By Adrian Pyle
Most people have never specifically heard of a set of “Uniting Church characteristics”. And yet they can quietly shift the way schools, boards and communities work.
Why they matter more than we sometimes realise:
Small shifts in culture can bring positive disruption and reimagination.
These characteristics weren’t born in a branding session. A version of them was first drafted by an eminent Uniting Church in Australia (UCA) theologian for the Church’s 40th anniversary, trying to capture—in plain, earthy language—what has defined and sustained the UCA over decades.
In 2018, those of us working with Uniting Church–associated schools went looking for something similar: a set of ideas that could speak across a wildly diverse group of schools. In our place – far southern New South Wales, Victoria and Tasmania – each school is legally independent but connected through the Synod—the regional expression of the Church—and we needed language that might make sense whether you were a principal, a parent or a Year 7 student.
Each characteristic carries the weight of years of proposals, debates and hard decisions. They weren’t written overnight. And they don’t dictate to schools; they invite schools to notice the patterns in their own story that resonate with the Church’s. In that sense, the characteristics keep growing organically – taking on new life as they emerge in each unique context.
They also don’t work in isolation: their depth is amplified by the way they interact, one strengthening and sharpening another.
In a tough conversation with a parent, a teacher leans on Listening and Collaborative Decision-Making. In doing so, they may also strengthen Spiritual Development and Well-being—because slowing down and really listening can create a safer space for growth rather than escalation.
Addressing Difficult Topics with Courage shifts how we engage with First Peoples. Reconciliation, after all, isn’t possible without honesty about history and ongoing inequities, however uncomfortable that truth may feel.
A deep commitment to Justice for All Peoples and the Environment often sharpens how we Embrace Diversity of Faiths, Cultures and Languages—because justice work without genuine inclusion risks being thin, even tokenistic.
A school board wrestling with a difficult decision may find itself drawing on several characteristics at once. That mix tends to create a process marked by positive disruption and hopeful reimagination—slower, more deliberate, and, in the end, more trusted, even when not everyone agrees.
This, to me, is the quiet magic of the characteristics: they disrupt, they reimagine, and they quietly change how we govern, hold power, and imagine what a flourishing community could look like.
And their depth is theological—but not blind religiosity. They carry the weight of a long tradition that values intellectual integrity alongside spiritual conviction, naming (as best we can) what the divine might be nudging us toward.
I sometimes wonder if we’ve grown too used to treating them lightly—as if they’re just nice sentiments to frame and hang on the wall.
What might happen if we risked a deeper reading?
- Explore the characteristics here
- Where have you seen these characteristics intersect in surprising ways? Or where could they breathe new life into each other in your context?
This post was originally shared on LinkedIN and republished here for our Synod community.
