Saturday, May 19, 2012

Cardinal failing of the Kirk (Contribution)

AS the General Assembly begins, Stephen McGinty argues that the Church of Scotland should actively consider appointing a new Moderator at the end of session to carry forth its message for a year in office.

WHEN Thomas Winning became the first Catholic to address the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland on 21 May, 1975, he decided it would be prudent to leave the mitre, crook and rich robes of a metropolitan archbishop in the closet. Instead the archbishop of Glasgow wore, for the final time, his black tonsure suit, an austere black coat that fastened at the throat but was open across the chest. Conscious of Presbyterian distaste for ostentation, he even removed his pectoral cross.

For centuries Heaven was a garden surrounded by the high walls of the Catholic Church, accessible only through its gates, with the unwitting followers of other reformed faiths, regardless of how good their lives, bound for Hell. Or so the Church staunchly believed. Yet, 60 years ago, the Second Vatican Council cast open the windows and let light and sounder judgment illuminate fresher, more tolerable ideas.

In 1964, the publication of Unitatis Redintegratio, a decree on ecumenicism, permitted just such a meeting, with the Catholic Church also finally recognising the redemptive nature of the reformed faiths, while still holding on to the theological certainty that they offered the surest, swiftest route: an express elevator over trudging up the stairs. 

It was in this context that Winning nervously approached the podium, fearful that Pastor Jack Glass, the leader of the Twentieth-Century Reformation Movement, would heckle his speech and unaware that Church officials had discreetly prevented his entry. 

Conscious that this was the first official meeting in 400 years, Winning framed his speech in the words of reconciliation: “What do brothers say to one another after years, and, in our cases, centuries of estranged silence? Surely they ask forgiveness.”

The speech concluded with ministers stamping their feet in support and the Moderator, the Rt Rev Dr James Matheson, quoting John Wesley in his response: “I don’t say come to my side nor draw me to thine. But if my heart is now thy heart in the love of Christ, then give me thy hand.” 

At the time, the mid-70s and for the next 20 years, Winning was jealous of the Church of Scotland. He was covetous of the status enjoyed by each Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland as he toured the Palace of Holyroodhouse and enjoyed official meetings with the Scottish Secretary at Dover House in London. 

Doors which Winning perceived as being firmly closed to Catholics. 

To his mind, Glasgow Cathedral was “stolen property”, booty from the Reformation and his ambition was to restore, if not the Cathedral, then the Catholic Church to its position as the genuine voice of Christianity in Scotland. It can certainly be argued that Winning won, particularly, if you exchange “genuine” for “loudest”.

I would argue, and many members of the Church of Scotland would agree, that when it comes to articulating the concerns of Christians, Winning and his successor, Keith O’Brien have proved more successful than Scotland’s established Church. They certainly secured more press and TV coverage. 

This week a newspaper ran a front page story on the retirement of Archbishop Mario Conti and his possible successor, Philip Tartaglia, Bishop of Paisley. It has been a long time since the appointment of a new Moderator was deemed worthy of the “splash”.

So I’d like you to consider this column a version of Hugh MacDiarmid’s A Drunk Man Looks At The Thistle but shaped as ‘a sober Catholic looks at the Church of Scotland’. Many may yet consider them the scribblings of an inebriate, but they are written with great affection. 

There is so much to admire in the Church of Scotland. 

First there is its scale which, though diminished, would still be the envy of any political party with over 500,000 members, 40,000 elders and 1,000 ministers. There is no football team that can motivate over 100,000 supporters to turn up each week. 

Second, there is the social care of children, families and particularly the elderly, a tradition which began, formally, in 1869 and continues to this day, no doubt to the church’s financial loss, but spiritual gain. Then there is the love and understanding of scripture and the Bible and, at least in my limited experience, the quality of the Sunday sermons.

Then we come to the annual General Assembly, which begins today, one week each year when the church speaks, debates issues and comes to new conclusions. 

As I said at the beginning, it is 60 years since the Catholic Church had any such debate and maybe centuries before the next. If Winning was once covetous of the Church of Scotland’s status, I believe Scots Catholics should be covetous of an annual Assembly. 

Maybe then Catholic historians wouldn’t be in such an uproar about the plans, spearheaded by Conti to split up the Catholic Archives and sell off the Edinburgh property. There would have been a proper debate rather than what critics claim was a fait accompli to secure one man’s legacy.

However, there is a problem. The power the General Assembly once wielded and the impact it could have has diminished greatly in the past 20 years. 

It has been well documented that in the years prior to devolution, and particularly, during the premiership of Margaret Thatcher, the General Assembly could act as a quasi-parliament articulating the views of the nation. 

Now, we have the Scottish Parliament to not only raise concerns but implement policy, so it is little wonder that the General Assembly appears diminished. (If it is any comfort the following is a list of Scottish institutions that have also gone into sharp decline since 1999: RBS, HBOS, Rangers FC and the newspaper industry.)

There is, however, a suggestion I would like to make: elevate the role of the Moderator, extend his or her term to four years and invest the role with a degree of accountable power. 

At the moment the general public is introduced to a new Moderator every 12 months; a man, but sometimes a woman, of whom the public will know next to nothing and be largely none the wiser when they shuffle off 12 months later. 

It seems to me that the success of the Church of Scotland is the truly democratic manner in which it can operate and there is no reason why, if the majority of presbyteries were willing, that the Church of Scotland should not have a public face capable of articulating its position, as decided at the general assembly, on issues of the day.

I appreciate that the actual role of the Moderator is to chair the General Assembly, but it seems to me odd that he or she is thrust into the most difficult part of their year in office at the very beginning. There are those within the Church who argue that it would make more sense to have the new Moderator take over on the final day of the General Assembly, which would allow them to help shape the agenda for the next year with the Assembly as the climax of their term.

This week Rowan Williams, the retiring Archbishop of Canterbury, will address the General Assembly, and, with his grey-flecked beard, bushy eye-brows and towering intellect (which, at times, has certainly toppled over and landed him in trouble: sharia law, anyone?) he has been a passionate advocate for Christianity. Eloquent, nimble of mind and reasonable of tone, he engenders respect among believers and unbelievers alike. 

While it is a ridiculous notion that he is appointed by the Prime Minister, and no-one would wish to see the First Minister have such a hand in Scotland, I don’t see why the Church of Scotland couldn’t elect its own public face and empower him to speak for the Church. 

The public can better identify with a single person and should they choose an impassioned individual and gifted orator, one capable of conveying the beauty and majesty of Christ’s message, they could at best boost Church attendance or, at worse, better manage decline.

Yet to do so would arguably mean a flow of power from the heads of the Church of Scotland’s various committees to the newly empowered Moderator and perhaps it would not be possible to hack through the vested interests. It is naive to believe that power within the Church of Scotland is not held in certain hands where it will, no doubt, stay.

I do not expect the Church to depart and, unlike Tom Nairn, have no wish to see the last minister strangled with the last copy of the Sunday Post. I think the Church’s motto is a testament to its longevity: nec tamen consumebatur; “Yet it was not consumed”. 

But what the Church of Scotland has repeatedly demonstrated over the past four centuries is that a few determined individuals can bring about even the biggest changes. 

As John Knox would surely have argued, all it takes is courage and faith.