The Episcopal Majority: A Simple Solution to an Intractable Problem

The Rev. Thomas B. Woodward recently wrote the following at The Episcopal Majority: A Simple Solution to an Intractable Problem: "The solution is for us all to act like Anglicans, acknowledging deep divisions about matters close to our hearts and our understanding of public morals and committing ourselves to living with these divisions. "

I am heartened by the sort of dialogue I see in the comments section of the above post. I am trying to spell out my own constructive contribution to the conversation in general in a series of posts here, especially Basic Commitment and Basic Commitment & The Church's Mission, but a few specific observations on the meaning of "dialogue" might be helpful.

I've noticed that to some people, "dialogue" really means "soft sell," that is, the conviction that I am right and you are wrong, but the patience to play nice and talk (ad nauseum if need be) until you start to come around to where I am. This kind of "dialogue" is lacking in true charity and authenticity because the person who engages in this kind of "dialogue" is not making himself or herself vulnerable. That is, as long as there's no admission of "I could be wrong," and no humbling horror at the thought "if I am wrong, I could be hurting people--perhaps even eternally--in what I say and/or do," there will be no true dialogue.

Luckily, with Fr. Woodward and Mr. Gnade, there appears to be an authentic vulnerability combined with honesty--not just honesty about what they think and feel, but honesty about how their words and actions might affect other people. This is shown, for example, when Mr. Gnade writes: "And here is a question I've never asked before now: if homosexuality is a blessing of God, is it sinful for me to believe it is not a blessing from God? If homosexuality is not a sin, am I unholy if I think it is? That's a bit of puzzler, I would guess."

I have to admit, however, that I get impatient with dialogues (and I sense Phil S. might as well, in his search for "a bridge between moderate liberals and moderate conservatives" might as well), in that in talking about what we think and what we see and what we interpret as the truth on a particular controversial question, we never quite get to the heart of where God might be leading us as a community. This sort of dialogue is helpful for defining the horizontal dimension of the life of faith, but it doesn't really approach engaging the vertical dimension.

Perhaps it would be more constructive to offer an analysis of the thoughtful exchange between Fr. Tom Woodward (hereafter TW) and Mr. Bill Gnade (hereafter BG):

TW wrote in his original post: "Of course the struggles will continue for a while. But they should never be communion-breakers. Think where we would be had we split over those issues, more rooted in Biblical imperatives than these..." In a reply in the comments section, he elaborates: "when we move this discussion away from core doctrine to where it belongs as 'teaching' or adiaphora, we will still be arguing (or 'in the process of discerning'), but that argument will be within the family, not threatening to bust it apart."

I'm familiar with this line of argument, which is that sticking together in the worst of times eventually pays off in the long term, since a cohesive community is more likely to discern the will of God than a myriad of isolated splinter groups whose very existence depends upon human subjective agreement on a particular issue.^[1] There is a basic truth to this claim which history bears out time and time again, both with negative examples and with (a few) positive ones.

The problem is that one person's communion-breaking issue is another person's adiaphora. There simply isn't any objective standard, no discernable measuring stick, by which to declare for all Christians which is which. Reliance on Scripture, Tradition, and Reason may be enough to define what we currently hold as common ground, but an issue becomes controversial by definition when there is a lack of agreement on whether it is "communion-breaking" or not. The solution, therefore, is not to impose either a biased standard or to declare that no issue is communion-breaking (because whether an issue is communion-breaking is defined, in the final analysis, by the communion breakers themselves), but to ask: How can God transform something that is "communion-breaking" into something that instead is communion-making? The color of the carpet in the church can be communion-breaking if enough people disagree over it. It doesn't matter that the majority thinks it doesn't matter; what matters is that Christian people find a way to allow God's transformative grace into a situation where, left to our own devices, we cannot but alienate ourselves from each other...and from God, thereby dashing any hopes whatsoever for discernment.

What threatens to bust us apart, ultimately, isn't the issue itself or even whether the issue is adiaphora or not. What threatens to bust us apart is hardness of heart toward each other, which leads to self-absolution of our responsibility in causing schism. The same dynamic is at work in the case of divorce (but more on that in a future post).

As BG wrote, such a strategy of marginalizing people's concerns as adiaphora "is unloving because it dismisses what others believe is vitally important." By being dismissive of other peoples' concerns, one encourages hardness of heart, even if that's not intentional.

TW then goes on to articulate well and succinctly the progressive stance on the presenting issue: "When we take the incarnation seriously and do our work with sacramental theology, I believe we will all eventually learn to see God's blessing in those homosexual relationships." He elaborates: "Another path here is that so much of the church has observed God's blessing in gay and lesbian relationships and in the ordained as well as the lay ministry of gay and lesbian Christians. That blessing cannot be manufactured...If God, indeed, is blessing, who are we to denigrate?"

This is what I like to call "The Acts 10:47 Argument." When Peter meets with the Gentile Cornelius and his household, Acts 10:44-48 recounts (NRSV): "44 While Peter was still speaking, the Holy Spirit fell upon all who heard the word. 45 The circumcised believers who had come with Peter were astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles, 46 for they heard them speaking in tongues and extolling God. 47 Then Peter said, 'Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?' 48 So he ordered them to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. Then they invited him to stay for several days."

Luke Timothy Johnson, in Scripture and Discernment: Decision-making in the Church points out that while Peter makes a pastoral decision on the spot by the administration of (the sacrament of) baptism to confirm what he and his (orthodox) companions witness, the question of the inclusion of Gentiles by the whole Church is not therefore settled. It remains for the Council of Jerusalem in Acts 15 to ratify this pastoral decision (as well as Paul's similar actions) on behalf of the Church Catholic. Peter and Paul submit their interpretation of their experience to the discernment and authoritative judgment of the Council. The Acts 10:47 argument, therefore, only describes half of the process.^[2]

The question for us is: What (where, when) is our Council of Jerusalem? General Convention? The Anglican Consultative Council? The Archbishop's Counsil of Advise? The problem is that the Anglican Communion lacks any authoritative instrument for discerning the authenticity of the diverse and contradictory witness of Anglicans and making a reliable and binding judgment. This is not to call, necessarily, for such a thing within the Anglican Communion (do we need a Magisterium?)...But it does raise the question of how we go from witness to discernment to decision.

BG points to this when he writes: "You, unlike me, see God's hand and blessing in this; I see no such thing. I am a decent, gracious man; I strive to see Christ in everyone. And I do see Christ in everyone; but I do not see Christ blessing homosexuality in the same way that I do not see Him blessing gossip. I have known many outstanding men who cannot keep a secret or abstain from whispering rumors; but they are indeed a blessing in many lives."

BG is spot on to point out that the moral goodness of a person may have nothing to do with a person's sexual identity or relationship status, and to bless something as if the Church has discerned the matter is to beg the question (not to mention risk hubris by presuming to act on God's behalf). TW's "If God, indeed, is blessing, who are we to denigrate?" is, in this context, a rhetorical device that begs the question at the heart of the controversy. If, indeed!

TW seems to indicate he recognizes the weakness in his position when he writes, "that you and I do not experience holiness or God's blessing in people or experiences others do is not a judgment on us or them. What is important that we bring our best to that kind of discernment and that we find a place or people where we can engage in that process of discernment together. I know I have been on both sides of that quandry, myself, not seeing what others see so clearly or feeling alone that I am the only one seeing blessing where others only see trouble....there is often a gap between what I intend and what I create. As St. Paul writes in Romans, 'The good that I would (do) is what I do not. And the evil which I would not (do) is what I do.'

What, then, is the solution? I think we first need to stop talking about whether something is communion-breaking or not and admit that to many people, it simply is. Next, we must admit that we are powerless to transform a communion-breaking issue into a communion-making issue. But we must affirm that God has that power, and we must have faith that God desires to effect that transformation. But we must repent of our jumping the gun--we want to run the race faithfully, but we can't do it by cheating and giving ourselves a head start. The only thing we can do is engage in discernment, seriously and with faith, hope, and love. For if we harden our hearts toward each other, we ultimately harden our hearts toward God, as well. For what is the Church but the Mystical Body of Christ? Dare we presume crucify that Body all over again? When will we recognize that this is exactly what we are doing to Christ and to ourselves?

Lord, have mercy.

[1]This is problematic to the extent that the issue, rather than God, is raised to the level of an idol. The issue then becomes the "desolating sacrilege" set up in the midst of the Temple (let the reader understand!) because the community's attention focuses on it and the community's identity is shaped by its relationship to (i.e., opinion of) the idol-issue, rather than focusing on God and its relationship to God. "Mission" becomes distorted as the community's action becomes dependent on the question, "Does our mission prop up our idol?" Rather than asking, "Does our mission proclaim the full Gospel?" I believe this critique applies equally to progressive comminities that raise to the status of an idol undifferentiated "inclusion" (i.e., unconditional acceptance without any concomitant proclamation of transformative, converting, and redeeming grace that might entail any form of concrete amendment of life on the part of the one included) and to traditionalist communities that raise to the status of an idol a pharisaic, legalistic morality that defines the conditions of the community's acceptance of a person based on narrow criteria that may resemble very little the kind of hospitality to tax collectors and sinners that Jesus himself extended.

[2]The witness, even of presumably authentic charismatic phenomena, does not equal, nor does it by its nature demand, institutional validification. At best, it recommends itself as the proper material for discernment, through which the witness (as well as the phenomena itself) is validated. In other words, we can't just insist that the Church recognize what I, in my subjective and limited context, see as "of God." I need the Church Catholic to be able to come to recognize in its own broader experience the interpretation that such things are, in fact, "of God."