Good Intentions

Archbishop Thabo of Southern Africa has issued a supportive response to Archbishop Rowan's recent Advent Letter urging adoption of the Proposed Anglican Covenant. He suggests we look past the present dissension over sexuality and look to possible future disagreements, and the Covenant's possible tole in keeping the peace, as all of the members of the Communion vow to remain mutually submissive.

Sadly, this continues several of the themes purveyed by those who see the Covenant as a benign or helpful document. To them I commend a careful rereading of Section 4.2, which places into the hands of the Standing Committee the capacity to commend what amounts to the essential dissolution of the Anglican Communion, or at the very least the expulstion from it of any member whose behavior is judged "incompatible." I am not making this up. It is, of course, quite true that there are already mechanisms in place to do this, at least insofar as the Instruments are concerned; that is, the Archbishop of Canterbury sets the table and arranges the placecards at both Lambeth and the Primates' Meeting, and the ACC is capable of amending its charter of membership with the cooperation of the Primates. But up until now we have not had a Damocletian Clause hanging over the Communion, and section 4.2 of the PAC places this threatening weapon over all our heads, suspended only by the narrow thread of good intentions.

As I've written before, even were it not for the punitive mechanisms laid out in the PAC under the Newspeak terminology of "relational consequences," there is something deeply wrong about the notion of mutual submission. The main problem with this idea is that it consists in practice of submission of the few, or the one, to the many. In this it stifles the Holy Spirit, which does not suddenly inspire everyone everywhere with the same insight, but always starts locally, often individually, and then spreads like the good infection it is. This is a reflection of the Incarnation itself. The PAC represents a kind of diffuse gnosticism of goodwill, which in operation will mean the submission of any new insight to the judgment of the old and possibly calcified views of a majority. It will convert the Communion into a Sanhedrin or Bet Din, the wisest of whose members will at best be able to say, Let us wait and see; and in the meantime, the decision of the body will prevail: to let these innovators be disciplined -- or crucified.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Maxim (20111205)

Better an honest disagreement than a false consensus.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Rowan on Kato and Consensus

The Archbishop of Canterbury has issued a strong response to the murder of Ugandan gay human rights worker David Kato Kisule. The forthright statement is only marred by the inclusion of this clause:

Such violence has been consistently condemned by the Anglican Communion worldwide. 

If this is taken as, 'Various provinces of the Anglican Communion around the world have opposed such violence,' all well and good. But this seems to me to parse too fine, and not sit so well with the Archbishop's habit of suggesting greater unity — on the basis of Lambeth Conference resolutions — than there is "on the ground.."

So while I warmly welcome the statement as a whole, that clause about the Communion, once again suggests the Archbishop's tendency to confuse statements on a piece of paper (even Lambeth Conference stationery) with "the 'mind' of the Anglican Communion." Just as there are provinces out of step to the left, there are those out of step to the right.

When will +Rowan learn that pretending to Unanimity — or even its stepsister Consensus — on conflicted matters is counterproductive? Better to acknowledge disagreements where they exist; as +Desmond showed us, truth comes before reconciliation. To do that and just say, plain and simple, and with all the authority that can be mustered, "I, as Archbishop of Canterbury, condemn this deplorable act." I, as Vicar of Fordham, am unanimous in that.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Not Even His Party

David Anderson, ever the anxious kibitzer, has opined (without anyone asking) concerning the upcoming planned meeting of the Primates:

If asked my opinion, I would strongly advise the orthodox Primates to 1) organize before the Primates' meeting, and 2) attend and remove by force of numbers the Presiding Bishop of the American Episcopal Church (not physically, but by either voting her off the "island," or recessing to another room and not letting her in). The meeting is a place to gather and potentially to settle some of the issues that are pulling the Anglican Communion apart, and to begin to restore health to a most wonderful communion.

In the above case, if Dr. Williams did not go along with Jefferts Schori's exclusion, then I would suggest having the next-door-meeting without him. I just don't believe staying home from the field of battle helps win a war over the truth and nature of Christianity within Anglicanism.

My principle question is, whatever happened to "What touches all?" — the principle misapplied by the Windsor Report, but actually helpful if employed in its original sense. If the minority presence is to be "voted off the island" then we no longer have anything approaching a comprehensive communion, but something more like Lord of the Flies. Thanks for that image, David Anderson, you may now pass the conch to the next speaker.

The imagery of warfare and spiritual battle — clad in the armor of pure self-righteousness — is only imagery after all, more schoolyard bluff and bother. I don't know what the "force of numbers" implies, but the hustling off to another room or venue next-door sounds familiar. If the Global South cannot even bear the presence of those with whom they disagree, then perhaps it is time for them to walk apart, from the other Primates, from Rowan, and from the Anglican Communion.

h/t to Thinking Anglicans

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Consensus Shmensus

The recent move on the part of the English House of Bishops to promote adoption of the Anglican Kovenant by simple majorities surely flies in the face of all of the talk about a high level of consensus. If the "mind of the communion" and its Instruments are to govern with the consent of more than a simple majority of the governed, then surely at least the two-thirds rule ought to apply. Oughtn't it?

Whatever happened to Quod omnes tanget... (What touches all must be approved by all)? See here, and here, and even tangentially here.

It certainly begins to look Orwellian when a principle demanded at the outset, i.e., a high level of consensus before making any changes, no longer seems important when the institutional tool to implement it fails to partake of the value it espouses. What really is the point of this exercise?

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG
h/t to Thinking Anglicans

Dueling Epistles

Much is being made of the publication of two letters from two primates of the Anglican Communion: the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church. Both of them are well worth reading and say important things from their different perspectives: the Archbishop properly speaking in the role and to the end for which he feels responsible: to preserve the unity of the Anglican Communion; the Presiding Bishop properly speaking for the historic and continuing independence of the Episcopal Church concerning its internal affairs, while remaining Anglican in the same way it has from the beginning. To vastly oversimplify, Rowan appears in the role of loving parent of unruly children instructed that they will have to stay in their rooms without TV until they can get along with the rest of the family. He is very even-handed in laying down what he clearly thinks is the law. Katherine’s response is a reminder and reassertion that this role-play is in itself an assumption of a power not granted in an entity not yet constructed.

So, in its own way, this epistolary exchange incarnates the larger debate on the nature of the Anglican Communion itself, and whether it should continue as a fellowship of autonomous churches or morph into a more tightly governed structure, such as that proposed by the draft Anglican Covenant.

Some commentators are engaging in a bit of revisionist history when they seek to portray in the foundation of the Episcopal Church a desire to serve as a branch or outpost of the Church of England, which indeed the colonial churches had been, answerable to the Bishop of London, prior to the War of Independence. There may well indeed have been a few individuals who thought that way at that time. However, the bulk of the evidence shows that the emerging Episcopal Church of the late 18th century wanted nothing from England but bishops — that is, they wanted bishops (to remain Episcopal) but knew the church would not be English — and indeed if they were unable to obtain the episcopate from England they were happy to go to other quarters. Indeed, it is ironic that the principled Tory Seabury ended up going to Scotland, while the Patriot White held out for England, pressing other Patriots such as Jay and Adams in that cause. But however bishops were obtained, the documentary evidence shows that it was bishops that were wanted and not any kind of continued governance from England — a cordial relationship, yes; but governance, no.

On the contrary, great pains were taken in the new land to militate against any such divided loyalty. As the preface to the 1785 Constitution of the Episcopal Church stated as its first “Whereas” — “in the course of Divine Providence, the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America is become independent of all foreign authority, civil and ecclesiastical...” This language was echoed in the Preface to the first American Book of Common Prayer in 1789.

Nor were the English particularly interested in ecclesiastical entanglement with this new independent church in America, playing what is best described as an affectionately avuncular role. In witness of this, the Act of Parliament permitting Canterbury the ordination of American bishops contains this important proviso:

Provided also, and be it hereby declared, that no person or persons consecrated to the office of a bishop in the manner aforesaid, nor any person or persons deriving their consecration from or under any bishop so consecrated, nor any person or persons admitted to the order of deacon or priest by any bishop or bishops so consecrated, or by the successor or successors of any bishop or bishops so consecrated, shall be thereby enabled to exercise his or their respective office or offices within his Majesty's dominions.

Hardly a “continuation” of the Church of England, and rather a blow even to the notion of communion itself — usually understood as involving recognition and interchangeability of ministers — or to the ahistorical notion that a “bishop is a bishop for the whole church.” In fact, this proviso echos the language of the ancient canons that required bishops to confine themselves to their own sees and not meddle about extramurally.

But back to the dueling epistles: some, such as Diana Butler Bass, see this as a turning point — something’s got to give, and the Communion will never be the same. She may well be right, and I think that is unfortunate. I wish Rowan had exercised the wisdom of a truly loving parent, when from his perspective the children started acting up, to let them be, rather than to formalize their quarrels — and his Pentecost letter continues on that road of mildly vexed and punitive paternalism. It may have effect: It is so much easier to have consensus when those who disagree are removed from the conversation; but then, as with Caroline’s “ball without dancing” — it will not be near so much a conversation. Or a Communion.

Tobias Stanislas Haller

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A Sobering Blast from the Past

I had the very great pleasure of knowing Bishop Walter D. Dennis, Suffragan of New York, in his capacity as Visitor to the Brotherhood of Saint Gregory. He also had a keen eye for trends in the church, and often wrote about his prognostications. In the process of browsing through my library I came across the following from twenty years ago, which I think should rank him among the prophets. Archbishop Runcie, quoted herein, also has some apposite words for us, in light of the strained efforts towards an Anglican Covenant. Bishop Dennis writes:

If it turns out that unity with the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches is a high priority for the new Archbishop of Canterbury [George Carey], then ECUSA, as part of the Anglican Communion, may feel obliged to sell out on some of the commitments it has already made, namely, on the ordination of women, on the issue of abortion, on the issue of theological dissent and liberation theologies, and on gay rights. Clearly, many would revolt, feeling that the price of unity is too high if it requires Episcopalians to forfeit these commitments.

In the next decade, there will be much talk about authority—jurisdiction—collegiality, and ecclesiology. In using such terms, we had better be certain that in our discussions there is common definition of each term. The Anglican Church says that the four marks of Anglican authority are: The Archbishop of Canterbury, The Lambeth Conference, The Archbishops and Primates of the Anglican Communion, and the Anglican Consultative Council. As I understand it, such authority from any and all of these are consultative, but there will be heavy discussion about whether or not this consultation is for advice or for approval or, at the very least, for consensus. Also, many people will be discussing whether the Archbishop of Canterbury and Primates as well as the Anglican Consultative Council are on the same footing with the other two, and if so, how did this authority come to be? Did autonomous churches participating in all this give approval for those two additional bodies from their National Synods and/or Conventions? Speaking of his own authority and that of Lambeth, Archbishop Robert Runcie made the following statement in his opening address at Lambeth 1988:

One of the characteristics of Anglicanism is our Reformation inheritance of national or provincial autonomy. The Anglican tradition is thus opposed to centralism and encourages the thriving of variety. This is a great good. There is an important principle to be borne witness to here: that nothing should be done at a higher level than is absolutely necessary. So Anglicans have become accustomed to speak of a dispersed authority. And we are traditionally suspicious of the Lambeth Conference becoming anything other than a Conference. We may indeed wish to discuss the development of more solid structures of unity and coherence. But I for one would want their provisional character made absolutely clear; like tents in the desert, they should be capable of being easily dismantled when it is time for the Pilgrim People to move on. We have no intention of developing an alternative Papacy. We would rather continue to deal with the structures of the existing Petrine Ministry, and hopefully help in its continuing development and reform as a ministry of unity for all Christians. [The Lambeth Conference, 1988, The Truth Shall Make You Free (London: Church House Publishers, 1988).]

“A Personal Prospectus On The Episcopal Church In The 1990s,” Walter D. Dennis, in The St Luke’s Journal of Theology, December 1990, Volume XXXIV Number 1, pages 11-12

brought to you by Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

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Thoughts for 12.23.09

For all its casting itself as a model of catholic Christendom, at its worst The Anglican Communion Covenant (TACC) could become a form of lowest common denominationalism. With the capacity for intramural carping and critique a highlight of its discipline, it could become a modern version of the perverse "communion" Paul condemned in Galatians 5:15 — "If you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another."

I am all for remaining in fellowship and working together with those with whom I may disagree on this or that — even important thises or thats — but I really do not want to submit the informed judgment of my church to a forum that appears to base its judgments on misinformation, or at least refusal to engage in a close examination of the matters at hand in a dispassionate way.

This is why I prefer a loose federation to a "world church." Given the very extreme differences in cultures and societies, within which any church must live, move and have its being; and given the very different readings of the Gospel itself, informed by history and movements within and against those cultures, it seems unlikely that anything approaching consensus will be reachable, and a world-church struck voiceless, unable to witness within those different societies to the truth of the Gospel as each perceives it. What does it profit us to gain a "world church" at the cost of our true ecclesiastical identity? What does it profit us to gain a Covenant at the cost of the Gospel?

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Incarnation (?)

The official final version of the Anglican Communion Covenant (as it is now presumptively, not to say presumptuously, called) is now available for adoption or otherwise "entering into."

I've promised some further musings on the Covenant in days leading up to now, and as the final text is abroad I suppose I must put some effort into it. Fighting the ennui of the dim days leading up to the darkest of the year, and word of an impending blizzard, I will observe, in light of the upcoming feast of the Incarnation, that the main problem I have with the Covenant is that it incarnates the very problems it ostensibly is designed to solve. It is self-fulfilling prophecy, putting into turgid church-speak the stunningly obvious fact that those who want to get along with each other will get along without a Covenant, and those who don't want to get along with each other will fail to do so even if there is a Covenant in place.

Thus this whole Covenant business is really a form of adoptionism, rather than a real new incarnation or birth — christening our crises and diagnosing our dilemma without offering any real direction for maturing growth in community or treatment for what ails us — which at this point appears to be a form of auto-immune disease.

Section Four, even after reworking, strikes me as still much too much in the world of the ecclesiastical busybodies and perfectionists, the fixer-uppers of other people's failings, even with its suggested form of DIY discipline, consisting mostly of voluntarily dropping out of participation in aspects of the life of the Communion. That hardly seems churchly, except in the worst sense of Benign Neglect which the English Episcopate brought to a high art in the 19th century. At its worst it suggests too much the other classical English solution of Partition (though voluntary in this case) and so once again paradoxically points us away from each other rather than toward each other or to Godward — the root problem of placing the focus for Communion with each other not in Christ but in our own handcrafted Instruments, on none of which is the varnish even dry.

This is not to say we have no need of institutional structures, but this proposal, for all its lipservice, seems to replace autonomy-in-communion with a kind of heteronomy-in-diffusion, with nothing to keep people together in Christ except their own weak and fallible wills and mild threats of being sent to Coventry. What is really needed, I'll say again as I've said before, is the kind of oikonomy-in-commonality enjoyed by the Benedictines — each household committed to follow a common rule, without any necessary superstructure or power from above apart from that of God's own Holy Spirit. Let the Gospel be our Rule, Baptism our commonality, and our cooperation focused on the needs of the world, not on the maintenance of our structures.

In the long run voluntary discipline doesn't work when it is completely voluntary, does it? Those who are not able or not willing to discipline themselves will not frame themselves to someone else's idea of right and wrong, especially when there are strong differences of opinion at work as to just what is right and wrong. (Appeals to the mind of the Communion beg the question entirely, as the Communion lacks any authoritative instrument to determine what that mind is. Right now it is twitching like a brainless frog. It isn't just that the center cannot hold, but that there is no center. By taking our eyes off of God and Christ in each other we have begun to drift.) And external discipline is useless if its only punitive form (excision) is seen as a reward or at least as no big whoop; and we've seen more than enough of the "you can't fire me; I quit" mentality at work in the Communion (on several sides of our several divides) over the last few years to keep us for a while.

So, in short, I don't see the Covenant "solving" anything but merely putting the seal on the ultimate collapse of the Anglican experiment — or at least this phase of that experiment. This proposal neither preserves the old nor offers something truly new; it merely fixes us in our present state of tension (or "restraint") until time's ever-flowing stream does its work and the slow movement of consensus drags Anglicanism (some of it kicking and screaming) forward a few feet into the reality of a post-Christendom world. By the time it gets there, however, the world will have moved on, and I suspect few will be interested in anything we have to say.

And so... that being said...
Should the member churches adopt it? As I hope I've made clear, at this point I don't see it as accomplishing much of anything, but not damaging too much either. It all just seems so dilatory and passive. I would much rather a missional covenant based on a commitment to work together (come what may, for better or worse in terms of what we like or don't about each other) on common human issues. I suppose I'd rather see a loose federation that accomplishes something rather than a tightly linked communion that does little but obsess over its internal issues.

But as this Covenant will allow for getting back to work once we get it out of the way, signed and filed, perhaps the best thing to do is simply sign on and then be on about our business, as long as it is God's business. It appears, if anybody gets upset with anything anyone does that is "incompatible with the Covenant," the worst that could happen is some unnamed "relational consequence" — but whatever that is could hardly be worse than the current mess of unilateral communion-breaking and interference in the internal affairs of other provinces.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Peter Feeds His Sheep

Bishop Peter Selby has presented a superb reality check — bracing as a brisk Beaufort five — in response to the Archbishop of Canterbury's post-General Convention reflection. (I have to admit that the publication of such essays as Selby’s delay my own response, as I find words and ideas preempted and stated better than I could hope.)

In any case, it seems to me that Bishop Peter expertly demythologizes three of the primary myths of the Rowanian Mythos (the Rowanogion?):

• that merely deploring homophobia functions as a talisman or prophylactic against performing homophobia
• that mutual recognition and consensus lie at the heart of communion, as opposed to communion being the safe context in which disagreement can exist because of mutual love and respect, and as a consequence of this supposedly necessary consensus
  
• that it is necessary for the Anglican Communion to be able to speak with a single voice in its relations with other traditions, churches, and communions

Bishop Peter ably deconstructs these highly questionable propositions, and gently (in that British self-effacing way) reveals them for the half-truths they are. I will only at this point add to the undermining of the third by noting that The Episcopal Church has been quite capable of undertaking significant ecumenical dialogues apart from any supposed universal Anglican Teaching — with the Lutherans and the Moravians. (And does Rowan really believe that dialogue with Rome is anything other than what it has always been — and that whether Anglicans speak with one voice or not is immaterial, as the rock against which all such ventures run aground is the heir of that other Peter? Any or all Anglicans makes no difference, if they cannot submit to Petrine doctrinal and ecclesiastical supremacy. That is a defining teaching of the Roman Catholic Church, and she is not about to bend on such a fundamental doctrine crucial to her identity. The current incumbent of Peter's Chair has been very clear that doctrinal uniformity is central to the Roman notion of what it means to be a church. Anglicans adopting the same principle — contrary to our history and ecclesiology — will be of no avail to-Rome-wards if the doctrines themselves differ in detail.)

Meanwhile, some, perhaps correctly, see Bishop Peter's comments as aimed at the proposed Anglican Covenant. I see them more as addressing concern over "the Covenant via Rowan" — that is, not the Covenant as a text delivered as it were de novo but rather one that has emerged from a process so full of spin and intention, in particular from some of the authors of the earlier drafts, that it will never be free of spin and second guessing, under hermeneutics of deeply suspicious pedigree. However much persons such as I might want to see the Covenant as a way to hang together, and work through our differences, this may not be possible. The "our" is in my mind the set of those who can tolerate differences of opinion and continue to work together. Others (such as the ACI+Wright) want the consensus first, so that only those who already agree about everything important will be in this new and peaceable communion. This is where Selby's concerns about "two tracks" come in: for if consensus is to be the Shibboleth for admission to the Covenanted Communion, what really is the point? Likemindedness, mutual recognition, uniformity, univocality -- these are all very nice things, but as Iris Murdoch reminded us, there is a huge gap between the Nice and the Good.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Failing Solomon's Test

The Hebrew scripture reading at Morning Prayer today was the account of Solomon's test of the two women who both claimed to be mothers of the sole surviving child in their household. When Solomon gave the order that the child be cut in two, the true mother, moved by pity, was willing to let the other woman have the living child. This revealed her identity and Solomon's wisdom.

When it comes to dividing the Anglican Communion I think we are dealing with a similar situation — though a less lethal one: that is, even if divided, some sort of Anglican Communion, or a split-level Anglican Communion, or perhaps two distinct Anglican Communions (each claiming the title) will continue to exist; hampered in mission, diminished in scope, but still able to say, with Monty Python's medieval peasant, "I'm not dead yet."

Where I see greater resonance with this impressive episode in Solomon's reign is the similarity of certain voices from the edges to the voice of the not-mother of the child, "Let it be divided!"

To be blunt, the far right represented by GAFCON has already moved on the division and is unlikely to recant short of a change in leadership and a change of heart. They do not wish to be part of an entity that fails to live up to their standards, and are confident that they represent the vital body while those they oppose are a tumor or a gangrenous limb, to be removed not simply as a matter of convenience but in order to preserve the life of the body.

But to be fair, there are also voices on the far left of the progressive end of the spectrum who have been equally vehement in their rejection of continued unity if it is going to mean any hesitation in or denial of adopting what they see as righteous, good, and just. "Let the schismatics go!" is the watchword; or even more extremely, "We don't need no stinking Communion..." (or words to that effect.)

Somewhere in the midst of all of this are those who see a virtue in unity even if it is an imperfect unity; who see virtue in staying together even if it means a lack of clear consensus; who see a value in compromise even if it means everyone not being entirely satisfied.
And this is where I once again return to my appeal for patience, a laissez-faire attitude, and honoring the provincial autonomy of the member churches of the Communion. For there are many provinces in the Communion who are willing to live with anomalies taking place in other provinces — not all are insistent that all must do as they do in all things.

We are not, after all, a world-church — which is simply a statement of fact, not an effort to short-circuit what might emerge as a world-church after a considerable period of time.The proposed Covenant — more proposed than a covenant at this point! — may find ways, one hopes particularly Anglican ways, of fostering our unity without undercutting our traditional liberty in matters of rites and ceremonies and, more importantly, the relationships and ministries for which those rites and ceremonies are designed, and which they institute and support.

The majority of provinces in the Communion appear willing to engage in this process of exploration, listening, and reflection: respectful of others' actions without the need to approve those actions. This seems to me to be on adult and mature manner of working.

And I do not think it takes a Solomon to see the wisdom of such an approach.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Musings after Repose

Well, I’m back from Convocation, none the worse for the restful time, but facing all of the usual residua to which that meeting gives rise: photos, videos, minutes, reports, updates, usw.

Meanwhile, over at the Old HoBD Corral, I’ve been having a discussion on the Prevailing Issue, and why it (discussion) is so difficult. I’ve observed that many among the “Reasserter” side of things seem content to reassert what they believe to be the True Answer to the problem; and rarely seem willing to discuss the issue in anything approaching a rational argument, moving from agreed upon premises to conclusions in logical steps. As the name implies, they usually articulate a reassertion of the premise/conclusion in circular form. And that is a logical fallacy. (It may be true, but it is illogical).

If this leaves us at an impasse, it is because the reasserters are unwilling to “do the theology,” as they often accuse the progressive / reappraiser side of doing. In fact, what I’m suggesting is we all need to do some reappraising together. When folks simply forbid reappraisal, we end up with a situation such as that in the Roman Catholic Church, which in regard to the ordination of women has confessed that the theological rationale of previous years was insufficient, and recognized that the more recent theological arguments were tending towards dodgy ground; and so finally ruled, “End of discussion.”)

In our situation, I think it is more helpful to engage the issue, as indeed I have gone to pains to do in Reasonable and Holy: to look at the various tele* or goods of marriage, as variously defined in the tradition, to see if a same-sex couple is capable of achieving those ends or enjoying those goods. It is, it appears to me after my study, possible to answer that question in the affirmative.

It is also helpful to look at the larger question, “What is the telos of the human being?” — about which there is considerable consensus in the Christian tradition, from both sides of the Catholic/Protestant divide: to know, love, serve and glorify God and to enjoy him for ever. And we have been taught that we achieve or thwart that end in connection to how we treat other human beings, likewise made in the image of God. This is why the theology of the imago Dei, and the recent distortions in that theology (in an unwise attempt to frame a theological defense of traditional marriage) are so important.

Now, this is not to place all of the blame on one side. Much of the argument on both sides has consisted in people talking past each other, mouthing their conclusions and waving their catch-phrases as if they were self-evident truths. This is why I try to engage people in going back to the first principles upon which we actually agree and then working forward in stepwise fashion, to see where we might end up. This necessitates a willingness to adopt up front the Anglican doctrine of humility: that we have no doubt erred, and may well err again.

For some on both sides, as well, the topic is ended, the book closed, there is no further reason for discussion. In the face of that reality, there can be any amount of dust shaken from plenty of heels, a parting of the ways — or a willingness to agree to disagree. Many in the Anglican Communion seem willing to adopt that kind of “watchful waiting” approach; it seems to be the hope of the Archbishop of Canterbury (more on this later) and the sense of “moratoria” (instead of “prohibitions”). Still, even in holding out this possibility for change Canterbury and the communion moderates are offending both those who want to see the church adopt an amended view on The Subject, and those who see such an adoption, or even its entertainment, as departure from the faith once given.

One of my interlocutors at HoBD suggested I was unwilling to adopt “first principles” myself, but I suggested that what he was offering as premises looked like conclusions to me. I rejoined that to find common ground we must get behind those conclusions to find something more basic. He offered one such principle, upon which I can agree as a basis for discussion, a classical concept well in keeping with the style of first principles: “The scriptures are ‘God’s word written’ and therefore normative for matters of salvation and Christian life.”

Although this statement itself requires a good bit of unpacking (and I look to Richard Hooker for the classical version of that task) it is something I can and do fully accept and affirm. In similar language it forms part of the Lambeth unpacking of Chicago’s Quadrilateral.

Where he and I part company is not on this fundamental premise, but on the conclusions we draw from it. So examining the arguments by which we reach these conclusions, the logical steps and inferences (and the related and sometimes unstated premises upon which they rely), would be a helpful form of engagement. Of primary importance is getting those other unstated premises out on the table. Sometimes these unstated premises are seen to be self-evident, but my experience is that they form another part of the obstacle to clear thinking.

One of the things we clearly disagree about is not whether the Scripture is a “normative” (I prefer the old language of “sufficient”) guide to salvation and moral living, but whether Scripture actually addresses The Issue upon which we disagree: is same-sex marriage possible, and if so, is it moral?

These are not easy questions, and any argument from Scripture or Reason or Tradition is going to be complex, as there is no explicit prohibition (or approbation) of same-sex marriage in Scripture; Reason alone is unlikely to provide a clear answer acceptable to those who think Scripture is clear; and Tradition, while generally tending one way, is also mixed. This is why a glib conclusion, either way, while tempting, will not settle the argument.

I am content to continue the discussion. As a starter, I want to comment briefly on one of the unspoken corollary premises of the reasserter position: that Genesis offers us a “one size fits all” divine pattern for all human sexual relations.

I address this assertion at some length in R&H, as well as the discontinuities of this premise with significant aspects of the tradition, but I want to raise an additional question here, concerning taking Genesis as a template at all, that is, questioning the very premise. Why is Genesis seen as a template for all sexual relations but not for any or all other human activities? Why, for example, do we allow other forms of industry than agriculture? (Given that was Cain’s metier and industry was the invention of the offspring of Lamech’s polygamous unions.) Why do we allow women to use anaesthesia in childbirth? (Roundly opposed on biblical grounds in the Victorian era, until Victoria herself made use of it.) Why aren’t we all vegetarians? (Yes, I know God changed the rules in Genesis 9, but if we were so keen on living in accord with God’s original intent, vegetarianism is the most biblical answer.) More importantly, Why, if the subjection of women to their husbands is a result of the fall, has it taken the church so long to recognize women as restored to their antelapsarian state as equal collaborators?

These seem to be to be questions worthy of reflection in opposition to the view that the patterns laid out in Genesis are necessarily the only options available to the children of Adam and Eve, the children of God and siblings of Christ.

However, if there is no willingness to engage these questions, if we are simply at a standoff — none of us able to convince the other of the truth of our position, or even to discuss the matter with some degree of mutual care and willingness to perhaps change our minds — then our challenge is to see if we are able to live together in harmonious disagreement, and wait for time itself slowly to winnow truth. I am certainly willing to do so, as I think there are far more important matters facing us, about which we do have significant agreement, and our efforts and resources would be well spent in their pursuit. Such as the mission of the church to restore people to unity with each other and God in Christ.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

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* A helpful correction from Bill Carroll

Huntington’s Way

Today is the centenary of William Reed Huntington. The Anglican Communion might well take a leaf from his book — or any of his books — in order to address its present squabbles. Huntington was as interested in consensus as any of us today, but he realized that we are very unlikely to achieve consensus on everything. Instead he set apart four basic points of reference for unity: the four points that go to make up the well-known Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral.

The chief dilemma facing the Anglican Communion today is our lack of common mind on certain questions of sexuality. In spite of the assertions that Lambeth 1.10 represented a consensus or a common mind, both the intensity of the debate and the politics surrounding its adoption, as well as the significantly divided vote, indicate at most a majority view not a consensus; and had the resolution been divided and voted on clause by clause, I am convinced that the vote on certain of them would have been even closer. Had it not been for the countervailing weight provided by the promise of "listening," I have no doubt that some who ended up voting for the resolution would have opposed it. We are now 10 years on and I do not believe the same resolution would have been adopted by as wide a margin.

So our present divisions come from moving beyond the issues upon which we do have consensus by raising particular items of pastoral theology to the level of dogmatic theology. And, for those who have raised the issue, it isn't about Scripture (one of Huntington's four points) or even primarily the authority of Scripture, but the interpretation of Scripture, and the weight the church chooses to give to those interpretations (which is really what authority means as a fact on the ground.)

Ultimately it comes down to the principles around which consensus will be centered. It is always "consensus on or about what?" Approximately half of the Anglican Communion does not see the sexuality issue as Communion-dividing, even among some who do not agree on a progressive trend on that topic. The other half do see this as worth dividing over --- some more permanently than others.

So there is no consensus even on whether this is a matter over which we must divide.

Can we maintain some form of Communion in spite of that lack of consensus on these particular issues? Do we even have a consensus that an Anglican Communion (as it has long been understood — a fellowship of autonomous provinces or churches in communion with the see of Canterbury) ought to continue? Those who think we can't or shouldn't, won't. Those who are willing to accommodate each other will.

The question — as with marriage — isn't, how do you hold together when you agree? It is, how do you remain together when you don't agree? Those who think, misunderstanding Amos, that you cannot remain together unless you agree (KJV; Hebr: make an appointment), appear to be making their choice to walk apart. They do not want to remain together "for better, for worse" but only when all agree with them on all on which they alone deem agreement to be vital.

The Communion and the church cannot long survive such self-fulfilling prophets. Only those committed to each other with a depth of toleration and charity — in spite of disagreements — will form the basis of the future Anglican Communion.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Reading Rowan's Mind

The Pluralist (Adrian Worsfold) has composed a stunning and biting satire of Archbishop Rowan Williams which I commend to your attention. It seems to me to be a particularly vivid portrayal of the divided mind of a Primate. It even touches, in an uncannily accurate way, on some of the conversation a handful of GC Deputies had with the Archbishop on the patio in Anaheim. So accurately, in fact, that I need not here recount further details of that conversation.

However, I want to respond to a public comment the Archbishop made at the beginning of his sermon at the daily Convention Eucharist, in what he himself alluded to as speaking "simply and directly." He said that said he hoped the Convention would do nothing that might "push us further apart." He also observed, in something that seemed innocent at the time, but took on a more sinister connotation as time went on, that "if we felt we could do perfectly well without you, there wouldn't be a problem." Hmmm...

But back to the "pushing." I hope that the Archbishop would grant that reacting and being pushed are not necessarily the same thing, and that people ought to take some responsibility for their own reactions to other folks' actions, Newton's Third Law notwithstanding. The church as a whole, and the various local churches of which it is constituted are not mere passive subjects of external action, but entities with their own energetic concerns and capabilities.

Being offended and taking offense are subtly different things. John's choice to eat asparagus may offend Jane who despises the vegetable, even though she is not forced to eat it. But she has a choice and responsibility as to how she reacts: She can simply tolerate the presence of the disliked stalks, or stalk from the room in an irritable hissy fit. But which is more Anglican? Whatever, after all, has happened to the good old English custom of ignoring unpleasant realities. Many things, if left alone, will work themselves out in time. And even if they don't, the Anglican talent for simultaneously believing two impossibly contradictory things (about the Eucharist) before breakfast, is as true for Queen Elizabeth's settlement as that of the Red Queen of Looking Glass Land.

As I have said before, it seems to me the greatest damage done to the Anglican Communion, beginning with Lambeth 1.10, was the reaction to rather modest liberalizing trends in the "Global North" and parts of the Global South (such as S Africa), which need have had no effect outside those limited spheres. The silly talk of "unilateral action" or comparisons to the invasion of Iraq indicate a level of fantastic paranoia, as if, to quote Monty Python, huge soiled budgies are going to come flocking out of people's loos and interfere with their privacy. For "budgies" read "gay bishops" and for "loos" read "dioceses." Any diocese that doesn't want a gay bishop functioning within its bounds need neither elect nor license one. The old rules that limit bishops in that way are a long-standing part of our catholic ecclesiology and there is no need for special sanctions or prohibitions.

At the meeting on the patio, I did manage to present Rowan with a copy of my book. He said he would read it, but I don't know if reading it will be of much help — apart from its appeal for peace and toleration. Rowan's problem is not with the theology of sexuality or blessing or orders, but with the institutional structure of the church, and the question of how its unity is to be constituted, guarded, and maintained. We Americans have been pushing our answer: the dignity of every human being through the Baptismal Covenant; while Rowan has been pressing for the more ecclesiastical Anglican Covenant.

Need I point out that the former reflects a truly catholic consensus, while the latter may simply be a road to the creation of a new confessional sect.

Such are my ruminations on this afternoon, sparked by Adrian's insightful parody. Blame him if you must.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

On the Island of Silence

Once upon a time there was an island far out in the sea on which none of the people ever spoke a single word or made a single sound. No one knows why this was — it could be that those who first colonized the island lacked the ability to speak, or perhaps had nothing to say! But the present inhabitants, though capable of speech, had long since forsaken it, and instead communicated with each other by means of facial expressions and gestures, in which, over time, they had developed considerable eloquence.

One day, a ship was blown off course and the seafarers happened upon this island. As the captain grounded his storm-tossed ship upon the beach, he saw a native of that place in the forest not far off, and called out to him. The man standing among the trees looked this way and that, as if unable to locate the source of the sound. Eventually after repeated calls from the captain and others of the crew, the man on the shore recognized where the sound was coming from. His eyes widened in horror and his eyebrows almost rose off his forehead, and then he averted his gaze with a frown of disgust, and gestured with both hands as if to push the ship back out to sea. He then turned and disappeared into the forest.

The crew were astounded at this reception, but debarked and went in search of fresh water. Before long they stumbled into the village that served as the metropolis of the tiny island. But everyone to whom they tried to speak greeted them with the same look of horrified astonishment and gesture of disgusted dismissal. It soon became apparent to the seafarers that they were the topic of much and lively discussion — though they could understand none of it, as it was all conducted in the silent language of the island. Had they understood they might have saved their lives. For this is what the islanders were saying about them.

How have we offended our gods that they should visit such a tribulation upon us? These people, if we can call them people, have not the least sense of discretion or decorum about them, and however much we tell them to stop their indecent behavior they keep it up — openly and shamelessly using the organ the gods have given us only for the purpose of nourishment — whereon our very lives depend — using this sacred organ of life for, well, one supposes it can only be called a kind of “communication,” as they appear to be able through this perversion of nature to carry on a limited form of conversation among themselves, and even seem to be trying — the gods forbid it! — to draw us into this vile imitation of social intercourse.

Some few of you say that they should be gagged to stop this outrage, or that their tongues should be cut out, since they have so misused them. But the consensus is instead that such halfway measures will not serve. Therefore, let us do away with these monsters before their corruption infects us, lest any of our young people be tempted so to misuse the lips and tongue the gods have given us to eat and drink and taste with, to practice this obscene parody of “language.” Bind them up quickly, and let them be slain and buried under a heap of stones, that our children and our children’s children may know in the days to come of our love for our gods, and our obedience to the sacred traditions handed down to us.

And so it was that the islanders preserved their way of life, and the unfortunate seafarers met their end.

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Saturday satire from Tobias Haller BSG

Come thou Long Expected Advent Letter

Well, the Archbishop of Canterbury has issued his Advent letter, strangely enough a day after his Christmas greeting.* The form and content of the Advent letter perhaps make it clear why it was delayed: it is no brief greeting but a rather detailed examination of the situation in which the Anglican Communion finds itself. For the Archbishop of Canterbury it represents something of a breakthrough in clarity, even though the situation it describes remains rather fuzzy; it is rather like a very sharp photograph of a painting by Monet — perhaps of a cathedral in the late afternoon sun.

So what can we draw from this letter. I think a few points are worth noting.

• The Episcopal Church has done about all it can do in relation to meeting the demands placed upon it by the primates. This will not be (and has not been) enough to satisfy some of those same primates; so there is at present no consensus as to how well TEC has complied with those demands.
• The decisions of the Lambeth Conference, while not canonical, represent the "mind" of the Communion even if they do not represent a consensus. There is thus a some tension between a general agreement, a majority view, and a true consensus.
• The major problem now is that there is no consensus about a process by means of which a consensus can be reached: we need to have a covenant, but until we have one we have no way of deciding how to get one, unless everyone agrees — and those who don't agree are ipso facto no longer part of the consensus. This is a self-fulfilling prophecy.
• Lambeth 2008 will be the forum for all of this to come to a head, and any invited who refuse to come have abdicated their place at the table, and perhaps in the Communion. Those who are not invited are not being invited because they represent, in different ways, breaches in the status quo ante of Lambeth 1998.
• We are in this together and we should stay together. We just need rules we can all agree to, and then we'll all agree.
  
• More committees and commissions will be formed to continue the dialogue as we continue to work our way through these differences of opinion. When we've decided we've got enough in common to stay together, we will stay together. Those of us who are still there, of course.
  

This admirable clarity being acknowledged, the Archbishop still does not appear to grasp that the House of Bishops in the Episcopal Church is an equal partner with the House of Deputies in the General Convention. They do not have any "decisive" power to operate contrary to the decisions of that Convention; although as part of that Convention they do hold an absolute veto power over any decisions of that Convention (as, of course, do the Deputies). If this is what the Archbishop means (that the Bishops alone can hold the line at GC 2009) then he is spot on. But if not, it appears the place of Bishops in our governance is one of those things that simply will not penetrate the Archbishop's psyche. They are not the primary theologians of the church; and in the Episcopal Church they are only one strand of its governance. At least the Archbishop has finally acknowledged that this may be a matter in which there is a difference between what TEC believes and what he thinks is believed "elsewhere in the Communion." And yes, it does need to be addressed.

So, where does this Advent letter leave us? About where we are. No further forward, no further backward. The Archbishop has admirably described the present situation, more precisely than he has heretofore. And the way forward, in his eyes, is further engagement and dialogue rather than separation. Several balls have been cast into several courts, and whether any are kicked back remains to be seen. I do not look for this Advent letter to find wide approval among those itching for decision. It is good, in Advent, to be reminded, "woe to those who look for the day of the Lord."

Tobias Haller BSG

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*Update: According to Jake, whose more thorough commentary I commend, the Advent Letter to the Primates was actually sent to the Primates earlier, but only released now when it was assumed that all the Primates have received their copy.

Further Update: Jake has received an e-mail from no one less than Venables himself, who declares that he, as a Primate, received the Archbishop's Letter at the same time as everyone else, on December 14. This would certainly explain his having made assertions the week before which the letter shows to have been profoundly mistaken. I do not, by the way, share Jake's assessment on this question, as I see the ABC's letter as a strong rebuke to the nonsense in San Joaquin and elsewhere.

The Gospel via Chicago

They came from as far as the antipodes: primates and bishops, laity and clergy, theologians, journalists and politicians, gathering in Chicago at Seabury-Western Theological Seminary for three days of intense discussion, planning, and strategizing. Theologians and canonists read papers (which will be available on the web in relatively short order), the assembly divided into small groups and regathered into plenary, and much newsprint was marked. Why? A modest goal — To help the church recover its soul, as a community of neighbors, a fellowship of diverse members unified by the love which called them together, through the power of the Holy Spirit.

The Chicago Consultation, as it is being called for short, addressed the prevailing boundary issue that has beset our church and our Communion over the last decades, and most irritably over the last six years: the place of GLBT people in the church’s life and ministry.

In plenary sessions and small groups, we challenged ourselves to find a way forward that would be grounded in the powerful message of Jesus’ call and care. We focused on the the full inclusion of those whom some have determined to be inappropriate minsters of the Gospel, embracing the mandate and charge which comes with the highest authority, and in response to the question, “Who is my neighbor?”

Lambeth is coming, little more than half a year away; and it too will be a forum which will provide the bishops, albeit non-legislatively, an opportunity to consider and reconsider their own past actions, and to recognize that the so-called consensus of 1998 was far from complete even then, and has demonstrably revealed itself no longer to exist, having led to increasing conflict, dissent, and in some cases, division.

Further away on the time-line is the next session of the General Convention. This will provide us with the opportunity to reevaluate the usefulness of resolution B033, and address the underlying issue of the appropriateness of moving forward in our growing recognition that same-sex couples, particularly in those parts of our country where the civil authority already recognizes the value of their relationships, deserve the church’s full support in ordering their lives in consistency with the Gospel principle: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

This is the only “agenda” guiding the Chicago Consultation: to call and help the church to live the Gospel it proclaims.

Tobias Haller BSG

For more information, see Inch at a Time, Preludium, and keep an eye on Episcopal Café.

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Where We Are

As I noted in a comment to the previous post, my bishop held a Town Hall meeting yesterday for clergy of the diocese. He and our suffragan bishop both spoke, as well as the vicar bishop and an old friend who although he retired as a diocesan some years ago has probably held more positions since his “retirement” than most bishops do in their entire ministry.

Two of the clergy present spoke very forthrightly about the extent to which the House of Bishops’ statement was a source of considerable pain to gay and lesbian members of their congregations. The bishop seemed at first to be slightly nonplused by this response, but then said some very profound things about the state of our church. I’ve been reflecting on them since.

[Update 10/1/07: a few people, including one reasserter blogger, have misunderstood what follows to be a summary of what the bishops said. This is not the case. The following comments are my personal reflections on the situation, in part in reaction to some of the things the bishops at the Town Hall meeting said.]

In keeping with an effort towards descriptive rather than prescriptive analysis, this is a sobering exercise in considering the state of The Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion. What follows may be hard to hear, but I think these things need to be said. I will frame them simply as bullet points; I welcome commenters who disagree with my assessments to say so — but I am trying to be clearly, if not brutally, honest.

• It is very easy, in a liberal parish in a liberal diocese to come to think that The Episcopal Church as a whole is much more liberal than it really is. This applies to the Anglican Communion as well.
• The House of Bishops as a whole — even with the “Network” bishops missing — is not as liberal as its most liberal members. When they gather, something between the Hive Mind and the Stockholm Effect takes place. The whole is often less than the sum of its parts.
• The idea that gay and lesbian persons are full and equal members of the church is more of a hope than a reality. The ground has shifted considerably from 1979 (when General Convention resolution A053 recommended that bishops and standing committees not allow the ordination of “practicing homosexuals” to any order of ministry) to 2006 (when B033 recommended withholding consent only for the episcopate, for candidates whose manner of life might challenge the wider church) to this week in 2007 when the House of Bishops clarified that yes, this does include partnered gay and lesbian persons.
• That gay and lesbian persons continue to put up with the church may also be a sign of the Stockholm Effect, or of their great faith. I prefer to think it is the latter.
• While no one has a right to be ordained, or a right to get married (the hierarchy has veto powers on both matters) still these may have come to be seen as reasonable expectations, to some extent encouraged by a gradual movement towards greater toleration in the desuetude of 1979's A053, and the increasing practice of pastoral provision for same sex blessings in a significant minority of dioceses.
• This impression was also encouraged by a crucial act in 2003. The consent to the election of Gene Robinson was a “false dawn” — and was not the celebration of gay and lesbian equality it was perceived to be. The consent had more to do with Gene’s superb personal qualities and track-record as an excellent priest than with his sexuality and his partnership. The consent was given in spite of, not in affirmation of, his private life. The consent to his election thus made it appear both to us and to the world that we were moving faster than we actually were.

So, where are we then, speaking practically, and what can be done to encourage gay and lesbian persons that they have not been abandoned? A number of our bishops have already issued letters or commentary on the House of Bishops’ meeting, affirming their personal commitment in their own dioceses to continuing the struggle. That, I think, is the best that can be said at this point.

As I suggested in an earlier post, it is high time to proclaim that Lambeth 1998 1.10 does not represent the consensus of the Anglican Communion — and remind people that fully a third of the bishops present voted against the clause on the compatibility of same-sex relationships with Scripture: so that even if this is a majority view, it cannot by any reasonable definition of the term be called a “consensus.”

Meanwhile, the struggle continues — perhaps made a bit easier by the behavior of the radical right in their essential withdrawal from the process and choice literally to walk apart, both at the national and communion level. I take some hope in this — but it is a hope, not a thing achieved. What I say here may not be of great comfort to those who had come to believe that The Episcopal Church was more welcoming as a whole than it actually is. There are many parishes even in the most liberal dioceses where a gay or lesbian person cannot be honest about who they are. There are many dioceses in which clergy with partners continue to function, faithfully serving their parishes, from the closet. God willing, this will change in my life time. But even if it doesn’t, I know that the theologies of heterosexism are doomed, and that the day will come when the hope to which the bishops referred is realized.

For the present, a luta continua.

Tobias Haller BSG

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A Proposed Resolution for Lambeth 2008

Resolved, That given the debate, division and dissent to which it has given rise, Resolution 1.10 of the 1998 Lambeth Conference no longer represents the consensus of the Anglican Communion.

—Tobias Haller BSG

Plus ça change

There is an old saying about going away for a week and returning to find a changed world. Having been away for a week I find, upon my return, not so much a change as a continuation. Still, a few incidents have spiked above the background and I’d like to comment on them here.

The Church as Social Network

The Anglican Communion Network held a meeting at which it adopted a number of statements, most of them in the “continuation” mode as opposed to that of “change.” Part of that continuation is the gradual dis-entanglement of the Network from what its Moderator seems to be coming to regard as rather a lost cause. And that is what until now has been known as the Anglican Communion — the one with the Archbishop of Canterbury as first among equals. Protestations notwithstanding, the Network seems to be heading, along with the “Global South” towards the creation of a new and alternative Communion, no longer centered on Canterbury.

This has led one long time member of the Network, Dr. Ephraim Radner, to sever his relationship with it. I am not at all surprised, other than by how long it took Dr. Radner to see which way this particular convoy was heading. Dr. Radner, with whom I disagree on much but with whom I have had a number of helpful conversations over the years, represents what the hard-liners in the Network call the “Communion conservative” point of view. I suppose that I should call myself a “Communion progressive.” That is to say, both he and I see the Anglican Communion — in its historical form centered on Canterbury — as a gift to the church that is well worth preserving, imperfect and errant though it be. The Network seems instead to have adopted the Pure Society model for the church, in which unity is preserved only through allegiance to an agreed-upon and determinable truth.

A number of things strike me about this distinction. Classical Anglicanism, in the Elizabethan Settlement, represented comprehension rather than compromise: a capacity for sometimes strongly divergent views to be accommodated within a single household. Sometimes, as in the case of Eucharistic doctrine, this was managed by including opposing theories in equal measure. Sometimes, as with the doctrine of the Atonement, it was achieved by not singling out any one explanation for special recognition. Ultimately, as in the Lambeth Quadrilateral, a sense of commonality was achieved through a summary rather than a point by point exhaustive confessional list. (We have our Lord’s own example for the wisdom of this course, in the Summary of the Law as opposed to its detailed enumeration.) Rather like the clouds of quantum physics, the truth we proclaim is not yet collapsed into particular form, but is held to exist somewhere within the bounds the church has marked out as most probable. Our knowledge is incomplete, but sufficient.

The crucible of pluralism

It also strikes me that we are seeing, in the development of the Network, the final collapse of a geographical rootedness to the church. We are entering the world of the virtual church, the Church of the Five Faves, the church not of geographical and terrestrial space, but of affinity: Ecclesiastical MySpace.

It should not come as a surprise that this is happening in America. Although the Netherlands should be recognized as the antecedent for Christian pluralism, it was in America that disestablishment and separation of church and state were not only held to be foundational in principle, but gave to the adherents of the various sects all of the elbow room that Manifest Destiny could provide. As the preface to the first American Book of Common Prayer noted:

But when in the course of Divine Providence, these American States became independent with respect to civil Government, their ecclesiastical independence was necessarily included; and the different religious denominations of Christians in these States were left at full and equal liberty to model and organize their respective Churches, and forms of worship, and discipline, in such a manner as they might judge most convenient for their future prosperity...

Many of us, in the midst of this swirl of possibilities, have chosen to seek to hold to that earlier vision of Anglican comprehensiveness as opposed to sectarian divisiveness. We have seen the Anglican Communion as a way to remain united in essentials while allowing a tolerable variety on matters about which a complete consensus has either ceased to exist or has not yet emerged.

I believe that this Anglican Communion — the fellowship of autonomous churches in communion with the See of Canterbury — will continue to exist.

It will continue, but it will be changed.

Some who have been part of this Anglican Communion until now have already made it clear they see a different future for themselves. As they are not forsaking Christ, but only this fellowship, I can wish them Godspeed. They are not lost; merely detached. Time will tell if these branches will be grafted onto other stocks, gathered into a bundle, or planted separately, where they may thrive — or not. They may eventually be grafted back to the stock that gave them life. Whatever the future, let us not cease to be open to the possibility of restoration, and a vision of unity in variety that is truly Anglican.

Tobias Haller BSG

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See the follow-up post for further discussion in addtion to the comments below.