Someone once said, ‘I think if I ever found the perfect church, I could never be a member; because as soon I joined it, it wouldn’t be perfect anymore.’ Over the last month, it has emerged again that the Church is not a perfect thing. At General Convention, the attention garnered by votes to confirm the Diocese of New Hampshire’s election of an openly gay man as their next bishop has reminded both the world and the Church itself, that, while the Church is a divine institution, it is also a thoroughly human organism. The Church’s connection with God was evident in the fact that those at Convention came together out of a common desire to be faithful to God and to be faithful to one another in Christ’s Name, and that for the most part they conducted themselves accordingly. At the same time, the human messiness of the Church is apparent in the fact that there is a sizable contingent on each side of the issue.
Fans of critical theology and systematics may have preferred that the Church proceed via solid conversation and debate, then articulate a rationale, define a procedure, and establish a Church-wide foundation for proposals and legislation. It seems obvious that substantive conversations and debates have been far too few throughout the process of the Church’s address of the issues around homosexual Christians. This is likely a big reason behind the decision to push ahead with a political / legislative approach around the symbolic figure of bishop-elect Gene Robinson, rather than an emphasis upon a relational approach to the issue of inclusion of gay laity, an issue that directly concerns many more lives than just one or a few. As a Church, we’ve largely avoided the discomfort of genuine conversations and debates among those who disagree, though these will be virtually impossible to avoid now. In the meantime, it’s possible that the controversial confirmation of the election of one bishop may actually have set back any progress toward a common agreement around formal recognition via liturgy of gay Christians in the life of the Church. One can only wonder if the cause for each side has been harmed by what surely must be the irony of the single critical matter upon which both sides could agree, namely: to bring the matter to a vote, and so, to formally cast in stone their disagreement with one another.
In the meantime, some of our folks are deeply hurt, sad, or angry; and some are relieved, satisfied, or overjoyed.
And many are simply wondering if, how, or why they should respond at all. To the degree that people don’t feel all that concerned, this may well be a sign of wisdom, a sign of the knowledge by faith that we are all in God’s hands and so all will be well, and in the meantime, we may simply press on with the grace and responsibility of being the welcome-home people of God. And to the degree that people do in fact feel strongly about this or other controversies in the life of the Church, then we’ll do well to remember that this is entirely appropriate. Would that we all were more passionately invested, more of the time, in more areas of the life of the Church.
Here we can take a lesson from the scriptures. In line with the wisdom of the writer to the Ephesian Christians, if we’re angry, then let’s be angry; if we’re sad, let’s be sad; if we’re glad, let’s be glad; but also let us not sin. Continuing then, ‘let us allow all bitterness, and wrath, and anger and clamor and slander be put apart from us.’ Let’s note here that the writer says ‘apart from us’; not apart from me, or apart from you, or apart from him or her or them, but apart from us. The point seems to be that however you or I feel about it, and however we respond to how we feel about it, this is not just about you alone; it’s not just about me alone, or him or her alone. The point is that life in Christ calls us instead to ‘be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another as God in Christ has forgiven’ us, ourselves.
But is this divine ideal truly a human possibility? Theologian Raimundo Pannikkar has written in The Trinity and the Religious Experience of Man that “The proper balance of the scales is upset when one ceases to look at the centre; if one gazes at God one is blinded; if one gazes at man one is deafened.” To which one might add that the center is not a fixed point upon which we may gaze as an alternative middle ground. Rather it is the wandering field of view where we allow our gaze to relax in order not to be too fixed upon God to the exclusion of humanity, or too fixed upon humanity to the exclusion of God. Whenever our gaze wanders back to the center, we discover again what really matters, both to God and to ourselves.
The reality of General Convention is that it has little to do with real parish life and with our ministry in the world. This will be a comfort to some, and to some it will be a frustration. And this simply is the way it is. The reality is also that the debate will continue in the political, and hopefully in the pastoral, life of the Church. Again, this will be a comfort to some, and to some it will be a frustration. This simply is the way it is. The reality is also that, nowadays, when you or I say that we’re Episcopalian, people often listen a little closer just to hear what we might say next. It’s an opportunity for us to share a bit of the Gospel, simply, the way it is.
When it come to ‘the issues,’ it’s only naïve to expect that we would always all agree. Such would make for an extremely small and boring little fellowship. Likely the majority of us Episcopalians are not conservative enough for conservatives, and not liberal enough for liberals. But we’re probably Christian enough for Christians. As with any honest kindred relationship, we should be at liberty to our opinions without apology, provided we listen respectfully to those of others. At the same time, it’s only arrogance that any of us would regard his or her own opinions as Gospel, and then preach them as such. It’s hard to imagine that God would have us sacrifice the sacred bond of our common life in Christ on the altar of issue and opinion.
And so if we’ll allow our gaze to wander back to center, we may find that the holy strength of our common life is visible to us every Sunday. Yes, we know full well that on some issue or another, each of us will disagree with some of the folks with whom we gather to worship God. Yet, with many of us having been through both leaner times and greener times together, our way is to stay with one another. This is not to suggest that our differences are insignificant. What matters to you, what matters to me, what matters to him, to her, to them, these are important. It’s just that for most of us, if not all, what gathers us together is more important than whatever it is that would like to divide us. Does anyone doubt that in the world today, there are as many now as ever have been who, though perhaps without knowing it as such, nevertheless, long for that deep forgiveness that sets free, for that care that truly comforts, for that blessing beyond all joy; for union with God, for communion with God’s people, and for the work and prayer of sharing God’s Love?
Our ministry as the Church to one another and to the world around us, sharing the knowledge and love of Christ, is growing today, and will be growing next week, next month, and next year. And this is not due to the fact that the Episcopal Church is a perfect Church, because it isn’t. And it isn’t because we here in the Diocese of Texas and in our parish churches are perfect either, because we aren’t. Where our ministries continue to thrive and grow, it will be because in the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ, all who are drawn by God are welcome to come join with us, with God’s imperfect people, as we meet and know and serve the perfect love of God.
Jim +
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