fishers, surfers and casters

Wed 18 Oct 2006

8 Responses to “Sydney Anglicans’ new site”

1. philjohnson Says:
   October 19th, 2006 at 10:40

   Paul

   The Sydney Anglican venture undoubtedly springs from the best intentions. However it is fraught with many problems.

   One problem is that the website and the ensuing project will suffer from the defect of not understanding today’s Sydney culture. Much of what informs the content of messages on the website (and what will probably develop) is shaped by an internal sub-cultural monologue — the perceptions of Sydney as seen by Sydney Anglicans. Those perceptions are socially constructed and reinforced through specific filters that Sydney Anglicans in this project will largely hold in common. The perceptions lead to the construction of a picture of Sydney culture and its spiritual ethos that is highly susceptible to being reified. That is a mutually shared interpretation will be projected forth, self-validated and perpetuated, but with the high risk of failing to communicate with anyone meaningfully beyond their own sub-culture.

   I have observed the activities of some contributors already and it does not bode well for the start of next year’s work. There are too many Dorothy Dix questions posed — self-posed questions with ready-made chunks of “answers” worked out in advance. So one sees “Can I believe that the Bible is historically dependable?” – a question posed by an insider (ie Moore College student); it is then replied to by another Moore student or recently ordained graduate “hey let me show you the evidences.” Now I am not saying that the “evidences” are invalid. However is this a question posed from non-Christians interacting with the website? All too often the impression created is “no” — hence the monologue.

   To this I can add that the same practice ensues with letters to the editor of the Sydney Morning Herald. Contrived answers are submitted in response to news comments arising from what the Archbishop said. Self-posed questions, self-supplied answers. So how can there be authentic dialogue, genuine mutuality in discussion and learning from each other? If the declaratory stance is what shapes the way the website functions, then it will preach to the choir.

   While I am sure that some tech-savvy folks will help the project, one can have lots of bells and whistles and still misfire in communicating with “the other”. I cannot foresee many people wanting to download the Brothers Jensens’ sermons onto iPods and MP3 players, or talks given by Tony Payne, John Dickson and Archie Poulos — irrespective of how gifted and astute their presentations may be. Access to audio-files (especially if one has a 50 minute audio session) presupposes knowledge of webmedia software, broadband access to high speed and large monthly allowances from the ISP to download many megabytes etc. It also assumes that even if the site is superbly configured that there are many customers out in cyberland who actually want to talk to evangelicals.

   If the venture is to succeed it requires self-critical reflection about boundary-maintenance in the sub-culture of the diocese. It requires a willingness to suspend the monological soap-box and Dorothy Dix menu of issues, and allows free respectful exchanges on problems and topics that non-Christians want to discuss.

   Based on current form, I am not very hopeful about this venture extending its reach beyond the choir.

2. paul Says:
   October 19th, 2006 at 19:03

   Phil,

   You hit the nail right on the head. Those “top 5″ questions posed on the site were way too obviously staged questions.

   I think it will serve only to make viewers of the site more alienated from the discussion, not knowing the right lingo to use, or feeling like they can’t ask the right questions.

   I downloaded a couple of the podcasts when I first heard the they were delivering them on their other site. I thought firstly that they were horribly boring, long speeches with no added music or anything that would offer a high production value that downloaders are now expecting. Secondly it was a podcast full of “answers”, and long-winded ones at that. These “answer”-based sermons and diatribes left me angry, making me feel like I had been “talked down to” rather than challenged.

   I want to ask you, Phil. Firstly, who is Dorothy Dix? Secondly, what is Sydney culture that the Sydney Anglican sub-culture misunderstands? Please understand these aren’t questions to challenge you, just questions from an ignorant Victorian.

3. philjohnson Says:
   October 20th, 2006 at 15:47

   Paul

   1). Dorothy Dix was the pseudonym of a female US journalist Elizabeth Meriwether Gilmer (1870-1951). She was a columnist who became known for posing questions to her own column to which she would then supply the answers/commentary. The expression “Dorothy Dix questions” has found its way into some political discourses (even in Australia). Questions by Government backbenchers to Federal Government ministers in Canberra are often typecast by the Opposition parties and journalists as “Dorothy Dix questions”.

   2). As for Sydney culture and what/how is it misunderstood by some Sydney Anglicans … that could almost turn into a book project! On the one hand these folks are on the side of the angels in their desire to pass on the gospel of Christ to others, and whatever eccentricities and failings there may be found, God works out the details.

   Now with that in mind, I would frame my observations and/or criticisms around several topics.

   A). The cultural exegesis of Sydney is hampered in general by the social stratification of the Diocese – it is largely populated by those who hold to conservative middle-class values and lifestyles. Now they are not peculiar in this stratification as other churches suffer from similar problems. The difficulty is that in a middle-class dominated network of congregations, social stratification occurs as “like attracts like”. It is very hard for the church ethos and style and theology espoused in these networks to effectively translate beyond the bubble — it does not really reach very well into the lives and experiences of blue-collar working class people (and the suburbs that are characterised by blue-collar values).

   B). Another correlative is that its success is found among certain clusters of young adults many of whom have undergraduate degrees (Uni of Sydney, Uni of NSW, Macq Uni — but poorly under-represented in UWS). Out of that talent pool come younger lay leaders as well as many who pursue theological training (and become ordained to the ministry). These networks tend to also be shaped and reinforced by shared experiences and shared values and shared techniques in conducting lay ministries. The end result is “like attracts like”, and those outside the general mould either are marginalised or never come within the orbit of contact. So the assumptions about Sydney culture (be it Anglo-Celt stock or conservative East Asian stock) tend to be limited by their own horizons and spheres of contact.

   C). The exegesis of culture tends to yield a certain sameness in perspective about how Sydneysiders behave and think, which works fine in limited boundaries (like on uni campuses, in lower north shore suburbs etc). The strength they possess is being able to engage with specific patterns of thought held by fringe dwellers of the church (those who occasionally attend a church) or those who essentially hold to a fairly dogmatic way of viewing reality in the first instance (imagine a hard-boiled fundamentalist atheist who hands out tracts promoting the Humanist Manifestoes and Origin of Species). It is generally easier for someone whose personality traits and experiences of life fit into fixed patterns of thinking about “right/wrong; true/false”.

   D). The tremendous weakness of the exegesis is that anything that stands outside a certain box – that which is largely unfamiliar to the Christian – is negated as marginal, fringe, irrational, and insignificant. I have noted this problem in attitudes manifested about the trends within Sydney where many have gravitated to experimental and do-it-yourself approaches to non-Christian spiritualities (new age, neo-pagan, Goth, neo-Buddhist etc). So “new age” for example is superficially understood as mystical and non-rational, and the response to it is one of debunking beliefs and pointing to the “rationality” of hristian beliefs. The emphasis is often on cognitive faith with little appreciation for the intuitive and experiential nature of these alternate approaches to life. The outcome, no serious or sustained interaction takes place with these networks. Instead the assumption is that disbelief in Christianity is coterminous with humanist, atheist and formal agnostic philosophical thinking.

   E). There is not a great deal of appreciation for the subtleties entailed in cross-cultural exegesis, cross-cultural communication especially as it pertains to the history of missions. So there is not much interest in looking at Sydney culture(s) anthropologically, sociologically etc. Since the main aim is to persuade people to hear the good news and repent and become discipled, the need to differentiate how social networks and groups form, sustain and maintain themselves is largely not comprehended, let alone acted on. In its simplistic form, a set menu of evangelistic tools are relied on as the primary way for initiating discourses (or monologues).

   F). Even when some aspects of popular culture are identified as issues, the exegesis and response tends to be partial or incomplete. For example, the folks have correctly noted the momentum surrounding the novel and film The Da Vinci Code. Various seminars and booklets have been produced that analyse the claims and identify serious misinformation contained in the story. The response is one that offers basic information as to why the novel is unreliable on Christian origins, beliefs and history, complemented by evidences to positively show the gospel records are primary sources alongside a restatement of “believe and repent”. The primary shortcoming is that no refection takes place: what does the Da Vinci Code say back to the church about its “unpaid bills”? There is little recognition of the manner in which people mistrust institutions like Churches, and the suspicion that information has been suppressed (e.g. secret gospels suppressed and recently recovered). Alongside that is how the Da Vinci Code has helped to inform people who have already begun a spiritual journey into non-Christian pathways — none of this engaged with let alone acknowledged as issues that need to be addressed in dialogue.

   G). Curious and sad gaps also emerge in ministry efforts. For example one of the major congregations (in Centennial Park) is located next to the suburb of Sydney best known for its male gay population. The congregation has been big, courtesy of its university-student base, but hardly any exgesis of the gay culture, the spiritualities being explored in gay culture (goth, vampire, neo-pagan, neo-Buddhist, new age), and very little response except by way of common rejection of homosexuality as a moral problem. Other examples could no doubt be brought forward, but I think this illustrates the point of either having a narrow understanding or a narrow sphere of interaction with the culture(s) of Sydney generally.

   H). The problem ensues further where some individuals emerge as expert voices on specific topics, but the underlying unanswered question is to what extent is the individual credentialled and recognised as an expert in the first place? For example, a novel has been composed about Islam but it is unclear if the author has studied Islamic studies at university, is conversant in the sacred language (Arabic), or has had any cross-cultural training in ministry with Muslims. The difficulty as I see it is a reified picture of Islam arises and others untrained in the field rely in part on it as a guide to knowing and understanding (or simply dismissing) the various communities in Sydney (Turk, Lebanese, Chinese, Paksitani etc) that are Islamic.

   I). If one can speak of a “general Aussie outlook” in Sydney (a dangerous idea I know), I do not see how the Diocese can meaningfully interact with it on a widespread scale. We are in a culture where many people have found themselves in self-sufficiency in career and material acquisitions and manage on their daily routines without the imperative to belong to a congregation that gathers every week. It is not necessarily “godless”, but the “theory of God” just does not figure high on the richter scale for people unless svere personal crises compel a lot of soul-searching. If one is in “survival mode” trying to just make ends meet from week to week with a basic pay-packet there is not a lot of time to be philosophical or theological. What benefit is there then, asks the Aussie, in commuting to a church and affiliating with people with whom I have next to nothing in common? As basic sociological studies show capitalism has been the single greatest eroder of traditional social structures especially relative to family units, and churches tend to idealise certain modern middle class versions of family that are unrelated in many ways to the experiences of many Sydneysiders.

   Life is exceedingly busy and sociologically the Diocese is unable to compete with the trends let alone change the behaviour and attitudes in the community relative to work obligations, material comfort and recreation. To add in Sunday meetings is to add yet more onto an already overloaded schedule for most people — even assuming they were the least bit interested in what happens at church.

   J). Stories of success in some parts of the Diocese are often not probed deeply for a mature grasp of what is happening in Sydney generally. A relative of mine by way of marriage told me how the congregation he is part of is bursting at the seams. Multiple church services are needed, attendance rates are high, and programmes are booming. I asked, “and out of this remarkable growth in numbers how many have come froma non-Christian and non-church background?” After a moment the reply came “none that I know of”. The “success” was achieved by people already in the fold commuting from other gatherings (Anglican or otherwise).

   Now in citing that anecdote I merely point to the veneer of seeming success. I am not claiming that all efforts fail to ever reach non-Christians, there clearly are people who convert to faith in Christ and join these congregations. However, what is touted as success is not necessarily always a case of adding in some of that targetted 10% of the Sydney population by 2012.

   And it would be possible to go on with more observations. I trust God blesses their efforts, but I feel some sober reflections are honestly needed.

4. paul Says:
   October 20th, 2006 at 16:38

   Phil,

   Reading your comment I’m also left thinking that the Sydney Anglican evangelical project is one of enculturation – to bring people into a Sydney Aglican way of seeing their own culture, even asking them to remove themselves from it, and seeing Sydney in a new way – to become more “middle class” white even. Would I be close to the mark?

   I find the thought of people who claim themselves as “experts” in other religions, particularly Islam, and writing books about it, frightening. Really frightening. Personally, I would only read a book about Islam by a Muslim, or at least a Christian-Muslim discussion group.

5. philjohnson Says:
   October 21st, 2006 at 09:11

   Paul

   The process you call enculturation is not exactly what cross-cultural missions theory entails. The usual way for cross-cultural ministry to proceed is to join the culture and to minister as a contributor to that culture — one brings disciples to Christ in their culture and does not extract people out of their culture. That sociological mistake did occur in 19th century missions in Africa and India but contemporary missiologists are keenly aware: see that thou doest it not!

   The “enculturation” you refer to has two steps: (a) extract individuals from their host culture and (b) make them active members of the sub-culture (which is where the “enculturation” occurs). Some missiologists, like H. L. Richard, basically call this “extraction evangelism” and they see this as a fundamental failure on the part of Christians to properly comprehend the Missio Dei.

   The conceptual difficulty is that the Diocese is operating with an understanding of evangelism that can function quite well if one is living in a society where Christianity has high allegiance in the population. Unfortunately there are very few places remaining in the First World where one can assume that ethos. The growing awareness in discourses about the First World’s rejection of (or indifference to) Christianity is that any engagement with culture needs to be missiologically shaped. If one begins to think in missiological categories then one’s praxis will necessarily be very different. It will not follow a rote-learned method of using a gospel tract nor use attractional methods of “come join my bible study group”.

   The vocabulary that pervades the approach currently favoured in the Diocese is the vocabulary of the church that arises from the past. The expression “bible study” is not part of vernacular speech among everyday Australians, and the word “study” can evoke images of a cognitive intellectual soaking up of information. Indeed the very word study also evokes even among Christians the image of “rationalism” rather than a vibrant spiritual life. While the best intentions are to introduce people to the person and teaching of Jesus, the primary vocabulary that shapes the venture speaks well to the in-crowd but does not correlate to that of the outsider.

   One can detect the same difficulties in the advertising brochures distributed at different times to invite people to attend lunch-time talks. Again, the intention is honourable but the vocabulary ends up speaking to the insider not the outsider. Instead of making the outsider feel “welcome” the language used and the sub-text messages already create boundary-zones that make it clear if you “belong” or not. While people on church fringes can be scooped up in this process and socialised into the sub-culture, it is extraordinarily difficult for the person who has no connection to church to fit in very well at such events.

   One series of talks generated a few months ago was heralded by a mass distribution of flyers at railway stations. Ironically large quantities were dumped in the waste disposal bins at the railway stations. The brochures were handsomely designed, no expense spared in quality of layout and graphics. However the brochure was structured with an article that read like a semi-popular essay. The essay dismissed the trivialities of current pop culture with reality TV, materialism and celebrity gossip. And while many Christians could easily agree yes much of this is trivial and banal, the net effect of the message was to erect an exclusion zone: we think this way, you think that way. Again while the honourable effort was made to generate an interest in discovering Christ, the message was short-circuited at the outset by the content of the invitational brochure.

   The book I mentioned about Islam was actually a novel, and one that was later esteemed with a book award. So although it was not an exposition of the Islamic faith, the net effect is that the characterisation of Islam occurs through the genre of fiction. Fiction can shape the views of readers and can alter or reinforce prejudices especially when the reading audience is not grounded in any primary knowledge or experiences of Islam.

   One need only look at the impact of pop Christian fiction to see how Christian readers are influenced by novels that interact with other beliefs — here I think of the American novels of Frank Peretti that many Christians have relied on as a powerful guide to the “deception” and “evil” of new age spirituality. During the 1990s when I presented awareness seminars on new age and the questions it poses back to the church, I invariably found myself fighting bush-fires ignited by those who had formed their entire outlook on new age courtesy of Peretti’s novels.

   In the current climate where Islam is a bogeyman, better understanding is required first on the part of Christians before any meaningful dialogue or response can occur. I do not believe that a novel is the best way to find out about Islam (or any other religion for that matter).

   I might add, but without elaboration, there are other publications where parallel problems ensue in the description, comprehension and analysis of other non-Christian ideas, movements or pathways in the broader society. In effect the literature nihilates the “alien” viewpoint, and the authors act as guardians of the gates explaining to the in-group what ensues in the “out-group”. In effect reality construction and boundary maintenance becomes the primary social process attached to the literature. The authors would not see their role that way, instead believing that they are truly communicating with the outsider.

   Some sober and patient self-reflection, if based on a wider dialogue (with other Christians beyond the networks of the Diocese, as much as with non-Christians) might lead to a different discourse and approach. However, that is not likely to occur until the entire project of outreach and church expansion reaches a fully recognisable cul-de-sac. Perhaps by 2050 the contraction cycle will have so caught up with the current generation that “reality” will compel a radical reassessment. While I would be pleased to rejoice over a wider acceptance of Christ in Sydney, methinks the zeal and energy expended between 2006-2012 is not going to yield a long-term positive result on the scale imagined.

6. michael jensen Says:
   December 31st, 2007 at 22:08

   Sigh – just typed out a long response, it got lost because I didn’t answer the stupid maths question.

   SUffice to say:

   1 – some of your analysis is fair, but I plead in part simple incompetence. Missioning is a tough job and we could do it better.

   2 – Some of the anecdotes here could be met with counterexamples: non-churched people finding Christ (many I could name), churches where this is more common than others, ministries specifically geared to blue-collared workers and people of tougher ethnic groups (the Greeks and the Vietnamese for example). So, this analysis is WAY harsh.

   3 – the trouble with the sociological/anthropological analyses is that they trumpet their conclusions while concealing their inexactitudes. We follow the path of the sociologist at our peril, it seems to me. And often enough, the exegesis of the culture is the only exegesis that is done. I could supply anecdotes here.

   4 – where’s the beef? Where are the examples of great missiological connections happening in Western culture using sociological tools? As far as I see it, emergent church (for example) are peopled by – minister’s kids like me!!! I am not kidding! They aren’t connecting anymore than the trad methods are.

7. michael jensen Says:
   January 1st, 2008 at 00:48

   …not to mention, I should add, Sydney Anglican initiatives at being missional to groups that congregate in professional or special interest areas, such as
   in the areas of the Visual Arts, Media and the Performing Arts, or city workers…

   We could do better. I really think so… and not least by paying attention to sociological readings of our surrounding culture. But at least we are doing something…

   BTW, the 10 per cent goal is deliberately set at a level that only God could achieve. It is meant as a challenge to all our structures and missiological thinking, rather than as a piece of absurd braggadacio

8. paul Says:
   January 1st, 2008 at 02:19

   Thanks for your comments. That post was written a very long time ago and I’m surprised people are still reading the site from back then. May I ask, how you came across that post? Google?

   And I must admit, I think I’ve grown somewhat since writing that post too. I apologise that it appears extremely overly-critical of the site. You are right – it is something. It has a great design, it’s very easy to navigate, the word-picture text relationship is balanced. All great stuff.

   And like Phil, I cannot deny that the work comes from the best intentions. I guess a certain button of mine was hit and I wanted to whinge. Though it was so long ago, man.

   So you’re in the theology school at Oxford? What’s that like?

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