A strand of flax is nothing in itself

Quite a few years ago now, Cliff [a fellow parishioner] and I and some others from the parish went to a diocesan bicultural training day at Rangiātea Church in Ōtaki.

Now I am going to confess I didn’t really want to go. I was a bit hōhā about it. And I only went because I felt I had to be there. This wasn’t because I had any antipathy or hostility to biculturalism. I just thought I already knew all I really needed to know about it. I also felt I had far better things that I could be doing on a lovely fine Saturday.

However, it did not take long for me to connect with what I was learning. Hearing Te Reo used in liturgy for the first time, in the beautiful setting of Rangiātea, was a moving experience for me, and I could immediately feel the power of the words. And I could feel how Te Reo could convey a spiritual dimension in a way that English did not seem to manage. We were taught to chant karakia, such as Te Inoi a te Ariki, the Lord’s Prayer, in Te Reo. The overwhelming sense of connection with the divine was indescribable.

I had gone to Rangiātea because I needed to have a box ticked off on my training schedule. I left with a genuine commitment to incorporating Te Reo into worship and liturgy.

Soon afterwards, I chanted the Lord’s Prayer in Te Reo, while I was leading intercessions here at St Mark’s, and it came as a complete surprise to most of the congregation. If we were not exclusively Pākehā, we were not far from it, and our median age would have been well into the seventies. The congregation had not been expecting anything like this. The second time I did it, it did not seem quite so unusual. And the third time, some people joined in with me.

We have just had three consecutive significant Sundays in our Church calendar: the Sunday after Ascension, the Day of Pentecost, and Trinity Sunday. So, it would be very easy to overlook the fact that today is also a very special Sunday for us.

Today is Te Pouhere Sunday, a very important date for the Anglican Church in this corner of the world. But it is a day that is not as well known as it ought to be. And I wouldn’t mind betting that when most people first hear of Te Pouhere Sunday, they automatically assume it is day to celebrate something related to Māori. But that would only be telling part of the story.

Te Pouhere is the name of the constitution of the Anglican Church in Aotearoa, New Zealand and Polynesia, so Te Pouhere Sunday simply means Constitution Sunday. It is a day set aside by General Synod to commemorate the adoption of a new constitution, written in both English and Te Reo, of what from thence forth would be called the Anglican Church in Aotearoa, New Zealand and Polynesia in 1992. This replaced our previous constitution, which had been in place since 1857, when we became an autonomous Province of the Anglican Communion. I was not a practising Anglican, or indeed a member of any church community in 1992, but I do remember the adoption our new constitution being quite newsworthy. If only because it created our three Tikanga Church.

In our usage, Tikanga is perhaps best translated as ‘cultural stream’. Tikanga Pākehā, Tikanga Māori, and Tikanga Pasefika are three strands of our Church, each of which is a full partner that is empowered to exercise mission and ministry in its own cultural context, while remaining firmly rooted in our Anglican traditions.

Having churches that cater specifically for people from particular cultures is neither new nor radical. It ensures everyone has a sacred space where they can worship within the context of their own culture, and in their own language, and not somebody else’s. The Church is the Body of Christ, and it encompasses many peoples, languages, and creeds, and one size does not fit all. There are Greek, Russian, Serbian and various other Orthodox Churches, and I attend a Russian Orthodox Church whenever I have the opportunity. There are Samoan Methodist Churches. Korean Presbyterian Churches. And there many other churches that mainly cater for specific cultures. But none of them follow the unique model of our Three Tikanga Church.

Each Tikanga has their own bishops and overlapping dioceses (or hui amorangi as they are called in Tikanga Māori). Each Tikanga is a full partner in the decision-making process of General Synod. And our Three Tikanga Church has been cited as a model that could be followed when it comes to fulfilling our partnership commitments in Te Tiriti o Waitangi / the Treaty of Waitangi.

A thoroughly unfortunate, inaccurate, and inappropriate criticism that has sometimes been levelled at our Three Tikanga Church is that it is a racially segregated way of doing Church that is somewhat akin to apartheid, or the Jim Crow laws of the American Deep South, but this could not be further from the truth. Under South Africa’s brutal apartheid regime, and during the days of enforced racial segregation in parts of the USA, people were forcibly kept apart on the basis of race. That is the exact opposite of what happens in our Three Tikanga Church.

This is especially topical at a time when there has been much misinformation and scaremongering about what is meant by co-governance. I am not going to go down that particular rabbit hole today, other than to point out that a lot of the fear of and opposition to co-governance derives from a lack of understanding of what it actually means, and fear being whipped up for nefarious reasons.

Race relations has always been a sensitive topic, but we do seem to have progressed. When I was a young child back in the early 1970s, every house in our street was known by the surname of the occupants, such as the ‘Smith House’ and the ‘Brown House’, etc. Except for one, which was simply referred to as the ‘Māori House’.

Racial slurs were openly used in conversation and if anybody was offended, nobody said anything. And the New Zealand Wars were still widely referred to as the ‘Māori Wars’. Fast forward to 1981, and I did not make myself very popular in rugby-mad Taranaki for participating in demonstrations against the Springbok Tour. I was narrowly missed by an egg hurled at me by someone who didn’t seem to understand how the plight of people suffering injustice could be more important than his enjoyment of a game. Completely coincidentally, the 100^th anniversary of the invasion of Parihaka, which I previously didn’t know anything about, was just a couple of months after the tour.

More recently we have had people in many countries, including Aotearoa New Zealand, to question the appropriateness of honouring people from the past, who may once have been seen as heroes, but who are now known to have perpetuated grave injustices against people of colour. And a backlash against streets and places being renamed as a consequence.

But I say our Three Tikanga Church models a way of breaking down barriers. Because it is about inclusion, not exclusion. Our Tikanga may be different expressions of Church for people from different cultures, but our Tikanga are not exclusive. Anyone is welcome to attend churches belonging to any of the Tikanga, regardless of their own cultural identity, and it is not unusual to see, for example Māori and Pacific people to worship in Tikanga Pākehā churches, like ours, or vice versa.

Sometimes, when I am not here on a Sunday morning, it is because I am at Rangiātea. I have always been very warmly welcomed there. Even before they go to know me. If you have not experienced worship any of our other Tikanga, I strongly encourage you to visit Rangiātea one Sunday. Just remember to come back here the following week.

I see each Tikanga as being like a strand of a rope. Each strand on its own only has limited strength, but when twisted together we have a strong rope, which will hold firmly, on which we can anchor our faith in Jesus the Christ. So, this Te Pouhere Sunday, let us celebrate the rich diversity of God’s creation, and that while in Christ there is no discrimination of gender, class, or race, we are all created in God’s image.

E kore e taea e te whenu kotahi ki te raranga i te whāriki kia mōhio tātou ki ā tātou.

A strand of flax is nothing in itself but woven together is strong and enduring.

Darryl Ward
11 June 2023