Looking to Porto Alegre

The guiding light for the WCC's meeting in Porto Alegre is the assembly theme "God, in your grace, transform the world." I've been invited to ponder whatever I like and how I like about the theme and the assembly. I don't pretend to be able to do more than share some of my personal reflections, and questions, which will carry no more weight than your own. Whether or not they ring bells with you, I hope that even in disagreement they may help in some way to stimulate your own thinking.

A sermon

First of all I'd like to preach a sermon. The text is the last two chapters of the Acts of the Apostles, 27 and 28. But don't worry, this is an unusual sermon since it's much shorter than the text. Acts 27 and 28 is the account of how Paul was brought as a prisoner by sea to Rome. For the last two and a half years it's been running through my mind as a kind of parable of our ecumenical witness, from the time we warned against going to war on Iraq. Paul's ship is berthed at the island of Crete, and the military men and the merchants are eager to get on with the journey. "Paul advised them, saying, 'Sirs, I can see that the voyage will be with danger and much heavy loss, not only of the cargo and the ship, but also of our lives.' But the centurion paid more attention to the pilot and to the owner of the ship than to what Paul said." The word of the apostle was ignored by the military and the business world, and the ship set sail. Then the story goes on how, after an apparently favourable wind, there came shock and awe from an unexpected quarter and soon they were literally all at sea, lost in the storm, pounded by the waves, totally disoriented and eventually in despair. Yes, they should have listened to Paul. I like the next touch in the story, when Paul can't forbear to tell the centurion and sailors "I told you so"--even he couldn't resist the temptation to gloat a little. But he's more concerned to bring hope into that apparently hopeless situation. He can't pretend he's not in the same boat as those who made the mistake. He is. But now he's the one who points to another possibility of hope. And he does so not because he's an expert navigator, which he certainly isn't, but because he has a specific experience of the God of grace. He's been conscious of the angel of the Lord assuring him that while there will be shipwreck, they will come through. His message is "Take courage. Eat, keep up your strength. There is a grace that will see us through."

Recently, while in England, I was reminded again of this when I drove through the village of Olney, past the church where John Newton had been rector in the eighteenth century: John Newton who gave us the hymn "Amazing grace," and whose own life-changing experience from being captain of a slave ship to a disciple of Christ came during a night of peril in an Atlantic storm. It was an experience that echoes in a line of one of his other hymns: "With Christ in the vessel I smile at the storm."

It's the specific experience of the grace of the living Christ, present even in the storm, which sustains Paul and in turn enables him to strengthen others. The final drama comes as the ship is wrecked on an unknown island, but remarkably all those aboard reach shore safely. Then comes that beautiful moment, as the writer of Acts says: "After we had reached safety, we then learned that the island was called Malta. The natives showed us unusual kindness. Since it had begun to rain and was cold, they kindled a fire and welcomed all of us around it." Another moment of grace, in an unknown land, shown by people who were complete strangers. Grace: as so often, unexpected, not designed or planned for. Grace is always amazing.

I once heard the late, great Beyers Naude of South Africa towards the end of his life reflecting on his own long experience of prophetic resistance and struggle and the eventual end of apartheid. He said that the story of the end of apartheid had taught him that we need a more childlike faith in the possibilities of the coming of God's kingdom when we do not expect it. Like Paul in the ship, the witnesses to grace must go on believing in grace even when their message is not heeded, accompanying those who have lost their way, bringing hope in alternative possibilities and awaiting the time when grace will carry the day, perhaps in ways they themselves cannot even imagine.

Sermon ended! With this story as background I'd like now to share with you my own hopes for Porto Alegre and the inspirational possibilities of the theme "God, in your grace transform the world." I do so under three headings.

I. Celebration

At Porto Alegre I look for a real celebration of God's grace. I'm sure there will be much celebratory music, singing and dancing too. That will be great. But I hope I don't sound too basic or even naive, when I say that I look for a celebration of the grace that we have already received in Jesus Christ. "God, in your grace, transform the world." I'm sure that it is not the intention behind this theme to suggest that God's grace has yet to begin its transforming work, but sometimes our ecumenical rhetoric can give the impression that transforming grace is only what we hope for in a suffering and bleeding world. Of course, it is our hope and prayer, and meeting in the context of Latin America we shall hardly need reminding that the kingdoms of this world have yet to become the kingdom of our God and of his Christ, that the principalities and powers manifested in economic injustice and oppression have yet to be overthrown. We live in the tension between the "already" and the "not yet." What I am concerned about is that we do justice to the "already" in Jesus Christ.