Every priest has his or her “framed” letter; some priests are even lucky enough to have two or three of these.
The framed letter is the one that tells us we’ve had a positive impact on someone in some way, shape or form through a particular ministry we have done. It might be pastoral, it might be preaching, it might be teaching, but the form of ministry is not the reason the letter is framed. Rather, this framing happens because in a priest’s world, too often we focus on the negative feedback we get and wonder whether anything we do is worthwhile. In these times, the framed correspondence reminds us that sometimes, in a positive way, our ministry actually does make a difference.
Recently, I was a participant in a national church conference called Nurturing Healthy Parishes. I was there as one of the delegates from the Diocese of Niagara. When I was asked to go to this conference, in typical fashion, I queried: “Why me?” There is little that is ever light with me and little that goes unquestioned. If the diocese was going to pay my expenses in order that I should attend this event, I wanted to know what purpose I would be serving.
There were a number of responses to my question: “You’re a good communicator, you’re a critical thinker and you’re ministering in a healthy parish.” Yes, perhaps, but “I’m not the rah! rah! sort,” I responded. “I’m not an overly-optimistic sort of person.” Apparently, the concerns I raised would not be an issue. So, I found myself on my way to the national church’s Healthy Parishes symposium – going with an open mind and the most optimistic approach that I was able to muster, considering my currently pessimistic outlook on the wider church.
After spending three and a half days at this conference, what I discovered during this time was the national Anglican Church’s “framed” letter.
In the Anglican Church of Canada’s recent history, the only thing the wider community seems to know about our denomination is the scandal of the native residential schools, the almost bankruptcy of the national church, the closure of one diocese because of such bankruptcy and the in-fighting amongst clergy and laypeople over homosexuality. Instead, during my stay at Geneva Park, I discovered that there is actually something positive buried within the chaos of the last several years. There is a “framed” letter in our church, a letter on which I am certain we would do well to make a better attempt to focus.
Revealed to me was a powerful ministry happening in parishes across the country – parishes so incredibly diverse and different from one another – geographically, spiritually, intellectually, emotionally and, sometimes, simply in terms of size. Yet, in these same communities, people are being fed and cared for. Those who are participating in these ministries – the ones with whom I shared conversation and broke bread over three and a half days – believe in what they are doing and, because of this, they are, without a doubt, having a positive impact in some form or another in the assorted communities from which they come. The reason for their mission is uncomplicated. It lies in their heartfelt commitment to follow an example given to them by Jesus.
Years ago, I worked for a short time in the national office of the Anglican Church of Canada. What I remember about the time I spent there was an excitement about the work the church was doing both in Canada and around the world. It was in the “fat” days, when institutions, such as the church, still seemed to be intact. There was money to spend and, perhaps even more significant than this, an imagination to go along with this money. At that time, there were bright things happening in our church and bright people making these same things happen.
Here’s what I discovered at the Nurturing Healthy Churches conference. There is not much question that the money that was there years ago is no longer available. Having said this, however, the differences in the decades pretty much come to a halt. There are still bright things happening in the church across the country and there are still most definitely bright people making these things happen. More to the point, we are a church filled with strikingly committed people, people who have not thrown their hands up in despair over a lack of money and a misguided focus on sex and sexuality.
Perhaps the most optimistic thing about the time I spent at Geneva Park was that, while undoubtedly the participants in this event were not all on the same side of the “issue,” nonetheless, this issue never came up, at least not in any conversations I had with anyone. On the Friday evening, when the primate, Andrew Hutchison, came to speak and respond to questions, only one of these questions reflected the current troubles in the worldwide Anglican Communion. Were we avoiding the uncomfortable? Perhaps… and, yet, I really didn’t feel this to be the case. Instead, what I felt was a genuine unity around a desire for each one of us to be participant in the building of a healthier national church, one that would continue to do what it has done for over a century – ministry in Christ’s name across this vast country of ours.
I am grateful for having been asked to attend this conference. While it’s true that I received fresh ideas to take back to our diocese and to my parish, and that it appears the conference will mark the beginning of a networking of people and Anglican communities across the country who can share and help one another in the ministry we are all doing, my thankfulness goes much deeper than the practical aids which may come out of it. My gratitude is much more related to a renewed sense of hope that I have for the Anglican Church, in general, and the Anglican Church of Canada, in particular, a hope that, for me, has been rapidly waning in the last few years.
I can only pray that ultimately all of us will see the merit in recognizing and acknowledging our differences and our disagreements, thereby allowing for the existence of the other amongst us, as we seek and continue to minister in the neediest moments of people’s lives.
Nissa Basbaum
