Essentials

Written by: Mark Simon

Interview with Ben Wong - Chinese Ministry Coordinator in the Anglican Diocese of Melbourne

Mark Simon speaks with Rev. Canon. Ben Lui Wong, Chinese Ministry Coordinator, Anglican Diocese of Melbourne, and Senior Minister, St. Timothy’s Bulleen and St Mark’s Templestowe Anglican Churches.

Mark: How did you become a Christian?

Ben: I was born in China, grew up in Hong Kong, then came to Melbourne for study. It was here I met Ivy, who later became my wife. She was a Christian, and in the early years of marriage, I just dropped her off at church but never went in. One day a woman specifically came to me and invited me in. During that first service I attended, a very strong voice came to my mind saying, ‘you will be like that person on the stage speaking to others.’ The minister encouraged me to get to know Jesus before taking steps to become a preacher! So I joined a course, and came to put my faith in Jesus, and 8 or 9 years later, I did become ‘that person’ proclaiming the gospel to others.

Mark: Have you always had a cross-cultural ministry, or did you grow into it?

Ben: When I first graduated from Bible College, I thought I would primarily use Cantonese and Mandarin, and reach native speakers of those languages in Melbourne. But when I became a Youth Minister in the Chinese congregation I needed to relate to Australian-born Chinese kids, who were using English as much as Chinese. So my vision widened. Now I am the minister of a multi-site church with English, Cantonese, and Mandarin services. If God had shown me that too early, I might have run away from it.

Mark: Do you think Chinese or other immigrants in Australia are more open to the gospel at the moment than Anglo-Australians? Why might that be?

Read more: Interview with Ben Wong

Written by: Mark Simon

Will the Anglican Church of Australia of the future be ethnically and culturally ‘Anglo-Australian,’ or will we increasingly reflect multi-ethnic and multicultural Australia? Many Anglican churches, reflecting on the changing demographics of their local communities, are seeking to reach culturally and linguistically diverse communities with the gospel. The biblical imperatives for multicultural and multi-ethnic ministry are many, including the Abrahamic Promise, the prophetic vision of all nations drawn to worship of Israel’s God, the Great Commission, Paul’s model of being all things to all people, and Revelation 7’s vision of a multi-ethnic, multilingual throng worshipping the lamb. Nevertheless, many churches struggle to know where to begin or how to overcome hindrances in ministry to culturally and linguistically diverse communities. This issue of Essentials draws together stories and reflection on such ministry. We hear from Ben Wong, Chinese Ministry Coordinator in the Anglican Diocese of Melbourne, sharing his own journey to faith and some reflections on fruitful ministry to people of Chinese heritage. We talk with three women leading and resourcing cross-cultural ministries including English language programs and migrant and refugee support services through Anglicare Sydney. Ben Clements, ministering in a suburban Melbourne church, delves into the benefits of fostering a multicultural church. Len Firth, Lecturer in Pastoral Supervision at Ridley College, brings a missional lens to bear on preaching Psalm 96. I review Changing Lanes, Crossing Cultures, which is a practical guide to ministry in culturally-diverse Australia. Other contributions include Guerin Tueno’s evaluation of the Fresh Expressions movement within Anglican churches; Peter Corney reflecting on Christians, Science and Vaccinations; and Stephen Hale reviewing God of All Things. I pray this edition of Essentials, my first since joining the editorial team, equips and encourages your own steps towards effective mission within the Australian context. MARK SIMON, EDITOR

Written by: Gavin Perkins

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Written by: Mike Bird

Evangelicals have traditionally been socially engaged, in faithfulness to biblical requirements to do justice and to show compassion for those suffering, and as a missional necessity, to demonstrate that we have good works to match our faith. A faith that is lived out, among and for others, is what it means to be a Christian. Evangelical faith is Christological in that Christ is proclaimed as Saviour and we do everything we can to save persons in body, mind, and soul and to bring into the warm embrace of Christ himself. This is why we do things like advocate for action on climate change, run Alpha courses, support refugees, have a Church Missionary Society, oppose the predatory gambling lobby, fund City Bible Forums, and have Anglican Overseas Aid. So, for us evangelicals, our evangelistic energy goes hand in hand with our social concerns, advocacy, and programs.

One problem is the temptation to focus on one or the other. To be an Alpha-Church or a tearfund church. To focus on the evangelistic side or to go all in on social action. A false dichotomy if you ask me, but the temptation is real for either side. But even for those of us who believe in a healthy balance, declaring the word of the gospel while donning the apron of a servant, even our social advocacy/actions face the temptation of being politically partisan.

For me, personally, my two social action passion projects are advocacy for destroying the gambling lobby and advocating for religious freedom. The former aligns neatly with the political left and the later sits more squarely with the political right. It means I get some curious glances from people.

My Tear Fund friends love my opposition to the gambling barons but look at me with confusion and disgust as if I might be a quasi-fascist if I retweet an Australian Christian Lobby article about religious freedom. By the same token, my Australian Christian Lobby friends incorporate my voice into the religious freedom debate but look at me with suspicion that I might be a Marxist sympathiser if I post on Facebook critical of the Liberal party’s stance on refugees and climate change.

I think most evangelicals are committed to a program of social action, and we each have our own pet causes, the one’s that burn our hearts with righteous rage or fill us with pity for those suffering. The temptation is that our interest in social action is exercised partly as an outworking of Christian faith, but partly as a way of aligning ourselves with particular political tribes. The temptation is then, that our social ethic becomes tied less to the Christian church and more to the political tribes that we resonate with. My thesis is that our social engagements, balanced with our promotion of the gospel, must never be neatly aligned with any political tribe, whether conservative or progressive. Otherwise we run the risk that our social action becomes more an act of political affiliation than Christian action.

We are compelled by the love of God to proclaim the gospel of salvation in Jesus Christ. And it is our Lord himself who tells us to care for the poor, to show mercy, and to act justly. Social action and social justice are a necessity. But let us not get fall into the temptation of engaging in the social action that is trendy on social media or presages our status in a political tribe.

Let justice roll down like a river, irrespective if those rivers break towards the left or to the right.

 

 

Michael Bird is Academic Dean and Lecturer in New Testament at Ridley

Written by: Peter Greenwood

Earlier this year I had the opportunity to ask a senior Melbourne evangelical leader a question. He had just spoken on the theme of church leadership and repentance, and I was curious. “What would you see as a characteristic sin of the Melbourne Church? His answer came quickly, and was not a particularly surprising one. Tribalism. As a whole, Melbourne Christians stick to their denominational and theological groups, and have little time for others. I came to Melbourne in 2010 to study for ministry at Ridley College. Since then I’ve heard the same diagnosis made countless times. Sometimes accompanied with other words to the effect that they would love things to be different, at other times with the unspoken sentiment that this is just the way it is and things won’t change.

Not once have I ever heard someone posit a solution. Of course ‘ecumenicalism’ - cross-denominational relationship - has always been a thing. There are pastors networks all over the city doing good work in encouraging each other and occasionally collaborating together. But I think it would be fair to say they are not making much dent in changing the tribalistic culture of Melbourne.

A few years ago I was at a conference hosted by City to City Australia. The speaker was Neil Powell, a pastor from Birmingham, UK. Ten years ago Birmingham had few healthy churches, and no culture of church planting. A random meeting between Powell and John James, pastor of a charismatic church just a short walk away from Powell’s church, led to a conversation about what would happen if dozens of churches across denomination and tribe began partnering together in a new way for the sake of the city. From that conversation came a church planting movement – 2020 Birmingham - and a book - Together for the City.

Powell’s story really captured my imagination, and got me thinking about my own context. I planted a church in the inner west of Melbourne in 2015, and I soon realised how under-resourced the western suburbs are when it comes to Gospel ministry. Churches are few and far between and there are some newer suburbs that do not have a church at all. Pastors I met were generally unaware of what other churches are doing to see the Gospel go out, and there is very little communication outside of denominations.

Inspired by Neil Powell, in late 2019 I decided to email every western pastor I knew and invite them to a meeting. Eighteen turned up, some of them people I didn’t know, from churches I didn’t know existed. That meeting sparked something we now call Together for the West - a movement of pastors, planters and leaders with a clear vision to see 20 new churches, 20 renewed churches and 1000 new Christians in the western suburbs by 2031. Currently we meet weekly to pray for revival in the west and look for ways to partner together for the sake of the Gospel. We deliberately put aside issues of secondary disagreement to build genuine friendships out of a commitment that so much will not happen, unless we do it together.

Tim Keller, founder of Redeemer Presbyterian Church and Co-Founder of Redeemer City to City, has said on numerous occasions that it takes a movement to reach a city. Movement is a buzzword at the moment, but in Keller’s definition no single church, network or denomination can be a movement. A movement of the Gospel happens when the churches of a city move from being in ignorance and competition to cooperation and collaboration. It’s when the Holy Spirit convicts us that, far more important than our differences, is what we share in common - the same God, the same Gospel, and the same Mission.

The church is the Body of Christ - made up of many members with essential gifts. This is true, not just of the universal Church, nor just of the local church, but also the church of a city. We count Presbyterians, CCCVAT, Churches of Christ, Australian Christian Churches, Gideons, AFES, Anglicans and FIEC as members of Together for the West, and each one adds something unique and wonderful to the movement. Yet we are not satisfied, we long to welcome members of all tribes who share our vision for the West.

Perhaps tribalism is not just the way things are. And perhaps the solution is not actually that complicated. It can start with a coffee, or with an email, or with a Zoom call. To quote Andrew Katay, CEO of City to City Australia, it starts with the dangerous question, “What won’t happen if we don’t do it together?” Then it continues with a determination to chase after a razor sharp vision of what God just might do if we do do it together.

 

 

Rev Peter Greenwood is the minister at Inner West Church, Melbourne

Written by: Jack Lindsay

Being an Anglo-Catholic in Australia.What does it mean, and why on earth do it?

‘Anglo-Catholic’. For many Australian Anglicans, there are perhaps only a handful of other words in the ‘ecclesial vocabulary’ so guaranteed to raise an eyebrow as this. For some, it has become a distinctly loaded term, conveying images of anything from liturgical fussiness to classist exclusivity, from doctrinal liberalism to papalist pretensions. For others, it may simply be synonymous with something perhaps peculiarly foreign, maybe even rather odd, and certainly ‘un-Anglican’. For a large part of my life, it was a blend of all these views that had shaped my perception of Anglo-Catholicism as, at best, rather confusing, and at worst, to be avoided. In this short piece, I intend to present something of an apology – albeit one based solely on personal experience – for that tradition in which I have now found my home, and perhaps explain a little of what drew a cradle Evangelical to the ‘other side’.

In preparing this article, I found myself reflecting on how I might define my childhood ecclesial or denominational identity. On the whole, I think it may be best described as ‘simply Protestant’. By this, I mean that my family – like so many others, in similar circles – was not especially concerned about whether the church we attended was Anglican, or Baptist, or Charismatic, or just broadly Reformed, so long as there was good Bible teaching, an engaging service, an active children’s and youth ministry, and a solid system of pastoral care. Beyond that, most other defining features of a given denomination were, to us, ancillary. This remained the case for me up until the later years of high school when, in the course of experimenting with a variety of church traditions in an attempt to develop my faith and life of discipleship as an increasingly independent young adult, I found myself one Sunday attending a well known Anglo-Catholic parish here in Melbourne.

This was, for the most part, my first real engagement with a tradition that was in some ways so familiar, and in others totally alien, to my childhood experience of Anglicanism. Yes, many of the same prayers were being said, and the broad outline of the liturgy was consistent with what I knew, but the service nonetheless stood out as strikingly and engrossingly unique, in comparison to anything I had seen before.

The first thing that struck me in it all was something I have sometimes referred to as a ‘sensory physicality’. By this, I mean that the worship into which one was drawn possessed a remarkable (and emotion-inducing) ability to take up one’s whole body into the experience of praise. From the dazzling sight of beautifully adorned vestments and frontals, bright candles and flowers, with the quiet dignity of ordered and calm movements, to the heady smell of incense and rosemary and oil, to the mesmerising sound of voices in harmony and a thundering organ, to the touch of wood and fabric and marble as we stood and sat and knelt, to the rich taste of the bread and wine from the altar; every sense was in some way involved in the act of worship. Perhaps more than anything else, it was this ‘sensory physicality’ that first drew me in, and sparked what began as a curiosity in, and has since developed into a deep love for, worship in the Anglo- Catholic tradition. And it is this word, ‘worship’, that is so important here. Because, for all the ceremonial and care taken in every aspect of the liturgy, it is all for naught if it does not first and foremost bring the people of God into a closer relationship with Him. If it exists for its own sake, and not for the sake of the gospel, then it is nothing. However, when done well, unselfconsciously, and ‘un-fussily’, I find myself most keenly and viscerally able to encounter the Lord, and (as the beloved hymn goes) be “lost in wonder, love, and praise”.

It could appear from all this, though, that Anglo-Catholicism is simply a ritualist movement, that it is only concerned with the liturgy. This is, of course, not true. Rather, if we take seriously that typically Anglican maxim, lex orandi, lex credendi, then we find that that which is expressed in the liturgy is nothing more and nothing less than a reflection of the theology which underpins it. Without the lex credendi, the lex orandi would be almost entirely immaterial. It is, therefore, from this ‘law of belief ’ – or, better, theology – that all our practices (should) spring. It is by this theology that they (should) be informed. And it is against this theology that they (should) be checked. Naturally then, all this begs the question: what exactly is distinctive about ‘Anglo-Catholic theology’? Is there even such a thing as a single, cohesive, ‘established’ theology of Anglo-Catholicism.

Well, perhaps slightly frustratingly, yes and no. The first thing to note is that, as I hope the reader will understand, I do not have nearly enough space in this short piece to give a full breakdown of the particulars of Anglo-Catholic theology. That would, and does, quite literally require tomes. And, even then, the author is presented with the decidedly fraught task of attempting to speak on behalf of the entire body of a particular tradition. And this problem is not unique to Anglo-Catholicism. As we will be well aware, one of the great blessings and curses of Anglicanism is its lack of a distinct confessional document, by which the distinctive theology of the denomination is clearly spelled out.

Yes, we all have the Prayer Book, and the Ordinal, and the Articles. But, if the past 450-odd years of Reformed Anglicanism have taught us anything, it is that these ‘base level’ unifiers still leave a great deal of scope for both individual and corporate variation. Accordingly, just as much as there does not exist a single, agreed-upon statement defining Evangelical Anglicanism (in anything more than broad, general fundamentals), neither does such a document exist for the Anglo-Catholics. Nonetheless, in the space remaining, I will seek to present a brief outline of those things which I understand to be characteristic, core elements of Anglo-Catholic theology.

First, and the distinctive feature from which most other beliefs flow, is a high doctrine of the Church. As Scripture tells us, the Church is both the Body of Christ on earth and His Bride. It is both that for which he died, and that into which he poured his Spirit at Pentecost. And, we are promised, it is that which waits expectantly for the blessed consummation of the Kingdom at the Day of Judgement. Further, as we affirm in the Nicene Creed, we believe the Church to be One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic. Accordingly, this great treasure given us by Christ, this Body by which His gospel is spread and into which we are baptised, must be preserved and safeguarded.

While, as Anglicans, this guardianship of the Church is expressed most manifestly by our bishops – those to whom we look as the focus of our unity and pastors in the faith – it nonetheless remains the responsibility of all the faithful to take their part in the ministry, mission, and care of the Church. And it is here that a core element of this high doctrine of the Church may be found. Principally, this concerns how one understands the phrase ‘the faithful’. In a commentary on the nature of change in the Church, on matters of doctrine and faith, the great 20th century Anglo-Catholic theologian Eric Mascall wrote: “the voices in the room are never enough.” This somewhat perplexing phrase actually goes to the heart of the Anglo-Catholic view of the Church. Namely that, as members in this mystical Body, we here on earth (the Church militant) are but a small part of the Church, and that in worship and mission we are mysteriously joined with all those who have gone before, and now form that great cloud of witnesses (the Church triumphant). We continue, together with them, as active members of the Church of God.

In an Anglo-Catholic context, we believe this mystical union across the ages to be most keenly displayed in the Eucharist, wherein we join our worship to that of heaven, and trust with confidence that our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving may be one with theirs. We believe that, as we partake of the Body and Blood of Christ in the Sacrament, we do so, and are joined into one Body, with the saints who have gone before. As such, Anglo-Catholicism has historically had a tendency to lean towards conservatism; in a nutshell, given this view of the Body of Christ as united through the ages, there has to be a pretty convincing argument in favour of changing the received wisdom and (tried and tested) practice of our forebears in the faith. This is, of course, not to say that change must be avoided! That would be totally antithetical to our Anglican principle of ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda secundum verbum Dei. Rather, it simply stresses that change (particularly on matters of doctrine and polity) must be done cautiously, prayerfully, and with appropriate discernment.

It is through this ‘lens’ of a high ecclesiology that the rest of characteristically Anglo-Catholic theology is, and must be, viewed. From the belief in the real presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, while not presuming to try to explain how this occurs, to our trust in the Holy Scriptures as the authoritative Word of God, to the grounding of church life in the sacramental system, to asking for the prayers of the saints (especially, the Blessed Virgin Mary), to a high view of episcopacy and the sacred priesthood within the threefold order; all these, while but a few of those views typically identified as ‘Anglo-Catholic’, arise ultimately from the high doctrine of the Church, discussed above.

At a personal level, it was precisely this particular ecclesiological outlook that turned my heart to this tradition. Yes, the ‘sensory physicality’ I mentioned earlier, and the intention to express liturgically something of the beauty of God’s holiness, are those things that first caught my attention and drew me in. But it is quite particularly this high ecclesiology that helped me sit most comfortably within this tradition. For me, the knowledge that my attempts to live as a disciple of Jesus (however faltering they may be), and the struggles I face in living out the Christian life, have not only been experienced by a numberless host before me, but that those same witnesses who dwell with the Lord pray for me to Him (and, I hope, cheer me on, every now and then), touches my heart so deeply and gives me more consolation than I can ever express.

I began my life as an Evangelical, and the Holy Scriptures were at the heart of everything. I have discovered that the embracing of the Eucharist as the central action of my life has taken me closer to Scriptures. For, of course, both flow from the same Word who was made flesh.

This is why I am an Anglo-Catholic.

 

 

Rev Jack Lindsay is an Assistant Curate at Christ Church Brunswick in Melbourne