Why Sex Is a Complicating Factor but Not the Real Issue
Sex sells in America. One
particular commercial comes to mind. It involves a woman shampooing her
hair in an airplane restroom while making incredibly suggestive sounds
that are heard to the great shock of everyone else on the flight. What
does sex have to do with buying shampoo? Nothing, of course. The Church
is learning the hard way what advertisers learned long ago. Sex sells
because it pushes decision making from our most rational capacities to
our most visceral ones.
The presenting issues of
our current controversy in the Church are sexual, specifically whether
the Church can be supportive of a certain kind of same sex relationship
(marked by mutual love and respect, exclusivity among partners, and
lifelong commitment) and whether people in such relationships should
hold positions of ordained leadership, especially as bishops.
Reasonable, intelligent, and equally committed people of faith, to be
sure, hold different and completely rational opinions about these
issues. That is not the problem. The problem is that sex pushes us to
react viscerally and instinctively instead, and we frequently succumb,
as much on one side of the issues as the other. It is this visceral
reactivity that is behind the name calling, slander, and rampant
immaturity bedeviling us at the moment and getting in the way of any
thoughtful resolution of the issues. Visceral may be OK for buying
shampoo. Faith deserves better.
It concerns me that our
reactivity around sex, and especially homosexuality, is keeping us from
seeing that the current controversy is no more really about sex than is
what kind of shampoo we buy. If sexual ethics were the real underlying
issue driving us, we would be dealing with our Church’s 1973 decision to
allow divorced persons to remarry just as much as we are dealing with
our Church’s 2003 decision to allow a partnered gay man to be a bishop.
The theological issues are very much alike.
Both decisions raise
issues of scriptural authority. Indeed, the scriptural case forbidding
remarriage after divorce is stronger than that involving homosexuality
(Mk. 10:11-12; Mt. 19:9). Both decisions raise issues of sin. It is
difficult for us to face, but what Jesus said is sinful is not divorce;
it is remarriage. In fact he defined it as a sin that the Old Testament
treats exactly as it treats “a man who lies with a male as with a woman”
(Lev. 20:13). Both decisions seem to go against the weight of almost
2,000 years of Christian tradition, at least on the surface. Remarriage
after divorce raises issues of the sanctity of marriage that the
homosexual relationships we are talking about do not, specifically that
marriage is spiritually indissoluble and that it is intended for one man
and one woman, not one at a time but just one forever. And remarriage
after divorce gets at the core of Christian sexual ethics much more
significantly than homosexuality if for no other reason than that it
applies to so many more people.
However, we are not
hearing about the decision to allow divorced persons to remarry. The
reason is that sex is not the real issue. Instead, sex is having the
same effect on our conversation that it is intended to have on our
decisions about shampoo purchases. Our visceral reactivity may be
obscuring what is in fact at stake. We cannot afford that.
And there are church
leaders, even those who see the issues quite differently than I do, who
will acknowledge that the real issue isn’t sex at all. Bishop Robert
Duncan of Pittsburgh, the leader of the Anglican Communion Network, is
one. In the recent and much-read article by Peter Boyer in the April 17
issue of the New Yorker, “A Church Asunder,” Bishop Duncan says,
“I’m not in a fight over sexuality, gracious sakes” (p. 60). It is one
of the things on which he and I agree.
What the Real Issue Is
At the House of Bishops
meeting in the fall of 2002, Bishop Duncan stated that his intention was
to force a constitutional crisis in our Church. After having spent many
hours in intense (and helpful, at least to me) conversations with Bishop
Duncan, I think that he and I might also agree that it is this
constitutional crisis that is really at stake now. The constitutional
crisis goes beyond written charters and their interpretation, although
it involves those. It goes to the very nature of The Episcopal Church,
and indeed of Anglicanism. The question we are facing is whether
Anglicanism, as a broadly comprehensive community of faith, can long
endure.
The constitutional issue
we face is between two competing visions of what it means to be an
Anglican. One vision has its roots in the English Reformation,
particularly something known as the Elizabethan Settlement with its key
principles of (1) common prayer as the broadly inclusive framework of
unity holding together a diversity of doctrinal belief on even
fundamental issues and (2) local leadership of the local church. This
vision of Anglicanism seems to me particularly well-suited for a world
endangered by rising and intolerant fundamentalism, coping with
globalization, and struggling with an ever-increasing rate of
significant change and its resultant discomfort.
The alternative vision
sees our roots in the English Reformation as fatally flawed. Dean Paul
Zahl of the Trinity Episcopal School for Ministry states, “This whole
crisis has revealed a very serious deficiency in the character of
Anglicanism. It’s a severe deficiency in Anglicanism because there isn’t
really a church teaching in the same way there is in the Church of
Rome…. I would say there is a constitutional weakness, which this crisis
has revealed, which may in fact prove to be the death of the Anglican
project—the death, at least in formal terms, of Anglican Christianity.
We’ve always said that we’ve had this great insight, and I used to think
that we did” (New Yorker, p. 63).
There you have it. The
first vision of Anglicanism sees our character as having continuing
validity and perhaps being uniquely suited for our times. The second
sees our character as severely deficient and constitutionally weak. How
the two can coexist with so fundamental a difference is not clear. The
difficulty is this. The second vision intends to replace the first, not
coexist with it (New Yorker, p. 65). At the same time, if the
first does not make room for the second to be heard, the traditional
Anglican approach of comprehensiveness will be no less endangered.
Anglicanism cannot be legitimately defended by stifling dissent any more
than the American constitutional principle of freedom of speech can. It
is quite possible that the traditional Anglican approach to
spirituality, theology, and seeking God’s truth may well vanish from the
earth. If we Episcopalians allow that to happen, what I always believed
was our most important characteristic will have become our tragic fl aw.
Our Heritage as Anglicans
So let us turn our
attention to the traditional vision of Anglicanism to see what exactly
is at stake.
Anglicanism took shape in
the crucible of the English Reformation. The issues of the day were
theological, like what the Eucharist meant and justification by faith.
They were not sexy issues by our standards, but they were perhaps more
basic ones.
The resolution of these
issues swung between Catholic and Protestant views leaving a violent
wake behind. The often bloody conflict was resolved in a collection of
actions we know today as the Elizabethan Settlement, named for Queen
Elizabeth I, its architect. The two most important of those actions were
the Act of Supremacy and the Act of Uniformity, both passed by
Parliament in 1559, the same year as the Prayer Book of Elizabeth’s
reign was published. The Act of Supremacy declared that the English
monarch was the supreme governor of the English Church. It was aimed in
its day, of course, at the Pope, a “foreign” prelate. The constitutional
principle it has left us is that the local church is best led by those
who actually live in it, those who are actually responsible for the
people’s care (in The Episcopal Church this includes the people
themselves), those who are accountable to the community they serve.
The Act of Uniformity
mandated the use of one official Prayer Book for the English Church. For
all of its mandatory character as to how the Church of England prayed,
what it also did was provide wide latitude for what the individual
members of the Church of England believed in their consciences. For
example, as to Eucharistic theology, the English Reformation had swung
between the exclusionary extremes of the Catholic understanding of
transubstantiation (as in the first Prayer Book of Edward VI in 1549,
which declared with respect to the consecrated bread, “The Body of Our
Lord Jesus Christ”) and the Protestant understanding of memorial (as in
the Second Prayer Book of Edward VI in 1552, which declared with respect
to the same bread, “Take and eat this in remembrance that Christ died
for thee”). Elizabeth put the two formularies together in her Prayer
Book of 1559, their logical inconsistency notwithstanding.
Now it is sometimes said
that Elizabeth was not concerned about truth, only order (New Yorker,
p. 63). In reality that does Elizabeth a considerable disservice. What
is closer to the truth is that in the face of two opinions, both
rational, intelligent, and faithful, and about which no consensus
existed, Elizabeth concentrated on the process by which we search for
truth as the priority. In the face of serious and widespread
disagreement, Elizabeth opted for respectful coexistence rather than
premature resolution. Elizabeth’s Prayer Book allowed complementary
understandings of the truth to coexist with respect and within a
framework of common prayer, which in fact did allow a common
understanding to emerge in time, something we call the Doctrine of the
Real Presence.
To put it another way,
Elizabeth had the wisdom in the context of the doctrinal wars of the
Reformation to define orthodoxy by its original meaning, which is “right
worship,” and not by its subsequently acquired meaning of “right
belief.” It isn’t that Elizabeth defined truth out of Anglicanism. It is
that she resolved the English Reformation by concentrating on the
patient and tolerant process of seeking truth, which promotes a
broad diversity in the short run and a committed consensus in the long
run, rather than the knowledge of the substance of truth as the
Continental Reformation had, which promotes a rather unhelpful lack of
humility in the face of rational and widely held difference of opinion.
Whether we will continue
to be guided by Elizabeth’s wisdom in the process of seeking God’s truth
in common prayer rather than by being told the truth from above,
particularly by the church hierarchy exclusively, is what is at stake (New
Yorker, p. 63). The question is whether our discomfort, especially
in the face of the incredibly rapid change that so characterizes our
world, will lead us to abandon the slow and messy way we Anglicans have
sought God’s mind, which exacerbates rather than relieves that
discomfort, in order to feel better sooner.
Before we are too quick
to point fingers, let me say that our intolerance for discomfort has led
us to weaken Anglican comprehensiveness on the basis of positions I
agree with as much as on the basis of positions I disagree with.
Discomfort is an equal opportunity malady. Anglican comprehensiveness
has also been challenged by the marginalization of those who oppose the
ordination of women. Once one theological minority is relegated to the
margins, it becomes perfectly acceptable to relegate others there, too.
In the same way, once a break in communion is tolerated for one
doctrinal controversy, it becomes perfectly acceptable to resolve others
the same way.
The limits of Anglican
comprehensiveness have been challenged before. It is being challenged
now. What has not been challenged until now is the principle of local
leadership. Episcopalians at least have not purported to decide the
question of women’s ordination or homosexuality for anyone but
themselves. The same is not true with respect to archbishops of other
provinces who have attempted to impose their absolute and unquestioning
understanding of God’s truth on us (New Yorker, p. 63-64).
The Globalization of Our
Anglican Heritage
As well as it may have
served the Church in the past, it could be that the Elizabethan
Settlement is not up to the challenges posed by an emerging worldwide
family of churches having a common Anglican identity but seeing the
world from quite different perspectives. The international character of
a communion of churches was not something the Elizabethan Settlement had
to face until The Episcopal Church emerged into the world in the
aftermath of the American Revolution. It was only then that the Church
of England acquired a sibling for the first time, through awkwardly and
perhaps against its will. And as with the addition of any sibling to a
family, things began to get more complicated. The application of the
Elizabethan Settlement in a new environment of independent countries no
longer ecclesiastically or politically bound was one of those
complications.
Things were to get more
complicated still. Over the years, the Anglican family of churches grew
as a result of English colonialism. The English colonial experience and
the expansion of the Church of England eventually led to the calling of
the first Lambeth Conference of Anglican bishops from all over the
world, but only after any intention that the Conference decide issues of
doctrine for the individual churches was abandoned. Indeed, the
Archbishop of Canterbury’s invitation to the first Lambeth conference
specifically stated that the Conference “would not be competent to make
declarations, or lay down definitions on points of doctrine.” Archbishop
Benson, in opening the second conference, reaffirmed the principle that
“the Conference was in no sense a Synod and not adapted, or competent,
or within its powers, if it should attempt to make binding decisions on
doctrines or discipline.” Instead, its purpose was conceived of as
missional and pastoral. The motive of missional cooperation also
eventually led to the creation of the Anglican Consultative Council and
the Primates’ Meeting (in that order), which along with the Lambeth
Conference and the Archbishop of Canterbury we now call the Anglican
Communion’s Instruments of Unity.
Anglicans have
experienced Church unity in practice on a relational level and by our
common participation in the Instruments of Unity, especially for
purposes of mission. We have understood Church unity in theory by a
foundational Anglican document known as the Chicago-Lambeth
Quadrilateral (BCP, pp. 876-878). The Quadrilateral defines Church unity
by four distinctive characteristics: (1) the Holy Scriptures as
containing all things necessary to salvation and as the ultimate
standard of faith, (2) the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds as sufficient
statements of the Christian faith, (3) the Sacraments of Holy Baptism
and Holy Eucharist, and (4) the historic episcopal succession locally
adapted. The competing vision of Anglicanism now seeks to add a fifth,
doctrinal agreement beyond the broadly inclusive framework of the
Quadrilateral.
The Windsor Report’s
Contribution
Here the Windsor Report
enters the conversation between Anglicanism’s competing visions. It has
“invited” The Episcopal Church and the Anglican Church of Canada to
enact moratoria on the authorization of public rites for the blessing of
same sex relationships and the consecration of any additional gay
bishops, at least in partnered relationships. It has also asked other
provinces for a moratorium on crossing the boundaries of The Episcopal
Church so as to interfere with the leadership of the local church by the
local bishop. Pending an authoritative response by the General
Convention, The Episcopal Church has met all of the Windsor Report’s
requests. Other provinces have not complied with respect to the
interference in our Church.
The Episcopal Church will
consider the Windsor Report and respond to its requests at the General
Convention next month. It is too early to predict what that response
will be, but the initial proposals are to agree not to authorize public
rites for the blessing of same sex relationships and to leave the issue
of future bishops to our constitutional processes as The Episcopal
Church with the request that all involved exercise extreme caution and
care for the positions of our Anglican partners. I, for one, can live
with those proposals even though there are aspects of them I don’t
particularly like, and it is my hope that the final response will not
vary too much from what is proposed. I do not expect the Anglican
Provinces of Nigeria, Uganda, or the Southern Cone to heed the requests
of the Windsor Report about interfering in The Episcopal Church. The
wrongs of others, however, are not a good reason for us to fail to do
the right thing ourselves.
So what is the Windsor
Report that we are responding to in light of what is really at stake? To
the extent the Windsor Report is a voice in the conversation, it is
helpful, because it raises some valid questions about how the identity
of the family of churches we call the Anglican Communion is continuing
to emerge in its characteristically untidy way. To the extent it is an
ultimatum, a threat, or a laying down of the law by some siblings to
others, though, it represents one vision of Anglicanism supplanting the
other and abandoning the Elizabethan Settlement altogether.
Time Will Soon Tell
Those who prefer the
older vision of Anglicanism, in order to be true to our own values, must
make room for the alternative vision to have a place, to be a part of
the conversation. That is so because it is true to our heritage and
constitutional nature even though the newer vision now asserting itself
would not make room for the coexistence of the original one. We must not
marginalize anyone on the basis of a legitimate disagreement, even those
who would marginalize us. That may indeed be our fatal fl aw, and time
will soon tell.
What I believe is that
preserving the traditional Anglican theological process of seeking truth
in common prayer will still serve us well if we let it. What I believe
is that the traditional vision will be able to make room for the
alternative vision without succumbing to it. The best protection against
error, after all, is the free exchange of ideas. In fact, in a world
facing the discomforting challenges that ours is, particularly the
rapidity of change, I believe the traditional Anglican approach is the
world’s best religious hope and perhaps the only one that will be able
to carry the Christian faith far into a new millennium. But whether it
will survive the General Convention of 2006 and the Lambeth Conference
of 2008 is very much in question. That, though, and certainly not sex,
is what is really at stake.
WILLIAM DUKE (Parishioner, St. Stephen's Episcopal Church): All
my life, I've heard the General Conventions mess things up. And I imagine
they'll mess some things up here, but this is part of the existence of the
church.
It's
been a tumultuous three years since the last General Convention approved Bishop
Robinson's consecration and voted to permit the blessing of same-sex unions.
That set off a firestorm of controversy in the U.S. church and across the 77
million-member Anglican Communion. Leaders of more conservative Anglican
churches in Africa, Asia, and South America accused the Episcopal Church of
disregarding Scripture and centuries of church teachings.
Bishop PETER LEE (Diocese of Virginia): I think this convention
will take steps that will indicate, number one, that we in the Episcopal Church
want to be part of the worldwide Anglican Communion, and secondly, that we're
willing to take steps to respect the concerns and the point of view of Anglicans
elsewhere in the world.
Archbishop HENRY OROMBI (Anglican Church of Uganda): I think it
is a question of being like-minded and thinking together and working together.
That's already there. 
Canon MINNS: The church here has been invested in this property
for many, many years, and it seems to me that this is their home. So why should
they abandon their home when in fact, they've not changed anything? It's the
rest of the church that's changed, not us.
Reverend GARY JONES (St. Stephen's Episcopal Church): I don't
worry about it coming up. I just worry about it completely dominating our life.
And if it can be dealt with seriously, prayerfully -- wonderful. But we also
have to remember we have a lot of other work to do as well.