Semper Reformanda – A Review Of My Second (Presbyterian Church In Ireland) General Assembly

On Thursday morning as I collected my yellow lanyard, I remembered what my mother always said about never stepping in the same river twice. She’d never got over Dunoon. On her first visit in the 1980s, it was thriving. She’d bought lots of mugs, been chatted up by a sailor. Twenty years later, it was in decline. The US navy had moved on, the pottery had relocated to a factory shop in the West Midlands. Around 11.30am, I told my favourite Clerk of Presbytery that the novelty had definitely worn off. I could never write ‘My First General Assembly’ ever again. We were in the gallery. There were plenty of seats up there. I wouldn’t need to break my neck running down the stairs to vote before they closed the door because I didn’t have one, a vote. I wouldn’t need a medical certificate or a note from my granny, John Dunlop. Voting had something to do with subscribing to an umbrella document.

“What’s your takeaway this year?” I asked anyone who had the misfortune to spend time with me in Costa - a deaconess, a ‘headquarters’ employee, a Clerk of Session, an under 30s rep, the entire media team. This year, I’d expanded my coffee shops to include Ground and Starbucks. There were Blue Books under arms in all of them. It had taken on a personality of its own. It wouldn’t win the Women’s Prize for Fiction but it was longer than Demon Copperhead, substantially thicker than a copy of The Code in 1868. Forty years of Blue Books could be unearthed when you move house. It was wise to get them professionally shredded. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if someone who shouldn’t, got their hands on them. I was worried there were no major takeaways. The whole thing felt messy and at times, sad. There was insufficient time for the items that required most debate, too much time given to tick box exercises. Decisions were slipped under the radar because they didn’t impact the loudest voices. We’d covered care homes to AI, intellectual disabilities to virtual communion, education to lament. It was clear that alongside still not being able to frame questions, no one understood what a Green Paper was. Although at least it was a first. There would be an inaugural consultation on a different approach to doing church and ministry. Many didn’t understand remit either. The Pandemic Response Task Group had to repeatedly emphasise that they were not conducting the Covid-19 Inquiry.

Over three days of not voting, I realised that what causes us angst tends to be individual rather than collective, issues only becoming relevant when they become personal to us – pensions, extending worship into the digital space, not moving Presbytery services out of The Code and into regulations. I was particularly concerned about the re-location of The Herald because it might impact its neutrality and me. Although, I doubted my 2023 review would be published. It was harsher than 2022 and far too long. 1200 words just wasn’t enough. I’d heard third hand that there was less good news this year. It was a fair summary. Listening to the global church was still the light in the darkness but we needed to not only listen to them, we needed to learn from them, especially when it came to attitudes to women. The global church was growing whilst we were in decline. Except, in spite of what the stats said, maybe we weren’t actually in decline. It was the elephant in the room. The Reconfiguration of Ministry Task Group were accused of rearranging the deckchairs. The best advice on everything to do with decline came in a four-minute video on good investment. “We don’t own the assets we are managing,” it said, “we move those that don’t listen out of our investment universe”. “The companies that won yesterday might not be the winners of tomorrow. Fundamental changes are needed”.  

Theological, moral and spiritual principles and protecting the ordained-ness of the ordained were of paramount importance this year. We were warned that if we have fog in the pulpit, there’d be cloud in the pews. I was an expert on sermons, listening to plenty of them even if I didn’t learn anything from them. I knew there was a preference for four points which began with the same letter. I wondered if I could find a letter to sum up my Assembly experiences. C seemed like a good choice. There was cash, cash, cash and Clive. “Who is Clive?” I asked on Saturday afternoon. He was a Methodist, but he’d received a standing ovation during a session in which I discovered what I and the Moderator had in common. We both knew nothing about finance. It was reassuring, however, that there was a dividend equalisation reserve. In his speech, Clive said it was a privilege to work for the Presbyterian Church and he would pray for his successor every day. Clive didn’t over-complicate things. The other elephant in the room was that the Kingdom of God does indeed require financial resource. But we couldn’t sell off Assembly Buildings. We’d have to find the £220k because the Doctrine Committee would need to move in there and keep the LED lights on all night.

It was also during this money session, that there was one question I could answer. Why were we paying the UK Border Agency? I’d been listening. We’d been told two days before about the difficulties of securing visas, how much the UK government felt threatened by Christians. The Welsh weren’t a threat but it seemed women were. Prior to ending a desire to encourage women and allowing those who had turned up especially at 3pm to exit before the thank-yous, the Clerk asked for a whole ten seconds to find the right paragraph in The Code. He found it without even turning a page. “When one Professor asks another Professor a question, the Clerk gives the answer,” he said proudly. The Moderator’s discretion was absolutely the Clerk’s. He was described as omni-competent.

“There’s a place in the world for a humble church,” said the outgoing Moderator. The incoming one said we needed to be more confident in Christ. That was another C - confidence. It was abundantly clear this year that Latin mattered. Confidence came from the words con (with) and fide (faith). To be confident, it seems, is simply to have faith. Although, it may also help to be white, male, called and accepted. I did want to apologise though to the retired ministers (especially those who are so retired, they only go by their surname) for my unfair comments last year. I had suggested they stay seated more. This year, they seemed much kinder than their younger successors. Being a passionate supporter of women is a meme we all need and if Elton John can still wow Glastonbury at 76, well I’m happy to be wowed by older men that value me. When during the not-so brief statement on faith and order, when we walked through the grammatical moods¹, there was a definite need for retired professors over 80 who know their Latin. Semper reformanda is not a participle, it is a gerundive. It is not about always being reformed, it is about always having to be reformed. That and its application might be the takeaway from the 2023 General Assembly.

I was conscious that it would be impossible to do this Assembly justice because I just couldn’t be there for all of it. Perhaps I had missed the good news. I wanted to hear more behind the scenes titbits, what the Moderator got for his dinner, who was last out and turned off the lights, who the other person was using my toilet. I mainly wanted to know more about the wives. John talked fondly about Joan and Joan was now inducting Karen. I felt an affinity with both of them. My role as a ‘wife standing by her man supporting him to do his big new job’ meant I was unable to attend on Friday evening. I’d skipped parts of Friday afternoon too because I’d done exactly what John Kirkpatrick, Portrush told me to do – help in a school. When I spent the weekend on livestream catch-up, I realised just how sensitive the mic was. I was relieved a Council Secretary had moved in out of the way before the Moderator knocked him down.

We needed to listen, but we needed to hear more of the human stories - the father of a daughter with SEN, the highlights of students at Derryvolgie, the tribute to Michelle Purdy who was courageous and funny and spirit-filled and whose messages to me on Twitter as CheekyDeac were always about her addiction to buying plants. The stories on pages 55 and 56 of the Annual Reports were there so that debate did not take place in the abstract. We were advised to consider the socio-economic causes of abortion, how we can’t say we are pro-life if we are not also pro women’s rights. If we are not pro women’s rights, then we are just trying to pass a law without caring about the causes or consequences. I wanted to hear more of what God was saying and I was glad he had talked to at least one minister on the bus.  As I’d got off the Glider with a Very Reverend Doctor, he’d suggested we run across four lanes of traffic so we wouldn’t be late. He was one of the few to mention taking risks in his report.

When the topic of inclusion cropped up, we were told it was about more than inclusion. It was about Biblical belonging. It was ambitious to jump straight to belonging, seeing as we weren’t even at diversity yet. It was hard to know where to go with the culture, but we could maybe start with tweaking our use of language. I wasn’t sure which one I was - factory, economic or psychological man or why the new Head of Communications was a ‘he’ before the recruitment process had even been conducted. There was also way too much football, not only teams I’d heard of but also weird ones like Sunderland.

“Every Assembly has its own feel,” said someone who’d enjoyed far too many of them. The South was a key priority this year. More workers were needed, more applications from the ROI to Union, much greater ecumenical partnership. It was reflected in the cash, cash, cash. There were euros in the collection plate. Clive would probably bank them. There’d been fraud in Munster Presbytery in the 1800s, but it was about time there was a Presbytery there again.

“What is it for?” asked the man ominously who had shredded forty copies of the Blue Book. It was a roundabout way of asking what the Presbyterian Church was for. Those responsible for social witness were able to answer him best. “Religion produces Pharisaism, the Gospel produces hope and love”. We were only there to bring good news. “Does theology trump compassion?” asked Audrey Carville on Sunday Sequence as she interviewed two retired ministers about the supposed hostility towards the church from a society supposedly intolerant of contrary views. I was struck by the comment in Appendix D, paragraph 20, p300 from a report exploring first hand experiences of BME members of PCI. “Were I not a follower of Jesus already, there is nothing in the church that would attract me to faith in Jesus”. We needed to take a long hard look at ourselves first before labelling others. We needed to listen to some of the statements made on Saturday. “Our unity validates our message to a lost world”. “A house divided against itself cannot stand”. “We have to set aside our own rights and privileges as believers in order to facilitate the common good”. “We must be willing to sacrifice personal preference in secondary things for the greater cause and calling”.  

Semper reformanda. What did it mean? Well, apparently, the part of religion that is always having to be reformed is the human heart.

“Sometimes,” the Clerk said, “it’s important to state the obvious”. He was referring to only using one vote, that is if you had one in the first place. So let me finish with my stating the obvious. No-one will ever understand the difference between guidelines and guidance. I will also finish with a question now I know who Clive is. Who is Henry Cooke?

P.S. I just didn’t have room for the decision and dissent debate but here’s a quick summary – I think you can dissent from the pulpit but not on social media. I was reminded again of my mother. “Don’t air your dirty linen in public,” she said.

1. Indicative, imperative, optative, interrogative, subjunctive.