Elected to my first year on the Vestry of my Episcopal church, I suddenly find on my plate the ugly conflict(s) over "the gay Bishop." He's not the real problem, of course; he's just the reduction of a long-simmering brew of differences about scriptural interpretation and ecclesial authority.
So I'm getting it from both sides. A friend from another branch of the Church was unable to hide his schaudenfreude when he related a news item that Bishop Alexander seems to be losing a struggle with dissidents over use of church property. Parishioners have taken me aside for whispered pep talks about fighting the "liberalism" in our diocese and in our national church, and others who know me better look to me to voice their understanding that the Church is a body that continues to mature, any changes of outlook being a sign of collective experience and wisdom. I said to one parishioner, "Being Episcopalian means that we believe the Spirit has guided the processes of selecting our leaders through the centuries; and if the Church is leaning away from what we believe, then it's probably time that we should re-examine what we believe (with reference to earlier teachings about race and divorce)."
For self-defense as I wade into this war, and for soldiers on both sides, I recommend an essay, "The Christians are Fighting -- Again" by Robert Corin Morris. He takes the long view -- very long -- starting from the partisanship among Jesus' twelve apostles, and the decision of the early church to accept different practices of Jew and Gentile in the same church.
Far from being a new problem, war within our church is something we've always had, and, Morris writes, "something in us likes it a lot." (He cites a book by Chris Hedges, WAR IS A FORCE THAT GIVES US MEANING (read reviews), and asserts that war is "our default position.") He tells anecdotes of how Christians have denied each others' faith since the days when Athanasius called a childhood friend "The First-born of Satan" for a nuanced difference in their ways of describing the divinity of Christ.
Morris agrees with all sides that "doctrine matters" as the "common ground of belief and practice" for any group to "hang together." But the agreement doesn't have to be absolute, any more than it was at the Council of Jerusalem, where the early Church drew a line at "the pollutions of idols and from unchastity and from what is strangled and from blood" (Acts 15:20).
But Morris presents Jesus himself as the unifying factor beyond doctrine. While some parishioners in my church have derided "warm and fuzzy theology," they'd have to admit that a lot of what Jesus said was to blur the sharp and hard lines of the theology of his day. He reduced the ten commandments to two, he cheerfully broke sabbath laws in the name of kindness, and he makes "love" the defining characteristic of his true disciples. His opponents use doctrine against him, and he always subverts it towards something warm and fuzzy, like humanity, and caring for the poor and the prisoners.
In our present conflict, Morris suggests that we adopt "the Gamaliel Principle." A Jewish leader named Gamaliel spoke in defense of Peter and John, saying that if their new Christian movement is of God, it will last (Acts 5:26-40). Morris concludes the main part of his argument by facing the present controversy directly:
Is it so impossible to imagine part of the church calling gay and lesbian Christians to live according to the same principles of sexual fidelity in consecrated relationships that bind heterosexuals, while other parts of the church demand that homosexuals consecrate themselves to celibacy as the only discipleship option? We don't know the long-term consequences of the "innovative teaching," spiritually or socially, though both sides claim they already know the answer. What if both proponents and opponents prayed the same Gamaliel prayer: "O God, if this is from you, let it flourish; if not, reveal its flaws"?Finally, Morris suggests that, in the worst case scenario, we could make the best of it by aiming for an "amicable divorce." Some divorced couples, workingout shared responsibilities, find "new, if more distant, relationships." He imagines ways "to recognize that we're still estranged parts of the same family...not able to see eye to eye."
Morris is an Episcopal priest in the Diocese of Newark, and the founding director of Interweave, "an interfaith adult education center for spirituality, wellness, and the common good in Summit, New Jersey." His books include the Isaiah section of the SPIRITUAL FORMATION BIBLE and the recently published, PROVOCATIVE GRACE: THE CHALLENGE IN JESUS' WORDS. (Link to his page at Amazon.com)
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