In the hustle and bustle of everyday parlance and argumentation, one tends to forget that at the basis of every issue that is raised in the political, cultural, economic or any other sphere of society there is probably a philosophical perspective even though debaters are not consciously aware of it.

Something similar applies for debates and discussions within and about the Church. Without fail, a theological perspective buttresses each debate. Arguments about what the Church should do or not do internally or externally are based on the type of ecclesiology or model of the Church that one operates from. Such models would reflect the theological or catechetical formation that one would have had as well as one’s involvement in the life of the Church.

The arguments brought forward during the recent debate about the leadership situation in our Archdiocese following my commentary in The Sunday Times of Malta (August 17) reveal different models of the Church in operation. The same could be said for the reaction or, better still, the lack of reaction to the radical proposals I made in the same commentary about parish feasts (organisers should give as charity the amount spent on feasts); the creative celebration of Sunday Mass; the turning of parish budgets from accounting into a pastoral instrument reflecting the true nature of the Church and a concrete proposal for the change in the leadership style that should be adopted in parishes.

The exclusive emphasis on the leadership issue to the exclusion of the rest could indicate that the pyramidal model of the Church is still very important.

On the other hand, those who described my proposals as just a change in management style showed that their concept of the Church is purely organisational. They did not grasp the evident fact that those proposals emanate from a concept of the Church that goes beyond the organisational.

In my writings, in fact, I have often criticised the use of the ‘club’ metaphor to describe the Church. For fairness sake, let me – even at the risk of some repetition with the content of previous commentaries, and the greater risk of misunderstanding since this is just a draft work in progress and not a polished essay about the Church – propose the ecclesiology that inspires me by the use of four different metaphors: rainbow, river, pilgrim and Areopagus.

I believe in a Church which is like a rainbow.

The rainbow is one of the beautiful manifestations of Mother Nature. The Church is a beautiful manifestation of a loving God. The rainbow is made up of different colours perfectly synergised to­gether to form the colour white. The rainbow celebrates the praises of unity in diversity. It is similar to a garden whose myriad flowers – and perhaps a few thorns and nettles – form a beautiful carpet. The Church should similarly laud diversity as this is its strength, contrary to rigid uniformity which would lead to its downfall.

The existence of sin quite naturally does not let us enjoy – at least on this side of eternity – the perfect synergy shown by the rainbow. This diversity can lead to tensions; but, on the other hand, one should remember that only living organisms pass through tension. It is better to have a place for discordant voices than to silence them.

The history of theological development has shown us that the discordant voices of one age become the hallowed common language of another. Those marginalised in one era became the champions and the saints of later eras. Some suspected of dubious teachings ended up proclaimed as prophets.

I believe in a Church which is like a river.

Cardinal John Henry Newman I believe, once compared the Church to a river which provides a welcome home both to the tiny lamb playfully quenching its thirst in shallow waters and to the mighty elephant swimming in its depths. It is the place where the best theologian can break bread with someone who hardly knows how to make the sign of the cross.

The Church is not the home of a holy elite. It is not an exclusive club. Christ shed his blood for all humanity, not for a chosen few. It is the river where a great saint like Mother Teresa and a poor sinner like me can quench their existential thirst by drinking the water that gives true life. Its sacraments are there to heal us, not to discipline us.

A beautiful characteristic of the river is that its waters are always new. You are never washed by the same water twice. This constant renewal and change should be another strong point of a Church that preaches the love of Christ, who is always new. A Church that fears renewal to meet new situations will have the same destiny as a river that stops flowing: it dies.

I believe in a Church which is like a pilgrim.

Christ shed his blood for all humanity, not for a chosen few

I do not believe in a militant or triumphalist Church. Neither do I believe in the Church of yesteryear which proclaimed itself to be a perfect society, a term no longer used but a mentality that lingers on. Pilgrims are in constant search, toiling forward in rain or shine. They sometimes are lured away from their path with the temptations that present themselves along the way, but painstakingly return back, wounded but, once more, safe. They experience joy and disappointment. Sometimes they are hurt and need healing, sometimes they provide healing. Pilgrims are united by a common purpose which morphs into a common love.

The Church, the People of God, is such a pilgrim people.

I believe in a Church which lives in an Areopagus.

I don’t believe in a fortress Church but in a Church that dialogues with so many others in the common Areopagus of humanity, just as Paul dialogued in the Athenian Areopagus so many centuries ago. In this Areopagus the Church asks for no privilege except one: to serve humanity. The Church offers Christ as the way of salvation. But this Church also believes that Christ also works outside its organisational structures.

The Church I believe in is conscious that there is salvation outside of its structure as one also finds goodness, holiness and charity there. We believe that our value system is the best one; otherwise we would not adopt it.

However, we are terribly mistaken whenever we think that ‘the others’ do not have values. They have different values from others and it is our task to listen and learn from them as well. It is our task to dialogue, not to judge and condemn; to learn and to teach.

Most of all, this is a Church that loves in season and out of season.

P.S. Can we debate the model that should be adopted by the Church in Malta with the same verve that the leadership issue was debated?

joseph.borg@um.edu.mt