"Into the darkness of the Roman Empire the little church of Jesus Christ went forth as a star into the night." That lovely sentence by the historian Philip Schaff is as graphic a picture of the beginning of the Christian story as it is of the Church of Jesus Christ today.
The miracle of Christianity never ceases to amaze me. When you think that from those tiny and, oh so fragile beginnings of a family trapped so far from home, we have become the largest religious family of some 2 billion people, we can marvel at the strength of God's protecting hand.
It is this thought that keeps me going when I see our Anglican family in some of its most vulnerable manifestations. The darkness is there so tangibly in those places in our Communion where our brothers and sisters are caught up in civil war, trapped in dire poverty or marooned far from home as refugees. Yes, these are some of the images I have of the Anglican Communion I serve and love. This year took me to Mozambique where Eileen and I were guests of Bishop Dinis Sengulane and Bishop Paulino Manhique. Mozambique is one of the poorest countries in the world. Strongly Roman Catholic, one might wonder how and why Anglicanism survives there. It more than survives; its practical and outgoing faith is an inspiration for all, and Bishop Dinis' contribution to peace in Mozambique is well known. Through such programmes as "Turning Swords Into Ploughshares", the Church lives peace and attempts to bring the light of Christ into the darkness of our world.
Prior to going to Mozambique I was a guest of the Province in Cape Town, and had the joy to preach at Archbishop Desmond Tutu's farewell service. What a wonderful occasion that was, and what a marvellous service of thanksgiving (tinged with sadness), as we paid tribute to a man of peace; a man whose smile, laughter, and tough unflinching opposition to apartheid made him, like his Lord, a light in the darkness.
It is because so many of our brothers and sisters suffer in the darkness that we need a strong Anglican Communion. In October this year, ACC-10 assembled in Panama, another part of the world where Anglicanism has taken root and become a strong, though small, diocese. There as representatives of each of our 36 member Churches, we heard the story of the Communion. From the suffering of Sudan; through the eyes of the very poor in India and Pakistan; through the tears of Rwanda; through the testimony of those who find it a daily problem to be faithful in places as they breath the spirit of the early Church. And yet ACC-10 heard another story. A story of an unwillingness of some Provinces to pay their full share of the costs of maintaining this family of Churches. What a humbling example it was when the representatives of the suffering Church of Sudan not only paid their quota in full, but also gave $100 to the UN Office in New York to continue the vital ministry of Bishop Jim Ottley! My brothers and sisters, I leave you to draw out the challenge of that wonderful testimony from Sudan. If they need our help so much and yet from their slender resources year after year pay their quota, how can any Provinces say "we're sorry. We can't support the Communion this year because we must balance our books first.'
I can hear some say "That doesn't sound like a Christmas message from the Archbishop!" No, it isn't, if the balancing of our books takes precedence over the message of Christmas - that God is love and calls from us an answering love for him and for each other.
The Christmas story tells us that the darkness will only be overcome when we light up the sky with Christian living which puts others first.
May God bless us all and through each one of us may our Communion grow stronger.
+George Cantuar (signed)