BWA Congress 2025: Reflections

Edited from Luke’s sermon on 19th July 2025, entitled: “God’s Church for All”

In case you weren’t aware, Australia is really, really far away. My total journey time—including layovers—was around thirty-six hours. Somehow, I even lost a day in transit thanks to time zones. It’s humbling to consider that despite modern technological advances seemingly shrinking the world, the other side of the planet remains distant and challenging to reach.

Australia also has some incredible wildlife. If you’ve ever been there—or to New Zealand—you’ll know their tight biosecurity regulations exist to protect diverse ecosystems. Alongside the creatures you might be familiar with (thankfully no huntsman spiders crossed my path), there are also some frankly ridiculous birds. In Brisbane, the streets were alive with birds I’d never seen before—one looked remarkably like a small turkey. The tropical trees echoed with their calls even in the heart of the city, and the climate nurtures a kind of richness we don’t often experience in Nova Scotia.

This was my first time in Australia, and while in many ways it felt familiar—colonial settlement leading to English becoming the dominant language, driving on the left as in the UK, and Vegemite being VERY similar to Marmite—there were also moments when the landscape, language, and customs felt deeply unfamiliar. For instance, tipping for good service is surprisingly difficult. I also spent the first few coffee shop visits looking for a tray to return dirty dishes—a habit, it turns out, I’ve picked up in Canada, not the UK.

There were, of course, similar moments of both familiarity and discomfort during the Baptist World Alliance Congress. The BWA has been gathering in this way—albeit digitally during the pandemic—since its founding in 1905. Every five years, self-professing Baptists from across the globe meet in a location chosen by the hosting region. In 2030, the Congress will be hosted in Europe, with the specific location yet to be revealed.

So, let’s begin with the positives. The trip gave us the opportunity to further build the global network of Baptists that First Baptist Church Halifax has helped nurture—through Rusty’s contributions and the formation of a working group exploring global justice initiatives. I was able to reconnect with colleagues from the US, UK, Europe, Australia, and New Zealand—many of whom I’d only met online. We shared stories, prayed together, and spent time discerning how God may be moving among us. We also made new connections through gatherings organised during Congress and later in Sydney, hosted by new friends at St Ives Baptist. This alone made the journey worthwhile: real connections with real people, sharing in the dream of a church with open doors and pews filled with people from all walks of life, resting and seeking God together.

Sadly, not everything was positive. There was little space for diverse expressions of Baptist spirituality or identity. Corporate worship was dominated by Hillsong-style praise bands, flashing lights, and preachers who used many words, but—if I’m honest—said very little. There were exceptions, such as the few women who were invited to speak, but I regret to say I don’t recall anything substantial from the sermons.

By the final night, my patience had likely worn thin. When the speaker boldly declared to the 2,500 attendees that in the US “children are being asked their pronouns before they can speak,” I had to walk out. First, because the idea that acknowledging someone’s gender identity is somehow alarming is deeply troubling. And second, the assertion that anyone would ask a child that before they’ve spoken their first word is simply absurd. If I were being generous, I’d say the speaker misspoke or misunderstood. But more likely, he chose a convenient scapegoat—demonising a vulnerable group to provoke moral outrage.

Let’s be clear: this is not the way of Jesus.

This is not the way of the God who created the richness of creation—from the shores of Nova Scotia to those wacky birds in Queensland and New South Wales; from those who find love in a partner of the same gender to those who find love outside the binary.

The way of Jesus is, I believe, the way FBCH has committed to: journeying together toward an open door and an open table. We may make mistakes along the way, but we do so with humble hearts. I am deeply grateful for communities like FBCH, which show there is a different way to be Baptist—a different way to follow Christ.

While this recent trip reminded me that some of our Baptist siblings would rather we weren’t part of the family, it also made clear that there are many with whom we are building strong and hopeful connections—a global network we can learn from and contribute to. This is an exciting chapter we are entering together, and we can be both grateful and hopeful for the journey ahead.