AD CLERUM - July 2004

My Dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ

In his book, "In Search of a Way," Gerald Hughes describes a visit to Taize, France where he found himself wondering why it was that so many churches are almost empty except for a small faithful core of elderly people, while Taize which is in a remote corner of France cannot accommodate the thousands of young people who come from all over the world to worship there. The answer, he decided, lies in the loving and welcoming ethos of Taize - a place where the monks "… become, in the words of St Paul, the 'goodness of God'. When this goodness is manifest, it attracts people."

It's all too easy in our ministry, he goes on to say, to blame poor church attendance and the apparent lack of interest in religion on the materialism and permissiveness of our age. People are still interested in religion - witness the explosion of New Age spiritualities - but not in the kind of religion that does not touch our deeper longings. The real obstacle to church-going, he says, is us; people no longer recognise in us the "breadth of Christ's love. When they do see it, they flock in, as at Taize."

His suggestion does, to some extent, explain the phenomenon of Taize, which has had thousands visitors every day for more than 30 years. But it also poses for us the question, "Does our diocese reflect the 'breadth of Christ's love'? Do our parishes reflect the 'breadth of Christ's love'?" Or, to pose the question in another and even more personal way, "To what extent have we, as clergy, become the 'goodness of God'?"

These are hard and painful questions, and especially because in recent weeks I have heard clergy and clergy spouses saying that they cannot really trust anyone, and that is simply saying, in different words, that they do not feel loved, that they have not found in us the 'goodness of God' and the 'breadth of Christ's love.' One clergy wife said to me, "I have no one to talk to about how I feel. I can't talk to my husband because it only provokes an argument. I can't talk to the Bishop, the Archdeacon or any of the clergy because that would be disloyal, and I dare not talk to any of the parishioners. I have no-one I can trust; no one to whom I can turn." Those words are almost an exact echo of words spoken to me by one of the clergy.

Those words, which are echoed to a greater or lesser extent by so many of us, reveal a deep anguish which, in some cases, are rooted in hurts and betrayals that may go back many, many years. The challenge for us is how to break down those barriers of fear and mistrust and to build a diocese in which we can become 'the goodness of God' for others and together experience the 'breadth of Christ's love.'

If that is ever to be anything more than a pious dream it must begin with a deep, personal experience of the 'breadth of Christ's love' for each one of us. That love is the gospel, and we all know it in our heads. But, although we might think we do, we do not all know and believe it in our hearts. Susan had a person coming to her for spiritual direction who spent three months meditating on the love of God before she was able to say, "Now I can move on. Now I know that God loves me, really loves me for who I am, warts and all. Now that I know it, I can trust God's purposes for my life." We all of us need to come to that point of absolute certainty and confidence in the 'breadth of Christ's love.

Only when we feel loved in that way, can we preach the love of God with any real conviction. Only then can we begin to love others unconditionally and accept them for themselves without judgement. Only when we feel loved in that way can our call truly be a vocation of service rather than a career in which we climb the corporate ladder. Only then can we begin to become the 'goodness of God' for others, that irresistible magnet that draws others into the 'breadth of Christ's love.' "We love," says St John, "because he first loved us." We can love, only because he first loved us and still loves us.

For my own part, I long to be the 'goodness of God' to all of you. I try to love you and I pray for you all regularly. We are all unique and precious, we are all broken. I do not 'have it in for any of you,' nor am I 'out to get you.' As far as is possible I do not operate out of any racial or gender prejudices, and I rely on the team structures we have put in place to protect you should I be guilty of any of these things. I have but one passion, to see God's kingdom grow. And I will do everything I can to help you be all that God has called you to be, and to experience more and more the wonderful 'breadth of Christ's love.

May God so touch you that you may know the breadth of Christ's love,

+ Brian

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