Boomer Angst

I'm already on record as not being particularly a fan of my own Baby Boomer generation. We're a bunch of Peter Pans; we've never wanted to grow up and, despite our balding heads and bulging bellies, we never have. I break out in a cold sweat in the middle of the night when I contempate that fact that Boomers are running both my church and my country, and generally making a mess of both.

Fellow-Boomer Victor Davis Hanson, whom I am not familiar with but who apparently writes for National Review, has rather lucidly explicated the failings of our generation here. (Hat tip to T19.) Read it and weep.

A Statement from the Standing Committee of the Diocese of Northern Indiana

From here:

We, the Standing Committee of the Diocese of Northern Indiana strongly protest the failure of the Presiding Bishop, Katherine Jefferts Schori and Chancellor David Booth Beers to follow the Canons of our Episcopal Church in the depositions of Bishops John Schofield and William Cox. Deposition is the harshest punishment that can be handed a bishop. It is essential that both the letter and the spirit of the Canons be followed since, in this case, the rights of the accused are protected, in part, by the extraordinarily high level of involvement and concord called for within the House of Bishops by Canon IV.9.2. As others have pointed out, the Constitution and Canons of the Episcopal Church at various times distinguishes between a majority of the Bishops at a meeting, from a vote by a majority of the whole. Mr. Beers was incorrect in his assertion, reaffirmed by the Presiding Bishop in a letter to the House of Bishops (April 30, 2008), that the Canonical language of “the whole number of bishops entitled to vote” can be taken to mean only “those in attendance at a particular meeting.” This makes deposition an action with no higher standard than any matter of routine business. We agree with the analysis provided by the Bishops and Standing Committees of the Dioceses of South Carolina and Central Florida that the Canons plainly require a majority of all Bishops entitled to vote, not just those in attendance at a particular meeting. [1]

We call upon the Presiding Bishop and the House of Bishops to revisit those decisions and make every effort to follow our Church Canons in this and all future House of Bishops decisions.

We note with alarm that the Presiding Bishop has publically stated her intent to begin, at the September meeting of the House of Bishops, deposition proceedings against Bishop Robert Duncan of the Diocese of Pittsburgh for abandoning the communion before the diocese votes to do so in November. We plead for calm and prayer in the face of temptations to escalate abuses of power in this way. We agree with the Standing Committee of Central Florida and others who insist that depositions are an unnecessary and unfortunate way to deal with disagreement, dissension, and even division within our Church. We believe it also borders on unchristian.

This statement was written shortly after Trinity Sunday. The Trinitarian faith we profess in our worship is no mere exercise in divine arithmetic. The Trinity helps us know God’s true character within whose being exists a community of divine self-abasement. Thus understood, the Trinity is the foundation upon which truly human relationships are built. Everything the New Testament has to say about Christian relationships flows from this essential understanding of God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Nowhere is this clearer than in Philippians 2:1-11.

We believe that when we let the same mind be in us that was in Jesus, other ways of responding to division come into view. Those Bishops (or other clergy) who, for sake of conscience, can no longer minister as part of The Episcopal Church can be transferred at their request, or permitted to renounce their vows and join with other Anglican Provinces without vindictiveness or punitive measures. Confrontation in the Church is an opportunity to show the world how Christians conduct themselves in the midst of serious disagreements. It is an opportunity to proclaim the Gospel.

We urge the House of Bishops to give attention to these matters in the name of mutuality, humility and concord.

We insist that when it becomes necessary to invoke the Canons, that both the letter and the spirit of the law be dutifully followed.

We encourage the Standing Committees of the various dioceses within The Episcopal Church to investigate these matters for themselves and prayerfully consider an appropriate response.

Peace be to the Church, and love with faith, from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Grace be with all who have an undying love our Lord Jesus Christ.

The Standing Committee of the Diocese of Northern Indiana :

The Rev. Bennett G. Jones II, President

The Rev. James Warnock, Secretary

The Rev. Canon Richard A. Kallenberg

Timothy C. Gray

Cynthia Guzzo

Pamela Barnes Harris

My New Avatar

I won't explain.

Browse the comments on what is currently the lead essay (far right column) on Stand Firm (my name is in the title) and you'll "get it."

Thanks, Sarah!

Perception is Reality

That old internet dowager, the House of Bishops/Deputies listserv, is usually a little slow on the uptake, so its members are only beginning to share their wisdom over the controversy that won't quite go away--namely, a pattern of conveniently incoherent intepretation of canons on the part of the Presiding Bishop and her staff. Some express annoyed dismay that we're talking about it at all. To them I had this to say earlier today:

What follows is nothing new. It isn't anything that hasn't been said many times before, including by me. But one should never tire of telling the truth when it needs to be told, and the responses on this thread make it abundantly clear that some critical elements of the truth have not yet sunk in with a lot of the members of this list.

So, here goes ... one ... more ... time.

Everybody I know is willing to stipulate to the substance of the charges against Bishops Cox and Schofield--that they have indeed "abandoned the communion of this church" (i.e. TEC). (One could make a case that the abandonment canon was the wrong one to use in their cases, but that's another conversation.) So nobody on either "side" of this mess is contesting the outcome--that Bishops Cox and Schofield be no longer allowed to exercise ordained ministry as representatives of the Episcopal Church. That ball is not in play and nobody is trying to put it in play.

Opinions vary on this, but I, for one, do not attribute any dishonorable or malevolent motives to the Presiding Bishop or to Chancellor Beers with respect to how the depositions were handled at the March HOB meeting. I think it was an honest mistake on their part. I agree that they were following established precedent. Nor do I blame the bishops for not objecting at the time; they too were following precedent and assumed everything was on the up and up. They may have been culpably ignorant, but they were, I would wager, nonetheless ignorant. Nobody was trying to pull a fast one, and nobody was sitting mutely while an injustice was being perpetrated. But, as has been amply demonstrated, it was a bad precedent, and two wrongs don't make a right. There is a legitimate distinction to be made between the precedent of a judicial opinion and the precedent of an administrative practice. The former helps shape the body of legal tradition. The latter, when it is pursued in error, only compounds the error, and makes it only that much more imperative that the error be rectified.

All this is taking place, of course, in a wider context of grave crisis in TEC and in the Anglican Communion. We are staring at each other across spiritual minefields, from foxholes and trenches. The general level of trust and presumptive good will is at what could be an all-time low in our history. The "bonds of affection" have been strained not only *to* the breaking point but well beyond that point. In such a conflicted environment, process becomes all the more important. Even when we cannot trust one another as brothers and sisters in Christ, a shared commitment to due process--to the rules we agreed to live under in less cantankerous times--becomes the only bit of glue that can bind us together, short of a completely sovereign and veritably miraculous intervention of the Holy Spirit.

In such a conflicted state, when mutual adherence to constitution and canons is all we have to hang onto, the strict observance of those canons by everyone involved takes on paramount importance--more importance than in more "normal" times, when the resilience of the organism is more capable of tolerating some technical defects in processes like the deposition of bishops. We don't live in such times presently, and, as a body, we don't have the resilience to withstand such defects. There isn't enough trust to go around at the moment. If there were ever a time when we need to be punctiliously compliant with the letter of our own laws, this is that time.

And what do we have now in this time of Anglican angst? We have a widespread and growing *perception* that due process was abused. We have heard officially from South Carolina, Central Florida, and Springfield. I predict there will be more. This perception of canonical laxity extends from the Cox-Schofield depositions to the whole manner in which 815 has dealt with the San Joaquin meltdown--IMO, a much more egregious problem. In such a time as this, even the perception--let alone the reality--of canonical abuse poisons the well from which we all drink.

Fixing the mess, and restoring some modicum of confidence that we are abiding by our own rules, is difficult but not impossible. There are multiple ways this could happen, but the simplest one, in Bishop Schofield's case, would be for the HOB, by a telephone poll, to accept his letter of resignation from the HOB as tantamount to resignation from ministry in TEC, and just be done with it. But if some find that objectionable, then the Title IV Review Committee should meet (a half-hour conference call should suffice) to form the charges against Bishops Cox and Schofield, either using the same "abandonment" canon or, better still, filing a presentment and scheduling a proper trial. My guess is that neither gentleman would show up to contest the charges, so it need not be a matter of inordinate expense. But the benefits of such a move--especially if combined with an effort to face up to the boondoggle that was made of San Joaquin--would be immediately palpable.

Readability

OK, I pretty much thought so. The blog medium seems to encourage the untethering of a writer's true literary self. Fortunately for my parishioners, my sermon blog checks out at Grade 9.0 on the Fleisch-Kincaid Readability Test.

Proper 1

Remember, O Lord, what you have wrought in us and not what we deserve; and, as you have called us to your service, make us worthy of our calling; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Take a good look at this prayer. You may never see it again. Let me know if you want an explanation of the arcane rubrics in the (American) Book of Common Prayer that lead to this collect's obscurity, but, as those rubrics stand, anyone reading this post will long since have assumed room temperature before it is again officially prescribed for liturgical use after Morning Prayer this coming Saturday.

That doesn't mean one can't come back to it in the course of private or extra-liturgical devotion, and I hope many do, for it is a gem of Christian piety in general and an exemplar of Anglican spirituality in particular. It crystallizes the dialectical tension between the present reality of our salvation ("what you have wrought in us") and the ongoing process of living into that reality ("make us worthy of our calling"). We do not deserve God's grace, yet He has "wrought" a new creation within us through His grace. We are not inherently worthy to be His followers, but that same grace is ready to make us worthy.

The late great A. M. Ramsey once wrote (I wish I could recall the citation): "God does not call those who are fit; He fits those whom He calls." I am grateful for that insight just about every day of my life. And I'm grateful that the Collect for Proper 1--here today and then gone for a long while--brings it to the forefront of the Church's attention this week.

My Sermon Blog is Back

Here.

It has lain fallow during Paschaltide because I have been preaching extemporaneously (indeed, in a most evangelical expository fashion!) through the First Epistle of Peter. But now I'm back to my more scripted (but, I hope, nonetheless engaging) homiletical mode.

On Lectio Divina

For those who don't look at TitusOneNine, or who didn't bother to click on the link in that venue, I do encourage you to see this article by Laurentia Johns in the (English Roman Catholic) periodical (and website) The Tablet. The practice of "holy reading" (aka "praying the scriptures") has been a regular part of my own prayer life for several years, and this is a particularly lucid glimpse into it.

I am especially grateful for Ms Johns' attention to the symbiotic connection between the reading of the Word of God in liturgy and the practice of private prayer--the first overflowing into the second, and the second enriching and enlivening the first. So often, in my observation, people compartmentalize Sunday worship and don't create channels by which it can irrigate both personal prayer and ordinary daily living.

I am also energized by the connection she highlights between personal prayer and the common faith of the Church, how the former must always be disciplined by the latter:

Such a reading, if authentically of the Spirit, will also be consonant with the teaching of the Church, the Body of Christ - Son and Spirit, the "two hands of God" always work together (Irenaeus of Lyons: see, for example, Against Heresies IV, pref., 4).

How apropos this is in an environment where so many are apt to pit dogma (in the best sense of that term) against “Spirit.”

Do give the whole thing a look.

Lost in Wonder, Love, & Praise

I seldom cry real tears. I'm just not put together that way. But I do weep in spirit over a great number of things--the ordinary sorrows of the ordinary people among whom I serve, the unspeakable suffering of the population of Myanmar who have been victimized first by a cyclone and then by a criminally inept and clueless government, and, of course, the never-dull drama of Anglican Christianity. I weep in spirit, with generous dollops of anger and grief, over the disintegration of an ecclesial universe that has been the vehicle of light and life to my soul since my early adulthood, and in which I am thoroughly formed as a Christian disciple. The level of conflict and dysfunction and uncertainty is not what I would have wished for myself at this stage of my life.

Once in a while, though, I do cry real tears--sometimes of sorrow, and sometimes of . . . I don't quite want to say joy . . . ecstasy might be more like it. When that sort happens, chances are I'm in church and chances are I'm trying to sing something. I cried during my first Easter Vigil, during the hymn right after the lights come on. I cried on Good Friday my first year in seminary, as I literally helped hold the cross while the entire assembly approached it in pairs to kneel and pray while everyone else was singing the Reproaches set to music by the Spanish Rennaissance composer Tomas Luis de Victoria.

But first prize in this category goes to Westminster Abbey. Three years ago last month I made my first (and thus far only) trip to England. On the first Sunday afternoon I was there, I found myself, without any particular planning, outside the abbey at the time they were no longer admitting tourists but were letting in those who wanted to attend Evensong and promised to stay for the whole thing. They waved me past the queue and ushered me not just into the nave but all the way beyond the rood screen into the choir. (The actual choir needed only about one-third the available space in that part of the building.) The Office Hymn that day was a familiar text, Charles Wesley's Love divine, all loves excelling. American Protestants--those who still sing hymns, at any rate--are used to singing it to a rather insipid tune called Beecher. Episcopalians associate it with the incredibly durable Welsh tune Hyfyrdol. The Brits, however, have two other candidates: the very Victorian Love Divine by Sir John Stainer, and another product of Wales, Blaenwen.

It was this last one that we sang in Westminster Abbey at Evensong on that April Sunday in 2005. I was seated next to an elderly gentleman who then lived in Greece but had been a cathedral chorister as a boy in England. We both sang our hearts out. On the last half of the last verse, the organist performed the Anglican musical version of Emeril's "kick it up a notch" cooking move, pulling a 32' pedal reed and slipping in some deliciously unexpected harmonies. But I couldn't finish it myself. I was sobbing uncontrollably. It was liminal, mystical, transcendent, and I will never forget it.

I'm not even sure YouTube even existed three years ago. But I am very grateful for it now because it allows me to revisit the same spiritual territory that I was treading that afternoon in London. The BBC has a remarkable series called Songs of Praise. It's essentially a televised hymn sing. Each program features a different venue--a cathedral, a church, or an auditorium packed with enthusiastic singers, both trained and amateur. And there is a seemingly limitless number of these hymns available on YouTube.

While searching for a rendition of Love divine... to Blaenwen, I ran across this very touching choral anthem version of the text, newly composed for a youth choir festival.

Is the human face ever more beautiful than when singing? I think not. And as much as I love at least 2.5 of the hymn tune versions already available, this one is really quite nice.

I haven't yet found a performance of Blaenwen that can come close to replicating my mountaintop experience in Westminster Abbey, but in case you don't know the tune, have a look at this one. (The singers are quite skilled, but they appear to be outfitted by the costume designer for a Star Trek movie.)

What the various commenters say about the hymn and the tune are probably of more interest than the actual performance, but still . . .

I need to never quit singing hymns, if for no other reason than that a good many of those people who most exasperate me these days are eventually going to be singing beside me and casting their crowns as I cast mine before the Lamb that was slain and the One seated on the throne as we are together lost in wonder, love, and praise. If I didn't believe that, I couldn't keep going.

Whom Do YOU "Meet " on Sunday Morning?

Each of us is conditioned to notice certain things more than others when we encounter "the media." As a "religious professional," my ears are tuned to any mention of how people spend Sunday morning. (Naturally, I have my opinion about how they should be spending it.)

So the ears of my heart perked up when I ran across this bit from Cal Thomas' most recent column to appear in the Warsaw Times-Union (he's talking about Time magazine's list of the "100 most influential people in the world"):

Who on Time's list fits the definition of "influential"? Not Tim Russert, who is a terrific interviewer, but how much influence could he have at 11 a.m. on a Sunday morning when millions are in church? "If it's Sunday, it is 'Meet the Press'" he signs off every week. No, if it's Sunday, for more people than watch his program, it is church.

I have no intention of marking myself as a fossil by indulging in a "back in the day" rant about the due observance of the Lord's Day. (Although the first time I tried to buy a case of beer in Indiana on a Sunday, I felt like I was "back in the day"!) While I am veritably jubilant to read that there are more people in church on Sunday than watch Meet the Press, a claim I have no reason to doubt, the attitude evinced by Mr Russert in his sign-off remains an emblem of the still-emerging post-Christian era in western society.

Would I have wanted Christendom to endure a while longer--at least until I've moved on to the life to come? Sure. If given the opportunity, I would roll back the clock on that one. Here's the thing: Those of us who are leaders in the old line churches, especially those of a sacramental-liturgical ilk, are pretty much clueless about how to "do church" in any other way than the model we inherited from the era of Christendom. What I and my "religious professional" colleagues are formed for is to be faithful "village parsons"--to lead worship, preach and teach, be the presence of Christ to people at the watershed moments of their lives, and, if we're reasonaby competent, build some community along the way.

In the meantime, though, the acreage of unharvested grain is increasing exponentially (see here for a sobering reality check), and post-Christian Christianity needs to get its act together. The obstacles are a lot more formidable than competing with Tim Russert for quality time on Sunday morning.

Some Good Straws to Grasp At

Maybe I've been drinking the water at the Hillary Clinton School of Optimism, but I find myself encouraged by today's news that the Ordinary and the Assistant Bishop of Pittsburgh have announced that they will be attending the Lambeth Conference. This comes on top of slightly less recent news that the Bishop of Fort Worth and the Presiding Bishop of the Province of the Southern Cone will also be heading north after GAFCON before going home.

In the cavalcade of events since the 2003 General Convention lit a match to the tinder-dry Anglican forest, the worst-case-scenario-sum-of-all-fears for me and for many others has been the prospect of a monumental schism that cuts to the core of Anglicanism, with a larger chunk, mostly "Global South", spinning off into a theologically orthodox (in an Evangelical sense, with tolerance for some Catholics in their midst) but non-Canterburian post-Anglican body, leaving behind a smaller chunk, mostly European and North American, in a radically downsized but Canterbury-centered Anglicanism dominated by "progressive" theology, with some degree of tolerance for Catholics and Evangelicals who remain with them.

This nightmare scenario remains a clear and present danger. If I were a betting man (which I am so not), I would hedge my bet, but my main money would go with the split. I have long prayed for, and advocated for, an end to the ill-advised boycott of the Lambeth Conference by the Global South bishops and their allies. With a strong united front, it is still possible to consolidate the gains made in 1998 (the statement on sexuality known as Lambeth I.10) and dig a foundation for a strong Anglican Covenant, one that will enable Anglican Christianity to finally come of age for the first time in history. This Lambeth Conference had the potential to be of watershed significance. I think that potential may have been squandered by a series of rash and impatient moves (GAFCON among them) on the part of orthodox Anglicans. But the news that some key voices of mainstream Anglicanism from North America will be at the table in Canterbury this summer is welcome.

We've Always Done It That Way Before

This just in from the Anglican Communion Institute re the mysterious memo made public last week asserting a case for presentment against the Presiding Bishop for violation of the constitution and canons of the Episcopal Church:

Addendum in light of the Presiding Bishop’s April 30, 2008 Letter to the House of Bishops:

Written by Confidential to ACI

Tuesday, 06 May 2008

A defense now proffered by the Presiding Bishop and her supporters is that the same procedures were followed in the recent cases of Bishops Davies and Moreno. Past violations of the canon’s clear provisions are said to justify current ones. In considering this defense, it is necessary to distinguish three senses of “precedent” in legal usage. One is the well-known sense of precedent as a formal ruling on a legal issue by a competent juridical body. This is clearly not the case here as no one has suggested that the prior cases were determined to be canonical by any body reviewing the canonical issues. These cases are not offered as reasoned legal rulings, but as a fait accompli. A second sense of precedent is that in which the actions of parties to a contract are used to interpret terms that are vague or ambiguous. In civil law this concept is referred to as “course of performance,” and this type of precedent is often used as an aid to interpretation for vague or ambiguous contractual terms such as those relating to timeliness or quality. For example, terms like “promptly” or “standard grade” are ones that can sometimes be interpreted by the parties’ performance. The applicability of this principle can be seen in the present context by noting that the meaning of the vague term “forthwith” in Canon IV.9 is given meaning by the Presiding Bishop’s own action in giving notice to Bishop Schofield within 48 hours of receiving the certification from the Review Committee. But the requirements of inhibition in IV.9 and for consent by a majority of the whole number of bishops entitled to vote are not vague or ambiguous terms. They are expressed in mandatory language using precise terms that are clearly defined and used elsewhere in the canons. Express terms control when in conflict with arguable interpretations based on prior actions. The third type of precedent is one that is often encountered in commercial litigation and corporate law. This is when clear contractual or legal duties are repeatedly violated. Here the past misconduct is to no avail absent an explicit waiver. Especially relevant to the current context is a pattern familiar to any corporate lawyer: that of a closely-held corporation that does not follow its own bylaws. Such corporations, owned by one or a small number of shareholders, have many of the same duties in terms of corporate formalities and procedural regularity as public corporations traded on national stock exchanges. Corporate law requires that proper procedures be followed in order for an enterprise to receive legal recognition and protection as a corporation. Often the sole shareholder of a corporation pays no attention to these formalities or the requirements of the corporate bylaws. The business is simply run as the shareholder sees fit. But when the litigation arises and a hostile party asks the court to disregard the corporate form and permit a suit directly against the shareholder, those past “precedents” of ignoring the corporate rules are to no avail. In fact, the naked “we’ve done it this way before” becomes evidence for the other side, the primary evidence that the corporate form is a sham. The frequent result in such cases is that the law disregards the corporate form --it “pierces the corporate veil”-- and the shareholder’s assets are no longer protected as intended by the corporation. Corporations that seek the law’s recognition must follow the legal requirements and their own rules. Past malfeasance is not a defense; to the contrary it is proof of a pattern of abuse that exacerbates the current violation. It is a supreme irony that Bishop Lamb is now petitioning the California courts to defer to TEC’s polity and recognize him as the bishop of San Joaquin when the clear provisions of TEC’s canons indicate Bishop Schofield has not been lawfully deposed.

What you see above is the entire addendum, but here's the link to the source. The original memorandum can be seen here.

San Joaquin's Legal Status Explicated

A.S. Haley in his blog The Anglican Curmudgeon is doing top-drawer work analyzing and explaining the evolving legal situation among Anglicans in central California. His work is devastatingly thorough and inexorably logical. If you are at all interested in this mess, you will be behind the curve if you have not read this material.

Start here. Then go here. Remember that these two blog posts (and one yet to follow) are in the form of a hypothetical future memorandum from a future chancellor to a future Presiding Bishop, explaining why the Episcopal Church lost its legal battle in San Joaquin, and suggesting what can be done to reverse the damage.

Diachronic Koinonia

I was immediately captivated by this expression the moment I heard it proceed from the mouth of the Bishop of Rome as he addressed a gathering of ecumenical leaders in New York City a couple of weeks ago. While he never mentioned the Episcopal Church by name, it seems scarcely imaginable that he was not speaking directly to "this church." His plea was that we pay attention not simply to our relationships in community (koinonia is the New Testament ecclesiological term for communion, deep fellowship, within the Body of Christ) with other Christians at this moment in time, but with those who lived--or will live, presumably--at other moments. Reconciliation needs to occur not only with our contemporaries, but with those who have gone before us and will come after us.

Nearly four decades ago I had a college professor who never tired of railing against what he called "present-mindedness," a habit of thought that magnifies the insights and attitudes of the zeitgeist, and heavily discounts those of earlier eras. Is not present-mindedness surely the besetting malady of the Episcopal Church? We are veritably amnesiac. We have forgotten who we are. I was raised in midwestern free-church evangelicalism, a subculture that, in my youth, was so amnesiac that it almost believed the doctrinal content of the Christian faith was dropped by parachute on Wheaton, Illinois sometime around the turn of the last century.

So it was a liberating moment for me when I knelt before the Bishop of Los Angeles (33 years ago last month) for the sacramental rite of Confirmation. Without losing anything that I had embraced in my Christian journey before that point, I gained the wisdom and coherence of 2,000 years of Christian tradition. I accepted the givenness of Christianity. It was not my possession, my personal intellectual toy. It was something that had been "handed along" (Greek paradosis--"tradition") to me. As a pastor, all these years later, it is my solemn obligation to "hand along" what we have received to others--intact. I have neither the burden nor the authority to re-invent it.

This is the practice of diachronic koinonia. Until recent years, one could make a plausible case that such practice was in the DNA of the Episcopal Church. Lately, not so much. We are, in fact, rapidly mutating. Bonnie Anderson's assertions (in her message to the House of Deputies this past week) that there is a theology behind TEC's polity, and that such polity is the vehicle for Divine revelation are among the signs of the ongoing mutation. The Presiding Bishop's Pentecost message that speaks not of the Holy Spirit, but simply of "Holy Spirit" is another. Pope Benedict, in his New York remarks, was lovingly and generously holding us accountable to our own identity. We have quite forgotten ourselves.

Burning Bridges

The cold front sweeping across northern Indiana from the west tonight brings with it news of the commencement of litigation over the ecclesial entity known as the Diocese of San Joaquin. Aside from finding it heartbreaking and surreal, and aside from wondering how parties on either side explain their relationship with I Corinthians 6:1-11, I don't have a lot to say. There was a time when I intended to become a lawyer. I was officially "pre-law" for one semester in college. But I'm not a lawyer. I've never played one on TV. I have spend a night in a Holiday Inn Express, but it didn't make me an expert in anything, so don't believe the ads. I'm going to leave it to actual lawyers, and probably a few wannabes, to parse out all the different ways the chips can fall on this.

But you can bet that we haven't seen the last of undisguised spin, partial statements of facts, caricature, self-congratulatory rhetoric, sweeping generalizations, and ever more entrenched positions. And it will come in more or less equal shares from both parties to the California dispute. In the meantime, searching souls for whom the Anglican way of being Christian might just offer them the most efficient way to be made a saint will be repelled by the air of conflict that envelopes American Anglicanism. Kyrie eleison.

The acrid odor you are smelling is the aroma of bridges being burned. As I have already noted more than duly in this space, the executive leadership of the Episcopal Church has tragically chosen an ideological purge over not only canon law and not only common sense but even over their own long term self-interest. They want a Diocese of San Joaquin that is a showcase for the brand of liberal puritanism that has become the order of the day, and they're not interested in the care and feeding of any conservative POWs. (Some had raised a white flag, but were quickly chased off to Argentina, which welcomed them with open arms.)

But the bridges are being torched from both ends. Some seventeen months ago, when I was still resident in San Joaquin, I proposed an "amendment to the amendment" of our constitution that, even as it helped set the pins for an potential departure from TEC (as it indeed eventually did), would have at least acknowledged that the diocese's ongoing life, whatever shape that might take, would be in organic continuity with the life and history of the Episcopal Church. My amendment went down like the Hindenburg, so toxic was the expression "Episcopal Church" in the family system of the diocese by that point. I have a strong enough ego to still contend that the convention, in rejecting my proposal, was acting against its own enlightened self-interest. At any rate, the perception of toxicity has only grown since that time. The breach that has occurred, even though Bishop Schofield proclaims it extraordinary and temporary, will never, I am convinced, be healed in my lifetime.

I will, of course, watch events as they unfold, and do so with great interest. I am an Episcopalian. I lead an Episcopal parish that is vital, orthodox in worship and teaching, and engaged in gospel-driven mission. I love the souls who have been entrusted to my pastoral care, and serve them as best as I am able. This is not to say that I don't have serious "issues" with recent actions of General Convention, Executive Council, the Presiding Bishop, and the President of the House of Deputies. I do indeed have such issues, and if you visit this place regularly, you know I'm not shy about raising them. But as long as the Episcopal Church has the Anglican franchise in the United States, I do not feel myself at liberty to leave it, or to encourage anyone else to do so. I believe, as I have said several times, that the action taken last December by the Diocese of San Joaquin was ill-conceived and has caused harm on multiple levels. I deplore it.

That said, I support the right of these Anglican friends of mine to do what they did, and I hope they prevail in court. I hope the Episcopal Church--my church--loses in every venue of litigation in which it is currently engaged. We need a dose of humility.

Eamus Catuli

I have a fondness for Latin mottoes and aphorisms. I've always especially liked Nolite illegitimi contrere vos (the unofficial motto of my seminary alma mater when I ws a student there), though I hold in special regard that of the Boston Latin School: Sumus primus.

But Eamus Catuli is my new favorite. I won't tell you why just yet. We'll wait to see whether anyone can figure it out.

If the shoe fits...

Without planning to do so, I happened to catch Pope Benedict's address (on a "tape delay" of about three hours) last night at an ecumenical prayer service in New York City. It was incisive and compelling. Realizing that I suffer as much as anyone does from the endemic Episcopalian disease of thinking "this Church" more important than it actually is in the larger scheme of things, I could not escape the feeling that he was talking directly to us with these words:

Too often those who are not Christians, as they observe the splintering of Christian communities, are understandably confused about the Gospel message itself. Fundamental Christian beliefs and practices are sometimes changed within communities by so-called "prophetic actions" that are based on a hermeneutic not always consonant with the datum of Scripture and Tradition. Communities consequently give up the attempt to act as a unified body, choosing instead to function according to the idea of "local options". Somewhere in this process the need for diachronic koinonia - communion with the Church in every age - is lost, just at the time when the world is losing its bearings and needs a persuasive common witness to the saving power of the Gospel (cf. Rom 1:18-23).

And, a few moments later, with these:

My dear friends, the power of the kerygma has lost none of its internal dynamism. Yet we must ask ourselves whether its full force has not been attenuated by a relativistic approach to Christian doctrine similar to that found in secular ideologies, which, in alleging that science alone is "objective", relegate religion entirely to the subjective sphere of individual feeling. Scientific discoveries, and their application through human ingenuity, undoubtedly offer new possibilities for the betterment of humankind. This does not mean, however, that the "knowable" is limited to the empirically verifiable, nor religion restricted to the shifting realm of "personal experience".

Let those who have ears to hear, hear.

A Logical Inference

I catch some flak for continuing to bring up issues related to the Diocese of San Joaquin (in any of its 2.5 current incarnations). I can understand why. I'm getting rather tired of the subject myself. And while I am arguably a more-knowledgeable-than-average observer, I am certainly not disinterested. I have friends and former colleagues and former parishioners all over the map there (both literally and metaphorically), not abstractions, but real people whom I know and care about. Looking at it from afar, what has transpired still seems incredibly surreal, and I am in no small amount of grief over the dissolution of what, until a few months ago, was the fabric of my non-domestic life. It hurts. I have dreams about it.

Enough maudlin self-disclosure. How unbecoming. The serious reason why I continue to engage events emanating from what once was "the Episcopal Church in the central third of California" is that they are operate in a microcosm--a model, a laboratory--of the meta-conflict in North American and worldwide Anglicanism. What happens in San Joaquin, and what happens in the wake of what happens in San Joaquin, has wide ramifications, and eventually affects Anglicans everywhere.

The great majority of the diocese, including the Bishop and his staff, contend (and I mean here to pass no judgment on this contention, one way or the other) that they have seceded from the Episcopal Church and been joined to the Anglican Province of the Southern Cone. For the time being, at least, they have taken the real estate, buildings, and financial assets of the diocese and all but nine or ten of its congregations (eight that have remained with TEC, one gone to the AMiA, and one to this point undecided, as far as I know) with them.

In response, the Presiding Bishop has purported to depose Bishop John-David Schofield (declining to accept his resignation), but the deposition was (with no malice aforethought on anyone's part, I believe) thoroughly botched, and there is widespread question as to its canonical validity. In the process, she spurned the good faith overtures of the legitimately elected Standing Committee of the diocese and proceeded to call a special convention, which re-organized the Episcopal Diocese of San Joaquin, electing an interim Bishop, as well as a completely new Standing Committee and Diocesan Council, and rejecting out of hand the complaint of the one real member of the Standing Committee who attended the convention that he had never resigned his office nor acted in any way to abrogate his duties as a presbyter in the Episcopal Church.

All the while, Bishop Jefferts Schori, along with the entire 815 bureaucracy and many bishops, have cloaked themselves in the mantra that "individuals can leave the Episcopal Church, but dioceses and parishes cannot do so." What, then, do they contend happened on December 8, 2007? By their own rhetoric, one would have to surmise that what happened was that the great majority of the clergy of the diocese and the great majority of the elected lay delegates acted at the same time to leave the Episcopal Church ... as individuals, of course.

Leaving aside the obvious problems with such a claim, let us, for the sake of discussion, simply grant it. One would think that--simply for the sake of appearances, to say nothing of legal strategy--it would then be in 815's best interests to establish as much continuity as possible between the "new" DSJ--i.e. the one configured at the Lodi convention of March 29 of this year--and the "old" DSJ, that is, the one that was spun off as a Missionary District from the Diocese of California 97 years ago. One would think that it would be in the best interest of the Presiding Bishop and her counsel to be able to credibly say, "Several individuals have left, but the diocese remains. Look: We have retained eleven congregations, including the three largest ones, representing over half of the average Sunday attendance of the diocese. We have retained the most senior clergy, and six of the eight members of the Standing Committee, who have assured us that once Bishop Schofield resigns or is lawfully deposed, they will step in and perform their canonical duty. The Diocese of San Joaquin is still vital, diverse, and financially viable without any outside help."

The ability to say all of this was within 815's grasp. But, for reasons that I could only speculate about, they looked a Public Relations gift horse in the mouth and sent it packing. They rejected continuity, and chose instead to confect a new DSJ out of whole cloth, with only a little decorative embroidery from had come before. The fact that there is not the shred of a canonical basis for doing what they have done seems to count for nothing; what's new is new and what's done is done. The rule of law has been thrown under the bus of expediency.

The irony in all of this, and the actual point of this post, is that, in rejecting the path of maximum continuity, maximum numerical strength, and maximum credibility in the eyes a watching Anglican world, 815 has undercut its own Prime Directive that "only individuals can leave." By their actions in electing to start over from scratch, they have tacitly admitted that the Diocese of San Joaquin did, in fact, leave the Episcopal Church. Why else would they have taken such pains to invent a new one--a new one that is every bit as ideologically monochrome as they accuse the old one of being, a new one that has retained not even a vestige of institutional or administrative continuity with the old one, and a new one that is wholly dependent on 815's financial largesse and will, in effect, be a client diocese for as long as it is allowed to exist?

Apparently, dioceses can leave the Episcopal Church. One just did, and they made a new one to replace it.

A Quotable Quote

"For Christians who take I Peter seriously, the line on the application that asks for race ought to be filled in 'Christian.'"

From David L. Bartlett, professor at Yale Divinity School, in his commentary on the First Epistle of Peter for the New Interpreter's Bible. I ran across it in preparation for preaching this Sunday on the text that includes, "But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people, that you may declare the wonderful deeds of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were no people but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy but now you have received mercy. " (I Peter 2:9-10)

More Praise for Due Process

The inimitable House of Bishops/Deputies listserv, where I cut my teeth on cyber- "conversation" beginning almost six years ago now, has been continuing to chatter about the canonically-flawed procedure for the putative depositions from the ordained ministry last month of Bishops Cox and Schofield. In the name of synergy, I share here some of my own participation in that discourse:

At the risk of aggravating those who consider this thread a thoroughly beaten horse ... a response to some posts that I was not able to engage as they arrived because of “technical difficulties”:

Re [name deleted] and the notion of “harmless error”— Your point is apposite as concerns the substance of the issues itself. Since neither Bishop Cox nor Bishop Schofield wish to minister in TEC, there is no harm done at that level. If there were something like a Supreme Court in our church polity, I suspect they might deny any appeal for that very reason. But what I and others have been contending all along is that there is something much larger and more important at stake here, which is that, in a time of very high conflict levels, with trust between the ideological divisions within the church running at a low ebb, it is vital to avoid even the appearance of impropriety. There is hardly anyone—even including some very vocal “progressives”—who doesn’t think that the language of the relevant canon (IV.10) is, at the very least, unclear, and in need of amendment. There is a growing perception, now voiced by at least three Bishops with jurisdiction and two Standing Committees—that canonical due process was materially violated. This is like an abscessed tooth. The chances of it quieting down if ignored long enough are virtually nil. It very well may erupt at a most inopportune time. Better to take care of it now.

As for a proposed alternative course, I would respond, “What [another name deleted] said,” only raise him a level. I don’t think a telephone poll is a good enough response. It doesn’t address the root problem, which is that, technically, there was a valid vote on the question of deposing Bishop Schofield, and the motion failed. That question is therefore settled: He is not deposed, because the number of Aye votes was less than a majority of “the whole number...entitled to vote”. (This, BTW, is precisely what prevented the legitimate Standing Committee of San Joaquin from stepping in an assuming the role of Ecclesiastical Authority; I have it on good authority that they were within a hair-trigger of doing so when the procedural fiasco was revealed, preventing them from acting.) What the PB needs to do is invite the Title IV Review Committee to provide a finding of abandonment with a fresh date (this should not be too difficult), get the three Seniors to consent to an inhibition, serve said inhibition, and bring the matter before the September HOB meeting in Utah, with the understanding of the level of consent needed for a valid deposition. The case of Bishop Cox is more complicated, because the PB neglected her canonical duty of inhibiting him before brining the question before the House, so there was no valid vote, whatever the outcome. So, once again, we need a fresh finding from the Review Committee (a five-minute conference call should suffice), and then the whole rest of the process. Yes, this sounds fastidious to an onerous degree. But nothing other than this course of action will serve to restore trust that the leaders of this Church are committed to abiding by the rules of this Church. Anything less will only hasten the political meltdown that we are in the middle of.