There have been times when my kids have not gotten invited
to their friends’ birthday parties.
Either I hear about it from another parent or they find out about the
missed event from someone else, and there is sadness and pain. As a parent I wonder if I should do more to
smooth the way for them, initiate more play dates or encourage them more as
they build friendships. Then the insult passes, and then they hit each other
with foam swords or talk about their minecraft creations and the world is
restored again, just a little less stable than it was, but restored nonetheless.
Since Bishop Gene Robinson was elected bishop of New
Hampshire in 2003, there have been a lot of foam swords swung around in the
global church (There were, to be sure, lots swung before that, mostly around
women’s ordination). Last summer’s national church vote to amend the marriage
canon to include same gender marriage was hope and joy and wonder. We have plenty of distance to travel for ending
discrimination, but we have decided, collectively, that we are finished arguing
about equal marriage in the life of the Episcopal Church based in the US. Finis.
So now, the international meeting of heads of Anglican
Churches—primates—have voted to suspend us for three years for having done so. Honestly, the thought occurred to me to be
surprised at the fact that it hadn’t happened earlier. We have had times of “fasting” and not making more publicly LGBTQ bishops, in
attempting to please the self-appointed orthodox (whether those were conformed
to because of accident or intention is another question). Throughout the last 13 years, the global
church has continually gone neither as far as the far right would prefer nor as
far as the far left would prefer. It’s
been very Anglican. Via media, etc.
Even this time, Bishop Ntagali of Uganda left the Primates meeting early
because he was angry that the Episcopal Church wasn’t being kicked out
completely.
Here’s the thing.
The Anglican Communion, as an institutional body, has more
in common with the structure of parents mediating birthday parties than, for example,
Congress and the President. Many of the primates
are not democratically elected by their whole church. The primates themselves
represent their individual churches, but as “first among equals,” not as
enforcers who can make anyone do anything. Obviously how that’s lived out in
different places varies. The word
“Episcopal” means that our church is overseen by bishops. Who oversees the
bishops? Well, they’re all sitting next to each other at a table. The
Archbishop of Canterbury is at the head of the table, but he’s still just one
person sitting at the table. Unlike the
President and Congress, he doesn’t have veto power over what the bishops might
want to do individually. Bishop Gates
can tell me how I can function as a priest, but Bishop Curry, Presiding Bishop/ Primate of the Episcopal Church can’t
dictate how Bishop Gates functions as a bishop.
Bishop Gates sits at Presiding Bishop Curry’s table and he sits at the
Archbishop of Canterbury’s table.
Still, it’s sad. Almost
8 years ago, St Peter’s Anglican Church of Uganda came to worship at my parish,
Christ Church. While I have never felt like we are singlehandedly holding the
Anglican Communion together, it has been important to me that we are sure that
we are one Body of Christ, even if there are things we might disagree
about. Five years after they came, I
traveled to Uganda and Tanzania with Bishop Shaw (that’s when I started this
blog). I was actually in Kampala, Uganda
on the day the Archbishop of Uganda was consecrated, along with Tom Shaw,
himself a gay bishop (however celibate, being a monk and all). We were wrapping up our visit with the Bishop
Masereka Christian Foundation, where we learned about their work in Kasese,
with AIDS prevention, maternal health, and children’s education. There were
more important things on the table than human sexuality.
What binds us together?
The communion of saints. The Prayer Book. Shared history. Kind of like minecraft and foam swords. We are in relationship with each other
because we are in relationship with each other. Neither the primates’
gatherings nor the Archbishop of Canterbury were ever constructed as dogmatic
doctrine-creating bodies. That’s not what they’re for. They’re built for relationship. That’s it. And
there are a lot of ways to be in relationship. My time in Uganda was amazing
and transcendent, I’m embarrassed that I haven’t kept the connections made on
that trip more strongly. I do think
that on Sunday I might stay late at Church to pray with St Peter’s, for whom
debates like this are closer to home.
Being suspended is sad, but not tragic. Gay teenagers getting kicked out of their
homes by their parents? That’s
tragic. The murder of transpeople
because of their gender expression? That’s tragic. Respecting the dignity of
every human being, as we say in the baptismal covenant, to me means honoring
LGBTQ persons at every level of the church. The humanity of all God’s people is
not up for debate. It’s just not, and clearly, it’s “worth” whatever
institutional penalty could be imposed. Can we actually be kicked out of the
Anglican Communion? Maybe, maybe not. If the bishops who voted the suspension
think that we’re going to amend our gay-loving lifestyles in three years, they
are clearly wrong. And if that means that we can’t go to the meetings, okay.
But I am still part of a global family of churches that draw our lineage to the
English Reformation, and I will still have a strange loyalty to the Book of
Common Prayer, even though we print everything in a single leaflet at my church
and almost never open the book itself.
This Sunday, I’ll preach the wedding at Cana: abundance and
transformation and celebration and miracle. I may even preach about weddings: the joining
of two persons (of any gender) in love and faithfulness. I’ll preach, too, about hope, that Jesus
Christ who brought us into his body is strong enough to manage when we are
struggling, and always gives us more than we dared ask for.
