Order! Order!
Q: When’s a party, not a party? A: When it’s at your house. It’s one of my favourite quips from the outrageously sweary political ‘fly on the wall’ comedy, The Thick of It. (NOT for the faint hearted or easily offended)
But I had one of those moments. Someone, forthright and unfiltered, launched into a fairly dismissive critique of the work of the local mission community - casually dropped into conversation as if they were commenting on the weather.
I wasn’t offended. Just… confused.
Ecumenism at this level doesn’t suit everyone. I understand that. In fact, perhaps that’s part of the reason it needs a name. If it came naturally, it would simply be church, or worship, or our faith—something we didn’t need to label. But still, there’s a time and a place for expressing concerns. For asking questions, for being heard. This wasn’t it. And in truth, it wasn’t healthy or helpful.
I felt oddly fine myself—thick-skinned, maybe—but aware that others might have felt second-hand discomfort. That quiet sort of embarrassment people feel for someone else’s sake. Strange sensation, really.
What stayed with me was how far the view expressed seemed from what I felt to be true. And that’s what made it a little more than just an awkward moment. There was a visiting vicar present—someone I’ve met a few times before. I might drop her a line, just to offer a different, more hopeful account of good work in mission community. Not to rebut or challenge, but to share a fuller picture. A small rebalancing, perhaps.
It was also a lovely party.
