OldSoul.blog

Way back in the 1980s I had a student ministry at the Brighton (Vic) Church of Christ.  I was part of a team that included an elderly retired minister, Harold Bischoff, and another student, Debbie Wright.  One day, in a team meeting, I learned a lesson I have never forgotten.  Harold had suggested something (I can’t recall what) and I had replied, “Yes, but … .”  “YES, BUT!” exclaimed Harold, “There’s always a ‘BUT’ with you isn’t there David!”  My ‘but’ was clearly unhelpful and obstructionist.  Lesson learned!

That moment came to mind again this week when I read an article by author and social commentator Diana Butler Bass, discussing the dynamics of the US Presidential campaign.  Writing about the importance of ‘and’, she contrasted the new Democratic candidate Kamala Harris, who (in the words of the US Religion News Service) is by birth ‘both Black andSouth Asian, both Christian and Hindu’, with the Republican candidate, Donald Trump, who based his previous campaign on building a wall.  Butler Bass reflected on the contrast between the ‘bridge-building’ force of the word ‘and’ and the divisive image of building walls.  Says Bass, ‘This election is about choosing between bridges and walls. Do we want to span that which seems impossible to connect, or strengthen the fortifications that separate?’

While I am fascinated (and dismayed and perplexed) by the dynamics of the US Presidential campaign, that’s not my focus here, because I think this contrast also has application much closer to home.  

The Olympic Games are kicking off in Paris as I write.  Championing the spirit of global cooperation, athletes will compete over the coming days with goodwill and harmony, even as so many of the countries they represent are wracked in conflict.  Athletes from places like Ukraine, Russia, Israel, Palestine, Sudan, Myanmar, Niger, Somalia, Ethiopia, and more will have left conflicted countries to become bridgebuilders in the context of a war-torn world.  All power to them!  May their ‘and’ stand as a powerful counter to the ‘but’ of political and military tension.  And may the rest of us choose again and again to be ‘and-sayers’ rather than ‘but-sayers’ in the quest for a more peaceful world.

Another application: my observation is that the Australian political scene is becoming increasingly polarised, with the major parties much more likely to use the word ‘but’ than the word ‘and’ in the context of parliamentary debate.  In fact, it appears that the automatic response of each party is to oppose any idea or policy from the other party as a matter of course.  ‘But’ before ‘and’ every time.  Very occasionally there is a bipartisan approach to a problem and, lo and behold, something gets done.  If only we could give our politicians permission and encouragement to be ‘and-sayers’ – not to have to agree on everything but to accept that diversity of opinion is a value and strength of the democratic process and that, far from being a sign of weakness or capitulation, compromise is a pathway to effective, cohesive action.

A third application: I have experienced the ‘and’ profoundly in the context of the interfaith movement.  As Chair of the City of Kingston Interfaith Network, I was privileged to sit at the table with representatives of diverse faith groups for many years and to discover there the importance and power of ‘and’.  There were many different ideologies, understandings, practices and backgrounds amongst network members – as there were many similarities and shared values – and each member was free to articulate, affirm and espouse their personal beliefs and practices while similarly affirming and respecting the beliefs and practices of those around them.  This did not lead, as some critics of the interfaith movement have suggested, to a hotch-potch of confusion of truth and faith – it led to a place of acceptance, harmony and assurance as each faith group was given space, legitimacy and freedom.  ‘And’ rather than ‘but’.  Inclusion rather than division.  

One more application: most of my working life has been within the context of the Churches of Christ in Victoria and Tasmania.  Over recent years there has been a slow but accelerating shift in our movement (if that’s still what we are) towards the conservative end of the theological spectrum.  Of course, there has always been a mix of progressive and conservative congregations within our movement, a diversity that has been embraced as a strength as we have lived out of the ‘and’ vocabulary, building bridges between people of diverse opinions on the basis that each congregation is free to hold to its own values and perspectives. Recently the language and culture has shifted, boundaries have been defined, and lines are being drawn to designate who is ‘in’ and who is ‘out’.  It looks and feels to me much more like wall-building than bridge-building.  Specific examples of this shift have been the debate over marriage equality, the regulation of ministry accreditation, the erosion of congregational autonomy, the development of a set of ‘ministry attributes’ that are focussed more on ‘right’ practice than on formation and character, and the trend toward a centralist governance model at the expense of flexibility and diversity.  To devalue the life-giving and inclusive ‘and’ that has been at the core of our movement risks, I believe, replacing the ‘unity in diversity’ upon which it was founded, with a superficial ‘unity in homogeneity’ that is the product of the shedding of those who are ‘other-minded’ to leave only those who are ‘like-minded’.

Whether in civil society or in church circles, this trend away from ‘and’ toward ‘but’, away from building bridges to building walls, is concerning.  It’s also inconsistent with the core values of the Christian faith. Stephen Patterson argues in his book, The Forgotten Creed, that the very earliest church creed was possibly a baptismal liturgy recorded in Paul’s letter to the Galatians: ‘in Christ you are Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female: you are all one in the Spirit.’ [Gal 3:28]

Isn’t it wonderful that, in this increasingly divisive and polarised world, people of goodwill, including people of faith, are modelling a different way, the way of ‘and’, the way of acceptance and inclusion, affirming that (in the words of Butler Bass), We are all children of God. You and your neighbour and immigrants and believers of other faiths and Democrats and Republicans… and … and … and … We are all children of God.  

Perhaps this small, seemingly insignificant word ‘and’ may empower the creation of a world of human dignity, equality and justice for all.  A world where walls are torn down, and bridges built in their stead.

That’s what I’ve been thinking about!

David Brooker.

25^th July 2024