by Wayne Brighton
Statistics tell stories. The National Church Life Survey and data from the Australian Bureau of Statistics (1991-2001) are frequently used to tell one of three types of stories about the Anglican Church.
The most common story is about its decline. It typically says that the Anglican Church was once a centre of community but is now an object of historical curiosity. The second story is about judgement and it typically blames or credits Bishops, theology, or music with the Church’s state of affairs. The third story is that Sydney is different from other Anglican dioceses.
While each has some merit, it is reasonable to ask just how different is Sydney?
The story of the Anglican Church of Australia could be interpreted as one like Jerusalem in the days of Jeremiah and Ezra. Our best days have become distant memories, our people are living in a far off land, the walls have collapsed and no strength is left.
Since 1991, Anglicans fell behind Roman Catholics and Pentecostals to be the third largest religious group in Australia. The total number of Anglicans dropped for the first time in our history (-3.1 per cent) and estimated weekly attendance also fell (-7 per cent). There were some 81 fewer parishes in 2001 and only 5 per cent of Anglicans participated weekly.
The Church also became greyer with nearly half of attenders over 60. Participation dropped in all age groups except those over 70. Attendance fell most prominently amongst those aged 20-49 (-22%) and under 20 (-13%), a fall that coincidentally occurred with the expansion of pentecostal and charismatic groups across Australia. At the time, conventional thought suggested that these people – young families with children – would return but they didn’t.
On any of these measures, Sydney looks different. It was one of only four dioceses where weekly attendance grew (11 per cent) along with Bunbury (four per cent), Armidale (two per cent) and Canberra & Goulburn (one per cent). It exceeded the population growth rate (nine per cent compared to 6.3 per cent between 1996 and 2001). The proportion of Anglicans in Sydney increased from 24 per cent to 29 per cent and the diocese had the same number of people aged 15-39 as all other dioceses combined. It seemed that the walls were rebuilt and the vision for the future was sharp.
But does this really make Sydney different? It’s important to remember that only 6 per cent of Sydney Anglicans were in church on any given Sunday in 2001. Although under 40s representation was high, diocesan growth was strongest amongst those under 15 (38 per cent of total growth) and over 70 (22 per cent of total growth). Clearly, youth and aged care strategies were working.
Growth was more modest amongst all other groups (between 5-7 per cent). The adoption of a generic format and contemporary worship may have insulated the diocese from losses experienced elsewhere. The only group where no increase occurred were those aged 30-39 as Generation X still appeared elusive.
Despite the commitment to evangelism, Sydney’s ability to reach those beyond the school, university and nursing home appeared limited. Even amongst those reached early in life, their representation was still a third less than the general population. The capacity to retain them as they move into new phases of life and different suburbs remains to be seen.
This begs the question of priorities. Should those easier to reach in schools and universities receive particular attention or how might competing interests be balanced without marginalising any particular group? Even the greyest church was young once.
Much of Sydney’s growth undoubtedly stems from decisions made during the 1980s. Going to where the people are resulted in inner city consolidation and the opening of new parishes in the western suburbs. More importantly, permission to rethink how we ‘do’ church followed. Whether other dioceses will follow a similar path is uncertain.
Sydney is different but not that different. It awoke sooner to the danger of decline but it faces the same risks and challenges. Living our mission as salt, light and leaven in Sydney may be constrained more by our unwillingness to think laterally and act flexibly than the scarcity of our resources. If we are truly intent on pursuing the people of Sydney like God pursues us then our Church cannot but become richly varied, so long as no one is pushed aside or forgotten.
Wayne Brighton is Research Officer for the General Synod of the Anglican Church of Australia.
