality?
Congregationalists celebrated two sacraments, baptism and the Eucharist, know in Congregationalism as Holy Communion.
I, like many Congregationalists, was taught that a sacrament is “an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace.” In adulthood, I came to find this definition inadequate. I now believe that in taking the Eucharist bread, we are fed by God; the bread is more than merely a sign of God’s constant nurture.
One participant shared this concern, even as she recognised the strengths of the Congregational emphasis:
I have changed in my understanding of the Lord’s Supper. In the Congregational church family we met around the table. We sat in the pews and the deacons served us. In the ceremony there was a sense of remembrance rather than of the sacramental. Now in the Uniting Church the minister has the role of priest; we have gained, but we have lost the idea of the minister as shepherd or servant.
The definition of the sacramental which we were taught in Congregationalism is not enough. We now have a more adequate understanding of the total sacredness of the sacramental.
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The hymn sandwich: a lack of shape in the liturgy?
One minister replied:
At Camden College the Principal was recently arrived from England where he had been involved in the liturgical revival in that country and elsewhere. He imparted to me a love of liturgical and sacramental worship, which has never left me. I feel that it was sadly lacking in Australian Congregationalism.
A layman stated:
Looking back to the years 1963-76, I feel that the liturgy was over-simplified. Quite formal, and predictable and certainly always respectful to God, absolutely no question, but liturgically-speaking, somehow, sometimes, “barren”.
And another minister has this to say:
But our attention to ritual leaves some other denominations with questions in their minds.I remember Geoff Barnes at the Assembly about 1968 in Sydney. He said, “You know, we have the reputation that our patron saint is St Rafferty because of our lack of seriousness about the legal, ritualistic and formal aspects of church life which are so much more important to other people."
Not all participants saw this as a concern:
The hymn sandwich is part of a whole, part of the mysticism in Congregational thinking. I see Dr Swan, looking out into the distance, taking his time. He had an understanding of things that were spiritual. I didn’t get that sense in the Uniting Church . . . I’m a Quaker now.
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The minister's role: Was it hard to minister where authority rested with deacons and members too?
A very able layman made this comment:
The minister has a very tough job in the dissenting churches. He doesn't - thank heaven - have the overarching authority of other polities , but nevertheless is expected to lead the church both inside the building and outside. But against this he (or she) may have to work with dominant personalities who may have to be kept more or less on side. It is not surprising therefore that new recruits may not always be that plentiful.
One church I attended had a minister who was a gentle and cultivated person but with no great talent for preaching nor very strong intelligence, whilst in the congregation there were several people of immense capability, who though fine people in every way often found it difficult to work with someone markedly inferior in everything except vocation. I expect the Catholic and Anglican traditions do not experience these sorts of problems to the same degree (although 'The Vicar of Dibley' has a bit of this). One might say that this is not the best way to run a business.
And a minister spoke wryly:
Anyone whose aspiration is to rule over others will face the challenge of the Gospel, since the task of all Christians is to ‘seek the mind of Christ’. If I have ever felt that I possessed ‘authority’ as a minister, I was soon disillusioned. The pastoral role is a much more subtle business.
But one participant showed how an appreciative acceptance from the laity helped the minister to be all that he could be for the Church. Nevertheless, she did not turn off her discerning mind.
Learning to appreciate the different talents of a minister was also a good experience. Following on from Rev Doug, who was such a good all-rounder- well-presented sermons that even kept the young people awake, good pastoral care, and the ability to work well with all age groups- came Gordon Jones. His pastoral care was fantastic, he exuded good humour, was relaxed, had some innovative ideas, and had a good sense of fun. His sermon delivery was a bit hard for young folk to follow, although his message was good if you could concentrate past the rather tense delivery. He was appreciated for being very sincere, caring, supportive and dedicated.
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Middle-class morality in action: Were we merely nice and respectable? Or did clearly-defined boundaries create a space in which love would grow?
In framing this question, I thought of the secure world which was mine as a child, a world in which what the neighbours thought was important to my parents, and decorous behaviour was expected in a middle-class suburb.
This was a world in which it was known that Mrs Daff always had her washing on the line before 8 am on Mondays, that Mrs Ashton could iron a shirt impeccably, that Mrs Thorburn was sometimes still wearing a dressing-gown when it was nearly time for lunch. Was our Christian behaviour more deeply motivated than a desire to conform in this world, I wondered?
One participant shamed me by his thoughtful response; he showed me the importance of the mores which I had dismissed as merely middle-class, and then he went deeper into the issue, to speak of what is proper, caring, and decent, what is apt, enlightened and appropriate.
Niceness and respectability? he wrote. Well, this is always a challenge to any sincere Christian. Niceness and respectability can often be worthwhile outcomes of the personal spiritual discipline of sincere and devout believers over their lifetimes, in fact “keeping the tone up” is one extremely good by-product of sincere belief and worship in community.
What I say to myself—sometimes I pray about this—is that we do not know what all the “nice and respectable” people’s lives are like all the time, nor do we know that even (dare I say it) lapsed Christians do not, or did not, exercise gifts sometimes pleasing to God.
In regard to formal ministry and decent Christian standards, my views now are that any Church running so smoothly that there is no conflict, no problem, no challenge, is also not totally REAL, and that the encouragement and exhortation and support for AIMING towards the ideal of Jesus’ perfect life is for spiritual uplift and example, it is not a call to emulate Him. (Technically this could be blasphemous, and may also result in “the men in the white coats” visiting more often than we want.) However, to not acknowledge Jesus’ example and try to follow His way (and Torah teaching) means we would have less to aim for, lower our standards too much, and certainly would not make the effort we can make, so this teaching once gained, and leavened with age-suitable appropriate counsel through life, can lead to a fuller maturity in our Christian personhood.
In short, taken seriously and not overdone, or mocked, proper ministry to us enables proper ministry by us to others, and a more caring, decent and hopefully more tolerant wider community.
No-one in my church or school upbringing taught me, “Only tell people the good things,” or “Tell everybody all your problems.” What they taught me, as much by example as by words, was “Whatever you do, do it in the name of Him who is Lord.” My father taught me, “Do good, wherever you can,” not as a do-gooder, but in an apt, enlightened, and appropriate manner. So much of Christian teaching really has influenced the way I would dearly love my life to be, yet, as the Lord’s Prayer so often brings to mind, how often do I (even now) fall short of that Godly goal. (But I do not walk around all the time with a heavy heart because of this.)
Another participant addressed this question with true Congregational directness:
I believe that Congregationalists of my youth did see themselves as preservers of middle-class morality, he stated,and occasionally wish that they were still around.
Two people spoke of their wish now to move past the middle class emphasis and to include all of God’s people within the Church:
The old man who sat in the front row of our church was not conforming. He was poor, and had shabby clothes. He was a great fan of the minister, and sat in the front row so that he could hear. This led to mutterings, and questions about why this tramp should sit in the front row of the church. I would have liked to say, ‘Surely people like this are the Church too’, but I found it hard to do,’ stated one woman.
And a South Australian man has this to say:
One problem which the Uniting Church has to tackle properly is to get away from its being regarded as a middle class church. Aubrey Stevens spent five years ministering to Hindmarsh church, Adelaide in the depression years, through the church and the Wyclif Mission and later in Sydney in the Redfern, Surry Hills and Waterloo missions during the war. There was fine relationship between the church and the people there.
It's my firm belief that a church should be like an iceberg with possibly only 10% of its impact being through its Sunday services and surrounding activities and the rest through its involvement in the community, without thought of proselytising. The churches I have just cited did this, and I am pleased to see that my present church, Clayton-Wesley, is going the same way.
Prayer: Did we pray?
Yes, we prayed, stated one participant.Yes. Yes. Yes, we did, replied three others.
One stated:
We were always a praying church. All deacons prayed with the minister before a service. There were weekly prayer meetings. We had learned to pray in CE and corporate prayer has always been strong in my experience.
Another stated:
From a young age we were taught to pray; then developed our own commitment to prayer and reading the Bible. We tried to discern the will of God . . .
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The will of God: Did we surrender ourselves and all we had, going forward in faith?
One participant replied:
I am 87 years of age, and have survived many tragedies in my lifetime. Each morning before I rise, I pass the day over to God, and ask for guidance and help, just for that day.
At the close of each day I look back, and find where the Lord has really helped me through the rough patches.
I NEVER forget to say "Thank You Lord" for helping me.
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And several final comments . . .
I do not recall learning much about our Congregational past. Perhaps I was not paying attention!
In my youth the devotional life of Congregationalism was undernourished. Even today, I find it necessary to belong to ‘Stillpoint’, an Ecumenical devotional community offering retreats and Quiet Days.
The weakness in Congregationalism in general, was the autonomy of each congregation. If you were strong and had sensitive and enlightened deacons and ministers you had a vibrant church community. Even small Congregational churches achieved vibrant church communities in many cases. But there was no Presbytery minister to assist with weak congregations.
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Next: Chapter 19. Wisdom's Words
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