In the middle of all this the folksy Vice President Bob Russell says cynically about the President's strategy:
"You know what they call a leader with no followers? Just a guy taking a walk."
As is often the case with Sorkin's best lines, this dictum had been circulating for a long time before it came out of the mouth of a West Wing character. It has been attributed to a number of politicians and leadership gurus, but who knows? I suppose like many a true statement many people have phrased the same idea in different ways.
It had been gnawing away at me since the beginning of this year's 4 Corners Festival, when, more than ever it struck me how few Methodists, and particularly colleagues, attend our events even when they take place on Methodist premises (there have been so few I suspect I could count them from memory). We may be "friends of all and enemies of none" but it sadly serms that we're no more keen than people of other denominations (or none) to get out of our own wee corners to make new friends, never mind encounter new ideas.
Yes, ecumenical engagement, peace and reconciliation has always been a "minority sport" in Northern Ireland, and because not everything we do in the festival is dressed in traditional "church-clothing" perhaps people are wary of some of it. We also need to improve our messaging, to get into pulpits and pews earlier... but its not as if others didn't get the message. There were deficiencies with pre-festival communication with and via denominations, but some who knew long in advance about certain events didn't prioritise being there or encourage others to do so, and indeed, actually organised other events at the same time. It's a good job I'm not entirely paranoid.
But as Jim Deeds and I led 91 others around Belfast in the rain last Saturday on the Wonderful Wander, including a smattering of Methodists and a woman who had sailed single-handedly from the Isle of Man to join us (although that wasn't the sole reason), I reflected that this was many more than I usually lead in worship week by week these days. There is no doubt that, post-covid, fewer people are coming out to meet together for worship - but sadly even fewer are then leaving their congregational corners to engage at a circuit or connexional level, never mind in inter-church endeavours.
As a Methodist involved in such endeavours frankly, it can be disheartening (particularly in the post-adrenaline-rush crash immediately after the festival). But I've been there before. I've felt called in particular directions, only to find that I'm walking that way on my own, or at least with few fellow Methodists. So perhaps I'm simply not cut out for denominational "leadership" in the traditional sense. I've repeatedly found myself encouraged to take formal leadership roles, but they have rarely ended well (Why do I keep taking them on, you ask? A tickled ego trumping previous experience too often!)
But I am not walking this path on my own this time... At the beginning of this year's festival Julieann Moran shared some insights from her role heading up Ireland's responce to Pope Francis' "Synodal" pathway... literally an invitation to the members of the Catholic Communion to "walk with" one another, and others outside that communion, discerning together where the church is headed and where God is calling her to go.
I've been part of many Methodist "synods" over my years of ordained ministry, but few have felt like that. Generally they have been the embodiment of institutional stasis rather than having any sense of mutual listening and movement.
But for the past 10 years I have been part of a small informal dynamic "synod" and I have consistently felt, during that time I have felt that, at last, I am travelling with my tribe, even though at times they have driven me to distraction, and I have probably done the same to them. Its not a denominational clique, or a formal "ecumenical instrument" (a term I came across years ago that leaves me shuddering every time, and as such expresses my feeling about so much institutional ecumenism), but a denominationally and ideologically diverse group of creative and compassionate misfits, who are driven by a dream of a city, church and world that is more united, working together for the common good in the face of challenges that are too big and complex for individuals, communities and denominations to address on their own. Over the past 10 years, and more specifically over the past 10 days, they/we have curated a festival where many people have experienced new places, people ideas and most importantly, God.
I try to stop fretting about those who choose not to join the journey or be in the room (pick the appropriate metaphor). Yes, we constantly seek to invite others to join us and, make that room bigger and filled with a greater diversity of people. And those who were in the room this past week, in person or virtually, were blessed by some amazing singers and musicians from all sorts of traditions, some honest and courageous storytellers, some revealing and humorous conversations, some beautiful and/or heart-breaking images, some challenging and inspiring ideas, and a lot of tea and coffee (of varying quality) accompanying delicious (Presbyterian) traybakes (don't tell my doctor). Some of this can still be found on our 4 Corners Festival YouTube channel, but some was only there for those in the room, or walking with us at the time. It was a pleasure to share this week's journey with those who chose to join us.
And you're welcome to join us next year, not trailing in our wake as we forge ahead, but walking with us, and at times take the lead, guiding us into corners and aspects of this wonderful and wounded city that we have yet to explore.
Shalom
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