Why be an Episcopalian? Ask Our Presiding Bishop...

Looking Into the Eyes of Christ

"You have heard some say, 'We don't need those people.' Well, Jesus is one of those people, and that is a great part of what it means for God to walk among us in human flesh." - Rt. Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori, Address at Trinity University, July 8, 2008

In this second day of considering how to live up to the standard set by Jesus and become more involved in reaching out to our fellow man, this second quote from the Presiding Bishop hit me like a thunderbolt.

"Jesus is one of those people." A carpenter from the poor town of Nazareth who wandered around with twelve men, living among the fringes of early-1st century society, shunning any sort of wealth, living wherever he was welcomed - wherever he could find a place to sleep - wherever he could find a meal. In reading this quote, though, I don't wonder if the bishop hasn't put the emphasis on the wrong word.

Read it her way again. Now, read it this way: "Jesus is one of those people." The first way, a statement of condescension; the second, a surprising statement of fact.

In the past, as I've walked by those who sit in doorways, beg on street corners, drag their possessions up and down the sidewalks of the city - not knowing where they came from and really not caring where they are headed - I tend to not look. I glance away not because of nerves or a need to shut out the problem, but rather because a certain amount of cynicism has built up over the years: the man who came up to me to borrow money because his truck had broken down and he couldn't get home from work, only to approach me the very next day with the very same story before suddenly realizing I had heard it all before; the one who asked for money for a meal only to walk instead into the package story for a bottle of liquor; the stories in the paper of young girls who live under bridges and who trade sex for drugs. Each of these people needs help, but I can't do it all alone and I was frustrated with the results when I did.

In today's economy, though, things have changed - and have changed dramatically. No longer do you look into the eyes of a man or woman huddled in a doorway and simply see the alcohol-riddled shell of a person, or a runaway, or a person looking for their next fix. Instead, you now look into the eyes of an engineer who has been laid off, burned through his savings, and lost his home. You look into the eyes of a young mother with three children who doesn't know how she will find their next meal. You look into the eyes of an older professional who lost everything as a result of shady hedge funds and crooked brokers and who is too proud to ask for help.

The eyes of the people you see on the street now are far different and tell far more stories than simply the tales of drug addiction or drunkenness. The group of people crying out for help through their stares and sad glances is far broader than we in this country should ever have allowed.

Their faces are the face of the suffering Christ, the rejected and scorned Christ, the crucified Christ. The Christ who on Friday had no hope. It is up to us to help these people with the transition to the Sunday miracle. Can any of us do it alone? Of course not - but the bishop's words are a stark reminder that we need to try, for every face you see is a creation of God and is in the image of God. Peter denied Jesus three times and was still forgiven; how many more times must we deny those in need?

No longer is it enough for me to tithe and contribute to charities and go merrily on my way. I need to get involved, and show my daughters the true value of helping their neighbor and the true worth in every man, woman and child.

We have Millenium Development Goals - not Millenium Development Hopes. It's up to each of us to reach those goals and - again - live into the full stature of Christ.

A Crisis of Faith

Now that the title has grabbed your attention, I'll clarify and say that the crisis of faith - my faith - isn't with the having of faith. No, the crisis is of living out my faith in the world.

As someone who has been actively involved in the life of the last three churches I've attended - as a vestry member, a former youth leader, and a person keenly interested in organizing exciting and thought-provoking events and speakers - I'm always one of the ones encouraging others in the congregation to live outside the four walls of the church and to engage in the larger community. I once read that the people in the church aren't the ones who need help, but it's the ones outside the church who are in need; as such, I think it's important that congregations get more involved in the life of the larger area they serve.

Suggesting that people become more involved and actually becoming more involved are two different things, however, and I have fallen far short of realizing the mission that I'm encouraging others to undertake. In doing this, I'm also falling short of what it means to be an Episcopalian and a Christian.

In an address to the Urban Caucus in February 2007, Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori talked at length about what we as Christians are tasked to do in the world. As she said, "That vision of a healed and restored world is what you and I are charged with being and doing in this world ... Jesus himself acts out those images in feeding the multitudes, healing the sick and urging the people around them to feed them and restore them to community ... The Millenium Development Goals are a contemporary illustration of the work that Jesus did himself - and of the work to which he continues to call his followers ... We would do well to recall that we cannot love God whom we do not see if we do not love our neighbors who we do see. The world is not reconciled as long as some live without - without food, good news, adequate housing, peace, clothing or justice ... The work of this church is to build a world of shalom ... adequate food, drink, housing, employment, health care, education, equality, and the peace that only comes when justice is present and available to all."

I talk a lot about what I see wrong in the world and what I think should be done to fix it. Jesus, however, didn't talk - he acted. If I don't start acting, I will never - as the Presiding Bishop wrote - live into the full stature of Christ. So why don't I act?

At this stage in my life, my mind (politics) and my heart (faith) are really coming into conflict with each other. As I wrote a few months back on this blog, my position on the death penalty changed when my belief that everyone should receive a New Testament forgiveness (heart) superceded - after much internal debate - my desire for harsh, Old Testament punishment (mind). Many of my friends and I have debated the current health care reform efforts in Congress, and I am torn between my belief that everyone should have health care coverage (heart) with the belief that the government shouldn't be the body responsible for running the program (mind). I am conflicted about the fact that something should be done to end world hunger, disease, and poverty (heart) versus the thought that we shouldn't leave it up to organizations like the United Nations (mind).

Does this make me a flawed Christian? Of course; there is no perfect Christian. Is it too late to change and become more actively involved? Of course not; it's never too late. But as I blogged quite a while back, there's a certain amount of cynicism that I must overcome - especially when it comes to confronting those on the street who approach me for help. It's easy to help those you don't see - the food banks and homeless shelters that solicit through the mail and receive assistance through my tithes at church. The difficulty comes in helping those right in front of you, and that's undoubtedly where I need help.

Again, I turned to the Presiding Bishop's words: "Give to everyone who begs from you, and lend expecting nothing in return ... none of what we have is really ours; it belongs to God and we are only stewards ... Don't give anything with strings attached, for those strings are a kind of shackle that binds the receiver and the giver. Give freely, and set the other free in turn."

All of this can actually be summed up as a series of two questions presented to us during the homily of a mid-day Eucharist I attended earlier today: “What is it that makes God concrete for you? What do you do to make God concrete for others?”

What makes God concrete for me is simple: my family, my friends, my health, and the activities in which I'm involved. But I have a long way to go if I'm going to make God concrete for others - and become a better, more effective Christian in the process.

Lambeth Conference is Just Around the Corner

The once-a-decade gathering of nearly 800 bishops of the Anglican Communion, the Lambeth Conference, is only about eight weeks away, and I've been thinking for many days now about how the global Anglican family will look at the end of the 14-day event. The picture I've chosen to include with today's post, a photo of several of the bishops in attendance at the 1998 conference, displays a great deal of warmth and good humor that I feel is going to be missing this year.

The biggest cause for concern for many, as I've touched on in a few posts over the past few years, is the 2003 election of Gene Robinson as bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of New Hampshire (an election I supported of a priest that I support). Before that had even completely sunk in on folks, the Episcopal Church elected Katharine Jefferts Schori as the first female presiding bishop (another election and another priest I support). I've been very proud of the church for some of the actions it has taken in recent years, and in the process have discovered that have a much more moderate-to-liberal view of events in the ECUSA than I had ever realized -- something that I think would have shocked my late friend Sheldon Vanauaken, who once told me in a letter that had Jack Spong (another bishop who has opened my eyes to a lot in the church) been Catholic, he would have excommunicated. No telling what he would think of my opinion on recent events!

In looking at the official website for the Lambeth Conference, I was immediately struck by the opening paragraph on the main page: "The Lambeth Conference is one of the global Anglican Communion's Instruments of Communion. It takes place every ten years at the invitation of the Archbishop of Canterbury. It is the one occasion when all bishops can meet for worship, study and conversation. Archbishops, diocesan, assistant and suffragan bishops are invited." The implication here is that the Archbishop invites ALL bishops to attend every ten years for a variety of educational and spiritual events -- and yet this year, he has opted to dis-invite Gene because of the ongoing controversy resulting from his election. What he didn't do, however, is dis-invite anyone else involved in the dispute -- such as Archbishop Peter Akinola, head of the diocese that many of the breakaway parishes here in the U.S. have joined -- and will stand by and watch instead as Akinola and a group of other bishops stage a boycott of the conference.

So let's recap: Rowan Williams would rather keep one duly elected member of the House of Bishops away from a conference that by all rights associated with his position he should be able to attend, so that he can avoid a larger protest by a group of fringe bishops who are going to be boycotting Lambeth whether Gene is there or not.

And the logic in this would be where?

As I've heard Desmond Tutu say many times (and I've paraphrased here), it's astounding that the church has so completely lost sight of its mission in the world and is more concerned about who is living with who rather than who is feeding the poor, sheltering the homeless, clothing the naked, and loving those who feel unloved and neglected. And in addition to all of this, what really pains me is the fact that I can no longer drive by some of the grand old parishes here in Northern Virginia and see what I used to see -- old, historic roots of the churh in this country; instead, I look at places like the Falls Church and only see a brick building that, instead of a church, is now merely an object in a court battle, and what was once a home to a great congregation that has now been torn apart at the seams.

In the all the reading I've done over the past several years as things within the Anglican Communion have gotten rockier, it seems that I've found that people are letting the media drive the story and overplay that we are all losing sight of the big goal of trying to keep the communion together. No, I'm not saying that folks are avoiding the issue; I know there are countless people who pray daily that a resolution can be found so that the church can be held together, or short of that at least be healed. Court battles, amicus briefs, and the "join this diocese -- our bishop isn't an abomination" statements are everywhere, and all I seem to see Rowan doing is trying to keep the extreme ends of the argument happy (or is the correct word pacified?) without paying much attention at all to what the middle wants: peace and unity.

Peace and unity -- two words that I fear won't be the end result of this conference. Gene will still be in England, preaching and lecturing in whatever churches welcome him; Spong and Tutu will be at Lambeth, fighting the good fight and working with their brother and sister bishops to keep the communion together.

And in the meantime, I'll continue driving by a church building that should be a welcoming sight, but right now comes more and more to represent intolerance, fear, and a judgemental attitude towards a group -- a bishop -- that they refuse to accept. I suppose the next step will be removing the sign that says "The Episcopal Church welcomes you;" for many, "This Episcopal Church may welcome some of you" is much more accurate.

Lambeth may end with a photograph of smiling bishops -- but will God be smiling?

Response from the Presiding Bishop

Following the election of Katharine Jefferts Schori as the newest presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church of the United States, several dioceses announced their intent to request "alternative primatial oversight" from the Archbishop of Canterbury. Others have gone a step further, announcing that they would be leaving the church altogether and aligning with other Anglican communions -- particularly the 9-million member Anglican Church of Uganda. The bishop has made clear her feelings of sadness over the course the Episcopal church has taken in recent years -- with schism continuing to be a very real possibility -- and I was curious to see how she would begin to address the bishops who were seeking other oversight or a move out of the church altogether.

The Diocese of San Joaquin, California, is one that has drawn a great deal of attention during this time, as it was one of the earliest to announce its intention of joining with the Ugandan communion. In the short term, it will be a painful split, and will undoubtedly result in a great deal of pain and a great deal of anger for thousands of California Episcopalians; in the long term, there will be long and difficult court cases over the ownership of church property and funds. I've been curious as to how the presiding bishop would address this issue -- and this letter that she just sent to the bishop of San Joaquin I think makes clear that -- as a pastor -- she will continue to seek a reconciliation for the church. However, as an administrator with responsibilities to the whole Episcopal church, she gives no sign of backing down from the fight.

"San Joaquin bishop sent letter from presiding bishop" -- Episcopal News Service, November 20, 2006

The Episcopal Church - A Historic Time

Once again, the Episcopal church is breaking new ground, this time with the election of the Rt. Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori, bishop of Nevada, as its 26th presiding bishop. It's remarkable how far the role of women in the church has progressed in the past three decades; Jack Spong did a fine job in his autobiography of outlining the process through several general conventions of finally permitting women to seek positions in the ordained priesthood. Then -- as now -- there are many individuals who think that women shouldn't be allowed to don clerical attire and preach from the pulpit, let alone be the highest official of the denomination in the United States.

I know the months ahead will be difficult as those groups who were having a difficult time coming to terms with either the confirmation of Gene Robinson's bishopric in New Hampshire or the increasing role of women in the church grapple with this latest event. Already, within minutes of the announcement of Bishop Schori's election, several diocesan representatives labeled her choice a grave mistake and one that will further damage the church internally and in its relationship with the mother church in England.

The difficult decisions aren't over just yet, and more will be made during the final days of General Convention that will also have a tremendous impact on the future of the church. The one I am watching most closely is the resolution introduced (and being strongly supported by the Archbishop of Canterbury) which, if passed, would require the church to formally issue a statement of regret over their actions of three years ago. In my mind, we have done nothing to regret -- and a move to disavow decisions already made would take the church back further than just the 2003 General Convention.

But with Bishop Schori, I am particularly excited about what her election means for my daughter's life in the church in the years ahead. More and more during the course of my life, I have watched as women have taken more important leadership roles in the life of individual parishes, dioceses, and the national church. I never want my little one to grow up thinking that she can't do anything simply because of her sex, and I know my wife and I will make sure she knows all about the women who have succeeded in business, industry, politics, education, and any number of other areas.

More important than any of those areas, however, she will know that she has a place where she can do whatever she wants in the church: member of the vestry, committee chairperson, convention delegate, deacon, priest, bishop -- and yes, even the presiding bishop.