There is a throne in Canterbury Cathedral called the Chair of St
Augustine.
It is the chair on which the new Archbishop of Canterbury will be
seated when he begins his ministry.
Named after the first Archbishop of Canterbury, it conveys the authority
and responsibilities of the role to the new Archbishop and the Anglican
Church. It is an ancient throne, one of
oldest in existence, and when the new Archbishop is seated upon it, the Church
of England will have a new leader.
I first became aware of its power some years ago when I was part
of a small group who went to talk to Rowan Williams about the mess the church
has got itself into on sexuality. We met
in the Archbishop in Lambeth Palace. We
met him in the hope that we could persuade him to be more proactive in promoting
a new spirit of openness. We met him
hoping to re-awaken those things which he knew to be true about the gift of God
at work in people of the same sex who love each other.
We should have been pushing at an open door. Rowan Williams had gone on the record many
times before he was appointed Archbishop of Canterbury in support of greater
openness, acceptance and inclusion.
But as our conversation developed, it became clear that no such
commitment would be forthcoming. Time
and time again, he referred to his role as the present occupant of the Chair of
St Augustine. He talked of the weight of
history and responsibility which the occupant of that Chair carries. He talked about the need to preserve what he
had been given – what had been entrusted to him. He talked about his role as Archbishop in
terms of being a guardian. He told us
that what he thought (as an individual) was irrelevant because his job as Archbishop
was to hold together the great responsibility which the occupant of the Seat of
St Augustine is given.
Our hearts sank. We had
hoped to meet with an anointed leader for the future - instead we found a guardian
of the past. We had met someone who had
been called to leadership because of his great gifts – but then neutered by the
power of the institution which had called him – the power behind the throne.
I have seen it before…
I saw it at work among the Church Commissioners when fighting to
preserve affordable social housing in the Octavia Hill Estates which they owned
and managed. When I met them as
individuals, I met thoughtful genuine Christians keen to listen and engage. But when I met them as an institution,
entrusted only with maximising profits, a very different persona emerged. The power of the institution had overtaken
them – they had become ‘institutionalised’ – only able to act in the way which
was expected of them, putting money first and people second.
I have also experienced the corrupting power of the institution at
first hand - the subtle pressure to behave in a particular way contrary to
personal conviction. I experienced it
when I was a member of the OICCU Exec – the committee which ran the Oxford
University Christian Union. I was asked
to take on the role of Outreach Secretary – to encourage and enable evangelism. I came full of hope for what we might be able
to do together – with fresh ideas, hopes and expectations, but I was naïve
about the power of the institution.
Before we started our work, we were all taken away for the weekend
by UCCF to be trained for the vital role we had been given. We were reminded that we were being entrusted
with a weighty responsibility – the continuation of many years of faithful
evangelical witness to the University.
We were reminded of the tools we were to work with – the Bible and the
Doctrinal Basis. We were told
that if we did our job properly, we would ensure that the next generation of
leaders in the UK were Evangelical Christians who would, in turn, ensure that
we continued to be a Christian Country (what a pretentious heresy that
was!) Our role was not to bring
innovation or change – it was to continue the work of those who had been before
and to defend OICCU against error and compromise.
And I have to say that I was taken in. The criteria for our decisions became not
‘what seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us’ (Acts 15:28) It was to do what was expected of
us.
I remember the moment when this dawned on me.
It was when we voted to revoke an invitation to one of the most
gifted and fruitful evangelists in Oxford - Canon Michael Green – because he
would not sign our Doctrinal Basis of Faith.
His preaching had brought many hundreds of students in Oxford to faith
in Christ. He went on to be Professor
of Evangelism at Regents College Vancouver, and came back to lead the Archbishops
Springboard for Evangelism. He wrote
over 50 books on Christian apologetics and evangelism, but he wasn’t good
enough to speak at our precious Christian Union because he would not conform
himself to the expectations of our institution.
We had allowed ourselves to become institutionalised.
As the Crown Nominations Commission meets this week to decide who
the next Archbishop of Canterbury will be, I can honestly say that I don’t know
who should be appointed. But unless it
is someone who is strong enough to resist the power of the institution, I am
also tempted to say that it doesn’t really matter.
What we need is an Archbishop who is courageous enough to lead us
in the way of Christ.
Jesus was no
defender of the institution. He refused
to be boxed in, channelled or handled.
His concern was to bring new life – not preserve old structures, and he
would not be manipulated into meeting the expectations of others.
And that is the Archbishop I am praying for…
