Luminous Darkness

Here are the options that were discussed (as copied from the handout presented this meeting):

1) No Change: Continue as we are responding to challenges presented by The Episcopal Church, The Anglican Communion and/or some of its constituent parts.

2) Submit to The Episcopal Church: Acede to the demands of The Episcopal Church.

3) Resist: Find new ways of resisting the demands and direction of The Episcopal Church. During the discussion, this option morphed into leaving The Episcopal Church.

4) Dissolve the Diocese: Follow procedures delineated in the settlement of Calvary lawsuit for individual parishes to leave The Episcopal Church and this diocese. When those parishes have left, Diocesan staff would resign.

Numbers (1), (2), and (4) were rejected, and (3) was selected as a basis for further discussion. Despite this, we are being told now by Canon Mary Hayes that “none of these have been rejected,” although there seems to be some debate about this. We are now opening the floor for discussion, and talking about what this meeting hopes to accomplish.

I’m here at the Diocese of Pittsburgh District VII meeting at St. Andrew’s Church in Highland Park.  We opened with prayer for all the churches in the District, sang Hymn 680, O God Our Help in Ages Past, and then we were welcomed by Roger Westman, District Convener.  With him are Bishop Henry Scriven, Canon Mary Hayes, Mary Rourke (?) from the District Council.  I was particularly touched by the last verse of the hymn:

O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come, be thou our guide while life shall last, and our eternal home.

We begin with thoughts about the recent diocesan meeting, and will first discuss the various options.

I’m going to attempt to live blog from the meeting I’m attending tonight which is of District VII of the Diocese of Pittsburgh. The “leadership” of the diocese will be present, and we are going to be discussing “the choices before the diocese.”
However, I want to begin with a quote from St. Basil the Great, taken from section 78 of his On the Holy Spirit. In it, he describes the nature and tone of the Church in his day, the middle of the 4th century, wracked as it was with the Arian controversy:

The love of many has grown cold; concord among brothers is no more; the very name of unity is ignored; Christian compassion or sympathetic tears cannot be found anywhere. There is no one to welcome someone weak in faith, but mutual hatred blazes so fiercely among brothers that a neighbors’ fall brings them more joy than their own household’s success. And just as a contagious disease spreads from the sick to the healthy during an epidemic, in these days we have become like everyone else: imitators of evil, carried away by this wicked rivalry possessing our souls. Those who judge the erring are merciless and bitter, while those judging the upright are unfair and hostile. This evil is so firmly rooted in us that we have become more brutish than the beasts: At least they herd together with their own kindred, but we reserve our most savage warfare for the members of our own household.

I see that when I first read this that I put a note in the margin of my copy that says: “Sounds like the church of today!”

I will post what I can as the meeting progresses.

Since today is the Feast of St. Andrew, I attended the noon Eucharist in the cathedral downtown here in Pittsburgh. I am not sure who the priest was that took the service, but his sermon was a fascinating dismissal of the entire decision-making process that has been in place throughout the history of the Church. He began by saying that in our American culture today we feel that we can only accept something once we have discussed it at great length and then voted on it. For him, the impact of this is that we do not fully accept any idea or proposition, but rather constantly ask for more proof and more evidence.

He then went on to say that this is also the way that the ‘modern’ Church makes decisions about doctrine, that is, by voting on them, and that this is wrong and goes against true Christian practice and belief. He held up St. Andrew as someone who simply followed what Jesus told him to do, and said that we should do the same. Of course, he didn’t mention what we should do when faced with a problem that Jesus didn’t discuss.

He pointed to the Episcopal Church’s General Convention, which, he helpfully reminded us, is the largest legislative body in the United States with its ‘900 members’ (i.e. those in the House of Lay and Clerical Deputies — I guess that the House of Bishops and its 300 members is not really relevant somehow), as a body which makes doctrinal decisions by voting on them.

In all of this, he failed to mention that our form of ecclesiastical decision-making in the Episcopal Church was set up in the 18th century after the American Revolutionary War on purpose, to differentiate us from the state-run Church of England. To this day, the Queen of England appoints bishops and Parliament must sign off on any major doctrinal or liturgical changes, such as any revisions to the Book of Common Prayer. The Episcopal Church believes that this democratic process is the best way we have come up with to discern the teaching of the Holy Spirit in contemporary society. Through discussion, debate, and an eventual vote, we are able to try and see what new things God is telling us.

I would certainly not say that the system is perfect. At my first General Convention, I was partly amazed but also partly horrified at some of the ridiculous debates that wasted time, energy, and money. In addition, my experience at the World Council of Churches led me to an understanding that perhaps there is some value to the idea of consensus decision-making rather than straight up-or-down voting.

Now, the other piece of the Church’s history that this sermon failed to discuss are all of the councils that have been held throughout the centuries. In particular, the early Ecumenical Councils, recognized by all mainline Christian bodies as doctrinally unique and centrally important, were, in fact, voting assemblies of bishops from throughout early church. Texts such as the Nicene Creed (which, strangely, we did not say during the Eucharist — perhaps there was no room to fit it in after the lengthly sermon) were created out of these debates and discussions which, in fact, were fairly politically motivated. For example, the Roman emperor Constantine called the Council of Nicea in 314 C.E. in order to calm down the fighting factions in the Church of his day, but the main benefit that he was hoping for was political stability throughout the empire.

This idea of democratically-based doctrinal decision-making is not new at all, but, in many ways, forms the basis for the entire Christian theological tradition and points to the idea of continuing revelation — that God is still speaking to us today.

One of the points that I am going to make in my eventually to be published article about an Anglican covenant (which came out of my M.Phil. dissertation at Cambridge) is that the term ‘Anglican Church’ is one with which we are not familiar. In fact, it is particularly important that we remember that a ‘church’ is not the same as our ‘communion’. As Anglicans around the world, we may disagree with exactly what a ‘communion’ is, but I hope that we can agree that it is not a ‘church’. The Anglican Communion is made up of churches, but it is definitely not a church itself. It is part of the ‘Church’ — that body of all faithful Christians living and dead (the great cloud of witnesses), but each national church maintains its own integrity. This is what we bring to the Christian world — an understanding of the particular relationship between our provinces — something of real value to the rest of the Christian tradition and we need to remember that.

What brought on this little comment on was this article from Reuters about the Archbishop of Canterbury’s recent trip to China, where he is referred to as the ‘head of the world’s Anglican church’. (I suppose there is a whole other article to be written dealing with the ‘head’ part rather than the ‘church’ part, but I’ll leave that for another time.)

Thanks to One Thing I Know, I was led to an article about church shopping in the evangelical Christian community: iChurch: All We Like Sheep. The author makes a number of interesting points about how following a Christian lifestyle in the United States has become in many ways synonymous with the consumerist culture that we have here. He points out that Christianity for many has become simply another product that we buy in order to continue on our journey of making ourselves happy and fulfilled:

Approaching Christianity as a brand (rather than a worldview) explains why the majority of people who identify themselves as born-again Christians live no differently than other Americans. According to George Barna, most churchgoers have not adopted a biblical worldview, they have simply added a Jesus fish to the bumper of their unregenerate consumer identities. As Mark Riddle observes, “Conversion in the U.S. seems to mean we’ve exchanged some of our shopping at Wal-Mart, Blockbuster, and Borders for the Christian bookstore down the street. We’ve taken our lack of purchasing control to God’s store, where we buy our office supplies in Jesus’ name.

He rightly goes on to point out that:

Consumers demand options, but this poses a problem. Formation into the likeness of Christ is not accomplished by always getting what we want.

For me, as a member of a so-called ‘mainline’ denomination and not an independent church, this is important in the way that I have to commit to going to the church of my denomination which happens to be geographically near me. Although as Episcopalians we do not quite have the cannonical parish structure of the Roman Catholic church, unless one lives in a city, there is usually not a whole lot of choice about what church to go to if ones considers onself to be a member of that specific denomination. This means that I have to make that choice to commit to something greater than simply a local expression of the church.

This, in turn, is one of the reasons why I value our worldwide Anglican Communion. Despite the problems inherent in being in relationship with people across the world who differ from my views about Christianity, we are still members together in somethin greater than any of our own local expressions of it. That is what the Church (big ‘C’) is all about — being part of that community of belivers who follow Jesus and serve him together in community. The community is both local and global, and I believe that we throw that off to our long-term peril.

I have decided that it is time to state some of my views about the current situation within The Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion, especially given how much more divisive the conflict has become since General Convention 2006 finished. Much has been said about how The Episcopal Church has either ‘broken away from’ or has ‘moved beyond’ the rest of the Anglican Communion, depending upon one’s views. I however, feel strongly that both sides (if such a narrow division can even be said to exist) have here moved towards the boundaries of orthodoxy by forgetting that we are all called to be one Church in Christ. Please read the whole passage carefully, do not just skim it because you believe you know what it says; we can all always be taught something new by letting the light of scripture illuminate our darkness:

For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit. Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot would say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear would say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many members, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect; whereas our more respectable members do not need this. But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.

I have heard many people, including close friends, on both sides of this divide say words along the lines of ‘we do not need those people any more’. The passage above is very clear that in saying that these are not words that we are allowed to use regarding our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Now, many people believe that centrists such as myself are perhaps simply ambivalent about our views, or do not actually believe in anything. Nothing could be further from the truth in my case. I have a very strong sacramental and bible-centered faith and a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. I understand my Christian life as an equal cooperative effort between word and sacrament, and champion a difference between the word of God in the Bible and the Word of God, the logos, Jesus Christ. In addition, I hold strongly to the via media understanding that our God-given reason serves as the mediator between holy scripture and the historical tradition of the Church, and feel that the Holy Spirit is still at work leading us into all truth.

I firmly believe that change is necessary in the church’s understanding of its faith and life in any age, especially in the world of today where we have not always chosen to acknowledge that our world is very different than it was even a few decades ago, much less a few hundred years ago. However, I do not believe that change should allow different parts of the Church to say that they have no more need of other parts of the body of Christ. I feel that there is value in an historical and international dimension to the worship of God, particularly as expressed in the worldwide relationship between the diverse provinces of the Anglican Communion. In short, neither side in this conflict has convinced me that they are taking the Church itself seriously, and I have heard the same level of vicious, non-Christian behavior from people at both ends of the spectrum.

To lay my cards fully on the table here, I should say that in general, theologically, I support the liberal points of view about such issues as women as leaders in the church and homosexuality. (I prefer, in general, not to use the words liberal and conservative since they are misleading and overused, but since this language is what we have at the moment, I will use them with caution.) Conservatives seem to feel that they are categorically right without any hint of interest in actually listening to the voices of those who have been oppressed both inside and outside of the church for generations. In addition, they seem to forget that for those affected personally by these debates, this is not just an ‘issue’ to be discussed, but the current state of someone’s life, a person created in the image and likeness of God and loved by God. On the other hand, liberals have for many years used up so much of the political and moral capital of a shrinking church to discuss these few issues when there is so much else wrong in the world that is left undiscussed. Many of my friends may be offended by this, but I really do believe that the fact that thousands of children die in Africa every day from starvation is more important than a debate about human sexuality in the United States. I certainly cannot fully understand the pain and prejudice suffered by those who have been oppressed, but I still believe what I have said to be true. The world is broken, we know that it is getting worse, and I do not see the Church doing all it could to help.

In fact, when I look at what is going on in the church right now, what I see is behavior fairly reminiscent of the situation in the United States politically. Everything has become a zero sum gain, where the only option is either 100% or nothing. There is no possibility of compromise, and both sides have decided the outcome before the discussion has even happened. Instead of adopting this behavior, based in the economics of globalization and trade, the church should be arguing firmly against such behavior, in opposition to the prevailing culture. That is what we are called to do as Christians.

I imagine that I many get a few fiery comments regarding what I have said, but that is enough for now. I will post more at another time, and will leave you to find more information about Anglican centrists on the web (not all of whom I agree with fully, but that is the point of course) for yourself. I found this short essay a good place to begin: The Centrist Movement.

I am now about halfway through my trip to Brazil and I find that I have been too busy to spend any real time on reflecting on all that has transpired over the last ten days. The Assembly began last Monday and I was right into my work as a a steward. This involves taking requests from journalists for interviews and attempting to track down the people that they would like to talk to in order to facilitate the process. This is made rather complicated by the fact that there are over 5,000 people at the assembly, and only the 700 or so delegates actually have anything close to assigned seats in the main plenary hall. Despite this, I have been able to solve most problems and am very much enjoying working with the people in the press office. Besides my main work, I have been helping with setting up and running the daily press conferences that take place at the Assembly.

The highlight of the last week was the visit of The Most Reverend Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury, to the assembly. He was the keynote speaker at the plenary discussion about Christian identity and religious pluralism and, as is usual for him on any topic, challenged the debate in a new and fresh way. His full address can be found at this link, but the concluding paragraph speaks to his main point:

The question of Christian identity in a world of plural perspectives and convictions cannot be answered in clichés about the tolerant co-existence of different opinions. It is rather that the nature of our conviction as Christians puts us irrevocably in a certain place, which is both promising and deeply risky, the place where we are called to show utter commitment to the God who is revealed in Jesus and to all those to whom his invitation is addressed. Our very identity obliges us to active faithfulness of this double kind. We are not called to win competitions or arguments in favour of our ‘product’ in some religious marketplace. If we are, in the words of Olivier Clement, to take our dialogue beyond the encounter of ideologies, we have to be ready to witness, in life and word, to what is made possible by being in the place of Jesus the anointed – ‘our reasons for living, for loving less badly and dying less badly’ (Clement, Anachroniques, p.307). ‘Identify yourself!’ And we do so by giving prayerful thanks for our place and by living faithfully where God in Jesus has brought us to be, so that the world may see what is the depth and cost of God’s own fidelity to the world he has made.

Since I had been in Porto Alegre for a week already, I was unofficially co-opted by the staff from the Anglican Communion Office and Lambeth Palace to help facilitate the archbishop’s visit. This meant that I was able to spend most of the day with him, mostly by leading him as efficiently as possible from one event to another and trying to fend off the hordes of people who wanted to try and speak to him. There were also many small details to be worked out, and I was able to assist with that effort by working behind the scenes with stewards in other offices to make sure that everything went smoothly. I was greatly honored to be able to have lunch with His Grace and a small group of his staff, and was extremely touched when he presented me with a copy of his book The Dwelling of the Light: Praying with Icons of Christ as a personal token of remembrance and thank you for my help. His visit was extremely well recieved by both Anglicans and non-Anglicans at the Assembly, and everyone has said that his presence was, without a doubt, the high point of the gathering so far.

Last night I went to a traditional Brazilian resturant called a churrasco. They style of eating in much of Brazil is buffet style, but in this particular type of resturant, found mostly only in the southern state where I am, waiters supplement the buffet by walking around with large skewers of meat, in more than twenty-five different cuts, from four different animals. One eats and eats until full, and then they just bring more meat! The variety was amazing and all of the food was very well prepared, as has been just about everything that I have tried in Brazil so far.

This morning, I attended church services at the Anglican cathedral in Porto Alegre, where many Assembly participants were welcomed by the Most Reverend Orlando Santos de Oliveira, Primate of the Episcopal Anglican Church of Brazil, who celebrated the Eucharist at the service, along with a number of bishops from all over the Anglican Communion. Afterwards, I walked around downtown Porto Alegre with some other stewards and did a bit of shopping at the local outdoor markets.

Perhaps the most interesting thing for me about the Assembly so far has been the question of language. I was sorry when I arrived that I had not had any time to learn any Portuguese before I came but, when I arrived, I discovered that it would have been even more useful to brush up on my high school Spanish! There are many participants from Latin America, and many of them only speak Spanish. In additition, many Brazilians speak some Spanish or can at least get along in it. The two languages are not at all as similar as I had supposed, but my Spanish has improved a great deal over the time that I have been here.

That is basically all of the news for now, so I will write again when I have more time.