Equal marriage in the Episcopal Church

So i kept that Twitter window open....aw, hell, I gave up any pretense of working and just watched the tweets, as the House of Deputies considered the resolutions that would equalize marriage rights (on a trial basis, technically, but still) and bring the canons up to speed wth gender neutral language, while allowing any clergy or bishops who are uncomfortable to "opt out" yet preserving the right of gay couples to marry in church.  

And I have been watching news from General Conventions for years, one way or another, as I rooted for the Episcopal Church to live up to its promises, and to become a safe space for me to push my wife.  And slowly, slowly, it has, and I pushed her, and she swam, and now she's like Uber Episcopalian and I'm spending my afternoon tearing up at twitter feeds on arcane points of order in a triennial assembly of people I love even though I don't share faith with them.

Because the House of Bishops voted to make marriage liturgy equal, and to change the canons, while preserving some Anglican fudge so that clergy and bishops who are not comfortable, have some cover.

And then the House of Deputies did the same.

And both votes were substantial.  Let your yes mean yes, indeed.

And there were General Convention jokes, ranging from the jokes about being Nimble (aka Bonnieball) from the last GC and you KNOW you are a church nerd if you remember that three years down the line, to the delegation from Texas handing out prunes to "move things along", and the OMG moment when....

The Episcopal Church, the Republican Party at Prayer, the Old Establishment, voted for marriage equality.

Oh, yes, and then there is that absolutely FABULOUS preacher Michael Curry they voted in for the next PB.... but we'll talk about him separately...

From CBS:

The Episcopal Church, with nearly 1.9 million members, has included many of the Founding Fathers and presidents.

Among mainline Protestant groups, only the United Church of Christ and the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), both of which are smaller than the Episcopal Church, allow same-sex weddings in all their congregations....

The Episcopal Church has already made history during the convention, electing its first black presiding bishop. Bishop Michael Curry of North Carolina won in a landslide over the weekend.

Curry has allowed same-sex church weddings in North Carolina, and he said the Supreme Court "affirmed the authenticity of love" by legalizing gay marriage.

Quote of the Day

A newly baptised Episcopalian writes,

If Christianity was one big high school lunchroom, Episcopalians would be the awesome nerdfighters at the table in the corner, passionately debating all aspects of their faith with one another.

and more seriously,

I acknowledge that Christianity is often countermanded and corrupted for heinous and spiteful things. But I refuse to accept that as the status quo. At the end of the day, I’m a Christian because faith, and our openness to God and to one another, make us stronger and more willing to engage the world as it unfolds and changes around us.

And that’s the best any of us can hope for Christianity in America; the conversation continues, we continue to have faith and we keep our heads and hearts equally open to one another and our needs and beliefs.

Amen.

Marriage equality is a religious value, glad to see TEC right in front!

We are about a week away from oral arguments on marriage equality. The amicus briefs are all in and finally, finally the press is noticing that "Christian" is NOT synonymous with anti-equality. From Think Progress:

But even as this wave of anti-LGBT briefs makes its way to the desks of Supreme Court clerks, a number of religious groups are also submitting or signing on to briefs in support of same-sex marriage. The briefs, once cobbled together by a few progressive faith traditions, now brandish the names of thousands of historic Christian leaders and institutions, each voicing positions that challenge old religious views of homosexuality and highlight just how far America’s theological goal posts have shifted on the topic of same-sex marriage.

The largest of these was submitted earlier this year by the President of the House of Deputies of the Episcopal Church.

Yay, TEC!

Originally organized through the work of several Episcopal bishops, it was co-signed by a long list of groups from across the “Judeo-Christian” religious spectrum, such as the United Church of Christ, the Union for Reform Judaism, the Unitarian Universalist Association, and Muslims for Progressive Values, as well as pro-LGBT groups operating within Quakerism, Methodism, Presbyterianism, and Lutheranism. Like many left-leaning progressives, the brief argues the Court is primarily tasked with discerning the civil — not religious — definition of marriage, but highlighted the swelling number of Americans whose faith calls them to embrace LGBT rights.

And then (my emphases)

There is, of course, precedent for faith groups endorsing marriage equality with amicus briefs. A similar list of progressive religious groups, also led by Episcopal bishops, crafted a brief affirming same-sex marriage ahead of the 2013 U.S. Supreme Court case on California’s Proposition 8, which banned LGBT people from legally marrying in the state from 2008 to 2013. Briefs favoring LGBT couples were also filed in 2013 by the American Jewish Committee and the California Council of Churches.

But if Proposition 8 opened up a trickle of faith-based support for LGBT rights, Obergefell v. Hodges unleashed a veritable flood. The list of signatories in the 2013 brief from Episcopal bishops, for example, totaled a mere 6 pages. By contrast, the bishops’ brief in advance of the 2015 case includes several new organizations and the individual names of more than 1,900 faith leaders, additions that stretch the list of spiritual endorsers to a whopping 117 pages.

Welcome aboard everyone.  Now let's get this done!

The Attraction of the Episcopal Church, 4

Another young Evangelical, Lindsey Herts, explains why she's attending the Episcopal church. She describes attending church in an unfamiliar city

As we were waiting for the service to begin, the silence of the place washed over me. It gave me permission to lay down my arms and discard any kind of mask I wanted to put on. In a way, it was like the silence stripped me of my false identity, left me naked, and allowed me just to simply be. The silence in each Episcopal service I've attended has affected me in the the same way. ...

Then it came time for Eucharist. We were invited to kneel around the table together while the rector came around and fed us each the bread and wine. Whenever I was kneeling and chewing the piece of bread, I started to tear up because something about this moment just felt right. I thought to myself, "I'm at the same table as the middle aged black man in the nice suit and the older white couple and the homeless guys. We're all kneeling. We're all being fed. We're all eating the same bread and literally drinking from the same cup."

I think that's why I can't manage to pull myself away from the Episcopal church right now. Everything is centered around this one moment where people of all ages, gender identities, races, ethnicities, sexual orientations, political beliefs, and backgrounds are welcome to come to the table and receive the elements. ....

I've started crossing myself, walking the labyrinth at my church, and reading from the book of common prayer when I'm not sure what to pray. The ancient practices and prayers are beginning to slowly but surely draw me back to the heart of the God I fell in love with 7.5 years ago, except in a different manner than I ever would have expected. I'm finding that God is much more inclusive and full of grace than I initially thought.

The Attraction of the Episcopal Church, 3

Ben Irwin shares 11 things he loves about the Episcopal Church, including

1. The way the liturgy soaks into your being.

The first few times I walked through those big red doors, I didn’t know the code. I didn’t know when to sit or stand. I didn’t know how to use the prayer book. I didn’t know how to cross myself.

While others have sought to make Christianity as accessible as possible, the liturgy of the Episcopal Church feels other, like a strange artifact calling us into a different and slightly foreign reality. Learning the liturgy was like learning a new language.

These days, I’m having to rely less on the prayer book. After months (and now years) of repetition, the words and movements come more naturally from within.....

....

When I struggle to believe, the rhythms and patterns and prayers of the liturgy are like an anchor. It’s as if the rest of the community—those around me and those who came before me—are saying, “It’s OK. We’ll carry you through this part.”
....
4. The way it embraces orthodoxy without rigidity.
....

Anglicanism has long been known as the via media, the “middle way” between two traditions. The Episcopal Church has also helped me navigate the middle way between unbelief and dogmatism. Ours is a faith handed down from the apostles, but not one so fragile that it cannot cope with science, with new findings about the origins of the universe, ourselves, or whatever else we might discover.
...
5. How it makes room for those who’ve been burned out, worn out, or otherwise cast out. ...

A lot of us have burned out on our faith at some point—or been cast out. Maybe it’s because we grew tired of always having to pretend we have it all together. Or maybe someone’s gender or some other part of their identity excluded them from service. Maybe we were told we had to choose between science and faith. Or maybe we were just beaten down by the relentless drum of condemnation.

The Episcopal Church is a refuge, a respite, a place where we can come as we are and learn to receive grace again. ...

6. The way you can simply be, if that’s all you can do.

....

We belong so that we might find a common faith together, not the other way around.

The Attraction of the Episcopal Church, 2

Continuing our series by quoting from young Evangelicals who have found their way through the big red doors, Rachel Held Evans:

At first, the liturgy of the Episcopal Church captured me with its novelty. The chants and collects, calls and responses were a refreshing departure from the contemporary evangelical worship I’d come to associate with all my evangelical baggage. I liked confessing and receiving communion each week. I liked reciting the Lord’s Prayer and the Apostle’s Creed together in community. I liked the smells and bells. Each Sunday I’d stuff the sandy-colored bulletin in my purse so I could go home and study the rhythm of this worship, imbibing the poetry of those holy words.

We didn’t know many people then. I kept my eyes on the floor as I walked away from the Table on Sundays, afraid of exchanging too many warm smiles, afraid of becoming too familiar to these kind, religious people who, like all kind, religious people will inevitably disappoint and be disappointed. ....

But we’ve been showing up for nearly six months now, and so it is a different sort of beauty I encounter on Sunday mornings these days—the beauty of familiarity, of sweet routine.

I know the order of service now. I know it well enough to have favorite parts, to skim ahead when I’m hungry or restless, to get the songs stuck in my head. And we know the people too.... 

It is a season of new songs.

It is a season of receiving, of being loved just for showing up.

I am holding all these gifts gingerly, like fragile blue eggs I’m afraid to break. I am holding them the way I hold that white wafer in my cupped, open hands—grateful, relieved, and still just a little bit frightened of what will happen when I take it and eat.

The attraction of the Episcopal Church, 1

A number of individuals from more Evangelical traditions have found themselves worshiping in Episocpal churches lately.  I'm going to quote them over the next couple of days.  Do you see yourself?

Jonathan Martin, a Pentacostal preacher, on walking through the big red doors.

I loved that it never felt like the church was trying to sell me anything. I loved that really, nobody is fussed over at all—there is just is not that kind of VIP treatment for anybody. The vibe is, “this is the kind of worship we do here, and you are welcome to come and do this with us…or not.” The liturgy there does not try to coerce everyone into the same emotional experience, but in its corporate unity strangely creates space for us all to have a very personal experience of God. I have commented to friends that I have never actually prayed this much in church before.

With my own world feeling disordered and untethered, I am quite happy to be told when to kneel and when to sit and when to stand. I love that there is almost no space in the worship experience to spectate, because almost every moment invites (but not demands) participation. I have been in no position to tell my heart what to do. But because the Church told my body what to do in worship, my heart has been able to follow—sometimes. And that is enough for now.

He goes on,

The thing I love about Catholic, Anglican and Pentecostal tradition (when it is rightly understood), is that they are based on shared practices rather than shared beliefs. At St. Peter’s, we recite the Nicene creed every week. But the practice of the liturgy from The Book of Common Prayer in general, and the shared experience of the Eucharist in particular, is what holds us together. Beyond that, there is plenty of room for difference. The emphasis is not on sharing dogma so much as it is sharing the cup.

I believe this is the great hope for the unity of the Church: that though we may hold almost nothing else in common we, like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, know that somehow Christ is revealed to us around the table, and have burning hearts afterward to prove it. The experience of God in and through this meal gives us the resources to transcend the temporal boundaries that might otherwise divide us.

Welcoming non-believers to church

An Episcopal priest writing in the HuffPo catches on that there are people in the pews who are not believers. He is struck by

the astonishing notion that non-believers can actually enjoy and appreciate being part of a congregation. That they can take pleasure in participating in a family of faith, even without the faith.

I guess he's not read the discussion here at FoJ, where I have nattered on at length on being a "secular Christian" and a church-going atheist.   I was even quoted by Andrew Sullivan.  There are a lot of us who identify as culturally Christian but of course not all of us find a place where we are welcomed.

He goes on,

I believe there is something about experiencing the ancient liturgy that can take us to another part of our being, deep into our spiritual selves -- whether one can recite the Nicene Creed in good conscience or not. Participating in the taking, breaking, blessing, and giving of the bread and wine of the Eucharist can move us into an invigorating place in the spiritual stream of human history from the early church on.

Yesssss.... the rhythm of the liturgy is an important part of it, so deeply ingrained by my Catholic childhood that it is almost atavistic. Although for myself, I don't recite the Creed, and I do not partake of Communion.  Since I am not a believer, that (to me) would be disrespectful of those who are, those for whom there is true meaning (even substance!) in the host.  Although I'm technically "legal" having been baptised and confirmed in the Roman Catholic church.  (I've argued before that my example makes a good case for open table--why should I, a non-believer, be welcomed to partake of something that means nothing to me, when a newcomer for whom it feels life-giving may be denied?)

There's also this:

Worship services provide a place not only to experience sublime peace, but to be challenged to serve. Getting involved in an active community of faith, even without faith, can help us build mutually beneficial relationships, and can also offer opportunities to meet the needs around us --to get out of ourselves and our own concerns, see the hurting world around us, and do something constructive and meaningful about it together.

YES! A big part of the attraction to me is the community. It helps enormously that the community is educated, thoughtful, and active.  Since moving to the Episcopal Church, my wife BP and I have realized that nearly all our friends are fellow Episcopalians.

But the concept of church-going atheists is clearly new to the writer.

This is a phenomenon I'm not sure many church leaders and members are even aware is happening, or can happen. Perhaps we should find a way to open our doors wider to welcome more of these folks who may be "religious but not spiritual" -- the "Friendly Non-theists" -- without seeking to convince or coerce or convert them into belief. That is a matter between them and God, after all, whether the God they don't believe in exists or not.

Well, actually, you already are. We're here.   Because, as the saying goes, you don't have to check your brain at the red door.  We get this:

The Episcopal Church is among those denominations considered to be more open to doubt, questioning, and unsettledness regarding aspects of faith than some other traditions. That sort of faith seems stronger and more authentic to me than an unquestioning, doubt-free faith. It requires work and thought and struggle and prayer. Work that I and many others find pays off in deep meaning and purpose in life. 

So there is room in the church for doubters. Is there room in the church for non-believers?

Depends on the church.  Certainly I'm "out" as an atheist, and in our very educated community, it's not a problem.  I am technically a member, even though I don't identify as Christian:  I was baptised.  I give time and treasure to the church.  I serve in various capacities. I attend services regularly.   Indeed, I'm married to a verger, comment on church politics, maintain an extensive collection of classical polyphony  recordings, and almost certainly qualify as a "church geek".

The Episcopal church welcomes me.  How radical is that?

Update:
Some of my previous musings on the subject:
Living with Church
Secular Christians
Secular Christians:  who is welcome? 

Hot Air

I've had little to say for the last few days, because it all seems same-old same old.  I've been feeling burdened and burned out by work and by politics.

Marriage equality has had a booming month so far, with 32 states now having equal marriage rights.  Appeals are flying but the Supreme Court seems content to stay out of it unless and until there is a conflict between circuits.  Fundamentalists are throwing hissy fits and demanding the right to discriminate against LGBT people on the grounds of religious freedom. To which the answer is, if an adherent of a white-supremicist church (and there are such) demanding the "right" to discriminate against a black person in the civil realm, would we allow it?  How about a refusal to serve a Muslim woman in a head scarf?  But I've gone on about this at length elsewhere and I haven't the energy to do it again.

The Republicans (or the right-wing fanatics who have taken over the Republican party) scarcely even pretend any more to support democracy, but admit that they want to prevent Democratic constituencies from voting.  They  continue providing money and power to the Koch brothers, the fossil fuel industry, the military-industrial complex, and the big banks.  And the climate is continuing its dangerous change. It's hard to conclude anything than that we are screwed.

The Roman Catholic Synod on the family backtracked on making overtures to respect LGBT people, let alone welcome them. The conservatives are smirking at their slap-back of Pope Francis.  And yet, the transparency in the final document and the votes on each paragraph are such that it appears there is a more closely divided church, between conservatives by-the-book happy to lay crosses on other people's shoulders, and progressives of more pastoral instincts.  Polls show a surging majority of young American Catholics support gay rights and marriage equality.  At least arch-conservative Raymond Cardinal Burke, known for his love of garments liturgical, has suffered another demotion.

In the Episcopal Church, there's been the agonizing slow-motion crash at General Theological Seminary in New York.  I don't know much about seminaries, but I know a lot about secular academe, where the faculty have been demoted to a minor managerial role as the institutions become increasingly corporatized.   At GTS, it  bears all the hallmarks of heavy-handed institutional leadership, a hot-house atmosphere with a weakened faculty making dramatic ultimatums, and a board digging in its heels.  One would somehow have hoped that a seminary would do better,  both the faculty and the board.

And the Northern White Rhino species is down to 6 individuals, guaranteeing they will go extinct.

Stupid humans.

Social Media Sunday: coming out as Episcopalian

Yesterday was Social MEdia Sunday, in which Episcopal communities across the country were encouraged to engage Social Media using the hashtags #SMSunday and #Episcopal.

For a time, both those tags were leading trends on twitter.  Quite an accomplishment!

People posted selfies and notes from their churches.  At St Paul's Cathedral, San Diego, the Dean first invited us to try some Real Life social networking, by having a 1-min conversation with the person next to us in the pew, and then, after an excellent sermon (she generally knocks 'em out of the park), gave us a few minutes to text or facebook or tweet our takeaway message, with the added hashtags #stpaulcathedral.

Whose voice are you really hearing?

What am I called to sacrifice for my relationship with God? 

Where is the cup of cold water for the abandoned children?

We all held up our cell phones while she held up her tablet to take a snapshot.

Gimmicky?  Sure, in one way.  But in another way, it was very powerful.  All over the country, people Came Out as Epsicopalians, and shared something about the communities they care about.  And the photos were fun, full of smiles and laughter.

I tweeted on both my twitter accounts, and I'm sure that some of my followers were Very Surprised that I was in church.  It will be interesting to see if I get any responses.

You can see a neat sampling here of tweets and photos.  It goes on and on!

Now, over on FB, I did see one snarky comment on someone's thread, complaining that there was nothing new in the photos.  Same old church, and it doesn't work, was the commenter's complaint.  But of course, she missed the point.  For many people, church DOES work. There are growing, vibrant communities with a lot to offer. There is an audience outside for what goes on inside.

And on Social Media Sunday, the doors were thrown open to the outside world to say, Hey!   This is who we are.  

Well done, church!

Task force releases study guide

The Episcopal Church Task Force on the Study of Marriage has released Dearly Beloved, resources for conversation and discussion around marriage.  This is not limited to same sex marriage, but a broad theological reflection about marriage and the church.
News release here (with other links)

Broad discussion will assist those deputies and bishops – representatives of us all – at General Convention 2015, when they receive our report and consider possible responses to our church’s call to deepen this conversation. 

The resource may be used in a variety of settings, and it consists of three different formats, which may be used independently of each other: a 90-minute event (which can be divided into three 35-minute sessions); a variety of 45-minute forums; and a lengthy article for a study group. All three formats cover theology, history, scripture, current trends, and more, with guidelines for presentation and questions for group discussion.

The Tool-Kit “Dearly Beloved” here

The PowerPoint for the “Carry-On Conversations” resource here

On loving the Episcopal Church

Here's a great blog by a former Roman Catholic, now an Episcopal priest, on why he is Episcopalian.  One short excerpt:

I had been a fairly aggressive atheist after years of wrestling with losses from my childhood and I needed a place to be angry, to question, and to hear the constant, loving voice of God calling me home. All my discomforts and hopes in the Episcopal Church now are rooted in my fervent hope that we can hold onto its essential character so it can continue to be a place for so many others to call home. 

I came to the Episcopal Church not because I wanted something easy or something light but because I found something heavy – something dense with promise and potential. I love the Episcopal Church because it offers a place to be a disciple. It is a place to be grounded yet given the freedom to hope for more. It is a place to be whole and a place to gather the broken. It is a place to be fed and a place to feed. It is a place to be faithful and to wrestle with doubt. It is a place for those who long for a home and those who yearn to search and seek. It is a place that is home and a place that I hope to welcome many more to in the coming years and decades.

BP sang out, "yes exactly!"  when she read this.

A Christian CLoset?

Following up on yesterday's post cautiously expecting liberal Christian views to become more prominent. From Slate, a closet Christian comes out.  ANd you know what?  If more liberal Chrsitians came out that would be a great way to counter the monolith of rightwing Evangelicals.

Why am I so paranoid? I’m not cheating on my husband, committing crimes or doing drugs. But those are battles my cosmopolitan, progressive friends would understand. Many of them had to come out — as gay, as alcoholics, as artists in places where art was not valued. To them, my situation is far more sinister: I am the bane of their youth, the boogeyman of their politics, the very thing they left their small towns to escape. I am a Christian..... 

Not long ago, I told a priest at my church that my friends equated religion with horrible things. I expected her to tell me I had some obligation to stop hiding my faith, but she said, pulling a scarf around her neck to hide her priest’s collar, “Those preachers on the subways make me cringe.” She said she prefers Saint Francis: “Preach the gospel at all times. If necessary, use words.” 

I could reassure my atheist friends that the Episcopal Church is a force for equality and social justice. It ordained its first gay bishop, Gene Robinson, in 2003. It takes the Bible as a mandate to fight hunger and disease and to rebuild after disasters. I believe that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and other politically involved religious groups who take the gospel as an excuse to spread hate and support specific candidates and propositions should have their tax-free status taken away. 

Maybe, though, apolitical Christianity is on the rise. The Obamas are now in office — a good Christian family in the truest sense of the term — and the right wing is more marginalized than it was a year ago. My friend, the young (and kind of ridiculously hot) priest the Rev. Astrid Storm, whom I used to edit at Nerve.com, says she’s sensing more acceptance: 

“When I said I was a priest, it was always a conversation stopper,” she says. “Recently someone asked what I did, and when I told him he said, ‘How interesting. There are a lot of exciting things happening right now in the Episcopal Church, aren’t there?’ The diversity of opinion people are reading about in the news — about gay marriage, female priests, poverty issues — are showing how Christianity isn’t monolithic.”
...
[I]ncreasingly, I wonder: When I’m getting a ride from some friends and they start talking about how stupid religious people are and quoting lines from “Religulous,” do I have an obligation to point out how reductive and bigoted they’re being, the way I would if they were talking about a particular race? Increasingly I wonder if I should pipe up from the back seat and say, “Excuse me, but these fools you’re talking about? I’m one of them.”

Five years at FoJ, and another personal milestone...

Some of you have known me, internet-wise, for close to 10 years.  We first started meeting on the Via Media site and at Father Jake's, discussing Bp Gene Robinson, the problems in Dio San Joaquin, and the conservative sabre-rattling.

We moved over here to FoJ in July 2008, where mine has been the main voice, all of us noting the irony of me being the tame atheist of the liberal Episco-blogosphere, busy proselytizing my wife on your behalf.  And here I've been ever since, opining on The Episcopal Church's business, discussing politics, and equality.

Meanwhile, the proselytizing worked!  My wife BP started swimming the Thames in 2009, finally pulled herself ashore in 2010, and  followed a new-found calling into a ministry of service at St Paul's Cathedral, San Diego: Acolyte.  Thurifer.  Verger.

And on Sunday, she was installed by the Dean as Head Verger of the Cathedral.

I am so very proud of her!  And proud to know you people, who have supported us both along the way.

PB gives a sermon and tempest ensues

Presiding Bishop Jefferts Schori gave a sermon, which presented a rather different view point of a text, and conservatives are in an uproar.  Oh, dear.  From the NY Times:

Her text was Acts 16:16-34, which includes the story of a slave woman and fortuneteller whom Paul encounters in Philippi, Macedonia. 

As Luke, who Christians believe is the narrator, tells the story, the woman “had a spirit of divination and brought her owners a great deal of money by fortunetelling. While she followed Paul and us, she would cry out, ‘These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation.’ ” After many days, “Paul, very much annoyed, turned and said to the spirit, ‘I order you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.’ And it came out that very hour.” 

This story has historically been read as a tale of exorcism, in which Paul delivers the woman from some sort of indwelling spirit — or, alternatively, strikes a blow for monotheism against local beliefs in plural gods. But as Bishop Jefferts Schori interpreted the passage, Paul was guilty of failing to value diversity, to see the slave girl’s beautiful “difference.” 

“Paul is annoyed at the slave girl,” Bishop Jefferts Schori preached. “She’s telling the same truth Paul and others claim for themselves. But Paul is annoyed, perhaps for being put in his place, and he responds by depriving her of her gift of spiritual awareness. Paul can’t abide something he won’t see as beautiful or holy, so he tries to destroy it.” 

And,  conservatives are up in arms that she dare read this text differently.  The PB seems unfazed

But Bishop Jefferts Schori pointed out, in an interview Friday, that elsewhere in the Bible, Paul appears to condone slavery. Her sermon was thus part of a necessary, continuing tradition of interpretation. 

“If the church had never reinterpreted Scripture,” the bishop said, “we would still have slavery — legal slavery.” Scripture must be read “in our own time and our own context,” because prior generations had “a limited view,” she said. 

“They had to have a limited view, because none of us is God.”

What do you think?  Can a text take a re-interpretation, to give us meaning that perhaps even the author didn't consider?  this is not just about Biblical interpretation, of course, but is an on-going question in literary criticism.  If texts are static, unwelcome to interpretation, we'd never be able to set Shakespeare in anything other than period dress with white actors.

Bishop Marc Andrus on TEC support for marriage equality

Writing in the Washington Post

We overturned nearly two millennia of set tradition when we began ordaining women 34 years ago. We repudiated the traditional tolerance of slavery and racial prejudice in the mid-20th century. We traded our cultural privilege and hegemony as a largely Anglo denomination for the wealthy and have deliberately become more and more consciously a church for all. In all these things we have prayed and thought and been in earnest conversation in and out of the church, and believed that in the end we have discerned better the mind of Christ than we had in the past. 

It can definitely be unsettling to find that some structures and beliefs are not fixed and unchanging. Add to that the fact that the Episcopal Church has no doctrine of infallibility, of anybody, and one can understand those who prefer more predictability. For me, I hope to stay open to divine surprise.

Mixed Marriages

A story from NPR discusses a couple of mixed-faith, he an atheist, she a believer (lutheran).

Our readers will recognize that your blogger is in the same situation:  I'm a non-believer, my wife an Episcopalian.   We've talked about that a lot. I'm an ex Catholic who happily is part of an Episcopal Community.

On the comments to the NPR story, many people said that this mixed-identity would be a "deal-breaker" for a relationship for them.

I don't get that.  But then, I've matured from my anti-religious phase to my post-religious phase.  I've come to recognize myself as a cultural Christian who goes to Mass or even better, evensong to enjoy the aesthetics of cultural faith. Regardless of the God-thing, I get the community, and share the values.

I think that BP and I, as a couple, are  much more fulfilled now that we have found a place that welcomes us both where we are. And they do welcome us, and cheerfully include both of us in their life.  I suspect that some conservatives would be uncomfortable with that.  On the other hand, when BP was Roman Catholic, I was completely excluded because I could not find a modus vivendi with those people, and I was obviously not welcome At All.

Further, the essence of making a relationship work is mutual respect.  If I did not respect that my wife has an experience (faith) that i do not, or if she (or her church)  tried to convert me, OR ELSE,  this would be a problem.  But it isn't a problem...because we have mutual respect, and because the Episcopal Church finds a place for our complexity. They want not just BP, but me.  Pretty amazing feeling.

Thank you for that.

Indeed, I think it would be far more problematic if one of us were a tea-party Republican while the other a liberal Democrat.  Now THAT wouldn't work at all.  ;-)

National Cathedral will celebrate same sex marriages

Way to go!

From the HuffPo:

The Washington National Cathedral, where the nation gathers to mourn tragedies and celebrate new presidents, will soon begin hosting same-sex marriages. 

Cathedral officials tell The Associated Press the church will be among the first Episcopal congregations to implement a new rite of marriage for gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender members. The church will announce its new policy Wednesday. 

As the nation's most prominent church, the decision carries huge symbolism. The 106-year-old cathedral has long been a spiritual center for the nation, hosting presidential inaugural services and funerals for Ronald Reagan and Gerald Ford. The Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his last sermon there in 1968. The cathedral draws hundreds of thousands of visitors each year..... 

The Very Rev. Gary Hall, the cathedral's dean, said performing same-sex marriages is an opportunity to break down barriers and build a more inclusive community "that reflects the diversity of God's world." 

"I read the Bible as seriously as fundamentalists do," Hall told the AP. "And my reading of the Bible leads me to want to do this because I think it's being faithful to the kind of community that Jesus would have us be."
....
Gay weddings will be allowed immediately. But It will likely be six months to a year before the first marriages are performed due to the cathedral's busy schedule and its pre-marital counseling requirement. Generally, only couples affiliated with the cathedral will be eligible. Church leaders had not received any requests for weddings ahead of Wednesday's announcement. ....

Hall, the cathedral dean, said the church has a long history of taking stands on public issues. But he said he sees marriage as a human issue, not a political issue. 

"For us to be able to say we embrace same-sex marriage as a tool for faithful people to live their lives as Christian people," he said, "for us to be able to say that at a moment when so many other barriers toward full equality and full inclusion for gay and lesbian people are falling, I think it is an important symbolic moment."

As the Yahoo News article says,

The same-sex weddings that will be conducted at the Cathedral will fulfill the same role as Christian marriages. Eligibility to marry in the National Cathedral follows the protocol of the Christian faith. 

At least one of the members in the couple must have been baptized and the couple must be active, contributing members of the congregation unless otherwise specified by the dean.

Same rules.  Same standards.  Same expectations.  JUST the way it should be.

Writing in the Washington Post, Columnist Michelle Boorstein notes,

In some ways, the announcement that is expected Wednesday morning is unsurprising for a denomination and a diocese that long ago took up the cause of marriage equality. But the cathedral’s stature and the image of same-sex couples exchanging vows in the soaring Gothic structure visited by a half-million tourists each year is symbolically powerful.

ya think?

Video sunday: Top Ten Reasons to be Episcopalian

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Secular Christians

There's a new book called "Faitheist" that argues for non-believers and people of faith to work together.  The Professional Atheists are up in arms about it because they feel it shields or defends religion, which they view as an enemy.  This is why I don't like the term "atheist" to describe myself.   Because I'm not interested in attacking religion, and I'm not just advocating getting along, like the author of the book.  No,  I'm actually part of it.  

We've talked before about "gratheists" like me (here and here, for starters, and on a more personal level, here.)  

Here's a new entry to the discussion, from an atheist's blog on Patheos, that actively advocates for a secular Christian identity that would mirror that of the secular Jewish community (Judaism is particularly welcoming of its nonbelievers).

Consider what this might be like. A secular Christian—I could be a candidate, for example—might go to church for the beautiful or traditional or inspiring music. The church building might be a draw, whether it were awe-inspiring or quaint. Sermons about finding the right path or avoiding the shallow temptations in life or even Bible stories might be edifying. Services could mark the important events in life such as births, marriages, and deaths. Whether the secular Christian went weekly or only a few times a year, the community of good people, eager to help others, would be welcoming. It might give focus to good works, providing opportunities for volunteering and direction for charitable giving. 

But—and here’s the interesting bit—secular Christians would reject the supernatural origin of Christianity, would be open about their atheism, and would be accepted within the church community. The Christian church has millions of members who are secular Christians except for the last bit. They’ve lost their faith in the supernatural claims, they’ve admitted this to themselves, but they can’t come out to their church community. The concept of a secular Christian would allow these people to keep their community, charitable, and even family connections. 

The Christian church isn’t pleased with these ex-Christians simply leaving the church, and this broadening of the church community, as is done in many Jewish communities, could provide a soft landing for many mainstream churches hurting for members. Conservatives will insist that a no-compromise position be taken, but the church is determined to evolve, and this direction seems to be a win-win. 

I've described this as being "culturally Christian" but "secular Christian" works just as well.

So, it's an interesting question.  What defines a relationship with the Church?  Is it shared faith, or shared community?

Originally, I attended church with my wife as an expression of support during her long swim from Rome to Canterbury.  But now, I go not just for her, but for me too.   I'm a non-believing member of an Episcopal Parish.  Indeed, I'm technically "legal" as a member:  As a child, I was baptised and confirmed Roman Catholic.  I had a good religious education (Catholic school through 8th grade).  Now, as an adult, I  not only attend services but donate time and treasure to the Episcopal Church.

Probably the main difference between me and other people who might fit this description is that I'm not in the closet about my lack of belief  (although I admit I'm hesitant about telling people I don't know well, in case they take it the wrong way or think I'm being disrespectful, which I am at pains to avoid). I don't take Communion, and while I enjoy the service, generally I don't say the words or sing the hymns.

And many of our community know, and accept me for who I am.  I'm not trying to convert them, and they are not trying to convert me.  It's mutual respect.  And, I've learned I'm not the only one in the community who has a.... shall we say, non-traditional relationship with faith.

So, is there an explicit place for the culturally Christian that allows the Church to reclaim them (me) as part of the family?

Update:  A followup to this essay is here.