Dialogue: Mr Prebble, Presbyterian is not a four-letter word

Presbyterian values have had a rough press lately. Enough, indeed, to make members of the flock see red, writes MARTIN BAKER*.

Last week I went outside with the white paint. I wanted to see if I could remove the offensive language from the noticeboard.

No, not the normal graffiti which gets splashed on any non-moving surface in the street but the offending word painted with pride and precision across the noticeboard's top.

"Presbyterian" is the foul word in question. It is hard enough to spell, of course, but when it passed between the pursed public service lips of Mark Prebble in his description of the stylistic differences between our "Presbyterian Government" and Christine Rankin's modus operandi, what could I think?

Enough is enough.

Prebble is right, of course. No good Presbyterian dresses like Christine Rankin. Not in my St Heliers church anyway. I look out on Sunday and I see a vision of Chanel there, a splash of Zambesi here but not a single throwback to Rankin's 1980s corporate power dressing.

Oh yes, there are one or two in their tweed suits and sensible shoes. But these are good tweed suits and well-made shoes that have carried their multilingual, university-educated wearers to the corners of the globe.

Like Hoover or Xerox, do we Presbyterians have to now contend with a name turned into an adjective describing some mundane and uninteresting, albeit essential, function?

Of course, when it comes to spending our tax dollars we want a Government that is sensible and ordered and, yes, perhaps even disinclined towards the spectacular.

But what about we who are left with the name? Is our identity forever consigned to the realm of those who buy clothes from the racks found in discount chain stores?

Or maybe the Presbyterian identity is like the tiny black-and-white television that someone once gave us which now perches on the fridge for catching the 6 pm news while we make dinner? It's old technology, but it's still adequate and functional and we can't quite bring ourselves to throw it out.

We've always had a fondness for knowing what other people think about us.

Sydney Morning Herald columnist Sally Loane wrote in the Herald of her affection for Kiwis after the All Blacks' loss to Australia and our agreement to take some of the Afghan refugees stranded off Christmas Island.

She said how much she liked our "dour Presbyterian toughness" and our pride and nationalism and how we have always punched above our weight.

That "P" word again. But this time somehow sounding sweeter and even more authoritative in an Australian twang. Could there be a didgeridoo sound of hope for those of us who still would claim the name of Presbyterian?

Let's go back to Prebble for a moment. In explaining what he meant by describing the Government as Presbyterian, he said "that the Government did not want to see flashy displays of commercial-type managerialism".

So maybe there is some wiggle-room for us who would still seek to take ownership of this Presbyterian identity. After all, our Westminster parliamentary democracy shares its structural origins with the Presbyterian Church.

There is a question of integrity here. Whom can we trust? Someone who wears a suit or a kaftan or a uniform or a clerical collar or an outfit taken from a 1982 series of Dynasty?

Are there organisations we can trust - even a church that identifies itself as Presbyterian?

The recent Catching the Knowledge Wave conference required the voice of a 17-year-old Gisborne schoolgirl to remind delegates of the relationship between knowledge value and knowledge values.

Kesaia Waigth told delegates that "the eyes of those in power need to look into the eyes of those in need".

The Presbyterian Church, with its Reformed Church sisters and brothers and its Puritan cousins, was born surfing one of Europe's most revolutionary knowledge waves. The Protestant Reformation, with its technological bedfellow, the printing press, helped form the bedrock upon which scientific method developed and ideas disseminated.

Such concerns, I was interested to read, were part of the founding documents, written more than 300 years ago, of my recent alma mater, Harvard University ... "one of the next things we longed for and looked after was to advance learning and to perpetuate it to posterity; dreading to leave an illiterate ministry to our churches, when our present ministers shall lie in the dust ... "

Those very Presbyterian concerns with literacy, education and access to learning have underpinned church missionary and settlement activity around the world. This missionary activity takes its most vibrant form in the cultural diversity we see among Presbyterian churches in Auckland.

Within the, yes, sensible and ordered structures of the Presbyterian Church come together Maori and Pakeha, Samoan, Cook Island and Niuean, Taiwanese, Chinese, Japanese and Korean. And, of course, Australians.

Through the discovery of another kind of knowledge, these diverse people find reason to join in prayer, worship and celebration. They also find reason to trust one another.

On a recent Sunday, there was a special service at the church. People were dressed up a little more than usual. A young woman came in. She was dressed in the sombre black of my old Scottish preaching gown. She walked up the aisle, and confidently sat close to the front.

Her black dress was a wonderful creation. The beautifully cut, understated dress was from one of New Zealand's most outstanding designers. If clothes could embody the ideals of an organisation, here was the Presbyterian Church.

Different textures and fabrics woven together. Confident, understated, clearly articulating a concern for detail, design, fabric and structure.

I've put the white paint away for now. I've decided to leave Presbyterian up there on the noticeboard for a while longer. After all, what's in a name?

* The Rev Martin Baker is the minister at St Heliers Presbyterian Church.