The Church

[Disclaimer: This post was inspired by this article about the current discussions in the Sydney diocese of the Anglican Church. The older I have become, the more confident I have become in my 'liberalness' and what some would describe as a social justice gospel (I just call it the gospel). This has meant that I've struggled for many years with the tension of disagreeing with many of the teachings and practices of these congregations, yet knowing many wonderful people who consider themselves part of this group of believers. I struggle constantly with believing what I believe and relating to other followers of God with grace and love when we don't agree. So while the following words are inspired by the Sydney Diocese I want to acknowledge that we have all failed the church in some way or another. I mean this as no specific judgment or offense. I am simply a fellow traveler seeking to make sense of faith in the reality of our world. We must all take responsibility for how we, as a global Church, love each other and the world.]

We bank and barter and argue, just like any other company. We accumulate and justify, just like any other group. But I have a sneaking suspicion (no, I should be bold)... actually a firm belief, that the Christian church is not supposed to be like any other company or group.
I know it's unhealthy to make simple judgments about very complex issues. The hierarchies, structures and businesses we have created within, and surrounding, the church are complex and intricate. What started out, I only hope, with the best of intentions has too often become a web of corruption, greed and moral judgment that have tainted the message of hope, grace and love we have to offer.
We have become apathetic to the compromises we have made along the way. I believe we have lost sight of what it really means to be 'in the world, but not of it'; to be both peacemakers and revolutionaries; to be uncomfortable, but help others feel comfortable.
I struggle to make sense of a church leadership that can find themselves in deep financial trouble while still holding onto great wealth, whether that be property or capital. To me it seems something of this situation reminds me of Jesus in the temple; in anger and frustration, turning the table on the money-changers and sellers.
In our gatherings, such as the synod meeting, should we not be asking ourselves how God has called us to love in real and practical ways? Should we not be questioning where our wealth and overflowing prosperity comes from and where it needs to go? How can we as a church stand out from other organisations in the way we are structure and administrate? Should we not be willing to 'live simpler, so that others may simply live'?