27 September 2001
<typohead type=2>Presbyterian and Proud</typohead>
By Rev Martin Baker
Last week I went outside with the white paint. I wanted to see if I could remove the offensive language from the noticeboard. No, not the normal graffiti which gets splashed on any non moving surface down the street but the offending word painted with pride and precision across the noticeboard's top.
'Presbyterian' is the foul word in question. It is hard enough to spell of course, but when it passed between the pursed public service lips of Mark Prebble in his description of the stylistic differences between our 'Presbyterian Government' and Christine Rankin's modus operandi, what could I think? Enough is enough.
Prebble's right of course. No good Presbyterian dresses like Christine Rankin. Not in my St Heliers church anyway.. I look out on Sunday and I see a vision of Channel there, a splash of Zambesi here but not a single throwback to Rankin's 80's corporate power dressing to be found. Oh yes there are one or two in their tweed suits and the sensible shoes. But these are good tweed suits and well made shoes that have carried their multi-lingual University educated wearers to the corners of the globe.
Like Hoover or Xerox, do we Presbyterians have to now contend with a name turned into an adjective describing some mundane, and uninteresting, albeit essential function? Of course when it comes to spending our tax dollars we want a government that is sensible and ordered , and yes, perhaps even disinclined toward the spectacular. But what about we who are left with the name? Is our identity forever consigned to the realm of those who buy clothes from the racks found in discount chain stores?
Or maybe the Presbyterian identity is like the tiny black and white television that someone once gave us and now perches on top of the fridge for catching the 6 o'clock news while we make dinner? It's old technology, but it's still adequate and functional and we can't quite bring ourselves to throw it out.
We've always had a fondness for knowing what other people think about us. Sydney Morning Herald Columnist Sally Loane speaks in the New Zealand Herald with affection for Kiwis after the All Blacks loss to Australia and our agreement to take some of the Afghani refugees stranded off the Christmas Islands. She says how much she likes our 'dour Presbyterian toughness' and our pride and nationalism and how we have always punched above our weight. That 'P' word again. But this time somehow sounding sweeter and even more authoritative in an Australian twang. Could there be a digiree-doo sound of hope for those of us who still would claim the name of Presbyterian?
Let's go back to Mark Prebble for a moment. In explaining what he meant by describing the Government as 'Presbyterian' he said ' that the Government did not want to see flashy displays of commercial-type managerialism.' So maybe there is some wiggle room for us who would still seek to take ownership of this Presbyterian identity. After all our Westminster Parliamentary Democracy shares its structural origins with the Presbyterian Church.
There is a question of integrity here. Who can we trust? Someone who wears a suit or a caftan or a uniform or a clerical collar or an outfit taken from a 1982 series of Dynasty? Are there organisations we can trust - even a church that identifies itself as Presbyterian?
Our recent Catching the Knowledge Wave conference required the voice of a 17-year-old Gisborne schoolgirl to remind delegates of the relationship between knowledge value and knowledge values. Kesaia Waigth told delegates that "the eyes of those in power need to look into the eyes of those in need"
The Presbyterian Church, with its Reformed Church sisters and brothers and its Puritan cousins, was born surfing one of Europe's most revolutionary knowledge waves. The Protestant Reformation with its technological bedfellow, the printing press, helped form the bedrock upon which scientific method developed and ideas disseminated. Such concerns I was interested to read were part of the founding documents, written over 300 years ago, of my recent Alma Mater, Harvard University '...one of the next things we longed for and looked after was to advance learning and to perpetuate it to posterity; dreading to leave an illiterate ministry to our churches, when our present ministers shall lie in the dust'.
Those very Presbyterian concerns with literacy, education and access to learning have underpinned church missionary and settlement activity around the world. One of our own church's great missionaries was John Laughton. For years, early last Century he lived with the Tuhoe in the Urewera. He learned the language, befriended and argued with the Prophet Rua and taught his Pakeha contemporaries about the Ringatu church. Through his time, commitment and compassion he was instrumental in establishing a mutual trust and admiration between the Tuhoe and the Church, which continues today. Driven by a faith that recognised the mutual benefits of learning about one another , of sincerity, integrity kindness and compassion, Laugton embodied the best values of Presbyterianism.
This missionary activity of the Presbyterian Church takes its most vibrant form in the cultural diversity we see among Presbyterian churches here in Auckland. Within the, yes, sensible and ordered structures of the Presbyterian Church, come together Maori and Pakeha, Samoan, Cook Island and Niuean, Taiwanese, Chinese, Japanese and Korean. And of course Australians. Through the discovery of another kind of knowledge these diverse people find reason to join in prayer, worship and celebration. They also find reason to trust one another.
Last Sunday was a special service at church. People were dressed up a little more than usual. A young woman came in. She was dressed in the sombre black of my old Scottish preaching gown. She walked up the aisle. Confident sitting close to the front. Her black dress was a wonderful creation. The beautifully cut, understated dress was from one of New Zealand's most outstanding designers. If clothes could embody the ideals of an organisation here was the Presbyterian Church. Different textures and fabrics woven together. Confident, understated, clearly articulated a concern for detail, design, fabric and structure.
I've put the white paint away for now. I've decided to leave Presbyterian up there on the noticeboard for a while longer. After all, what's in a name?
Martin Baker is the minister at St Heliers Presbyterian Church