That We All May Be One

Friday in the Fourth Week of Lent  (Wisdom 2: 1a, 12-24; Psalm 34:15-22; John 7:1-2, 10, 25-30)

For millennia believers who share the faith of Abraham in the one God have tried to describe their ideal Prophet, the One they have hoped for and looked forward to, and looked up to as an exemplar.

The Psalmist describes him this way: “Many are the troubles of the righteous, but the Lord will deliver him out of them all.  He will keep safe all his bones; not one of them shall be broken…the Lord ransoms the life of his servants, and none will be punished who trust in him.”  

Decades before Jesus was born, the author of the Wisdom of Solomon describes how “the ungodly” might view such a person: “Let us lie in wait for the righteous man, because he is inconvenient to us and opposes our actions…He professes to have knowledge of God, and calls himself a child of the Lord…he calls the last end of the righteous happy, and boasts that God is his father. Let us see if his words are true, and let us test what will happen at the end of his life…”

And, during Jesus’ lifetime, some of the people of Jerusalem said about him, “Is not this the man whom they are trying to kill? And here he is, speaking openly, but they say nothing to him! Can it be that the authorities really know that this is the Messiah?”

Here is how a contemporary of ours tries to describe him: “He comes as yet unknown into a hamlet of Lower Galilee. He is watched by the cold, hard eyes of peasants living long enough at the subsistence level to know exactly where the line is drawn between poverty and destitution. He looks like a beggar yet his eyes lack the proper cringe, his voice the proper whine, his walk the proper shuffle.

He speaks about the rule of God and they listen as much from curiosity as anything else. They know all about rule and power, about kingdom and empire, but they know it in terms of tax and debt, malnutrition and sickness, agrarian oppression and demonic possession.

What, they really want to know, can this Kingdom of God do for a lame child, a blind parent, a demented soul screaming its tortured isolation among the graves that mark the village fringes? Jesus walks among the tombs and, in the silence after the exorcism, the villagers listen once more, but now with curiosity giving way to cupidity, fear, and embarrassment.

He is invited, as honor demands, to the home of the village leader. He goes, instead, to stay in the home of the dispossessed woman. Not quite proper, to be sure, but it would be unwise to censure an exorcist, to criticize a magician… But the next day he leaves them and now they wonder aloud about a divine Kingdom with no respect for proper protocols, a Kingdom, as he had said, not just for the poor like themselves, but for the destitute.

Others say that the worst and most powerful demons are not found in small villages but in certain cities. Maybe, they say, that was where the exorcised demon went, to Sepphoris or Tiberias, or even Jerusalem, or maybe to Rome itself where its arrival would hardly be noticed amidst so many others already in residence. But some say nothing at all and ponder the possibility of catching up with Jesus before he gets too far.” (The Essential Jesus by John Dominic Crossan, page11)

Well, we may never catch up with Jesus. He is always way ahead of us! We may, each of us, describe him in somewhat different ways. But, as we approach this Table, we will all receive him in his fullness, as he truly is. And we can all pray to him in this Lenten season in these words:

“Lord Jesus Christ, you stretched out your arms of love on the hard wood of the cross that everyone might come within the reach of your saving embrace: So clothe us in your Spirit that we, reaching forth our hands in love, may bring those who do not know you to the knowledge and love of you; for the honor of your Name.” Amen.  

Today, at our House of Bishops’ meeting, we had presentations from Dr. Ephraim Radner and Dr. Kathy Grieb — two members of the Covenant Drafting Committee — about the possibility of developing an Anglican Covenant which might serve to bind us together more fully as a global communion. The three bishops who accompanied our Presiding Bishop to the Primates’ meeting in Tanzania were asked to share our remarks with the House. I share them also with you. On Feb. 14th, I said:   

 My dear sister and brothers: First of all, it will not surprise you that I have a different view of the Episcopal Church than my brothers who have just spoken. As ecumenical officer, I travel all across the United States and I do not recognize the church they describe. I find Episcopalians generally more orthodox and less divided that what you have just heard.

However, I assume that the main reason I have been invited into this conversation is to share my perspective as Deputy for Ecumenical and Interfaith Relations for the Episcopal Church, given our current difficulties in the Anglican Communion. Obviously, the presenting issues of homosexuality and the ordination and blessing of homosexual persons and their relationships are of deep concern to our ecumenical and interfaith partners.

In the United States, and elsewhere in the Communion, these are vexing issues and our partners are in different places with respect to these issues. Most notably, some of the Old Catholic churches in Europe and some of the churches of the Reformed tradition, in the
US and elsewhere, permit such ordination and blessing. Obviously, the Roman Catholic and Orthodox Churches, and others, do not. Two of the three branches of Judaism, the Reformed and Conservative traditions in America, similarly allow for such ordinations and blessings. The Orthodox Jews do not!

However, I must say, in all humility but with complete honesty, that – at least in the States – we have been treated with more charity by our ecumenical and interfaith partners than we have by some in our own Anglican Communion! No national dialogues have been terminated, or even missed a beat, because of our current difficulties. The only church which has officially broken off dialogue with the Episcopal Church is the Russian Orthodox Church and – if I may say – even the Vatican has difficulty sustaining that relationship!

Every bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in American – a church with which we are in full communion – will receive Communion from every bishop in the Episcopal Church – and the priests and deacons they have ordained!  The Anglican – Roman Catholic dialogue in the
US has never missed a meeting and reports of the Lambeth Commission and the Windsor Report have provided rich input for our discussions on “The Gift of Authority” and the balance between the local and universal exercise of authority in the Church.

I just returned last week from Washington and the National Workshop on Christian Unity. Nearly 400 participants engaged in common worship and seminars on a variety of topics. Fr. Paul McPartlan, an English Roman Catholic scholar, and I co-presented to a packed house on the new document, “Growing Together in Unity and Mission,” from the International Anglican Roman Catholic Commission on Unity and Mission. And the issues with which we are concerned here were not avoided! They were faced squarely, but put into the context of 40 years of advances and convergences between Anglicans and Roman Catholics. If that context is important, how much more must be our own history together as Anglicans – which is much longer!

I do not wish to minimize the difficulties we face in some of these conversations! But I believe I can honestly say that the greatest concern of our ecumenical partners is the potential “deconstruction” of the Anglican Communion! Many, though not all, of our partners deal with us, first and foremost, as a global Communion…and only derivatively as a “national church.”

Many of them are very interested in the development of an Anglican Covenant. I am often asked – by Episcopalians and others – whether we have learned anything in the ecumenical movement which can be helpful in our current difficulties as Anglicans. And I often point to ecumenical agreements as models of “covenantal relationships” that have served us well over time. Whether it is the Bonn Agreement with the Old Catholics, the Concordat with the Iglesia Filipina Independiente, or “Called to Common Mission” with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in
America – these are very fruitful for both unity and mission.

Indeed, in the development of such covenants each partner learns more about the other, time is taken to get it right, and then solemn agreements are reached. Of course, there is a variety of opinions across the Communion about the contents, or even viability, of such an Anglican Covenant, but I think I can say without exception that our ecumenical partners want us to give it a try!    

Of course, I have to point out that – at least in ecumenical and interfaith dialogue – both partners want to be at the table! In ecumenical conversations, we are not willing to place the best of our tradition against the worst of another – because we have learned how destructive that can be for dialogue and eventual communion! In ecumenical dialogue, we have learned to honor difference and to look for common ground where it can be found. In the ecumenical movement, we have learned to respect one another and to assume that – even in disagreement – both partners are seeking to be faithful to God in their own context. Never in ecumenical conversations do we describe ourselves (as we have heard here) as being of “two faiths.” We share one Christian faith!

That does not mean “papering over” genuine disagreement! But it does mean staying together while we each learn from the other. I hope that a similar commitment can emerge among us. I know that is what the Episcopal Church wants.

(This statement also appears in the March 25, 2007 edition of The Living Church magazine)

At our weeklong meetings of the House of Bishops we normally try to honor the Lord’s Day, the Christian “sabbath” by a day of rest. We celebrated the Eucharist together at 10 a.m., had brunch, and have the afternoon off before gathering this evening for an informal “fireside chat” with our Presiding Bishop, Katharine Jefferts Schori.

Katharine presided at the Eucharist and we heard a fine sermon on the Parable of the Prodigal Son by one of our chaplains, the Canon Precentor of Washington’s National Cathedral. I was most moved, however, by the words of the Offertory hymn, sung responsorially with the volunteer “bishops’ choir” made up of bishops who enjoy singing together at these meetings.

The refrain is based on the words of Archbishop Helder Camara, retired as the Roman Catholic prelate of Olinda and Recife, which was a favorite of our former Presiding Bishop Frank Griswold, “My door, my heart, must be open to everyone, absolutely everyone.” And from a line of an ancient Celtic Rune of Hospitality, “Often goes Love in the stranger’s guise.” So we sang:

“Open, open, open my heart.  I must be open to everyone. Often goes Love in the stanger’s guise. Open, open my heart.”

And the verses were no less powerful:

“You are the peace of all things calm; You are the place to hide from harm; You are the light that shines in dark; You are the heart’s eternal spark.

You are the caller, You are the poor; You are the stanger at my door; You are the wanderer, The unfed; You are the homeless with no bed.

You are the one driven insane; You are the child crying in pain; You are the other who comes to me; If I open to another you’re born in me.

You are the door that’s open wide; You are the guest who waits inside; You are the light, the truth, the way; You are my Savior this very day.”  

Open, open, open our hearts; we must be open to everyone. Often goes Love in the stranger’s guise; open, open our hearts!