On Christology: The Reformation Of The Episcopal Church

I am in all things apostate; it seems I am unable to conform myself to this new Christian world, or to renew my mind in the holy waters of the most popular baptisms. The Christ I find in church no longer speaks my name, nor do I recognize his voice. I am indeed a sheep of a different fold.

Whose voice is this that I hear in the opening remarks of an epistle calling the faithful to live a holy Lent? Is it really the voice of the Christian Savior, the Shepherd of the Church?

Here's A Second Call To A Holy Lent

Dear sisters and brothers in Christ,

I write this during the season of Epiphany, that season of the church year in which we remember the extraordinary ways that God showed up in the life of Jesus, convincing those around him that God dwelt in him in such powerful ways that he not only was like God, but that he was God. But by the time you read this, we will be in the season of Lent...

Christianity is fraught with mysteries, beautiful and hallowed mysteries that tremble with paradox. Perhaps the grandest of these mysteries is the Incarnation, the awesome dogma that Jesus the Christ is fully God and fully man, totally and simultaneously; possessing two natures in One dynamic symmetry, eternal and preexistent, and forever inseparable. The very dogma of the Incarnation is in fact so mysterious -- eluding most of our cleverest categories and schemata -- that it can hardly avoid being the very epicenter of heresy. When Jesus asks his disciples, "Who do men say that I am?" it is a question of great ontological import; it is not a mere query about perceptions but about ontological identity, the very substance of Christ's nature. "Thou art Christ, the Son of the living God," St. Peter declares. But his simple declaration is not so simple, or so clear, for heresies spring from this mystery like swine off a cliff.

Should it at all disturb me that the prefatory remarks about Christ in the aforementioned Lenten epistle are penned by the Episcopal Bishop of New Hampshire, the Right Reverend V. Gene Robinson? Should I wonder at the implausibility of it all, that a bishop of the Christian Church could even suggest that God merely "convinced" people that Jesus was so much like God that he was God? Should I stumble over language suggesting the Incarnation is merely God "showing up" in the life of Jesus?

What to do with this casual reductionism, this grotesque informality: For God so loved the world that he "showed" up in a man and convinced everyone that he was God!

Perhaps the first thing I should do is announce that I am now the de facto Bishop of New Hampshire -- by default -- for the current bishop cannot be taken seriously any longer and should be defrocked. Alas, I cannot make such an announcement. I am not fit for the bishop's chair, nor am I any longer fit for the Kingdom this current bishop represents. I cast myself outside, where I shall wait in vain for the shepherd to leave the ninety-nine to look for me, to call my name.

He is too busy with "Dialogue", the spirit ruling the new church, to make such a call.

________________
The House Of Bishops Speaks

As some of you may know, the crisis in the Anglican Communion that reached flashpoint in the 2003 consecration of Christendom's first openly gay bishop, V. Gene Robinson, has now reached the breaking point. Last week, The Episcopal Church leadership, the House of Bishops, responded to recommendations offered by a council of Anglican primates by politely rejecting those recommendations. It is by all accounts a bold and honest position to take: The Episcopal Church of the United States -- of which I am a member -- has decided, if it must, to exist unto itself, though it does so with lofty, even nostalgic language regarding unity, fellowship and the church's great feelings of catholic affection for the body of Christ.

"We affirm once again the deep longing of our hearts for The Episcopal Church to continue as a part of the Anglican Communion…What is important to us is that The Episcopal Church is a constituent member of a family of Churches…That membership gives us the great privilege and unique opportunity of sharing in the family's work of alleviating human suffering in all parts of the world… we are aware as never before that our Anglican Communion partners are vital to our very integrity as Christians and our wholeness. The witness of their faith, their generosity, their bravery, and their devotion teach us essential elements of gospel-based living that contribute to our conversion.

"We would therefore meet any decision to exclude us from gatherings of all Anglican Churches with great sorrow, but our commitment to our membership in the Anglican Communion as a way to participate in the alleviation of suffering and restoration of God's creation would remain constant."

It is impossible to deny the sincerity and earnestness of the American episcopacy as they face being ousted from the Anglican Communion. There is indeed a softness of heart that almost sounds contrite. But when we come to the substance of the American apology we discover something utterly stunning.

Up until the very hour of V. Gene Robinson's consecration in November 2003, we heard of sweeping change in the Church: The Holy Spirit was "doing a great and new thing", opening once-blind hearts and eyes to the "authenticity of gay and lesbian personhood", shattering traditions that would define things otherwise, clarifying long-misunderstood passages of scripture used to bolster homophobia and exclusion. "God is still speaking," we were told by advocates of God's great reforms. In November 2003, the Episcopal Church of the United States was rife with change, with reform, pulsating with the Holy Spirit's renewing leadership. The Episcopal Church was inspired: This is who we are! proclaimed the Church as it identified itself as the liberator of all those trapped by sexual discrimination rooted in tradition and archaic hermeneutics.

But now, in the very hour in which my once-beloved church finds itself on the threshold of excommunication (of a sort), the very Church that encouraged the rejection of tradition now, in its own defense, invokes tradition to maintain its authority. In response to myriad calls that the Episcopal Church approve "primatial oversight," a sort of open-borders policy where conservative bishops from outside America could guide parishes within The Episcopal Church that reject the liberalizing of the American church, the American bishops have found a new defense: Tradition does not permit the American church to share leadership with outsiders. Suddenly and inexplicably the Church has found tradition authoritative and binding. Moreover, in November 2003, when the Church was re-interpreting sundry Biblical passages using a new hermeneutic, calling certain anti-homosexual passages "dated" or "anachronistic," the Church now finds certain passages in its preamble and its prayer book conveniently static and absolute. There is no new hermeneutic here.

Surely we all should find this sort of elasticity rather stunning. And surely we can call such convenient elasticity what it is: duplicity.

But no matter how sincere The Episcopal Church may sound in its grave regrets that people have taken offense at its liberating mission, its recalcitrance in the face of international pressure leaves many observant parishioners shaking their incredulous heads. The Episcopal Church, in a fit of ironic projection, is suggesting that the Anglican Communion is guilty of a form of colonialism: the Communion is behaving a bit like a surly king intent on keeping his colonies in line with the royal will (thanks Jordan Hylden). The irony, of course, is that the American Church is the one acting imperialistically, intent on pushing its expansive compassions on the rest of the world. Or am I wrong about this?

If I am wrong, then how should I explain Bishop Robinson's own summary of the American episcopacy's rejection of the Primate's recommendations? Do these sentences of his declare that The Episcopal Church sees itself as a misunderstood victim, or as something else?

"While we cannot know what the reaction will be to these statements throughout the Communion, we must be who we are – the Church struggling to live out faithfully the ministry God has given us in this place and time. Like many great reformers before us, 'Here we must stand. We can do no other.'” [emphasis added]

Ah-hah! Now we see! The Episcopal Church of America is the Great Reformer of Anglicanism! It does not at all intend to comply with what it sees as error. Bishop Robinson represents the "true Church" led by the Holy Spirit toward a "broader" Kingdom. Hence, The Episcopal Church is not the threatened, but the threat -- a threat to oppressions, many and abominable, and the legion errors that justify those oppressions. The Episcopal Church is the reforming force in the Anglican Communion; it is being faithful to the "ministry God has given" the Church "in this place and time."

Reforming is EXACTLY the word.

________________
The Most Damning Statement

In the House of Bishops' statement submitted to the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Primates' Standing Committee, we find a clue about the current state of church affairs. It is what I have repeatedly called the flight into subjectivity; I have warned elsewhere that such subjectivity is relentlessly manipulative, and that it breeds spiritual doubt -- Are you truly spirit-led? -- and even spiritual competitiveness -- Do you hear God as well as I? Subjectivity is a powerful and alluring force, and it ruins many a relationship within God's kingdom.

Read this stunner by the American House of Bishops as it defends its recent actions:

"It is incumbent upon us as disciples to do our best to follow Jesus in the increasing experience of the leading of the Holy Spirit." [emphasis added]

Note the language -- "the increasing experience of the leading of the Holy Spirit." Is there anything more disheartening, even more deadening, than this? And is there anything more licentious?

If ever there was a time we needed God to free us from these reformers, it is now.

Peace.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

American Moral Imperialism, And Its Western Allies

Only a fool would try to impose democracy on a backward nation. Only a dunce would attempt to impose Western democratic values on a country steeped in tribal strife. Only idiots would think a place like Iraq could ever be Westernized, even civilized.

But apparently it is sagacious to expect that an Iraqi criminal justice system executes its convicts humanely; it is couth and cool to demand that Iraq accepts that even the death penalty is barbarism.

Oh, the tedium of it all. America is grotesque for attempting to Westernize Iraq; while America's many critics laud themselves for attempting to Westernize Iraq. Once again, I am dulled by paradox. But something an Army major told me only days ago gives me some bearing in the whirling, conflicting rhetoric tossing so many of us to and fro. I will speak of that in a moment.

It is clear that the videotape of Saddam Hussein's hanging makes many of us squirm. The cold and impersonal gallows (the very ones Hussein used to execute prisoners); the chatty guards; the informality and undignified quality of it all; all of these combined to make Western observers faint. "Death with dignity" was not merely tossed aside, it appeared to many observers that Iraqis lack such a moral category.

Ever quick with voice and pen, Western human rights groups swiftly charged that Hussein's hanging was a "war crime." Italy, no doubt influenced by the enclave of the Holy See within its borders, called such violence barbaric, a charge that might be entirely true. But what is striking is that such rhetoric comes from people dripping with Western, even Christian values. These are critics quick to proclaim Iraq a lost cause spiralling into civil, tribal war; a place where Western values cannot be imposed; a place where such values might not ever even simply evolve. And yet Iraq should be more squeamish, less violent; in short, Iraqis should behave like Parisians, Londoners, and San Franciscans.

But lost on too many is the glaring fact that Iraq elected a government, forged a constitution, constructed a judiciary, and held a lengthy trial against Mr. Hussein. True barbarism would not have tolerated this for one second; barbarians would have lopped Mr. Hussein's head -- and perhaps other extremities -- from his body within hours of his capture. Instead, Iraq showed a restraint not often seen in that country for decades; and for this they are rebuked by the morally superior consciences of Europe, Washington, Manhattan.

While enjoying a bonfire at a party two nights before Christmas, I had a conversation with an Army major who had fought in Baghdad during its liberation in 2003. When US military personnel were working security in that city, the major revealed, Iraqis would be caught attempting to steal gas.

"We would take their gas cans and punch holes all through them," the major told me. "We'd tell them that they'd all get gas and there was no need to steal, and then we'd send them on their way. The Iraqis saw us as weak for doing this; but Americans would see this as a sign of strength. But it wasn't strong to the Iraqis at all. They would respect us if we had beaten them for stealing; but then, if we did that, we'd have their respect but not the respect of the people here in the United States. So we were constantly battling between whether we wanted the Iraqis to respect us, or the Americans."

Telling stuff, indeed. What is moral to American and Western sensibilities may be seen as immoral in Iraq; our strength is to them nothing but moral weakness. Moral authority that is couched in grace is not one whit authoritative to many in the Muslim world, or so suggests my friend the major.

But what astonishes me most in all of this is how aggressively the critics of "American imperialism" attempt to export American morality. It is its own form of imperialism. Curiously, either they do not see it as such, or they do not care to see it as such.

I guess it all matters on doing whatever is opposite of George W. Bush and his minions, dunces that they are.

Peace.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.