Almost the only prophecy to come true about the eleventh Lambeth Conference of Anglican bishops at Canterbury last month concerned England’s notorious weather. The preliminary instructions sent to the some 450 bishops and archbishops in about 100 countries described English summer weather as being somewhat unpredictable. “It can be wet and cold, so a raincoat and warm clothing should be brought.” Wet and cold it proved to be, and throughout the conference—held on the strikingly modern but rather bleak campus of the University of Kent—delegates hurried to sessions dressed in anything that would keep out the driving rain.
There were other prophecies: that this would be the last Lambeth Conference (it has been held more or less every ten years since 1867, when seventy-six bishops attended the first one at Lambeth Palace in London, the Archbishop of Canterbury’s official residence); that the 65-million-member Anglican Communion would break apart on the divisive issue of women priests or simply collapse because it lacked a sufficient common identity; that the bishops from the Third World (nearly one-third of those present) would take the conference by the scruff of the neck and use it to attack the inadequacies of the capitalist West.
The last conference in 1968 was an untidy affair. As with all previous Lambeth conferences, it was held in London, was a nonresidential talking shop, and came shortly after the dismantling of the British Empire, home of the great majority of Anglicans. White bishops who had recently lost their colonial status and black bishops from newly independent states were equally uncertain of their moves on the Anglican chessboard. Ten years had not improved the situation. Could Lambeth 1978 give Anglicanism the new identity it was seeking?
With the support of the Anglican Consultative Council set up ten years ago to oversee world Anglicanism, Archbishop of Canterbury Donald Coggan decided to take the conference out of London, separate the bishops from their wives (“sexual apartheid,” as one African bishop described it), and call the delegates to “prayer and waiting upon God.” During the three weeks that the bishops ate, drank, talked, prayed, and listened together, barriers to understanding crumbled, tolerance of diverse viewpoints grew, and in a sense a new Anglican Communion, adjusted to modern-day realities, emerged from the ashes of the old paternalistic model.
After ten days of intensive discussions that were set in a contemplative atmosphere behind closed doors, the bishops came out into the open, passing fifty resolutions on subjects ranging from authority to armaments, doctrine to deaconesses, poverty to primates.
For many reasons the debate on women priests was crucial. Prior to the conference, warnings of dire consequences if the bishops approved the continued ordination of women to the priesthood were uttered by leaders of the Roman Catholic and Orthodox churches, as well as by Bishop James Mote of the Anglican Church of North America, which broke away from the U.S. Episcopal Church on that issue.
But with calm resolution the delegates held to a steady course. They declined a proposal for a five-year moratorium, and they defeated a move by a leading evangelical, Maurice Wood, Bishop of Norwich, to veto the possibility of women bishops. The sole concession to opponents of women’s ordination was the recommendation that women should be consecrated bishops only where there is overwhelming support within the province concerned and after due consultation with all the Anglican primates. By these decisions, in the words of Bishop Alistair Haggart, a Scottish Episcopalian, “The Anglican Church showed it is capable of making up its own mind and is not a yo-yo at the twitch of Rome or orthodoxy.” Orthodox observers at the conference were horrified, but Roman Catholics were somewhat mollified by the generous and unprecedented action of the conference authorities in inviting the Catholic observers present to celebrate a requiem mass for Pope Paul, whose death was announced while the bishops were in session. Most of them attended.
The Third World, though not allowed to dominate the proceedings, left satisfied that its voice had been heard. Sample actions of the bishops in this sphere:
• a strongly worded call to world governments to end the abuse of human rights. Although it started originally as an African resolution about Africa, the statement was internationalized to apply to other parts of the world.
• a message of support to the 20,000 inhabitants of Crossroads, the shanty town near Cape Town, South Africa, that is threatened with demolition.
• an appeal to “governments, world leaders, and people without distinction,” calling for fair trading, conservation of natural resources, help for developing nations, a new approach to technology, urbanization, armaments, the redistribution of wealth, and an end to national self-interest, materialism, and oppression of the poor. (The bishops declined to back their words with actions when they turned down a suggestion by Welsh bishop John Poole Hughes that the conference should have a one-day fast and donate the money saved on meals to an aid organization.)
• overwhelming support for the World Council of Churches despite strong protests from several bishops at the announcement from Geneva the day before of a grant of $85,000 to the Patriotic Front in Rhodesia from the Special Fund of the WCC’s Programme to Combat Racism (see story, page 60).
Perhaps the biggest bonus was the emergence of Bishop Desmond Tutu as the conference’s “favorite son.” He is the first black general secretary of the South African Council of Churches. Whenever he came to the microphone to speak, the conferees leaned forward to listen. His influence—and that of the exiled bishop of Damaraland, Colin Winter—could be seen behind the major declarations of the conference in support of the deprived peoples of the world. He was one of three bishops to receive an honorary doctorate of civil law from the University of Kent during the conference. At 46, he is clearly destined to play a major role in world Anglicanism in years to come.
There were press reports of general disenchantment with the Anglican Consultative Council, a coordinating group made up of clergy and lay representatives of the various Anglican churches. Chaired by the Archbishop of Canterbury, it seeks to represent and advise Anglicans in matters affecting them. Its secretary-general, Bishop John Howe, delivered an unscheduled address defending it against those who accused it of exceeding its authority and of having manipulated the conference. The bishops were unimpressed, however, and they voted against the council being involved in discussions about future Lambeth conferences.
The council will now have a “competitor” in the form of an Anglican “curia” comprising the primates of the twenty-five provinces, who will meet every two years to review the state of Anglicanism worldwide and express judgment on issues of note. But as with the Lambeth conference, its decisions will not be binding on the whole communion.
On sexuality, the bishops spoke of “heterosexuality as the scriptural norm.” Also, “Christian ideals of faithfulness within and chastity outside marriage” were affirmed following a debate that revealed differences on homosexuality between Western and Third World bishops. Bishop Paul Moore of New York pleaded for greater compassion and understanding for homosexuals. But Bishop Sospeter Magua of Kenya said he was shocked that the subject should even be discussed.
In addition to their main resolution on war and violence, the bishops qualified their support for the World Council of Churches by asking the Church “to reexamine its complicity with violence and to look again at Christ’s own teaching against violence.”
Surprisingly, evangelization, which in a preconference ballot on bishops’ preferences for subjects to be debated came out on top of the fifty-five listed, was virtually omitted from the fifty resolutions approved by the whole conference.
Despite the almost monastic nature of the conference, the bishops were not beyond the reach of the demonstrator, the lobbyist, or even the ordinary member of the public. On the issue of women priests they were made aware very early of the presence in the press gallery of several ordained women from the Episcopal Church in the United States, and on a one-day trip to London the bishops had to run the gauntlet of demonstrations by banner-waving feminist groups when they attended Evensong at Westminster Abbey. A pacifist pilgrimage from London to Canterbury also led to much lobbying of the bishops. A “graffiti roll” displayed at Canterbury Cathedral attracted comments and questions to the bishops from fifty visitors to the ancient shrine.
On the rare occasions when the bishops did leave the university campus, all the panoply and pageantry of Anglican ritual and splendor were displayed. In contrast with the bishops’ working clothes of sweaters and slacks, the formal eucharists in Canterbury Cathedral that began and ended the conference were a clerical outfitter’s dream. (Wippells, the brand leader in this field, had a shop on the campus offering a 10 per cent discount on all vestments purchased during the conference.)
Archbishop Coggan was praised on all sides, not only for the type of conference he planned, but also for the way he handled it. Sadly, this belated recognition of his leadership comes as the spry 69-year-old is contemplating retirement. If the collegial emphasis within Anglicanism continues to grow, the worldwide church will want to have a say in the appointment of his successor.
To Donald Coggan, always proud to call himself an evangelical, must go the major credit for making the 1978 Lambeth Conference a calm and peaceful retreat from a stormy world. Those from the hectic, fast-moving Western world were forced to slow their pace to something approaching that of a black bishop, who addressed the primate with eloquent simplicity: “I come from Africa, your grace, and I take my time.” With unintentional irony, Metropolitan Anthony Bloom of the Russian Orthodox Church, who conducted a quiet day for the bishops and gave a week of morning devotional talks, told his all-male audience: “I have given you a certain amount of grass. Now, like good milking cows, you must produce milk for your flock.”
The Anglican dairy is back in business.
The Charismatics At Canterbury
Canterbury Cathedral had never seen anything like it. Anglican archbishop Bill Burnett of Capetown, South Africa, finished celebration of the eucharist by leading thirty other bishops—all in full vestments—in a dance around the high altar.
The unusual scene occurred during a week-long meeting that brought some 360 leaders of the Anglican-Episcopal charismatic movement to Canterbury prior to the Lambeth Conference (see preceding story). The leaders were joined by people from all over the world for a weekend International Anglican Conference on Spiritual Renewal, a first among Anglicans and Episcopalians. The 1,300 participants plus onlookers packed the cathedral that Saturday night for a Festival of Praise featuring exiled Anglican bishop Festo Kivengere of Uganda, a noncharismatic, as the preacher.
What surfaced with the resignation of an Episcopal priest from his parish in the early 1960s has grown to international proportions in the Anglican Communion. After Dennis Bennett left his parish in Van Nuys, California, because of his “baptism in the Spirit” (he went to a Seattle parish), the movement spread widely among other Episcopalians, including priests. (More than 25 per cent of the U.S. Episcopal clergy has been involved, say some movement spokesmen.) It spread across the ocean to England and eventually to Anglican churches around the world. In all, about fifty bishops and archbishops are part of the movement, say sources, and the thirty-one who were at the conference came from places as diverse as Singapore, Africa, Chile, South India, and the United States.
The conference theme centered on looking to Jesus as the head of the church and obeying him more. Participants in the leadership conference spent most of their time in small groups, seeking the guidance of the Holy Spirit. They concluded that a commitment to Jesus Christ as Lord is central and that in order for the Anglican Church to be renewed each member must be filled with the Holy Spirit.
Archbishop of Canterbury Donald Coggan put in an appearance at the Festival of Praise and thanked the conferees for their prayers for the bishops and the upcoming three-week Lambeth Conference. He expressed seemingly mixed feelings about the movement. “Actually,” he said, “I wish that the charismatic movement in itself would ‘die’ so that the whole church would be a charismatic movement.”
There were a few success stories: parishes and cathedrals that have a strong blend of Bible teaching, pastoral leadership, and use of the sacraments with an “anointing from the Holy Spirit” among clergy and laity alike. But the majority of participants returned to churches that are mostly disinterested in charismatic renewal or opposed to it. Many vowed to try to start a weekly prayer and praise meeting or to try to instill “life” in Sunday services.
Conference leaders came up with a variety of suggestions for change in their parishes. A workshop dealing with ministry and leadership in the church concluded that some traditions of the church must be changed in order to achieve a New Testament-style Christianity. They suggested that the parish priest could share his responsibilities with elders in the church. For example, parishes could have prayer groups of around fifteen people who would meet regularly to pray together and be taught by a qualified elder. And women could be encouraged to have a greater share in the leadership of a parish.
There was much emphasis on teaching the Bible. “The Bible belongs to the Anglicans, too—not just the Baptists,” chided clergyman Everett “Terry” Fullam of St. Paul’s Church in Darien, Connecticut. “I don’t know of any church in the world which hears more Scripture but understands it less,” he declared. “It has not proclaimed the Word of God.… We Episcopalians have sacramentalized our people but have not evangelized them.”
Fullam said that the church is in great need of renewal, and he warned that its implementation would be like radical surgery. “God does not want to do a redecoration job in the church,” he said. “Instead, some things may need to be stripped down to the foundations. God may not be interested in renewing certain traditions.”
Another major conference theme: a renewed church is the most effective kind in the war against evil. Archbishop Burnett emphasized that spiritual gifts are essential for successful spiritual warfare. In a workshop on social action, he gave examples of how “baptism in the Spirit” had erased racism and banished hatred from the hearts of various people in South Africa.
There were plenty of reminders of the church’s responsibility to the poor. An offering at a weekend service netted about $10,000 for the work of the African bishops.
The conference was the brainchild of Fullam and Anglican clergyman Michael Harper of England, who were inspired by the Roman Catholic charismatic sponsorship of an international conference in Rome in 1975. The pair saw special significance in planning such a meeting just before the Lambeth Conference and in Canterbury, the spiritual home of the Anglican Church.
One of the prayers heard most among the Anglican charismatics was that the bishops at Lambeth would welcome the charismatic renewal as a solution to the problems that are plaguing the Anglican Communion.
JULIA DUIN
Diversifying The Outreach
Expansion and diversity were major concerns at the general assembly of the Church of God (Cleveland, Tennessee) last month in Kansas City. More than 18,000 persons, including some 2,500 voting delegates, attended the week-long meeting.
The delegates endorsed a goal of doubling the church’s fast-growing membership by 1986. Billing itself as America’s oldest continuing Pentecostal denomination, the church has a membership of 365,000 in North America, and it claims one million adherents worldwide.
The Spanish-language division of the church has doubled in the western United States over the past four years—from twenty-two churches with 915 members to forty-five churches with 1,700 members. That was cited as precedent for the ambitious growth goal. The assembly also voted to create a Spanish-language theological school to serve its Spanishspeaking members.
Some delegates expressed “a growing fear that power within the denomination is too concentrated.” This concern prompted a resolution specifying that the Council of Twelve—a body elected to conduct the business of the church between assemblies—include at least six pastors. A motion was also passed opening the way for more international and ethnic representation on the highest governing bodies of the church. A number of black and Hispanic leaders spoke of the “unity of this church” and of their commitment to work within the church to bring about changes.
The world missions department served notice that it is shifting its focus to twenty of the world’s largest cities and adjusting its techniques to include greater use of modern electronic communications.
Delegates in a resolution agreed to keep on pressing the television industry to regulate itself more carefully and to provide higher quality programming. The church has been a leader in the campaign against excessive violence, profanity, and sex on television.
In other business, the assembly adopted resolutions that called for increased emphasis on family life and that condemned abortion on demand, homosexual activity, and the Equal Rights Amendment.
The assembly elevated staff executive and educator Ray H. Hughes to the top post as general overseer. He succeeds Cecil B. Knight.
With Carter In Church
If President Jimmy Carter wants some peace and quiet when he goes to church, he is more apt to find it these days at the military chapel he sometimes attends near Camp David in Maryland than at his home church in Washington, D.C., or at the churches near his home in Plains, Georgia.
Last month Carter visited his mother, Miss Lillian, in Plains and went with her to Fellowship Baptist Church in nearby Americus. The President’s mother started attending Fellowship after an uproar over racial and other policies split Plains Baptist Church (see December 3, 1976, issue, page 50). A central figure in that dispute—black minister Clennon King of Albany, Georgia—showed up at Fellowship on the same day that Carter visited.
King distributed leaflets to reporters before the service, and he tried to give one to the President before he sat down. Instead, a Secret Service agent took it and asked the minister to leave. King said he wanted to attend the service, and he took a seat two rows behind Carter. After Pastor William Givens introduced some guests, King rose to introduce himself. He declared that an unidentified millionaire had offered to build a church for him in Plains but that Carter stopped it. “I love the President, and he loves me,” he said. “But he’s listening to the wrong Negroes.”
Carter did not turn around during the incident, and King sat quietly for the rest of the service. Carter later told reporters he knew nothing about the church but expressed hope that King would get it built. The black minister declined to offer proof of his allegation. “I just know it’s true,” he said.
Demonstrations of a more serious nature have marred services at First Baptist Church in Washington. Nine demonstrators against the neutron bomb were recently arrested there. Ushers carried a woman from the church after she launched into an antibomb speech during the offertory. Two other demonstrators were removed earlier when they spoke out in the President’s Sunday school class. It was the second time that protesters disrupted Sunday services at the church.
Carter told reporters that he too has concern for nuclear disarmament. But, he added, “a demonstration in church that disrupts the worship service is not the best forum in which to express one’s feelings.”
Foreclosure
Once again the wolf is knocking at the door of controversial separatist leader Carl McIntire. The city of Cape May, New Jersey, has begun foreclosure proceedings on all his Bible conference and former college properties in town. The city claims that McIntire owes about $500,000 in back taxes. The amount includes more than $360,000 on an administrative and library facility left vacant after less than two years of use when McIntire’s Shelton College was forced to move out of the state.
McIntire received a favorable court ruling in his struggle to obtain tax exempt status, but the city claims the ruling applies only to one year. A judge ruled last month that the unused college property, assessed at $1.3 million, is taxable. It is being eyed as a possible city hall.
City and county inspectors have peppered McIntire’s conference facilities with scores of violations in what many observers believe is a harassment campaign.
The minister is making a last-ditch emergency appeal to raise the money.
