ANYONE who has a nodding acquaintance, or more, with church history will know the importance of vocabulary. Words and phrases have divided Churches, put lives at risk, or merely acted as an irritant. What, then, do we make of “resource church”? For some, the term conjures up the image of a stationery cupboard: A-boards and laminators and marker pens that other churches in the deanery might borrow. Others see them simply as cuckoo churches, fatly enjoying the worms fed to them from national funds while neighbouring churches continue to scrabble about for scraps. As our two-part investigation shows, the reality is more complex. Our report found examples of resourcing which go beyond the official definition — planting — although not perhaps to the extent that many parish clergy would wish. It is small wonder that such disparate experiences are sowing confusion, and undermining what ought to have been a welcome encouragement to parish outreach.

For the bigger picture, we need to look at the study of language set out in the Cranmer Hall report on “new things”. Again, the use of language is telling, particularly the avoidance of the term “church” for these new Christian gatherings. Advocates cite scripture: new wine requires new wineskins. Against a backdrop of numerical decline, there have been calls to rethink what the Church offers to the 98 per cent who do not attend. The Vision and Strategy set for the 2020s looks forward to “access to an enriching and compelling community of faith” for every person in England. It is a phrase that implies that the existing offering is somehow inaccessible. It is no surprise that “new things” appear to be rarer in those parts of the Church which question this understanding, and for whom traditional formularies are a treasure rather than a barrier. Congregations that are slower to adapt may now find a new cause for dwindling numbers: a church-plant near by that is luring people away. The Church Times survey uncovered a great deal of graciousness: several respondents expressed pleasure that people were finding somewhere congenial to worship. But we remain sympathetic to those who mourn the loss of congregation members in this process. It is too simplistic to ascribe such moves to their churches’ failure. The temporary lure of what is new and well-resourced should not be underestimated; nor should the attraction of the like-minded remain unquestioned.

And questions need to be asked about these new “things”, particularly whether what distinguishes them from “churches” is a lack of structural safeguards that protect against error and tie congregations into the universal Church. The Church Times covers too many examples of what happens when basic accountability is neglected in new initiatives (though, as this week has shown, older institutions can also be vulnerable). At present, it is difficult to see whether the variety and indefinability of many new initiatives is an encouraging sign of the Holy Spirit at work, or a symptom of the panicky floundering of a Church that has lost confidence in the “right good old way” that stretches back to Nicholas Ferrar and beyond.