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CONGREGATIONAL GRACE MARGINSRoss Kingham[1] In describing varieties of congregational cultures, US commentator Eric Law[2] talks of congregations having either ‘small grace margins’ surrounding the core membership, or ‘larger grace margins’. In Inclusion, Law seeks to “provide practical and theologically sound theories, models, and skills that are necessary for moving a faith community toward greater inclusion” (xi). This one sentence aptly summarizes Law’s aims and general approach to the topic in this volume. In developing this model, Law found himself framing his concepts and processes with new terms (xii). Key among these are “boundary challenge” (16-17), “boundary function” (17-21) and “grace margin” (43). Boundaries, as Law sees them, can operate either exclusively (19) or inclusively (43). The challenge to faith communities comes in making room for anyone perceived as an outsider. Law argues that this vital Christian challenge needs grace as the buffer zone between the community’s own fear and its need for safety. Churches with small grace margins could be described as having a clear covenant to which members are expected to adhere: it is therefore fairly easy to distinguish between those who are included in the church family, and those who are excluded. Churches which hold to rigid views concerning membership conditions tend to be those with small grace margins, whether they be towards to fundamentalist end of the theological spectrum on the one hand, or towards the more progressive on the other. Churches at both extremes of the spectrum may become legalistic leaving little room for the waverers, the uncertain ones, those whose faith flickers and falters in a manner that is markedly dissonant from the prevailing culture. Small grace margins have certain apparent advantages: they allow maximum room for control, for defining what is not acceptable to the ‘core’, as opposed to what is acceptable. They may be created in an attempt to fend off discomfort and compensate for lack of security. It would appear to be desirable to be a church that intentionally seeks to be extending its grace margin, on the basis that the gospel is indelibly imprinted with the offer of God’s grace. However, to intentionally seek to push the grace margins wider and to be more embracing of different people who are seekers and embracers of the faith, comes at a cost. To operate as a community of faith that is defined by its members being those who are drawn to the Centre which is the life-giving well of the Spirit, rather than those who fulfil prescribed conditions, is to comprise a community open to the deepest agony. Larger grace margins increase the probability of conflict and disunity. Larger grace margins require more grace! Any true community is an endangered species. John Murray observes: “The continuous possibility that hostility and enmity may break out between members of the community and destroy the fellowship is inseparable from any consciousness of it. For community is a matter of intention and is therefore problematical. Moreover the community so far achieved is imperfect. and contains not merely the possibility but also the evidence of failure.”[3] It may well be that Australian churches are scattered across a wide range in terms of their grace margins. Each community of faith has the capacity to gauge its own place on the spectrum; each as its own history, each has its own faith-journey. If a congregation seeks to move towards greater inclusion, it will need to be aware of its vulnerability as it treads this risky path, where inclusiveness will test the strongest fellowship, and offer the richest rewards.
The image of ‘core’ and ‘margin’ in relation to congregational life, moreover, is laced with complexity. Things are not as they seem. The gospels represent Jesus as viewing those who were at or near the edge of the circle of believers as in fact being at the centre (the ‘core’?), and vice versa.[5] A congregation that prays
and works to extend its grace margin would be noisy and chaotic. It would be
servant, not master. It would embrace all kinds of people and offer bread to any
uplifted hand. It would love the unlovable and learn from the weak. It would
listen to cries of pain and share God's outrage when one person imposes
suffering on another. It would be "radical," as Jesus was radical, namely,
getting to the root of things and not being swayed by the superficial. A church on the margins would be a circle of friends - a disorderly circle, and
an odd assortment of friends. It would be grounded in listening, not oratory; in
discovery, not catechism; in catching the tunes of human hearts, not arguing
over appropriate music. It would set aside all privilege, even the much-prized
prerogatives awarded to clergy. [1] Director, Barnabas Ministries. Barnabas Ministries is an Australian ecumenical agency specifically designed to respond to the particular needs of today’s church leaders and their spouses. The programs developed by Barnabas Ministries provide opportunities for people in ministry to find new directions and new beginnings in their lives. The programs are designed to complement existing pastoral systems by ministering alongside them. TEL:
(02) 6295 6766 [2] Eric H.F. Law, Inclusion: Making Room for Grace, St. Louis, MO: Chalice Press, 2000 [3] William A. Barry, S.J, Ph.D., ‘What Makes a Group a Community’, in Human Development. Vol.8, No.4, p.9 [4] Ross Kingham, Whispers, JBCE, Melbourne, 1994, p.136 [5] Matthew 21:31-32 |
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