From Muntzer to Geering

Perhaps the only connecting point between two posts I want to draw attention to this week is that I studied at Knox Theological Hall for my first degree. The two posts are on fellow Down Under John Sandeman's blog, The Other Cheek. The first is about Thomas Muntzer and Martin Luther. In today's political speak, if Martin Luther was "centre-right" then Thomas Muntzer was "extreme right" or, maybe, "extreme left." The second is about NZ's most famous ever home grown theologian, Lloyd Geering, who died a couple of days ago at the age of 108 (and holding the then title of "NZ's oldest man"). The connecting point - and it is a very loose connecting point - is that Lloyd Geering's first teaching post was at Knox Theological Hall, Dunedin, which was where he became famous for being tried for heresy, and one of my most memorable courses when I was a student at the same Hall (but well after Geering had moved onto his second teaching position, at Victoria University, Wellington) was about Thomas Muntzer. Maybe the stronger connecting point is that both Geering and Muntzer have been viewed by others as heretics!

"Stranger than you thought: Luther, Muntzer and the Peasant Wars" is the title of The Other Cheek's post (actually written by Charles Brammell) about a new consideration(s) of what Muntzer was about when he led the so-called Peasants Rebellion. I will leave you to read the post (because it is a bit complicated and time-consuming to neatly summarise the various new considerations) suffice to say that when we survey what is going on in some streams of global Christianity, we could deduce some parallels in the age old tension between theological and political differences among Christians.

"Once tried for Heresy: NZ's Oldest Man Lloyd Geering Meets Jesus" is the title of the second post. The title picks up on something I have noticed elsewhere on social media, that when a theologian's main thesis is that God is not a being separate to the earthbound experience of life, there may be a bit of a shock when God, met in the risen Jesus, after death, clearly is separate from the horizon of this life. Unless Geering is correct! My reflection here, however, is first on Sandeman's observations about the state of Anglican and Presbyterian denominations here, and then on Paul Morris's observations about Geering's effect on liberal Christianity in these islands.

On the first, we read:

"New Zealand’s scene bears the marks of Geering. The traditional protestant churches- Methodist, Presbyterian and Anglican are dominated by progressives or liberals, with evangelicals in a (small?) minority. 

There are large Pentecostal churches, but there is a tendency for these to be aligned with right-wing politics, with Destiny Church, for example. Nelson Diocese in the Anglicans in the Province of Aotearoa New Zealand remains a Kiwi echo of the Diocese of Sydney. The Open Brethren, organised as the Christian Community Churches of NZ, have 170 to 202 assemblies. Baptist Churches of New Zealand (Te Hāhi Iriiri o Aotearoa) draw some 25,000 people each Sunday to their 250 evangelical churches. Conservative Presbyterians joined various breakaway churches into the Grace Presbyterian Church in NZ, which is similar to the Presbyterian Church of Australia, in 2002. The GPs have 27 local churches."

I think Presbyterians and Anglicans here would be bemused by the thought that we are "dominated by progressives or liberals". That is not to say that we are, conversely, dominated by "conservatives" such as conservative evangelicals. It is just to say that (1) we are a mixed bag (if looking at us through lens of "progressive/liberal/conservative") and (2) the style of liberalism/progressivism associated with the Lloyd Geerings of old is out of favour within the life of NZ churches.

The latter, incidentally, is a point within Paul Morris's observations, as cited by John Sandeman. Whether that going out of favour in NZ is as much of a responsibility of Geering himself as those observations adduce is, I think, a moot point. Liberal theology - arguably reached a highpoint in the Western world in the 1960s and 1970s - as it led ways of thinking about being Christian which diminished the importance of miracles for establishing the divinity of Jesus (cf. Geering's own published work on the resurrection). But (as Morris notes) heading along that pathway also raised the question, Why bother with church? If Christianity is essentially ethical rather than encounter with the divine (with corporate worship as a response), there is no need to go to church. Fast forward 50 or so years and we see the effects: people in church, any church, are predominantly not liberal/progressive.

I met Lloyd Geering once. He was one of the nicest people I have ever met in my life. I would not care to have met with Thomas Muntzer. He seems like one of the scariest people you could ever meet!

Whanganui Revitalised and Replanted

Last week representative clergy and lay leaders from the seven Pakeha dioceses met in Whanganui [Diocese of Wellington] for a two day forum on revitalizing and replanting churches, reflecting on the possibilities for revitalizing and/or replanting a congregation. Our reflections were spurred on by meeting across four different Anglican church locations in this city - central Whanganui, Castlecliff, Gonville, East Whanganui - to hear from local leaders about the history of the past dozen years of so. In those years there was an initial phase in which four parishes prayed and discussed a new future, eventually agreeing to become one parish. 

In the phase of being one parish - for the last eight years or so - some churches have been sold, and some important property work has taken place or is in the process of taking place in the four church buildings we visited. Along the way, some churches have been "fallow" for a period - no worship taking place on Sundays, for example, though the building may have been used for community purposes and/or a mid week communion service. I am not attempting here to give a detailed history - that is their story to tell - rather to draw out some "broad brush strokes" points of interest from that story for myself and our diocese as we also contemplate various changed futures for some of our parishes.

One recurring question for our discussions as we broke into small groups to respond to what we heard in presentations at each of the locations was the question of whether a parish which is experiencing its ministry and mission as needing significant strengthening and renewal should be 

- "revitalised" (by one means or another, it continues but with a plan for renewal, some new people coming into lead a way forward) or (after an appropriate closing down) 

- "replanted" (so that, after a fallow period, a genuine new start is made, with new vision, new energy and new people, all after much prayer and reflection).

In discussions I was in, there was no determination that one is the way forward and the other is not. Both revitalization and replanting feature in the collective story of the four parishes becoming one parish with four churches. As we reflected together from across our different dioceses, keeping one reflective eye on the situations we had come from and to which we would return, we could see that for this situation revitalization might be "best fit" for the present context and to fulfil a vision for the futre, and for another situation, replanting might be a more assured pathway to a stronger future.

The people who presented to us were impressive in their commitment, competency and calibre as Christian ministry and mission leaders, which is a reminder that, whatever we seek to do as church, whether to maintain well, to grow, to revitalize, to replant or even to "new" plant, we need called, gifted people whose hearts are open to God's leading. As four churches work within one parish, it was also clear that for any new way for the church which involves a team of leaders, there must be good chemistry between the leaders, and that was apparent, both as we observed the whole parish team and the smaller teams at work in each church.

A wonderful fruit of this process through the past dozen or so years, is that congregational life is growing in Whanganui. There are not currently heaps and heaps of stories of Kiwi Anglican church life flourishing and growing, so where there are such stories, there is much to celebrate. Thanks be to God!

Really, all we need to say Anglicanly this week has been said ... by the ABC

Someone on X said that the ABC, Sarah Mullaly has made an excellent speech. I think so too. The context is a gathering of the so called Poorvoo Communion - 15 Anglican and Evangelical Lutheran churches in Europe.

The full text of the speech is here. It is entitled, "Being the Church in Turbulent Times."

Key paragraphs include:

"So the question is not simply: What should the Church say in turbulent times? Perhaps the more important question is: What does it mean to be the Church in such a time?

I want to suggest three things. (1) The Church must be a community that remembers; (2) a community that refuses fear; and (3) a community that makes visible the reconciliation it proclaims in Jesus Christ."

"To be the Church today means inhabiting that larger story of hope: creation and covenant, incarnation and cross, resurrection and Pentecost. The Church belongs to Christ before it belongs to any nation, political culture, ideology or age.

That memory gives us humility, because the Kingdom of God can never simply be identified with one political programme; and freedom, because Christians need not accept the terms of every political argument as though they were the only terms available. We possess another grammar, a Christological one, infused by grace and hope: repentance, forgiveness, reconciliation, neighbour, stranger, communion."

"Fear is one of the most powerful forces in political and social life: fear of the stranger, decline, insecurity, cultural change – ultimately, fear of one another. It can turn communities inward and persuade us that security is possible only through exclusion.

The Church must resist that logic. Not because Christians are naïve about human nature, but because our deepest identity is not constructed against another person. In baptism we receive an identity that precedes nationality, class, ethnicity and political allegiance. We become members of one body – the body of Christ.

The Church should therefore be one of the places where people who would not otherwise choose one another learn to belong to one another. Communion is is the refusal to let disagreement destroy relationship."

"Beyond creating ecclesiastical complexity, more importantly Christian division compromises our witness. If we preach reconciliation while remaining content with separation, something is wrong.

The ecumenical movement therefore cannot be something we only engage with during easier times. Communion across national borders matters when nationalism grows stronger; friendship across political cultures matters when societies polarise; shared baptism matters when identities are increasingly defined against one another."

There is more ... and it is good! Happy reading.

A little further on politics and our general "AI" election

The other day I had an opportunity to hear from one of the leaders of our political parties contesting the imminent general election in our country (7 November 2026). For the purposes of this post it doesn't matter which leader or which political party.

The talk I heard reminded me of days of yore - the 1970s, before social media - when to get the real oil from politicians you needed to go to a town hall or community hall in person to hear them speak in person. No sound bites reproduced in a tweet or Facebook post - a good solid 30 minutes plus of high class oratory. In my memory both Bill Rowling and Rob Muldoon were excellent orators. (For overseas readers, these two were respectively leaders of the two main, and opposing parties of those days, Labour and National.)

What struck me, listening to a well delivered speech with interesting content, was how persuasive it all seemed. By the end of the speech I had just about convinced myself I could cast my vote accordingly ... which definitely reminded me of the 1970s when I would hear a great speech or read a book by a leading politician and it would all seem very convincing. Except that in the voting booth I needed to choose one convincing party programme over another! What to do, then and now?

In the end, on further reflection after the recent, persuasively delivered speech, I am not convinced that some policy proposals (and consequential promises of a better life for us Kiwis) stack up. Change proposed to make for less expensive household bills - maybe, maybe not - there are arguments for and against that are in the provenance of experts, not merely politicians harvesting votes. Spending money (which may be borrowed money) to save money, ditto. Looking back on my teenage less than well formed critical thinking, I didn't then have the capacity to assess content compared to rhetoric about what was being offered. If I have that capacity now it is enhanced by a much better grasp of the general principles of economics than I had in those days. (Disclaimer: I know more than I knew then, and I think better than I thought then, but that doesn't mean I have nothing more to learn or no further progress needing to be made on my thinking capabilities.)

Capacity to critically think about things is a refreshed issue for this election, not only because of the variety of policy proposals and promises of good times ahead "if you vote for us, because we will ..." but because this election is the first election in the era when AI is now itself a promise delivered and a harbinger ahead of ... good times? Bad times? World control? Mass unemployment?

Wherever we may go in this AI era, and whatever policies are on offer re AI (including our commitment to develop or restrain establishment of data centres), it would be good to have a policy on educational development of critical thinking!

The Anglican connection to these musings is that both our General Synod and our Diocesan Synod have recentl commissioned working groups to do some work on what AI means for and within the life of the church.

This post is all my own work :).

Thoughts on our election coming up

I have a natural-and-episcopal interest in the forthcoming NZ general election (7 November 2026). The "natural" bit is that I have always been interested in politics, the "episcopal" bit is because our Cathedral ReOpen Project is looking for $15m of further funding commitment in order for us to re-open our cathedral's nave, tower and west porch. With such commitment, we begin construction again, without it, well, we have some difficult conversations ahead of us. 

One possibility for a further commitment of required funds lies with Winston Peters and the New Zealand First party who have pledged to bring support for $15m of central government funding for the project to the coalition negotiating table if they are invited to that table. Pretty much every political set of tea leaves points to that invitation only occurring if the "centre right" gets to form the table of negotiation. If the "centre left" gets to form the table, they will not need to invite NZ First to discussions about the formation of a new government.

To date, the polls undertaken by different polling entities seem united in their refusal to offer a clear prediction of the winning left or right combo, so it looks like the only thing to do is to be patient, wait quietly (both Christians virtues!) and turn on the television and/or radio on the night of 7 November. Of course it is possible that by the end of that evening, the results might be still too close to call - special votes to be counted over the next couple of weeks etc. More patient waiting required! If NZ First does get to the table of negotiation it could be weeks (or weeks and weeks) until clarity emerges about what, from each party's policy wish list, has crossed the line into common policy for the new government. More patient waiting required.

For clarity, this post is not intended to persuade you to vote for any party in the election, not even for NZ First. But please vote. I do think not voting at all hands decision-making to others. In a democracy every citizen should weigh matters up and vote so the end result represents the influence of all citizens. I understand that there is no perfect party for everyone, and often that lack of perfection is keenly felt by Christians (How can I vote for the party with the best economic credentials when it also supports, say, a more liberal abortion law?). But politics is the art of compromise and just sometimes Christians ought to compromise - voting in a general election or a local body election is one of those "sometimes."

What is at stake in our coming election? Quite a lot, as it happens, though perhaps we would say that about every election. Here is a not-comprehensive list: 

- the economy (what can we afford by way of priorities in health, welfare, education, defence, social services (including police, corrections)? We currently borrow money to pay for things and tax ourselves to pay for things: could we borrow more? Should we borrow less? Ditto, tax more, tax less?); 

- the economy (how do we lift productivity, something many economic pundits (from all sides) observe is that NZ has scarcely lifted productivity in recent decades, and one explanation for our sliding descent down various rankings of OECD nations is due to this lack of decent productivity lift?); 

- the economy (what is the right level of commitment to the things government (assisted by the tax payer and borrowings) pays for? To take an extreme, presumably we could pay for the most advanced level of healthcare in the world, including the most expensive treatments for cancers if we canned all superannuation payments ... but no one is going to vote for that, but we (rightly) argue what level of healthcare should be provided and whether superannuation at current settings is affordable as we look ahead with precise predictions re population of seniors increasing etc!);

- the economy (what does the Treaty of Waitangi mean in respect of how we live in partnership, Maori and Pakeha, with observable economic disparities between Maori and Pakeha, one example of which is that if the age of superannuation was lifted, even fewer Maori would get to enjoy superannuated older age).

OK - a bit of bias here - I think politics is heavily inter-connected with economics! We look to the government to do things for us (as individuals, as communities, as Maori/Pakeha, men/women, seniors/youth/children, school leavers and graduates looking for work, city dwellers/rural dwellers, etc/etc) but nearly everything we seek costs $$$. More schools, $$$. More teachers in existing schools, $$$. School lunches, $$$. You get my drift.

In this election, each party (I notice) is offering to do things, things that cost $$$, and more (or less) giving some kind of plausible account of how the $$$ will be found to do these things. What is arguably fascinating about this election is the strong sensitivity by all parties as to the economic situation we are in: parlous (there are not many spare $$$) and perilous (uncertainty about the global economic situation is high, very high as fuel prices surge, wars are fought and peace is avoided by certain leaders of nations not called Aotearoa New Zealand). No party is promising the earth, yet no party is promising an austerity pathway to new economic prosperity.

Of course other things are interesting about the election: neither Labour nor National seems able to command support consistently above 30%, and their combined totals on recent polls is the lowest ever for our two major parties. Does this betoken an interest in minor parties seemingly in common with what is happening in (say) Australia, UK, France, Germany? Or are the minor parties here (none of which, thankfully, is extreme as the extreme minor parties of afore-mentioned countries) showing policy boldness the two main parties ought to be showing? 

All will be revealed ... on, or after, 7 November 2026!

What kind of substance is Substance?

 Bosco Peters has posted an "essential" reading explanation of the meaning of "substance" in relation to "Transubstantiation", here.

Comments on his post should be made at his blog, not here. But I am glad to link to his post as clarity of thought on "substance" as well as on "real presence" can be lacking in discussion and debate on these matters in Anglican circles (and, as Bosco points out, Catholic circles also). The tendency is to fall prey to simplicity of thought in the face of a great mystery.

A few thoughts of my own:

- any account of the significance of the bread and wine of communion must account well for the "is" in "This is my body ... this is my blood" and do so with reference to the Synoptic and 1 Corinthians 11 accounts of the last supper, John 6 and the participatory language in 1 Corinthians 10. Broadly speaking "real presence" does this in a way which "memorialism" (all we are doing is remembering that Jesus died for us) or "representationism" (the bread represents the body of Christ etc) does not.

- there are "both/ands" involved in this mystery: Jesus is really present and (as Bosco notes) the bread and the wine are symbols - powerful symbols - and "representations" (in the sense of re-presenting to us the body and blood of Christ" and our participation matters (as those present at communion (with our bodies; together being "the body of Christ"), as those giving thanks in our hearts for what Jesus has done for us, as those eating the bread of communion and drinking the wine of communion by faith receiving these elements as the body and blood of Jesus).

The Cauldron - Simon Sebag Montefiore on the Middle East

Simon Sebag Montefiore The Cauldron: The Making of the Modern Middle East 1900-2026 (London: Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 2026)

I was excited to see notice of this book, manoeuvred family affections to receive it as a gift for Father's Day, and now I have read it, have not been disappointed by it. 

Montefiore writes well, keeps sections of each chapter brief and to the point, and breathlessly flicks across those sections from one country to another as the tale of several empires, a dozen or so countries, many cities, and the fables of diverse emirs, imams, pashas, sultans, kings, presidents, plotters and premiers are told. 

Along the way we meet many a familiar terrorist and autocrat and learn the dangers of foreign interventionism by middling, large and super powers. With some rare and all too readily forgotten exceptions of peace and good-will periods, the Middle East (here meaning from Morocco to Iran, from Turkey to South Sudan) has been a cauldron for these past 127 years. There have been a lot of deaths, whether through war, massacre, genocide, or repression of protests. Has any single death or multiple set of deaths since 1900 brought lasting calm to the cauldron, let alone paved the way for peace in the next few years? It appears not, is one conclusion to draw from the book.

Also along the way, we may learn some new information, as I did, when I read (p. 148) that the British in 1946, via foreign secretary Bevin, described as a "splenetic Jew-hater", for a final time 

"offered Palestinian Arabs an independent Palestine with no Jewish state." 

An offer in 1939 had also been made by the Brits. That is, when the current State of Israel in some conversations I listen into is described as an outcome of (once again) British colonization of a foreign land, there was, in fact, a different British-led outcome possible for the Arabs of Palestine. The response?

"The mufti, who had narrowly escaped prosecution as a Nazi war criminal, still controlled the Palestinian Arab delegation and again he refused an independent Palestine." 

No doubt the mufti had his reasons but I am left with the question, how might the anguish we experience today over the course of current destructive events in Gaza and the West Bank be so very different if this offer had been taken up?

The story of the wider Middle East through these past 127 years is a story of many deaths, much heartbreak, oppressive rulers, malignant imperial ambitions (not only held by Britain, France, Russia and the USA ... hello Turkey, Iran, Egypt, Libya, Saudi Arabia, Syria and Israel), opportunities taken and opportunities turned down, and extremism, both the extreme wealth for some that oil has made available and the extreme positions held by some followers of major faiths. In Montefiore's telling there is nevertheless some reason for hope for a better future than the history of these past years implies: the fanatics of religious sects, with their "alien new ideologies" are not actually recognised by the majority of Middle Eastern peoples for whom their faith has taught them "loving kindness" and who not "invested in [the fanatics'] cycles of butchery, bigotry and ideology." (p. 422)

Nevertheless the challenge is to convert hope to lasting peaceful reality. That conversion is not in sight but Montefiore rightly observes the importance of the majority finding a way to better understand one another:

"Ignorance is the father of righteous certainty, hatred and slaughter; knowledge is the mother of respect for others, alliance, sharing and tolerance. Knowledge is an elixir, the antidote to the poisons of supremacy, bigotry and ignorance. Peace is only possible when a majority in any society hears and accepts the narrative of others. That is the mission of this book." (p. 422)

I would add to this charter for the way forward the importance of forgiveness. The Cauldron recites again and again the pain and loss experienced by many people, injury and devastation which fuels bitterness and has led to multiple quests for revenge and retribution. There is, when all is said and done, only one way to break cycles of violence motivated by past crimes against humanity and historic losses of life and land: to forgive one another.

With respect to the foremost conflict which drives our Western interest in the Middle East, and likely motivates readers here to buy this book or borrow it from a local library, conflict in the Holy Land and conflict about the Holy Land, Montefiore makes the astute observation that current interest 

"is now so intense and widespread that Israel-Palestine has literally become a domestic issue in many parts of Europe and North America ... [It] is just the latest chapter in the West's strange proprietorial interest in the Holy Land that started in the late first millennia after Christ and is still going strong. Between 1914 and the 2000s, this spirit worked in favour of a Jewish state; in the last twenty years, the same obsession has inverted against it. The emotive, ideological campaign to replace the Judaic republic with a state of Palestine is ostensibly secular but often has the feel of a religious movement, even a crusade." (p. 420)

Where to from here for the Holy Land? Even as I have been reading the book these past few weeks, the destructive vindictiveness of the extremist-led Israeli government has killed more Palestinians and stolen more land. It is difficult if not impossible to see a pathway to peace for the Holy Land, to keep hope alive for a viable future for two distinct peoples. It remains the cauldron within The Cauldron.

What encourages me?

All sorts of things encourage me, but I think one of the most encouraging things for me as bishop (i.e. a person with particular worries and concerns - :) - about how some 54 ministry units in a diocese are doing at any one time) is news of (or first hand experience of) growth and development and/or new people joining our ministry units and/or strong ministry units continuing to be strong, if not growing from strength to strength.

Yesterday, I went to a service in one of our churches, arriving as morning tea between two services was being served. What a buzz there was. And, what a lot of new faces. The new faces are being noticed - parishioners told me about what they themselves are seeing as new people arrive week after week. There was a definite shout out by parishioners who talked to me to an emphasis through past months on the parish prayer meeting Encouragement number 1 for the day.

Encouragement number 2 came later in the day, with several reports of an excellent special youth-led service in another ministry unit. 25 young people present, 25 children present.

Praise the Lord! Thank you, God!

Yes, there is a lot going on around the Anglican world to discourage us (I am choosing not to link to various sad stories, but you can find them: thanks Google AI), or, looking more secularly, a lot in the general world this week to disturb us, measured in part by fuel prices zooming upwards again.

But how exciting to see that in the midst of toils and troubles, God is at work in people's hearts, and, in the mercy of God, some of those people being moved by God inwardly are finding themselves moving outwardly towards our ministry units.

Kororia ki Te Atua.

Pointing to Taonga

Still short of time. A lot is going on, including a tangihanga at Te Pa o Te Hui Amorangi o Te Waipounamu, Christchurch. So, let's head to Taonga and let some reports there do the talking for Anglicans living Down Under this week.

A very important change at our recent General Synod/Te Hinota Whanui was made to our Title D - canon on ministry standards. This article is a great introduction to the change - a change which does need explaining to our church, to laity and to clergywith appropriate supportive training/education.

Two notable women in our church have died recently, Margaret Bedggood and Huia Tahere. I have been privileged to know each of them a little - and the local tangihanga is for Huia Tahere. Dr Jenny Te Paa offers a tribute to each of them here.

Our recent Synod grappled with a motion concerning Israel/Gaza/West Bank and, in the end, did not vote to pass it. General Synod/Te Hinota Whanui in Tonga also grappled with a motion and passed it. Arguably, the latter offered better balance than the former re the nuanced challenge of condemning evil on all sides of the conflict in the Middle East, including the evil spilling over into the wider world per increased anti-semitism and lack of safety for Jews. 

My point here is not to recite either motion or to analyse details in each motion but to note here that Anglicans Down Under are concerned about what is happening in Israel/West Bank/Gaza. Anglican Taonga, for instance, notes (via this article in the Middle East Monitor) a recent inhibition by Israel of Christian teachers. Even in the last week, news reports continue to add one bleak picture after another of Israel proactively making life horrible for Palestinians. Can anything be done?

Our Synod - my Address

For those interested in my Presidential Address to our annual synod, which took place at the end of last week, you may read it here.

PS In the wisdom of diary-setters, my immediate post-Synod life has led me to Auckland for three days of meetings; and the end of this week involves further travel. Not every week is like this. But this week, assessing its particular "tempus fugit," I am making this briefest of posts, and it is posted two days late according to my intention to post on Mondays. My hope for next week is better chronological things :).

Dolly Parton: a saint in heaven?

I have been fascinated by a large series of reels on social media following the death of Dolly Parton. They show Dolly Parton as a brilliant star of entertainment, mostly through her music but also in her films, and as a quick-witted, endearingly self-deprecating, very humourous interviewee of many TV talk shows. She was also a canny businesswomen who stood her ground against men in the entertainment world who tried to make more dollars from her than they deserved, and with her wealth, Dolly was an outstanding philanthropist. To cap everything off in the tributes through the past week, not one person has a bad word to say about her. In fact, lots of warm, sincere eulogies have been made paying tribute to her goodness and greatness as a wonderful human being.

The Living Church offers this report which points to the possibility of the calendar of The Episcopal Church incorporating formal remembrance of Dolly Parton:

"Episcopalians are paying tribute to the artistry and philanthrophy of Dolly Parton, the singer, actress, and songwriter whose rise from poverty to becoming a country music legend and successful entrepreneur draw admiration from a broad swathe of American society.

On Threads, the Rev. Rachel Kessler, rector of Harcourt Parish in Kenyon College, is advocating for Parton’s commemoration in the Episcopal Church calendar on the day of her death, August 25, at the age of 80."

By contrast, I have seen on X comments made by sincere and genuine Christians that Dolly Parton is most certainly not in heaven because she was not a true and wholehearted follower of Jesus Christ as her Lord and Saviour, the implication being that she has in recent years erred and strayed from the faith of her upbringing, perhaps due to her warm and inclusive embrace of the LGBTi community, to say nothing of a more or less universalist approach to the salvation of all.

We could get stuck in the weeds of the theological suppositions and presuppositions involved in either positing Dolly Parton should be fast-tracked into ecclesiastical calendars or that we (somehow, when we are not God) have a sure and solid ability to determine that Dolly Parton is in the place opposite to where many, many people around the world assume she is.

My thinking (for what it is worth) is twofold.

First, we should celebrate the goodness and greatness of this remarkable human being. She was amazingly talented. She was very, very kind - as many children who have benefitted from her generous book programme delivering books around the world are testifying to, to say nothing of many other beneficiaries of her kindness and generosity. In so celebrating, we could usefully look at ourselves and ask whether we are doing all in our power to do as much good in the world as we can - that is what Dolly Parton did, and she did it with a large dose of personal humbleness. Thanks be to God for her example.

Secondly, we should consider carefully the character she exhibited in her generosity, her inclusiveness, her kindness and her unwillingness to engage in tit for tat meanness. (Romans 12:9-21, the epistle reading for Sunday 30 August 2026, Ordinary 22, is most apt as a lens through which to assess the quality of her character.) If Dolly was a true Christian, then something very, very Christlike shone through her bubbly personality. If Dolly was not a true Christian, then something very, very Christlike shone through her bubbly personality. I am happy to leave it to the God of heaven how he views each and every human being, from the most famous to the least well-known. But I think it might be avoidance if I stop there and do not ask of myself, am I the best self I can be in the light of my belief that the way of Christ is the way to God and to human flourishing? Am I allowing Christ to work on every aspect of myself to transform my heart so that I too have a generous, gracious, kind, warm and relentlessly loving approach to all people I meet?

Might such questions be better questions to ask in relation to the life of Dolly Parton than asking whether she is or is not with the Lord Jesus Christ?

Tonga [updated]

In so many ways it was brilliant being in Tonga for General Synod/Te Hinota Whanui 2026 (GSTHW 2026). The weather was warmer than in Aotearoa New Zealand; the hospitality from local Anglican parishes and St Andrew's High School (our only Anglican school on Tongatapu) was magnificent; the food was plentiful and delicious (though for some this was tempered by some tummy bugs doing the rounds); and our main venue, a world class gymnasium at Tonga High School (built by - you guessed it - China Aid), was very pleasant to meet in.

Anglican Taonga has reports worth reading and looking at the great pics taken by our media team:

On the outstanding formal welcome to the members of the General Synod/Te Hinota Whanui, read this.

On the overall themes of the synod, One Mission, One Vaka, One Ocean, read this.

On the splendid opening eucharist, read this.

On the question of equity re funding in our church, read this and this, and for some Pakeha work on the matter just before the Synod began, read this.

A fair amount of time was spent considering the plight of the islands of our church, especially those within the Diocese of Polynesia, as climate changes ravage us and change the ocean around us. I hope there will be a report in Taonga soon on these important conversations and information sharing.

We also made some important changes to Title D our canon on ministry standards.

Am I hopeful for our church?

On the whole, Yes, but it was good to be reminded by one member of the synod that various statistics tell us we are a church in numerical decline, and we should be the opposite of complacent about this reality.

UPDATES

A. Lovely reflection via video of the GSTHW here.

B. Since posting the above, news has entered the public domain of a boating incident on the last full day GSTHW members had together on Tonga, some of whom went on a whale-watching trip. Taonga has now posted a news report about this, here.

General Synods Down Under, and ARCIC progress

Although this is being posted on Wednesday 12 August, think of it as next Monday's post, 17 August 2026. 

I will be in Tonga then, participating in the biennial General Synod/Te Hinota Whanui of the Anglican Church in Aotearoa, New Zealand and Polynesia. 

From time to time the Diocese of Polynesia hosts the General Synod in Polynesia so it is a privilege to be able to travel to Tonga to enjoy their hosting. (Polynesia has hosted previously in Fiji (1990, 2012), and South Auckland (2000).)

All details about our meeting, including links to bills and motions can be found by heading to this site.

Pray for us, please!

Interestingly, the General Synod of the Anglican Church in Australia is meeting this week in Melbourne. I have enjoyed following Professor Peter Sherlock's reflections - his reflections on the first day is here.

If none of this synodical stuff interests you, or you love it but have further reading time available, then a few weeks ago I was very much taken by this account of the state of Anglican-Roman Catholic conversations (= ARCIC).

Enjoy!

If ever someone was anointed by the Spirit

In the midst of all the stuff happening around us these days, as appalling wars continue, peace talks grinding into moribundian dust, and economic gloom clouds over our everyday material hopes for a better world, it is possible to find moments when heaven meets earth. Yesterday I had one of those walking into the cathedral late yesterday afternoon, to find the combine choirs of The Cathedral Grammar School rehearsing Johann Sebastian Bach's moment of Jesus which is Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring.

Within the livestream of the service itself you can hear/see this at  28.40 at this link: Jesu joy of man's desiring.

The lyrics are:

Jesu, Joy Of Man's Desiring
Holy wisdom, love most bright

Drawn by Thee, our souls aspiring
Soar to uncreated light

Word of God, our flesh that fashioned
With the fire of life impassioned
Striving still to truth unknown
Soaring, dying round Thy throne.

We sometimes talk about someone being "anointed by the Spirit" - the Holy Spirit is at work in a believer in a very, very special way, with wonderful outcomes. Is not this psalm to Jesus a mark of J.S. Bach being anointed by the Spirit?

170 years for the Diocese of Christchurch and the City of Christchurch

On Friday evening, 31 July 2026, an event was held at Christ's College, here in Christchurch, to celebrate 170 years of the City of Christchurch being formally declared a city by Queen Victoria, 31 July 1856, this being simultaneous with the See of Christchurch being established with Henry John Chitty Harper being made the first Bishop of Christchurch (ordination happening in England), all written up in "letters patent."

The key statement in the letters patent was (and remains):

“…  And we do further by these our Letters Patent ordain and constitute the Town of Christchurch in the said Diocese of Christchurch to be a Bishops See and the seat of the said Bishop and do ordain that the said Town of Christchurch shall be a City And we do further thereby ordain and declare that the Church of Christ Church in the said Town or City shall be the Cathedral Church and the See of the said Bishop of Christchurch and his successors…”.

Now we can (rightly) note that Nelson was [British/European] settled in 1842, Dunedin in 1848 (and Christchurch in 1850), but this specific rendition of the town of Christchurch as the City of Christchurch makes it the first ever city of New Zealand.

Definitely something to celebrate. There were drinks and fruit cake in the College Dining Hall. There were talks in the College Chapel reciting aspects of the history of +Harper, the Diocese and the City from 1856 onwards into the early years of establishing Diocese and City. Some of +Harper's adventures in travelling made me realise what a lucky and somewhat "pale" life I lead as one of his successors. I have never fallen off my horse, for instance. Nor have I had to sleep in rough circumstances in a primitive cottage. Let alone travel into the face of a bitter southerly, unless in the comfort of my car.

My modest contribution to the evening (and intentionally modest in terms of its planned brevity) was to reflect on the continuing relationship between the Diocese and the City. Here is the text:

"I try to discipline myself not to read social media comments in relation to Christ Church cathedral but sometimes I get a glimpse and realise with some parts of our city, the Diocese's relationship is rocky if not on the ropes.

The relationship, as set out tonight, has history and an express joint beginning in 1856 with the letters patent and the arrival of +Harper.

But a lot has happened since 1856. Anglicans were not the only kind of Christians in Chch at that time, but we were the dominant species.

We cannot say that today. The dominant denomination is the Catholic Church. The most numerous form of Christianity is Pentecostalism.

Nevertheless, we are still in the city.

We are here with 27 parishes (approx half of all our parishes) and 46 churches (a quarter of which are in Banks Peninsula*). That is more numerical presence than any other denomination.

We offer service and care to the last, least and lost, as well as to the well off, the comfortable middle class, and the recently arrived.

We have much to be humble about in our no longer dominant church but we are proud of the brilliant work our City Mission undertakes, and we are pleased to offer education through our five outstanding Anglican schools.**

We are grateful to the Christchurch City Council for it support for Christ Church Cathedral through many years, before the 2011 quakes and since.

At the heart of the centre of the city sits this singular symbol of the Church of England settlement's intentions, that this city would be a place of godliness and learning.

While views may vary about the re-opening of the cathedral, and how it should be funded, it is a simple fact of our past as a city that we are a cathedral city.

My hope, nevertheless, is that the future of the relationship between the Diocese and the city is not marked by controversy and debate over this extraordinary symbol, but instead by our continuing service to the people of the city through all our churches, our schools and the City Mission.

The ability to continue that relationship of service is not a matter of funds but of faith in Jesus Christ.

Our English forbears believed in Jesus Christ, as Lord and Saviour of human­kind, as the Source, Centre and End of history.

"Christchurch" and "Christ's College" are not merely good old English names but signs of the One who matters above all things.

May our city continue to bear Christ's name and our Diocese continue to serve this city." 

*For those unfamiliar with the boundaries of Christchurch city, it now includes Banks Peninsula, a largely rural area to the south-east of Christchurch's main, contiguous urban areas.

**This is a reference to five Anglican schools for which the Diocese has a structural relationship, including me being the Warden of these schools. There is a sixth school which is also "diocesan" in Timaru. There are two further schools in Christchurch which have no structural relationship with the Diocese but do have enduring relationships with their respective local parishes. 

Church: alive, dying or dead?

Is the Anglican Church in Aotearoa, New Zealand and Polynesia alive, dying or dead?

I ask the question as a kick off point to some reflections below, but I am aware in posing the question as such a kick off point that there are friends and colleagues within our church, to say nothing of observers from outside our church who not only pose the question but ask it, sometimes in tones which express concern/empathy/sympathy, sometimes in tones which make me wonder if they are being just a tad triumphalistic about other ways of being church here which are most definitely "alive"!

Recently I have been part of events which have involved gathering people from several corners of our church, and, of course, I continue as bishop to be part of contemporary church life in different ministry units in Canterbury, Westland and the Chatham Islands from Sunday to Sunday. I find myself offering an answer to the question above which is nuanced. It goes like this.

There is no doubt some parts of the church are dead (or, "dead"), meaning that we have lost members (through death, transfer to other denominations, dropping out of regular participation in corporate worship, etc), we have closed churches, we have fewer parishes than we used to, and, in some parishes, we are very concerned about missing generations.

There are also searching questions about whether our church is dying (or, "dying"), meaning that we look around us (at, say, ageing members, fewer attending, smaller offerings) and we look at our statistics for the past whenever years and chart graphs which suggest by 2037 or 2056 or 2071 this diocese, or that diocese or the whole of theAnglican church in these islands - Polynesia likely will be another prognosis - will be gone, finished, deader than Monty Python's parrot. (There are some graphs which do predict years of final demise but those years above are made up by me). We are alive as a church in 2026, but we may not be so some years hence. Thus, we are dying (unless there is revival and resuscitation).

We may not, of course, be doomed to follow the exact path of statistical decline. Apart from what I am about to say about our church being alive (or, "alive") in the next paragraphs, we are a nation of many migrants. While most Christian migrants are Catholic, some are Anglican or are keen to associate with the Anglican church. If we are looking ahead to, say, 2050 (the two hundreth anniversary of the arrival of the First Four Ships of the CofE Settlement of Canterbury), then we cannot predict where migratory patterns might take our Diocese and other episcopal units in our church. (We might also, cheekily, observe - speaking very locally - that some internal migration is taking place these days as cool city Christchurch with a stadium, plentiful housing, jobs, etc is drawing people here, and that is bring new people into our churches). The dying parts of our church may yet reverse, shifting from surviving to thriving. 

Is our church alive? There are definitely thriving congregations, especially in our larger cities. New people are becoming Christians in Anglican contexts. Christians are being drawn to the Anglican way of being Christian and being church. God is - simply being consistent - still in the spiritual business of transforming lives, growing Christians in grace and gifts, and drawing believers deeper into the spiritual nourishment which comes through the ministry of word and sacrament. For some new(ish) Anglicans, it is our comfortableness in being bicultural which is a "drawcard" factor in becoming Anglican. These aspects of church being alive are simply about numbers of people turning up on a Sunday or getting involved in small groups and outreach activities, they are about people journeying ever more deeply into the resurrection life of Christ.

The past couple of weeks have been especially precious through various events which have reminded me of the mixed up life of our church: signs of death, of dying and - thanks be to God - of life.

Palestine and Anglican action?

Yesterday and today our Diocese is part of churches in Christchurch hosting two visiting Palestinian theologians, as part of a speaking tour organised by Aotearoa Christians for Peace in Palestine.

While the names of the theologians are public (e.g. on the site I have just linked to in the preceding paragraph), I am not going to use them here, out of respect for their bravely taking the risk of speaking up for peace in Palestine and thus not wishing anything here to be google-connectible to them. There will enough searchable things from this speaking tour elsewhere.

My reflections on what I have heard (through two sessions yesterday) are, of course, my words and not theirs, but I thank them for illumination and insight which, of course, can only come from those indigenous to the pain and suffering Palestinians are and have been experiencing, not only recently, but since the settlement of the modern state of Israel in 1948.

I am conscious as I offer some reflections that in the last week or so, the Church of England's July session of its General Synod, meeting in York, has somewhat controversially discussed Palestinian matters, as you could see via these links: Ian Paul on Psephizo (opposed to what happened); The Guardian; and reports, one and two, linked to by Thinking Anglicans. My reflections are not a discussion of the Cofe discussion and debate, though I note one vital aspect of those synodical interactions, common to our experiences here through these two days: we must listen to Palestinian Christians. In the cacophany of sound coming from the Middle East: social media, propaganda, news, fake news, information and misinformation, it is highly appropriate that Christians far away listen to the voices of their Palestinian brothers and sisters in Christ.

First, let's keep in mind two Scripture texts cited in one of the talks I heard:

"Speak up for people who cannot speak up for themselves. Protect the rights of all who are helpless. Speak for them and be a righteous judge. Protect the rights of the poor and needy." (Proverbs 31:8-9 GNB)

"See that justice is done - help those who are oppressed, give orphans their rights, and defend widows." (Isaiah 1:17 GNB).

Then, our question could be (and, of course, not only for the situation in Palestine-Israel),

"Do we see people, every one of whom is a human being, and do we value them equally as an image-bearer of God, Israeli and Palestinian, Arab and Jew, those who have citizenship of the State of Israel and those who do not?"

If one thing has impressed itself on me through the past two days, it is the many and varied ways in which Israel de-humanizes Palestinians. This de-humanization is not only through death and destruction - war in Gaza, violent colonization of the West Bank - but also through walls, checkpoints, barbed wire, surveillance, and the like. De-humanization of Palestinians is through displacement as well as through shooting to kill.

This de-humanization is not confined to the actions of Israel. It is also implicit if not explicit in some Christian theologies which support the Zionism which drives Israel's de-humanization: any theology which sees (the modern state of) Israel as the fulfilment of God's promises to ancient Israel consequentially sees Palestinians as a problem to be solved, a people to be displaced because they stand in the way of that fulfilment. But that cannot be right when we (say) focus on Palestinian Christians: they are our brothers and sisters in Christ. In Christ alone are God's promises fulfilled and we Christians outside of Israel-Palestine should not cheer Zionism on with our theologies of fulfilment but challenge and critique Zionism with a correct theology of fulfilment, that asks of Israel how all may find flourishing lives in the region, not least our Palestinian brothers and sisters in Christ.

I have been reminded that when Jesus spoke in the synagogue in Nazareth (Luke 4:16-30), the people hearing him preach were not angry with him when he cited Isaiah 61:1-2 and announced that the passage had come true that very day (v. 21). It was when he went on to talk about Elijah and the healing of Naaman the Syrian that they were "filled with anger" (v. 28). In other words, when Jesus told his Jewish hearers that other nationalities mattered to God, that was too much for them. The kingdom of God is the upside-down kingdom which includes all peoples, not just some and excludes the rest.

It has been good to listen to Palestinian Christian voices.

I have other thoughts ... but that will do for today. Next week I might come back to consider the "one state" v "two state" solution to the challenge of how Palestinians and Israelis might live in harmony.

Might the CofE become more like the Anglican Communion?

During the past few days I have come across two well-written reflections on ACC-19, recently held in Belfast, Northern Ireland (i.e. within the provincial territory of the Church of Ireland). These are by no means the only reflections you could read if you google further, but they are two that I appreciate, one because it is a bit uncomfortable for me to read, the other because it is both comforting to read and explains something I hadn't quite understood about where the NCPs were seeking to take the Anglican Communion. That is, too far in the direction of "impaired communion" which, Kelvin Holdsworth, author of one of the two reflections, points out is something the CofE has gotten used to, but just maybe the rest of us (excepting Oz?) have not and do not want to get used to either. (The title of this post reflects a neat line within the Holdsworth reflection).

So,

Anthony Atherstone writes at The Living Church, "Hope for the Communion? Reflections on the Anglican Consultative Council's 2026 Meeting"

Among some criticisms of what went along, which could be summed up (in my words) as "for all the talk of "full communion" there was plenty of acknowledgment that communion in the Communion is "impaired"," we could offer the following as illustrative from what Atherstone writes:

"Another significant resolution thanks IASCUFO for their work on the NCPs and reaffirms

“the vocation of all member Churches of the Anglican Communion to seek to walk together to the highest degree of communion possible one with another, and to learn from our ecumenical conversations how to accommodate differentiation patiently and respectfully.”

By implication, if communion between Anglican provinces is a matter of “degrees”, it is not always “full”. This resolution was brought early in the week, on the first full day of business, but was poorly explained and many delegates felt bounced into giving their assent. This further example of bad process was rightly challenged by Kelvin Holdsworth of the Scottish Episcopal Church, so the resolution was put again at the end of the week, enabling a counted vote on this important affirmation, with 67 votes in favour (including the Archbishop of Canterbury), 7 against, and 3 abstentions. The concept of “degrees of communion” is now increasingly embedded in our descriptions of the Anglican Communion. By naming this reality, we admit our brokenness, an important first step towards healing our wounds."

And,

Klevin Holdsworth writes on his personal blog, "ACC-19 - The Anglican Consultative Council in Belfast".

Perhaps, following up Atherstone's point about "impaired communion" above, it is worth quoting what Holdsworth says on the same theme:

"A further reflection from me is that the idea of being in degrees of communion (or being in impaired communion) is one that needs a good deal more thinking about. I realised during my week in Belfast that it is a phrase that means very different things to different people. We don’t have the idea of being in impaired communion within the polity of the Scottish Episcopal Church. I learned last week that there are plenty of other churches that don’t have this idea within them either. However it is the very stuff that the Church of England is built from. One way of seeing the Nairobi-Cairo Proposals is to see them as somehow taking the deeply flawed (some would say heretical) theology that one can be in impaired communion within your own church and make it normative in the Anglican Communion. The Church of England may think it is acceptable to have dioceses in which bishops are not in full communion with their clergy or indeed with one another – it is quite another thing to get people who don’t have this idea to think that it is in any way a force for good. I’m glad that ACC-19 had no enthusiasm for this way of thinking. So far as I can see the words “being in impaired communion” within a church are little more than a euphemism for denying the legitimacy of ordained women. Many from around the Communion had not grasped that this is the reality of the Church of England.

As I reflect on these conversations, it is my hope that the Church of England will become more like the other churches of the Anglican Communion. That is a far better thing to hope for than that the Anglican Communion should become like the Church of England."

We should note - kind of a marker for a possible future - that I have seen comment since ACC-19 that the Global South movement is setting out a pathway for departure from the Communion (or rearrangement of the Communion?) which is considered and subtle (in contrast to the more abrupt manner of Gafcon).

Cue, perhaps, heading to the whole of Holdsworth's reflections which cover the wonderfulness of the Communion in all its diversity, breadth, growth meeting together with deep common identity and prayfulness.

This world is strange, beautiful and broken

Your indulgence for a rambling kind of post is appreciated. I have no striking thesis to develop this week. I am typing this in the airport at Chatham Island (where our most remote parish is), waiting for our plane to land, it having been delayed because of storms in New Zealand disrupting its flights yesterday. We have been here for five days and had the best weather ever of four trips here over the past eight years.

The Chathams, as always, inspire with the beauty of isolated land sitting in the midst of surrounding seas.

During those five days there has been a good result for the All Blacks under their new coach, some amazing results in the World Cup, a good outcome (in my view) of ACC deliberations re the Nairobi-Cairo Proposals, all kinds of machinations in the Catholic world over the SSPX episcopal ordinations, a Chinese ballistic missile launched into the Pacific Ocean, and, incredibly, President Trump intervening to change the outcome of a red card against an American player and the FIFA President meekly obliging. What a broken world!

I am pleased that the ACC is (at the least) pausing to reflect further on the nature of a Communion which should involve communion with Canterbury rather than not. (See, e.g., this Living Church report).

On a completely different note, I had seen good reports of "Prime Minister", a documentary about Jacinda Ardern's time as our Prime Minister (2017-2023), and last night had a chance to watch it courtesy of Netflix (upon which site it remains for about another 30 hours). I found it very moving (and very well produced, though no surprises there because Jacinda's husband, Clarke Gayford, is a top TV cinematographer). Sure, I know we can have a discussion about the financial legacy of the latter years of her premiership (none of which is mentioned in the film), but the moving part of the film was the humanity of our then PM as she met some huge challenges, with little or no rest between them - raw emotion is involved. Only view if you are comfortable being moved to tears.

Hopefully back to a longer and better focused post next week ... our plane has landed here in the Chathams, ... and life resumes in (very cold, damp) Christchurch.

The Holy Spirit and the church

 I noticed this sharp, waspy Tweet a day or so ago, by a veteran Vatican commentator, Austen Ivereigh:

It is striking how those who believe they are saving the Church from itself — Jesus’s promise of the HS being, they presume, at best unreliable — never think of themselves as schismatics. https://t.co/a9UpNG3ilV

— Austen Ivereigh (@austeni) June 27, 2026

It is (in my experience) easy to forget the Holy Spirit. Trusting in our own efforts (for any purpose in life, not just ecclesiastical purposes) is much more immediate and likely (to ourselves at least) a reliable way to achieve something. Now Ivereigh is commenting on the brinkmanship (as I write) of SSPX threatening to ordain bishops with or without the Pope's authorization, and "without" means, so pundits say, according to canon law, that there will be excommunications. I have no comment to make on this particular matter, not least because I am no kind of expert in Roman canon law.

But it is a thought, is it not, that we might wonder more about what the Spirit is doing in the life of the church, than what we ourselves might do about the life of the church. The wondering, Ivereigh makes the point, includes whether we might wonder about what kind of faith we have in the promises of Jesus.

Now, this, surely, is a thing to consider whatever our station in life or the church, and whatever church we belong to, whether one on the verge of schism or just on the verge of deciding what kind of instant coffee to buy for next Sunday's morning tea. (Yes, no need to comment on the word "instant" being paired with "coffee", I know there are strong feelings about these things.) 

Dare we believe that the church is Christ's and he has the church in hand, working the purposes of God out in ways we cannot imagine, to a timetable our impatience disables our discernment thereof, and with greater power - the Holy Spirit - than is in the possession of any synod or bishop or session clerk or patriarch/matriarch?

As the ACC meets in Belfast through these days, I must say to myself, you might also choose to say to yourself, 

"Holy Spirit, come, fill their hearts (and our hearts) anew, refresh your Communion, open our ears to hear what you are saying to your church."