It’s ironic that, the day after we had a very pleasant dinner party with several folks from our parish (the monthly “Hungry Flock” group who had to be postponed a week because of my illness), I read about another “dinner party” being stood up, as Abp Akinola of Nigeria explains to some Church of England evangelicals why his block of African provinces won’t be attending Lambeth.
Now, for those not in the Anglican/Episcopal Know, Lambeth isn’t just a business conference or something. It’s a three-week gathering of the bishops of the Anglican Communion, with their spouses, at the personal invitation of the Archbishop of Canterbury, to meet and pray and talk and, well, draw closer as a family. They talk and try to discern and teach, but the “legislation” bit is insubstantial (and a lot dodgier) than the fellowship aspect. It’s a combination of a retreat and Thanksgiving — not a command performance or a congress, but a coming together. A communion, in many ways.
And Abp Akinola has made it clear that he and his don’t want to play any more — primarily, it seems, because Canterbury and most of the Anglican primates haven’t slapped down the Episcopal Church (or the Canadians, for that matter) for ordaining a gay bishop (excuse me, for ordaining an openly gay bishop). Indeed, there might be gay cooties in the air there.
They don’t feel they can sit at table with people with whom they disagree or even disapprove of. They see no value in it, and makes them uncomfortable. And, after all, it’s not like Jesus made a point of sitting at table with folks with whom he disagreed …
That’s okay, though. Sad, but okay. Hopefully it’s one of the final chapters in this long (but remarkably swift) breakup of the Anglican Communion. Abp Akinola can go on his way with his fellow “orthodox” and found whatever sort of organization they want. And the rest of us will simply get back to muddling along with, you know, important things. The bishops (those who want to go) can get together at Lambeth, hopefully resolve some differences (or learn to get along again), and the stuff the church should be spending time and attention on — feeding the poor, clothing the naked, comforting the afflicted, etc. — can be gotten back to.
Sometimes Thanksgiving is a bit easier, and a bit nicer, when the crazy, rude, racist, drunken uncle decides not to show up. A bit sad, but a bit of a relief.
Our Canadian Anglicans are also fracturing. Here it’s over the issue of gay marriage. Some congregations are leaving the Canadian communion to move to more conservative branches of the church.
I do hope reconciliation is possible. As you say, churches can be major forces for good. Heaven knows there’s no such thing as a surfeit of kindness and now, as the North American economy slows, there will be more and more marginal folks who will be caught in the financial undertow.
Can time heal this fracture? I hope so. I remember the huge brouhaha when women were ordained as Anglican priests in Canada–again the more conservative branches of the church were outraged, but now, a generation later, it’s accepted.
Agreed. I’ve been saying for a while now “Go in peace, but leave the plate.” All the discord is such a huge turnoff to people who have no inkling of all the undercurrents, but who feel the need to check out “a church” (not just an Episcopalian church, they’re looking for a community, not a brand).
Neither strand of Episcopalian/Anglican belief can really grow if we’re wasting time and effort and money on conflict. We’ve grown apart spiritually, and maybe we should admit we need to grow apart, period.
Marn, that’s the genesis, ostensibly, of the current conflict within the Episcopal Church and between TEC more conservative elements in the Anglican Communion. Interestingly, the “accepted” issue of women’s ordination is resurgently visible here, too — the more conservative Anglican provinces (e.g., Abp Akinola’s Nigeria, the Province of the Southern Cone) and American dioceses (e.g., Dallas) have never accepted or allowed women’s ordination. Many of the defecting individuals, parishes, and the (sole) diocese that has left have aligned with provinces that don’t recognize ordination of women.
To think this is is solely about the ordination of gays, or the blessing of their relationships, is to only see part of the picture, alas.
(I’ll leave it as an exercise for the reader to consider how some of these “women shouldn’t be ordained priests, let alone bishops” react to the Episcopal Church selecting a woman as their Presiding Bishop. As a small indicator, consider how many of the more conservative Anglican sites refer to her as “Mrs. Jefferts Schori.”)
Ginny, my one concern over dwelling so much on such matters here (aside from it being spiritually unhealthy for me to continue to ponder such unkind thoughts about certain individuals) is that it makes it seem like the internal political brouhaha is the only or most important thing there is to think about the Episcopal Church. It’s not, but I have no doubt that there are four dynamics at work:
1. People leaving TEC because they don’t agree with its direction. (This has been a small number, but a vocal one.)
2. People leaving TEC because they’re tired of all the brouhaha and want to go someplace simpler and less troubled. (I don’t think this is a large number, but it’s hard to tell.)
3. People who don’t come to TEC (vs another denomination) because of all the “troubles” (impossible to tell how many this is).
4. People who are drawn to TEC because of the principled stand it is (slowly) taking on the subject of inclusion of gays in our community. (I know there are some of these just anecdotally, but I have no idea of the numbers.)
As for those who are leaving, even if they are leaving as the majority of the parish, it’s not their darned property to take with them, any more than if they were leaving individually they’d have the “right” to take a pew, or a few prayer books, to make up for all their donations.
If, for some reason, my own parish became a place I felt I had to leave, I wouldn’t treat the money I had given to it as having been cheated from me, or feel I was entitled to get something material back for it. I gave the money for God and in pursuance (I hoped) of God’s work, not so that I had partial ownership of it, like an “indivisible” portion of ownership in a condo complex’s common property.