That We All May Be One

Already much has been written about the recently-completed meeting of Anglican Primates in Canterbury, England.  Some consider it a success because the Anglican Communion avoided a schism; some regard it a failure because the Episcopal Church is likely to be sanctioned because of our approval of official marriage rites for same gender persons, thus (according to them) changing the church’s doctrine of marriage.

There is much hue and cry that the Primates’ meeting has no official right to take this kind of action, since it is not actually a legislative body at all but was originally intended (like the Lambeth Conference, really) to be a rather informal gathering for mutual prayer, study and support. Others, deeply offended and even hurt by the Primates’ decisions shared today officially in a communique, have suggested that we withdraw from the Communion or, at the very least, refuse to continue funding an organization which seems to find us something of an annoyance at the least and a pariah at the worst.

I certainly do not believe that we should withdraw from the Anglican Communion. We are still in communion with the See of Canterbury (which the breakaway groups, including the so-called Anglican Church in North America, are not) and we are still full members of the Anglican Consultative Council, the only official legislative body in the Communion which alone has the power to admit new provinces into the Communion. To my knowledge, there is no mechanism whatsoever for the expulsion of a Province.

Nor do I believe that we should withhold funds from support of the Communion. I have preached and taught for over forty years that good stewardship means giving freely, with no strings attached, and that it is wrong to try and influence decisions or punish those with whom we disagree in the church by threatening to renege on a pledge of support.

I agree with those who believe that the Episcopal Church has been prophetic in a number of the actions we have taken — liturgical revision, the ordination of women, and now the full inclusion of gay and lesbian persons. Often, actions we have taken have taken the form of a kind of “civil (or ecclesiastical) disobedience” and any proponent of such a witness will tell you that it is not only expected, but absolutely necessary, to suffer the consequences of such actions. Only then, is the moral authority actually demonstrated.

While painful to say the least (as were the jail cells of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Martin Luther King) the pain can be endured if we are certain of the rightness of our cause and that the ultimate victory will be ours (or, in this case, God’s!). Both Dr. King and Archbishop Desmond Tutu had that kind of confidence…and so should we.

Two quotes from Dr. King (whose day we celebrate today…or on Monday) have provided me with a deep sense of peace in all this. I have used them both before in this very discussion of the Primates’ meeting and its results. I share them again with you, hoping for that same peace:

Unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.

And

The arm of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.

In other words, we should bless those who persecute us, bless not curse. And, although it may take a very long time, one day…in God’s good time…we will…all of us…be one.

I wrote yesterday that I hope the Primates of the Anglican Communion can find a way to model for us a way to disagree, but still to be bound together in love. Actually to learn from one another as we remain in dialogue for the sake of finding a deeper truth, a deeper unity.

Last night the President of the United States said, in his final State of the Union address: “Democracy grinds to a halt without a willingness to compromise, or when even basic facts are contested, and we listen only to those who agree with us.  Our public life withers when only the most extreme voices get attention.”

And so once again we see how religion and politics are so closely linked. Both the Anglican Communion and the United States of America (and other countries as well) are faced with the challenge of holding together diverse opinions in a single whole. To form “a more perfect union,” to know that we are “one body with many members.”

My fervent hope is that both the church and the nation(s) can find a way forward in this way. The reason for my hope? That both the church and the world are “under God” and that one more citation by the President is profoundly true: “I believe with all my heart that…”unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.” (Martin Luther King, Jr.)

Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby has delivered a fine address to open what many expect to be a contentious meeting of Anglican Primates (Archbishops) meeting this week in England. After an honest recounting of the successes and failures of the Anglican Communion throughout its history and the practical reasons for the Communion to find a way to stay together in mission in spite of our many differences, Welby’s main point can be summarized perhaps in this one sentence, “There has never been a time when the church was one in view, but it has often been one in heart.”

I believe that is profoundly true and so important for us to model in our time. At its best, the church can be a sign, an icon of just how it is possible for love to bind us together even when we disagree strongly on important matters. Welby also says, “The idea is often put forward that truth and unity are in conflict, or in tension. That is not true. Disunity presents to the world an untrue image of Jesus Christ. Lack of truth corrodes and destroys unity.”

I disagree partly with this. I believe that truth and unity can indeed be, and often are, in tension. But they need not ultimately be a matter of conflict. It is only when we stay together, in dialogue, in communion, in mutuality that we can find our way to a deeper unity precisely as we learn from each other and “bear with one another in love.” When we walk away from one another we lose the opportunity to forge a greater and deeper unity based on the truth we can discover together.

Let us hope that the leaders of the various Provinces of our Anglican Communion can find a way to model that way of being together this week. Not just for the sake of the church. But for the sake of the world.

It’s not just the star

Guiding some Eastern sages

It’s light for us all

Christians take their Christmas trees down today. Actually, most of them already have!  But regardless, this is Epiphany and the Twelve Days of the Christmas season are over.  If the essential message of Christmas is that “God is with us” the essential message of Epiphany is that this message is for all the world.

The sweet story of some Persian astrologers (we’re never told how many there were) following a wandering star to a baby’s rough-hewn manger in Bethlehem is the gospel-writer Matthew’s way of telling us that he believes this Jewish child will grow up to be a “light to the nations.” The message of God’s love, seen in a particular way, in the life of Jesus is intended, not only for the people of Israel, but for all the people of the earth.

We are all “the Chosen People.” Chosen, not for privilege, but for a mission. The mission? To cooperate in building a world united in bonds of justice and peace. For Christians, this is done by following the example and teachings of a first-century Jewish rabbi named Jesus and by forming partnerships with people of good will everywhere who share that same dream. So,

It’s not just the star

Guiding some Eastern sages

It’s light for us all

Happy Epiphany!

There is probably no more painful, volatile issue facing this nation, and countries all around the world, than the problem of immigration. Whether it’s dealing with undocumented people already here, or massive migration due to war and famine in Africa, or the more recent wave of Syrians  (and other Middle Easterners) moving across Europe, fleeing violence and terrorism in their home countries — the problem is huge.

And, of course, the problem is exacerbated by real, or imagined, fears of terrorism at home, the need for border security and how to do adequate background checks to be as sure as we can that people entering our country (or the other nations of the earth) are not intending harm. I don’t claim to have easy answers or comprehensive solutions to any of this.

In this country at least, that will have to be worked out in the messiness of the democratic process until some just and reasonable consensus can be found. But of one thing I am certain: we cannot run away from this issue or pretend that we do not have a responsibility to address it. For people of faith in the United States, that’s not only because we have always been a nation of immigrants and Lady Liberty proclaims to the world:

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”

No, it’s not only because of those noble sentiments that we have to be open to immigration, but because – as Jews and Christians – we hear texts like these every weekend: “See, I am going to bring them from the land of the north, and gather them from the farthest part of the earth, among them the blind and the lame, those with child and those in labor, together; a great company…and they shall never languish again…I will turn their mourning into joy, I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow…” (Jeremiah 31:8, 12c, 13b)

Passages like these reminded the people of Israel that they had once been exiles themselves and their prophets have always called them to welcome the stranger and the sojourner as well.

And, of course, no less a light than Pope Francis has made this urgent plea, commenting on a passage from the Gospel according to Matthew:

“We believe that Jesus was a refugee, had to flee to save his life, with Saint Joseph and Mary, had to leave for Egypt,” Pope Francis said. “He was a refugee. Let us pray to Our Lady who knows the pain of refugees.”

“The number of these brother (and sister) refugees is growing and, in these past… days, thousands more have been forced to leave their homes in order to save their life. Millions of families, millions of them, refugees from many countries and different faiths, experience in their stories tragedies and wounds that will not likely be healed…Let us be their neighbors, share their fears and uncertainty about the future, and take concrete steps to reduce their suffering.”

In the final analysis, that’s what the Church asks of us. Not to wait until we have solved all the problems, not to avoid wrestling with the issue just because it’s difficult and uncomfortable, but…along with the other nations of the earth to “take concrete steps to reduce their suffering.”

That’s the least we can do, it seems to me. Those of us who trace our heritage back to the people of Israel who have been refugees and immigrants for so much of their history. Those of us who follow the Christ Child who himself – Matthew’s Gospel tells us — was once a refugee in the same part of the world where we find so many of them today.

That’s the least we can do….it seems to me…

In this New Year…