Conference was very much a team effort. Many hours were put in by a significant number of people – some of whom we never saw, nor heard their names mentioned. Yet they were there, hard at work, composing, translating, checking liturgies; sourcing music, assembling musicians, singers and speakers; contacting, interviewing, being interviewed, recording, and editing; doing all the necessary administration, conscripting additional support staff, journaling, written recording, housekeeping, photographing, note taking; providing all the tech support, monitoring the delivery around the connexion, sorting out problems/glitches in a calm and graceful way; co-ordinating volunteers, assembling teams, inputting, leading workshops, facilitating discussion groups, reporting back. And more …

As the Conference process opened, there seemed to be a graced flow to it all.

The liturgies were prepared well in advance, and much was pre-recorded. This took out a huge amount of stress on the days for which they were programmed - rather than ‘psyching up’ for significant parts in our worship events, much of it was initiated on the day simply by the push of a button. And it was seamless – from the whakatau at the beginning through to the service of recognition at the end. Even I, who knew all this, looked on with a sense of wonder at how beautifully it all fitted together and flowed.

When it came to business, yes, we had some technical glitches. This was only to be expected – we’ve never been this way before. And we discovered some benefits beyond what we expected.

Rather than depriving us of contact and engagement, the technology offered us a sense of connectedness that we have often missed in the in-person conferences. If anything, it was Zoom’s chat capability which may have been the defining feature of this conference. It allowed even the most timid among us to be heard, in a way that was graced and largely risk-free. It allowed everyone to effectively engage, and gave Tara and I an unexpected opportunity to ‘read the room’ and understand what was going on. As is her wont, Tara picked up on this much more quickly than I did and we were gifted with a running commentary on how the Conference was unfolding.

Given some of the comments I’ve received, there is still much to be mined from this first online experience and, given the priority of Climate Justice and care for our planet, it may be pointing us in a new way of being together.

History tells us that pandemics have made a habit not only of disrupting life as it has been known, but also of offering new ways of being which effectively prevented us from going back to ‘how things were.’ My reading tells me that every pandemic has forever changed the way in which we live – from leaps forward in availability of medicines and healthcare (including giving rise to universal healthcare in Europe after WW1), to the ending of feudalism resulting in the rise of capitalism, to giving birth to such disciplines as epidemiology and virology, to reshaping the geopolitical landscape as nations have sought to adjust to changing economic circumstances.

We are now in the midst of a technological revolution unfolding at an unprecedented speed, accelerated by Covid, as we seek to adjust to life lived quite differently before 2020. We will not be returning to life as it was.

And in this, for us as Te Hāhi Weteriana, there is opportunity. As we rise to the challenge of the issues that confront us, some of which came through in our thematic discussions, we are invited to see how best we can ride the waves of the Spirit on which we now find ourselves. If nothing else, Conference has taught us that we can rise to the challenge and find a more abundant life in that response.

As we come into our bicentennial year, 2022 could represent a new beginning for us.