A Wasteland of Anglican Rhetoric

Bishop Rucahana of the Anglican Diocese of Shyira of Rwanda has now joined the fray with a terrible accusation of satanism riddled with racism:

Bishop Rucahana said the Anglican Church in Rwanda will not be pushed into adopting the satanic behaviour of the "whites because they are whites".

It is, perhaps, among the most pained and angry rhetoric yet to date in the grand and now terrible affair of an Anglican Schism, even blasting beyond Archbishop Akinola's remarks of a few weeks ago, where we were accused of spiritual imperialism.

Fr. Jake has sounded a response that asks questions with which I have deep and growing solidarity. However, with no offense intended towards Fr. Jake, this is precisely an example of how so many on each side of the Anglican rift are now talking past each other, rather than to the real concerns on the table, let alone the God-endowed humanity of each other.

Archbishops and bishops in the self-proclaimed Global South, along with a number of their American allies, are now resorting to rhetorical knife-work to cut whatever strands of affection were left holding the Communion together. Rather than speaking directly to the question of human sexuality -- which is really only a manifesting issue, after all -- it is easier to demonize their perceived enemies and thereby justify a break. So, like all good politicians, they reach for the easiest rhetoric at hand: that which plays well to their constituents, by appealing to the painful history of European and North American colonialism and then scapegoating lesbian, gay, transgendered, and bisexual Christians with the terrible burden.

I risk dismissing the pain of this tragic episode through such analysis. That is not my intention, either. Behind Bishop Rucahana's remarks are the unspeakable communal pains of genocide: pains which are deeply entangled with the longstanding evils of colonialism that were (and to some degree still are), yes indeed, inflicted by the West and too often sanctioned by the historic Church.

Our quibble with the bishop remains not over this point, but one of proportion. Why, I wonder, must our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters, and -- to a lesser extent, the Episcopal Church as a whole -- be saddled with the entire burden of an institutional evil that was, for all intents and purposes, inflicted and maintained largely by Northern European men, mostly straight, and now mostly deceased?

But that is too complex a question, for it does not yield to a sound byte, and it does not accomplish the clear purpose that is now at work amongst at least some of the Anglican Global South leadership: that is, put simply, to justify schism, and in the most direct and harsh terms possible.

The only way back to the table will be addressing issues directly, not in this roundabout and distorted fashion, and certainly not -- to paraphrase the Apostle Paul, and indeed most presciently, Ephraim Radner in his recent break with the Network -- with words that rend the Body of Christ rather than build it up. Continuing any pretended conversation in this mode fails to address the real principalities and powers against which we as Christians are called to stand together.

It strikes me, too, that any talk now of "strained bonds of affection" will miss the mark. The bonds are now being deliberately and consciously cut in some places -- out of fear, perhaps, and certainly out of pain and anger. I pray that this is clear, most of all, to the Archbishop of Canterbury. Anything less than crystal clarity on this point will only make the conflict worse, it seems to me.

This Sunday, in the midst of a series of apocalyptic teachings, Jesus takes the gloves off in telling us in no uncertain terms that the Gospel may well at times cost us our most deeply cherished family ties. I reckon we are at one of those junctures as a Communion.

So how can we best respond? The examples are already out there to behold: in our Presiding Bishop, amongst a number of the Primates, amongst many in our House of Bishops and many of their sisters and brothers elsewhere in the Communion, and amongst ordained and lay members of the church engaging with our Rwandan and other Anglican sisters and brothers around the world directly, in person, on the ground:

• To such rhetoric, silence can often be the most charitable response.
• When necessary, we need to allow people to find the door. We should never be in the business of shutting people in or taking hostages for any cause, even the most noble we can imagine, and that includes preserving unity.
• Simple charity for those in deepest need: those scapegoated by the present rhetoric as well as the uncountable hungry and suffering around the world who are forgotten in the midst of a caustic in-house fight over red herrings.

Poisonous rhetoric screams for nothing short of a Divine response -- the true judgment and justice of compassion, the strength of the cross, the forbearance of Joseph, Job, and Jesus -- and a continuing patient calling forth of the struggling and pained humanity that is masked and hidden by vehemence and the truly demonic.

We are challenged to call forth and witness the face of God even in our enemies -- for healing, hope, and reconciliation.

No one said this business of sustaining Communion would be easy. But for all talk of narrow paths, this one, to me, seems the brightest in what is increasingly becoming a foreboding wasteland of schismatic Anglican rhetoric.