Fulcrum Blog
Bishop of Croydon blogs from Lambeth 2008

Thanks to Kendall Harmon for his response to my observations on TEC's process. I did realise that voices had been raised about the order of decision making, but I was picking up on what was said by several TEC bishops about their retrospective view of what they had done. But I am grateful for the corrective clarification.

This evening we listened to one of the great thinkers and orators of the English-speaking world: Chief Rabbi Sir Jonathan Sacks. He is known all over the world for his books (especially The Dignity of Difference which caused a storm in the Jewish community and had to be revised for the second edition. Jonathan Sacks is an original thinker and, building on the depths of the Jewish tradition, contributes much to British and European society by his clear analyses of contemporary social developments and the philosophical backdrop to them. He and Rowan Williams are equals when it comes to intellectual depth and their friendship and mutual respect are obvious.

Jonathan Sacks had been asked to address the question, from a Jewish perspective, of 'Covenant'. His full address will be available shortly and lots of journalists were present to listen to him; so, I don't need to go into great detail. But I want to give a taste of what he said because it has a significant suggestion to offer us in our current Communion deliberations.

He began by describing politics (the State), economics (the Market) and worship (Religion) and illustrated very vividly how both State and Market operate on the basis of competition and 'winning'. Covenant, on the other hand, has to do with both parties 'winning' and with creating 'arenas of cooperation'. A contract (politics and economics) is an agreement between two parties who come together for mutual benefit (a transaction), whereas a covenant brings two parties together to share their interests (a relationship). He observed that 'contracts benefit - covenants transform'. He developed and illustrated this from Darwin and Dawkins.

He then went on to go back to the beginning of covenant in the Ancient Near East and pointed out that given the religious/political coincidence of the relevant world view (get the gods on your side in order to guarantee your 'gain'), the idea of a covenant between a god and people was simply absurd. And this, via an explanation of covenantal language in Hosea and Jeremiah, led to his central thesis - which is so suggestive for the Anglican Communion.

He compared the three covenants in Genesis and Exodus: Noah, Abraham and Moses (Sinai). He then posed the question: when did Israel become a nation? Deuteronomy 26 says that they became a nation while in Egypt whereas Exodus 19 says they became a nation when they left Egypt. Sacks says that both are true because they are different sorts of covenant. Egypt was a covenant of fate; Sinai was a covenant of faith. The former occurs when the people are bound together by a common suffering, fear and enemy; the latter occurs when they share dreams, aspirations, ideals and a common hope. In Egypt the people were bound by a covenant of fate, in Sinai by a covenant of faith. So, the covenant with Noah was one of fate (destruction of the world) and with Abraham and Moses was one of faith (shaping the world).

Sacks described how the covenant of fate (with Noah) was forged in desperate times of basic survival. Like the rainbow ('the white light of God' perceived as the spectrum of colours), this covenant bears witness to what Sacks has called 'the dignity of difference'. He broke this down into three elements: (a) the sanctity of human life, (b) the environment and (c) respect for diversity. He expanded on each of these before noting that the Isaiah dream of the 'wolf lying down with the lamb' was already fulfilled in the Ark when their common predicament (survival from drowning) made their mutual cohabitation essential. Faith, said Sacks, is particular; fate is universal.

As covenants of faith begin to fall apart in contemporary society, so it is the covenant of fate that is pulling us together.

Sacks went on movingly and poignantly to describe Jewish fears of Christians for the last thousand years before the Holocaust and beyond. He then noted how Joseph (Genesis 50) worked out that even though we cannot rewrite the past, we can redeem it. In the case of Christians and Jews, he said, the past in now being redeemed (at least in the UK). He then noted how, when we marched together through London last Thursday on behalf of the world's poorest people, we (Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Sikhs, Hindus, etc.) did not share a faith, but we did share a common fate.

Religions, he maintained, needed to show the world how, sharing a common fate, we could live and work together - faiths bound together by a common fate. We should be a blessing to the world by walking together and emphasising the covenant of fate over the particular covenants of faith.

Now, the application of this is obvious. The Anglican Communion is messing about with its internal conflicts and ignoring its role in emphasising the covenant of fate: the need for religious communities to show the world how to live in a world of disintegration in such a way as to make a different world possible - one in which the covenant of faith can be developed.

Following a lengthy standing ovation, Sacks answered questions and received a second standing ovation. He was asked directly for his opinion on the Anglican Covenant and the divisions we are currently experiencing. In response he diffidently, but very affectionately and seriously, described his own experience of having been educated for thirteen years in Church of England schools in North London. He described his respect for Anglicanism as 'awe, wonder and admiration' for how we have held together for the benefit of the 'world'. He insisted we must hold together because what he have and what we offer the world is utterly unique.

He went on to offer reflections on the Middle East and on Jesus, but these observations will have to wait for further reflection by others. The important point I want to highlight by recording all this is the implications of his analysis for where the Anglican Communion is right now. Is his analysis of the 'covenant of fate' being descriptive of our priorities now correct? And, if so, can we find a way through our internal quandaries by focusing on the world's need for the Anglican Communion rather than our sometimes narcissistic preoccupations with internal purity? And what do the Gospels teach us about this (in terms of our mission and purpose in the world)?

I found this lecture extremely powerful and suggestive of a way forward. The world needs not a fragmented church, but one which recognises the urgency of our times and the need to be bound by a common fate that is bigger than the particular predilections of our internal strife.

I hope that gives a flavour of the evening and evokes something of the questions that, raised from outside our community (prophetically?), go to the heart of what we are about this week.

Tomorrow we address questions of power and its abuse. More anon.

One of the remarkable things about this conference is just how intellectually and spiritually stimulating it is. There are days when I think I change my mind on some matters several times. It is an unbelievable privilege to have time with some deeply impressive people - usually the ones who don't know they are 'deeply impressive'.

In this morning's Bible Study we were looking at John 10:1-10 and the significance of Jesus being the 'gate' not only for us personally, but for the Church and the Anglican Communion. We concluded that the being sent out (led by the shepherd) into the world is not an alternative to working at the unity of the Church, but that one cannot happen without the other. This led us into a reflective and serious conversation (in which everyone contributed - as always) about the Anglican Communion and its current questions whihc are to be addressed in a more focused way this week.

One of the interesting elements of this conversation (which I will need to think about a little more when I get the head-space) was the statement by John Zizioulas (Orthodox) at the end of this month's General Synod that 'it is not a synod, it is a parliament'. The notion of the 'bishop in synod' - or of the Church of England being 'episcopally led and synodically governed' - seems to be a bit of a fiction in our present polity. This also reminds me of the first time I realised that when people shout at bishops to 'lead', they really mean 'lead others to agree with me and my priorities.' We want leaders, but when they lead we try to inhibit them.

The apparent lack of trust in bishops is evident at every turn - and often expressed by clergy in language that would have them appealing to the bishop if uttered by their churchwardens about them. But I wonder if there might be a better model that does justice to our ecclesiology and enables the Church to be led more effectively. The irony, of course, is that (as a traditionalist bishop observed to me) this Lambeth Conference is more of a synod than the Synod.

I also had the pleasure this morning of meeting Ishmael Noko again. He is the General Secretary of the Lutheran World Federation and I usually meet him in Kazakhstan. At least he was able to meet my wife and convince her that I really do go to Kazakhstan and really do work hard when I am there - that it isn't just a jolly!

The other thing I have been musing on today is how different people approach a conference like this - especially when they are used to running things and cannot control this one. I attended a conference in Wittenberg, Germany, last year when the German Church (EKD) addressed its ten year reform programme under the title 'Church of Freedom' (Kirche der Freiheit). The 'Impulspapier' divided the church's task into twelve elements that then formed the content of the conference. At the first plenary session a longstanding, more traditional bishop stood up and took the document apart. He claimed that the Church is not the 'Church of Freedom', but the Church of Jesus Christ. This clever statement then enabled several people to dismiss the report and the whole process. They had found the gap - the error - and therefore were absolved from any responsibility to engage with it.

I am reminded of this not because I think this a German problem, but because I think this is how powerful people behave when they don't like being powerless. I think there are bishops here who are behaving like this and find endless fault in everything. I would like to go on a conference organised by them and show them what it is like to have people identify (oh so cleverly) all the other ways in which it could have been done.

I think this process has been remarkable. If others haven't engaged with it and gained from it, that's too bad. But it is only by engaging with it that you stand any chance of getting any gain from it. Furthermore, I am fully committed to getting stuck into whatever we come out with at the end of this conference - whether that be something good or something a bit hopeless. The Church has gone through two millennia of ups and downs and threats and challenges and now is no different. After all, the Church is not the kingdom of God - we are called to be a sign of the Kingdom and that impacts (drives?) not only what we believe but how we live together.

This is significant in the light of this afternoon's second 'hearing'. Of 27 speakers, 23 were westerners (American, English, Irish, Canadian and Australian. Of those 23, 15 were from TEC and they ran the gamut of TEC complexions. Once again, they spoke with passion and clarity, but what was not said about their province was as significant as what they did say. What I think was most significant about this was that the Americans cannot say that their voice has not been listened to and heard. (The other speakers were from Sudan, South India and Egypt.)

This evening we will have the pleasure of listening to Rabbi Jonathan Sacks speaking about 'Covenant'. He is a powerful thinker and is superb on notions around history and memory. I will report what he has to say later, but I am looking forward to further stimulation.

One respondent to this blog has expressed the hope that bishops who have got to know each other so well here will continue their contact and conversation in the future. I have no doubt that this is one of the strongest benefits to the Church of the conference. My Bible Study group will keep in email contact and this will be great for sharing all sorts of stuff.

The last thing I want to say just now is about the journalists here. I have said some quite strong things about them and their presence here in previous posts and I still hold the same views. But I think they deserve great credit fro the way they have handled some of these frustrations. They have not been intrusive and have done their professional image some good in the way they have handled their presence on the campus. I meant to say that a couple of days ago, but ... er ... didn't.

More later.

It is great to see Andrew Burnham blogging. I am a bit worried that Mike and I have photos of us looking scruffy whereas Andrew is fully vested with his mitre on. I assume there is no significance in this, but, then again, you never quite know...

I was interested in his comments on 'being marginalised'. I have heard the mantra of 'we haven't moved - it is the rest of the church that has moved from us' many times. I think I couldn't have been an Anglican in the first place is I stood where Andrew stands. I am sure we will discuss this alot in the times to come. But his contribution to the blogosphere is welcome as it is very different in tone and content from mine or Mike's.

I also thought Tom Wright's mid-term letter (on this site) is a good and concise 'state of the union'. I even saw him smile yesterday!

I have come home to Croydon for 24 hours and will be returning to Canterbury later this afternoon. This brief break has allowed a little perspective to be gained and some thinking to be done. I am not sure it has done me any good, though, because I have just listened to Greg Venables on the radio and had a glance at the CEN - and my temperature has risen.

Yesterday I witnessed two American bishops disagreeing with each other. One very angrily and passionately complained about the treatment of TEC by the rest of the Anglican Communion and spoke 'on behalf of' the American House of Bishops. His brother bishop came in later and objected to this (politely and respectfully), making the point that' you were speaking not for the House of Bishops, but for yourself'. He disagreed with the former's analysis and conclusions. I mention this because I am getting sick of hearing people speak 'on behalf of' others or as some sort of unofficial authority on the mood of the conference as a whole. (A blog, of course, is by definition subjective.)

On Radio 4 this morning Greg Venables gave a jaundiced and predictable response to the conference. I could have scripted his answers for him. But he did not represent the mood of the conference and it needs to be said that he only speaks for himself. Given that he spoke to the nation (and beyond) on the BBC, I will respond to a number of points he made:

1. He began by speaking (and I quote) of 'nice people with good will'. Would he prefer the bishops to be unpleasant people of bad will? Is it not good that the conference is characterised by good will? Clearly, what he means is that people who are nice and of good will are ineffectual when it comes to addressing difficult issues. This is patent nonsense and I for one do not like being patronised in this way - especially as the corollary of this is that Venables sees himself as the brave no-nonsense leader who would go straight for the issue, overcoming all hesitation or reservation rooted in consideration of factors beyond 'the issue' (such as language, relationship, etc.). Some of his own bishops do not agree with his stance or behaviour, but I wonder how he will respond if they decided to ask for 'help' from other provinces.

2. He claims that people are 'uptight' and describes the atmosphere as 'extremely tense'. He speaks of 'suppressed anger' and uses the word 'frustrated' several times. I think he is describing himself and some of his mates. It is absurd to speak in this way of the whole conference. Perhaps he ought to mix a bit more.

3. Please, oh please, will people stop referring to 'the elephant in the room' (in Venables' case the animal is more precisely located in the 'living room')? We are meant to infer from this that the matter of homosexuality, the ordination/consecration of gay people, the reasons for the rupture in the Communion and all matters associated with it have been sidestepped in the first week of the conference. This is rubbish, nonsense and a lie. There is no hidden elephant in the room - various aspects of the elephant are being discussed everywhere and in every room on the campus. What Venables means is that we didn't do a plenary debate on day one and have a blazing row which would justify his position. Show me a Bible Study group that has not touched on or focused on these matters. Show me an Indaba group that has not addressed in some way and to some extent these matters. What about the afternoon self-select groups that are focused on these matters specifically? What about the conversations, provincial meetings, etc where these matters are constantly being discussed? The truth is that nothing is being sidestepped or avoided, but the control freaks who want to guarantee their particular outcome have not got the patience to go with the process.

This first week has consciously been about growing the relationships and allowing for conversation, discussion, learning and questioning at  non-confrontational level in order that when we get on to the more focused work this coming week we will have developed relationships of respect and understanding, will have learned things about each other (and each other's real context) we didn't know before and will have understood better the matters we have to address and resolve one way or another.

I think this is a more respectful and wiser way of doing this business than starting off in entrenched positions and fulfilling the self-generated prophecies of those who do not want change, but simply want to be proved right in their miserable predictions. Greg Venables is speaking for himself alone when he says we 'haven't got to grips' with these matters. I think what he means is that we 'are getting to grips with these matters without giving him or anyone else the dominant platform' - and he doesn't like it.

So, what does this mean? Well, let me say something about what I have learned in the week we have just had. In my Indaba group we have gone round and all 17 provinces represented have explained the law on marriage in their own countries and the status of marriage and same-sex relationships both in law and in their Church. It is absolutely clear that not one province authorises same-sex blessings. Not one authorises (or even agrees with?) same-sex 'marriage'. 'Marriage' has been consistently and unanimously affirmed to be between a man and a woman. Civil Partnerships in the UK are not 'marriage'. I  have even heard an American bishop publicly say that despite his liberal views about same-sex relationships and his approval of Gene Robinson, if one of his priests celebrated a same-sex blessing in his church, he would prosecute the said priest in their courts for unlawful activity. I think some non-western 'conservatives' are beginning to understand that the situation is not quite as they had been led to believe and that 'our' context is not equivalent to their's.

I have learned that it is possible for people of vastly divergent view to talk properly and respectfully in the same room. I have learned that there is a more massive gap between cultures than I thought was there and that many differences are rooted not in theology but in culture. I have been asked by a puzzled African bishop why men need to go with other men: 'is it because there aren't enough women to go round?' Unpack that one.

I really want to move on, but I want first to make a comment on the CEN. The front page headline is a scandalous misrepresentation of reality. 'Call for gay bishop to resign rocks Lambeth'. The call for Gene Robinson to resign is hardly a new one! The conference was not 'rocked' in any perceptible way - except, maybe, for the journalists who are desperate for a story of collapse. The Sudanese statement was discussed sensibly all over the place. Like Greg Venables, this is a case of individuals projecting onto everybody else their particular anxieties and neuroses. The rest of the CEN is not worth commenting on.

I have been asked about my view of TEC and the Gene Robinson saga. So, let me address this as concisely as I can. At a purely pragmatic level, TEC should never have proceeded to the consecration of Robinson before having addressed theologically and ecclesiologically the matter of the blessing of same-sex relationships. The fact that they put the cart before the horse has led not only to the problems we now face, but also to an inner incoherence within TEC itself. As an outsider, I wonder why no one had the intelligence to spot this one earlier. To give them their due (and I don't have any inclination to defend the Americans on this or any other front - don't get me started on their unilateralism, ignorance of the wider world, misplaced collective self-confidence and blindness to their own national contradictions), some TEC bishops recognise this and are now realising what they have done. Their plea to be 'talked to' and not just 'talked about' is a fair one and, I believe, is being heeded in this conference.

TEC's polity reflects the polity (and democratic assumptions) of the USA itself. I think its internal polity makes bishops not leaders, but servants of their synods. This further makes clear that there is little in common between the role of a bishop in the USA, South London or Burundi (particularly in relation to authority) and this needs to be addressed within the Communion.

My interim conclusion (which, of course, is subjective and open to challenge or change) is that the process this last week has served us extremely well. We are entering the second week with a better chance of speaking more clearly (and better informed), listening more clearly (and with better 'linguistic' comprehension) and coming to clearer conclusnions than would have been possible had we simply gone at the issues in the same old way as in the past. It still remains to be seen whether we will make it work. I am suspicious of the constant whingers and nitpickers who will probably accuse Rowan of making the sunshine too hot in order to make people feel more tired. I am suspicious of some of the prima donnas who seek out a microphone or a camera and seem to see themselves as important players in their own private dramas - I think we call it narcissism. I am concerned that certain people might try to hijack proceedings. But, more than anything, I remain confident that this process will prove to have been the right one for this time and place. There are no guarantees about outcomes, but I am sure we can, under the grace of God and the guidance of the Holy Spirit, end next week in a better place.

I will return to Canterbury shortly. I need to check out one or two things when I get there. For example, I was told that the Pidgin language spoken in Papua New Guinea has been heavily influenced by Australia. Apparently, the word for something that is broken is 'buggerupthing' and the word for 'home' is 'arseplace'. I have got to learn this language! More later...

If you want to see what sneering responses you get when you write (unpaid, of course) for a national newspaper, click here. My response hasn't appeared on the site. I suggested that Damian Thompson try harder not to miss the point and try to grow up a little.

On the other hand, I guess it was a hostage and I walked into it (to mix my metaphors rather badly).

I'll think twice before doing anything else for them.

Another scorching day and temperatures rising. And so they should, too. Some real business is getting attended to here and some of the western bishops appear to be rather cross that they can't control this conference in the way they are used to.

In response to Pete Broadbent (who should be here, not shooting from outside), I have not revised my view in the light of the 'briefing sheets' issued to TEC bishops. We have known about these (and have copies) since before the conference began. Is Pete suggesting that he wouldn't do something similar in preparation by TEC (but without writing it down?)?

The point is that some Indaba groups are working better than others. The key difference seems to be that some of the facilitators are more able than others to allow the process to be re-shaped by the group. Our group has a superb facilitator and he allowed us to take the group where we want and address the priorities we decide upon. (I'll say more about today later.) But it is clear that some facilitators come from cultures where you follow the script you have been given - and in these cases there is some frustration being felt. However, this appears not to be the norm, but the exception. Beware of people who extrapolate from their particular experience to the general...

I begin to get cross here not because of over-scrupulous or conformist facilitators, but because of the whingeing of people who should know better. I went to a meeting this afternoon which was like being back in primary school. We are adults and leaders who should be mature and creative enough to take what we are presented with, work it in conjunction with others and then take responsibility for our handling of the process and any outcomes from it. I wonder if some bishops simply want to distance themselves so that when the process gets sticky later next week, they can disclaim responsibility. I hope I am wrong.

As for the conspiracy theorists, I am losing patience. Yes, there needs to be a comprehensible and communicable outcome at the end of next week. Yes, there needs to be a process to enable this to happen. Yes, there is the potential for some people to try to hijack this and 'win' their argument. And yes, the sky might fall in and the Archbishop of York run off with the organist. It is blindingly obvious that these matters are being worked on and that the dangers are obvious and recognised. But it is also blindingly obvious that this Indaba process is opening up conversations and realisations we could only have dreamed of even several weeks ago. Whatever decisions will eventually be made, they will be better informed and made knowing something of the impact they will have on others.

In my view, the process is immensely valuable in itself and offers a model worth looking at in the wider church. I think, in the light of this experience, I would do housegroups differently if I was in a parish again. The General Synod could learn something from this intelligent and respectful and informed way of engaging and ensuring that voices are heard and responsibility taken by all. Indaba cannot be rushed (whihc is difficult in this context), but it is based on relationship and honesty. I genuinely impressed that, if taken seriously and done with integrity, it cannot easily be subverted by the powermongers.

Now, I am not naive. Yes, of course there are manipulative people huddling around the campus (apparently) doing their plotting. But the Holy Spirit is also at work here bringing light and revelation where there has been darkness and misrepresentation - on all sides. How do you think Americans would hear a bishop from the Congo saying: 'We are called 'the homosexual church' and subject to ridicule in our land.'? But, equally, how would an African 'conservative' hear a South American describe how the Anglican Church in his country was the only one to speak out to protect homosexuals when a death squad was established to eliminate gay people?

This morning was informative also because bishops from different provinces explained what is really going on 'back home'. For example, it clearly came as news to some in my group that in England we do not have such a thing as 'gay marriage'. Civil Partnerships are specifically not 'marriage'. The Church of England has no rite/liturgy for the blessing of same-sex partnerships and, therefore, does not sanction them. This is fact, regardless of whether particular bishops agree or disagree whether this should be the case. But many Africans have been told lies and believed them - I was told today that the Church of England 'does man-man marriage'. The discussion this morning was open, passionate, informed and respectful and it felt like a privilege to be there.

What does worry me, however, is a point I had come across in Zimbabwe, but not really connected with until now. When Christianity came in the form of Anglicanism to African countries it came with the cultural accoutrements of English colonial life. When I asked a Zimbabwean bishop last year why they don't write their own indigenous liturgies and why they follow only the BCP (17th century vernacular English), I was told that this is what the missionaries brought with them. Christianity was synonymous with the trappings: BCP language and liturgy, English Victorian hymns, English vestments and robes, etc. To ditch (or 'move on from') any of these would be synonymous with changing the faith itself or moving on from (or 'changing') the Gospel itself.

This has emerged here, too. Many times I have heard African bishops say something like: 'The missionaries brought the faith to us and said what we should and should not do according to the Bible. Now you want to change what the Bible says.' The problem seems to be that only in the case of sexual taboos does this rigidity apply. We don't hear much about the ditching of slavery - although slavery was a 'given' in some colonial missionary environments. It is clearer than ever that hermeneutics lies pretty centrally to our debates.

I was also struck by the analysis of a liberal British bishop this morning (in a positive understanding of Akinola's positioning) according to which a Nigerian 'Sharia' approach to law conflicts with a western 'human rights' approach. This clash of values needs to be acknowledged and addressed, too. The point for us is that the championing of one value can compromise another: for example, mercy might compromise justice. There is much here about which I need to think - when I get the time and space. It certainly helped me re-think Akinola.

Getting back to lessons learned, I think it came as a bit of a shock for some non-westerners to discover that it is only the (Anglican) Episcopal Church in the USA that stands up and opposes Bush on climate change and the effects of global warming. Visitors from, for example, Papua New Guinea and Madagascar have been describing how entire villages (including churches) have been disappearing because of flooding and other changes in the climate. It seems odd to them that the Church they think is unilaterally pro-gay is also the Church that gets accused of being 'unpatriotic' for defending them in the USA. (The evangelicals in the USA generally oppose anything that dares to cut back their power, money or industrial development - they should learn to read the Old Testament warnings to 'empires' that love hubris and reject any sacrifice in the interests of others.)

Incidentally, in the Bible Study group this morning I countered one bishop's proposal for how the Communion might find its way through its present conflict by saying it didn't stand a 'snowball in hell's chance' of being taken seriously. He responded with a smile and the devastating rejoinder: 'Nor did the feeding of the 5000.' Touche!

One of the statements being heard here more frequently is that this is the sort of conversation we should have been having twenty years ago - that we should have adopted the Indaba-style method at the 1998 Conference, but that it is now too late. This is a point Theo Hobson made when I debated with him during the week on the Today Programme on Radio 4. But surely they aren't saying that therefore we shouldn't be doing it now?! Well, I think they might just be suggesting that. But it is nonsense.

Some of us (particularly the younger bishops who have a few years ahead of us...) are really enjoying this conference. We are not politically naive and are not blindly positive. But we are onto something here that I think has the potential to change the way we do our decision-making in the Church in the future.

I'll finish for now with a theme from this morning's Bible Study. Jesus stops the stoning of the woman caught in adultery, then invites those without sin to throw the stones. He goes on to address those 'Jews who had believed him' with some questioning of their memory ('we have never been slaves' - what, then, was the Exodus about... or the exile in Babylon?) and their certainties. Then they start to stone him.

Jesus seems to have quite a lot to do with stone-throwing and how to stop it and escape from it.

Off to the Chinese with my mates, having just knocked off a comment piece for the Telegraph which can be read at www.telegraph.co.uk/opinion/main.jhtml?xml=/opinion/2008/07/25/do2507.xml.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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!

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 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.