Tuesday, May 21, 2019

Old Things Made New Chapter Two

CHAPTER 2 WORSHIP IN THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH Christians accustomed to more reformed Protestant denominations are often a bit bewildered upon straying into an Episcopal worship service, even a wedding or a funeral. They may recognize few if any hymns. They have difficulty with the “Episcopal aerobics” of standing, kneeling, and sitting. Our book juggling, with prayer book, hymnal, and a sheaf of bulletin pages with inserts, also challenges Protestants, who aren’t accustomed to working so hard in worship. “I don’t see how anyone could get a nap in your church,” lamented one. (Some people do manage.) In recent years, a good deal of diversity has crept into Episcopal worship. You might find anything from a medieval-style, Pontifical high mass in a stone Gothic church with magnificent stained glass windows and mighty pipe organ, to simple, vestment-less celebration in a store-front, with guitar-led, renewal-style singing. We probably should expect even more such variety in the decade or so to come. Even so, we would hope that in any Episcopal church, every visitor would notice several characteristics of Anglican worship that would be identifying markers of our worship anywhere in the world. When the liturgy is done properly, all of these elements should be clearly in place. Use of the Book of Common Prayer, or other approved forms (we have some supplemental liturgies now), means that our worship text is relatively uniform, predictable, and of high quality. Though we now have multiple choices for worship forms, and the prayer books of other national churches vary in details, they are all similar and contain the same elements. This means that Anglicans the world over pray together in pretty much the same way—in common prayer. It also means that we are not at the mercy of our clergy to determine what we pray for and how we pray. And it means that our prayers are composed as carefully and as beautifully as our best writers know how. Anglican worship is orderly. Some would say “formal,” but that need not mean stuffy, as in a stilted dinner party; rather we mean that things happen in a particular order and at an appointed time. The prayer book tradition is biblically centered. Whereas in some Protestant services, the sermon text would be the only scripture read, in our liturgical tradition, it is customary to read an Old Testament lesson, an Epistle reading, and a Gospel passage, with at least one Psalm—in a planned cycle, so that most of the scripture is read in church during a three-year period. For celebrating Eucharist at any

Saturday, May 18, 2019

Old Things Made New Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE: WHAT MAKES THE CHURCH “EPISCOPAL”? A first-time Catholic visitor to an Episcopal Sunday Eucharist might ask, “Are you SURE this is not a Catholic church?” It can look, sound, and feel very similar to the Roman Catholic mass—so long as the clergy are not female! And a first-time Lutheran visitor (ELCA) might well comment, “This is just like my Lutheran church back home!” Worship in the three communions today has many similarities. (Upon careful observation, there are also some noteworthy differences among them.) But a first-time visitor accustomed to any of the dozens of much more radically reformed, Evangelical, Fundamentalist, Holiness, or Pentecostal denominations would more likely be a bit taken aback, whether favorably impressed or put off, from all the contrasts with their previous worship experiences. That visitor would be struck by the orderliness (they might say “formality”) of the worship; perhaps disconcerted by people reading prayers from a book or worship folder (“by rote”); bemused by the vestments worn; confused by the bowing and hand gesturing that can be part of liturgical worship; and perplexed by the lack of familiarity of some of the music sung. (More on Episcopal Church worship follows in Chapter 2.) What does all this mean, the visitor from either direction might wonder? Just what IS an Episcopal Church, anyway? What sets it apart from any other denomination, and how is it connected to Christianity as a whole? Familiarity with just a few principles can go a long way toward clarifying those questions. THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH IS AN ANGLICAN CHURCH The Episcopal Church is simply the American branch of the world-wide Anglican communion of Christian churches. We are derived from the Church of England, which was the established church in several of the American colonies at the time of the Revolution. Since the Church of England is a national church, with the head of state as head of the church, the creation of a new nation, with leaders who might or might not be church members, presented a challenge to the continuation of this form of Christian practice. How could there be an Anglican Church with no king and, at the time, no bishops, and how could it be funded and supported without government backing? It took some time and creative thinking to get around those historic obstacles. As there was to be no established church in the United States, and Americans were very clear about being no longer English, Anglicans had to come up with another name, and we were legally incorporated as The Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America. The key word “Episcopal” reveals that they did find a way to provide bishops for their new independent church. Like all Anglican provinces, we continue the ancient practice of administration and governance largely by bishops (episcopos means “bishop” in Greek). “Protestant” set us apart from the Roman Catholic and the Orthodox Churches, which also have bishops, and it suited the spirit of the church in those times. So The Episcopal Church was formed originally as a Protestant denomination and as a national church. Times change. Today, we have a province of our church that is outside the borders of the United States, yet fully part of The Episcopal Church, and largely Spanish-speaking. We are working hard to get our members not to say “the national church” when they refer to central church leadership—a tough habit to break! Additionally, when our present Book of Common Prayer was adopted in 1979, it dropped the word “Protestant” from its title, probably as a response to the great strides in our direction the Roman Catholic Church had taken in its Second Vatican Council. Not everyone agrees with us, but we like to think of ourselves as being as much catholic as protestant. Let’s get something straightened out right away concerning the term “Episcopal.” It is an adjective! Therefore, one might belong to the “Episcopal Church,” but one can never be “an Episcopal.” When we need a noun, we have the form “Episcopalian.” So one may be “an Episcopalian,” but—ill-informed news media reporting notwithstanding —one may never attend “the Episcopalian Church”! Mastering this little trick of grammar is probably the most effective way to demonstrate “insider” lingo in our church. “Anglican” refers to anything, but particularly the church, of English origins (from the Teutonic tribe, the Angles. “Angle-land” evolved into “England.”) Everywhere British people went establishing colonies, their church went with them, first to serve the religious needs of the British colonials, and secondly to carry out evangelism among the various indigenous peoples. The German, Dutch, Scandinavian, and various Catholic nations did the same, planting their own brands of Christianity around the globe. When these British colonies gained their independence, the church people there formed independent national churches just as we had done. In some branches, such as Scotland, where the terms “English” or “Anglican” set less well with the people, they used our term “Episcopal,” as in “The Episcopal Church of Scotland.” In most, where the mother country was more highly esteemed, the word “Anglican” is used, as in “The Anglican Church of Canada.” India has a unique situation in forming two ecumenical bodies, the United Churches of North and South India, which are in the Anglican Communion, though they include other strains of Christianity as well. Japan, having never been a colony, has an Anglican church called Nippon Sei Ko Kai, or “The Holy Catholic Church of Japan.” What all share in common is being in communion with the See of Canterbury, and therefore with one another as part of the Anglican Communion of churches. Together, we are the third largest such body of Christians in the world, following the Roman Catholics and the Orthodox. THE “BRIDGE CHURCH”—CATHOLIC AND REFORMED Since we Anglicans do not owe our founding to a premier theologian, such as Luther or Calvin, we have no body of original theological documents to stake out a definitive position for us. In The Episcopal Church, you will find many different views on most subjects, mostly, but not always, held in relative harmony. We tend not only to believe in individual freedom of conscience, but to practice it as well. For that reason, everything written in these chapters might well be disputed by another Episcopal priest, bishop, historian, or theologian, who would prefer to present a different view. What is being attempted here is to present a portrait of the Episcopal Church that would be recognized as authentic by most of our fellow church members! At the heart of it, we Episcopalians are simply Christians—that is our religion. We often pride ourselves on our broad-mindedness, our tolerance of diversity, our willingness to live with a high level of ambiguity, for we are not inclined to precise definition of holy mysteries. This attitude is hard-learned, for there was a time when people were persecuted and sometimes slaughtered because of their non-conformist views. We have finally learned at least to stop killing one another when we disagree. We still argue strenuously among ourselves, though, mostly over the very same issues that provoke other Christians as well. From conflict, no Christian body is ever fully insulated. We have a deep affection and personal preference for our tradition and its particular representation of the Christian religion, but we do not think that ours is the only one, or that it will get us into Heaven more dependably than the others. We have never claimed to be either the only true Christians, or the only truly correct ones. There is not one single article of our faith that would not also be shared by other Christian bodies, some by Catholics, some by Protestants. That fact may not be the best marketing ploy in the world; it certainly keeps us from being very effective recruiters of Christians from other denominations (which we don’t believe we should be doing, anyway). It just happens to be our true belief. Nevertheless, the same ideas and principles that prompted Luther and others to dispute with Rome were also current in England during the sixteenth century. (We will have a full chapter on the history of the Church in England later, because so much of our thinking and behavior are best understood by looking at our story.) Once the power of the Vatican was broken in England, some practices of the church were altered in response to the criticisms of the Protestants. These are set out in the sections which follow. Yet, the English also valued traditions and, for the most part, had little interest in a reformation that would essentially attempt to start the church all over again from the first century. They retained many Catholic practices, and others have been restored over the years: some Latin terminology; our use (in many places) of vestments, incense, bells, holy water, private confession; our emphasis on the sacraments; our liturgical worship; our three orders of ordained clergy; our monastic houses for both men and women—all of these seem very Catholic. Gradually, a middle ground was marked off for the Anglican tradition, a via media between Rome and the spectrum of more radically reformed factions. Because of our peculiar “half-reformed” nature, we have sometimes been referred to as “the bridge church,” including some Catholic traits, some Protestant. So, in the end, there is a set of positions and theological principles which, taken together, express truly an Anglican position. THE FIRST PRINCIPLE OF ANGLICANISM: “THE BIBLE CONTAINS ‘ALL THINGS NECESSARY FOR SALVATION’” It seems very odd today, but the separation of the church from Rome’s control was first accomplished by action of the English Parliament, at the behest of the King and his advisors. Later, in order to help define the extent of the Reformation in England, Parliament also passed The [Thirty-Nine] “Articles of Religion,” which you will find among some historical documents of the church in the Book of Common Prayer on page 867. Most of these are statements against either a Roman doctrine or an equally objectionable Protestant extreme. For example, they denounce the Catholic doctrines of Purgatory and Transubstantiation, but they also condemn Calvin’s doctrine of Double Predestination and the Anabaptists’ demand for adult-only, “believers’” baptism. There is an important Protestant principle involved in all of these Articles, which is enunciated in Article XX. This principle is worth noting carefully, for it continues to guide our deliberations to the present day: The Bible contains “all things necessary for salvation.” On this basis, the Church not only eliminated the requirement to believe in Purgatory, Transubstantiation, Limbo, the Immaculate Conception, the sale of pardons, indulgences, masses for the dead, and any special intercessory role for the Virgin Mary, but it also justified its own disavowal of Papal authority, and the requirement for clergy to remain celibate. The issues of Papal Infallibility and the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary are two Roman Catholic doctrines that have been promulgated since our separation, but they would fall in the same category. Note that, whereas the Bible contains all things necessary for salvation, that does not mean that it contains all things, or even all true things. There is plenty of room for science and for new discoveries. We allow that there are many things that are true and worthy to be believed that are not mentioned in Holy Scripture. They just aren’t necessary for salvation. Therefore, an Episcopalian may believe in Purgatory if he wants to; he just may not accurately say that Episcopal doctrine requires that belief for one to get into Heaven! Despite these reforms, the English Reformation remained a moderate one. A number of traditions accumulated over the centuries were retained on the grounds that the Bible does not preclude them. When the Bible is silent or ambiguous on a subject, we have judged that it is permissible for us to continue to act according to medieval tradition, or to work out new traditions. THE ANGLICAN SOLUTION TO AUTHORITY: “THE THREE-LEGGED STOOL” The historic Church, both Orthodox and Catholic, has laid its claim to authority on the twin pillars of the Bible and the Apostolic Tradition. The Bible is our Holy Scripture, the main sourcebook of all revealed truth in our religion. For both Catholics and Orthodox, that means the Old Testament as it appeared in the form of the Septuagint (in original Greek for the Orthodox of the east, translated into Latin called the Vulgate for the Catholics of the western church; we’ll have more on the formation of the Bible in a later chapter). The Tradition is the teaching of Christ as handed down generation to generation from the Apostles themselves, without corruption (The Magisterium in Vatican parlance). The Orthodox are particular sticklers for avoiding any change whatsoever, since the completion of the Ecumenical Councils. For Rome, the one authoritative interpreter of both the scripture and the tradition is the Bishop of Rome, sometimes called the Vicar of Christ, the Pope. Rome allows for some evolution in teaching, as long as it comes from the Pontiff and does not contradict the major apostolic teachings. It is the exclusive papal claim to interpretive and administrative authority which caused the Eastern Patriarchs to break communion with the West in the eleventh century, and which Martin Luther and other Protestants challenged in the sixteenth century. For Protestantism, authority rests on one pillar alone. When Luther’s opponents asked him whom or what he would set up as the final authority in place of the Pope, he responded famously, “Sola Scriptura, Scriptura sola.” (“Only Scripture, Scripture alone.”) That means that the Bible is the one and only source of all religious authority for him, and for all Protestants. A symbolic evidence of this fact is that at the front and center of a great many Protestant congregations’ worship space, you will find, not a cross or an altar, but a large, open Bible, the “enthroned Word of God.” Anglicans had to decide which way to go. As traditionalists, they were reluctant to take any radical step away from fifteen hundred years of Christian practice. They did not want to defer to the individual power of a pope, Roman or English. Yet, the Orthodox rigidity would not suit them, either; they were also Westerners in the throes of Renaissance, and they acknowledged that the Holy Spirit is alive and active, and can prompt the doing of “a new thing,” as in their own break with Rome and the translation of the liturgy into English. An English priest and theologian by the name of Richard Hooker provided the answer to their dilemma. It has never been made official dogma or written into canon law, but it has been honored in Anglican teaching and practice for over 400 years. We often refer to this principle as “The Three-Legged Stool.” Hooker took a different path from Luther in getting away from a Papal monopoly on authority in the Church. He also, like Luther and the Articles of Religion, asserted the primacy of Holy Scripture. But since not all truth is contained in the Bible, nor does the Bible speak on all relevant contemporary subjects, he also supported the Catholic argument for the retention of the Tradition of the Church--so long as it was not in conflict with the Scriptural witness. Yet whether one relies upon Scripture or Tradition, someone has to interpret those things to the larger Church. There, Hooker went one step further, saying that the third leg of authority is the God-given faculty of human Reason. This Reason, however, is not to be wielded by any one individual, nor is it to be a completely anarchic affair. The whole church, acting in its lawful councils, is responsible for the application of Reason to both Scripture and Tradition to determine the will of God in a particular matter. Anglicans are well aware that the councils of the Church can err, though we have more confidence in the decisions of a large group of people than in those of any one person. We are not under the delusion that we have every detail right at any given moment. While we do not accept the doctrine of the Infallibility of the Pope speaking “ex-cathedra,” we (most of us, anyway), have considerable faith in the Infallibility of the Church, by which we mean, not that God would never allow his church to err, but that God would not allow it to stray so grievously that it could no longer be a fit vehicle for the salvation of souls. Thus the Church is constantly being reformed, and constantly straying in some way from the divine ideal. But there is no need to break away and establish a new “purified” church, as some are constantly attempting, for the new body also would be straying in some other way. There is no perfection on earth, yet the Church remains the Ark of our salvation, a sea-worthy vessel designed to convey souls from earthly corruption to heavenly perfection. FOUR ESSENTIAL ELEMENTS OF THE ONE, HOLY, CATHOLIC, AND APOSTOLIC CHURCH Ever since the breakup of the Western Church into denominations, sincere Christians have lamented the schisms that have divided us into competing and often unfriendly camps. Many have longed for the day when we might truly be one again. Probably each denomination harbors a hope that all the others will one day “wake up” and become like them! Anglicans have had a particular awareness of their place in the middle, between Catholics and Protestants. More than a century ago, it had become common for Episcopalians to speculate that if the Vatican and the leading Protestant denominations were ever to make equal (and, in our view, reasonable) compromises with one another, the place where they would all wind up is the very ground we have already occupied! That speculative, and perhaps ego-centric, hope led the Episcopal House of Bishops, meeting in Chicago in 1886, to ponder just what Christian practices they would consider essential. If another communion of Christians wanted to enter into union with us, what would we consider to be negotiable, and what could we never give up without violating our deepest religious convictions. They came up with four essentials. Two years later, they presented their statement to all the Anglican bishops at the Lambeth Conference of 1888 (a meeting called by the Archbishop of Canterbury every ten years.) The bishops of the Communion concurred, and the statement is now called the “Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral.” These four elements can be taken as basic identifiers of an authentic Anglican body. 1. The Bible, including both Old and New Testaments. Though we have used the Apocryphal books ourselves, the bishops designated them as expendable in scripture, as long as the Hebrew Old Testament is included along with the New Testament books. 2. The Historic Creeds of the Church. Two forms were designated as essential: the Nicene Creed, which we use in celebrations of Eucharist, and the Apostles’ Creed, which we use at baptisms and daily offices. A third creed, the Athanasian Creed (see Book of Common Prayer, page 864), was considered optional. 3. The two Major Sacraments of the Church. We actually practice all seven, but the bishops only insisted on Baptism and Holy Communion, as those are specifically mandated by Christ in the Gospels. The other five are desirable, but not essential. 4. The Three Orders of Clergy. Deacons, Priests (Presbyters), and Bishops are separately ordained in the traditional church. One may not be a priest without first being made a deacon; only a priest can be ordained a bishop. Declining to insist on the Apocrypha and the Lesser Sacraments would appeal to Protestants, as would the lack of any mention of the Papacy. Maintaining the Creeds, the Sacraments, and the three ordained ministries would appeal to the Catholics. The bishops hoped that they had achieved a fair and balanced, yet Biblically founded, compromise that could yield union. Interestingly enough, but perhaps not surprisingly, not many have seriously taken us up on our offer. We do have inter-communion with the Old Catholics, a small western European communion, and with the Lutheran Church of Sweden. We have a Concordat of Agreement with the Evangelical Lutheran Church, U. S. A., which permits sharing of communion and ordained ministers. Recently, a similar agreement was reached with the Moravian Church. There is an interim sharing of communion with the United Methodist Church, which may come to full fruition by the time you read this. Conversations are presently underway with the Presbyterians, USA. For a while, the Orthodox were interested, and great ecumenical strides were being made with them. However, our decision to ordain women underscored a huge cultural gulf between us; we are willing to do differently those things which we consider to be un-essential, but the Orthodox do not consider any tradition to be un-essential. The English Church once hammered out a deal to merge the English Methodist Church back into the Church of England—but it collapsed when the English bishops insisted that all the Methodist clergy be re-ordained (by bishops rather than fellow presbyters). So, spotty progress has been made, but ecumenical unions continue to be very hard to produce and to maintain. THE BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER Conspicuous in its absence from the Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral is any mention of the Book of Common Prayer. Anyone who knows The Episcopal Church might be justified in expecting that it would be the very first thing our bishops would try to preserve! However, it is not mentioned in the Bible. Therefore, though we might have excellent and valid reasons for using it, we could not honestly say that we think ALL Christians should. Nevertheless, use of the Book of Common Prayer is a major source of identity for us Anglicans—at the moment. We tend to value worship that is orderly, dignified, and truly “common,” meaning that it is shared by all of us, not the whim of an individual or handful. If we can be said to have an area of specialization, it is liturgy. On the whole, nobody does it better! However, that said, it should also be noted that in this present generation, EVERYTHING seems to be up for grabs in all the mainline churches! The Protestant Reformation has ended, and we simply do not know what is coming upon us next. Not much is certain, but expect more variety, more experimentation, more stylistic differences than ever before in Episcopal worship from one locale to another.

Sunday, September 20, 2015

THE FLAG AND THE WATCHMAN

Reading Harper Lee's Go Set a Watchman, by returning me to the world of the Alabama segregated South of the 1950's, gave me an instructive insight into one of the debates that recurred during the recent Confederate Battle Flag controversy. It has to do with the old argument as to whether the Civil War was fought over the institution of slavery or over the principle of states' rights, each side of which has strong and vehement proponents. I've come to the conclusion that the War was fought over both--and neither. The actual cause of the Civil War was Racism: specifically, a dispute between north and south over the degree of racism--racial distinction, prejudice, and discrimination, toward persons of African origins-- that could be tolerated in the United States of America in the latter nineteenth century. Both parts of the nation held deep racial prejudices, which were directed against Indians and Asians as well as Africans, though the Africans were the only ones being held in slavery. Both parts unabashedly considered European persons to be innately, and by divine intent, superior to other color varieties of humans. The racism was merely a matter of degree. The difference was that in the north, a preponderance of opinion was just forming that there must be a limit to the disparity in treatment of people of color by white people, and that the line fell at the point of actual ownership of one human being by another, with all its potential for violent and heart-wrenching abuses . Thus, Abraham Lincoln was correct when, upon meeting Harriet Beecher Stowe, one of those who helped mold northern opinion, he said, "So you are the little woman who made this great war." Southerners were in too deep to be turned by Stowe and the abolitionists. There were too many slaves among them, and the social consequences of emancipation outweighed even the economic ones. For them, there could be no limits applied to their supremacy over blacks, specifically--Indians having already been driven out, and Asians not yet beginning to pour in. To protect themselves from horrors of being murdered in their beds by uprising slaves, or by vengeful freed slaves, nightmares they had brought upon themselves, they held strongly to their traditional position that black people, being inferior in every conceivable way, were made to be enslaved. Poor Southerners did not fight for the Confederacy because they dreamed they might someday be slave owners; they were not that stupid. They enlisted because they were every bit as much racially prejudiced as their betters, and they were every bit as much afraid of the consequences to them of the emancipation of slaves. Where would freed slaves live? Among them, not among the rich. With whom would freed slaves compete for land and jobs? With them, not with the rich. With whose daughters (always the daughters) might they want to intermarry? With theirs, not those of the rich. These were the fears whose flames were fanned not only during the war but for the century and more following. In some ways, poor whites and newly emancipated blacks might have formed an alliance for a more democratic and just South, but that was not to be, for fear, suspicion, and "otherness" combine so strongly to keep people apart. A great irony of the American Civil War, then, is that its conclusion brought an end to actual slavery in America, but not to the deep and abiding racism that brought both about. The conflict is therefore not really resolved, and cannot be, until all segments of American society recant, repent, and root out, all vestiges of racial prejudice and come to realize that there is but one race present on this earth, and it is called "human." That is why the controversy over the Battle Flag rages, and why it will never go away until it no longer matters to anyone.

WHY BLACK LIVES HAVE TO MATTER

WHILE I'M ON THIS TEAR...(and it looks like it may be a while)... WHY SUBSTITUTING "ALL LIVES MATTER" FOR "BLACK LIVES MATTER" IS HARMFUL AND OFFENSIVE. It seems so simple to the unwary. Of course it's true, or ought to be, that "All Lives Matter," not just Black people's. Please, do not be misled. The switch is conniving, underhanded and insulting to those who protest blatant and violent discrimination by race, by some people, in law enforcement, prosecutions, and incarcerations. It is an attempt to change the subject, to divert attention from the outrage of gunned down, wrongly convicted, and disproportionately imprisoned black citizens. If guardians of the status quo can get people to make that shift, then they don't have to deal with the issue of injustices specifically to blacks. They can avoid the subject entirely--yet again-- and do nothing. The fact is that all lives cannot matter until Black Lives Matter. If we allow white politicians, civic officials, and TV demagogues to throw their whitewash over a very real and very serious social injustice, we are not assuaging, but inflaming justified anger and resentment. The only way to end a problem is to deal with it, not to deny it. When Black Lives Matter, then All Lives can.

HIJACKING THE BANDWAGON

The little flap du jour about Donald Trump is supposed by Pinko Liberals to signal the beginning for the end for Trump's candidacy. (In this case, the term "Pinko" refers to their rose-colored spectacles). It won't hurt Trump with his constituency any more than any of the previous mis-statements he's made. Does anyone really expect an apology, back-pedal, or even correction from this sociopath? By his own statement, he's never confessed such even to God--because he's never been in the wrong! For anyone who has awakened just today from a coma, I am referring to The Donald's failure to correct the bigot who so confidently "posed a question" to him in which he asserted that Muslims are the problem, and that President Obama is a Muslim and a foreigner. (Trump continues "not to know" if the President was born in the U. S.) Recent polling indicates that 43% of Republicans believe Obama is a Muslim (29% of Americans), and 20% of Americans believe he was born outside the United States (CNN/ORC poll). What occurs to me is that, if this idiocy does not bring down the American republic, it may bring to an end the Republican Party. Yet it is the result of a deliberate, sustained plan for overcoming the majority of Americans who call themselves Democrats and retaking control of the national government in all three of its balancing branches. For many years, the strategy has worked remarkably well. The Tea Party, scary as it is, may be the Bridge Too Far that collapses the whole plan. Better than anyone, they reveal the core of the strategy. Remember when white Southerners were Yellow Dog Democrats? ("'You'd vote for that yeller dawg.' 'Wal, just as long as he wuz a Democrat.'") Now, the southern states are red states. What happened? The Civil Rights Act, that's what happened, sponsored and passed by the Democrats, along with the Voting Rights Act and other "liberal" legislation, all opposed by the Republican Party. In the 1960's, the GOP Bandwagon pulled up at the South's town square, and all the Yellow Dogs climbed on. There were never enough fiscal conservatives to win an election, local or national. The 1% are certainly not enough. WASPs are not enough. Generally traditionally-minded people are not enough. The GOP had to, and still has to, boost the number of its monied base by recruiting all the racists, neo-Nazis, Xenophobes, chauvinists, homophobes, misogynists, and Christian Triumphalists it can muster. These are people for whom voting Republican means voting against their own economic self-interests, but fear and anger can cause people to do just that. The strategy worked so effectively, it even brought together Protestant Evangelicals and traditional Roman Catholics, an amazing feat, and the leadership of both groups became the GOP's most ardent campaigners. Of course, it was never the plan that this motley assortment would assert its own will, or even have a will, or set of wills, of its own. It was supposed to be completely malleable, led by the nose-ring of its own prejudices and fears, as was the case for several decades. The Tea Party Movement, whose heart is mainly in opposition to any taxation to benefit the public as a whole, fired the first shots of the rebellion. But they set off a chain reaction, which alienated the more socially-reactionary element. The result is that at the moment, no one who has ever actually served as an elected GOP office-holder is worth considering to be the party's nominee for President of the United States. The Tea-Party-driven strategy of taking over the reigns of government by grinding it to a halt has backfired so badly that even the socially-conservative Republicans rate Congress as a total bust. Thus the Establishment let onto their Bandwagon a rabble of people with whom they would rather not associate normally, in order to use their fear, anger, and gullibility to their own advantage, only to find that very rabble now hijacking the Bandwagon. In effect, the Republican Party of Eisenhower, Goldwater, Ford, and even Dulles no longer exists. It has gone the way of the Whigs before them, in every way but (so far) its name. The question now is more complicated than who the nominee of the Republican Party for President will be. It also is yet to be determined who the Republican Party will be. Can it hold itself together one more time, or will it split, and if so, into how many pieces? The Conservatism of the remainder of this century will, no doubt continue, but what form or forms will it take? Even Mr. Trump, for all his loquaciousness, will not be able to give us the answer to that one.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

We Missed It

We Missed It

I was in the midst of my favorite presentation on certain realities of congregational life, “The Life Cycle of a Congregation.” My point was that the further down the descending side of the bell curve a congregation has slid, past the plateau, the more drastic must be the change it undertakes to swing it around to positive development again. A fellow interrupted to object to any notion of change, particularly drastic change.

“We’ve been through drastic change already in our church, over the past thirty years, with ordaining women and revising our prayer book. It hasn’t worked! We’ve continued to lose members, not gain!” His tone was forceful, even angry. People around him nodded grimly.

I had been talking about congregations, not national churches. However, a little bell dinged clearly in the back of my mind. My antagonist was perfectly correct, of course, in what he said, and so was the theory I was presenting. The principle of Life Cycle applies to larger as well as smaller entities. It suddenly dawned on me what this means for the church.

Yes, we did, in the seventies and extending into the eighties, undertake to wrench ourselves, belatedly, into the twentieth century. “Cultural relevance” was our hue and cry. We met enormous, almost crippling resistance, and we lost members from both ends of the ecclesiological spectrum. We gained many, too, but the net result was loss, as experienced by all of the Main Line.

That loss may have had little to do with our extended internal crisis. The Methodists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, and others lost even more, and the Catholics would have if not for Hispanic immigration. I happen to think that, had we not taken the steps to modernize we did, our collapse would have been much greater, perhaps disastrous.

But the lesson of the Life Cycle is clear: though we agonized and/or crowed as if we had made a huge, courageous turn, in fact we did too little, too late. Ordaining women was not a startling innovation to many people: all of main-stream Protestantism had done it already, years earlier. Revising the Book of Common Prayer impressed only us, as everyone else had departed from the Cranmerian cadences of the BCP centuries before us. Even the Catholics had abandoned Latin for contemporary English prior to 1979. Our great moment of courage, as it seemed to us at the time, was in fact a failure of nerve. We needed something much more dramatic and more like a reinvention of ourselves to flip us out of institutional decline.

The other insight of the Bell Curve has to do with where we must have been on it. Had we been just at the down-turn from the plateau, where I believe the great majority of Episcopalians attuned to that sort of thing believed we were, our tactic would have worked. Those two unsettling changes we made would have been sufficient. But they weren’t.

That means we were much further down into factionalism, parties in conflict, anger, and polarization than we thought. From thirty years out, it seems pretty obvious. We had been High Church and Low Church, Catholics and Evangelicals, Liberals and Traditionalists, for decades, held together (tenuously) only by that very BCP we then revised. We lacked any theological consistency, yet we denied and avoided dealing with the significance of that reality. We never examined the theological underpinnings of the changes we were making. We finished our prayer book revision just before inclusive language became a major issue, and so we failed to deal with it. We included women among the ordained, but wimped out on dealing with gays and lesbians. We accepted divorce and remarriage without doing the theological work we needed to do on marriage, and we stopped short of examining the concept of same-sex unions, leaving that for later. We didn’t even broach the forbidden subject of episcopacy and hierarchical authority. And so, we bombed. We crashed without making the swing around to rebuilding again.

Incidentally, the Catholics have done the same thing, which explains their continuing malaise. Vatican II, which compared to their history, seemed like such a major shift in direction, was really chump change compared to the wholesale revisions the century called for. The Mass is in the vernacular, and the few remaining nuns are out of habits, but the clergy remain (officially) celibate and male, and the authority of a feudal papacy remains intact. Additionally, the clergy sexual abuse scandal has seeped through the rug despite all efforts to hide it, rather than deal with it. The time called for unprecedented courage, and appeared at the time to get it, but in fact the response was far from sufficient.

We see the consequences in our own communion, which continues its slide toward death. Our polarities harden, our animosities deepen, the chasm that separates us deepens and widens. Frankly, our hope now, in my opinion, lies in as dignified a passing as we can manage (which will be not very), followed by a new birth. While we lie in the tomb, one hopes we will grow some guts.

It has become commonplace for sages of the moment, such as Tickle, to forecast a coming new Reformation, a cinque-centennial new awakening akin to the Conciliar Age, the separation of East and West, and the rise of Protestantism. This recent revelation makes me think that, in fact, it was the twentieth century, not the twenty-first, that marks the division of the ages. The new age of the Christian Church has already happened. And we missed it.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

The Angro-Catholics

THE ANGRO-CATHOLICS

Pope Benedict’s recent shopping expedition into the Anglican Communion has attracted considerable comment, and I am content to leave all that lie. I simply can’t help but note that anyone--bishop, priest, lay person, or congregation--who would avail themselves of the offer will not, by category, be among the happier-disposed members of our unhappy Communion. They will be allowed to keep “some elements” of their spiritual and liturgical traditions. Ah, but which ones? The matter will not be negotiable. The Holy See will determine which ones. And so, the cycle of disappointment, frustration, powerlessness (ai Chihuahua, they don’t know what powerless is—yet!) continues.

I had a United Methodist pastor friend who decided he was really an Episcopalian. He was fed up. He went to the Episcopal bishop (not mine), who was pretty well acquainted with him already, and he asked to be “translated” into the Episcopal priesthood. The bishop listened to his argument, and then he said, “Bob, if I accept you, all I do is change you from being an angry Methodist minister to an angry Episcopal priest. Now, why would I do that to either one of us?”

Bob was not too pleased with that response, but I thought the bishop was pretty sharp, and absolutely right. Bob’s issue was not his church, it was his anger (with the depression that underlay it). When we are depressed and angry, we believe that the cure is getting someone else to change their ways to assuage our anger and thereby cheer us up. That belief is not true, but is a symptom of what ails us.

So the Pope has just opened his doors wider to a bunch of depressed, unhappy, and angry people who are going to stop being angry Episcopalians and start being angry Catholics instead. Now, why would he want to do that to them or to himself? Not to mention that he will be creating legions of other angry Catholics among his existing clergy, to whom he has not made such a generous marriage contract.

Make way for the Angro-Catholics.

Saturday, August 08, 2009

Tee-shirt sighting

Jesus loves you...

But I'm his favorite.

Tee-shirt sighting

Jesus loves you...

But I'm his favorite.

Sunday, August 02, 2009

A Meditation: Jesus as Comfort Food

I am Life. I am bread.
I am Heavenly food. Buttered croissant.
I am Comfort Food.
I give Peace. Not like you get anywhere else.
Deep Peace. Pure Peace, that can cut by a sword,
But lasting Peace.
Enter my Peace.
I am mashed potatoes, with chicken gravy.
I am buttered biscuit, hot from the oven,
With blackberry jam.
Take up your cross, and follow.

I am Life. Abundant, joyful, life.
Fulfilling. Lasting. Exuberant.
Sit at my table, and have your fill.

I am blueberry scone, with clotted cream.
I am warm peach cobbler, with vanilla ice cream. I am éclair.
I am macaroni and cheese, and not from a box. I am apple pie a la mode.
Taste, and see that I am good.

I am rich, bread pudding with warm, hard sauce.
Don’t be afraid. Enter the banquet hall.
No, move up higher, my honored friend.
I am steaming hot chocolate with melting marshmallow.
I am coconut cream pie with meringue.

I am water, that flows and lives,
Deep, cold, refreshing water that cleanses and purifies and slakes thirst forever.
Refreshing water. Life-giving water.
Do not be afraid. Come into my water. Live with me and in me.

I am Life. Little children, love one another.
Do not be afraind.
Forgive one another—you will be safe.
You will be saved.
I am your life.

I am brownie in fudge sauce.
I am eggs cooked just as you like them—
With bacon and hashed browns AND grits.
I am cold milk and cookies with chocolate chips.
I am lemon meringue pie.

I am Light. Piercing Light. Illuminating.
I brighten every corner and expose every lie.
I am radiant, revealing, warming, healing.
Come, little ones, into my Light.
I am café latte, with cinnamon roll
I am tea, with milk, and lemon squares.
I am black bottom pie.

I am light Belgian waffle, with real maple syrup
I am pizza with your choice of toppings—extra cheese.
I am French fried potatoes, and onion rings.
I am ketchup.
I am chicken soup.
I give comfort and well-being
Come, I will eat at your table,
And you will be filled.

Little ones, are you tired? Do you hunger and thirst?
Have some breakfast with me.
I am omelet, with ham and cheese, and onion.
I am sourdough toast. I am coffee with cream.
I am hot, fresh-baked cornbread, with brown beans and ham.
I am chicken and dumplings.
I am Mississippi Mud Pie.
Sit at my table.
Sit next to the one who has wronged you the most.
Forgive.
Have more gravy,
And pass the peas.

I am.