Fulcrum Blog
Bishop of Croydon blogs from Lambeth 2008

Nick Baines has been the Bishop of Croydon in the Diocese of Southwark since 2003. Previously he served as Archdeacon of Lambeth and in parishes around England. He is a linguist and chairs the Meissen Commission. A regular broadcaster on radio and TV, he is also the author of four books (published by St Andrew Press and available online from the Church of Scotland Shop).

You can comment about Nick's blog by adding a post on the Fulcrum Forum thread concerning Nick's Blog from Lambeth.

I guess Lambeth has already begun because we have bishops and their wives living in our house. Ishmael and Elizabeth Mukuwanda (Central Zimbabwe) arrived on Thursday and I will be off to Heathrow this morning to collect Patrick and Kathy Yu from Canada (Scarborough, Toronto).

What amuses me so far is that people keep expressing sympathy and look at me with wet-dog eyes when wishing me well for the torment that lies before me in Canterbury. But I don't feel that at all. I am looking forward to Lambeth and getting to know (and learning from) a pile of bishops from all over the planet.

I realise that Lambeth is a bit of a media nightmare. 'Bishops praying together, studying the Scriptures together, worshipping together, talking together, learning together'... is not a sexy headline and won't generate many stories. The problem is that Gene Robinson andthe lobbying groups will not resist a microphone or a camera and will offer the stuff to sate the media hunger for sex and conflict. I still think we are right to press on with the intention for the bishops to meet and study and pray and talk - regardless of what we have to face from a frustrated press. To whose tune are we supposed to be dancing?

Anyway, before then we have a load of other engagements with our visiting bishops. A reception tonight, services at Southwark Cathedral tomorrow (big one for Zimbabwe in the evening), meetings of bishops on Monday (and a trip on the London Eye - just to annoy the pod hostess by looking south of the river instead of north), preparation on Tuesday before we travel to Canterbury on Wednesday.

Before then I also have to write the foreword for a new book that brings together the writings of William Barclay on Christmas as taken from the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. The coming of God into the muckiness of the world seems a good point from which to proceed to Lambeth: God not opting out of the conflicts of the world or the obtuse certainties of the people who bore his name (and would eventually nail him to a cross). Lambeth promises to offer a great and unique opportunity for bishops to remember together why they are bishops and what being a bishop means. It will begin, I think, from a renewed conviction of servant leadership and cross-shaped ministry.

I read this morning the news that Dr Nolbert Kunonga (deposed Bishop of Harare and Mugabe stooge) has claimed the support of Gafcon. I expect that this gaffe which is also a con will cause the Foca leaders one or two moments of embarrassment. At least, it should do.

Yesterday we had a Lambeth Conference Eucharist at Southwark Cathedral, addressed by the Archbishop of Mexico. Also present were bishops from Toronto, Canada, and Zimbabwe. The evening saw a fantastic Zimbabwean Eucharist in a full Cathedral and celebrated in Shona. The whole day (with extra meetings and conversations) seemed to sum up what the Anglican Communion is really all about: unity in Christ despite differences of context and priorities. Around our breakfast table we had Bishop Patrick and Mrs Kathy Yu (Hong Kong Chinese Canadian), Bishop Ishmael and Mrs Elizabeth Mukuwanda (Central Zimbabwe) and me and my wife (white English). We represent three (or four) continents and churches living out the Gospel in very different contexts with very different challenges and opportunities. Yet, we sit united in prayer - and food - as we listen and question and share with one another.

Today we will be having meetings between bishops in Southwark and Canada/Zimbabwe. It feels like Lambeth has already begun even before we get to Canterbury. Relationships are growing and deepening and it is brilliantly encouraging.

I also read this morning that at least one Nigerian bishop is breaking ranks and coming to Lambeth. I pray that more will have the courage to do the same in the face of threats from their Primates. Is this authoritarian diktat-driven style of episcopacy one that Gafcon really wishes to encourage as 'strong leadership'? Or only when it concerns the issues with which western Focas wish to agree? I think we will watch this space...

When I agreed to do this blog I had no idea how many people have so much time to spare staring at a screen and writing bizarre emails (with the odd exceptional rational one). Do people not have lives to lead and jobs to do?

I spent yesterday showing a Canadian bishop some of my inner-urban parishes and meeting a couple of inspirational and transformational clergy. One of them serves in a hugely complicated and difficult parish and does so with impressive and costly love. She has quadrupled her congregation in three years and experienced threats I have never been subject to. Another has turned her parish round and brought evangelism and mission to a church that was 'shy' of these words. Both are catholic. The point of the visits was to engage with how we are doing mission, worship and evangelism in hard places and the conversations were great to listen in to.

I arrived at Canterbury this afternoon. The organisation was smooth, clear, welcoming and hospitable. I even got my laptop online at the first attempt - which proves that miracles happen.

I heard Greg Venables on Radio 4 this morning complaining that the last time he came to Lambeth he had to bring a suitcase full of preparatory papers and books, whereas this time he doesn't know even where to register. I guess that if reams of papers had been sent out beforehand the complaint might have been that the conference was too bureaucratic. I am glad we didn't have masses of literature to read before coming here - studying John's Gospel seems to be an ideal way to prepare. Reading the Scriptures without too much 'outside intrusion' is surely something to be celebrated as preparation for bishops meeting together? Or have I missed something here?

Incidentally, the paperwork we have received (downloaded) says quite clearly where to register - under the section marked 'Registration'.

As my wife will be arriving later, I am going to wander around and try to familiarise myself with the site. I have met a load of bishops so far who just walk up and introduce themselves - very friendly.

The business doesn't really get going until tomorrow, but the welcome session this evening should open it up. I still haven't spotted the media circus or the lobbying groups, but I guess they will emerge soon enough.

Just read Mike Hill's blog and share his sentiment that there are big issues out there in the big wide world and we can only hope that these do not get hidden or lost behind the internal proccupations of 'church'. The Pharisees (of popular imagination) spring to mind...

Thursday has been a great start to the Conference, despite the long queues for meals and the lack of hot water in our block this morning. We met in our Bible Study groups this morning before going to Canterbury Cathedral for the start of the Bishops' Retreat. I wish I could write something profound about this, but I think it will take some time for me to reflect and think it through.

Rowan did two addresses today and there was something very powerful about him standing in his Cathedral teaching, encouraging, challenging and stretching the bishops. The fundamental question arising from Galatians 1:16 was the vocation of Christians to be places/people in whom Jesus Christ is revealed. Noting that Jesus in the Gospels speaks words of healing and forgiveness, promise and judgement, Rowan went on to comment that people change/repent when they see the Kingdom of God - not when they are shouted at to repent.

There is a powerful generosity about Rowan in the face of those who regard him as darkness personified. Speaking about the need to begin with thanks, he went on to insist that we pray for and thank God for each other and, equally, for those who have chosen not to come to Lambeth. The personal vilification he has received will not be reciprocated.

This generosity is not weakness. It is powerful and Christlike and commands respect. I spent the 'reflection' times (when I wasn't falling asleep in the International Centre Library where it was warm...) examining myself, my ministry, my discipleship. I think I am a lousy disciple and probably exercise a deficient episcopal ministry in many ways. I could be overwhelmed by the failures and inadequacies, but am trying to hear Rowan's assertion that 2 Corinthians 11:28-29 makes the 'faithful apostle' unable to separate himself from the weaknesses of others - that to be faithful means to be invaded by the failures and weaknesses of others. This leads to a very real vulnerability.

I don't have the time or space to go through all Rowan's points. But there was, I feel, a serious attentiveness to what he was saying. He does not duck the difficulties, but he does expose the hubris, the fantasy and the sheer loudness of those who confuse their own agenda with God's. The bishop is called to be the symbol of unity not when allying himself or herself to particular parties, agendas or groups, but when articulating on behalf of the Christian community the stuff of the Kingdom of God: justice, righteousness and so on.

The Retreat also involves simple worship and this is good. It is a pity the whole Retreat cannot be held in silence, but I guess that would be impossible given the spread of people involved. It is, however, very important that this conference has begun with biblical and spiritual reflection and self-examination - not with 'issues' and opinions. The preparation for the conference was to read John's Gospel, the Retreat is rooted in Scripture and the worship is riddled with Scripture. Spot on, in my book.

It is interesting listening to people's prejudices about Lambeth from the outside. The big wide world seems to think we must be gathering in angst-ridden huddles behind dark curtains hoping all the horribleness will just go away. I understand that there are some people who will be disappointed if Lambeth isn't a disaster. Well, I don't understand this mentality - especially in a community that calls itself Christian.

For example, I heard today a complaint that the conference seems to be going nowhere. What sort of twit makes a complaint like that when the bishops are in retreat for three days of focusing on God, their vocation and the contexts in which that vocation has to be lived out? Retreat is not play time for people with nothing else to do; rather, it is time for the serious business of stopping, listening, self-examining, questioning and learning from God.

What I am experiencing (and hearing from others) is that the Bible Study groups are already engaging in the 'difficult stuff', but in a context where listening has to be done. What comes out of engagement like this is an acknowledgement of the radically diverse contexts in which Anglicans are seeking to be faithful across the globe. One American said to me today that only recently have Americans begun to recognise that there is a wider world out there and a wider Church. Encounters like this, based in mutual respect and attention, must surely be effective in furthering understanding of different missiological priorities even if the process does not ultimately lead to particular parties changing their mind on the principles.

Following Rowan's powerful and intelligent addresses today I have been reflecting on what I have already been experiencing as a bishop for the last five years: that the prophetic role does not involve shouting loudly at people about what they are doing wrong, but has to do with resisting allegiance with any particular group at the expense of losing the big picture of God's call. The bishop is one who must learn the 'languages' of many people and groups as he/she travels a sometimes lonely road, learning to communicate effectively with all. He has to 'listen in stereo' - one ear to God and the other to the voices or language of other people.

(As an aside... why do the British find it so hard to contemplate learning foreign languages when we meet bishops from other parts of the world who are often working in four or five different languages?)

This isn't trivial. When I worked as a professional linguist many years ago I learned that effective language learning requires humility. Translation is not a straightforward art and demands hard work and serious attention. Having begun to receive responses to this blog, it seems that some people are incapable of the humility of listening and learning before screaming their bilious abuse. I think it has been right for bishops in Canterbury to go first into retreat and encounter with one another and God before attending to 'business'.

The 'language' will change tomorrow when the retreat ends. Why? Because then journalists with their own agendas will have access to us and will work hard to find  the stories they want to back up the judgements they have already made. Today I read phrases such as 'Archbishop hits out...' and wonder what evidence there is for this aggressive language. Journalists have their job to do and I will join in the rough and tumble with them; but any pretence that they are reporting 'reality' should be taken with a bucketful of salt. Bishops will change their language and engagement when the media are there as their presence makes openness (to change one's mind, for example) hard to do. We'll see what happens over the next few days.

Anyone interested in all this would do well to read the chapter by Graham James in 'Fallible Church' (Kenneth Stevenson, ed.) where he rehearses briefly some of the history of the Lambeth Conference. It puts into sharp relief the arrogance of those of us who think that 'we have not been here before' and that 'now' is the 'end' on which the future of the world depends.

I am going to further think through the example of the monastic fathers in the Egyptian desert who were (a) rigorous with themselves before God and one another and (b) refused to condemn those who fell short in any way. I recall Richard Burridge's observation in 'Imitating Christ' that Jesus sharpened the ethical demands on people to a point at which no one can stand... but then goes out and treats those who fail with a deep compassion that seesm to break his own rules. For me at Lambeth this means checking the attitudes I have towards some people and some groups and joining the Archbishop in thanking God (first and foremost) for those who cause me grief. This is not easy - all the self-justification comes boiling to the surface and has to be faced.

The truly remarkable thing about the conference so far is the space there has been for people to simply meet one another and have unhurried time to talk together. Fruitful engagement on contentious issues can only be possible if we have a relationship of trust based on respect and mutual openness to understand.

It is late now, so I don't want to elaborate - but nor do I want to let a whole day go by without writing something.

I will expand later on what understanding needs to be developed in relation to 'episcope' in different cultures and polities and how hierarchies of suffering do not help creative discussion.

It is difficult to know where to start. Today (Sunday) has been both bizarre and remarkable. I'll do the chronology and then make some observations.

It is amazing how people can write something off before it has even happened. Apparently some people think the process of the conference is a means of avoiding conflict - or even engagement with the serious issues. And this judgement has been made confidently before we have even started the conference proper.

The Eucharist at the Cathedral was impressive in the range of languages and people it involved. 650 bishops processing in did not feel like a Communion of bickering partisans. Yes, we sang a couple of 'let's all be warm and cuddly' hymns that I and some others thought inappropriate to the service (it would have been better to sing to and of God rather than to one another about how we should get on together...). Yes, the Sri Lankan preacher finished his sermon with a reference to a Buddhist chant (in the context of commending us to the 'triune God' though) - which was not what one would call 'tactically sensible' given the sensitivities around. But show me any service anywhere where there is not something with which to take issue. The fact is, we shared bread and wine and recognised our unity in Christ. We also recognised that this was the beginning of the Lambeth journey, not the end.

The really weird thing about this morning (apart from the service lasting over 2 hours) was the protesters who lined the streets again. They are a German group who were expelled from the campus a couple of days ago. They seem obsessed with Sodom and the lusts of the flesh and warning bishops that they will roast in hell unless they stop being bishops. These people speak but will not answer questions; they hold their banners and accuse us of 'being proud' when we smile, but only seem capable of smiling some real nastinesses. I really wonder what drives such people to give up time to express their obsessions with bodily functions and urge us on our way to hell. There is something wrong with the psyche of people who are able to hate so smilingly while being unwilling to address their own neuroses when questioned.

I spoke with several bishops who were unhappy with the Eucharist and wondered what would happen at 4pm when the first Plenary was to be held. It turned out to be quite remarkable. There was a very clear explanation of how the conference programme was designed and how the Design Group expect it to work. The Archbishop of Cape Town explained the origins and nature of the Indaba process and tackled some of the nonsense that has been spoken and written about Indaba being an avoidance strategy.

Indaba involves assembling the community (African village) to identify and then address a crisis, sharing openly and honestly but with respect and integrity. Only then can a way forward be discerned. He made the point that how we do our work here will affect how the world outside will hear the Gospel of reconciliation. The process is designed to enable us to be faithful to the Gospel, faithful to bishops and faithful to the Anglican Communion.

Archbishop Drexel Gomez (Chair of the Covenant Design Group) then addressed the history, process and current status of the proposed Anglican Covenant. The conference makes specific space for every voice to be heard and every contribution to count in taking the process forward (if at all). We will engage with principle as well as with detail of the latest draft. The process following Lambeth was also outlined.

Note that this is taking the serious questions seriously and tackling them head on, but in a structured way what gives all bishops a voice and not just the usual suspects who know how to manipulate the system to their own advantage.

Clive Hanford then brought matters to a very clear head when he described the Windsor Continuation Process in detail and tried out the Group's initial analysis of the 'crisis' in the Communion. This was hard-hitting, unambiguously clear and must have made all 'parties' uncomfortable. The demands of the Gospel were spelled out. He observed that although we had sung 'All are welcome' in the Cathedral, this did not mean 'anything goes'. The limits of diversity in unity need to be examined and defined.

This was clear and powerful and left nobody in any doubt about the issues we face. So the conference has been designed to avoid conflict, has it? We are going to avoid the hard issues, are we? Er... I don't think so. Ignore the journalists and punters who have already made up their minds what the outcome will be and listen to those who are engaging with the process with integrity.

The Archbishop of Canterbury then delivered a magisterial Presidential Address. He systematically, clearly and confidently took us through the events and matters that have brought us here. He began with God and ended with the call of God to the Church. He repeated his charge that 'things cannot simply carry on as normal'. He defended (point by point) the process for this conference, successively debunking the criticisms, some of which I have alluded to earlier. He rubbished the fantasies of 'golden ages' of the Church or the Communion, rebuffed the charge that process is replacing substance, and asked the pertinent question of those who want a conference of debates and resolutions: when did the Anglican Communion ever take seriously the resolutions passed at previous Lambeth Conferences? He asked how effective previous (parliamentary) methods have been?

The need for renewal is obvious and the choices are now to be made. But the manner of their making is as important as their substance. Rowan rightly questioned those processes that allow for weaker voices to be ignored, patronised or manipulated by the powerful who are familiar with parliamentary systems of debate. This conference is designed to ensure that all bishops will have their voice registered and heard - however quiet it might be.

I don't know the answer to this question, but I wonder if the GAFCon process allowed all voices to be heard properly. That is a question, not a statement.

Rowan concluded by encouraging bishops to go and listen to fringe meetings and other seminars in order to hear those with whom we might disagree. He made the obvious (but usually ignored) point that 'learning something does not mean necessarily agreeing with it.'

So, that was the day. Now one or two (possibly disconnected, but pertinent) observations.

I spoke with several African bishops in the crypt of Canterbury Cathedral this morning. They accused 'all' English bishops of preaching a false Gospel, re-writing the Scriptures, allowing any ethical behaviour that people like, and so on. They had no idea of the difference in polity with which English, American and Canadian bishops have to work. The African bishop is (in their words) 'a little king' and his yea is yea and his nay is nay. They do not have to deal with the complexities of English law (data protection, faculty jurisdiction, discrimination legislation, etc.) and had no idea what these involved. My explanation of bishops being subject to law led one experienced bishop to say: 'But that puts a different perspective on things.' Africa needs to understand the West as much as America needs to understand Africa and Asia.

Secondly, my heavy involvement in Zimbabwe means that I have to listen to the outpourings of Robert Mugabe rather more than I would like. I have the experience of having been misrepresented on the front page of the state-run Zimbabwean media and know something of the bizarre world of Mugabe propaganda. Mugabe can only be understood when his childhood is understood - his anti-British/-white racism can only be understood when his experiences of the past are examined. But Peter Akinola's recent language suggests a similar process at work. NOTE: I am not comparing Akinola with Mugabe as some sort of a tyrant. (I'll sue anyone who says I am...) But when Akinola uses the language of 'We will win this' or 'We will not be told what to say or think by others' or uses the language of 'slavery', I wonder if there is more being exorcised than appears on the surface. (I thought this was precisely the sort of 'unilateralism' that he objects to in the Americans.)

If we are to question the treatment of conservatives by TEC, then we must be equitable and question the treatment of Nigerian bishops by their Archbishop who threatened them with deposition if they attended Lambeth. The Nigerian bishop who intended to attend was intimidated into returning to Nigeria.

I'll finish on a lighter note. Bishop Miguel Tamayo (member of the Conference Design Group) of Cuba led singing in between the heavy stuff this afternoon. We sang two songs in Spanish, including one where we had to hold hands. It was joyful and funny at the same time. The Spanish-speaking bishop was wonderful and I hope we hear more from him. One bishop leaned over to me and said: 'If you wondered where Manuel went after Fawlty Towers...'. He was brilliant!

Monday - the first 'proper' day of the conference has been a long one. I left my room at 6am and returned at 11pm. So, if anyone thinks we're having a holiday here, they can think again.

I have just read Andrew Carey's response to yesterday's post. I find it staggering that Andrew can write so easily of 'trust' when he spends so many words in his CEN column undermining trust. Do I care whether or not he is unconvinced by the Indaba process (of which he is not a part)? No. I will explain why later on in these observations. However, I agree with Mike Hill on the sermon from the Cathedral yesterday - some good stuff in it, but was tactically inept and left hostages to fortune by what was both said and left unsaid. That said, there was also some challenge in it and I was open to hear that amid the odd stuff.

The Bible Study group is proving to be very stimulating. I am not the only one to find that people are talking very openly about their own perceptions, limitations, contexts and hard issues. This is being done with respect and I think people from different perspectives are beginning to listen and hear some new and (sometimes) uncomfortable things. We were looking at Jesus walking on the water in John 6 and a variety of insights were offered. I came away with a helpful reminder from Bishop John Ford (Plymouth) that time matters and that the Spirit brings the future into the 'now' - an eschatological understanding of our present context and experience. It reminded me of Wolfhart Pannenberg's proposition that in the resurrection of Jesus the present is invaded by the future; we now live in the present in the light of the future revealed and made real in the resurrection. That is why we can hear Jesus saying 'Fear not.'

I also reminded me of something that I felt powerfully when I was Vicar of Rothley (Leicester) from 1992-2000. There was the shaft of a Saxon cross in the churchyard (someone had nicked the cross piece) dating back to around 860AD. I baptised people in a Norman font - over 1000 years old. We drank wine at Communion from an Elizabethan chalice. There was a plaque on the wall by the north door naming the Vicars of Rothley dating back to the 11th century. Now, this gives a sense of perspective to the hysteria surrounding our present difficulties. People have worshipped, prayed, baptised, passed away, laughed, suffered and endured plagues, revolutions, civil wars, the Reformation (and Counter-Reformation), two world wars, numerous other wars, the birth, growth and death of the British Empire and five European Champions League wins for Liverpool (!)... and still the church is there and the community meets and prays and worships and baptises and buries and marries and serves. Let's not be so arrogant as to think that the 'now' is  the pivotal point in global history. (It also puts into perspective the odd duff sermon.)

The Indaba Groups set sail this morning after the Bible Study groups. Five groups of 8 come together and the first session took us back (individually and then in twos) to the Retreat in order to link our work to the broader perspective of God's Kingdom and the role of the disciple/bishop that we considered there. In groups of 5 we then identified what constitutes 'Anglicanism' in our home context. I was in a group with a bishop from Burundi, Tanzania, Mexico and El Salvador. I cannot think of another context in which we would have met as brothers and had the conversation we did. This brought home to each of us the serious differences not only in context, but in role that we experience. A Tanzanian bishop shares a sacramental and teaching role with an English bishop, but beyond that we are completely different. The African bishop can issue edicts - I cannot. Patient and open conversation meant that we were able to hear the differences and recognise that we do not compare like with like when we think of what it means to be an Anglican bishop.

Furthermore, the Africans were clear that the missionaries brought three things with them: the Gospel, education and health/medical care. They also brought the Book of Common Prayer. I finally understood why some Africans cannot move on from the BCP because to do so would feel like moving on from the 'faith first delivered to them'. This looks odd to westerners who realise that the BCP was intended not only to be 'common', but also to offer worship in the contemporary vernacular. I also learned that divorce is forbidden by the Church in Tanzania and Burundi because that is what the missionaries told them the Bible taught.

In the second Indaba Group in the afternoon (after Provincial Bishops' meetings) we followed this up. I found myself in a group with two Americans and several others from several continents. The conversation opened up tough (to hear) perspectives on American unilateralism, culturally conditioned biblical hermeneutics, selective priorities in biblical ethics and the cost to different churches of pretending that their particular ethical challenges are shared by every church in every province. What was important is that on day one of this Indaba process, following the carefully led retreat and yesterday's clear explanation of the Indaba process (as I described yesterday), the honest and tough conversations were happening naturally. There was careful and attentive listening that surprised me. Had we launched into debates on proposals and draft texts (of resolutions) we would never have achieved this degree of respectful conversation. Listening/hearing does not mean agreeing.

And that has all happened on day one. Many bishops have reported their surprise that the process has already made such engagement possible.

And that is why I don't care what Andrew Carey thinks about it. It is early days and there are a million ways the process could go wrong. But I sometimes think people like Andrew actually want it to go wrong in order to prove themselves right. Incidentally, in relation to his comments about the process being manipulated, some bishops are worried about the process precisely (I think) because they are powerless to manipulate it. That is why they are so uncomfortable. And I share that discomfort - which is partly why I think it might be the right process.

This evening all of this was put into sharp focus by three things: (a) Zimbabwe; (b) the arrest and indictment of Radovan Karadzic; (c) the plenary address by Brian McLaren on 'evangelism'.

(a) The Zimbabwe nightmare has finally seen a glimmer of hope for a resolution of the political, humanitarian and economic disaster that this beautiful country is enduring. Mugabe and Tsvangarai have met and agreed on a framework for talks. We have waited a long time and that long time has not been passive time. The problems of Zimbabwe and the challenge to the Church there put some other stuff into perspective. All five Zimbabwe bishops are here and benefitting enormously from (as well as contributing greatly to) this conference. This is the Anglican Communion doing its stuff: resourcing, supporting praying with/for our sister Churches in very different contexts from ours. This sort of link (supporting the poor) provides the missiological and ecclesiological raison d'etre for the continuation and stengthening of the Anglican Communion.

(b) The obscene violence and ethnic cleansing of the Balkans has quickly been forgotten by many in the West. Newer and more exciting crises have replaced them in our consciousness (but... what happened to Burma?!). But the atrocities perpetrated by Karadzic and others over a decade ago still represent a shame and a scandal to any notion of a civilised Europe. Today Karadzic was arrested and charged - and the horror stories of the 1990s will now be resurrected in court and the agonies revisited by victims and spectators. The strife in the Anglican Communion might be important, but set it against the Balkan horrors and the sheer human violence and misery we witnessed there, and then try proclaiming a Gospel of reconciliation from a Church divided by arguments about power.

(c) The American Brian McLaren delivered an intriguing and challenging address in the evening. His analysis of radical changes in the world's cultures was broad brush, but needs serious engagement. His essential challenge was to build on Anglican strengths to engage with an emerging postmodern world in which evangelism will have to be done differently. There is much that could be said about his analysis and the way he worked it, but one thing stood out for me. It will really annoy people who are wedded to the notion that big numbers equals 'truth' or 'God's blessing' or 'the right formula'. I found it challenging for other reasons.

Basically, he described the world as having moved from pre-modernism through modernism to an emerging postmodernism. The West spent five hundred years in modernism whereas Africa (and parts of Asia?) will spend five years in modernism before moving on. However, he says, Christian churches flourish where people/cultures move from premodernism to modernism and decline when modernism no longer addresses the questions posed by postmodern minds. Massive church growth in Africa has something to do with its move from premodernism to modernism, but the growth might not necessarily last. More importantly, it implies a sociological element in the growth of Christianity which must be taken seriously. Hence, the challenge for the Church in places of massive growth lies not in wielding power or thinking that numbers justify its methodologies or theologies, but rather in making disciples of Jesus. The same phenomenon cannot happen in the West because the conditions that make for such evangelistic 'success' no longer apply here.

Well, there is much that he said to back up his charge, but I am too tired to elaborate now. The point is that he challenged in an eirenic and supportive way the opportunity for the Anglican Church to take seriously its vocation to make disciples of Jesus who will commit to changing the world. However, we need to find appropriate (essentially relational) ways to engage and reahc out to postmodern people. I will not quickly forget his statement that 'the world has been orphaned by religion which no longer answers its questions'.

So, the challenge is there. But so is the encouragement to recognise that it is not Christianity (or particular forms of it) that is Lord; Jesus Christ is Lord. And we bishops have got to find ways to help our churches and clergy become the sort of disciples whose example draws others into discipleship and not just some sort of consumer lifestyle choice.

So, the cynics will have to wait a little longer before their predictions of doom might see the light of day. I discussed these matters with Theo Hobson on the Today Programme on Radio 4 this morning and came away thinking that commentators whose script only has one ending will be really annoyed if we don't follow it. It reminds me of GK Chesterton's (I think) comment that people keep saying that the Church is going to the dogs - but it is the dogs that keep dying. I liked Theo and would be happy to talk further, but I think he will be very disappointed if the Anglican Communion doesn't follow the script and doesn't fall apart.

To bed...

Another long day and just read Andrew Carey's generous response to my last post. I have to disagree that he simply 'asks questions and critiques' in his CEN column: proposals to withhold Parish Share go beyond critique. I would be happy to discuss this further with him.

I also do not accept his evaluation of Indaba. The most common critique of Lambeth 1998 is that the process was decided by huddles of conspirators in corridors - people adept at manipulating processes for decision-making. The Indaba process (and we will only know how effective it can be by trying it) is ensuring that every single bishop gets a voice and that the voice is heard. Today we were given a summary of yesterday's conclusions and given ten minutes in small groups to amend or add to it what we felt had been edited out or missed. It is remarkable how much consistency emerges in a 'trustful' exercise such as this one. I repeat what I am hearing and experiencing: Americans (in particular) are listening to Africans and vice versa. These conversations are not in vain - regardless of the eventual outcome.

Andrew's concern about the bureaucrats managing the outcomes is one that I have heard voiced. I think that can be managed and many of us will ensure that the process is not manipulated by them. Whoever they are.

Anyway, back to the business. In our Bible Study this morning (following the Eucharist led by the Province of Central Africa on the day after Mugabe shook hands with Tsvangarai) we were looking at 'the Bread of Life' from John 6. We have a Professor of Patristics in our group (an ecumenical partner) and he is bringing a penetrating and elucidating insight into our conversations. I took away from this morning the notion that the 'bread for life' feeds the body whilst the 'bread of life' makes the life worth living. It is a good group and trust has grown very quickly. It is ably and generously facilitated by an African bishop.

The Indaba Groups were looking at the 'Bishop and Evangelism' today. Having reviewed where we got to yesterday, we split into groups of four and addressed particular contexts, asking what was the role of the bishop in them for the purposes of evangelism. Contexts covered such areas as HIV/AIDS, church decline, economic life, young people, and several others that I have temporarily forgotten. I went into a group to look at 'Other Faiths'. With me were the professor mentioned earlier, a Philippino and an Arab bishop. The discussion was informed, passionate, intelligent and helpful.

I chose this group because I am involved in interfaith matters in Croydon (including doing public dialogues with an imam friend), in Central Asia (on behalf of the Archbishop of Canterbury) and, through my chairmanship of the Meissen Commission, with the Evangelische Kirche in Deutschland and a tripartite engagement with Iranian Muslims. Each of us in our group is active in dialogue and in representing Christ to people of other faiths. We also face the challenges that this brings - less from the people of other faiths and more from other Christians who stupidly and ignorantly think you can just wade in and convert people by shouting loudly at them.

Our concerns centred on the disparity between high-level (academic or political) agreements signed by religious leaders and their application/communication at grassroots levels in local communities. This is a serious problem: how to filter down the goodwill between leaders so that religious communities reflect the wisdom of their leaders in engagement with those who see the world and live differently in it. There was no question about whether Christians should share their faith with people of other faiths; but there was a serious question about how.

But the other point that commanded total support in the wider Indaba Group when I reported back was the urgent priority for ordinary Christians to learn the content of the Christian faith and how to handle the Bible. Courses on Islam are good and useful (and I commend them), but many Christians are hindered by their 'not having a reason for the hope they hope is within them'. Bishops need to enable their clergy to enable their people to get to grips intelligently and committedly with the Scriptures and the content of Christian belief and faith. Many or most already do, but there is an urgency to this.

This all fed into an afternoon self-select session on Companion Links. Mike Hill took a rest from blogging (and spelling my name wrong...) and chaired this unpredictable meeting with humour and good grace - despite the fact that people kept coming in late and that the large number (over 60) meant that we had to move rooms in the middle of the session. Clearly, many dioceses in Africa and Asia do not have any links with the Western dioceses and would like some. PWM can make this happen and enquiries should be directed to Stephen Lyon once Lambeth is over. The wonderful Archbishop of the DR Congo lamented the fact that British dioceses take no interest because they are francophone. Jersey is now involved (I think), but who is up to the challenge?

This reminds me of the other value of this conference and the way it has been shaped. I met my wife for lunch and she was talking with a friend who had been deeply moved ('wrung out' were her words) by the accounts by Congolese women of the tormenting experiences of multiple rape, torture, hunger, suffering and bereavement through violence. Congo gets forgotten, yet the suffering and genocide there in the last few years has been truly appalling and has generally been met with silence in the west. These personal stories can be hard to listen to. But the Anglican Communion is all about being united with people like this, praying for them, knowing them, serving them, supporting them and advocating for them.

The media will love Thursday when 650 bishops will march through London in a reaffirmation of the Millennium Goals... before having lunch at Lambeth Palace and going on to a Garden Party at Buckingham Palace with the Queen. Yet this apparent contradiction (march for poverty before consorting with royalty) should not be approached with great British cynicism. The Congolese and others from places of terrible suffering and deprivation will remind us of the flesh-and-blood reality of many of the world's poorest people and will then stand in places of power and know that they are not forgotten - that they have dignity and are honoured by the rest of us, including our hosts. I dare the media to drop their cynicism and look at this through the lens I have just suggested. Any takers?

This evening I returned to the Big Top (after an evening meal with fellow-blogger Mike Hill and Fulcrum's own Graham Kings who told me a good joke about a rabbi and a priest...) for the address by Cardinal Ivan Diaz who is 'Prefect for the Pontifical Council for the Evangelisation of Peoples at the Vatican'. I think that means that the Council lives in the Vatican and not that it is set up to evangelise peoples at the Vatican - if you see what I mean.

Diaz was gracious in addressing us as 'brothers and sisters in Christ' and expressing the need for unity between God's people. He then went on to push all the buttons that usually get pushed by Vatican speakers whatever the title of the address: abortion, the fmaily, the 'culture of death', etc. Nothing remarkable there except that he was clearly stating the clear positioning of the Roman Catholic Church on the usual subjects. He spoke unambiguously about the uniqueness of Christ and called for the churches to nurture 'apologists not apologisers' for the Christian faith in our aggressive secular world. Again, no suprises there. Even his remarks on interreligious dialogue were unremarkable, though given the clarity one would expect from him. But then he did what some of us had been waiting for...

In speaking of the ecumenical dimension of evangelisation he described a church that forgets its tradition as suffering from 'spiritual Alzheimers' and a church that goes its own way as having 'ecclesial Parkinsons'. Wham! This reminded me of the address given by Cardinal Walter Kasper to the Bishops of the Church of England at Market Bosworth a couple of years ago when he was trying to dissuade us from considering women bishops by suggesting that unity between the C of E and the RC Church was just around the corner. I wasn't alone in sitting there thinking: 'Hang on a minute: you don't even think I am ordained and you keep telling us we are not a real 'church'!'

Again, the media will love this one, but they'll probably also miss the point. The point is that these barbs were delivered in the context of an otherwise eirenic and intelligent address in which he clearly referred to the Anglican Communion (and its continued strengthening) with affection and respect. He concluded by commending us to God for 'the blessing of the world'. So there.

I also sat there and wondered how often you get a pile of Patriarchs, the Sally Army, Joel Edwards, assorted Christian leaders from all over the world and all sorts of Christian denominations in one place to think and talk and worship and study the Scriptures and pray for the Church of God and the world it is called to serve. I think it was GK Chesterton who said that 'people keep saying that Church is going to the dogs; but it is the dogs who keep dying.'

While Diaz was speaking about Mary ('the Mother of God' - theotokos), I glanced over to the press gallery and saw Chris Sugden (obviously taking time out from manipulating the end of the Communion) with his head down. I assume this was in reverential devotion to Mary. But I suspect he had just fallen asleep.

Scorching day here in lovely Kent University where the rabbits (I have been assured that they are all heterosexual) are playing in the sun and the bishops are trying to spot the 'reality' in the news reports about Lambeth. A couple of gripes before I get going:

1. Why do people (like 'Nersen') hide behind codenames and not use their real identity? If I ever get anonymous letters, I bin them. Anyone not willing to identify him/herself shouldn't be given the time of day.

2. Chris Baker: if I were you I would not trust the 'reports' you have read about Indaba. From the explanation you give, you clearly haven't understood it. I'll try again to explain how it works.

This morning, having sung our way through a Cuban Eucharist in Spanish (with the fantastic Manuel at the helm again), we went into Bible Study groups to tackle John 8:1-20 and the question of judgement. I have struck lucky with my group after all and the relationships between us is growing better by the day. There is an openness to the text and a willingness to venture opinions that you simply wouldn't do if this were a competitive environment.

The main question had to do with how verse 12 ('I am the light of the world') forms a link between the episode of the woman caught in adultery and Jesus' encounter with the Pharisees in which he speaks of the validity of his ministry/teaching and his bringing light into the world. This passage (1-11) has always intrigued me because of some of the questions it raises such as:

• if the woman was 'caught in the act of adultery', where was the bloke?
• why did 'the eldest' begin to leave first after Jesus had invited them to stone her?
• what on earth did he write in the sand - her name?
• how are we to understand Jesus' refusal to judge the woman?

The points that stuck out for me (and on which I will reflect further) can be summarised as follows:

• Pharisees have a tendency to dehumanise people by happily using them to score theological points. Jesus will not play such games.
• People respond to Jesus not when threatened or shouted at (as Rowan made clear during the Retreat last week), but when they see, in the light of Jesus, that there is a better way and a better place to be.
• Whereas Deuteronomy 21:18-21 has the injunction to stone to death the 'glutton and drunkard' (and doesn't that sound familiar?), here in John 8 Jesus (also accused of being a 'drunkard and a glutton') stops the throwing of stones. This needs further reflection. (I also ought to admit that I nicked this from Graham Kings who told me over dinner last night of the launch of a website called something like 'dontthrowstones.com'. It was he, not me, who made the connection between Deuteronomy and John.)
• The point of light is not to be stared at, but to illuminate the world around - exposing the dark stuff as well as the good stuff.
• It reminded me of the Burridge stuff I mentioned a couple of days ago about holding together the sharpened ethical teaching of Jesus with the compassionate way he dealt with those who failed miserably.
• One of our group observed that many of the encounters of Jesus take place in the half-light of dawn or dusk and that maybe this suggests something about the lack of clarity with which we always encounter Jesus.
• But the really key bit is that the judgement of the religious people brought only misery and death, whereas Jesus brought the liberating light that offered a new way and a new hope.

Now, I realise I have just given away a pile of sermon material, but just start to consider the discussions between and behaviour of those involved in the current debates in and around the Anglican Communion.

This goes deep. As someone who takes Scripture as a starting point and with the utmost seriousness, I remember writing to a conservative evangelical involved in the irregular ordinations in the Diocese of Southwark a couple of years ago in response to his letter to me. I asked a simple question to which I have never received an answer: 'Where do you find the biblical sanction for lying, manipulation, subterfuge and misrepresentation?'

This doesn't apply only to the particular recipient, but to all of us who use manipulative and dishonest methods to further our own cause or gain our own power. There is too much of it about and it smacks of darkness, not light. Whatever certain people say, the ends never justify the means.

Now I've got that out of my system, I'll move on to the Indaba groups and the process. What is happening here is very interesting. My Indaba group rebelled a bit this morning (as have others) and wanted to buck the system. But rather than this being a problem, it is actually evidence that the process is working! We trust each other enough to challenge the process, argue about how we want to work it and address the issues we think must have priority - regardless of what the programme says. Funnily enough, many of our priorities are also those set out in the programme...

The discussion we had was fascinating. An American pointed out that the Indaba process involves time and space and we are finding the limited time and controlled agenda doesn't fit it. However, an African bishop helpfully suggested that if we were to do Indaba properly, we would all have to be African anyway and couldn't be in a 'temporary community' such as this conference. I ventured the suggestion that this process enables every voice to be heard and was corrected by another African who said that the priority is not actually that the voices be heard, but that everyone takes responsibility for the process and the outcomes. The Indaba creates the relational space in which the issue can be identified and discussed, resolutions offered and agreed, and responsibility taken for the implementation and consequences.

Now, that is what is happening! We agreed that we would concentrate on certain key issues and that we would own our process - which might mean staying up all night until we have got somewhere with it. I know that some bishops here will say that this is fine for us, but it isn't happening in their groups. My answer is dead simple: make it happen.

Further evidence of the wisdom and efficacy of the process thus far (which is not to say that it will give us the right or the best outcome in the end) could be seen in the first Windsor Continuation Group 'hearing' this afternoon. This was the first opportunity for bishops to come and respond to the work of the Group and address concerns, advise on process or content, and share perceptions. A string of bishops from all continents queued to speak. They were passionate, informed, intelligent and gracious. Strong things were said and no holds were barred.

If this had been part of any other process, parties would have adopted their positions, entrenched their defences and played the debating game to get their way and their words (in resolutions). But the process thus far has allowed a different sort of conversation in which people are ready to speak and to listen without having to force a conclusion right now. Call me naive, but I think this is a much more mature approach to conflict resolution and I have experienced something completely new in it. Again, I repeat, it might not lead to a tidy conclusion, but previous methods certainly haven't created the environment for mature conversation and discussion in which genuine listening to the other can take place.

Tom Wright suggested this morning that Fulcrum needs a third blogger who is less positive than me and Mike Hill. I think he was joking. But I promised him I'd try to be more miserable in future. So, here goes:

• it's too hot here on the campus and I don't like rabbits;
• the bed is too short and the pillow too thin;
• I can't understand Korean;
• the journalists keep whingeing that they don't get any good stories and are barred from too many events/venues. Well, the presence of a camera or microphone (or journalist) changes the nature of the language, the relationship and the behaviour of those meeting together. So, I am still clear that we must be disciplined and stick to the integrity of our process and not simply dance to the media tune. It is frustrating them like mad...

I have also learned a very important lesson this afternoon. If you are seated near a camera and find your face projected onto the large screen during a session, don't pick your nose and eat it. For a small fee I'll name the bishop involved...

My wife was doing a TV interview later this afternoon and I was waiting for her in a coffee area of the Sports Hall on the campus. A very conservative American bishop was brought in by a policeman to the desk. The policeman said he had found the bishop wandering around saying he was lost. But the copper had no idea where he was and said he was also lost and needed to know how to show the bishop where to go. I resisted all temptations to either evangelise the two of them or give suggestions as to how to tell the said bishop 'where to go'.

Anyway, went to the pub because the evening was lovely and then came back to my room to find a message saying my parents had been mugged on holiday in the USA. So, while writing this I have also been contacting them to see what needs to be sorted out. Funny old world. Tomorrow we have an early start because we have to go to London in our purple cassocks to walk for poverty - in temperatures of 28 degrees. Pray for us - I am not looking forward to the smell on the coach back to Canterbury after the party at Buckingham Palace.

Thanks to Nersen and decbass for your responses to my question about pseudonyms (see thread). I still think contributors should be fully identifiable, but I understand decbass's reluctance. Thanks.

There seems to be alot of comment in the media and blogs about the media and blogs. I repeat what I have said before: the media seem not to want to report what is actually happening, but seek evidence to back up the story they have already written. So, a 'story' is only one that confirms that we are falling apart. When journalists complain that there are no stories (or that they have to go looking for them), what they mean is that there are no stories that play to the conflict theme.

This is not anti-journalist or anti-media. I believe in the rough and tumble of a serious engagement with the media and not always on 'our' terms. I am more than happy to join in the scrum. But I get fed up with the narrow, prejudiced, negative assumptions that define what is a 'story' when it comes to the Church of England or Anglican Communion. I'll give an example...

Today we travelled to London in a fleet of coaches to march from Whitehall to Lambeth Palace in support of the Millennium Development Goals. I have only just got back and had a quick scan of the BBC reporting - which was clear, positive and informative. But each time I was asked this morning about the purpose of the march, the question always came back to: 'Isn't this just an attempt to avoid the sexuality issue?' Get over it! We do not simply spend all our time thinking or talking about sex. We get criticised when we do talk about sex because half the world is dying of poverty and oppression; when we give our united attention to poverty and oppression we are accused of simply trying to avoid talking about sex. This is pathetic.

I have been to a number of press conferences in Germany and have dealt with journalists there many times. They assume that we have integrity, are reasonably intelligent and tell the truth - hence, the discussions are informed, sensible and searching. It sometimes feels as if the root assumptions in England are that we are all crooks, are lying through our teeth and need to be exposed. It just seems to me that the media could handle matters with a little more intelligence and integrity.

In this week's CEN Andrew Carey suggests that we simply want to be able to blame the media for when the conference fails. Where has he got that from? If the conference does not lead to a good conclusion, it will be the fault of the participants. But the media play a role in how matters are perceived. Constant negative reporting (with the exception, to my mind, of Riazat Butt of the Guardian) impacts on the temperature. The valid observation is rather that the cynics would like to create a self-fulfilling prophecy and see the conference 'fail' (whatever that means) and their own predictions being vindicated. I might be naive, but I would find that hard to live with in terms of professional or intellectual integrity.

Now to the matter of media access to what we are doing. How many times do we need to repeat that the presence of a journalist, a microphone or a camera changes the nature of an event, the language of the conversation and compromises the freedom of participants to express themselves openly - even tentatively? I contest that this conference is not run for the sake of the media, but in order to provide a secure place for confidential and trusting (not secretive) conversation. I maintain that we need to guard that.

I was subject to a personal explosive tirade from a bishop a couple of days ago. This was in my Indaba group. We addressed it and handled it in what I think was a mature manner. Had that been open to journalists, what would have been the story? 'Bishops at each others' throats!' 'Veneer of calm comes off!' 'Lambeth collapses!' The fact that it was part of the process and - in my view - evidence that the process is proving helpful would be forgotten.

I am having an exchange with Andrew Carey next week which I hope will be helpful. He has responded to my observations a few days ago with generosity and maturely - taking our disagreement out of the public sphere and putting it where it can be addressed for what it is. I respect that and would encourage a more respectful engagement between bishops and journalists. At least let's assume the intergity of the other party.

As for today, it has been excellent. The march was colourful, strong and seems to have made an impact. This wasn't just a gentle stroll by a few western liberals with a bit of a social conscience. Rather, it involved bishops and spouses from some of the poorest, most remote and most oppressed countries of the world. This march was not an academic exercise for them or the rest of us. The pride expressed by so many of these bishops that we had been able to walk through the capital city together, walk past places of power and influence and focus the country's attention on the scandal of poverty was moving. This was the solidarity that defines the Anglican Communion and reminds the Church that it is called to be a sign of the Kingdom of God for the sake of the world 'out there' - that its debates and the manner of its debating matter more for the sake of that world and less for the sake of the institution itself.

At Lambeth Palace we listened in blistering heat to the Archbishop of Canterbury before the Prime Minister spoke. Gordon Brown was almost shocking in the passion of his address and deep well of concern and commitment from which it erupted. I have never heard him speak so passionately, so eloquently or so seriously as he did today. Again, bishops from poor places were deeply impressed and encouraged by his plea that governements should be pressed to commit to eradicating poverty.

What was significant for a domestic audience was the fact that the Prime Minister publicly and powerfully recognised the contribution of the churches and faith communities to shaping the moral agenda for the world and working sacrificially on behalf of the poor and oppressed at home and abroad. Given that Government sometimes seems not to recognise (or to be ignorant of or embarrassed by) the role of the churches, this endorsement was very well heard and received.

I thought we were going to go through Lambeth Palace into the gardens and get a sandwich and a cup of tea. Instead, we were led through toa  giant marquee and seated at tables for a two-course meal. It was wonderful and surprising and generous. It demonstrated what to so many of our non-western guests is vital: that hospitality is of the greatest of virtues. It further enabled people to mix with an even wider group and talk in a relaxed and informal way about serious matters (or 'the elephant in the room' as people keep referring to it).

I discovered afterwards that the menu had been leaked and I now anticipate some clever-clever story about bishops marching for poverty and then enjoying a 'lavish' (they are always 'lavish') lunch before going to Buckingham Palace for more un-poverty-stricken entertainment. I mentioned this a couple of days ago. Is it beyond the realms of possibility that people might recognise that the real story here is simply that bishops representing the poor and oppressed marched in blistering heat, were honoured by the sort of generous hospitality that they would always insist on showing us as their guests, and that these courageous and wonderful people (er... men, actually) were honoured by being given a place in the place of privilege. Let the cynics sneer, but there was something honourable about recognising the power of hospitality and welcoming the stranger as well as could be done.

What I did find a bit weird, though, was all the dressing up at Buckingham Palace. The bishops had it easy - cassocks. The spouses managed well in national dress or smart-casual dress (and some hats). But I have never seen so many bishops wearing little purple/pink skull-caps and other blokes in top hats, tails, frock coats and other stuff. Call me common, but where does all this stuff come from? How often do they get to wear it all? I mean, bishops wear cassocks rather alot (so I am told); but a frock coat?! I realise also that I am letting the side down by not knowing the right names for some of the episcopal headwear, but I guess it stopped the sunstroke.

Tomorrow we resume with our Bible Studies and Indaba Groups. More time will be given to opening up what we see as the priorities for discussion and attempted resolution. I hadn't realised until yesterday that around 70% of the bishops here were not present at the last Lambeth Conference in 1998. This means that for most bishops this is the first time they have met such a range of other bishops in the Anglican Communion. No wonder it takes time and trust to open up to each other - especially those about whom you have heard/read alot, but never previously met. Several bishops pleaded yesterday for other bishops to talk with them and not simply talk about them. Only this way can the myths, misrepresentations and fantasies be dispelled - or, at least, recognised for what they are.

On a personal note, I don't know if I am blogging 'correctly'. I haven't done this before and might be telling the wrong sort of stuff that interests no one. But, I'll keep going and hope that others fill the gaps. In the meantime, I'm going to bed and getting my head in gear for tomorrow.