Book Review: Te Korowai O Te Rangimārie
This publication of papers from a St. John’s College hosted 2019 conference of the same title (“The Cloak of Peace” in translation) offers a succession to the published papers from a previous conference in 2017: Te Awa Rerenga Maha: Braided River (Auckland: Anglican Church in Aotearoa, New Zealand and Polynesia, 2018). This reviewer was a participant in the first conference with his paper published in the earlier volume but was not able to attend the second conference.
The continuity between the two volumes is the intention to reflect theologically on the character and action of the Anglican Church in Aotearoa, New Zealand and Polynesia (ACANZP) as a church on a unique ecclesiological journey: the only church in the history of the one, holy, apostolic and catholic church with a specific constitutional structure based on both Gospel and Treaty (that is, a treaty–the Treaty of Waitangi–between an imperial, colonizing power based in another land and a local, indigenous people), designed to share power and material resources between Treaty partners (Māori and Pākehā) and between a third partner (the Diocese of Polynesia, itself encompassing a mixture of nations with varying histories of the effects of imperial, colonial rule). The new constitution agreed to in 1992 is called Te Pouhere.
More simply put, in the book being reviewed, a relatively brief history (since 1992) of an ecclesial structure with unique features receives theological evaluation. There are nine papers from the conference (listed at the foot of this review) with an Introduction by Don Moffat. (A tenth paper by Moeawa Callaghan, “Biculturalism and Democratic Decision-Making,” has been published elsewhere.) Here I note briefly eight papers and then comment longer on one paper.
Ray Aldred–an invited international “voice” for the conference–explores the theme of “Bicultural Relationships” (1–26) from his own Canadian context. Key questions, in my view, raised here for ACANZP’s life together are those of how “repentance” and “healing” might occur in respect of the hurt of past injustice and poor relationships.
Rangi Nicholson, in “‘Walking into the future facing history:’ An Introduction to Bicultural Treaty Partnership in a Three Tikanga Anglican Church” (27–56), explores tensions in our own understanding of “biculturalism” and laments lack of sound historical knowledge of both the Treaty’s beginnings and subsequent Treaty debates. Remedial action is needed if ACANZP is to make a strong theological input into present and future national constitutional debates, especially with 2040 looming as a crunch date for evaluation of progress made (and not made) as a bicultural nation.
Don Moffat examines “Treaty, Partnership and Covenant Theology” (73–90), offers a review of the role of “covenant” in relation to the “partnership principle” enshrined in Te Pouhere in the light of contemporary scholarship. Noting that “covenants persist” (90), Moffat presses the church to honour the Treaty in an active manner which does not rely on the government to do all such work.
“A Commonwealth of Koinōnia: A New Testament Concept with which to Weave Te Korowai o te Rangimariē” (93–110) is Derek Tovey’s exploration of the theology of partnership (or koinōnia). Presented here is a multi-faceted New Testament understanding which includes the sharing of resources and the responsibilities of being citizens together in a new commonwealth (Philippians 3:20).
Karen Taylor also explores partnership in the New Testament via Matthean Parables, using a specific methodology called WisdomCafe, in “Partnership as Validating Voices: Reading Relational Faithfulness in Matthew’s Judgment Parables” (111–134). An important note here is that “programs” and “courses” which have been important for Pākehā culture may be blind in the context of partnership to Māori and Pasefika preference for “relationship, respectful dialogue and play” (133).
“Friendship, Aotearoa, and the Anglican Church” (137–165) is an advocacy by Anne-Marie Ellithorpe for a “practical theology of friendship to inform the practices and the social and theological imagination of the leadership and laity” of ACANZP (139), Ellithorpe’s key proposal is that we deepen what it means to be partners if we also become friends.
Eseta Mateiviti-Tulavu offers a different direction again in exploration of the significance of “partnership” in her paper, “Theologising Solesolevaki as a Form of Social Capital for Partnership in a Three Tikanga Church” (167–189). Solesolevaki is a Fijian concept in which people work together “for the benefit of the group rather than for monetary or individual gain” or, in other words, it is “a form of social capital” (169). This paper demonstrates how solesolevaki enables a better understanding of partnership for ACANZP by posing the challenge that partnership in this church is not only about doing things together but developing bonds of trust between one another through a variety of relationships, reflective of the communion of the Godhead itself.
The final paper in the book is Judith Bright and Colenso Eramiha’s “Te Puna Atuatanga/The John Kinder Theological Library, a Journey in Partnership” (191–206). Bright and Eramiha describe the journey of change and transition the former “Kinder Library at St. John’s Theological College undertook to become the John Kinder Theological Library Te Puna Atuatanga” (193). This is an excellent history of an important change in the resourcing of learning and research in the life of ACANZP.
The reviewer here proposes that the sharpest, edgiest evaluation of Three Tikanga life is the third paper by the Lyndon Drake, “Episcopal Fragmentation in Te Pouhere” (57–71). Every other paper published here offers ways to develop the extent of partnership in ACANZP. Only this paper proposes actual change to the structure of this partnership church.
Drake, if ACANZP agreed with his thesis, would deconstruct its current episcopal arrangements and construct new ones, based on ancient model of episcopacy. That is, instead of current arrangements which see up to three bishops have jurisdiction over a given territory (e.g. territory overseen by a Pākehā bishop, a Māori bishop and a Polynesian bishop, albeit with each jurisdiction focused on specific licensed individuals, congregations and property belonging to respective trust boards), there would be only one bishop per territory (pace the Nicene Canons).
To a degree this conception is already working in our church. The Bishop of the Diocese of Polynesia has sole jurisdiction in the territory of Polynesia. In my own diocese (Christchurch), my jurisdiction includes a Tongan congregation with a Tongan priest. Nevertheless, this is a big call on Drake’s part because it would mean that across all of Aotearoa New Zealand, Pākehā and Māori seeking to work out ministry and mission in cultural terms specific to their own culture could be under the jurisdiction of a bishop who is not of their culture. The point of the 1992 change of constitution was to avoid this situation.
The intention of Drake’s proposal is to avoid nullifying the Nicene canons. It is, of course, entirely plausible that the Nicene canons are a stronger form of holy writ (intentionally spelled without capitals) than the conciliar, contextualised deliberations of New Zealand Anglican General Synods through 1988 to 1992. But it is also plausible that the Nicene canons, agreed at a time and by a church council without understanding of future contexts for the church of God, should be understood as a voice, not the sole voice, in this debate. It is not the intention of this brief critique to settle this debate. It should continue but in its continuation those who believe Te Pouhere is the right constitution for this time in our history should be emboldened to subject the relevant Nicene canons to critical enquiry through the lens of Treaty as well as Gospel.
Peter Carrell is the Bishop of the Anglican Diocese of Christchurch.