My Dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ
While on holiday I read two detective stories by C.J. Sansom; the first set in the time of the dissolution of the English monasteries by Cromwell, the second set 3 years later at the time of his arrest. As detective stories they are unremarkable, but are superb as historical narratives that have been carefully researched and written in a way that vividly, and accurately, portrays life in Tudor England.

Recent scholarship has challenged the once widely accepted view that the Catholic Church in England was so decayed that some sort of radical reformation was both necessary and inevitable. Instead, they argue, the Reformation in England was largely driven by political and economic factors. Sansom's novels follow the current thinking and graphically illustrate the extent to which the process was driven by those in positions of power, and of how religious fervour was fanned into a fanaticism that polarised the society, destroyed the middle ground and allowed for little tolerance of any view but its own. And while the rationale for what was done was almost entirely cloaked in religious language, it was driven far more by personal ambition, political expediency, and economic greed than by any faithfulness to God or desire for God's kingdom.

Even allowing for a significant amount of poetic license, as I read the books I found myself wondering what was really achieved in terms of faith. For all the thousands of people who were burnt for heresy, executed for treason, or whose lives were destroyed in other ways, the post-Reformation church was not noticeably stronger or more faithful. The practices of the church, rather than its doctrine, may have changed, but that change did not lead to greater holiness of living, nor greater love for Christ and others. If anything, the levels of intolerance and the extent of the violence must have unquestionably evoked fear that would have damaged the faith of many. And with the wisdom of historical hindsight, it is clear that much of that religious fanaticism was simply "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

I also found myself wondering what has changed. The conflicts over sexuality that are tearing our Anglican communion apart seem to have much in common with the Tudor reformation. Once again religious fervour is being fanned into a fanaticism that undermines tolerance and love and brooks no contradiction. Yet again, the conflict is couched in religious language that hides a multitude of hidden agendas, personal ambitions, and near naked power struggles. And, as before, the fight is over church practice rather than doctrine, is undermining the faith of many, and may well for future generations evoke the feeling that, for all its sound and fury, for all the hurt it caused, it signified nothing.

I am not suggesting that the issues before us are not important. They are, and need careful and prayerful consideration. But we will never discern God's will in anything if we are not prepared to listen to each other with an open heart and a deep reverence for the other as a brother or sister in Christ. Only when we are willing to listen to each other in humility in order to learn rather than to justify and defend our own position will be in a place where we can hear and discern the voice of God.

What I am saying is true not only for the great issues before us, but for all the differences of opinion we encounter in our parishes and diocese. All too often we respond without fully understanding why each feels the way they do. All too often we respond without fully understand our own motives and hidden agendas, and in so doing damage the people of God and undermine the growth of both parish and diocese.

Forty years ago Adrian van Kaam wrote:-

"This life of the spirit is a life of presence inspired by the sacredness of people, of things, and of events in their deepest reality. The person who leads a spiritual life has a profound attitude of reverence; he (sic) always tends to be respectful.

The opposite attitude of life is one of violence. Violence is a refusal to revere people, nature and things as they really are. Violence may be described as a readiness to infringe upon the integrity or sacredness of reality. To the degree that I lose reverence, violence enters my life and expresses itself either in mild manifestations such as manipulation of myself and others, or in extreme forms such as discrimination against certain groups of the population or against people who profess a religion different to mine."

These are profound words that challenge the violence within my own life and in the world around me. We live in violent times; a time no less violent than that of the Tudors. I pray God that we may all be peacemakers instead of doing violence to the Kingdom of God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

+ Brian

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