Motives, and Beyond

A View From The Pew

by Gerry Hunter

In 1956, I lived in Moncton, New Brunswick. I am a Nova Scotian, as was my mother. Her parent's families, on both sides, were Cape Breton coal miners. That November was an eventful time. Soviet tanks invaded Hungary. That meant my father, then an RCAF sergeant, got a bit busier. But then, in Springhill NS, there was an explosion in the number 4 mine. Dad got even busier, as the supply depot where he was stationed had something else to respond to. For our family, a mine disaster was something close to home, from a number of perspectives.

Canadian television, in the Maritimes, was in its infancy. There was no national network yet, but Halifax, Charlottetown, Saint John, and Moncton were linked together. CBC Halifax, in its infancy, was broadcasting from the pithead. And we watched, both with interest and concern.

As we watched a nighttime broadcast, some draegermen, mining rescue specialists, emerged from the pit into the floodlights. They were very tired, and the lights clearly hurt their eyes. Into camera range, there came a man, wearing a big armband. The symbol on it was plain, even in black and white - the symbol of a well-known, international and national relief agency. The armband toward the camera, and unaware of a nearby live microphone, he coaxed the rescue miners towards a canteen trailer, also bearing his agency's symbol. It served coffee, and those tired, brave men sure wanted one. The first miner took a paper cup full of coffee off the ledge. Then, the microphone picked up a voice from behind the counter. "Ten cents, please." If that man had a dime (their locker room had been looted), he didn't have it with him. But then another figure came into view.

The figure was of a man, and we could see on the screen he was from the Salvation Army. He took the paper cup from the miner's hand, put it back on the ledge, and handed him a large, porcelain mug of coffee. The microphone picked up his saying, "Here, son, you look like you could use this."

The big agency meant well. It meant to do good, as it had so often done before. The dime wasn't the issue here. Most of the time the issue wouldn't have arisen. But the pithead, and that moment wasn't "most of the time." The big agency, probably because of its size and bureaucratic structures, had lost the significance of the difference between the request, "Here, give me your hand," and "Here, take my hand," to people in extreme circumstances.

Since last June, there has been a lot of torment I the pews in New Westminster. Tension was inevitable. There is tension in the eight parishes. Their coalition, the Anglican Communion in New Westminster, has also known this tension. As time has passed, they have heard, many times, "Give me your hand." We know we remain committed to the faith once delivered to the saints, but those looking in, from parishes suffering their own tensions, and from other perspectives, cannot always see that. The reactions to tensions, to those looking in, can appear to be dissention, in the parishes, and in the coalition. In trying times, differences surface, but in trying times, to a much greater degree, faithfulness sustains. And we are promised times of refreshing, such as when a clear, unequivocal call from fellow believers, "Here, take my hand!" is heard.

On Sunday night, the 9th of February, the Vancouver Pastor's Prayer Fellowship, hosted a "Celebration of Orthodoxy" as a way of giving us their hands. Close to 900 people were there, as we sang and spoke our worship of the one true God, His Son Jesus Christ, the only Saviour, enlivened by the Holy Spirit. The Word we shared was from Acts, Chapter 2, 1-6, 14-16, 27-47. We heard of the formation of the Church at Pentecost, how Peter set out the need to hear, respond to, and act on the message of salvation we today have in Holy Scripture, and how the Church, from the beginning, was centred on the apostle's teaching, fellowship as a gift for faithfulness, the breaking of bread, and prayer. The response of all the Christian people gathered that night was intense, as they heard that message made clear, not by someone from a denomination free from the apostasy of the Anglican diocese, but from an Anglican Bishop, Chuck Murphy, sent by Archbishop Kolini of the Anglican Province of Rwanda, to be with us.

Broadway Church has Pentecostal roots. It is large and well equipped, but not built in the tradition of the more ornate cathedrals and basilicas many believers of Anglican heritage might be used to. It is a place for a plain message, and the message was plainly given. There was no attempt at an elaborate, ornate, polished presentation that one might see on a television program. There was just a skilful, articulate breaking and sharing of the bread of the Word of God. Even a bit of confusion between the coordination of the presenter and a simultaneous translation into Cantonese passed quickly, in a manner that suggested the bishop and the translator had worked together many times. They didn't have the coordination that comes from a rehearsal, only that which comes from skill and a common faith in God and His Son, and the help of the Holy Spirit. It was a good object lesson. There was tension, but it did not impede the delivery of the message of Holy Scripture.

There have been many pleas for support coming from the parishes in the embattled coalition. And there was a plea for support last night. But it didn't come from within the coalition, or even from an Anglican. It came, passionately and articulately, from one of the sponsoring pastors, and may God be praised, it was answered most generously in the offering. There followed a time of moving prayer, for marriage and the family, for the church universal and the coalition, and for our civic authorities, as the sanctity of family and marriage are under attack from that source, too. And that prayer was followed by the most moving prayer time of the evening, as the sponsoring pastors and their colleagues gathered around our faithful clergy, and prayed in passion, in the power of the Holy Spirit, in thanksgiving for their faithful witness, and for their upholding, strengthening, and protection. "When God acts, people tend to notice," Bishop Murphy had told us in his sermon. During that time of prayer, those of us in the pews certainly noticed.

And so we move on, to continue into the rest of a February that we only know will be eventful. In a spiritual battle, as in any battle, it is hard to plan, hard to know what exactly to do, when events are unfolding in a way that changes the factors that give rise to a choice as soon as the choice is made. There are few things we in the pews can be sure of when we contemplate our options. But there are a few things we can be sure of.

In spite of knowing that the options at hand are subject change, disappearence, and increase in the weeks ahead, we know too that the tensions we are experiencing need not, and God being our helper will not, erode our faithfulness and unity of purpose, no matter how others choose to interpret that tension. We know that we are not alone, and that faithful Christians of all traditions stand with us, and have given us their hands in spiritual and temporal support. We know that even in this time of crisis, God is acting, for in His mercy, He has let us see it. And we know the difference, in the pews, between calls to "Give me your hand," and "Take my hand." Most importantly, we know that God always gives His Mighty Hand to those who stand firm in faith in His Only Son, our only Saviour, through the power and working of the Holy Spirit. In the pews, we have come to know enough to endure, and be His church.

Gerry Hunter is an active Anglican layman, who has served at the parish level as a warden, and participated in diocesan matters at the regional deanery level. He currently attends St. Simon's Anglican Church in North Vancouver, and is a board member of a local society which supports and promotes faithful Anglican Christian witness.

This essay was first published on VIRTUOSITY, http://www.orthodoxanglican.org/Virtuosity/
on 13 February 2002