Glynn Cardy: Blessed are the meek, not the self-glorifiers

Brian Tamaki, self-proclaimed bishop of the Destiny Church, now has 700 men sworn to loyalty and obedience.

At their recent conference these men pledged to "submit to God's chosen [Brian]", "to guard and protect him", to "always speak of him in a favourable and positive light", and to never openly disagree with him. In church the oath-takers are encouraged to sit as close to the front as possible and encourage him by clapping and saying "Amen".

They are not to tolerate anyone speaking critically of him. At times they are to give gifts to him out of love and respect, thereby earning spiritual rewards. Bishop Brian is for them "the tangible expression of the presence of God", elevated above mortal criticism.

It sounds incredible that in our day and age with analytical education the norm, such anachronistic thinking should not only exist but be publicly celebrated by Destiny's thousands of adherents. As the news of this oath broke in Auckland the reaction was mixed. Many laughed.

The cartoonists had fresh material. Around town the jokes flowed thick and fast. Many, too, were shocked that an adoration cult in the guise of religion should manifest itself here in secular ol' NZ. A religion, no matter what good deeds it might do, whose leader demands unquestioning obeisance and a male phalanx, is a throwback to spiritual feudalism.

Such a religion is also a concern to the mental health workers and mainstream religions' ministers who in time have to deal with disillusioned former followers.

Yet before we continue to verbally lambast Bishop Brian, those of us with a stake in institutional Christianity would do well to pause. At ordination Anglicans and Catholics take an oath of obedience to their bishop, although most interpret that liberally.

It wasn't so long ago in Anglicanism that all the ordained were men. At most major church services, seated close to the bishop, were these robed men. They might not have been clapping and saying "Amen" but the supportive effect was not dissimilar.

The titles that still waft around the church like "Most Reverend", "Very Reverend", "Venerable", "Your Eminence", "Your Holiness", etcetera, all serve to spiritually elevate the leader above other Christians and lead many to be reverential and hesitant to speak critically.

In church history it is not unknown that priests and laity were protective of their bishops, gave gifts, and were expected to be loyal to his "office" even if privately critical of his "person". Some of these practices continue. And, of course, "infallibility" has not yet been wholly relegated to the dustbin of history.

Nelson Mandela once said, "To be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others."

Good leadership is that which enhances the freedom of others. It is mindful of the temptations and negative impact of power, and seeks to continually keep open the means of critical appraisal.

Leaders who see robust criticism as destructive are dangerous. Leaders who encourage deference can become deluded about their own importance.

No leader is indispensable. If their organisation crumbles in their absence the foundations were never well laid.

For many decades now many mainline ministers have seen themselves as fallible guides, trying to enable others, sharing pain, hope and trust, and together with their parishioners seeking God.

The Christian churches have tried to flatten out their structures, emphasising teamwork and mutual accountability. God hasn't been delivered from the top down, like a head office directive, but discovered by ordinary people in the muddle of their ordinary lives. Some churches have been more successful in this than others.

Bishop Brian and his band are building up what most of the rest of Western Christianity has been trying to pull down. He's trying to elevate his God by elevating himself.

It's been tried many times before, and it doesn't work. It creates a dependency that stunts spiritual growth. Those of the Catholic and Protestant traditions know these things because they have been repeated time and again in our own history. The self-promotion and self-glorification of a gifted leader has little to do with a man from Nazareth who once said, "Blessed are the meek."

* Glynn Cardy is vicar of St Matthew-in-the-City in Auckland.