On Facebook, I have recently found myself defending the Anglican Covenant, which has will not return to the General Synod given that it has not carried the support of the majority of Diocesan Synods. Those who are into statistics will assert that more people actually voted for the Covenant than against it.  For many of my friends, supporting the Covenant would seem to be an odd thing to do. The reason for my defence is that I am passionately keen about supporting Christians, who live in difficult circumstances, in the Global South. I do not necessarily mean their bishops and archbishops, but the ordinary person.

I love belonging to the bigger picture. This stems, I think, from my earliest introduction to the Christian faith in the Methodist Chapel on Parkwood Springs and then at St James and St Christopher’s Church in Shiregreen. Both were situated on outer council estates. At the latter, I remember how supported we felt when we were visited by those from overseas. I do not know where they came from. The then bishop of Sheffield sent a number of black priests to be with us from other parts of the Anglican Communion. They came for 2 or 3 weeks at a time. These visitors nourished my young faith, if faith indeed it was, with their enthusiasm, compassion and smiles. Both estates would now be considered ‘white highlands’, where to be from an ethnic grouping other than White British would have been difficult. It was these visitors who gave me the courage to be friends with ‘Roy’ the only Black British boy in my school. I remember asking my parents whether I could bring Roy home to play. The reply was of course. Then I added, ‘we don’t mind that he is Black do we?’. It was over 30 years ago, so I imagine I did not use the word ‘black’. The visits from these Black priests enabled me to do this. The Anglican Communion, even though I did not know that was why they were with us, gave me this courage and I am indebted to it.

When I was just 18, I left the metropolitan city of Sheffield to seek my fortune in London. I actually spent two years working for £6 a week, plus bed, food et al on the London City Mission’s Voluntary Evangelism Scheme. It was there I discovered Evangelicals. I also again met Anglican Christians from other parts of the world. I was enriched by what they offered.

I was finally persuaded to go to University. Boys from my estate, or girls for that matter, did not go into HE. Newcastle-upon-Tyne beckoned. It was there I was introduced to a variety of Anglicanism. I am sure all Anglicans are guilty of thinking their own parish church is the epitome of what the Church of England is like. There I have done it used Anglicans and the Church of England in the same sentence. One of the problems is that most members of the Church of England do not see themselves as Anglicans; or Anglican can simply mean a member of the Church of England. The world may or may not have become smaller, but it certainly seems to be more insular.

After Newcastle, came London and doctoral research, spending time whenever I could at Tyndale House, Cambridge (www.tyndale.cam.ac.uk) which is the largest biblical studies library in the UK. It has an evangelical foundation. Even then, I suppose I just thought of evangelicals as what my local church had always done; rather than a particular tribe.

Teaching came, and then ordination training at Queen’s Birmingham (www.queens.ac.uk). I must admit that was quite a challenge. But a challenge because of an eclectic group of Anglicans, not to mention Methodists and the odd URC, were training together: Evangelicals, liberals, Anglo-Catholics. I could speak at length about what I thought about some of the training, but it is clear that one of the good things about the place was, and continues to be, that I was taught to rub along with others, regardless of theological backgrounds and/or personal conviction. During my time at Queen’s, I spent the summer in Volos, Greece at an Orthodox Theological Academy. I wrote an icon, after much dispute with the two monks who were leading the session about whether they could teach a heretic, who had let the sacking of Constantinople happen. I am responsible for a lot, but you know I did not realise my powers extended that far. Gradually over 6 weeks, Fr Antonios and I became great friends. Personal relationships break down many barriers.

It would be tremendously sad if Christians and other people of goodwill could not find it possible to be friends with those who differ from them.