We had a very serious discussion after church today, one in which many people spoke very eloquently and movingly, most confused and angry and hurt. The issue was what to do about our upcoming patronal festival (All Souls Day), to which Cathy Roskam (below), Suffragan Bishop of New York, has been invited to celebrate. Bishop Roskam was invited because she spent many years at Holy Apostles, and was there at the birth of the Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen, whose 25th anniversary will be marked (not celebrated!) at this service. 
I have great respect for Bishop Roskam, having heard her preach, provide the most useful analysis of what's behind the escalating tensions within the Anglican Communion - and having myself been received into the Anglican Communion by her in 2002.
To many in the congregation, however, she has become persona non grata, along with all the other bishops of the Episcopal Church (except one, from California) for having "caved in" to the demands of the African bishops at their recent meeting in New Orleans. The Episcopal bishops did not in fact do much of anything (although they reaffirmed the infamous B033 from the last General Convention) - their point being that in the Episcopal Church, alone among provinces of the Communion, bishops cannot make policy without consulting with the laity, so no judgments one way or the other on the ordination of gay bishops and the blessing of gay unions can be made until the next General Convention in 2009. Even theological questions are not the special province of the bishops, so they did not make a theological argument for the Episcopal Church's understanding of the mandate for an inclusive community of the baptized, merely reiterating a human rights argument against discrimination. It's a stalling tactic, of course, but also entirely right. And who knows: the homophobic alliance may fall apart by summer 2009, united as it is by little more than their common enemy.
What's that got to do with our patronal festival? Well, many at Holy Apostles (not just gay and lesbian parishioners) feel that they have been betrayed by Bishop Roskam and her peers, who should have denounced the southern Primates rather than accede to their demands. Some would like to see her uninvited, and others are threatening to boycott the service if she comes.
I went into the discussion thinking it was a tempest in a teacup - to uninvite would be inhospitable, and to pick a public fight with someone who is on the right side of most issues (including the sexuality issues) would be foolish. I'm persuaded by things I've heard her say about other related issues within the Anglican Communion (like the status of women), as well as by the experience of a year in another part of the Anglican Communion, that the bishops' position, while disappointing, is disappointing in all the right ways. The Episcopal Church's prophetic witness (if I may be so bold) is not just its full acceptance of Christians of all sexual orientations, but in other things too, including its "polity" - a church designed to allow lay people a significant voice, and so the only body in the whole Anglican Communion in which women are properly represented.
But after this discussion I wonder if I'm not too quick to accept compromise. In the discussion, people (wonderful, kind, committed, truly Christian people) spoke who have suffered betrayal many times by people they thought they could trust - Kathy Roskam's betrayal (as they experience it) is only the latest. "I'm starting to wonder if we have any real allies at all," said one woman with great sadness. Another counseled us not to do anything, invoking a rule from Twelve Step programs called HALT - don't make a decision when you're hungry, angry, lonely or tired; "I'm all of those things right now, and I'm sure I'm not the only one," he said. A man who is one of the most intelligent, accomplished and - I thought - cheerful people I've ever known said that his earliest memory (from when he was four or so) was of not fitting in, and feeling that it made his parents sad, and that he had to do something to dull or hide the pain; this was something he said has shaped his personality, his career (he works for a major philanthropic organization), his relationships - and it rings true for what I know of him. He doesn't know what to do, but is grateful for a place where he can know he is loved (meaning Holy Apostles).
Does Bishop Roskam appreciate the extent of the pain out there, the grief? One of her fellow bishops, Mark Sisk, wrote a letter expressing his sorrow over the pain caused by B033 (though not over this reaffirmation); Bishop Roskam has never acknowledged the pain, stranger still for her experience as a woman who suffered (and suffers) much prejudice in her career.
The discussion made this pain plain. This wasn't just the familiar pain of homophobia, it was the pain of a church in crisis, of a community of loving believers torn apart. The Episcopal Church has seemed to many of us a prophetic corrective, an anticipation of a better world. I suppose I'm still more inclined to accept the political arguments of the bishops, but this discussion has made me wonder if it isn't also that I've become so accustomed to being sent to the back of the line that I haven't ever fully believed the church's promise to right this wrong. O ye of little faith.
I have great respect for Bishop Roskam, having heard her preach, provide the most useful analysis of what's behind the escalating tensions within the Anglican Communion - and having myself been received into the Anglican Communion by her in 2002.To many in the congregation, however, she has become persona non grata, along with all the other bishops of the Episcopal Church (except one, from California) for having "caved in" to the demands of the African bishops at their recent meeting in New Orleans. The Episcopal bishops did not in fact do much of anything (although they reaffirmed the infamous B033 from the last General Convention) - their point being that in the Episcopal Church, alone among provinces of the Communion, bishops cannot make policy without consulting with the laity, so no judgments one way or the other on the ordination of gay bishops and the blessing of gay unions can be made until the next General Convention in 2009. Even theological questions are not the special province of the bishops, so they did not make a theological argument for the Episcopal Church's understanding of the mandate for an inclusive community of the baptized, merely reiterating a human rights argument against discrimination. It's a stalling tactic, of course, but also entirely right. And who knows: the homophobic alliance may fall apart by summer 2009, united as it is by little more than their common enemy.
What's that got to do with our patronal festival? Well, many at Holy Apostles (not just gay and lesbian parishioners) feel that they have been betrayed by Bishop Roskam and her peers, who should have denounced the southern Primates rather than accede to their demands. Some would like to see her uninvited, and others are threatening to boycott the service if she comes.
I went into the discussion thinking it was a tempest in a teacup - to uninvite would be inhospitable, and to pick a public fight with someone who is on the right side of most issues (including the sexuality issues) would be foolish. I'm persuaded by things I've heard her say about other related issues within the Anglican Communion (like the status of women), as well as by the experience of a year in another part of the Anglican Communion, that the bishops' position, while disappointing, is disappointing in all the right ways. The Episcopal Church's prophetic witness (if I may be so bold) is not just its full acceptance of Christians of all sexual orientations, but in other things too, including its "polity" - a church designed to allow lay people a significant voice, and so the only body in the whole Anglican Communion in which women are properly represented.
But after this discussion I wonder if I'm not too quick to accept compromise. In the discussion, people (wonderful, kind, committed, truly Christian people) spoke who have suffered betrayal many times by people they thought they could trust - Kathy Roskam's betrayal (as they experience it) is only the latest. "I'm starting to wonder if we have any real allies at all," said one woman with great sadness. Another counseled us not to do anything, invoking a rule from Twelve Step programs called HALT - don't make a decision when you're hungry, angry, lonely or tired; "I'm all of those things right now, and I'm sure I'm not the only one," he said. A man who is one of the most intelligent, accomplished and - I thought - cheerful people I've ever known said that his earliest memory (from when he was four or so) was of not fitting in, and feeling that it made his parents sad, and that he had to do something to dull or hide the pain; this was something he said has shaped his personality, his career (he works for a major philanthropic organization), his relationships - and it rings true for what I know of him. He doesn't know what to do, but is grateful for a place where he can know he is loved (meaning Holy Apostles).
Does Bishop Roskam appreciate the extent of the pain out there, the grief? One of her fellow bishops, Mark Sisk, wrote a letter expressing his sorrow over the pain caused by B033 (though not over this reaffirmation); Bishop Roskam has never acknowledged the pain, stranger still for her experience as a woman who suffered (and suffers) much prejudice in her career.
The discussion made this pain plain. This wasn't just the familiar pain of homophobia, it was the pain of a church in crisis, of a community of loving believers torn apart. The Episcopal Church has seemed to many of us a prophetic corrective, an anticipation of a better world. I suppose I'm still more inclined to accept the political arguments of the bishops, but this discussion has made me wonder if it isn't also that I've become so accustomed to being sent to the back of the line that I haven't ever fully believed the church's promise to right this wrong. O ye of little faith.
