Element 9

Element 9: Unity and Community

As we study the history of the Celtic church we discover the unity we once had as one Christian people within the one universal church. We are constantly ashamed of our divisions, and we repent of the schisms that have occurred from the Reformation onwards. We look upon all fellow Christians not as "strangers but pilgrims together," and we honor those in oversight in all denominations. We resist all gossip and destructive talk about our own denomination or others. We resist in our own lives things that damage the unity of Christ's body, and will not do separately what is best done together.

The Celtic church was thoroughly indigenous to the people in a way that the church has never been since. Aidan lived alongside the people and refused to accept practices and customs that would distance him from the people and make him seem superior. The Celtic church honored, trusted and went with the grain of the human communities it worked among. We seek to cultivate a solidarity with all people in everything except sin, to value all that is truly human in them, and to shed attitudes and practices that put up barriers between the church and the people. We desire the healing of peoples divided by class, color or creed and repent of our own part in these divisions.

The element of Unity and Community calls members of the Order of St. Aidan to swim against the tide of division and fragmentation in the Body of Christ. They are called to identify and bless the heart of local community. These foci have their own hazards beyond being an enormous challenge.

For most of the 20^th century talk of Christian unity generally meant the reunion of the fragmented denominations of Christendom. While this may be a laudable goal, such unity is neither the Scriptural definition of unity, nor the goal of this element of the Aidan Way. We seek not so much unity between institutional Christian structures as we do unity among Christians. The first hazard we face along this way is believing that the focus on the local and personal somehow trivializes this initiative. It is at the local level that even institutional unity must be lived out if it is to have any meaning.

We are constantly ashamed of our divisions, and we repent of the schisms that have occurred from the Reformation onwards.

Of course, the Body of Christ suffered divisions long before the Reformation. These divisions were both institutional (as in the split between Rome and Constantinople in the 11^th century) and local (as in the factionalism that Paul rebukes in I Corinthians 1). It is the factionalism within churches and between churches that we are called to address. In so doing we can be catalysts in creating an environment that extends unity to the Body of Christ in our communities. Addressing such division begins with the act of repentance. Repentance in this situation calls for three steps. First, we need to acknowledge that factionalism and division are indeed sinful. It is a violation of Jesus' prayer for oneness (John 17), a violation of the calls for unity within the Body witnessed throughout the New Testament. Second, we must own our role in keeping factions and divisions alive. Third, repentance calls for action, not just a specific action, but a new way of living.

We look upon all fellow Christians not as "strangers but pilgrims together," and we honor those in oversight in all denominations. We resist all gossip and destructive talk about our own denomination or others. We resist in our own lives things that damage the unity of Christ's body, and will not do separately what is best done together.

There is a history of mistrust among Christians who live by different emphases. Richard Foster, author of Celebrationof Discipline identifies six streams present in the life of the Church: contemplative, charismatic, evangelical, holiness, sacramental and social justice. These streams are found in various mixtures in the lives of Christians. But a suspicion of streams in which we do not participate is a common feature of our lives. The Aidan Way calls for us to honor all of these streams and seek to weave them into a whole fabric in our lives. A first step to such weaving is to honor the streams as we see them in the lives of others, and not expect from any an affirmation of our own as a prerequisite to such honor.

Beyond spiritual and theological distinctions come the power games played in congregations and denominations. The causes are numerous, the history is deep-rooted and those in leadership are often no more than pawns in the game. The actual process of healing our Christian communities is a matter of research and prayer, but we are still able to model a new way of living in unhealed communities. Here the discipline we seek is to use our tongues for blessing and for speaking the truth only in love.

The last sentence of this section is a challenge to all communities, including the St. Aidan Trust. We are only one of many ministries that have formed in recent years. The Order of St. Aidan is but one of several fellowships available. We must not only work cooperatively with other ministries, we are called by this element to bless, encourage and help them prosper. What is true of us is true of cell groups, fellowships and local churches.

The solidarity called for here seems at first to be the problem rather than the solution. We often complain that the church seems indistinguishable from the world around it. Yet in certain matters, we still maintain a distinction that is often unhelpful. The language of church culture is spoken only by the ever decreasing population that has been raised in it. Whether we use the jargon of evangelicals, charismatics or catholics, our speech can create unneeded confusion. Our customs present a similar problem. Examine most of the signs which churches post for the public view. In many cases they use phrases or jargon which is unintelligible to non-religious people. It often appears as if, rather than seeking out the lost, the churches squabble over the loyalty of the churched.

If we are to be in solidarity with our communities, we must leave the comfortable walls of our religion and reenter our local communities to listen to their heart. The world has thus far steadfastly refused to beat a path to our doors. Perhaps it is because we are sometimes viewed as strangers. St. Chad refused to ride a horse in his diocese of Lichfield because horses were for the nobility, separating him from the very people he was called to serve. True, after the Archbishop of Canterbury physically lifted him onto the beast, he consented to use that mode of transportation. However, it does seem likely that whatever might have been gained by efficiency of transport and public prestige was lost by decreased pastoral effectiveness.

Members of the Order of St. Aidan are called to examine their lives for practices which separate or perpetuate separation and step out of the comfort zone of the church back into the lives of their communities.