Trouble in Tanzania

Word has come from the Church of Tanzania that communion is “severely impaired” with the Episcopal Church, and there will be no further dealings with anyone who is “homosexual” or who has approved of just about anything having to do with “homosexuality.” In addition to the condemnation and the declaration of impaired communion, the Church of Tanzania joins the Church of Uganda in stating that it will no longer accept financial or material support from The Episcopal Church or its tainted coffers.

Frankly, I don’t know what theological justification there can be for refusing financial help from those deemed unclean. Certainly Israel was instructed to take as much as they could from the Egyptians when they set off on their Exodus (3:22). And I don’t recall the pericope about the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:35) ending,

And when the man recovered from his wounds, and hearing that the one who had helped him was a Samaritan, he cursed the day of his birth, saying, “Woe is me that I should be helped by an unclean sinner.” And entreating the host to cast the coins he had received onto the dungheap, for they were unclean as coming from unclean hands, he wrote letters to his friends in a far country, earnestly desiring that they should send him money that he might pay the host all that he owed.

Nor did Jesus refuse the help of the Samaritan woman, though he had better water for her than she for him (John 4:7). So the idea that money from TEC should by no means be allowed to taint Tanzanian hands seems to be a novel idea based on notions of ritual purity; which would explain a great deal.

Now, if this refusal of funds merely meant one less perk for the bishops who passed this legislation, that is, if it really concerned them directly, I would say, fine. But the money these bishops are refusing isn’t meant for them — it is for ministries to the hungry, the poor, the widows and orphans — of which there are hundreds of thousands in Tanzania. The bishops are holding a metaphorical gun to the heads of these suffering hostages, and threatening to pull the trigger unless The Episcopal Church repents and recants. Do you think that image overwrought? We are talking here literally of life and death for many of these innocents. And while going on a hunger strike oneself to force others to an act of conscience is one thing, to make others undertake a starvation strike seems altogether immoral. I don’t know what ethical system these bishops were instructed in, but in my book (you know, the one with an Old and a New part) the primary duty of those who would serve God is to serve the suffering, not to demand adherence to a purity code.

Of course, this is only the latest chapter in the continuing saga of those who think of themselves as holy versus those who do the things Jesus actually commanded his disciples to do. Let me explore one of the earlier chapters with you, and how Jesus dealt with one who thought he knew where holiness was to be found — and not found.

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In the present debates the story of “The Woman Taken In Adultery” has come up more than once. This episode from our Lord’s ministry, appearing only in some versions of the Gospel of John, and occasionally in Luke, is cited by “liberals” for its notes of tolerance and suspension of judgment and by “conservatives” for its call for reformation of life. As with much of Scripture its one-size message apparently fits all.

There is another gospel episode, however, that I find much more apposite to our present case, called “The Anointing in Bethany.” John (12:1-8) places the scene in the hospitable and somewhat irregular household of Martha, Mary and Lazarus, while Matthew (26:6-13) and Mark (14:3-9) place it in the home of Simon the leper. All three evangelists highlight the extravagant offering of perfume, the diversion of resources that might have served the poor, and Jesus’ response that serving him in this instance takes precedence. (In these cases the Tanzanian and Ugandan fund-refusers might — by a squint-eyed misunderstanding of Jesus — have some remote justification for letting the poor be “always with them” while they serve Jesus directly. Point is, Jesus has now told us, in his absence, to serve him in the poor. Sorry, bishops.)

Luke (7:36-50), however, with his characteristic urge to highlight issues of salvation and redemption, places the scene in the enemy camp, in the home of Simon the Pharisee, whose concern is not with perfume or the poor, but with the woman, or rather, with the sort of woman he knows her to be, not an individual person so much as a member of a despised class of people.

The Pharisee no doubt thinks that he has escaped the snares of sin by his careful observance of the rules. There is no hint that it ever occurs to his purified conscience, “If this man were a prophet he would not accept my invitation to dinner, for he would know what sort of man I am.” No, the Pharisee is prudent; he is temperate. Like his confrère who compared himself favorably to the tax collector, the great gulf between his upright life and this fallen woman’s lifestyle is obvious to him. “Yes,” he might say, “we are all sinners; but some are clearly more sinful than others.”

And Jesus appears at first to ratify this assessment: he offers the analogy of debt forgiveness, forgiveness to one who owed much and to one who owed little. But Jesus doesn’t stop there, with what the Pharisee could well take as a flattering assessment, a pat on the head for his correct answer to the moral drama unfolding at his dinner table.

Instead Jesus presses home the significance of the answer: the Pharisee has judged himself, correctly this time, and Jesus goes on to compare and contrast Simon’s parsimonious welcome with the woman’s lavish and costly service.

The Pharisee welcomes Jesus to the table, but keeps him at arms’ length and sits in judgment — and in error. For Jesus not only knows what sort of woman it is who is ministering to him, but knows it better than the Pharisee possibly can, better than the Pharisee knows himself. The Pharisee cannot fathom why Jesus would allow a sinner to be a minister to him, or at least such a sinner. Of his own trifling sins he cares but little, for he is sure of his own righteousness. But this woman! That is another matter altogether. And so he sits in double judgement, of the woman and her Lord.

She, on the other hand, isn’t worried about her sins, which indeed are many. Nor is there a mention of repentance concerning her tears — unusual for Luke! Rather these are responsive tears of love flowing from faith and hope, from the knowledge of forgiveness, the theology of virtue encompassed and expressed in a woman thought by the Pharisee incapable of goodness, a woman who incarnates and enacts the liturgical sacrament of baptism with her confession of faith, the washing of her tears, and anointing her Lord with fragrant ointment, sealed with the kiss of peace.

So we are presented with two models for our own encounter with Christ, with Christian ministry, with service to the body of Christ which is the church. All who serve the Lord are sinners, all who serve the Lord are forgiven. Some will prefer to spend their time worrying about other people’s sins and how the church can tolerate them. They will seek to obstruct their service, thinking all the while that they protect God’s body from the touch of unclean hands. Others will get on with the works of faith, of hope, and of love. Is there any question at all which Christ would rather have us do?

— Tobias Haller BSG

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When Theology Cloaks Bigotry

Rowan Williams is in the midst of a political correctness debate concerning student unions and the right of folks to express traditional views without fear of being called bigots. I will note in passing Williams' apparent disregard for the Pauline justification for marriage ("better to marry than to burn") when he suggests that all homosexual persons could without harm to themselves remain celibate -- certainly Paul didn't expect that of all heterosexuals! The Anglican Scotist has explored this with his customary depth of insight.

More importantly to the issue at hand, he seems not to be fully aware of the core ethical dilemma: Does the fact that a negative opinion towards another rests on some theological opinion or belief wipe away any guilt? One needs to examine, I think, first, if the opinion is indeed a matter of the faith, or a mere cultural artifact. In the present situation "homosexuality" has been elevated to a place in our discourse that a cold-blooded examination of Scripture hardly warrants. (One might also do well to see if the "belief" is true or not; that is, does it truly reflect what the tradition and reason and the Scripture point to?) But secondly, must we not also consider the harm done by holding the negative opinion, even if it is justifiable on the foregoing bases; to ask, What is the fruit of this opinion? Does it build up, or does it in fact cause suffering? For generations, it was held as a core theological belief, justified by Scripture, that women are inferior to men; I need not retail the suffering such a theological opinion has wrought, and wreaks. Racism too finds ample justification in Scripture and the tradition -- and it is no use suggesting that such matters are trivial or medieval when the Dutch Reformed Church in South Africa only finally repented of their doctrinal support for apartheid in this last decade.

Finally, it would seem that the highest standard, one our Lord himself advised, was not to judge others, that is, not to have opinions about other people's moral standing. Even if such opinions are justified, it is best, we are told, not to indulge them.

&mdash Tobias Haller BSG

All Dressed Up

a sermon preached at Saint James Fordham on Advent 2c — Tobias Haller BSG
Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, O Jerusalem, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God. Put on the robe of righteousness that comes from God; put on your head the diadem of the glory of the Everlasting.

I’m going to start my sermon today with a question. I won’t ask for a show of hands, but I do want you to be honest with yourselves when I ask it. Ready? How many of us here have ever made use of the snooze button on our alarm clock or radio? How many of us here — if any — can honestly say that when the alarm clock goes off in the morning we pop right out of bed like a firefighter ready to jump into the boots at the foot of the bunk, strap on the uniform and slide down the brass pole?

Or put the shoe on the other foot: how many of us here haven’t stood at the foot of the stairs or down the hall, calling for the third or fourth time to a son or daughter or niece or nephew or grandchild, “It’s time to get up!” And how many of us have been on the other side of that call — enjoying the extra few moments in bed even more than the whole night that went before?

Well, I don’t think I am alone in this! It is, after all, a law of physics — Newton’s First Law, no less: a body at rest tends to remain at rest unless some outside force acts upon it. And in this case whether the force is an alarm clock or an insistent elder who has made breakfast and is beginning to threaten applying a most definite force to your most recumbent body — there comes a time when you know you actually do have to rise and, if not shine, at least feebly glimmer.

The next thing is that you have to wash and get dressed. And if it is Sunday, you know that you will be expected to put on, not just lounging-about-the-house clothes, not just everyday work or school clothes, but your Sunday Best. You will be expected not just to get up and get dressed, but to get all dressed up.

Nations and peoples act the same way as individuals, of course. Nations and peoples are, after all, just collections of individual people — prone to the same errors and bad habits; the same laziness and reprobation and backsliding — and sometimes the number of people can multiply the problem rather than correct it.

When someone comes along and says to the people, “It is time to get up and get dressed,” it is a rare thing indeed for the people to respond the first time around. It takes repeated calls and repeated warnings before most nations will rouse themselves to do what is right, to do what is just — to do what God calls them to do.

We see this clearly laid out in our Scripture readings today. Baruch calls on Jerusalem to put off her widow’s weeds, to arise and get herself ready and put on her party clothes — assuring Jerusalem that the path is going to be cleared, the hills made low and the valleys filled in, to bring about restoration and rebirth, a new life to the sorrowful land.

But, of course, Baruch wasn’t the first prophet to use such language. Years before, Isaiah spoke in exactly the same way, calling on Jerusalem to awake and arise and put on her beautiful garments. He also described God’s massive earth-moving plan — leveling mountains and filling valleys to prepare the way for a grand procession.

Nor, as we see from our Gospel today, was Baruch the last prophet to use such language. For here is John the Baptist, once again a prophet arising in that old tradition, dressed in the garments of Elijah, announcing once more the promise of God’s highway construction plan — and calling on the people to open their eyes to see the coming salvation of God — and if not to get dressed, at least to prepare for it by the washing of baptism, a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.

Israel needed to hear this wake-up call over and over. For it seems to be a part of the prophet’s fate not to be listened to — hence the need for repetition. People don’t want to listen to the prophets’ warning: remember what happened to John the Baptist! Try too hard to shout-out God’s wake-up call and you’ll get your head handed to someone else on a platter!

Yet Israel desperately needed to hear that repeated wake-up call. And we do too. That is in large part why we continue to hear these passages of Scripture year by year, every Advent hearing anew the call and the promise: the call to rise and shine, and the promise that the new bright garment of grace is there ready for us to don when we have washed away our sins, repenting our past ways and preparing for the great time that lies ahead. We are told that the way is clear — mountains leveled and valleys filled in — not just for God to come to us, but for us to go with God.

The question is — are we ready? Have we risen and washed, and are we dressed? Or are we still lying in the warm cocoon of slumber, with a pillow over our head to shut out the light? Well, we’re here in church — it’s true! But we all know how just as a body at rest tends to remain at rest, a body in motion will tend to stay in motion once it gets moving. So what I want to challenge you and me to ask ourselves this morning is: are we really awake and ready, or are we only sleep-walking? We are dressed up — but have we someplace to go? Are we truly motivated, or only going through the motions? Do we take advantage of this Advent time to examine our hearts and minds, to dig down deep and clean out the rubbish of old habits; to rub the sleep from the corner of our eyes, sweep up the old sins we’ve gotten accustomed to, or the old ways of the world we’ve come to accept as given?

For the world and its peoples love inertia — love to stay at rest, or move along predictable pathways, running downhill instead of mounting the heights. I was listening to a BBC reporter grill UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan earlier this week; and much as I admire Annan, I must say the BBC reporter was playing prophet to his Jerusalem — again and again asking, What use is the UN if it can’t actually do anything to stop the genocide in the Sudan? The powder-blue helmets look very nice, but what use are peace-keepers who don’t keep the peace?

And I would amplify that question, as the genocide continues there in the Sudan, and Northern Uganda is torn with violence, and civil strife is brewing in Nigeria. Do we ever learn? What use is it to say, “Never again” when the powers of this world just press the snooze alarm and say, “Just once more, please”; when the prophets call upon the powers of this world to lay down their swords, and the nations say, “How’s that again?” How many genocides does it take for the world to realize that if it keeps going that way there will be no one left?

The Secretary-General was not without his answer, however, and it was a good one, a realistic one, if not an optimistic one. He said that the UN can only do what people are willing to do. It is not an all-powerful force that can bend the world to its will. As I noted earlier, just as the world is made up of people — and since people are fallible the world makes mistakes — so too the UN is just what it claims to be: it is made up of all those nations, and if those nations individually don’t have the will to act — they will not act collectively. Bodies at rest will remain at rest unless an outside force is applied; bodies in motion, in motion — headed down the same old valleys of disaster.

And this is why, in the final analysis, we will not be able to solve our problems on our own. We will not because we cannot. An outside force is needed, just as Newton said. So this is why, in these last days, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born for us to be with us, born among us — but not merely one of us, but also the power of God incarnate, his way prepared by generations of prophets repeating the same message. Only God in Christ can finally and perfectly rouse us from the slumber in which we lie, even as we seem to be awake. Only he can truly waken us with his bright light, and wash us with the cleansing power not only of water but of his blood, and of the Holy Spirit’s fire. Only he can strip us of the robes of sorrow round us, and clothe us anew with the wedding garment we were meant to wear from before the foundation of the world.

And then, how can we not follow through? How can we not join our voices and raise them, calling out for Righteous Peace and Godly Glory. How can we not call for justice and work for justice, demand that peace be made, and that the innocent no longer suffer — we who have wakened, and who are called upon to rouse our sisters and brothers who still slumber in a world of violence and mischief, a world of hatred and fear, of ignorance and rebellion?

Sisters and brothers, a voice cries out for us to prepare the way of the Lord. A voice calls us to arise and shine and put on our festival garments, to climb to the heights to proclaim what we see. That voice has been calling for a long time, through Isaiah and Baruch and John the Baptist, and countless other prophets since. They point the way to the one who was, who is, and who is to come — the great External Force that can move all our bodies from rest — even from the rest of death — and put them into motion for his purpose, who has called us not merely servants but friends, and clothed us for the wedding banquet.

Let us then this season heed the prophets’ warnings, forsake our sins, be clothed with the garments of righteousness, and greet with joy the coming of our Redeemer and the Redeemer of the world, even Jesus Christ our Lord.+

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Bishop-Elect Mark Lawrence has issued a wholesale response to the many questions raised concerning his confirmation as Bishop of South Carolina. His answers have not apparently satisfied most of those who had concerns in the first place, based on his comments during his candidacy and after his election. Those, such as myself, who were troubled, are now decided. (In my case I don't have a vote, not being a member of a standing committee, and the election having taken place after rather than immediately before the General Convention meeting, in which case I would have had a vote.)

Let me see if I can "get it for you retail." What has bothered me most in what I have seen from Mark Lawrence, not only in the immediate context of his candidacy and election, is inconsistency. He took a strong stand against the confirmation both of Bishop Robinson and Bishop Beisner, not just voting against them but leading the opposition and framing the minority reports. Both of these men were put under intense scrutiny during the General Convention sessions in which their confirmations were acted upon. They were forthcoming. (Perhaps it was easier to "forthcome" when one could stand before a microphone in an overheated committee room while a panel of seated judges peppered one with accusations and calls for further explanation.) Their answers were fulsome and complete, and touched on deeply personal matters.

Mark Lawrence's wholesale responses, on the other hand, appear evasive, vague, fudgy and, to say the worst, duplicitous. (There is only one proper response to the "hypothetical" question, "If your diocesan convention votes to leave the Episcopal Church what would you do?" and that is (for starters) "I will do all in my power to prevent the diocese from making such an unconstitutional attempt, including charging clerical members of the Convention with violation of their Ordination Vows.")

So, on this matter, Mark appears to demand a level of accountability he is unwilling to give.

The second inconsistency is his alleged allegiance to "the Anglican Communion" as if it were a "church" rather than a communion of churches. As the recent Panel of Reference recommendation concerning New Westminster made clear, one is a member of the Anglican Communion through membership in a church that is a member of the Anglican Communion, and in this case that means The Episcopal Church. This is where Lawrence's misuse of the TEC Preamble comes in: the Episcopal Church is a constituent member of the Anglican Communion: a founding member, an element without which the Anglican Communion will cease to be what it claims to be; and if on the remote chance two-thirds of the Primates were to vote to expel The Episcopal Church from the Anglican Communion, they would in fact and in principle be approving the dissolution of the Communion by removing one of its constituent parts. That's what "constituent" means.

Then there is his strange use of the marriage analogy. To use marriage analogically (in the right way), nothing in the marriage vow suggests one party has the power over the faithfulness of the other, only over one's own faithfulness to that partner. This is part of the meaning of "for better, for worse." Lawrence seems here to want to make a conditional promise: I will remain faithful until either my own judgment, or some other judgment extrinsic to the Episcopal Church (the Primates, or some of them?) allows me to sever the relationship. That is not a Vow, it is a Pre-Nuptial Agreement.

And this brings me to my gravest concern, which is not for the church (which has worn out many an anvil) but for Mark. As a spiritual director, I can only note with horror the idea of someone making a vow with such a conditional attitude: that he will conform to the discipline of the church so long as it remains consistent with what he thinks it ought to be (and he suggests it even now isn't!). It is the actual Episcopal Church of the here and now to whose discipline Mark is being asked to conform — not some hypothetical church of the future more to his liking. Not being willing to commit unconditionally is an impediment, pure and simple. It isn't about Lawrence's positions on gay clergy, the authority of Scripture, or the ordination of women. It is in his inability to make a simple statement that he will conform to the discipline of the Episcopal Church even if he disagrees with it, come what may regarding the Anglican Communion.

Some have raised the issue of "What will happen?" if consents are not received. That, I would say, is a hypothetical question.

—Tobias Haller BSG

Yes, Virginia, There is a Bishop Here

Bishop Peter Lee of Virginia has issued a clarifying letter to congregations that had been engaged in a period of 40 days of "Discernment" concerning their future. In it, he lays out, in no uncertain terms, the time-worn polity of the Episcopal Church, the trustee relationship that Vestries play in relation to parish assets and real property, the significance of the Oath of Conformity for clergy and a similar undertaking required in Virginia of all members of Vestries, and the consequences (legal and canonical) of abrogating these oaths and undertakings. It concludes

As I have made clear on a number of occasions, each of you has my prayers if you feel that you must leave the Episcopal Church. You have freedom of conscience but that freedom does not include alienating the property of the church you have sworn to serve.

You and I have undertaken solemn commitments and made binding promises to be good stewards and caretakers of the real and personal property of the Diocese of Virginia and of the Episcopal Church. Those are commitments we are obliged to keep no matter what our future church affiliation may be. I pray that as the persons responsible for maintaining [your] Church, you will keep all of this in mind as you consider your actions as leaders of that parish and fiduciaries of the properties it holds in trust for the Episcopal Church and the Diocese of Virginia.

I pray that together we can reach a resolution to the issues where we differ that takes into account the promises we have made, our obligations of respect and care for one another and most of all expresses our obedience to Christ.

Faithfully yours,

Peter James Lee

Thank you, Bishop. You may don your gloves once more for the time being.

World AIDS Day Dec 1 2006

Apostate Disease

The apostate gland is a small organ lying somewhere near the heart. Although both men and women possess the organ, it appears to create more difficulties for men than for women. These difficulties seem to arise due to irritation from external sources, which causes enlargement and pressure on the heart. The primary symptom is a restlessness and discomfort with people with whom the patient disagrees, and hypersensitivity to having this pointed out, leading the patient to charge them with “apostasy” — hence the name of this otherwise obscure and apparently non-functional gland.

Lifestyle choices may play a role in the etiology of the illness, and Anglican Bishops appear to be especially at risk. Additional symptoms include

• frequent urge to fulmination
• having to get out of bed more than once in the night to check on some passage in Aquinas or Cranmer
• unsteady, weak, interrupted or wandering stream of argument
• hearing loss
• being a frequent pain in the lower back or neck
• difficulty in maintaining a seat in mixed assemblies

The ASA (Apostate Specific Antigen) test is indicative, but inconclusive of the exact nature of the underlying pathology. Benign Apostatic Enlargment may be treated with medication, but more serious forms of the disease require surgery.

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Tobias Haller BSG

Eating one's words

From real life as satire department

Mad Priest has pointed out a bit of documentary revisionism at the Vatican. Seems that back on Septebmer 27 the Holy Father made comments in a general audience including the statement that the Apostle Thomas "first evangelized Syria and Persia ... and then went on to Western India..., from where Christianity also reached Southern India." (Osservatore Romano, English Edition, 4 Oct 2006, page 10)

This was widely reported in India and caused no small concern to South Indian Christians, who have always held that Thomas evangelized them; this was taken as a slight to their apostolic heritage.

The Vatican version of the file was quietly edited recently, as this listing from the Vatican search engine reveals (note the file date of 24 Nov 2006):

General Audience, 27 September 2006 (English)
... Wednesday, 27 September 2006 Thomas the twin Dear Brothers and ... went on to Western India (cf. Acts of Thomas 1...
Date: 24/11/06 Size: 12k

The new revised standard version states that Thomas "first evangelized Syria and Persia ... then went on to Western India..., from where also he finally reached Southern India."

I'm glad that is all sorted out. Fortunately, the infallibility of His Holiness doesn't require the indelibility of his words. Otherwise he might have to eat them, and discover their inedibility.

Tobias Haller BSG

The Diocese and the Church

I come from seeing a few folks floating the idea that the Episcopal Church is "decentralized." I would say that on the contrary it is unitary, as no diocese can be created without national approval; nor can bishops be elected without national church approval, just for starters. All dioceses are required to give unqualified accession to the national Constitution and Canons. Between meetings of the General Convention, the church is managed by a national Executive Council. Where is this alleged "decentralization"? (Please note, I use "national" here for convenience: there are a number of "international" dioceses part of the Episcopal Church -- and they have say too, equally with those in the US.)

This structural reality also has bearing on the property question concerning dioceses that attempt to leave The Episcopal Church. "Who gets the property" is amply answered by the wording of the relevant canon: (I.7.4)

All real and personal property held by of for the benefit of any Parish, Mission or Congregegation is held in trust for this Church and the Diocese thereof in which such Parish, Mission or Congregation is located.

If a "diocese" were to assert it is no longer "of this Church" it would forfeit the property under this canon, since the property is held for this Church and the Diocese thereof. So when a diocese "leaves" (if it could) or simply is dissolved (as is more likely) the property reverts to "this Church" -- that is, The Episcopal Church, governed since 1789 by the Constitution and Canons of General Convention.

Bethany

Lazarus chose the best of all,
not merely the better part:
utter love of the belovèd Lord,
utter death to self;
when Jesus wept,
recall from death.

Through utter love in life,
through utter inactivity in death,
in utter response from beyond death into life,
he silences both Martha’s pots and pans,
and Mary’s piety.

— Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG
Thanksgiving Day, 2006

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Screwtape to Wormwood, 2006

My dear Wormwood,

I want to pass along a brief note in recognition of the wonderful work you are doing with the Anglicans these days. Anglicans in general have been rather bland fare for quite some time, but your introduction of some new condiments has a spiced things up quite delightfully. I don’t think I’ve experienced such delectable invective since the late 19th century. Of course, it can’t hold a candle to the Reformation, but it does show signs of promise for a sumptuous feast.

But first of all, credit where credit is due: and much of it must be given to Glumsnaggle, our new IT manager, for the way in which he has managed to transform the Internet from a useful tool for communication into a positive cesspool of trivialization, mischaracterization, libel and slander — and my old favorite, assertion masked as argument. Oh, I never tire of that one. Fortunately, neither do they! Of course, he merely had to guide the process, but it has assured him a place in the Lowerarchy, and I hear he may even be on the Dishonors List.

Along the line of credit where due, I must say you appear to have taken a leaf out of the Enemy’s book, and are becoming positively creative. You have got your patients to the point where they are simultaneously claiming and rejecting authority (of any and all sorts, no less!) without seeing the contradiction. You’ve got them taking each other’s arguments at the very worst, and picking nits like there’s no tomorrow — true enough for some of them, as they will soon discover when they arrive in the Infernal Kitchen.

Just a bit of avuncular advice as you continue your work: by all means keep them focused on themselves, and on institutional questions — Who Gets to Be In Power. I mean, you can be creative as you like with the details, but the “tried and false” methods are always best to Fall back on. I think I do not need to remind you of the First Principle of The Tempters’ Manual, “Remember the Apple.”

Which brings me to my central concern: this unfortunate attention on the part of some of your patients to these so-called Millennium Development Goals. It would really be most unhelpful to our cause to have them actually do the things the Enemy wants them to do, to set aside self-obsession and do something about disease, poverty, ignorance, and so on. Anything you can do to persuade them that these MDGs are just “secular” will be to your advantage. I had a lovely curried Goat last night — one of the Old Souls that I’d kept in reserve; and you know, he still didn’t get it! As I savored him bite by bite, he kept whimpering, “But when did we see you hungry or thirsty or in prison...” Delicious.

So, Nephew, in closing, I advise you to apply yourself to this two-pronged approach: play up the institution and downplay what it is actually meant to accomplish, as it could turn out to be a disaster for us if this movement catches on.

Your Uncle,
Screwtape

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— Tobias Haller BSG, with thanks to C.S. Lewis

In the Cause of John Jay

I am very happy to report that the 230th Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of New York has adopted the resolution asking the Bishop to authorize the commemoration of John Jay on May 17, using a proper to be developed by the Diocesan Liturgical Commission. My suggestion? Zechariah 8:1-8, Psalm 119:9-16, and Luke 10:25-37.

Now, to begin working on the icon...

—Tobias Haller BSG

Diocesan Divorce Court?

The Diocese of Pittsburgh has, by a recent action of its Diocesan Convention, withdrawn its consent to being part of Province III of the Episcopal Church. Citing Article VII of the Constitution, which states that no Diocese shall be included in a Province without its consent, it would seem the case is clear, and that Canon I.9.1 assigning Pittsburgh its provincial status is nullified.

I believe this view rests on faulty reasoning. The Chancellor of Pittsburgh raises the issue of the Constitution’s ambiguity, but I believe in doing so he defeats his own claims. For Article VII is only ambiguous to the extent it is capable of being misunderstood, by removing it from its legal and historical context, as has the Chancellor. He claims that the consent of the Diocese to inclusion in a Province is not simply an initial consent at the time of inclusion, but a continued consent for as long as inclusion continues. Had the Constitution been intended to refer only to the initial consent given at the creation of the Provinces, or the initial inclusion of Dioceses within them, he claims that the framers could have stipulated consent “at the time of admission” as part of the Article.

However, what the Chancellor ignores is that such clarifying language was not necessary to convey such a meaning, since at the time of the adoption of Article VII in 1901 initial inclusion was the only meaning possible, since the Provinces did not yet exist.

This Article was the enabling resolution that gave the General Convention the authority to create a provincial structure, and it took a dozen years to realize, when the General Convention finally (in 1913) adopted the Canon actually uniting all of the Dioceses of the Church into Provinces, stating that “the Dioceses of this Church shall be and are hereby united into Provinces” subject to the very proviso of the Constitution upon which the Chancellor makes his incorrect claim — that the diocese will remain in some state of perpetual consent — but which rather ensures that the dioceses will have consented to this action. It was not a question, as the historical record shows, of Dioceses wishing to remain unattached to any Province, but rather having the right to determine which Province they would consent to join. General Convention constituted the Provinces via a Canon — not via the Constitution, which had ceded that power to the General Convention.

Finally, any possible ambiguity about whether to be included means to become or remain a part of a Province is resolved by the legal use of the word consent. For “in law,” consent signifies not a kind of general or ongoing willingness, but “deliberate concurrence in the terms of a contract or agreement, of such nature as to bind the party consenting.”* And, as I addressed earlier with the word impediment, in the context of a legal document (such as the Constitution) words must be taken in their legal sense.

An analogy may be helpful: as with marriage, consent precedes union, and depends upon it. No one would suggest that the legal principle “no one shall be married without their consent” means anything other than that consent is required for and prior to the initiation of the marriage, and once consent is given, and the marriage rite performed, it takes more than a mere change of mind or heart — or unwillingness to abide by the consent once given — formally to end the marriage.

In the present case, it would appear the only body capable of severing the connection of the Diocese with the Province is the General Convention, who has the power to amend the Canon in question — as they have had cause to do over the years with the creation of new Dioceses and Provinces. If Pittsburgh wants a divorce — and if such a thing is possible (other than transferring Pittsburgh to some other Province to which it consents to be joined) it can only be granted by the very General Convention from which the Diocese seems so eager to distance itself.

— Tobias Haller BSG

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* Webster’s New 20th Century Dictionary, Unabridged, Second Edition.

For the Sake of Truth

for the Feast of Richard Hooker: a sermon by Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

GRANT that we may maintain that middle way, not as a compromise for the sake of peace, but as a comprehension for the sake of truth. — The Collect for the feast of Richard Hooker

There once was a vicar in an English country church of whom his congregation said, “Our Vicar is like God — he is invisible on weekdays and incomprehensible on Sundays.” I hope that I will not in my reflections today prove to be the latter.

Incomprehensible is a synonym for “impossible to understand.” Such understanding can be pictured almost in a physical sense: for to understand is to stand under, as a table stands under what is placed upon it, and so must be larger and more stable than what it holds in order to sustain or support it. To comprehend in this sense is to hold the object of knowledge on the table of ones mind.

Which is why God is incomprehensible. We cannot comprehend God because however hard we try, we cannot wrap our finite minds around the infinite God; God will not fit on the table of the human mind, however rasa our tabula, however much room we make on it, however many leaves we add, because, as the old hymn says, God is broader than its measure.

And the same goes for Truth, if we are speaking of Truth With A Capital T — not just some true things, but the whole ball of wax, the Truth as a full and complete description of All That Is — for the description must be at least as complex as what it describes. Try, for example, to describe a zipper to someone who has never seen one. And when we get to natural zippers like the string of DNA that holds us all together and builds us up at the most fundamental level, the description will take volumes — the printed listing of the human genome, a single transcribed copy of just one DNA zipper, of which we each carry trillions of the real thing in our bodies, would take 200 volumes the size of the Manhattan phone book.

To make matters worse, the truth about what is — even as it is spoken — adds to the sum of what is. If we were to write down even a mere tally of all that is, without further comment or explanation, truly the universe itself would not be large enough to contain all the books that might be written. For the books themselves would add to the substance of the world, and with every word we wrote we would be adding to the subject of our enterprise, and the bibliographers and catalogers would soon have to take up their work. As the wise man said, “Of the making of books there is no end.”

Indeed, the only way to comprehend the Truth, in this fullest sense of the word, and as appears to be the aim laid out in the Collect for this feast of Richard Hooker, is to be outside of all that is. And since only God is outside of all that is, as God is the cause of all being and becoming, so only the mind of God can truly comprehend all Truth.

We get glimpses of this outside-in structure of reality in the visions of the saints and poets — in Byzantine icons and in Dante, and in William Blake too. Perhaps it is most vividly captured in that wonderful vision God imparted to Blessed Julian of Norwich: a God’s-eye-view of the universe, as she saw in the palm of her hand a tiny thing no bigger than a hazelnut, so frail it looked as if it would cease to be in a moment. And God told her, It is all that is, and it endures because God loves it. As Blake would later write,

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

That is the God?s-eye-view that only the odd mystic glimpses.

Now, in spite of the visions of the saints and poets — who are careful not to mistake these momentary experiences of God’s view of the world for their own accomplishment — most of us are wise enough to know our limits. As Hooker himself put it, “The true properties and operations of [God] are to know that which is not possible for created natures to comprehend; to be simply the highest cause of all things.” (5.53.1)

Yet in spite of this, some in the church from time to time do appear to think they have come into possession of the Truth, which usually turns out to be something far more prosaic and far less visionary — a set of right doctrines, or more commonly, right behaviors. And most of us have the good sense to realize that even this limited claim is a bit presumptuous. We have learned from the hard experience of the church’s history that what you don’t know can hurt you; and that often the church is at its most errant precisely when it claims to be most certain. It is rash for any in the church to claim the ability to see in a glass brightly: especially when the church’s rear-view mirror consistently warns us that objects are nearer than they appear — and we travel at our peril if we imagine that our view through the looking glass is either infallible or complete. Indeed, as we take that backward glance on the ecclesiastical autobahn, we see that behind us HeilsgeschichteStrasse — Sacred Story Street — is littered with the wrecks of time over which God towers in divine incomprehensibility.

Just ask Galileo, Richard Hooker’s contemporary, who set about the task of trying to record a few true things about the world, things evident to the senses, or at least to the senses aided and abetted by the telescope. He suffered the fate of being told that what was wasn’t, or at least wasn’t what he saw it was. Threatened with torture, he recanted and submitted to those who refused to know the truth of what is, so insistent were they on what they thought ought to be.

+++

Those on our side of the Tiber, the Anglicans, by Hooker’s day had learned their lesson the hard way. There had been enough burnings and tortures and beheadings on the scepter’d isle over mutually exclusive doctrines to satisfy the lust for certainty at least for a season. So a “settlement” to continuing vexatious matters emerged from the serendipitous arrival of a monarch like Elizabeth and a scholar like Hooker.

Now, Elizabeth, as a monarch, was probably more interested in compromise for the sake of peace than in comprehension for the sake of truth. She did not wish, as she said, to make windows into men’s souls. She knew that if she refrained from peeping into her advisors’ heads, she could benefit from the wisdom they would share around the privy council table, rather than having to commit those selfsame heads to the block and pike. As long as private opinion on divisive matters was kept in the privy closet, as long as one didn’t ask or didn’t tell, a form of peace could be maintained. Thus what Napoleon would later call the nation of shopkeepers kept the peace by means of compromise, the peaceful coexistence that falls a good deal short of true communion and community, but at least keeps heads on shoulders.

But as our collect reminds us, Hooker aimed higher. His Middle Way was not primarily a matter of compromise, but of comprehension. And the genius of comprehension lies in the breadth of its embrace, and in its confession of and willingness to live with an inevitable degree of error and ignorance. Hooker confesses that since we cannot know all things, and sometimes err in the things we think we know, we must allow room for all things, to make the table not infinitely broad (which is beyond our capacity) but broad enough to hold both the unforeseen and unexpected guest, as well as the uninvited and errant guest who shows up at the wrong party. Who knows, until the master comes, who really belongs there after all?

Hooker directs us to avoid the need for final answers on all but the minimally sufficient, and sufficiently salvific claims of the Gospel, secure truths at the heart of what it means to be Christian: centered on the existence of God, and the incarnation, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ —the eternal Gospel without which there really wouldn’t be any point in continuing the discussion, but beyond which all else is more or less provisional. As he said concerning baptismal faith: “Belief consisteth not so much in knowledge as in acknowledgment of all things that heavenly wisdom revealeth; the affection of faith is above her reach, her love to Godward above the comprehension which she hath of God.”(5.63.1)

So the final answers and the definitive positions on everything and anything, so beloved both by Calvinists and Papists, would give way in Hooker’s view to a more rational willingness to withhold and reserve final judgment on all but a very few core doctrines, to realize that mutually exclusive opinions on other matters cannot both be true — and in the long run neither might be true, and the real truth might lie somewhere else altogether. To cast the net broadly, to make the table wider; to expand the breadth of charity to include all possibilities on matters for which clear and final evidence is yet to be shown: this is Hooker’s rational and charitable mission, a willingness to treat our knowledge as sufficient, rather than complete, and certain, in certain matters, only of its own uncertainty; and above all to trust that all such knowledge and love are securely centered in the depths of God, where the Spirit moves and searches, and where alone wisdom is to be found.

For when one is truly in the communion of the Church, truly united with the other members of the body — which can only truly be a body when all the members are lovingly comprehended in it in spite of differing opinions on secondary matters — Deus ibi est: God is there. Next to this transcendent unity-in-communion all other modified and restricted uses of that word, even the one called “Anglican,” must surely pale in comparison. In the truly comprehensive communion of the whole Body of the Church, the blessed company of all faithful people, we are in God, and God is in us.

+++

And it is in this that we come to the grand reversal, the inside-out of God. Now, generally speaking, reversible garments are notable principally for being unattractive whichever way you wear them. But the inside-outness of God is quite another matter. Here we enter the amazing world — the real world, I might add — in which the inside is bigger than the outside — as observation shows us is true of most church buildings. God’s universe, it turns out, is more like those Byzantine icons or M.C. Escher lithographs than most people are willing to allow. This truth is summed up nowhere so well as in that Johannine avalanche of prepositions and pronouns from today’s gospel.

Jesus starts first from the expected greatness of God: “As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us” — so we are nested in God, resting in the palm of God’s hand like Thumbelina, safe in our hazelnut cradle.

But then comes the surprising reversal: Jesus prays, “I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one,” and suddenly we — made one in the mystical and holy communion of the Body of the Church, the Body of Christ, the temple to which God comes and deigns to be our guest — suddenly we hold Christ within us as he holds the Father within him, nested like a set of Russian dolls with God the Father in the innermost secret room of the human heart, the holy of holies, the privy chamber and closet of good council, and the human image and likeness become the frame to hold the true divine reality behind all that is, among us and within us always.

+++

And in this and this alone is the comprehension of the Truth, the whole Truth, and nothing but the Truth. I said earlier that God will not fit upon our mental tables; but there is one table on which God will fit, indeed, upon which God will fit in a few minutes. It’s right there in the sanctuary. In a few moments, the universe will turn inside out, the heavens will open and God will descend and condescend to be among us and with us, the Spirit will descend upon us and upon these gifts, and we will hold God in the palms our hands, and place God to our lips and, like Mary, become God’s earthly sanctuary. We in him and he in us, will become what we behold, and hold what we become.

Sanctified in this Truth, comprehended in this Body, fed with this food, may we be now and ever one, in the knowledge and the love of God, and the peace of God which passes understanding.

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A Man of Justice, Freedom and Peace

At the upcoming Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of New York, I am sponsoring a resolution to ask the Bishop to authorize the commemoration of John Jay on May 17, using a proper to be developed by the diocesan liturgical commission.

Those who only know of Jay from high school American history classes may well wonder why Jay could possibly figure on the calendar of the church. I was in much the same position until an attorney friend and colleague from a neighboring diocese brought Jay to my more devoted attention!

He also pointed out to me that the American Book of Common Prayer’s calendar commemorates no American layman — with the exception of Jonathan Daniels, who was a seminarian. This is not for a lack of people on whom to draw, and among them is John Jay (1745-1829), who as most of us know was a major figure in the early days of American politics, serving in the Continental Congress, on numerous diplomatic missions, and as the first Chief Justice of the Supreme Court.

But Jay was not only pivotal in the creation of this nation, and the peaceful settlement of the Revolution, but in the early constitution of the Episcopal Church, locally and nationally. He supported Bishop Provoost of New York, and was a close friend of the first Presiding Bishop William White, who was chaplain to the Continental Congress that Jay headed as President. As a deputy to the first General Conventions he influenced the development of the church’s political structure in a way that won the approval of the Church of England, and paved the way for Canterbury’s consecration of the post-Seabury generation of bishops. (Seabury’s freewheeling approach had nearly scotched further recognition of the Episcopal Church on England’s part!)

Jay’s influence didn’t stop with the Constitution, however, as he was also blessed to live long enough to become one of the charter members of the Episcopal Church’s first corporate effort: the Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society, founded in 1821.

Jay was also a man of high moral principles — not without his complexities — and as the church is called to examine the history of slavery, it is important to note Jay’s early role in ending it, from as early as 1777. He was a founder (in 1785) of the New York State Society for Promoting the Manumission of Slaves, and the African Free School for their education. He was a major voice in the debates that eventually led to the phased abolition of slavery in New York State beginning in 1799, with the passage of an Act he was able to sign as Governor. Years later, in 1854, journalist Horace Greely noted that no one could take more credit for ending slavery in New York state than Chief Justice Jay.

It is certainly true that Jay had his faults and was no stranger to controversy. He tangled with Bishop Hobart over the relative merits of denominational versus free Bible societies — and to prove his point was a founding member of the American Bible Society. And unlike the more idealistic abolitionists of the next generation (including his son William), although Jay eventually freed all slaves in his possession, he defended the gradual approach on the pragmatic grounds that liberation without education and skills was of no service to the one set free.

Jay has additional local significance for New Yorkers. He was a graduate of Kings College (now Columbia University), a warden of Trinity Church in Manhattan, and a founding member and senior warden of St Matthew’s, Bedford. It is altogether fitting that the Diocese of New York commemorate the life of this servant of Christ, an exemplar of a layman’s ministry in his tireless work for justice, freedom and peace, as a step towards proposing his eventual inclusion in the calendar of the Book of Common Prayer.

— Tobias Haller BSG

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Panel of Reference: Still In Communion

The Archbishop of Canterbury's Panel of Reference (charged with dealing with matters of alternative oversight for dissenting parishes) has issued a report on the state of things in the Diocese of New Westminster. This report will prove to be of cold comfort to the dissenters, as it dismisses one of their central claims, i.e., that in order to remain Anglican they need to separate from the Diocese of New Westminster. Of particular note are paragraphs 21 and 25:

21. The argument that in order to remain "in full communion with the Church of England throughout the world" it is necessary for dissenting clergy and parishes to separate themselves from the diocese of New Westminster, adopting a title for their organisation which implies that they represent the Anglican Communion in New Westminster, in addition to or instead of the diocese and Bishop Ingham, can not be sustained. The Church of England itself remains in full communion with the Diocese of New Westminster and Bishop Ingham, pending resolution of the presenting issue, and therefore with all of its clergy, members and parishes, including those who dissent from its diocesan synod decision but remain in full fellowship with the Bishop and the diocese, together with the dissenting parishes unless they formally withdraw themselves from the Anglican Church in Canada. Even if this were not the case there is no evidence that communion with dissenting parishes would in fact be broken since such provinces which have declared impaired communion have made it clear that they remain in communion with those whom they regard as faithful.

25. The AS critique of SEM elaborates further on the claim, which we believe to be unsustainable in the current situation, that in order for the dissenting clergy and parishes to be in full communion with the Archbishop of Canterbury and the "Church of England throughout the world" it is necessary for special arrangements to be made for them outside not only the Diocese of New Westminster, but outside the Anglican Church in Canada. It is factually incorrect to state (AS 3.4.2.2) that "the province has been suspended from the Anglican Communion until 2008". In fact the Anglican Church of Canada was asked voluntarily to withdraw its representatives from the Anglican Consultative Council until the Lambeth Conference in 2008.

The report ends by once again tossing the ball back into the Provincial Court, where by all traditional and legal understandings it belongs.

How this will relate to the Episcopal Church remains to be seen. However, as similar claims concerning the Episcopal Church have been made by the Anglican Communion Network, and more recently and vociferously by such tangential bodies as AMiA and LEAC, one can only surmise that the Panel of Reference will similarly reject the similar claims, as they too are without foundation.

— Tobias Haller BSG

Kigali Count Out or Handwriting on the Wall

So the Kigali conference of the Global South has managed to muster at most 20 primates (probably less) apparently willing to tell the Episcopal Church where to get off. Now, as I've noted before, the number actually needed to expel the Episcopal Church (or the Church of Canada) from the Anglican Communion is 26: a two-thirds majority of the 38 primates being required to amend the membership schedule of the Anglican Consultative Council. Even of those less than twenty a few might develop cold feet when it actually comes to a vote.

So, not having the votes, they are resorting to bluster and threats. They will absent themselves from the next Primates' Meeting unless by some feat of ecclesiastical legerdemain a rump-or-shadow Primate for disaffected Americans is sent along with the real Primate of the Episcopal Church (by then) ++Katharine Jefferts Schori. Given his past reluctance to do such irregular things, I cannot imagine +++Rowan will provide for this. So the way is paved for a grand salon de refusées consisting mostly of those who would refuse to sit in the same room with the real Primate of TEC. The door is set to open for a grand departure.

Meanwhile, shifting alliance and allegiance in the AMiA and ACN, as well as questions of "who really speaks for the Global South in the US" have begun to trickle onto the blogosphere, and members of the Windsor Report drafting team check in with their assessment of how well (or not) TEC did in "compliance" with the suggestions, recommendations, and urgings of the Windsor Report. (I'm sorry, but "Windsor Compliance" always makes me think of Mrs. Wallace Simpson and the abdication of a British monarch...)

So we continue to live in interesting times. What will the Global South's failure to muster sufficient support for its agenda lead to? What will the splintering of the American dissenter movement produce, or fail to produce? Has enough rope been provided?

&mdash Tobias Haller

If wishes was horses...

There is an old saying, "If wishes was horses beggars would ride." I take it that needs no further elaboration.

Lately, however, I'm beginning to think more along lines of, "If wishes was Communion Anglicans would have one." I say this because I'm feeling a disengagement from reality taking hold on the whole discussion. I would dignify much of this imaginary chatter with the term "paper tiger" were it not for the fact that so much of it isn't even on paper these days, but circulating in the ether of the blogosphere. Speculation is rife, as the cliché so neatly puts it. Just establishing "facts on the ground" is difficult as rumors are reported by the "journalists" du jour. Canons are ignored while various folks attribute "authority" to the latest opinions of a majority at a non-legislative conference (that's Lambeth to those who don't get the allusion, or illusion). Judgments of heresy and apostasy are tossed about like confetti at a street festival, by people poorly equipped and clearly unqualified to make such judgments. A "Global South" conference convenes and issues a statement apparently approved by those attending, and then at least two of those attending say "No way." Then it becomes questionable as to who even attended, let alone assented, as charges go back and forth, and Southern Africa is given something to Chew on. And who from Jerusalem actually attended — as press accounts differ? What, after all, has Jerusalem to do with Kigali, let alone Athens?

The point is, friends, I begin to wonder what is real any more. We seem more and more to be making it up as we go along. I've said before that we already have a real Anglican Communion Covenant in the Constitution of the Anglican Consultative Council — but no one ever seems to acknowledge this even exists as a way forward out of our issues. Instead, fictive authorities are confected out of strong desires; various groups coalesce and then evaporate, leaving behind the vapor of speculation in the air while trumpeting big steps forward — as if wishing could make it so.

I am reminded of Monty Python's block of flats built by hypnosis: as long as all of the residents continue to believe in the existence of their building, it will stand; once they begin to doubt, down it comes. I would have thought the Anglican Communion, as affectionate and fellowshippy as it is, was still built of sterner stuff than sheer wishfulness. But certainly the "New Communion" promised by the Global South is as much a product of the hypnotic repetition of half-truths as any of the Big Lies with which the last century was marred.

&mdash Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

The Truth About Cats and Dogs

The Mad Priest reflects upon the origin of the Cat as the means to render human folk humble. Noted, and seconded.


As my Thought for the Day, I offer the following:

Dogs are like people as people wish people were.
Cats are like people as they really are.

—Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG
The cat pictured is the late Oxford Deodatus

Yes, Minister Redux

A few folks have expressed dismay at ++Cantuar's appointment of ++West Indies (he who absented himself from Communion with Cantuar at Dromantine, and who has been trumpeting from the Global South for a while now) to the committee set up to work on the Anglican Communion Covenant. However, it is a well established principle of power politics that one can sometimes most effectively deal with problematical persons by appointing them to committees charged with addressing the problems to which they contribute by their irascibility.

It works in the parish all the time, and even though ++Rowan comes from an academic background, I think such things are well known in the realm of academia. And certainly in the Yes, Minister world to which I have alluded before! Remember how Sir Humphrey always made a point of getting Hacker deeply involved (and feeling so awfully flattered to be so) in the very matters in which he was in danger of upsetting the apple cart?

The old saying about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer might come into play were it not for the reluctance I have for portraying any Christian as an enemy (even if they don't accord me the same courtesy!).

— Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Fresh Air from Southern Africa

Archbishop of Southern Africa Njongonkulu Ndungane has issued an elegant rebuff to the Global South Communiqué in which he first of all establishes that he in no way approved of this document, even though it was presented in such a way as to suggest his approval — an approval widely reported in the press.

He goes on to say,

...There is no doubt that the tensions within the Anglican Communion, arising from actions within North America, raise serious and problematic concerns for our future. Yet I am deeply disturbed by the tenor of our approach, as reflected in this communiqué. To me, at least, it appears in places that there is a hidden agenda, to which some of us are not privy. For example, I am unable to understand why there seems to be a deliberate intention to undermine the due processes of the Anglican Communion and the integrity of the Instruments of Unity, while at the same time we commit ourselves to upholding Anglican identity, of which these, as they have continued to evolve over the years in response to changing needs, are an intrinsic part. Thus, for example, recent meetings of the Primates, in which the Global South played a very full part, requested various actions from the Archbishop of Canterbury, which he has been assiduous in pursuing; such as setting up the Lambeth Commission, the Panel of Reference, and now the Covenant Design Group. Yet there seems to be an urgency to obtain particular outcomes in advance, pre-empting the proper outworking of the bodies for which we called.

Patience is a fruit of the Holy Spirit. As Peter writes in his second letter, 'Do not ignore this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day. The Lord is not slow about his promise, as some think of slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance.' We do not want the best of Anglicanism to be cast aside, and so to perish! And to allow the due processes of these bodies, and the Instruments of Unity, to be followed through will take such a short time in relation to the life of God's Church over two millennia.

I must also say that I am disturbed by the apparent zeal for action to be taken against those deemed not in compliance with Lambeth Resolution 1:10, with a readiness to disregard ancient norms of observing diocesan autonomy. Though this was upheld within the Windsor Report's recommendations, it is of course a practice that was adopted in earliest times by the universal church. It was thus ironic that that the feast of Theodore of Tarsus fell during our meeting: as Archbishop of Canterbury, in 673 he summoned one of the most important Synods of our early tradition. In addressing both the rights and duties of clergy and religious, its decisions included the requirement, already acknowledged elsewhere, of bishops to work within their own dioceses and not to intrude on the ministry of others. We are in danger of giving the impression of being loyal Anglicans, and loyal members of God's One, Holy and Apostolic Church, only where, and insofar, it suits us!

We must also be careful to avoid creating, in effect, episcopi vagantes. This is a difficult and complex area, which Resolution 35 of the Lambeth Conference of 1920 addressed when it said, 'The territorial Episcopate has been the normal development in the Catholic Church, but we recognise that differences of race and language sometimes require that provision should be made in a Province for freedom of development of races side by side; the solution in each case must be left with the Province, but we are clear that the ideal of the one Church should never be obscured.' In our time too, we must do all that we can not to obscure that ideal of the one Church.

I am also more than a little wary of calling into question the election processes of another Province in the way the Communiqué suggests, in relation to the Presiding Bishop of The Episcopal Church. This introduces a completely new dimension into our relationships within the Communion, the reciprocal implications of which we have not considered. I would feel more confident if we addressed this question as a part of the more comprehensive reassessment of the nature of the Communion for our times, which is underway not least through the work of the Covenant Design Group.

An added concern for me is the apparent marginalisation of laity, clergy and bishops in the debate within the Global South. I was particularly glad that circumstances allowed me fully to consult both my fellow bishops, and our Provincial Synod, immediately in advance of the Kigali meeting. For a fundamental and indispensable element of our Anglican identity is that we are both episcopally led and synodically governed. I long for a consultative process that fully engages the whole Body of Christ, recognising that 'to each one, the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good' (1 Cor 12:7). Primates do not have sole monopoly on wisdom and knowledge at this crucial time, nor indeed at any other!

There is much, much more, and I could go on quoting. But please read the whole statement. It is a breath of fresh air, a bold proclamation of the Spirit.

Hear, hear!

—T S Haller BSG

Consenting Adults

What’s really wrong with B033

Resolution B033 of the 75th General Convention surely has its faults. I have before addressed the fact that it can at most be taken as a strongly worded recommendation, since to do otherwise would be unconstitutional, and violate the principle of collegiality upheld in the Windsor Report, “What touches all must be approved by all.” Consent by bishops and standing committees is within their right, and no legislation short of a Canon to that effect can coerce them to act otherwise than they are free to do.

However, there are two moral problems and one canonical fault with B033, even as it stands, on which it falls short. First of all, it clearly had to be written in such a way as to avoid the suggestion that there was anything wrong with the election and consecration of Bishop Robinson. This church has made its position abundantly clear that though we may regret the consequences of that action, the action itself was proper. And so this resolution takes up a consequentialist ethic — a position of moral weaknesses. For to refrain from an act one believes to be good out of fear of negative consequences — especially consequences as relatively mild as presenting “a challenge” to the wider church — brings us into the ethically muddy world of utilitarianism — the principle of Caiaphas that weighs morality in pounds of flesh.

The second moral flaw is similar to the first: it is an extrinsic ethic — it is not about the goodness or evil of the act of consent, but what others might think about it. This surely falls well below the standards of Christian morality.

However, the more serious problem with B033 lies elsewhere, in its canonical form.

Our canons expect dioceses to elect persons of godly character, sufficient learning, and sound faith as bishops. Participants in the electing diocese’s convention sign a testimonial to that effect, which in addition assures the church at large that the election took place in due and lawful form.

However, the standing committees of consenting dioceses are expected to have neither direct knowledge of the election procedures, nor of the bishop-elect’s manner of life and learning. Rather, all that the canons expect them, as laid out in the testimonial they sign, is an attestation that they “know of no impediment” to the ordination. This is, essentially, an agnostic statement; it does not designate approval as such, merely lack of knowledge of an impediment.

Now, impediment is a quite precise canonical word; and it means something which renders an act impossible — so impossible that if one were to proceed with the act it would be null and void. This is why marriages contracted in spite of impediments (such as insufficient age, existant spouses, or defective intent) can be and are annulled — no marriage took place because the conditions necessary for it were not present.

A very few people have claimed that a noncelibate gay or lesbian bishop can’t really be a bishop because they cannot be “received by the whole church.” These few believe that the sexual practice of a person is an impediment in the strict sense. This is, however, Donatism in almost crystalline form — not a heresy exactly, but an error that leads to schism. For if a failure in the moral character of a minister rendered the ministry null, who could amongst us sinners, after all, be a minister? Donatism was rejected by the church because it was destructive of an orderly exercise of ministry among and by people all of whom are sinners. No, a moral failing is not an impediment.

Nor were consenting dioceses asked to make such a moral judgment — until B033. And that is where the problem lies: it places this discernment of the character of the ordinand not in the hands of the electors (as the canons expect) but in the hands of the consenters, forcing them to discern qualities that might challenge the wider church, rather than remaining focused on their own personal lack of knowledge of any impediments to the ordination.

Which brings me to the recent election in South Carolina.

Intentional neglect?

An impediment, say, in marriage, could be any of a number of things: lack of canonical age, existence of another spouse, and so on, as I noted above. I also mentioned another impediment, “defective intent.” If a person preparing for marriage were to say to the priest doing the pre-marriage counseling, “I of course remain free to terminate this marriage if my spouse gives me cause; and intend to do so,” or “I reserve the right to have relationships with others if I am really strongly attracted to them,” the priest would quite rightly say, “Then you do not have the proper intent for marriage.”

A priest who is about to become bishop takes an Oath, in the same manner as at priestly ordination but in a different context, stating, “I do solemnly engage to conform to the doctrine, disciple, and worship of The Episcopal Church.”

South Carolina, in preparation for its election, developed a survey instrument on an assortment of topics for the candidates to submit as part of their review. Here is how bishop-elect Lawrence answered some of the questions.

19. The church should not divide over this [homosexual conduct] issue. Strongly disagree.
20. If the Diocese of South Carolina does not become separate in some formal way from ECUSA, I intend to resign my orders as an Episcopal priest. Unsure.
21. If the Diocese of South Carolina separates in some formal way from ECUSA, I intend to transfer from this diocese to an ECUSA diocese. Strongly disagree.

Bishop-elect Lawrence’s responses are troubling. He appears to say (I will stand corrected if the double negative of question 19 confused him) that the church should divide over the issue of the rightness or wrongness of homosexual conduct. This in itself would appear to be countenancing schism, the technical name for division in the church. The bishop-elect is “unsure” as to whether he would remain in orders if his diocese does not separate from the Episcopal Church — and such insecurity is incompatible with an Oath. Finally, he intends not to remain with the Episcopal Church if South Carolina separates from it. That is, at least, how his answers appear. He surely deserves an opportunity to correct any misapprehensions, or wrong conclusions one might draw from a survey such as the one to which he responded.

Whether these survey responses by bishop-elect Lawrence constitute an impediment — and if he stands by them — thus remains to be seen — and needs to be seen — and will have to be judged by those preparing to give — or withhold — consent. Surely his statements are troubling on the surface. But I served on a committee with him at this last General Convention, and he seemed to me to be a man of high principle and conscience. I would pray that he would carefully examine his conscience and his principles in this present instant, and if there is any defect in his intent, mend it, or otherwise not place himself in the perilous position of taking an Oath he may not be prepared to maintain.

— Tobias S Haller BSG

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The Widow and Her Church - A Parable

There was a certain rich widow who was a member of a congregation for the whole of her life. She dearly loved her parish, and over the years she had endowed it with many gifts, most especially a window of fine stained glass, much admired by the people round about.

But there came a time when a new pastor came to the parish, who knew not the ways of those who had gone before, and who changed many things that had been customary in the service. And the widow was greatly displeased. And so she went to some of her friends of the congregation and beseeched them to confront the pastor, and demand that he no longer do such things as he had done, but rather restore the customs which had long been in place among them. But the pastor refused to do so, for he noted that the greater part of the congregation approved of the changes.

And so the widow and her friends demanded that the pastor recognize their claim, and cede to them their portion of the building, that they might worship separately in accordance with the customs they had known, with a pastor of their own choosing. And the widow further demanded that if this could not be done that she should take from the church the pew in which she had been accustomed to sit, together with the stained-glass window, several ranks of pipes from the organ, two or three of the cushions, and one of the chalices, and she and her friends would go their way in peace.

What, I say to you, shall be done for this widow and her friends?

—Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Conversation and Appeal

Someone in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me." — Luke 12:13

On the eve of the meeting in New York between various sides in the present internal dispute in which our church is mired, the dissidents have issued an Appeal to Canterbury.

It appears to me that the Seven Bishops who issued this Appeal have not been listening very carefully to the Archbishop, who has said time and again that he will do nothing — and feels he cannot do anything — outside the existing legal structures of the church; hence this call for a meeting among those who can actually try to make some make-do effort under the solicitous Sir Humphrey-like watchful eye of a representative from England.

Speaking of which, this all does seem to resemble a lost episode of Yes, Minister in its own perverse way; particularly the tortures suffered by the English language in the efforts to twist ++KJS's language into the vilest heresy (worthy of schism or at least replacement with a Commissary), and to nuance the already highly nuanced prose of ++Rowan into a stark declaration of support for novel independence.

I still pray for a good outcome; and do not think the Dissatisfied Seven have done themselves any service with this Appeal to an authority who has already said, "Who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?"

—Tobias Haller BSG

The Church and the Churches

A colleague made a comment earlier today that got me thinking — as his comments often do. He referred to his longing for the visible union and reconciliation of the church. Needless to say, such longing for church unity forms part and parcel of many of our efforts and our hopes; and certainly the very least we hope for is an end to conflict, and vigorous cooperation in the works of mercy.

But what got me thinking were the unspoken questions behind the assumed goodness of an institutionally united church: What if the evolution of the church in its different branches is not contrary to God?s will and design, but a living out of an organic coming-to-be that is beyond our present understanding? What if the imperial model for the church — a single entity with a single hierarchy — is an accidental inclusion from the days of its birth rather than an essential element to be preserved into its maturity? And so this sends me back to the Scriptures to look more closely at the imagery of diversity and organic development that form so rich a part of the Pauline vision of the church. And what I find there is an image of a body in which not all the parts are the same, but in which different parts serve different functions. Even when split by factions, the splitting and the factions have their purpose: to aid in discernment, and to come to the truth.

I by no means suggest that Paul was a Hegelian: but as one schooled in the rhetoric of his time, he knew that the purpose of debate and division was to lead to a better understanding — to come to one mind through the analysis that takes things apart and sets them in opposition. Lately Archbishop Rowan Williams has been quoted as saying that only the united church can truly discern the truth: but isn?t it also the case (as the Articles affirm!) that a united body can be very much mistaken, and that to discern the truth (as yet to be revealed) some division and debate must inform us?

So I return once again to my favorite image for the united church: not united in a single institutional hierarchy, but in each of its divided elements united

by a common turning
to One Lord,
through One Faith,
in One Baptism,
for One Mission

— with each of the various evolved traditions bringing its gift to the party, its skills and insights to the well-being of the whole. What treasures old and new might we then all enjoy together: the mystical insight and deep tradition of the Eastern Orthodox, the fine thinking of Augustine and Thomas — but of Teilhard too, the fervor and biblical regard of the Reformers, the wit and wisdom of the Anglicans: all in one banquet of spiritual delights with room and to spare at the table for the new arrivals who will find this new church a place of peace and not of conflict.

— Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Common Cause and Effect

Folks from the conservative wing have been issuing confessional statements for a while now; and it comes as no surprise to me that when these confessions are examined in detail, they sometimes veer from real catholic orthodoxy onto the soft-shoulder of sectariansim while protesting that they are still very much on the road.

The recent Common Cause draft statement is a case in point. Others have noted the odd fondness for the 1662 Book of Common Prayer and its predecessors. But I was more struck by this clause of the Common Cause confession:

We confess the canonical books of the Old and New Testaments to be the inspired Word of God, containing all things necessary for salvation, and to be the final authority and unchangeable standard for Christian faith and life.

The latter half of this is very far and away out of the Anglican mainstream, and represents almost lapidary Calvinism.

Hooker addressed this argument, that the Scripture is a limit upon human life rather than the source of its life, in many passages of his work. Perhaps the most eloquent is this simple statement:

It is no more disgrace for Scripture to have left a number of things free to be ordered at the discretion of the Church, than for nature to have left it unto the wit of man to devise his own attire. (III.iv.1)

or at greater length, and with greater relevance to the present situation:

Two opinions therefore there are concerning sufficiency of Holy Scripture, each extremely opposite unto the other, and both repugnant unto truth. The schools of Rome teach Scripture to be so unsufficient, as if, except traditions were added, it did not contain all revealed and supernatural truth, which absolutely is necessary for the children of men in this life to know that they may in the next be saved. Others justly condemning this opinion grow likewise unto a dangerous extremity, as if Scripture did not only contain all things in that kind necessary, but all things simply, and in such sort that to do any thing according to any other law were not only unnecessary but even opposite unto salvation, unlawful and sinful. Whatsoever is spoken of God or things appertaining to God otherwise than as the truth is, though it seem an honour, it is an injury. And as incredible praises given unto men do often abate and impair the credit of their deserved commendation, so we must likewise take great heed, lest in attributing unto Scripture more than it can have, the incredibility of that do cause even those things which indeed it hath most abundantly to be less reverently esteemed. (II.viii)

I do wonder if the Common Causers really mean what they say in its literal and plain sense? Shall they begin to shun buttons and chromium, even as they embrace shunning those whose manner of life offends them? Shall we soon see a squad of Black Bumper Bishops, or even more observant Buggy Bishops? I think not. Rather, we will see the usual uneven application of Scripture that is convenient for some to the detriment of others: the font of all sectarianism cloaked as the catholic faith.

— Tobias S Haller BSG

Living Stones

Some years ago I preached at Grace and Saint Peter's, Baltimore, on the feast of their Dedication. I just discovered that the sermon was published in the Summer 2005 issue of The Anglican Catholic (XVII). It begins:

It is a great pleasure to be invited once again to stand in the splendid pulpit of this beautiful church; especially on this day when we give thanks for its dedication as a place set apart for the worship of Almighty God. In giving thanks, we are called to think not only of the spiritual gifts that abound in this place, but about the hard facts of its physicality: the reality of its very stones. And in doing so, we face a mystery revealed both in the creation of the universe, and in the new creation which began with the Incarnation of Jesus Christ.

This mystery finds its eloquent metaphor in one of the most contradictory images in all of Scripture: the living stones which Saint Peter invites us to become.

Now, in folklore and fiction, from the petrified souls who glimpsed Medusa's writhing hairdo, to poor Han Solo carbonized in Star Wars, being turned into stone is a curse, a symbol of death, coldness and finality.

So it may seem odd that Saint Peter should suggest that we be turned into stones. And so he stresses that the stones we are to become are living stones. That's another image altogether, equally familiar from legends and tales. My favorite instance is C.S. Lewis' The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. As you may recall, the land of Narnia has been cursed by a wicked witch, so that it is always winter but never Christmas, and she has turned all who oppose her into stone — frozen statues, who only come back to life when the Great Lion Aslan comes to revive them with his breath.

Enjoy the rest...

—Tobias S Haller BSG

Finally, A Conference

I am happy to see word of the planned meeting of our Primate and Primate-Elect and official representation from the Anglican Communion with a small group of American bishops, including both via media Lee and Alternative Oversight petitioner Iker. The Anglican Communion Office confirms that this meeting is taking place with the approval of the Archbishop of Canterbury, unlike the Texas gathering to which I referred earlier, and for which the Archbishop's approval — while claimed — has not been explicitly confirmed.

It seems to me that, like it or not, any kind of Alternative Primatial Oversight will have to involve change or adaptation in the legal structures of the Episcopal Church — whether that means the creation of a new non-geographical Province X, a “flying bishops” scheme, or some other mechanism. I know similar ideas have been tabled and rejected in the past; but that does not mean that they cannot be reconsidered — as we saw at General Convention, reconsideration might be considered an Anglican conceptual art-form. Such reconsideration is to be preferred to the improvisational free-form ecclesiology that Anglicans have been engaging in of late.

Any official changes will require the official participation of the acknowledged authorities: and whether the dissidents like it or not, the Presiding Bishop is the Presiding Bishop, the General Convention is the General Convention, and it is high time for the Archbishop to work to engage the dissidents with the authorities whose consent will be required for any legitimate (i.e., licit) adaptations to accommodate the dissent.

I am distressed that some of my sisters and brothers of the liberal wing have begun bewailing this meeting before it begins, predicting anything from a sellout to a rout. On the contrary, I am hopeful that this meeting may produce some positive and concrete results toward a real settlement, because the people capable of actually accomplishing this are to be participants. This is not backchannel diplomacy, but perhaps a real treaty discussion at last.

Major changes will take time, however — the creation of a new Province will require another General Convention, if that is the road that is to be followed. But temporary measures can and should be put into place in such a way as to preserve the interests of God’s people on whatever side of the current controversy they find themselves.

Continental Congress

To return to a theme I’ve played a number of times over the last months, it is high time for all who profess themselves Christians to recognize the wisdom of Donne’s imagery about islands and promontories. He was talking about death — but I prefer to apply the image to life. No church is an island — even the so-called “national” churches are merely promontories and peninsulas. When we look across the gulf that separates, it is good to be reminded it is a gulf, not an ocean, and that at the headland of the continent we are united at our roots.

What, after all, is a “national church” in this day, in which Erastianism is a fading memory for Christianity even while it becomes the desideratum for militant Islam? Geography is less significant for us than it was in the days when few traveled, and few spoke any language other than their own. Even the Eastern Orthodox will acknowledge (ruefully) the anomaly of multiple overlapping jurisdictions in much of the world.

But the Christian, through baptism, is born into a citizenship that is not of this world — born again into a citizenship that cannot be lost, marked with an indelible passport stamped on the forehead in the shape of a cross. We are citizens of the world to come, and aliens in this one, wherever we are.

—Tobias S Haller BSG

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Peter, Paul, and the Church

Those of us who follow the discipline of the Daily Office will soon be coming to the point in Acts of the Apostles at which it gets agreed that Peter should minister the Gospel to some while Paul and his associates will minister the same Gospel to others — others who will be held to a different standard of conduct, since they are not Jews but Gentiles. The wisdom of this move was credited by the Apostles to the Holy Spirit.

It appears to me that we have here a model for how to handle disputes in the church. It is not necessary, classical Anglican formularies tell us, that rites and ceremonies be in all places the same; nor would it seem, given the Apostles’ debate and decision, in even weightier matters of the Law, that an absolute uniformity be observed, so long as the heart of the Gospel is preserved.

To use Alisdair MacIntyre’s telling imagery, What deep truths from the narrative of our past, in which the practice of obedience has formed us, will enable us to meet future commitments in such a way that we “make of human life a unity”? What, exactly, are the obligations put upon us by the Gospel, if not those Christ enumerated in the Summary of the Law? And how, in keeping them, do we find ourselves, even if discontinuous on the practice of other virtues — even virtues held by some to be grave and important — how do we find ourselves still able to remain united in spite of these discontinuities?

And can we? This is the challenge that faced the church of Acts: and as the Epistles show, it failed — splintered over glossolalia and circumcision and a handful of other trivial discords that the churches’ warring members allowed to divide them — until the hammer of martyrdom in the Empire’s hand awoke them to a consciousness that there were more serious things in life — and in the life to come.

So can we be a church united in Christ while still some of us are “Pauline” and others “Petrine”? Does the unity of the church depend on choosing between Paul, or Cephas, or Apollos? Upon this set of rules or another? Or upon Christ, who summarized the Law under the rubric of Love, and in whom we are one not by our own virtue, but by virtue of our Baptism, and who has chosen us as much as we have chosen him?

— Tobias S Haller BSG

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Transfiguration

“Some standing here shall not taste death until
they see the Son of God in glory come.”
So Jesus prophesied. He soon chose some
of his disciples, climbed a lonely hill.
Did they suspect that that would be the day
when glory would come down within a cloud,
surround, embrace them all, and speak aloud,
“This is my Son. Hear what he has to say.”?
They saw; they heard, but did not understand
what goal the high Eternal Counsel planned.
Ahead lay cross and crown, the lifting up,
the agony, the bloody, bitter cup.
But Peter did not comprehend these truths.
Instead, he said, “Lord, let us build three booths.”

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG, July 1990

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Canterburial Insertions Unhelpful

I am distressed that the Archbishop of Canterbury appears to be participating in the Texan Consultation by proxy. This continues a pattern of meetings with various parties disaffected to one degree or other, and his somewhat patronizing acknowledgment that the Anglican Communion Network consists of Episcopalians (which they took as a bit more of an endorsement than I imagine he intended; but then, his intent is difficult to read at times.) It must be acknowledged that +Rowan's acts have been less meddlesome than those of his retired immediate predecessor, but it is nonetheless bothersome in that he seems to be ignoring the standards of polity I referred to in my previous post.

Rather, the Archbishop should, by Lambeth's own standards, deal directly with the duly and synodically elected leaders of the (at present) sole legitimate constituent member of the Anglican Communion (per the Constitution of the Anglican Consultative Council) on our shores, The Episcopal Church -- not with conventicles or special interest groups, however exalted their membership, or however much the special interests of these groups might coincide with his own views, or the purported views of the "majority of the Anglican Communion."

It might be argued that the "embassy" of Bishop Langrish to meet with the House of Bishops was +Rowan's attempt at proper channeling; and that the "failure" of this mission (i.e., B033's alleged inadequacy) opens the door for this subsequent move. However, such a move remains — and I don't know how to say this delicately — subversive. It leads me to ask, "Archbishop, what part of the word 'No' don't you understand?" The Episcopal Church has made its position clear; no less ambiguously though with greater charity than, say, Nigeria.

In the best possible light, this may be an instance of behind the scenes diplomacy; the problem being that it is not behind the scenes but trumpeted on the Internet. Perhaps the good offices of Bishop Wimberly may provide some room for mediation. But I remain concerned that such ad hoc backchannel efforts have not, in the past, proven beneficial in the long run, and may simply distract us from the difficult task ahead.

— Tobias S Haller

Lambeth Speaks on General Convention

The proposed gathering of "Windsor" bishops in Texas appears, in its rejection of General Convention's official act in adopting B033, and as an effort to bypass the General Convention as the collective and authoritative "voice" of the Episcopal Church in Communion matters, once again to be ignoring a principle laid out by Lambeth from the very beginning:

"The Provincial Synod -- or, as it is called in New Zealand, the General Synod, and in the United States the General Convention -- is formed, whenever it does not exist already by law and usage, through the voluntary association of Dioceses for united legislation and common action. The Provincial Synod not only provides a method for securing unity amongst the Dioceses which are thus associated, but also forms the link between these Dioceses and other Churches of the Anglican Communion.... It is the office of the Provincial Synod, generally, to exercise, within the limits of the Province, powers in regard to Provincial questions similar to those which the Diocesan Synod exercises, within the Diocese, in regard to Diocesan questions. As to the relation between these two Synods, your Committee are of opinion, that the Diocese is bound to accept positive enactments of a Provincial Synod in which it is duly represented, and that no Diocesan regulations have force, if contrary to the decisions of a higher Synod; but that, in order to prevent any collision or misunderstanding, the spheres of action of the several Synods should be defined on the following principle, viz., That the Provincial Synod should deal with questions of common interest to the whole Province, and with those which affect the communion of the Dioceses with one another and with the rest of the Church; whilst the Diocesan Synod should be left free to dispose of matters of local interest, and to manage the affairs of the Diocese." -- Committee Report A of the Lambeth Conference of 1867

The findings of this committee were ratified in Resolution 4, which reads:

"That, in the opinion of this Conference, Unity in Faith and Discipline will be best maintained among our several branches of the Anglican Communion by due and canonical subordination of the Synods of the several branches to the higher authority of a Synod or Synods above them."

This does not, by the way, contrary to the assertions of some, refer to Lambeth itself, which was never conceived of as a canonical or synodical body, but as the invitation letter to the first Conference explicitly declared,

"Such a meeting would not be competent to make declarations or lay down definitions on points of doctrine." -- Letter of Invitation from the Archbishop of Canterbury, 22 February 1867

— Tobias S Haller

The Split [Still] In Our Future [?]

I wrote the following in October of 2004, in a note to the now famous House of Bishops/Deputies List. I am posting it here at this point as a “check” on how things have fared in relation to my sense at the time, just prior to the publication of the Windsor Report. I do so in part in response to the continued expressed hopes — and I have myself expressed them, most recently in an essay in Episcopal Life — that the Communion might still find a way to hold together in spite of the many tensions and disagreements we face.

The final question still stands.

The Split in our Future

Given the recent statement ("Drawing the Line") from the Anglican Communion Institute and the comments and actions of Archbishop Akinola, it appears to me that a split in the Anglican Communion is almost certainly assured. Neither Akinola nor ACI will be content with any form of Communion in which the Episcopal Church (and one assumes the Canadian as well) are allowed to be at the table in any meaningful sense of the word. A "parallel jurisdiction" in which parishes and perhaps dioceses of the "Network" would be recognized in addition to the Episcopal Church (assuming such an arrangement could be worked out) will not be satisfactory to ACI. Akinola and others have openly opined on a new "center of unity" apart from Canterbury, should he not comply with their demands for the discipline and exile of the Episcopal and Canadian Churches. Akinola has been explicit in his rejection of participation in any synod or conference in which those who consented to Bishop Robinson's election and consecration are seated, and to date has been true to his word.

I will make no prognostication on the contents of the Windsor Report, nor Canterbury's response to it, but it appears that we will either see a temporary split in the Anglican Communion (if the American and Canadian churches are exiled from full participation in the "instruments of unity" until they have undone what others believe they ought not to have done) or a permanent schism (consisting of perhaps most, but not all, of what is called the "Global South" and a number of sympathetic parishes, and perhaps dioceses, scattered through the rest of the present Communion) if those concerned do not find the solution Canterbury eventually adopts to be acceptable.

Am I misreading the signs of the times?

— Tobias S Haller BSG (October 2004)

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